《A Young Girl's Outer Heaven [Youjo Senki/Metal Gear]》 01 A Young Girl¡¯s Outer Heaven 01
It was over. We had lost. Despite all my warnings, right from the beginning. Despite paper after paper, outlining the scenario for a world war and how this entire thing would go. Despite my blood, sweat, and tears. Despite all the people I lost, had to kill, or who died in service to my country. Despite trying time and again to put a stop to the madness before it could spiral further out of control and being hampered, hamstrung, and outright blocked and ordered not to. We had lost. And now, we were going to pay the price. As a nation. As a people. All of us, collectively. Already, we were receiving quiet, scattered reports of Russy troops pouring in across the border. Invading Germanian villages. Taking everything not nailed down. Killing the men. Raping the women and children. It made our blood boil to hear the plight of our countrymen, only to have our hands tied by orders. Orders from the same incompetent fools who had led us down this path in the first place! I wanted to blame that bastard Being-X for all of this, but no. No. I knew the history of the world I had come from, and I had learned the history of this world in my time at the war college. Human nature hadn¡¯t changed, between one world and the next. The two things I truly knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I could blame Being-X for were my own presence in this world and Schugel developing the Elenium Type 95 Computation Orb. No, the failures of the war I laid firmly at the feet of command. Not generals von Zettour and von Rudersdorf, or the General Staff Office. No, at the end of the day, the Emperor made the final call. People like Zettour and Rudersdorf (while he was still alive) could only advise. They were, in essence, upper managers¡ªwith the Emperor being the CEO. With the Empire beaten, our orders were to stand down. Those in battle with enemy forces were to surrender peacefully. Those who could were ordered to return home. We were not to resist the invading and occupying Russy, Commonwealth, and American forces. Any radio calls from villages under occupation were to be ignored. We were not to make contact with any other Germanian forces and were to maintain radio silence amongst ourselves¡ªonly communications to central were allowed. All aircraft and aerial mages were grounded, effective immediately. So, where did that leave us? The Salamander Kampfgruppe and the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion? Grounded. Ordered to return home by train. All officers of Salamander Kampfgruppe were ordered to report to command, where they would await trial. Tanya, especially. I knew how that would go. Sitting in Tanya¡¯s office, little more than a cramped back room in a home that had been loaned to our unit, I sat contemplating the dispatch containing our orders. In the end, the blood, death, sacrifice, the sheer waste of it all in terms of manpower and resources¡ªit was all for nothing. There was never going to be a peaceful retirement to the rear for Tanya. And it looked like my people would be sacrificed on the altar of politics, to appease the enemy. My people deserved better. Tanya deserved better. I deserved better. Better, than to be thrown away as political pawns, having the blame for as much as they could manage shifted onto us. I wouldn¡¯t stand for it. The only question was, how far did I want to go? As if there were any other choice. When the government you¡¯ve supported fails to uphold its end of the social contract with its own people, rule of law collapses. I refuse to be held to a contract that the other side will not themselves honor! Throwing myself on the mercy of our enemies would be the height of folly¡ªfor they have none and they will be out for blood. As much as I¡¯ve shielded myself from scrutiny within the Empire by citing law, or a lack thereof, this is exactly the sort of situation where if allowed, the enemy will make up new laws just for you. If this were an employer going under and about to be charged criminally, the best thing I could do would be to quit, pull out my assets, and immediately travel to a non-extradition country. I¡¯ll make the offer to the others and see what they think. Holding the dispatch over the trash bin, I lit it on fire and dropped it into the metal bin. I watched it burn down for a moment before keying up on the short-range magical frequency. ¡°Everyone not on watch, report to¡­ the bierhaus in ten minutes. That is all.¡± Standing up, I began gathering my papers. Everything I had collected while stationed here that wasn¡¯t essential, I put into a pile to be torched later. Then, I moved to the quarters I shared with Visha and began gathering my things. I hadn¡¯t exactly unpacked everything, so it was the matter of a few minutes to get everything stowed away. Pulling on my long coat and hat, I made my way outside. The village was quiet, somber. In spite of our orders, my men were still keeping a tight perimeter and sticking to their watch shifts. I smiled, feeling a bit proud that even news of the surrender hadn¡¯t dulled the edge on my band of bloodthirsty lunatics. My boots squished through the mud disgustingly as I made my way up the street through the light drizzle to the small bierhaus. Opening the door, I found the atmosphere just as somber inside as out, as those who weren¡¯t on duty had gathered. Moving through the crowd, which parted as much as it could around me, I made my way to the bar. Climbing onto a stool, I made a silent apology to the owner before stepping up onto the bar itself. Pulling my coat tighter around myself, I looked over my men, meeting the eyes of everyone there. ¡°You¡¯ve all heard the news by now, so I¡¯m not going to waste your time beating around the bush. The Empire has surrendered, but it¡¯s worse than that. If some of you haven¡¯t heard our orders, I¡¯ll spell it out for you: we are to return home. The unit is to disperse. Officers are to report to command and await trial. A trial that will, no doubt, be conducted by our enemies. They intend to sacrifice us to save their own hides. Put simply, we¡¯re¡­ fucked.¡± There were some winces and more than a few angry faces as I let that one sink in for a moment, before continuing. ¡°Spread the word. Every enlisted man below the rank of corporal is to gather their things and board the train that will be here to pick us up within the week. Keep up the watch rotation. If the enemy approaches, follow our orders and surrender. If not, proceed back to Berun. From there, unless met by another officer, consider yourselves dismissed. You are free to disperse and return home, barring orders to the contrary. But until the train gets here, I expect you all to maintain the discipline you¡¯ve shown in our time together. You are dismissed. Officers, please stay.¡± The room cleared out, leaving behind only Lt. Grantz, Lt. Serebryakov, vice commander Weiss, and the rest of Tanya¡¯s officers. Hopping down off the bar, I took a seat on a nearby bar stool. Looking to Visha, I asked, ¡°Would you?¡± before cutting my eyes over to the tap. Visha giggled, and the quiet laughter spread through the room¡ªthe mood lifting for just a moment. Viktoriya made her way around the bar and began pouring drinks. She slid a mug of dark, German beer to me and I waited until everyone had their drinks and Visha had moved back around the bar with her own. Raising my glass, I looked over my men before taking a careful sip. The others followed suit. I hadn¡¯t much enjoyed beer, during my days of participating in the forced drinking culture as a Japanese salaryman but ever since becoming an officer, it had galled me to be denied the right to partake even if I didn¡¯t particularly have any desire to do so. It was the principle of the thing! But now, here at the end, I could enjoy a drink with these people. We who had shed the same blood in the same mud. It¡­ wasn¡¯t half bad. Cradling my mug in my lap, I began. ¡°Gentlemen, Viktoriya. The moment we set foot in Berun, we all, every one of us, will be ¡®taken into custody.¡¯ Arrested, by our own people. We will be tried as war criminals. They will accuse us of every crime under the sun and likely invent entirely new ones just to retroactively find us guilty of them. We were given orders and we followed them. And we did so to spectacular effect. But ¡®just following orders¡¯ isn¡¯t going to be good enough, when we stand accused by the enemy of beating them soundly, time and time again. So I ask you, is that just? Is it fair? Is it right? That we, who have sacrificed so much for this nation, should be made to suffer in place of those who made the decisions? Make no mistake, if we return, we will be walking to our deaths. Is that how we want this to end?¡± ¡°Ma¡¯am,¡± Weiss stood at attention and I gave him a dismissive wave. ¡°At ease. Speak your mind, captain.¡± ¡°Are you suggesting we desert?¡± he asked plainly. Oh, that¡¯s not good. Tanya couldn¡¯t be seen as a deserter, even now. No, the officers would lose faith. So I needed to phrase this retreat as something else. We¡¯re not retreating, we¡¯re advancing in another direction. I scoffed and proceeded to¡­ misdirect, just a bit. ¡°Some will call it that. I am suggesting we fall back. Establish a new forward operating base in a less hostile environment. Resupply and build up our forces. And then, when the time is right¡­¡± I closed my fist and pounded it into the palm of my other hand. ¡°We strike.¡± ¡°But the Empire has surrendered, ma¡¯am,¡± Grantz pointed out. ¡°Yes. However, knowing General von Zettour as I do, it¡¯s likely a false surrender. A means to buy time. For the Empire to consolidate its forces, build back up, and recover. To lull the enemy into a false sense of security. They¡¯re likely going to saddle the Empire with all of their debts incurred by the war effort, along with damages, reparations, punitive measures, and whatever else they can think of to financially cripple us. Our enemies will likely also demand that we cease production of and turn over all computation orbs and other equipment, seeking to disarm us. The entire reason that the other nations dogpiled on was that they were afraid. We grew too strong and neither the Commonwealth, Frogs, or the commies want to see a superpower arise in the middle of Europe and threaten trade. ¡°So yes, we are surrendering. For now. While we still have a nation left, that hasn¡¯t been bombed into a burnt out husk and our people killed. Then, in a few years, when we¡¯ve built our strength back up the Empire will throw off the shackles they¡¯ve forged for us¡ªand we will be stronger for it! This time, we¡¯ll be ready! But I leave that to General von Zettour. Our part in this is to make sure that the core of the Empire¡¯s most successful unit doesn¡¯t die in front of a firing squad. That the knowledge, tactics, and more importantly the talent isn¡¯t lost in some, some kangaroo court. For that, we must quit the field, for the moment. Lay low. Allow the enemy to search and find nothing. And then, when he¡¯s given up looking for us, we slip in behind him and we go to work¡ªbusiness as usual.¡± Looking around, Visha bit her lip. ¡°What about our families?¡± Tanya sighed, before shaking her head. ¡°If we turn ourselves in and allow this farce to proceed? They¡¯ll be shunned and could face lawsuits, violence, or other dangers.¡± I hadn¡¯t actually considered it, but some of the officers had family¡ªparents, wives, children. If I asked them to abandon their families and follow me, would they? Maybe. But it would be a major point of contention. One I could avoid. There was risk, but we could try to do something about it now, while there was still time. While they weren¡¯t on the lookout for us. Actually, now that I thought about it, this was not just the perfect time, it was the only time we could pull off the mad plan that was just beginning to form. A single wing of the 203rd, flying low and fast under radar into the heart of the Empire while keeping our magical signatures as suppressed as we could manage. The enemy hadn¡¯t actually made it that far into our borders, yet. They weren¡¯t patrolling the skies yet. They didn¡¯t have magical detection arrays set up inside the Empire yet, so we would only show up on friendly scopes, and then only at near point-blank range. We would be gone before they could do much more than register our presence. But, but! We had maps. We had the home field advantage. We had flown missions over the Empire since the first days of our training. We knew where every outpost was, every place to avoid, every place where we could fly safely, and every little bump in the terrain where signals would just be completely lost for miles and miles. It can be done, I realized. And with that realization, I had incentive for the men. But what about the other half? Getting out? Well, admittedly, that part was going to be tricky. Especially with civilians along. I would need to review our maps¡­ Actually, I seem to recall some coded communiques on unit movements, in my office. ¡°I have never left a man behind. I don¡¯t intend to start now. If we do this, we will first need to make a few detours to collect our families. A surprise insertion into what was once friendly territory. Low and fast, in the dead of night. Radio silence, mana suppression, full blackout conditions.¡± Weiss hummed quietly. ¡°We know the terrain better than anyone. Even if the foreigner invaders are running night patrols, we can lose them¡­¡± There was some murmuring from the others as they considered it, many of them nodding along. Someone spoke up and asked, ¡°What about supplies? Money?¡± ¡°Before we leave, we shall politely requisition them from our own troops, who do not need them anymore. We¡¯ll take the war chest with us, obviously. Once we¡¯re in country and set up, we¡¯ll begin running operations against the enemy. Small scale raids. Strategically transfer equipment to alternate locations. Supplies, materials, money¡ªwhatever we need, the enemy shall kindly donate! We should thank them for their generosity!¡± That got a round of laughter and I waited a moment for them to settle down. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re also wondering about transport. For that, we¡¯ll look to our good friends in the navy. I¡¯m sure we can find at least one submarine captain and crew looking to join us in ensuring the continued existence of the Empire.¡± Looking around at my officers, I said, ¡°This may very well be a suicide mission. If we aren¡¯t killed at any point during our escape from the Empire or during the journey to our destination, we will be hunted like dogs. We will be disavowed by our nation. Until the day the Empire can throw off its shackles, we will be villains. Criminals. Monsters.¡± Turning the pint glass up, I drained it in one go before setting it on the bar and pulling on my cap. Hopping off my stool, I made my way towards the door. ¡°You don¡¯t have to follow me. But know that if you do, you follow me into hell.¡± Reaching up, I fingered the Silver Wings Assault Badge with Oak Leaves adorning my coat¡ªthe one service medal I left on either my coat or dress uniform. Plucking it off the coat, I turned it over and bent the pin that would hold it in place. I stopped at the door, pressed the medal into the wood at the center of the door, then hammered it into place with my mana-enhanced fist. ¡°Those who follow me, leave your honor behind here. They wish to make monsters of us, then so be it. We will become their bogeymen. Every shadow on the wall, every branch scraping against a window, every bump in the night. We will haunt them until their dying breaths.¡± Opening the door, I paused. ¡°I need to place a call. Those of you who wish to follow, assemble in my office. I¡¯ll be there shortly.¡± With that, I left them to make their decisions in peace. Once more, the mud squished under my boots as I walked down the street¡ªthough this time, things felt¡­ different. Tanya¡¯s body felt lighter. Every step filled with purpose. A smile pulled at Tanya¡¯s lips. Making my way into the building holding our communications gear, I nodded to the man on duty before making my way over to the communications officer. ¡°I need a priority line to Lieutenant Colonel Ugar. I wish to discuss¡­ our train. I am afraid that with all this rain and mud, it may take longer than central is expecting to load our equipment and men.¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am. I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡± Nodding, I took a seat nearby and waited, studying a map of the Empire on the wall¡ªspecifically, the rail map. I would have to check my notes, but I seemed to recall some of our fleet being in the sea to the south, having come in for resupply¡ªspecifically, some of our long range submarines¡­ ¡°Ma¡¯am, it¡¯s Colonel Ugar.¡± Nodding, I took the offered handset. It cracked as I held it up to my ear and I frowned. ¡°Lt. Colonel Ugar, this is Lt. Colonel Degurechaff. I¡¯m sure you¡¯re busy, given everything going on, so I apologize in advance for bothering you.¡± ¡°Nonsense, Lt. Colonel Degurechaff. How is your husband?¡± I frowned. Ugar knew I wasn¡¯t married¡ªI was far too young for that, and that was entirely the wrong gender if I were interested in pursuing a relationship. Not that he would know the second, but the first was apparent. Leading with blatant nonsense, however¡­ ¡°I worry for him,¡± I ¡®confessed.¡¯ ¡°You know how difficult it is to get word back home from near the front. Tell me, how are your wife and son?¡± Ugar didn¡¯t have a son, though he did have a daughter. ¡°Oh, they¡¯re doing well. My boy already looks to be taking after his old man.¡± Message received and acknowledged. Something is wrong and we¡¯re both on the same wavelength. Now, to find out what. To test the waters¡­ ¡°Is your wife still being nosy about that little tryst in the war college?¡± An event that never happened, and never could have. Obviously false, but plausible for anyone who didn¡¯t know me. ¡°Don¡¯t say that so loudly, she¡¯s probably listening right now,¡± he laughed. Someone is listening in. He didn¡¯t deny the likelihood of it happening outright, so not someone who knows me by name. Tanya scoffed. ¡°Did you let her in the office with you?¡± ¡°No, no, but I wouldn¡¯t put anything past her.¡± So, we suspect the lines are tapped by one of our many enemies, but they aren¡¯t in the office holding a gun to his head. ¡°Ah, if you¡¯ll allow me to bend your ear with a complaint, are we ever going to see anything other than ersatz coffee again?¡± ¡°Highly unlikely. You know how it is. And given everything going on¡­¡± ¡°Yes, yes,¡± I agreed. ¡°I¡¯ve half a mind to get on a boat and go strategically acquire some straight from the source!¡± ¡°Hahaha! Good, good! While you¡¯re there, pick me up some as well!¡± he laughed. ¡°So,¡± I changed my tone, ¡®getting down to business.¡¯ ¡°With all the rain recently, the ground here is nothing but mud half a meter deep in places. I¡¯m worried that the train you¡¯re sending to pick us up may be delayed. Or that there could be delays in loading. Bridges washed out, trees over the lines. With the war over, I want my men returned to their homes as soon as possible, not sitting here in the mud.¡± ¡°Ah, yes,¡± Ugar sounded saddened. ¡°I¡¯m afraid the train has been a bit delayed due to exactly those concerns. We may even have to reroute it.¡± I clicked my tongue. ¡°Tch. Of course. Lt. Colonel, my men are hungry and running low on supplies. In fact, we may actually need more equipment to dig half of our equipment out of the mud to load it on the train. What can you spare for me?¡± ¡°Mm, well, we may be able to send some rations and other miscellaneous supplies to you.¡± ¡°I suppose it will do,¡± I conceded. ¡°As long as you load a box of Type 97. The storehouse leaked and damaged our stock. Do you have any idea how inconvenient it is, trying to use wet toilet paper?¡± I asked, with a tone of disgust. Ugar laughed. ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can scrounge up. That¡¯s a valuable commodity, you know! Production was halted, sadly. We¡¯ve been having to make do with what we have to hand here.¡± ¡°How soon can you have it?¡± He hummed, before answering, ¡°Well, the train is just sitting there waiting to go, but we¡¯ve been waiting to hear word back from you on whether your men are ready to return or not, and whether the lines are safe to do so. I¡¯ll go put a rush on getting those supplies loaded. I can have the standard rations loaded this afternoon. As for the Type 97, well, that could take longer.¡± ¡°I see, I see,¡± Tanya nodded along. ¡°Very well. Do what you can, then send it tonight. I want my men home as soon as possible. I don¡¯t believe the line will be safe past¡­¡± I looked at the map and found where the line would cross a river, and where it could be detoured to. In that way, we worked out where the train would detour, discussed the stops and potential slowdowns for hazards along the way, and worked out when and how they would arrive here to pick up my men. Finally, everything was agreed upon. ¡°Well, I believe that about wraps things up. It will be¡­ good to see you back in Berun.¡± So, he¡¯s aware of what¡¯s likely going to happen as well. ¡°Yes, I can¡¯t wait to get back. Still¡­ I would have liked to have some fresh coffee.¡± Ugar snorted. ¡°Oh, well, if you¡¯re so desperate, you may as well just send some men south and pick it up directly. I¡¯ve heard part of the fleet has returned, escorting some civilian ships carrying supplies.¡± ¡°I might just,¡± I agreed. ¡°Well. It¡¯s been good talking to you again, Lt. Colonel¡ª¡± ¡°Please. I believe that just this once, we can dispense with rank as equals.¡± ¡°I suppose,¡± I agreed. ¡°Goodbye, Tanya.¡± ¡°Goodbye, Max.¡± I handed the communications officer the receiver and walked away, once more back out into the dreary, cold rain and mud. Back to my office. After scraping the mud off my boots, I went back to the office and opened the door, to find my officers poring over maps and dispatches. All of them. Shaking my head, I closed the door behind myself. ¡°Good news,¡± I said, moving around to sit in my chair, after hanging my coat and hat up. Thankfully, someone had put a couple of logs on the fire and the room was nice and toasty. ¡°I just spoke with Lt. Colonel Ugar. Unfortunately, our train was held up in Berun because they weren¡¯t sure whether the line was passable or not, what with all the rain and the possibility for mud slides and the like. But, upon my request, they will be loading the train with provisions and supplies and it will be on its way tonight.¡± Taking my pointer, I outlined the proposed route the train would take. ¡°Here, here, and here¡­ That is where the train will slow down to make sure there are no obstacles in its way. Traveling at night just isn¡¯t as safe as it once was, apparently. So,¡± looking up at the others, I asked, ¡°where do we need to go to collect your families?¡± Vice Commander Weiss leaned over the map and began pointing out markers placed on it. From there, we made our plan of attack. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Turn in, get some sleep. We leave at 2100. Dismissed.¡±
If Tanya were a cynical person, she would be worried that the mission was going too smoothly. It¡¯s going too smoothly. We had flown at treetop level, at just shy of the top speed my soldiers could fly, with nothing but starlight amplification formulas and knowledge of the terrain to guide us. Over the course of the night, my group had slowly lost men as they broke off to take care of their families. First was Grantz, who lived the closest to where we had been temporarily stationed, in the south, near the eastern front. We stuck around just long enough to speak with his young wife, mother, and father and help them gather up some valuables and load up their family car. Grantz had changed out of his flight uniform and into civilian clothes, but kept his computation orb and sidearm on him, stowing away the flight uniform in his bag and keeping his rifle in the car. He had a map and knew where we could be meeting up, along with the signal to let us know he was ready for pickup and that he hadn¡¯t been compromised. After that, they broke off one by one, until finally, it was just Weiss, Visha, and myself. Checking my watch, I clicked my tongue upon seeing the time. ¡°Captain!¡± To my immediate right in our tight delta formation, Weiss moved up a bit. ¡°Ma¡¯am!¡± ¡°We¡¯re cutting it close. I¡¯m sorry, we¡¯ll have to leave you to it from here!¡± The man sent me a smile. ¡°Understood. I¡¯ll rendezvous at either pickup point Alpha or Beta. If I can¡¯t, I¡¯ll make for the port by road!¡± ¡°Just don¡¯t lead them straight to us!¡± I warned. ¡°Are you sure? I thought you would want a warm send-off from our friends!¡± ¡°Hah! Get going, captain!¡± ¡°Godspeed, ma¡¯am!¡± I pulled a face at the choice of wording, but Weiss was already gone. Visha moved from my left over to my right, taking up the wingman position. ¡°Time on target is less than eight minutes!¡± ¡°Take the lead, lieutenant! I¡¯ll keep an eye on the sky. We¡¯ve entered the most dangerous phase of the mission!¡± ¡°Roger that!¡± Visha agreed, before we traded positions and Tanya swept the skies around us for enemy, or even ¡®friendly,¡¯ fliers. We fell silent after that as we flew into the heart of Berun. Weiss¡¯s wife and child lived in the city, yes, but on the outskirts. Visha, on the other hand¡­ She had accommodations in the city and had worried for her parents, living out in a little rural town in the east. She had been right to worry. Tanya had read the reports. The place had been burned to the ground by the Russ. The things they did to those people was¡­ monstrous. Truly, communists are worse than animals. Thankfully for them, Visha had urged her parents to move to the city and use her apartment for the time being, at least until the war ended. Finally, just over seven minutes later, Visha made a dive down to street level. I followed and we moved another few blocks up the street before she landed. From there, she pulled out her keys and made her way into an apartment building. Tanya followed her up, close on her heels and one hand resting on the handle of her submachine gun. We stopped three floors up and Visha hurried down the hall, before knocking on a door and opening it with her keys. We slipped inside and I closed the door behind us, taking up a position to keep watch on the door. From the small living room, a man and a woman in their early 40s poked their heads out. Recognizing their blonde daughter, they greeted her and exchanged greetings and hugs. ¡°Viktoriya! We did not expect you back for another few days, now that the war is over¡ª¡± ¡°Mama, I¡¯m sorry. We¡¯re not here for that. You and papa, go pack your bags. Quickly now!¡± Visha told them. Viktoriya¡¯s father made a face. ¡°Is this the Federation all over again?¡± I didn¡¯t see her face as she nodded, but I could imagine it. ¡°Yes.¡± Her father paled and ran into their bedroom. Her mother, however, tried to argue. ¡°What? Viktoriya dear, whatever do you mean? You are a decorated soldier¡ªa hero! What¡¯s going on?¡± ¡°Mama, the communists are coming. The war isn¡¯t over, Germany surrendered! The Americans, the Republic, the Commonwealth, the Federation¡ªthey are all coming, and they¡­ they are not going to be kind to us, mama. They are out for blood. I,¡± she glanced back at me, ¡°we were too much of a thorn in their side for them to ever forgive. We were too good at what we did. They¡¯re going to have us killed. You, you¡¯re guilty by association¡ªjust as it was when the communists came when we left the Federation. We have to go, tonight! Now! Or we won¡¯t be able to leave at all!¡± ¡°Bags are packed,¡± Visha¡¯s father announced as he came back in, dressed in warm clothes. ¡°Go get dressed, wife. Quickly now!¡± ¡°Oh dear,¡± the woman murmured, before hurrying into the bedroom. ¡°Food,¡± Visha instructed, and her father nodded. Together, the two of them moved into the kitchen and I heard a racket as they began moving things around. ¡°Is the car filled up?¡± ¡°It has a half tank.¡± Visha sighed. ¡°Papa, how many times have I told you, keep it filled!¡± Tanya tuned them out for the moment, closing her eyes and casting sensory enhancing and mana detection formulas. Then, I checked my local comms. I frowned at the radio chatter. Apparently, we had been detected but¡­ someone was dragging their heels about scrambling a response. Still, I wasn¡¯t about to test our luck. ¡°Lieutenant, hurry it along. We¡¯ve been detected.¡± Visha¡¯s mother came into the room wearing a coat over a change of clothes and carrying another bag. At the same time, Visha and her father came in carrying cloth bags of food¡ªcanned foods and a few perishables, namely a smoked ham, some bread, cheese, and wine. Pulling my submachinegun up to the ready, I led the way back down, sweeping every hall, every door, and every stairwell on the way down. ¡°Where¡¯s your car?¡± ¡°Parked outside, down the block,¡± Visha¡¯s father answered, pointing to our east. ¡°Alright. Lieutenant, rear guard. I¡¯ll take point. Hurry now!¡± We rushed down the street, keeping an eye on the skies and on every side street and building. Finally, Visha¡¯s father stopped at a car and opened up the trunk. I opened the front passenger seat and pulled off my rifle, putting it inside as Visha passed me her own. Tanya stepped up onto the running board, keeping her submachinegun hidden as she kept watch. They loaded the car quickly and we piled in, and then we were off. The trip through the city was a blur as we made our way out, then south towards the first pickup point. We got there just in time to see the familiar form of a military train roll past. ¡°Damn,¡± I cursed quietly. ¡°Was that our train?¡± Visha¡¯s father asked. ¡°Yes,¡± I confirmed. Considering the car for a moment, Tanya nodded. ¡°Get out.¡± ¡°What?¡± Tanya opened the door and quickly slung my rifle. Visha obeyed without hesitation, moving around and popping the trunk. ¡°I¡¯m faster, I¡¯ll fly ahead,¡± I told her, grabbing as many of the bags in my arms as I could. Looking to her father, I said, ¡°Wait here. Don¡¯t move from this spot.¡± And then, Tanya took off. Since we had already been detected, there was no longer much concern for stealth and keeping our magical signatures suppressed. I opened up Tanya¡¯s flight formula and zipped after the train, quickly catching up. Opening the caboose, Tanya dumped everything inside and rushed out, flipping around and tearing ass the other way. Tanya met Visha going the opposite direction, carrying her screaming mother in her arms. Tanya barely slowed down as she approached Visha¡¯s father. Apparently, she had told him what to expect, as he stood there with his arms out and a grim expression on his face. Tanya looped around behind the man and slammed into him in a tackle. ¡°Oof!¡± he grunted, the wind knocked from his lungs as Tanya lifted him up and poured on the speed. And then, we were on the train and the adrenaline crash hit. Tanya sagged for a moment before I applied a combat stimulant formula. Perking right back up, a grin split Tanya¡¯s face. ¡°Gather your things and move up the train. I¡¯m going to go speak with the driver!¡± Tanya left the caboose. Skipping walking, Tanya flew her way straight up to the engine. The driver was a military man and greeted an unknown border exactly the way he should¡ªwith a pistol to the face. He lowered his weapon when he spotted Tanya¡¯s rank insignia. ¡°Lt. Colonel Degurechaff?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± I confirmed. ¡°Sorry about that,¡± the driver grinned sheepishly. ¡°Lt. Colonel Ugar sends his regards, ma¡¯am.¡± ¡°If you see him after this, give him my thanks,¡± Tanya nodded. Reaching into one of the pockets of Tanya¡¯s flight suit, I produced a map and held it under the lantern lighting the cab. ¡°This is where we¡¯ll need to be prepared to slow down to pick up passengers. You¡¯re looking for lights along the tracks. Two flashes to indicate it¡¯s clear. Four flashes to speed up and not stop. I¡¯ll keep watch here with you, just in case we have any uninvited guests.¡± ¡°Understood, ma¡¯am.¡± And with that, the plan continued apace.
If Tanya were a cynical person, she would be worried that this was all a setup. This is all a setup. That damned Being-X has something planned. I can feel it in my gut. The plan had gone off entirely too smoothly. Beyond smooth, in fact. Not only had we collected everyone we intended to without being pursued, but Ugar had come through big for us. There were crates and crates of food, clothes, weapons, ammunition, and not one but two crates of Type 97 computation orbs. Even more surprising, when the train had detoured to take the track that would lead them to the dock where we would hopefully catch our ride out of the country, Tanya found a very welcome and admittedly heartwarming surprise. The entire Salamander Kampfgruppe were ready and waiting for us, loaded up with all the gear they could carry and not an ounce more¡ªall the heavy equipment having been left behind. I had told those idiots to wait for pickup, but apparently this group was just too bloodthirsty, loyal, and stubborn to do anything but follow their commander wherever she went. I couldn¡¯t say I hated it. Upon rejoining with the Salamander Kampfgruppe, one of the soldiers had presented me with a photo¡ªone of two I held in my left hand, while I sipped at my coffee with my right. The first, and older photo, was one of the 203rd, back when it was first formed. Taken immediately after the graduation of my very first class of trainees. Some of the faces there remained to this day. Others had died in the line of duty and new members had joined and earned their places. The second photo was apparently taken the morning after it was discovered that the officers and I had gone north. I recognized the interior of the bierhaus, of course. It was a photo of the door and the wall surrounding it¡­ covered in medals and accolades, and the names and ranks of every member of my unit carved below them. Above the door, someone had carved the words: Relinquere Honorem. Abandon honor, huh? ¡°Is the coffee to your liking?¡± Looking up from where I leaned against the rail of the U-boat, I found the captain of the ship had come up and leaned against the rail beside Tanya. Chuckling, I took a sip and tucked the photos away into my flight suit. ¡°It¡¯s the first time I¡¯ve had anything other than ersatz coffee in¡­ more than a year now,¡± I admitted. ¡°Part of my private stash,¡± the bearded man admitted with a smile as he took a sip. ¡°Oh? I see. I¡¯ll have to return the favor. Perhaps a little barter is in order. Are you a drinking man, captain?¡± ¡°I like the occasional drink,¡± he admitted. ¡°Off duty and within moderation, of course.¡± ¡°Of course,¡± I agreed. ¡°I believe I have a nice bottle of rum we collected on the southern front, not too long ago.¡± ¡°That does sound nice. How¡¯s¡­ a bag sound?¡± ¡°Surely you jest!¡± I scoffed. ¡°This is only the finest alcohol, I¡¯ll have you know.¡± ¡°Ah, but coffee has become a rare commodity lately. It¡¯s almost impossible to get in the Empire. This is a nice Ildoan blend I picked up a while back. I¡¯m sure you can taste the warm, rich undertones for yourself¡­¡± ¡°Nnf,¡± Tanya grumbled, but sipped her coffee. He was right. It was a very smooth blend¡­ ¡°I¡¯ve been told this is a spicy and sweet rum.¡± ¡°Oh? That does sound nice¡­¡± In the spirit of capitalism, we dickered over the exchange rate of roasted coffee beans to alcohol for a bit before coming to a mutual agreement and shaking on it. With that settled, the captain turned towards the bow of the ship, and the Ildoan cargo ship we were tailing close behind. She was bound for America and we were going to hide in her shadow for much of the journey, before breaking off and turning south. Either directly behind the Lucia or under her, in the event we needed to dive. ¡°I apologize for the cramped accommodations.¡± ¡°No, no,¡± Tanya waved him off. ¡°We¡¯re grateful for what berths you can spare. My men and I thank you.¡± ¡°I wasn¡¯t expecting civilians¡­¡± ¡°Well, given how long we¡¯re likely to be gone¡­¡± The captain nodded. ¡°Yes, of course. Understandable. I have two of my own, back home¡ªgrown and with their own children, now. Just make sure they understand the value of silence on a submarine. While hiding under the Lucia¡¯s skirt may protect us from casual observation if the Lucia is stopped for inspection, that isn¡¯t going to help if they make noise.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll impress upon them the gravity of the situation.¡± The captain nodded. From behind them, someone called, ¡°Sir! Our man on the Lucia reported spotting a seaplane¡ªnot friendly!¡± ¡°Rig for dive!¡± The captain turned and gestured for Tanya to follow. ¡°Let us get inside, before we find ourselves swimming to our destination.¡± Tanya laughed quietly. ¡°Yes, I¡¯d rather not take a dip at this time of year.¡±
Around two thousand miles to travel from the south of Germany, through the Adriatic Sea, Ionian Sea, Mediterranean Sea, Alboran Sea, and pass through the Strait of Gibraltar¡ªnot that they were all named that, but close enough. Another roughly four thousand miles (thirty-five hundred nautical miles) to cross the Atlantic. Our U-37, rechristened as the Ingrid after the captain¡¯s wife, could run up to just over eighteen knots on the surface. The Lucia, on the other hand, crawled along at a measly eleven knots at her maximum speed, but her captain ran her closer to nine so as to not look like we were in a hurry. We planned to split off from the Lucia halfway along our journey, once we were well past the Commonwealth and American fleets¡¯ patrol zones and blockades around Europe. Just over twenty six hundred nautical miles off the coast to split up, at a speed of nine knots. Twelve days of crawling along, hiding in the Lucia¡¯s shadow, slipping under her skirt any time our spotters caught so much as a glint of an enemy aircraft, riding so close at night that if the Lucia had to slow down, turn, or stop for anything we were going to hit her if the man on watch on the Ingrid¡¯s deck wasn¡¯t on his game. It was absolutely nerve-wracking, but we managed to make it. And of course, that¡¯s when everything went down the toilet. It was a fine, cool morning when I went topside after having my morning coffee to run a quick patrol. Tanya had the 203rd on rotation, occasionally sending someone up just to make sure we didn¡¯t have any unwelcome surprises waiting just over the horizon. Today, Tanya found trouble. Unfortunately, trouble found Tanya at the same time. Spotting a shadow on the water behind the Ingrid, Tanya called up a sniping formula and had a look. There, Tanya found, to my growing horror, an entire carrier group. I made a quick count. One carrier, three heavy cruisers, and five destroyers. Movement caught Tanya¡¯s eye and she looked up, above the carrier, to find a group of aerial mages conducting maneuvers. I recognized those uniforms. The Unified States volunteer group¡­ And there, in the crowd of them, one of their number stopped dead in the air, before turning to look directly at Tanya. Her face was vaguely familiar¡ªin fact, I was pretty sure we had crossed paths before. Her eyes met Tanya¡¯s across the distance and I felt a sudden sensation of dread as a death¡¯s head grin spread across the blonde girl¡¯s face. Shit, shit, shit! I cursed as I dumped altitude, returning to the ship. Heading inside, I ran straight onto the bridge to the captain. Seeing my worried look, he sighed. ¡°How bad is it?¡± ¡°Carrier group. Nine ships total. Bearing two-ten, range fifteen knots. They already had an aerial mage group up for maneuvers and we were spotted. It won¡¯t take them long to arm up and sortie.¡± From the look on his face, he knew as well as I did that we were dead unless we did something. After a moment, I nodded. ¡°I need to make an announcement.¡± ¡°Over here,¡± he directed me to the communications office. ¡°Put it on shipwide.¡± ¡°Aye, captain. Shipwide on,¡± the seaman said, before handing over the mic. Taking the mic in hand, I made the call. ¡°203rd, suit up! Prepare for anti-ship sortie! Report topside in ten minutes!¡± ¡°Those other aerial mages are going to be here before then.¡± I nodded, handing the mic back and making my way to a ladder leading below. ¡°I know. I¡¯ll hold them off.¡± ¡°If it were anyone else¡­¡± the captain muttered, shaking his head. ¡°Sound battle stations.¡± ¡°All hands, battle stations!¡± The bridge chatter faded behind me as I made my way to my quarters. Collecting my SMG and rifle, I checked the magazines for both, grabbed some spares and slipped them into Tanya¡¯s flight jacket, and made sure my knife was on my side and my bayonet was ready. I paused, patting my pocket. There was one more piece of equipment, and as loathe as I was to use it¡­ desperate times called for desperate measures. I groaned and fished into my pocket, digging out the Type 95 computation orb and replacing the Type 97, before heading topside. I took a moment to go ahead and fix the bayonet on Tanya¡¯s rifle. Let¡¯s give them something to focus on. I had learned from our last encounter with ship combat. I had developed some formulas with much better penetration and had even tested them out on tanks. Admittedly, they were commie tanks, so not exactly sturdy¡­ but when you could punch through a line of five or six of them, if not more, at a time that surely had to count for something. Taking to the sky, I scanned the horizon and quickly found the enemy ships. They had all turned and begun visibly accelerating towards us. Throwing up my shield, I dove and hugged the water¡¯s surface, moving away from the sub and towards the enemy at an angle, hoping to approach them from their 9 o¡¯clock and so low they wouldn¡¯t see me until it was too late. One of the benefits of Tanya¡¯s body was still the very narrow profile her body made when facing an enemy head on and the greater speed and maneuverability that came with her smaller frame. Hooray for malnutrition! Knowing Tanya might only get one shot at this before she was forced to retreat, I lined up my shot and made it count. Sighting in the carrier, I charged my formula and aimed for just above the water line, before squeezing the trigger. A hole blasted deep into the carrier and it immediately began taking on water. Focusing on the Type 95, I spun up a signal jamming formula to keep them from calling for help. I didn¡¯t need the entire Unified States Atlantic Fleet coming down on our heads, after all. A moment later, the ships around the carrier began opening anti-air/anti-mage fire. Tanya had truly kicked the hornets¡¯ nest. But¡­ Tanya was low. Too low, too fast, and too close to hit, and Tanya was using one of the destroyers as a shield. Realizing just how close Tanya had gotten and that they were almost completely unprepared to deal with me at the moment without their aerial mages to run me off, a leer spread across Tanya¡¯s face. ¡°Well then, let¡¯s just¡­ take advantage, hm?¡± Increasing speed, I flew right by the destroyer I was using as a shield, took aim at the carrier, and blasted another hole in it¡ªaiming for what I hoped was the engine room, this time. There was a small secondary explosion and black smoke immediately began pouring out of the carrier. And then, I flipped over and killed my speed, pressing myself nearly right up against the side of the carrier. ¡°Can¡¯t shoot me here, can you?!¡± Tanya cackled, before taking aim and beginning to blast holes in the other ships. With a spell that could actually do damage instead of barely rattling their armor, this was much more fun than the last time we¡¯d fought against ships. Now that I think about it, wasn¡¯t it this group we fought, back then? Maybe. I couldn¡¯t say for sure. At the very least, that girl with her unreasonable grudge against me had been part of the group my 203rd had attacked at the time. Moving around the carrier and using it as a hostage, Tanya put more and more holes in the enemy destroyers. Above Tanya, I heard fighting break out and the sounds of aerial mages doing battle. That sounds like my backup! This really is going better than expected. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, Tanya caught an explosive formula to the chest that sent her bouncing across the water¡¯s surface before splashing down. The shield caught most of it, but Tanya¡¯s ribs were cracked and that sharp pain in my chest was¡­ worrying. Shaking off the water, I blasted back up trying to gain altitude, and not a moment too soon as a follow-up shot made the water plume behind me. Applying combat stimulants and painkillers, Tanya surveyed the battlefield and found the cause of my pain. A wheeze from Tanya¡¯s mouth, the taste of blood, and a funny feeling in Tanya¡¯s chest gave me pause. Reaching up, I wiped at Tanya¡¯s mouth. Tanya¡¯s fingers came back covered in bright red, frothy blood. Punctured lung. Shit! Tanya was forced into evasive maneuvers as the blonde enemy mage flew in screaming obscenities¡ªonce more focused entirely on Tanya and no one else, as had been the case every time we fought. Slinging Tanya¡¯s rifle, I brought up the SMG and took aim, returning fire as we danced. Tanya needed immediate medical treatment and the only thing keeping her going was my stubborn spite and the magical equivalent of methe. The problem with that was that medical treatment was waiting on the submarine. And while the carrier group was certainly slowed, crippled even, they still had enough undamaged ships to send one or two to pursue us¡ªon top of several companies of aerial mages. Tanya¡¯s vision was starting to gray around the edges and this doggedly determined bitch wouldn¡¯t give Tanya even a second to disengage! I¡¯ll call for backup and¡ª Jamming. Tanya herself was jamming the enemy, but by that measure that meant her own comms were jammed. If the enemy got word out, they could alert the rest of their fleet to their position and heading and have planes here looking for them within the hour. She could still jam them and call for backup, but she¡¯d be doing it on every frequency in range, meaning the enemy would know she was in a bit of a tight spot and may send backup themselves just to make sure she went down. Especially if they realized she was the enemy commander. Then, the world slowed down¡­ before coming to a stop. The enemy mage, bare feet away, turned and smiled at her. ¡°Hello again, heathen.¡± ¡°Being-X,¡± Tanya growled, only to cough up blood. ¡°Can you make it quick? I¡¯m in the middle of something here.¡± ¡°This is your last chance. You are going to die here, one way or another. However, if you repent and pray for salvation, you will be saved.¡± Tanya¡¯s eye twitched. This piece of shit had the gall to taunt me in my last moments once again! ¡°No. And you know what? I would rather die and have my soul annihilated than give you the satisfaction! Because at this point, all you¡¯ve managed to do is prove me right! Everything I said, right from the beginning.¡± Tanya coughed and I wiped at her mouth, before wiping the blood on her flight suit. ¡°You had your chance. You took me from the safety and comfort of modern day Japan. You took away everything I had. You made me a poor, orphaned little girl in a world at war and I clawed my way back up! You weren¡¯t getting what you wanted, so you cursed me with this abomination!¡± I clutched at the Type 95 at Tanya¡¯s breast. ¡°It certainly makes me babble incoherently when I use it, but I never meant a word of it!!! And you know that! Even cheating by taking my free will away from me, you couldn¡¯t make me genuinely give you what you wanted! And we both know that.¡± The enemy made, Being-X¡¯s puppet of the moment, frowned at that but said nothing. ¡°Even now, we both know that if you just destroy my soul as you promised, I still win. Because you couldn¡¯t make me kneel. No,¡± another cough, ¡°I think we both know how this is going to go. I¡¯ll die here. You¡¯ll throw another tantrum. And then you¡¯ll try again somewhere else, because you can¡¯t stand to lose. No, I have a feeling we¡¯re going to be a thorn in each others¡¯ side for a long, long time! You can¡¯t stand to lose and I won¡¯t let you win. So, go ahead! Send me to another world! Put me right at the bottom and watch as I claw my way right back up to the top, regardless of what hurdles you put in my way. And when I¡¯m standing on top of another pile of bodies, put there because you couldn¡¯t stand a ¡®heathen¡¯ like me, I¡¯ll raise a salute just for you.¡± I raised Tanya¡¯s hand and gave Being-X the finger, just to emphasize my point. ¡°Now. Fuck off back where you came from and let me get back to dying!¡± The world resumed and I dodged another shot, changing magazines and running another mag into the enemy mage¡¯s shield, trying to wear it down. We spun through the air and Tanya¡¯s body began to tremble. It was getting harder to hold the SMG in my hands, let alone keep it on target. Tanya¡¯s shield failed and she caught a bullet to the guts. It burned like a motherfucker, but I grit my teeth and applied more combat stimulants and painkillers. It¡¯s a no-win scenario for me. If Tanya pulls back, the ships pursue, everyone dies. If I stay, this bitch kills me, and there¡¯s still the problem of the ships pursuing the sub. If the 203rd could pull back, they could make a fighting retreat even without me. They could make it, assuming they didn¡¯t come across any more ships. ¡­It seems that the ships, not the enemy mages, are the problem. Okay. Those, I can do something about. If I¡¯m going to die anyway, I might as well go out with a bang. Keying up on comms, Tanya dodged another shot and returned fire, before descending to the deck and skimming the water, trying to use the ships as shields and put as much distance between me and Tanya¡¯s pursuer as possible. ¡°Members of the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion! Withdraw at once! You have sixty seconds, starting now!¡± I began counting by the precision ticking of the Type 95. Letting go of my shield, I relied entirely on Tanya¡¯s narrow profile and maneuverability to avoid getting shot down, even as I switched from maintaining Tanya¡¯s flight spell with the Type 95 to doing it manually. Next, I released the combat stimulants and painkillers after one final good dose. A groan escaped Tanya¡¯s lips and I clutched at her stomach, wincing at the blood soaking my hand and the stench of a gut shot. I began dumping mana into the Type 95, starting to cycle it between all four cores in a sequence that would disrupt their synchronization and cause it to overload¡ªjust as it almost had when I was first testing it. Immediately, it began to glow and heat up. Switching to English, I continued. ¡°To the enemy forces we are engaged with. This is Lt. Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff of the 203rd Imperial Aerial Mage Battalion! My people know me as the White Silver, but you know me better as¡­ The Devil of the Rhine, as I¡¯m sure your computation orbs¡¯ magical signature identification has told you. It¡¯s probably also told you that I¡¯m building up a cascade failure in my own orb and the mana readout is probably off the scale by now. I assure you, your equipment is not malfunctioning. That is exactly what I am doing!¡± Tanya took a took a moment to come up off the deck and buzz the tower of the aircraft carrier, waving cheekily at the people inside as I went, before dipping back down before she could catch another bullet. ¡°So! Right now, you have two choices. The first, you can choose to attempt to pursue my men and our ship. I assure you, they will fight you tooth and nail every step of the way¡ªand it will be a battle like none you¡¯ve ever fought before. The second, we can play a nice little game of tag! Whoever shoots me down gets to live! Because if you don¡¯t, well¡­ Hehehe~! When this thing goes, it¡¯s gonna be big!¡± I rolled onto my back, looking back at the girl following me. Her eyes went wide as she processed what I was saying. Making finger guns at her, I looped around the other side of the aircraft carrier and flew towards one of the destroyers. Making a loop around the destroyer and pulling Tanya¡¯s rifle from her back, Tanya¡¯s flight wobbled as I tried to juggle just one more formula¡­ and found I couldn¡¯t. Mentally running the flight formula and jammer was already taxing enough, on top of pouring more mana into the Type 95 while holding it in a delicate balance of burning its way into Tanya¡¯s chest and not exploding yet. Checking the countdown, I shrugged. Ten seconds was going to have to be good enough. I dropped the jamming and channeled a mana blade. Tanya poured on the speed back towards the carrier, passing the blonde on the way back by. Tanya swung for the fences¡­ and caught the little bitch¡¯s fucking head on Tanya¡¯s bayonet! The look of surprise on her face in the instant when the blade penetrated her shield, before it perforated her skull, was priceless. Tanya dropped the rifle and its sudden load into the ocean and aimed for the carrier. With no more need for the blade, I turned the jammer back on as Tanya was forced to dodge concentrated mage fire, formula bullets exploding the water below¡ªuntil it stopped as Tanya flew over the carrier¡¯s deck and hovered to a dead stop in front of the conning tower. ¡°So long~, farewell~, auf weidersehen, goodbye. I leave~ and heave~ a sigh and say goodbye~.¡± I stopped holding back the cascade. I had just a moment to register a bright flash, and then nothing. Ahahaha~ I wish. No. No, it was pain. All pain. Worse than anything I had ever felt in either of my two lives as every nerve in my body lit up like it was on fire, like grabbing a live wire. The Type 95 exploded in slow motion and my mana, my mana still inside the thing, touched that something deep inside it. That, loathe as I was to acknowledge it, divine spark. The captain of the ship, or at least I guessed he was the captain, turned and looked at Tanya through the windows of the conning tower and I realized that Being-X was dragging this out. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he admitted with a nod, stepping through the glass and walking on air as he stepped closer. Looking down, I found the flesh of Tanya¡¯s chest peeling away in slow motion as a ball of concentrated mana expanded outwards. All my mana, all stored over time, fixed in place by the Type 95. Strangely, while Tanya¡¯s flesh and blood disappeared, her nerves remained¡ªglowing the same golden color as the mana slowly burning me alive. ¡°I¡¯m not going to give you the release of final death. Not yet. Instead, how about we try things your way?¡± Just what kind of twisted logic was running through his head now?! I hadn¡¯t proposed any alternative¡ª ¡°You believe in self-determination. So, I¡¯ll let you determine your own fate¡­ and suffer the consequences of your decisions. If you aren¡¯t burned away by your own mana, where you go from here is entirely up to you. I won¡¯t interfere further. But if, at any time, you pray to me for help, for mercy, for the blissful embrace of death¡­ I win.¡± I blinked. Was he¡­ implying that this wasn¡¯t fatal? That I might be able to survive a cascade failure explosion? My mind whirled as I thought of possible solutions¡­ You know what? I¡¯d take it. A life without the invisible hand of Being-X tampering with things to throw my life into chaos? Ha! I could go back to working hard, earn a new place for myself, then sit back and take it easy. And pray? To him? He must be delusional! Time resumed, and for a split second, my thoughts disappeared into a white hot haze of pain. Pain and darkness that seemed to go on forever as I felt myself burning up¡­ But somehow, a thought surfaced, popping above the waves of agony. That if the Type 95 could fix mana in place, that all of this was just my own mana, and I had been guiding it all this time¡­ I already knew how to solve my problem. What would happen if I took some of the leftover mana and put it into a healing formula?
Visha winced, calling up a formula to shield her eyes from the bright, white flash centered on the aircraft carrier. Their mana sensors whited out as the explosion enveloped the carrier group. They felt the force of the blast in their bones even from this distance as the enemy ships were annihilated entirely. Blinking spots from her vision, Visha frowned as something in the haze of smoke and steam caught her eye¡ªfloating there right where the commander had been. Dropping her light dimming formula, she called up a sniping formula, her sight zooming in¡­ She wasn¡¯t seeing things. There, where the commander had been, was something like the outline of a person made of glowing, golden wires¡­ before it flashed briefly. Visha caught a glimpse of pale, white skin and blonde hair before losing sight of it. Visha moved, entirely on instinct as she rushed for the spot where she had last seen that blonde streamer of hair. ¡°Lt. Serebryakov?!¡± Weiss called in confusion. ¡°It¡¯s the commander! She¡¯s still alive!¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Impossible!¡± ¡°But that explosion¡ª!¡± ¡°203rd, fall in!¡± Weiss ordered, and the air group moved into formation to follow. Visha made it just in time as a pale form slipped under the waves. Grabbing the body, she hefted her commander out of the water and onto her shoulder just as Weiss and the rest made it. Weiss was there beside her an instant later, the big man taking off his flight jacket and wrapping it around their commander¡¯s nude, shivering form. ¡°Fall back to the Ingrid!¡± The group fell into formation around Visha and Tanya as they made their best speed for the U-boat. Shifting her load to be more comfortable, Visha¡¯s mind turned over what she had seen. It¡¯s¡­ a miracle from God. 02 A Young Girl¡¯s Outer Heaven 02
Commissioned by Sneakydevil.
My eyes opened and I stared up at the dark ceiling above. From the rocking of the bed and the smell of the air, and the sounds carrying around me, I could tell that I was back onboard the Ingrid, somehow. I mentally took stock of myself and found everything to be as it should be with Tanya¡¯s body. ¡­My body. I clearly remembered those last few, panicked moments of consciousness after the flash of the Type 95 exploding and incinerating my body, burning away my flesh, blood, and bones and leaving behind a mess of magic in the shape of my nerves, eyes, and brain. That moment when healing formulas failed¡­ but I wanted to live so badly, so desperately, that I grabbed my mana still floating in the air, lingering from the explosion, and pulled it in. Where I made a conscious choice to remake myself. And in the end, when I had the choice to be anything, I had reflexively remade myself not as the Salaryman I had been in Japan, but as Tanya. Sighing quietly, I lifted my arm out from under the sheets and blanket. Held out my hand. Flexed my fingers, before turning the hand over and studying my palm. I am Tanya, and Tanya is me. It was¡­ surprisingly easy to accept, in the end. Everything Tanya had done, every choice made, every battle lost, every victory won¡ªthey had all been my doing. Being-X had forced me into this body, in an attempt to humble me. But I had, time and time again, proven him wrong at every turn. That the human spirit is indomitable and a change in circumstances wouldn¡¯t be enough to make me beg him for help, for relief. He cursed me with this form originally, but it was my choice that saw me back in this body. Even if it was a choice made under duress, in the heat of the moment, in the span of a heartbeat and barely able to think¡ªI had still made it. It was my choice. I didn¡¯t like it, but I could accept it. Live with it. With that decision made, I studied my hand. The feeling of my mana that suffused and made up my entire body. If I looked hard enough, I could see through the skin to the golden wireframe tracery that was my nerves, veins, muscles, and sinews carved of magic. See the pumping of golden blood through my veins, full of mana. See my bones, glowing brightly. Looking around, I could see and feel mana floating on the air, all around me. From everyone on the boat, soaked into the hull, radiating out faintly from the water outside. Reaching inwards, I pulled for my mana to cast a basic cleaning formula. It came easily. Effortlessly. With so minuscule a draw on my mana that I didn¡¯t notice and with no attention required to do the math as I just shaped it into being. Sighing, I let my hand fall to my side. A snort from nearby drew my attention to the dirty blonde form of Visha sitting up and blinking. Looking around, she spotted me looking at her, and a moment later I had my arms full of a bawling second lieutenant. I can¡¯t claim to have too much experience with dealing with crying girls, outside of those who thought tears would stay my hand when it came time to let them go (they did not). But I wasn¡¯t completely socially inept. I knew the socially expected thing to do here was to offer comfort, even if I wasn¡¯t entirely certain why she was crying to begin with. Reaching out, I wrapped my arms around the form of my subordinate and hugged her. Visha whined and hugged me harder as her crying got louder. I decided I could wait her out. Eventually, Visha settled down and pulled away. Getting up, she made her way over and turned on the cabin light, illuminating the cabin we shared¡ªoffered to us out of the kindness of a couple of the Ingrid¡¯s officers¡¯ hearts. I raised an eyebrow when Visha turned and planted her hands on her hips, glaring at me. ¡°Lieutenant?¡± Visha¡¯s lips pulled into a frown as her eyes narrowed. Reaching up, she plucked her rank insignia off of her uniform and tucked it into her pocket. ¡°I don¡¯t see any lieutenants here.¡± Looking me up and down, she added, ¡°Nor do I see my commanding officer anywhere. That¡¯s strange. All I see is some little idiot who thought it was a good idea to throw herself at the enemy instead of waiting for the rest of her unit to scramble!¡± Huh. That¡¯s¡­ clever, actually. I¡¯m not in uniform and I¡¯m not wearing rank insignia. I probably shouldn¡¯t allow her to talk to me like this, but sometimes it helps if employees can vent their stress at and air their grievances with upper management in a way they can get away with it¡­ That, and Visha had been with me through thick and thin. We had seen each other at our worst, all the way back to our time on the Rhine front. If anyone had earned the right to talk to me without the barrier of rank between us, it was my adjutant and¡­ friend. Deciding to hear her out, I sat up and made myself comfortable, or as comfortable as I could with my back exposed to the cool air of the room and clutching the blankets to my chest. ¡°Would you at least hand me a shirt?¡± ¡°No.¡± I raised an eyebrow at the denial and she asked, ¡°Do you feel vulnerable? Exposed?¡± ¡°A little,¡± I admitted. Although, I wasn¡¯t going to admit what else I was beginning to feel. Alone with Visha. Nude. Her looking at me with those angry eyes¡­ Damn hormones! Damn puberty! ¡°Good! Then maybe you understand just a little how I, how we all feel!¡± Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly. ¡°The others feel it¡¯s not their place to say these things, but they want to say them. They respect you, but they also fear you. They understand that what happened was a miracle, but they speak of you like some kind of angel or saint now, and not¡­ Not a person.¡± Oh, that was a special kind of worrying. ¡°So, it was decided that since I¡¯ve known you the longest, I was to be the one to say them.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s hear it, then.¡± Visha nodded. ¡°We understand why you did what you did. You tried to leave the men behind in the Empire, because you didn¡¯t want to risk drawing them into the crossfire. Sticking them on a submarine, marking time and waiting for death. Why you told us to disengage and what you told the enemy. How you sacrificed yourself for us. But commander¡­ No.¡± Visha shook her head, before moving over and sitting on the bed beside me, taking both of my hands in hers. ¡°Tanya. I¡¯d like to think that after everything we¡¯ve seen, and done, and been through together that I can call you my friend, and I yours.¡± I swallowed on a suddenly dry throat and nodded once. Visha smiled and my heart skipped a beat. ¡°I say this with all of my love as your friend¡­ You are an idiot. A massive, blind, idiot.¡± I opened my mouth and Visha put her finger against my lips. ¡°No. The time for idiots talking is over. Listen to me now.¡± When I nodded, she continued. ¡°We would follow you into hell. We are following you into hell, even now. Every single one of us is willing to lay down our lives for you. So please, stop doing things like this on your own! Stop trying to shield us with your own body¡ªit¡¯s much too small for that! Let us do our jobs! It¡¯s your job to command, to plan, and plot, to lead, and sometimes to fight. It¡¯s our job to carry out those commands, to follow your plans, and to fight and, if necessary, to die in your place. We almost lost you¡­¡± Visha paused, reaching up and wiping at her tears. ¡°I think, for a moment, you really were gone. But you,¡± she looked at Tanya and chuckled quietly, ¡°you¡¯re just so stubborn you refused to stay gone, and you came back somehow. But we don¡¯t want to count on another miracle. We can¡¯t! So from now on, no more reckless actions.¡± I considered what she was saying for a moment. When I had first been given command of the 203rd, I had seen them not as valuable comrades, but as little more than meat shields. Valuable and useful meat shields, but ultimately their purpose was for me to put them between myself and danger. Now¡­ the idea of doing that turned my stomach. So what she was saying, that I should just use them at meat shields, it chaffed. ¡°No.¡± ¡°Tanya¡ª¡± ¡°Listen to me now.¡± I paused, waiting. Visha nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll be more careful, but I won¡¯t needlessly spend your lives or order you to your deaths. I won¡¯t send you to do anything I wouldn¡¯t do myself.¡± Visha studied me for a moment before she smiled happily. ¡°Alright.¡± Gesturing down at myself, I asked, ¡°May I get dressed now?¡± ¡°The ship¡¯s doctor wasn¡¯t really sure what to do with you,¡± Visha admitted as she stood and made her way to my bag, where she began pulling out clothes. ¡°He said you were healthy as far as he could tell. Physically fine, though you appeared drained of mana, so you¡¯ve been asleep for a while¡­ But he had no established doctrine for treating a patient who had returned from the dead.¡± ¡°No, I imagine not,¡± I murmured. ¡°Just an under shirt and pants. I feel like stretching my legs and going for a run.¡± I climbed out of bed and pulled on my undergarments, followed by the rest of my clothes. As I sat down to pull on my boots, I asked, ¡°What¡¯s our status?¡± ¡°You¡¯ve been asleep for a little over three days now. We¡¯ve been carefully running patrols and so far, it seems that no one is pursuing us. The captain says we¡¯re about two days out from our destination. Otherwise, things have been quiet since the battle against the carrier group.¡± ¡°Good,¡± I murmured, tightening my boot laces. I was about to ask Visha the time when the information popped into my head. Blinking, I wondered how I had known that. Closing my eyes, I tried to run down the feeling. After a moment, I realized what it was. Visha¡¯s Type 97, and my own backup tucked away in my bag, both reported time as a basic function. Being able to keep time was kind of a requirement for what amounted to a mechanical magi-computer. I had reached out with my mana as I would have to ping my computation orb for the time and then just¡­ kept reaching. Across the room. ¡°Commander?¡± I shook my head. ¡°Sorry, a bit distracted. We¡¯re running on the surface?¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± ¡°I¡¯m going up for some fresh air and sun, then.¡± Heading back to my bag, I pulled out my patrol cap and tucked my hair under it. ¡°I¡¯ll come with you!¡± Visha hurriedly shrugged off her own uniform jacket and pulled on her own patrol cap before following at my heel. Climbing up to the top of the conning tower, I opened the hatch and stepped out into the crisp sea air, finding Captain Fischer already outside, enjoying a cup of coffee. He looked over his shoulder as I came up, followed by Visha. ¡°Ah, Lt. Colonel Degurechaff, it¡¯s good to see you up and about. You gave us a fright.¡± Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°It¡¯s good to be up,¡± I nodded, taking in deep breaths of the salty sea air. Warm air¡ªor at least warmer than most of the Atlantic at this time of year. The sun reflected brightly off the dark water around us and beat down on me, but to me it just felt¡­ invigorating. Smiling, I asked, ¡°Lt. Serebryakov says we¡¯re only a few days out?¡± ¡°Aye. We should arrive at the mouth of the Para River some time in the afternoon, then it¡¯s another ten or so hours up river to Bellum,¡± Captain Fischer confirmed. ¡°Mm. Let¡¯s keep a low profile coming in, hm?¡± Fischer grinned. ¡°We¡¯re already taking care of it. Have a look,¡± he gestured up and back behind them. I turned and looked up, towards the pole that would carry our flag when we were running on the surface. Instead of the familiar flag of the Reich, I saw the red, white, and blue Union Jack expy that was the Commonwealth flag¡ªthe Allied Kingdom of Albion¡ªwith its rampant griffin with a shield and sword in the center. My eye twitched. ¡°You haven¡¯t painted that on the ship, have you?¡± Sighing, the man nodded. ¡°That we have¡ªmuch as it pains my to mar the Ingrid¡¯s hull with it. She is now the HMS Ingrid, to any who would ask. I¡¯ve already had my people begin altering their uniforms and removing the Imperial flag, and I suggest you do the same.¡± I cast a glance at Visha and she nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll let the others know, ma¡¯am.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°Aside from that,¡± Fischer continued, ¡°we¡¯ll drag our heels a bit on this last leg of the journey and move out of the shipping lanes, then stay over the horizon from the coast until nightfall. Once we enter the river, we won¡¯t be able to dive. Our charts for the area are not up to date or detailed. I¡¯ll need a couple of your men flying ahead, keeping a watch for other ships, obstacles, and the like. Once we¡¯re near Brasa, they¡¯ll need to scout somewhere for us to park the Ingrid while we go ashore. Preferably with tree cover from the sky and shielded from view of the river. We¡¯re going to stand out no matter what, the key is to stand out in a way that doesn¡¯t draw the wrong sort of attention. Our goal is to look like a Commonwealth Navy vessel here on official business, while we¡¯re on the river. That is obviously not going to stand up to scrutiny. And if someone finds us hiding in a little estuary¡­¡± ¡°We need a way to hide the ship on a more permanent basis, then. A covered dock. That should be our first goal in Bellum¡ªfinding a berth for the ship.¡± Fischer nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve heard tales of Bellum¡ªand the Republic of Brasa as a whole. A lawless den of thieves, murderers, and drug lords. Corrupt to the core. Bellum is especially bad.¡± ¡°As have I. And that is precisely what we need right now. A lawless, corrupt land who aren¡¯t going to care who we are as long as we can pay. People who would love to have a submarine and a battalion of aerial mages on hand, along with the rest of our soldiers, on hand for¡­ extra-judicial operations.¡± Sipping his coffee, Fischer frowned. ¡°I don¡¯t like it.¡± ¡°Neither do I. We play the hand we are dealt.¡± When the man grunted noncommittally, I asked, ¡°Do any of your men speak Ispagna?¡± ¡°A few. Lt. Pfeiffer, our communications specialist. Ensign Koch, our cook. Our first mate, Cmdr. Fuchs. And of course myself. And yours?¡± ¡°I speak a bit,¡± I confirmed, before looking at Visha. ¡°Major Weiss, ma¡¯am. I¡¯m not sure about any of the others. I¡¯ll ask.¡± ¡°Alright. So, at a minimum, six people. We should begin teaching the others immediately. Ispagna and English both.¡± Fischer hummed quietly and after a moment of thought, said, ¡°I have a platoon of marine infantry aboard who have been itching for a chance to stretch their legs. What I propose is for one of your men to secure us a skiff or two. I¡¯ll take some marines into Bellum and negotiate for a berth, refueling, and resupply.¡± ¡°And in the meantime, I¡¯ll take some of my men ashore. Two teams, at least¡ªdepending on how many can speak Ispagna. We¡¯ll start gathering information and getting the lay of the land. Do some aerial recon and make some maps of the city and surrounding area. Then reconvene in the morning with our findings and go over what we¡¯ve learned and determine where we need to go from there.¡± ¡°That sounds like a plan,¡± Capt. Fischer grinned. ¡°Well, I should head below and check in. Let me know if you need anything, Colonel.¡± ¡°Of course. Thank you, Captain.¡± I watched the man leave before turning to Visha. ¡°Go talk to Weiss. Have the men modify their uniforms. Find out who else speaks Ispagna and organize classes.¡± ¡°Commander?¡± Visha began, and I raised an eyebrow. ¡°Should I ask the civilians?¡± ¡°Good idea.¡± I grinned as an idea came to me. We were going to be here a while, so it couldn¡¯t hurt to know what our people knew. You never knew what might come in handy, after all. ¡°In fact, I want you to put together a census. Question everyone aboard the ship and make a list of who knows what languages, including the civilians. The more we have, the better. While you¡¯re at it, I want to know their level of education and where they were educated, along with any trades or skills they have experience with, outside of military training. Include operating vehicles. Tractors, boats, planes, trains¡ªif it¡¯s not a car or mechanized infantry, I want to know who can use what.¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± Visha saluted and turned for the hatch. She was halfway down when she paused and sent me a happy smile. ¡°It¡¯s good to have you back.¡± ¡°It¡¯s good to be back,¡± I murmured as she continued her descent and closed the hatch behind her. Moving to the ladder on the side of the conning tower, I made my way down onto the deck and settled in to a set of stretches, then a run. A few of the ship¡¯s crew, my men, and a couple of civilians had gathered at the back of the ship with fishing rods and a couple of buckets, and looked to have caught a decent mess of fish already. I gave them a nod and a smile, but otherwise didn¡¯t disturb their fishing as I fell into the groove of running and let my mind wander. I wanted to focus on what needed to be done in the near future, but at the moment, I was more concerned with the changes I had experienced from my brush with death and reconstituting my body. There were some noticable differences in my physiology that I picked up on as I ran. For starters, I seemed to have far more stamina than I¡¯d had before the accident. I knew my body, knew what it could and couldn¡¯t do, its strengths and weaknesses¡ªit was my greatest asset, after all. So when I hit four miles and barely felt winded, and didn¡¯t really feel much in the way of muscle strain, I knew something was going on. I appear to be losing a bit of mana, the more I run, I realized some time later, on mile eight. Deciding to test myself further, I headed down into the ship to the U-boat¡¯s small fitness room. Setting up a set of weights with my normal limit, I tested them only to find that they felt lighter than they should¡­ and that I felt a trickle of mana spent as I worked myself. It¡¯s almost like using mana reinforcement full time. Mana reinforcement was a basic technique taught to all mages, using magic to strengthen our bodies and make them more durable. It wasn¡¯t even a spell, really¡ªjust a matter of exercising mental control over our own mana. It was how I had survived half the things I had, honestly. So, what if I stop using it? I focused on my mana and forced myself stop using it to reinforce my body. As I had suspected, I was back to my normal limit on the next lift. Am I using it subconsciously now? It was the only explanation I had at the moment, until I could test and formulate a better hypothesis. Like when I had wanted to know the time, I had just done it and not put any thought to it¡ªwhich was, by definition, a subconscious action. Reflex, muscle memory, habit¡ªthat sort of thing. My stomach rumbled and I finished out my exercises, before heading to the mess for lunch, where I was met by Maj. Weiss as soon as I sat down. ¡°Maj. Weiss,¡± I greeted him as he took the seat across from me. ¡°Lt. Colonel,¡± he smiled, picking up his fork and beginning to eat. After a moment to chew and swallow, he asked, ¡°When should we begin operations to secure a skiff, and how do you want it done?¡± ¡°As soon as we enter the mouth of the river, have the lookouts start looking for one. And I¡¯d like it done quietly. We want two motorboats. See if you can just buy them off of their owners. And make sure they don¡¯t leak!¡± Weiss chuckled and nodded. ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am. Visha said you were looking for Ispagna speakers. There are two among the men. PFC Weber and Corporal Braun.¡± ¡°Excellent,¡± I murmured, before pointing my fork at him. ¡°I want three teams. Put Weber and Braun with Grantz and someone to fill in the fourth spot. Take whoever else you want on your team. I¡¯ll be going out with Visha and doing aerial recon. While we¡¯re doing that, get the lay of the land. Find out who runs Bellum¡ªand who really runs the city. Any hot spots or problems in the city we should avoid. I want to know if there is any civil unrest, any fighting going on nearby¡ªspecifically, anywhere we can ply our trade. In the morning, send Weber and Braun with some escorts and start collecting market data. I want to know the price of fuel, bullets, food. Where we can resupply. Where we can secure guns, vehicles, heavy equipment¡ªeither by paying for them, or someone we can safely tactically acquire supplies from. Anything we can exploit to gather money and resources.¡± ¡°I understand. We¡¯ll try to put together a report as soon as we know something.¡± Nodding, I tucked into my meal and started eating with gusto. It was just rations, but the moment I put food in my mouth I realized how hungry I was. Like I hadn¡¯t eaten in¡­ Like I hadn¡¯t eaten at all. Because I had constructed my body from mana. I felt it as the food slid down my throat and into my stomach, where it began to break down¡ªnot by chemical processes but by magic. Frowning, I turned my focus inwards and studied what was happening as I ate. Am I even human anymore? I looked human. I felt¡­ mostly human. I still thought like a human, at least in my own experience. Ah, to be a living ship of Theseus¡ªeven more so than people normally are. Continuity of consciousness is intact, at least, so there is no question over whether I am myself or not. No, the question here is, is this a permanent change and if so, what does it mean for me? Unfortunately, I had no answers at the moment and no way of getting them, save the ¡®wait and see¡¯ approach. So for now, I mostly put it out of my mind, save for studying myself and logging the changes. I¡¯ll need to test my magic later.
The city of Bellum, on the river Para, in the country of Brasa¡­ was a cesspit. A stinking, filthy, crime-ridden cesspit and I had needed a shower the moment I returned to the ship. After successfully entering the Para river, the Ingrid had traveled inland in the dead of night at ten knots. Weiss managed to secure a couple of skiffs for us at what I felt was probably an outrageous sum, practically highway robbery. Or piracy, given we were on the water. But it was a seller¡¯s market¡ªsupply was low and our demand was high. Aside from passing a few ships in the night on their way out into the Atlantic, we didn¡¯t run into any trouble. Everything was quiet. We found a small cove just upstream from Bellum and anchored the Ingrid out of view of the river, after which Captain Fischer and I ordered some of our men to cut down limbs and make temporary camouflage for the ship. After getting that sorted, Weiss and his party departed in one skiff and Fischer and his men in another¡ªthough, on Weiss¡¯s suggestion, one of our aerial mages went with them, so they could keep in contact by short range magical transmission. Visha and I took to the sky and split up to begin our reconnaissance. This is where I learned just how much had changed with me, after the explosion. I brought along a Type 97, but I quickly found that I didn¡¯t need it. Keeping up a flight formula came naturally to me. I knew all the variables by heart and I could have done the math in my sleep before. Now? My mana knew the pattern, like it was etched into my soul. Running through all of the other formulas I knew turned up the same result¡ªI had no need of a computation orb, even when using multiple formulas at the same time, because I had absolute control over my mana and I intrinsically understood each like it had been carved into me. Even the basic functions of the Type 95, of any modern computation orb really, were burned into my mana¡ªallowing me to record audio and video, take pictures, know the time and date, listen to and broadcast on the magical short and long range¡­ Most importantly, I could still produce and store mana, fixing it in place within myself. I¡¯d learned that, after eating my first meal since waking up, my body appeared to process food and generate mana from calories much more efficiently. I could even feel my magical body using the food to create squishy biological parts with little real input on my part¡ªas though I was doing it out of memory of my body. I had reigned in my desire to cut loose and really experiment and stuck to the mission. Once I had the photos taken, I radioed in with everyone before meeting up with Visha and heading into the city to check out the nightlife. Spinning up a sniping formula, I surveyed the city and looked around for an easy mark. Upon finding it, I hid a malicious grin as I led Visha to a restaurant where a bunch of men were playing cards. After a bit of negotiation, and explaining that my friend didn¡¯t speak the language but would very much like to try a few hands of cards, I set the shark loose amongst the koi while I ordered for Visha and I and enjoyed eating something that wasn¡¯t K-Brot and drinking a cup of fresh, real coffee. Visha cleaned them out, but even the language barrier wasn¡¯t an problem for her when she could just flash that apologetic smile, laugh, and stick out her tongue. And just like that, the power of moe won over the hearts of what were likely gangsters, dispelling most of the hard feelings over the loss. The rest went away when Visha asked me to buy them a round of drinks. Once the men got a little liquor in them, I got down to business. While I trusted Weiss and his teams to get the information I wanted, it wouldn¡¯t hurt to get my own hands dirty. ¡°So, tell me¡­ where can an enterprising soldier of fortune and her mercenary company find some honest work in Brasa? Or not so honest. We aren¡¯t picky,¡± I asked, in Ispagna. ¡°Ah, senora,¡± the oldest of the men there grinned as he chewed on his cigar. I had been using my NBC formula most of the night to filter the nasty stuff out. ¡°For someone looking to get their hands dirty, you could throw a stone and find someone willing to pay.¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure. However, we¡¯re looking for something that pays well. Someone who would appreciate the value of our labor and see that we are properly compensated for our time¡ªpreferably on a regular basis.¡± ¡°Ah, well, there are a few in the city¡­¡± I listened, making mental notes of who we needed to approach later. Finally, with the city¡¯s night life winding down, Visha and I left the bar and started walking towards the docks. Keying up on our encrypted short range, I ordered, ¡°Away teams, report.¡± Weiss came back first. ¡°Bravo team, finished and waiting at the skiff.¡± ¡°Charlie team, we uh, I think we have some trouble. We¡¯re heading back, but a bunch of guys are following us. They look like they want to start a fight,¡± Grantz reported in. ¡°Roger that, Charlie Lead. We¡¯ll come back you up and discourage them,¡± Weiss immediately made the call himself. I knew they had brought weapons in the skiff and my men could handle themselves, so I wasn¡¯t worried about them. ¡°Understood. Good hunting, Bravo team. Ingrid team, report.¡± ¡°Ingrid Two, Alpha Lead. We¡¯ve secured a berth and supplies for the Ingrid and we¡¯ve sent men back to retrieve the ship.¡± ¡°Excellent news, Ingrid Two! Where are our new lodgings? We¡¯ll move our rendezvous point there.¡± ¡°Berth eight. It¡¯s the large covered building on the far north eastern side of the docks. We¡¯ll meet you there, Alpha Lead.¡± ¡°Roger that. You heard them, everyone report to the docks.¡± I signed off and Visha and I hurried to the dock area. I was eager to get a shower and climb into bed. We had a busy day tomorrow, starting bright and early. After all, we had a lot of ground to cover, and very quickly, if we were going to secure the future of the Salamander Kampfgruppe. We¡¯re going to have to change our name. Cut all ties to our homeland. Until such a time as the Empire truly does rise again¡­ or the men lose hope of it happening and shift their focus fully onto ourselves. 03 A Young Girl¡¯s Outer Heaven 03
Commissioned by Sneakydevil.
We gathered in the Ingrid¡¯s briefing room the following morning. Accepting a cup of coffee from Visha, I sipped it and nearly choked. Coughing to clear my airway, I looked to Visha, who merely smiled brightly. ¡°This is not ersatz coffee.¡± ¡°No ma¡¯am.¡± ¡°I uh, well, I thought you might like some fresh coffee, commander. So we bought a few bags of beans before things went south,¡± Grantz scratched at his head, looking embarrassed. ¡°You¡¯re a good man, Grantz. I¡¯ll mark this in your permanent folder. This kind of initiative deserves a reward. Keep it up, and when we¡¯ve secured funding and a base of operations, I¡¯ll see to it you get a raise. Perhaps even a promotion,¡± I promised, before slowly sipping at my coffee and enjoying the flavors. Sweet and soft. Not exactly high quality, but better than I¡¯ve had in a while, outside of Ildoan. This must be Arabica. And, of course, made just how I like it. Thank you, Visha. Weiss unrolled a map and laid it out on the table. Looking it over, I found it was a map of the country, already marked with several locations of interest. A second map was rolled out on top of the first, showing the city and surrounding areas¡ªalso marked in Weiss¡¯ neat script. He set weights at the corners before accepting a cup from Visha. A moment later, we were joined by Captain Fischer and his executive officer, Commander Fuchs¡ªa tall, statuesque blonde woman in her late 20s, with a trim figure that I wasn¡¯t quite sure I wanted to sink my teeth into¡­ or that I hoped my body would grow into. After all, sex appeal was a tool to use just like any other. At the moment, Tanya¡ªI got by on my youthful, angelic looks. At thirteen, I was finally starting to sprout up in height and beginning to shed the cherubic look that had contributed to my success by making people underestimate me. I¡¯m going to miss being a tiny, slim target during aerial maneuvers. And then there¡¯s the thrust to weight ratio¡­ But perhaps the trade off will be worth it. If only in the utility of leveraging my looks in a different way. Beautiful women make men stupid and lower their guard. There was, of course, the question of what I was going to actually do with that beauty if I attained it. Of who I would pursue, romantically speaking. I had no interest in men at all and while the Empire had been relatively open-minded about the subject of homosexual relations from a legal standpoint so long as one¡¯s private life was kept private, I wasn¡¯t certain of other places¡ªsuch as Brasa. But until we secured a future for ourselves beyond tomorrow, such thoughts were a luxury I didn¡¯t have. So, I put the thought aside to deal with at a much later date and focused on the here and now as the meeting started. ¡°Good morning, everyone,¡± Fischer greeted, and everyone likewise went through the usual pleasantries. After a moment, he nodded to the map. ¡°You¡¯ve secured us some up to date maps, I take it?¡± ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Maj. Weiss confirmed. ¡°I spent most of the night compiling what we¡¯ve gathered. With your permission, I¡¯ll begin,¡± he looked to me. ¡°Go ahead,¡± I agreed, before going back to my delicious coffee. ¡°Thank you.¡± Weiss took out a notepad from his pocket and began reading. ¡°Our initial intelligence gathering has turned up several factions within the city of Bellum. These factions are divided up between government forces, gangs of varying size, and anti-government radicals.¡± ¡°From the top down then, major,¡± I instructed. ¡°Bellum is the capital and largest city of the state of Para, within Brasa. It can be roughly divided into five zones.¡± He pointed out each as he began to list them. ¡°Shipping and the docks on the far north. Directly to our south, the business district. The next area down is all residential and small businesses. Day laborers and the like. This also contains the shantytown slums, the favelas in the local tongue. To the far south, the government district. Government facilities, schools, and a college. And then there are the outlying areas, which is basically everywhere else. All these little islands in the river, farmland to the east.¡± Using his computation orb, Weiss projected a series of photographs over the map, all of them taken from local newspapers. ¡°If we¡¯re starting from the very top, then this is Julio Vargas, the ¡®democratically elected leader¡¯ of Brasa. In reality, he is a military dictator.¡± Weiss made one of the photos larger and I examined the man in question. He looked to be in his early 40s. He wore a suit with a cape and several ropes at the shoulders and in the photo he stood tall, posing with a saber planted on the ground and his hands resting on the pommel. His dark hair was starting to thin out and he had a look in his eyes that I didn¡¯t like. Something about his face and eyes reminded me of early photos of Vladimir Lenin, before he lost his hair. ¡°Brasa is currently undergoing a revolution, supposedly driven by communist infiltrators and dissenters from Sao Paulo.¡± I clicked my tongue as Visha and Grantz both made faces at that. Fuchs grunted a quiet, ¡°Communists,¡± filled with an impressive amount of loathing. ¡°It gives us an opening,¡± I pointed out, and Fischer nodded. ¡°She¡¯s right. The government has a problem and we could be the solution.¡± ¡°It¡¯ll be just like back home, colonel,¡± Grantz joked. Visha nodded. ¡°Even better, because we won¡¯t be freezing our toes off!¡± ¡°Yes, I suppose I should think of this as a chance for us to get some live fire target practice in,¡± I mused as my lips twitched into a grin. I motioned for Weiss to continue and he did. ¡°Focusing on the city¡­ The government here in Bellum is divided between the state and the city. The governor is a former general of the Brasa military, Pedro Vasquez.¡± Another photo. This time of an older, hard looking gentleman in his sixties, with thick, dark hair with white at the temples, an equally thick mustache, and a deeply lined and serious tanned face. Or at least I assumed he was tan. It was hard to tell from a black and white newspaper photo. Vasquez wore a dark suit and looked like the very image of an old war horse put out to pasture. A man who was still large of stature and strong, but had gone soft about the middle. ¡°He¡¯s a hard line conservative and Brasa nationalist. He¡¯s on record as stating that the president should deploy the military to deal with the cocaine growers and traffickers, and the communist insurgents before they can spread and infect the country. He has control over the state military forces, but from what we¡¯ve been able to gather, President Vargas is content to sit on his hands and order Vasquez to do the same.¡± ¡°He may be open to using someone else to clean up those problems,¡± I surmised, and Weiss nodded. ¡°We should pay him a visit at some point in the near future. Who¡¯s next?¡± ¡°The mayor, Juan Igual.¡± A new photo, this time of a man in his late 30s perhaps. Just looking at him, I felt like he would be trouble. He was tall, with messy dark hair, a dark pinstripe suit, and clean shaven. The man looked like a thug, and I half expected to see him holding a Thompson and yelling, ¡°Say hello to my little friend!¡± That, or buried face first in a mountain of white powder high enough to ski down. ¡°Everything we¡¯ve gathered says he¡¯s corrupt. Owned by the cartels. The police supposedly reflect that and have been shaking down local businesses for protection money, taking bribes, and the usual.¡± ¡°Of course,¡± Fischer murmured. ¡°Moving on, next we have the various heads of the local trade unions, but all of them report to the harbor master, supposedly.¡± ¡°I heard about him last night, but I¡¯d like to hear what you have to say.¡± Weiss nodded. ¡°I don¡¯t have a photo of him, unfortunately. Nor do we know much about him personally. Just that he likes to keep out of the city politics and he¡¯s running a smuggling ring¡ªprobably working with the cartels. I¡¯ve heard that there have been some issues with piracy, both along the trade routes to the north and south and the trans-Atlantic route typically shipping to Africa.¡± ¡°We could easily hire ourselves out as an escort, captain,¡± Fuchs suggested. ¡°Yes,¡± Fischer turned to me and added, ¡°it would necessitate some logistics, however. My men can take care of maintenance for the Ingrid, but we would still need parts, a more permanent drydock to conduct work, ammunition and torpedoes, fuel and other supplies. We¡¯ve secured food, water, and fuel for now along with a temporary berth, but ideally we would like to have our own base of operations.¡± ¡°Agreed,¡± I nodded. ¡°We¡¯ll see what we can do. At the very least, we need to get housing for everyone off the Ingrid¡ªthat way you can run escort missions and it won¡¯t impact my men and my own operations.¡± Weiss took that moment to continue. ¡°Next, we have the local gangs and the cartels. There are apparently too many small gangs to even bother naming and territory changes hands daily. There are two criminal elements everyone should be aware of, however. The first are the most dangerous. Los Carniceros¡ªthe Butchers. Thieves, murderers, rapists, arsonists, drug dealers. They kidnap people to take to their human trafficking ring outside the city. That was who Grantz ran into last night. They wanted to fight even after we showed up, but after the first few died, they scattered. Some of them wear a green bandanna, but most of them apparently prefer to blend into the crowd. Makes it easier to take people off the streets.¡± I nodded. ¡°Spread the word among the men. No one is to go out alone. Teams of four, sidearms and submachine guns. Make sure to keep your computation orbs on hand. Captain,¡± I looked to Fischer, ¡°if you send anyone out, let one of my officers know and we¡¯ll assign you a two mage escort.¡± ¡°Thank you, colonel.¡± ¡°These people are kill on sight if they engage, do you understand? However, if you think you can safely take a few prisoners to bring in for interrogation, do so. I¡¯d very much like to know everything we can about them, and then remove them from this Earth.¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± Weiss nodded, Grantz and Visha echoing him. ¡°The second criminal element is one of the large Brasa cartels. Familia del Verde¡ªFamily of the Green. They are allegedly the president¡¯s backers and a government sanctioned cartel. The largest in Brasa. They export to the Unified States and Europe, and much of that passes through Bellum and leaves from these docks. They¡¯re based in Sao Paolo, but have a large branch here in Bellum to look after their product. ¡°Finally, there are the anti-government revolutionaries. A communist group calling themselves El Puno del Pueblo, the People¡¯s Fist, based in Sao Paolo. They¡¯re extremely well-funded and have amassed a private army by buying up old surplus military equipment from the Brasa government. It¡¯s not new equipment, but it works well enough to roll over any city they care to. Which they¡¯ve done, taking over the state of Sao Paolo, the capital of which has become their base of operations. Everything I¡¯ve seen says the president believes that the revolution will wear itself out eventually, so he¡¯s been doing nothing, aside from reinforcing a few cities.¡± And with that bit of information, everything became clear to me. Sao Paolo was where the communist infection was spreading from. It was also where the largest cartel in Brasa was based. There was simply no way that these two groups weren¡¯t connected. Not just connected, but in bed together. I would put money on the communists having taken root in the cartel, in order to use their influence and money to spread and finance their goals¡ªlikely with the promise that Familia del Verde would effectively rule the country when all was said and done. The president was on the payroll, so this whole ¡®revolution¡¯ was really less about overthrowing him and more about getting rid of the old guard. Generals like Vasquez, who didn¡¯t want to see their country fall to commies and cartels, poisoned by drugs and the rotten ideals of communism. Vargas had to look like he was doing something, otherwise he would likely be put in front of a firing squad. But that didn¡¯t mean he had to be effective at whatever he was doing. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. Vasquez retired, but I had my doubts about whether it was his choice. If it was, it either happened before Vargas took office, or after when he showed himself to be ¡®incompetent.¡¯ I needed more information there, but I didn¡¯t think it really mattered. Either Vasquez had retired and now felt like the current president was turning out to be an idiot or in bed with the cartel, or he had quit in disgust after seeing it firsthand. Either way, I could use that angle. We were outsiders. We had no ties to the communists, the cartels, or the government. We were a group of German ex-patriots turned soldiers of fortune. Our loyalty was for sale. Tony Montana¡ªThat¡¯s what it was! He looks like Pacino! And now I can¡¯t unsee it. That is, Juan Igual, was quite obviously another puppet of the Green Family cartel and, by proxy, the People¡¯s Fist. That made him a natural enemy of Governor Vasquez. The question is, who should we side with? I almost laughed out loud at the thought. There was only one morally right answer and it was obvious. Whichever side is killing communists, naturally! However, before I could get too deep into the weeds on the benefits of a full communist purge of Brasa, I reminded myself that we were here for a reason. It wasn¡¯t just myself and the Salamander Kampfgruppe. We were here with the Ingrid and her crew, and the families of many of my men. We were here to start over. To establish a forward operating base and secure a home for our people. The unspoken agreement between everyone was that we would eventually return to the Empire for the rest of the men¡¯s families and those of the Ingrid¡¯s crew. That, or find a way to get into contact with them and have them brought to us by ship. Either way, we needed to have a new home for them to come to. Do we really want to get tied up in local politics, if it could bring danger to their families? Can we afford not to involve ourselves, when the alternative is letting the communists go unchecked, and potentially come for my men¡¯s families regardless of whether or not we stick our noses in? Thinking about it like that, the answer was obvious. You couldn¡¯t sleep next to a rabid dog. Either we need to burn the communist infection out entirely, or we need to find somewhere else to go. The problem is, there aren¡¯t too many places we can go that will offer us the sort of opportunities to ply our trade that a country in the middle of a revolution will. So¡­ we¡¯ll have to make sure they¡¯re secure, wherever we set them up. Secure and guarded. That, we can do. Then, we need to make sure that they can¡¯t tie our organization to our families, or even to any one country. We need to become an international company of mercenaries, who can go anywhere and work for anyone. No. Not mercenaries. Not a foreign legion. Not soldiers of fortune. A military without borders. A private military company. ¡°¡ªand that¡¯s where we stand on our treasury,¡± Visha finished, and I frowned at having missed it. But knowing Visha, she had everything written down, so I could just review it later. I had the gist of it, though. Our war chest was limited and dwindling rapidly with the burden of paying to refuel our only means of transportation, and pay for food and water. We needed to start making money quickly. To that end, I said, ¡°Captain, why don¡¯t you take a few of my men with you and go speak with the harbormaster? See if you can scrounge up some work for the Ingrid.¡± ¡°Cmdr. Fuchs, I¡¯ll leave that to you,¡± Fischer said to his second in command, who nodded. ¡°Aye, captain.¡± ¡°Weiss, send Cpl. Braun with them, just so there¡¯s no confusion.¡± ¡°Yes, colonel.¡± ¡°In the meantime Weiss, I need you to come with me. We¡¯re going to pay a visit to the governor. Grantz, put together a scouting team. I want an area nearby for the men to run drills.¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am!¡± With that, we called an end to the meeting. Before I could leave, however, Fischer said, ¡°Lt. Col. von Degurechaff, Maj. Weiss, Cmdr. Fuchs, please stay.¡± I held back and Fuchs closed the door behind Visha and Grantz, leaving just the four of us. ¡°Was there something you needed, captain?¡± The man sighed and nodded. ¡°A potential issue I wanted to bring to light, before it became a problem.¡± ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°We have left the fatherland. However, we are still operating as though we are Imperial troops.¡± I nodded. ¡°A¡­ combined army and navy unit, yes. That¡¯s how I¡¯ve been thinking of it.¡± ¡°Likewise,¡± Fischer agreed. ¡°I believe that a slight restructuring is in order. Someone needs to be in overall command. As a captain, I have the superior rank.¡± I frowned, but nodded. ¡°However, your force is the larger of the two. You have more experience leading a large, disparate force made up of multiple elements. Therefor, lieutenant colonel, I am hereby field promoting you colonel¡ªwhich is equivalent to a naval captain. Maj. Weiss and Cmdr. Fuchs are our witnesses for this.¡± ¡°Yes, captain,¡± Fuchs agreed, echoed a moment later by Weiss. ¡°You will have overall command of our joint forces, however, my authority takes precedence on my boat.¡± ¡°Of course,¡± I agreed. Looking to Weiss, I sent the man a grin. ¡°Congratulations on your promotion, Lt. Col. Weiss. You are in command of the Kampfgruppe. Captain Serebryakov is in charge of the 203rd, when she isn¡¯t serving in her duties as my adjutant. Let the men know.¡± With that, we broke up and went about our tasks.
¡°It¡¯s beautiful,¡± Weiss commented as we rode along in a small military truck¡ªsomething that looked very much like a Jeep. Looking around the small villa that was the governor¡¯s estate, I nodded. Brick and adobe construction, thick green lawn, flower beds full of large, vibrant flowers. But as pretty as the scenery was, I couldn¡¯t help clocking the guards patrolling the area. The guard towers with snipers on the lookout. The fortified entry we had driven through. I couldn¡¯t blame the governor for the security however, given that there had been more than one attempt on his life. We stopped at the main entrance to the large house and the driver stepped out. ¡°I must ask that you relinquish your sidearms to me. They will be returned to you when you leave.¡± Weiss and I shared a look, before we both removed and unloaded our sidearms, keeping the magazines. It didn¡¯t matter that they had the guns when Weiss had his computation orb and I didn¡¯t need one anymore. We were led inside, down sunlit marble halls cooled by ceiling fans, to a door our escort held open. Inside, we found an office with the window open and the ceiling fan going. It barely helped. The heat here was thick and oppressive, and I was miserable in my uniform. I made a mental note to look into some sort of climate control formula. I was sure that with enough time, I could make one. Until then, I would just have to endure. Seated behind the desk was Governor Vasquez, who stood upon our arrival. He looked us both over, before turning his eyes to Weiss. ¡°Welcome. You wished to speak with me, Colonel von Degurechaff?¡± Weiss coughed into his fist and shot me an apologetic look. I looked up at him and winked, signaling him to play along. ¡°Good morning, governor. I am Lt. Col. Matheus Johan Weiss.¡± The pair shook hands and the governor gestured at the chairs. ¡°Please, sit. Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea? Perhaps some cocoa for your companion?¡± ¡°Coffee, please,¡± Weiss nodded. ¡°Andre, two coffees¡ª¡± ¡°Let¡¯s make it three, if you would?¡± Weiss corrected, and when the general looked at me, I simply smiled and nodded. ¡°Very well,¡± the governor nodded and the attendant left. Leaning back in his chair, Governor Vasquez studied us for a moment before he began. ¡°So, what brings a German Imperial military unit to Brasa? Trying to outrun the war crime courts, now that your country has surrendered?¡± Weiss sat up straighter, a severe frown on his face. ¡°Governor, you are a military man yourself, correct?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± ¡°Then surely you¡¯ve come across situations where the rules of war were not clearly and cleanly written down? Situations where there is no black and white correct answer? Perhaps even situations where there are laws on the books, but they keep you from achieving your objectives, and so you creatively interpret them to suit your needs.¡± The man grinned. ¡°Oh yes. Many a time has bureaucracy attempted to tie my hands and I¡¯ve wished for a way around it. Sometimes, by finding creative solutions, certainly. Other times yes, the laws were not clear or there were no laws at all.¡± ¡°Then would you wish to sit and be judged by your enemies for the crime of besting them? Would you go, knowing that if there were not laws already on the books, the enemy would make new ones just for you and find you retroactively guilty of breaking them? Would you go to such a circus sham trial, knowing that you are to be a sacrifice for your country, to appease the enemy, when appeasement will only make them bolder?!¡± Weiss¡¯s voice had now risen and the man was starting to turn red under the collar. I reached out and laid a hand on his arm. After a moment, Weiss took a deep breath and let it out all at once. ¡°My apologies, governor¡ª¡± Governor Vasquez laughed, shaking his head. ¡°No, no! I understand. Truly, I do. I apologize. I wanted to test you, one soldier to another. You truly understand the plight of the soldier in today¡¯s political climate.¡± ¡°We do.¡± ¡°Mm. Tell me, what do you know about the situation here in Brasa? In Para?¡± ¡°Only what information we have gathered since arriving. That your government is experiencing a revolution, led and fomented by communists who have taken over Sao Paolo. Your president refuses to do anything about it. The communists are most likely in bed with the cartels, who allegedly own the president. The cartels are working to secure power for themselves. And the mayor and police force of Bellum seem to be corrupt.¡± Vasquez sighed deeply, before nodding. ¡°That about sums it up.¡± ¡°If you don¡¯t mind my asking, governor. One of the questions my commander wanted to ask was whether you retired before or after the president took office.¡± Vasquez pulled a face. ¡°After. I was disgusted by the man¡¯s incompetence. It was only later that I realized it wasn¡¯t incompetence, but that he is complicit in the attempt to subvert our nation and destroy everything we hold dear. He is too enamored with money from the cocaine sold by the cartel to care about the yoke the communists will put on us should they take power. You need only look at Sao Paolo to see what they intend for the rest of us. Starvation of the people, bread lines, confiscation of personal wealth, multiple families moved into large homes, labor camps, firing squads for anyone who dares to dissent or try to flee¡­ It¡¯s monstrous.¡± It was at that moment that Andre returned. We accepted our cups and, as a matter of habit, I cast a poison detection formula. Frowning, I snapped, ¡°Weiss.¡± The man froze, cup halfway to his lips, as did the governor. ¡°Is there a problem, miss¡­?¡± I lifted the cup to my nose and inhaled, savoring the scent. ¡°This is a fine blend. One of the finest I¡¯ve ever had the pleasure to smell. I¡¯m not familiar with this particular bean and the scent of bitter almonds amongst the otherwise complex and rich aroma could just be how the roast presents. What I am familiar with, however, is my own magic¡ªand the results of a poison detection formula.¡± I placed the cup in the tray and put them on the desk in disappointment as Weiss did likewise, an angry look crossing his face. Behind us, Andre attempted to leave, but Weiss turned and gestured, and the man was launched across the room where he was pressed into the wall. Standing, I sighed, putting my hands behind my back. ¡°Governor, I assume that if you had any intention of poisoning us, you wouldn¡¯t be so foolish as to poison your own cup.¡± ¡°Poison¡­?¡± the man asked, looking at his cup, before his eyed hardened. ¡°Andre?¡± The captured man spat in our general direction. ¡°The revolution will not be stopped by the likes of you! The people will be free! We will¡ª¡± ¡°Weiss, shut him up.¡± ¡°Ma¡¯am,¡± Weiss nodded, before walking over and slamming a fist into Andre¡¯s gut, before grabbing him up in a head lock. ¡°Be quiet.¡± ¡°We are no strangers to the madness of communism, governor,¡± I began, turning my focus back on the man behind the desk. ¡°We were there, on the eastern front, fighting them in their own towns. We watched them send wave after wave of their people at us, into the teeth of our machine guns, knowing that they would be chewed up without a care for the wasteful loss of life. We¡¯ve seen them starve, beat, and execute their own. We¡¯ve seen how their aerial mages are treated¡ªlocked up in the gulag when they were a threat, then rolled out to be thrown at us when they became useful again. Poison is the weapon of cowards, or a weapon of terror for cowing a populace. So it is no surprise that the communists would resort to using it against yourself and a new perceived threat.¡± The man considered Andre and Weiss, before looking at his coffee cup. After a moment, his dark brown eyes met my silver-blue. ¡°Who are you? It has become obvious that I¡¯ve made a fool of myself by making an assumption.¡± I held my hand over my chest and bowed slightly, putting on my best innocent smile. For some reason, Vasquez shivered in the uncomfortable heat. ¡°Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff. Leader of the Salamander Kampfgruppe. Aerial mage and veteran of the first World War.¡± ¡°But you¡¯re¡­¡± ¡°Just a girl?¡± I asked, and he nodded. ¡°All children are tested for magical aptitude in the Empire at a young age. When I discovered I was a mage, I enlisted at the age of nine. The alternative was wait to be drafted into service, and the only way to enter the officers¡¯ track and advance past a certain point was to volunteer. Unfortunately, I was not expecting a war to start on my first tour of duty, and so my dreams of retiring to the rear to a cushy job behind a desk were dashed.¡± Weiss laughed. When I turned and raised an eyebrow, he grinned. ¡°Sorry, Colonel. I have a hard time picturing you as a pencil pusher. We all know you¡¯re one of us.¡± ¡°Yes, my band of bloodthirsty war junkies,¡± I murmured, before turning back to Vasquez. ¡°I apologize for the deception, governor. I wanted to test you, one soldier to another.¡± The governor chuckled quietly. ¡°I see. I suppose that is fair. Now, let¡¯s get rid of this before someone accidentally drinks it, then get that traitor out of my office.¡± The man stood and went to the door, calling in a guard to have Andre removed and fresh coffee brought, before dumping the bad coffee out the window and throwing the cups in the garbage. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯d be interested in lending me some of your aerial mages as a security detail?¡± Weiss and I retook our seats. Crossing my leg over my knee, I laced my fingers in my lap as I considered it. ¡°Weiss, how many do you think we could spare, on a rotation?¡± ¡°A platoon, easily. Perhaps two.¡± ¡°Twelve men,¡± I murmured, before nodding. ¡°We¡¯ll need to work out an appropriate rate for our services, of course. Aerial mages are expensive to field. That¡¯s assuming we¡¯re allowed to operate in your airspace?¡± ¡°Yes, absolutely. You and your people are free to operate within Brasa airspace. Not that we have any means of actually detecting you. And I¡¯ll pay whatever it takes,¡± Vasquez agreed immediately. I waved a hand dismissively. ¡°Something to work out another time. Weiss, make the call and have some men sent over.¡± The man nodded and stepped outside to make the call. While he did that, I asked, ¡°How does it feel, to see a disease spreading across your country, only to have your leader tell you to sit on your hands and ignore it?¡± Vasquez frowned, his jaw clenching so hard I could nearly hear his teeth grinding from where I sat. ¡°Infuriating.¡± ¡°Well, as it turns out, my Salamander Kampfgruppe is very good at fighting communists. You could say that it¡¯s a rather large section of our resume, under ¡®past work experience.¡¯ Right under ¡®fighting against the best aerial mages Europe had to offer.¡¯ We have no ties to any political factions within the country. We are something they aren¡¯t expecting and so can¡¯t plan for. And perhaps most importantly for you¡­ we are an entirely deniable asset. A military without borders, capable of going anywhere and taking on any mission. Answerable only to the client.¡± The door opened and a uniformed man came in with a tray, cups, and a carafe of fresh coffee, followed by Weiss. Once again, I cast the poison detection formula. When it came up clean, I nodded. I waited until we had our cups and the soldier had left, before sipping at my delicious coffee and sighing happily. Looking at Vasquez over the rim of my cup, I asked, ¡°The way I see it, governor, you have a problem. No one else can help. We¡¯ve found you. Would you like to hire us?¡± 04 A Young Girl¡¯s Outer Heaven 04
Commissioned by Sneakydevil.
¡°Gentlemen. Visha.¡± ¡°Colonel!¡± the others snapped to attention. ¡°At ease.¡± I nodded to the members of the kampfgruppe as I walked into the ad-hoc briefing room in the wing we had been loaned in the governor¡¯s villa as part of our agreement to keep a permanent presence on-site. Visha was at my side a moment later, taking my coffee cup and allowing me to lay out the map the governor had provided. Weiss, helpful man that he was, helped me spread it across the table and weigh it down, without me having to stretch and failing to reach. ¡°I know I promised you all a nice, long vacation here in Brasa. White sand beaches, sparkling blue waters,¡± I paused and grinned as I added, ¡°lovely senoritas.¡± The men catcalled, laughing and cheering, and I let them have a moment to get it out of their system. It always helped to break the tension before an operation, after all. Eventually, I held up a hand and motioned for them to tone it down. ¡°Unfortunately, I must be that boss. The one who calls you in from your vacation to work overnight.¡± Pulling my telescoping pointer from my pocket, I tapped the map¡ªspecifically, the northwestern most island on Bellum¡¯s coast. ¡°This is Colina. Creatively named ¡®Hill¡¯ in Ispagna.¡± The island measured 4.9 miles long from its furthest points and 2.1 miles wide at its widest. For the most part, it was covered in dense trees, aside from a few farms, some ponds, a town in the middle, and our targets. ¡°And these,¡± I moved the pointer to the southern tip, then up to a flat area on the northwestern coast, ¡°are our targets. On the northern end of the island, an old castle. A leftover from Ispagna¡¯s colonial days. Intelligence says it¡¯s still intact and has been turned into a stronghold for the communists, and some modifications made to the structure. They¡¯re using it to mark ships coming and going from Bellum and those that aren¡¯t on their list of approved naval traffic have been mysteriously coming under attack by pirates after leaving¡ªif their cargo is worth taking. On the southern end is a much newer structure¡ªan older garrison that was abandoned when they built a new one inland. This houses the bulk of the commie forces on the island. Visha, if you would?¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± she nodded, and a moment later, projected an illusion from her computation orb¡ªphotos taken during our aerial reconnaissance. There were lots of high quality photos of both structures, along with the other points of interest on the island. Most importantly however, were the photos of their equipment. Stepping closer to the pictures, Capt. Ahrens hummed. ¡°Six BA-10 armored cars, two T-34 medium tanks, three PB-4 amphibious units, two NI-1¡¯s, and a BA-64. Colonel, those are new. We were only just seeing them deployed on the front.¡± ¡°I¡¯m aware, captain,¡± I nodded. ¡°It means they¡¯re getting shipments from the motherland.¡± ¡°I¡¯m more worried about the artillery,¡± Capt. Maybert spoke up, pointing out the artillery pieces in question, lined up in neat rows and ready for deployment. ¡°Twelve 76mm divisional guns and four 122mm guns. It may be commie trash, but this represents a lot of firepower.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a lot of gear for a little island, colonel,¡± Grantz mused. ¡°Why do they have so much?¡± ¡°The governor informed me that they¡¯ve been receiving more shipments from the south, recently¡ªby river. It could be that they plan to make a move on Bellum openly. At least, that is his theory, and I happen to agree. Colina is not the only base nearby, just the one we¡¯re interested in today. Sao Domingos to the southeast has been captured by the commies, and Santa Maria to the east is owned by the Green Family cartel. The first is on the Guama River¡ªmeaning they have a straight shot up the river right to us. It¡¯s also right on one of the two roads that lead through Brasa to Sao Paolo, the other being the road that goes through Santa Maria. If they were halfway competent¡­¡± I paused and chuckled, ¡°I know, we¡¯ve never accused the communists of competence. However, if we assume a minimum level of strategic acumen beyond human wave tactics, then both Sao Domingos and Santa Maria are good points to take over if they want to cut off our land trade and have easy access to us from the river and from land. A competent commander would be planning a three-way pincer move. By land, from the east. By the river from the south. And from the island by boat, from the north. You could secure everything of importance in Bellum in a night, if you did it right.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a good plan. And completely outside the norm for the communists,¡± Weiss pointed out. ¡°But that could just be down to the local leadership not being as incompetent as what we¡¯re used to seeing from the eastern front.¡± ¡°They do like to convert locals to their ends,¡± Visha murmured, a frown on her pretty face as she considered the map. Looking up, she asked, ¡°But that sounds like a problem for another day. What are your orders, colonel?¡± ¡°Oh, that¡¯s simple. I want that island. Strategically, it¡¯s valuable, given its placement on the river, with ready made fortifications to the north and south. There¡¯s a lot of land there and the governor is fine with giving us the island as a whole, so long as we don¡¯t evict the citizens already there or interfere in their day to day lives. It¡¯s somewhere we can construct permanent housing for our own civilians. Not to mention a dry dock for the Ingrid. Colina is going to be our new home for the immediate future. The deal is done. We just need to do a little pest removal and a few renovations before we claim ownership. To that end, we will be conducting a night raid. A joint operation between the Salamander Kampfgruppe and the marines of the Ingrid. The governor has secured us a boat for our non-mage troops to use, but I¡¯m sending a half company from the 203rd as backup and for communication, as we¡¯ll be leaving half a company with the governor. They will approach from the east side of the island, then circle around the northern tip to land here,¡± I pointed to an area a mile up the beach from the fortress, ¡°where they will then advance through cover to take the fortress.¡± Pointing to the garrison, I continued, ¡°As for the rest of our aerial mages, I¡¯m afraid we¡¯ll be doing the lion¡¯s share of the work. We¡¯ll ascend to 5000 above the target and wait. When the marine team is in place, we¡¯ll drop in and engage the enemy in a surprise assault. I want to try to take things as quickly and quietly as possible, without destroying either structure. I would also like prisoners, especially high value targets¡ªofficers, radio operators, and the like, but don¡¯t put yourselves in danger to take them. Third company will secure the armored vehicles¡ªwe don¡¯t want some overachiever trying to get into a tank and blow us all up. Second company will secure the perimeter and then work their way in from the outside. First company will descend directly into the center of the villa and sweep and clear in teams¡ªyou all know your roles by now.¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am!¡± my men answered back, and I grinned. ¡°Good. We¡¯ll begin the operation at 0100. Try to get some sleep before then. Dismissed.¡± I waited for them to leave before heading to the temporary quarters I was sharing with Visha, where I piled into bed to take my own advice. Visha entered a moment later and turned out the light, before flopping down on her own bed. She was out in minutes, somehow.
The wind whipped at my hair as I looked down at the enemy garrison. There were a few lights still shining¡ªexterior lights on the entrances and the guard stations, and a fire burned down almost to coals in the center of the garrison villa. My combined night vision and sniping formula allowed me to see the guards moving about and I was disappointed, but not surprised. Sloppy. As expected of commies, but still. Take some pride in your work! Shaking my head in disgust, I checked the mission timer. We were at just over an hour on the clock. Keying up, I ordered, ¡°Ground team, report.¡± ¡°Moving into position now, colonel. ETA five minutes,¡± Grantz reported. ¡°Understood.¡± Shutting off the broadcast, I ordered, ¡°Final ready check!¡± I checked my submachine gun and backup magazines, made sure a round was chambered, and made sure my grenades were ready just in case. Unfortunately, this was not the very nice SMG I had confiscated from an enemy soldier, a few years ago. It worked just fine however, so I had no complaints. Around me, the others did likewise and quiet calls of ¡°Ready!¡± sounded off. Seven minutes later, Grantz called back. ¡°In position, colonel. Awaiting orders.¡± ¡°Wait thirty seconds, then go. 203rd, on me!¡± With that, I began a rapid descent, the others quickly moving into their assault positions. Wind whipped at my flight uniform and hair and I grinned as my heart pounded at the excitement. At some point, I had become as much of a battle maniac as my men, it seemed. Fifty feet above the ground, we flipped around feet down and hit the brakes, everyone breaking off to their jobs. Visha and I came down inside the center courtyard along with the rest of the first company, weapons up and sweeping the interior for enemies. Finding none, we hit the ground and made our way to the doors leading in. Visha stacked up on the other side of the door and I held up a hand, counting down from three, before throwing the door open and diving for the floor, spooling up a flight formula as I launched myself down the hall, going low while Visha followed, going high¡ªthe two of us a well-oiled machine working in perfect synchronicity as we found the first door, touched down, stacked up again, and cleared it. First contact came not from us, but from deeper in the facility as someone opened fire. A moment later, shouts sounded as the garrison woke up, a hornet¡¯s nest kicked over. I ignored it¡ªVisha and I were hunting big game, dealing with the rest of the garrison was what my men were for. We stacked up on another door and Visha tried to open it, only to find it locked. She signaled me and I nodded. Another three count and she put her foot in the door, going high as I dove in after her. I counted two men on the right, armed with rifles pointed at the door. ¡°Contact!¡± Gunfire sounded and splashed off our shields. Visha¡¯s SMG answered with two quick bursts to the left as I opened up on the other two. ¡°Clear!¡± the blonde announced a moment later, and I echoed her. We moved on, deeper into the facility and up a set of stairs. ¡°This looks much more promising,¡± I murmured as the hallways and floor changed. Where before, they were plain and utilitarian, these were decorated lavishly with thick red carpet, paintings, and statues¡ªespecially towards the end of the hall. Typical of communists, really. The wealth finds its way to the top, where the corruption is greatest¡ªfood, money, and luxuries going to those in power while the troops got bread and beet soup if they were lucky. We cleared several rooms empty of men¡ªoffices, a large conference room, and other rooms I didn¡¯t bother cataloging¡ªbefore coming to the end of the hall. We breached the door to find a fat, naked man with a machine gun and huddled behind a desk on the left, and two naked local girls cowering behind the bed on the right. The MG opened up and I dove, zipping across the floor as he singled out Visha. That was his mistake, as I tackled the man in the chest with enough force to crack ribs and launch us both into the wall behind him, and knocked the big gun to the floor. Pulling back my SMG, I butt stroked him in the jaw and face¡ªthree quick slams of the butt of my gun to disorient him before using my superior strength to get him on the ground and hogtie him. ¡°Prisoner secure!¡± ¡°These are civilians, colonel,¡± Visha called. ¡°Alright, we¡¯ll escort them outside in a moment.¡± Listening for a moment, I didn¡¯t hear anymore gunfire. Keying up, I called, ¡°All companies, report.¡± ¡°First company, building secure. Tending to wounded prisoners. No casualties on our end.¡± ¡°Second company, objective complete. Perimeter secure. No casualties.¡± ¡°Third company, targets secure. No casualties.¡± ¡°Fourth company, objective secure. We¡¯ve got prisoners and we¡¯re fine here.¡± I took a moment to breathe a sigh of relief as Visha laughed quietly nearby. ¡°Alright. Fourth company, leave a platoon of aerial mages and our ground forces there to hold the fortress and bring your prisoners down here. Have someone take stock of what they¡¯ve got up there¡ªweapons, ammunition, water, food, equipment. Send the marines to get the boat and then wait. We may need them to run some supplies back from the city. First company, find somewhere to secure those prisoners and begin preliminary interrogation. Third company, sweep the garrison, begin cleanup and cataloging of equipment and supplies. Company leaders, report upstairs in the garrison to the briefing room in an hour.¡± I received a series of confirmations before turning to Visha. ¡°Alright, get them out of here. Put them somewhere secure, but they aren¡¯t to leave until we¡¯ve had a chance to question them. Politely. I suspect they¡¯re just prostitutes, but they may know something.¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± Visha nodded, before directing the girls to get dressed. I waited and half paid attention to them as I watched my prisoner. After a few moments, Visha frowned as they finished pulling on their clothes. ¡°There are three dresses. Is someone else here¡­?¡± ¡°No, miss!¡± one of the girls shook her head. Curious, Visha picked up the dress and held it open. She snorted. ¡°Colonel,¡± she called, sounding one part amused, one part disgusted. I looked over, to see her holding a dress that would easily fit all four girls in the room with room to spare. My mind filled in the rest of the blanks and I shuddered. Glaring at Visha for showing me that horror, who giggled in response, I jerked my finger at the door. Visha gently led the two girls from the room, after allowing them to collect the rest of their things. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. I grabbed the chair that went with the desk and pulled it in front of the fat man, before kicking him in the side to roll him over. I pulled a face as the man¡¯s cock flopped around and took a moment to gather his dress and throw it over his nakedness. Sitting down on the chair and pointing my SMG at his face, I stared down at him. ¡°Let us begin the interrogation. We¡¯ll start with the basics. I am Col. Tanya von Degurechaff, leader of,¡± I paused briefly on our name, realizing I couldn¡¯t tell him who we actually were. That from the moment we left, we were no longer the Salamander Kampfgruppe and the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion. ¡°¡­this private military force. What is your name, rank, and the purpose of your men for being here?¡± The man on the ground spat at me, only for it to hit my shield and roll down it, making his eyes go wide. ¡°I¡¯m not telling you anything, mage! Swine! Filth! We put your kind in the gulag for a reason! No one man should wield power over his fellow man as you do!¡± ¡°Is that so? That is a shame. I had hoped to speak like two sane, rational, civil human beings, but I suppose expecting sanity, rationality, or especially civility from a communist zealot is asking too much.¡± Pausing, I corrected myself. ¡°Ah, sorry, ¡®communist zealot¡¯ is redundant. That¡¯s fine, though,¡± I murmured, giving him my most innocent smile. For some reason, he paled and began to shake. Reaching for my belt, I drew my combat knife. I leaned into the Imperial accent as I informed him, ¡°We have ways of making you talk¡­¡± He eyed the blade for just a moment before his mouth opened and he began to squeal like the communist pig he was. ¡°I-igor! Igor Zelenskii! I, I am no one! Just a mid-level bureaucrat, a zampolit¡ªa, how you say, political officer! Sent from Moskva to help manage things in the north of Brasa!¡± ¡°You mean to take Bellum.¡± ¡°¡­Da.¡±
¡°¡­And that¡¯s where we stand on supplies from this raid,¡± Lt. Koenig reported. I nodded from where I sat at the head of the table, a grin on my face. Fuel, ammunition, weapons, vehicles, comms equipment, food, and most importantly: money. Ninety thousand reals. After conversion, that¡¯s about eighteen thousand Imperial marks, give or take. Here, it¡¯s enough to keep us going for a few months. I couldn¡¯t be happier with the results of this raid. There was just one problem¡­ It¡¯s too much. Far too much for a little outpost. It looks like they really are planning something larger soon. Especially with those artillery pieces. We¡¯ll have to act first, then. Do what we do best. Attack, destroy the enemy then move on to the next objective before they expect us to. I¡¯ll need to organize recon flights for every commie stronghold in the area and take them out before they get word of what¡¯s happened here. ¡°That¡¯s excellent news. We¡¯ll conduct thorough prisoner interrogations over the next week and gather all the actionable intel we can. Do any of the prisoners stand out after the initial questioning?¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± Weiss nodded. ¡°A radio operator, a translator, and a mechanic and maintenance crew.¡± ¡°Nice, nice,¡± I hummed. ¡°Did they seem like the usual commies, or¡­?¡± ¡°They¡¯re all locals and didn¡¯t seem like die hard communists.¡± ¡°Good. Question them a bit more, then offer them jobs. Out of curiosity, what languages did the translator speak?¡± ¡°Ispagna, Quechua, Guarani, Aymara, and Russy.¡± ¡°Why would they need to speak Russy?¡± Grantz wondered aloud. Weiss had an answer for that. ¡°He said they were using it as a simple cipher so the locals didn¡¯t understand what they were talking about if they were listening to their communications and so that they could communicate with the leaders in Sao Paolo for comrade Zelenskii.¡± ¡°Alright then. We¡¯ll need to start planning for more operations against the communists to clear the surrounding areas. I want a comms network set up immediately between the garrison, fort, governor¡¯s villa, and the Ingrid. Get that sorted, make sure the prisoners are secured and set a watch, then get some sleep everyone. Tomorrow, we¡¯ll start digging in. Procure local supplies and workers and begin renovation of the garrison. I want our people moved out of the governor¡¯s villa as soon as possible. We¡¯ll split the ground forces between the garrison and the fortress and leave them here to supervise the work for now. Dismissed.¡± We left the room and Visha and I flew back to the governor¡¯s villa for the night. After a quick shower, I went to bed to try to preserve my sleep schedule. Only a few hours later, Visha woke me up with coffee and breakfast, and the local newspaper. After the usual checks, I sat down at the desk in the corner and dug in. ¡°Inform the governor that I¡¯d like to meet with him to go over last night¡¯s raid, captain.¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am. I¡¯ve already laid out your clothes for the day. I went with the summer uniform. Can I get you anything else before I go?¡± ¡°No, that¡¯s it. Thank you, Visha.¡± ¡°Of course,¡± she sent me a smile, before heading out. I took my time eating my breakfast, enjoying my coffee, and reading the local paper to get a feel for things. It didn¡¯t take long at all to suss out that the newspaper was just as corrupt as everything else. Also, apparently a commie mouthpiece, given that it was extolling the virtues of communism. Going to have to go have a ¡®chat¡¯ with whoever runs this rag. I finished eating and cleaned up, then got dressed. Visha returned just in time to collect my dishes and run them off, and I thanked her for breakfast before making my way to the governor¡¯s office. Heading inside, I found him looking over a printed report of some kind. ¡°Ah, Col. Degurechaff, good morning,¡± he greeted with a smile. ¡°You as well, governor Vasquez.¡± I sat down and crossed one leg over my knee. ¡°Problem?¡± He sighed. ¡°Communique from a friend in Rio de Janeiro. The state military have evacuated and the communists have taken the capital. He is requesting aid to take back the capital but I cannot do anything from here.¡± I clicked my tongue. ¡°Not good.¡± ¡°No. It is an unfortunate state of affairs.¡± Folding the communique, he placed it on the desk. ¡°So tell me, how did your operation go last night?¡± ¡°Very well indeed. We claimed the island with no casualties on our side, minimal loss of life on the part of the enemy, and no destruction to either stronghold. We¡¯re interrogating the prisoners now and will begin renovations to make them both livable today. Hopefully, we¡¯ll have our people out of your hair by the end of the month.¡± ¡°Your people are no bother,¡± he shook his head. ¡°How much do I owe you for this action?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll work up an invoice later today.¡± I would have to ask Visha where my typewriter got off to, but I would get it done. ¡°I have some concerns, however.¡± ¡°Yes?¡± he asked, sitting up a bit straighter. ¡°Some observations, really,¡± I admitted. ¡°The island was well-equipped. Very well-equipped. Too much so, for what it is. They had a fair deal of artillery on hand as well. Enough to level every important target in the city in a matter of minutes. This alone would lead me to believe that they were planning something big. Some kind of action to take the city. However, we captured a little Russy pig who squealed for me the moment he suspected things weren¡¯t going his way, who confirmed it. He was sent from the south to capture Bellum, because it¡¯s the northernmost port for Brasa.¡± Vasquez frowned for a moment before nodding. ¡°Yes, I can see why they would. If they hold enough ports and enough roads, then they can strangle the rest of the country into giving them what they want. Cut off trade until the president capitulates.¡± ¡°At which point, he¡¯ll make some speech about how he¡¯s sorry it¡¯s come to this and how Brasa needs to move forward under the new communist regime, before sailing into the sunset to be anywhere but here if he has any sense.¡± ¡°Unfortunately, as you know, my hands are tied, officially.¡± Meeting my eyes, the older man leaned back in his chair and grinned. ¡°It would be such a shame if something unfortunate were to happen to our communist comrades.¡± ¡°Yes. A shame,¡± I leered. Projecting an illusion of the latest map we had over the table, updated with the information I had gotten from comrade Zelenskii and the paperwork in his quarters and office. ¡°As it turns out, our Russy piggy managed to get out something useful, between his squealing and begging for his life. An idea of the number of troops in Sao Domingos and their equipment. Also confirmation that they¡¯re working with the cartel in Santa Maria and planning to pincer Bellum some time next month. Locations for towns they¡¯re using as staging areas closer to Bellum for some of their equipment.¡± Glaring at the map, Vasquez said, ¡°Whatever the cost. I want every one of those camps taken out. Every village they¡¯re using liberated. Retake Sao Domingos from these fucking communist swine.¡± ¡°Even if we take out Sao Domingos, it¡¯s not going to matter much if they still have Santa Maria. Attacking the commies, the ¡®revolutionaries,¡¯ we¡¯re fighting their proxies¡ªassuming they still believe that they¡¯re in charge and haven¡¯t realized that the Russy Federation is the one really pulling the strings. The moment we take Santa Maria, we¡¯ll have declared war on Familia del Verde. They¡¯re going to strike back, and they¡¯ll use their government assets to do it. The police are going to be against us. It may escalate. And while you might tell your men to stand down, your president could send reinforcements.¡± ¡°Then I¡¯ll need you to handle Senor Igual. However you see fit.¡± ¡°I do love those words,¡± I murmured. ¡°While you¡¯re at it, if there¡¯s anything you can do about those damned Carniceros, I¡¯ll be happy to pay. Say¡­ a bounty on their heads. A reward for every one your men kill. If you can find and shut down their human trafficking operations and recover the people who were kidnapped, we would be grateful.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll let the men know and we¡¯ll start hunting. I¡¯m going to need to start recruiting troops soon, though.¡± A thoughtful look came over the governor¡¯s face, before it morphed into a sly smile. ¡°I happen to know some men who would love a chance to actually do something about the problems plaguing this country. I¡¯ll ask them how they feel about joining up with someone willing to get their hands dirty. Give me a few days and I¡¯ll let you know how it goes.¡± ¡°Very well, governor. In that case, I think that¡¯s everything on my end. If that¡¯s all, I need to talk to my men and go pay some people a visit.¡± We said our goodbyes and I left, keying up on the magical shortwave. ¡°Weiss, gather the first company. Meet me at the dock.¡± ¡°Roger that.¡±
¡°Captain Fischer sends his regards,¡± the tall, blonde form of Cmdr. Fuchs greeted me as I landed outside the Ingrid¡¯s berth. ¡°Any word on getting a job for the Ingrid?¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am. There¡¯s a group of ships bound for the Caribbean leaving in two days. San Juan, Santo Domingo, Kingston, Havana, Miami, and New Orleans.¡± ¡°Two days? How long is the trip expected to take?¡± ¡°Two months, round trip.¡± I winced. If I was doing my math right, that was over four thousand miles. ¡°We need a plane.¡± ¡°So procure one. I¡¯m sure you can find one locally. If not, then you could get one from the US.¡± Considering it for a moment, I nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll give it some thought. I¡¯d like to check in back home. Maybe ship something if possible¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯ll ask around and see what I can learn, before we have to go.¡± I needed some way to get in touch with Ugar. To find out what was going on back in Germany and perhaps arrange for the families of my men to be sent over by passenger liners¡ªthat way, we wouldn¡¯t have to make the trip ourselves. It would save weeks worth of travel if they could, and it would be a huge morale boost for the men. Also¡­ if Ugar could discretely send more volunteers over, especially aerial mages, that would bolster our numbers and allow us to do more. But I would happily take competent people of any branch. A few moments later, Weiss and the first company radioed their approach. I bid Cmdr. Fuchs good day and lifted off, meeting the others and heading towards the mayor¡¯s office. ¡°What¡¯s the objective, colonel?¡± ¡°We¡¯re going to go have a polite conversation with the mayor. If he cooperates, we¡¯re going to let him keep running the show. If not, then we¡¯ll take him into custody and hand things over to the next in line, and the next, and the next until someone does what we tell them or we have to hand it over to the governor.¡± We touched down outside the mayor¡¯s office and made our way in. Everyone between us and the stairs took one look at our group of heavily armed soldiers and found they had somewhere else to be. Following the signs, we made our way up to the office we needed to go to and Weiss got the door for me. Stepping into the office, I frowned at what we found there. ¡°Who the fuck are you?¡± Tony Montana, I mean Juan Igual demanded from the other side of his desk. Below the desk, I spotted a pair of hose-clad feet that, given the way they were turned, couldn¡¯t possibly belong to senor Igual unless his legs were broken and twisted completely around. On top of the desk was a paper wrapped block the size of a brick, and the esteemed mayor¡¯s nose was covered with a white, powdery residue. Yes, he met my expectations almost to a ¡®T.¡¯ The only thing missing was¡ª Senor Igual reached into a drawer at the side of his desk and stood up with a submachine gun in his hands, which he leveled at us. And, to her credit, the prostitute or secretary working on his knob kept herself on task as she rose with him. ¡°AHH!¡± With a yell, the mayor opened fire on us. He might as well be throwing spitballs for all that thing is going to do, I mused as we let him blow his load to no effect as his rounds splashed off our shields, some of them ricocheting around the room. Without mana evening the scales, it would take a lot more firepower than he had available to take down even a mediocre, barely trained aerial mage¡ªand unfortunately for him, my men were the best of the best. When the weapon clicked dry, I reached up and wiggled a finger in my ringing ear. ¡°If you¡¯re quite done?¡± The mayor looked down at his gun, then back up to us. With a disgusted sigh, he dropped the gun, grabbed the woman¡¯s head, and flopped back into his seat. ¡°What the fuck do you want?¡± ¡°We¡¯re here to inform you of the impending regime change. You can work for us now¡­ or you can share the same punishment as the communists and cartels you work for. Which is to say, you will be lined up against a wall with the rest and shot, then thrown in mass grave. Your second in command will either work with us or face the same fate, and so on and so forth, until we find someone who will cooperate. So your choices are simple. You can choose to continue to sit here and snort cocaine and get afternoon blowjobs from prostitutes, while ignoring all orders from your previous masters. Alternately, you can choose to transfer to another field and enter into an exciting new career as fertilizer. Make your choice now.¡± ¡°You know, senorita¡­ Having you give me orders with that tone, with that look of disgust on your angelic face¡­ It excites me!¡± My eye twitched. I was halfway across the room with my sidearm drawn before the others could react. Yanking the man out of his cushy leather chair and knocking the girl aside, I shoved him face first down onto the desk and buried the muzzle of my Luger in his ear. ¡°I like to consider myself a reasonable, even-tempered person, senor Igual. But I will not stand for that sort of disrespect. Now, make your choice or I will make it for you.¡± ¡°Alright! Alright! Fine! Whatever you say, senora!¡± Frowning, I looked down to the woman on the ground. ¡°And you? Who are you?¡± ¡°His secretary,¡± she answered quietly, flexing her jaw as she glared at the man. ¡°His married secretary, but today, he tells me that if I don¡¯t service him, the police will arrest my Miguel! You shouldn¡¯t believe a word he says. He will just call the Familia as soon as you leave, and then they will send lots of men from Santa Maria!¡± ¡°Shut your mouth, whore! I¡ªah!¡± Igual yelped as I pulled the Luger back and smacked him above the ear with the butt. ¡°Who can run this circus of a city effectively, miss¡­?¡± ¡°Maria Cortes. And I can. I already do, really. You think this cocaine-addled idiot gets anything done? No!¡± She spat on his leg and pulled herself up from the ground. ¡°He and his deputy mayor are both useless.¡± ¡°And how would you go about fixing the police? They¡¯re completely corrupt.¡± Maria rolled her eyes. ¡°They are all hired gangsters. Thugs. I will speak with the old chief of police and have him gather up the old police force. If you would be willing to help, then they could take back the city from the corrupt police.¡± I looked to Weiss, who nodded. ¡°I like her,¡± I grinned. ¡°What? No! You can¡¯t! We had a deal!¡± Igual yelled. I jerked him to his feet and buried the pistol in his back, before turning him towards the men and shoving him forward. Two of my men caught him by the arms, while a third grabbed his pants from around his ankles and jerked them up. ¡°Lock him up with the others.¡± Turning back to Maria, I grinned. ¡°Now, let¡¯s talk business¡­¡± 05 A Young Girl¡¯s Outer Heaven 05
Commissioned by Sneakydevil.
¡°I don¡¯t like it.¡± ¡°It needs to happen.¡± ¡°The men don¡¯t like it.¡± I sent a look up at Visha. My blonde subordinate was out of uniform, and instead wore a light sun dress, a large straw hat, her Type 97 on a chain around her throat, and carried a handbag that contained her sidearm. ¡°You mean the ones above us, tracking our magical signatures?¡± ¡°It¡¯s risky, ma¡¯am,¡± Grantz murmured from where he was tucked against Visha¡¯s side. The other captain wore a beige suit and fedora that left him cutting a handsome figure that drew the eyes of the native girls, many of whom were sending Visha jealous looks. I could just barely spot the bulge of his own sidearm worn on a holster under his arm, and I knew he¡¯d have his computation orb on him somewhere. ¡°No risk, no reward,¡± I reminded them, before turning my attention back to the modified sniping formula I was using to scan the crowd. I was still getting used to it, but¡­ having a perfect sphere of vision that I could zoom in on within a multiple mile range was surprisingly easier to adjust to than I had thought it would be. More proof I¡¯m not entirely human anymore, I mused idly as I spotted multiple potential candidates for the mission watching us. I was my own computation orb, and my processing ability didn¡¯t seem to be limited by things like four synchronous cores and mechanical processing, or even a squishy human meat-brain. No, I seemed to be doing my thinking with my mana and the shell of solidified mana that made up my body was just a container. Even the little bit of meat my body was starting to grow thanks to consuming food to replace my squishy bits was still just¡­ superfluous, it seemed. ¡°We have several to choose from, it seems,¡± I eventually said. ¡°This is where we¡¯ll do it. Go into that store over there and I¡¯ll head over to buy some food and make myself vulnerable.¡± The pair shared a look and I narrowed my eyes, before focusing on my mana. With a thought, I sent a shortwave transmission without ever moving my mouth. It was mostly to prove a point¡ªnamely, that there was no way to disarm me anymore. Nor could my radio be removed. I would be in constant contact with the others and I could blast my way out any time I wanted. ¡°That¡¯s an order, you two.¡± Visha and Grantz nodded. Grantz reached into his pocket and pulled out a fairly large stack of reals¡ªthe sort of money a rich father might hand his daughter to get rid of her for a while, so he could take care of some things with his wife. Accepting the money with a happy smile, I slipped it into the pocket of my shorts and took off at a jog through the crowd as Grantz and Visha walked into a boutique clothing store. Yes, even I was out of uniform today. I had picked out my outfit myself, thankfully, so I wouldn¡¯t be forced into a dress by Visha¡ªwhose eyes had lit up at the idea of getting to play dress-up with me again, only for her to pout for hours after I broke the news to her. I might have taken a bit of sadistic joy in doing so¡­ But she deserved it for trying to stuff me in a dress! Instead, I wore a set of comfortable hiking boots, shorts, a light white button-down shirt, and a khaki patrol cap. I may have modified the shorts, cutting them off to an indecently short length that showed off entirely too much of my thighs. And the shirt was tied off at the bottom and left part of my stomach exposed, while the top buttons were undone enough to see the top of the curve of my small breasts. The long, blonde ponytail fed through the back of my cap flew behind me like a flag as the wind caught it, drawing the eye to me and from there to everything else. Nothing I wore would have been out of place in the modern world I had come from in my first life. Even here, the local girls sometimes wore less. But the fact was, I wasn¡¯t a local. Tanya¡¯s looks¡ªmy looks were something I had taken pride in for a while. It was one of the most useful tools in my arsenal. First, when I looked like an adorable cherub. Now that I had begun to fill out, well¡­ Long expanse of pale, toned, bare legs. A flash of a toned, pale belly and back. The curve of a muscular little ass. Just a hint of cleavage starting to develop. A beautiful young white naive foreign rich girl, all alone and vulnerable now that she was out from under the safety of her parents¡¯ gazes. I looked like jail bait. Or just plain bait. Which is what I was going for. Irresistible, delicious bait for this fishing expedition. I almost didn¡¯t make it to the food stall selling tacos before three different people made their move from different angles¡ªone from behind, one from my right, and one from ahead. Pulling out my money, I hummed as I considered what was on offer. ¡°One of those please, senor,¡± I told the man running the stall in Ispagna with a big, bright smile. ¡°A drink too, senorita?¡± ¡°Please!¡± I agreed, and a moment later, he popped the top on a bottled soda and handed it and my taco over. ¡°Thank you.¡± I moved away and began eating, enjoying my lunch as I waited, seemingly looking around at the other local stores. Just to make things easier, I moved towards one of the smaller side streets leading off into the warren that was the favela¡ªwhere the poorest in this city lived. A shantytown that looked like it would fall apart in a stiff breeze, or catch fire with a single spark. I wasn¡¯t even halfway into enjoying my taco when someone grabbed me from behind, covered my mouth, lifted me bodily, and then ran into the alley, ducking between buildings as the other two ran along with him. Just to put on a show, I screamed into the filthy, stinking hand over my mouth and bit down, thrashing and struggling to get free. The man carrying me stopped and set me on my feet just long enough to slam a fist into my gut¡ªfive quick blows, one after another, that left me physically doubled over and would have disabled even a grown man. ¡°Shut up, you dumb little bitch, or there¡¯s more where that came from!¡± the man growled, then resumed his run. That¡­ didn¡¯t hurt at all, I mused, studying the sensation. Oh, I certainly felt the pressure and the force of the blow, and it had been enough to knock the air out of my lungs. But¡­ most of my body didn¡¯t need air so that wasn¡¯t an inconvenience. Likewise, it hadn¡¯t triggered any sort of pain response in my nerves¡ªlikely because those nerves were still made almost entirely of mana and were only pretending to be nerves, because it was convenient to me and how I remembered my body before my attempted suicide bombing. ¡°Status report.¡± ¡°We¡¯re following from above, colonel. Visha and Grantz have already rejoined us,¡± Weiss reported in. ¡°Good. Maintain your distance. Let¡¯s see where they lead us.¡± ¡°Roger that.¡± After a run with many turns, my erstwhile kidnapper threw me into the cab of a truck. I grabbed for the door, only to find a gun shoved in my face. ¡°You move, you die, senorita.¡± ¡°Al-alright,¡± I allowed my voice to waver, holding up my hands in the universal ¡®I surrender¡¯ gesture. He quickly started the truck and I felt it shake as the other two men climbed into the back before slapping the side twice, someone calling, ¡°Go! Go!¡± And then we were zipping through the twisting, turning streets in a ride that bounced me about the seat as we went. After several minutes of this, we exited out of the city from the eastern side, heading east into the thick trees along a little dirt track. After about half an hour of driving and turning off on several smaller roads, the trees opened up to a farm and we pulled to a stop in front of a farm house. I was jerked out of the truck and dragged inside as the other two men followed. As soon as the door was closed, one of them began unzipping his fly. ¡°Hurry up, I want to sample the goods before we ship her off!¡± ¡°And where would you be shipping me off to?¡± I asked, only for the one holding my arm to pull back his other fist and punch me in the nose. There was a crack of bone¡­ and then he howled as he pulled his fist back. ¡°Mm, that¡¯s about enough of that.¡± Grabbing his hand, I broke the hold he had on me and jerked him down to the ground, jerking his arm up behind his back and stepping on his neck. One of the men, the one who hadn¡¯t been fishing his dick out, had the presence of mind to pull his pistol on me. ¡°Let him go! I¡¯ll fucking kill you!¡± Instead, I gave the go order. ¡°First company, move in! Second and third company, commence operations!¡± The front and back doors blew open and, a moment later, the one with the gun found himself crashing to the ground under the force of Weiss¡¯ magically empowered fist. The other members of the company spread out, making to secure the farm. Weiss and a couple of other men tied up our prisoners and dragged them outside. ¡°Colonel, we¡¯ve got prisoners down here.¡± ¡°Take them out front, load them into the truck and take them back to town, to a hospital,¡± I ordered as I followed Weiss with our prisoners, moving out to the back of the house. After a moment, they had the three amigos lined up on their knees, my men standing guard behind them with rifles. ¡°Alright, senors. Let¡¯s play a game~!¡± I held out my hand to Weiss and he handed me his sidearm. Checking to make sure it was armed, I pointed the weapon at the one that had his pants down and shot him in the thigh. Luckily for him, my aim was impeccable and it was just a graze, but I was trying to set a tone here. ¡°AHH!¡± ¡°You¡¯re going to tell me everything you know about where the Carniceros are taking the people that have been kidnapped. Where they¡¯re being held. Who is in charge. Whoever tells me everything I want to know gets to outlive your friends.¡± From there, the interrogation proceeded as most tended to. The difference here being that we didn¡¯t have to observe the Imperial RoE for dealing with prisoners. That is, legally speaking, we had a green light to execute all prisoners captured, if they were determined to be either communists or members of the Carniceros gang. By the end of the interrogation, we had rough positions for Carniceros ¡®ranches¡¯ like this one, where they took their kidnap victims, along with the name and likely location of the next person up the chain. Once I was sure we had everything we were going to get from them, I put a bullet in each of them myself, after we made them march into the edge of the forest for the animals to find. True to my word, I executed the one who had given us the most last. ¡°Weiss,¡± I called, and my second in command came to attention. ¡°Get this place cleaned up and kitted out as a fallback position and supply depot. Ammo, non-perishables, weapons. See if you can scrounge up some radio kit and an antennae, and a generator.¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± he nodded and began assigning people to the task. After a moment, he came back and asked, ¡°What next?¡± ¡°I want to move on the other locations now, before word spreads. Hit them hard and fast, take prisoners, interrogate them, and move on to the next. We shouldn¡¯t need more than¡­ three teams. Split up the company. A group here to set up, then three other groups of four. You¡¯ll lead one, I¡¯ll lead the other, and whoever you see fit to lead the last. We aren¡¯t going to stop until we¡¯ve got their leadership, or we¡¯ve run out of information.¡± This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°Understood. I¡¯ll leave squad four here.¡± Nodding, I added, ¡°And Weiss? Remember. These are kidnappers, slavers, and rapists. They aren¡¯t men. They aren¡¯t even dogs. When you¡¯ve got everything you can get from them, put them down. No survivors. Keep a record of the ones we¡¯ve killed. We¡¯ll turn it in to the governor for bonus pay.¡± A thought occurred and I glared up at the man. ¡°And if you find the leader before me and don¡¯t call me, so help me¡­¡± Weiss grinned. ¡°We¡¯ll see who gets there first.¡± ¡°I will PT you until doomsday,¡± I growled, earning a chuckle. ¡°Get to it.¡±
I sighed as I dropped my bags on the floor, then flopped on top of the massive bed, with its sinfully slick silk sheets. A fortnight. Two weeks. That was how long it took, once we had boots on the ground, to get to where we were now. In that time, so much had happened. We had made contact and established friendly ties and a long-term contract with a local, well-funded politician. We took an island for ourselves, along with the spoils of equipment, funds, and materials from the commies and even managed to recruit a few new people to our side. We had ousted a corrupt local mayor and police force and installed someone willing to do the job properly, and reinstated a competent police force that were even now cracking down hard on the crime that had infected Bellum. We had all but gutted a local human trafficking ring, freed the people they kidnapped, forced them to turn over the identities of their buyers and were in the process of tracking them down to recover yet more people, and seized their assets and holdings¡ªwhich had immediately gone into funding our group while the buildings and lands were earmarked to be turned into safe-houses, resupply depots, and fallback positions. And we had gotten local contractors to refit the garrison to house our people and men, and were already working on building them a village on the island. Today, we had moved out of the governor¡¯s villa and into the garrison. All of us, military and civilians. I was looking forward to having private quarters again, where I didn¡¯t have to share space with anyone. On the other hand¡­ Visha made for a comfortable body pillow, on those occasions we¡¯d shared a bed for either body heat or comfort, during those hellish nights on various fronts. Shaking the thought from my head, I forced myself to get up and start unpacking. I was given the communist piggy Zelenskii¡¯s old room. I thought it was a bit excessive in terms of size and luxury, but¡­ I wasn¡¯t going to turn it down. Especially when Visha assured me that they had cleared out all of his personal effects, changed out the mattress and bedding, and sterilized the room. It even had an amazing view of the river from the doors leading out onto the balcony, which provided a cool breeze helped along by the ceiling fan. Eventually, I finished up unpacking and looked around the room. Thinking back over my schedule, I realized that I didn¡¯t have anything else to do today. For a change, there was a lull in the mad rush to get things taken care of and set up. I had, dare I think it, free time. With that in mind, I hummed and considered things, before grinning. I changed out of my uniform into civilian clothes¡ªpretty much identical to my ¡®kidnapper bait¡¯ outfit, save that the shorts and shirt actually covered more skin. Keying up on the local shortwave, I announced, ¡°I¡¯m taking the rest of the afternoon off and heading into town. Those of you not scheduled for duty later, consider yourselves dismissed as soon as you finish your duties for the day. Weiss, arrange things so that everyone not on duty has a day off tomorrow, and those that have duty tomorrow have the next day off. Out.¡± Then, I stepped out onto the balcony and took off, flying over the river and back into town. I got a few weird looks when I set down on the main street, but it wasn¡¯t like aerial mages were unheard of¡ªjust ones my age. And to my knowledge, the Brasa military didn¡¯t have any¡ªat least, according to governor Vasquez. After a bit of looking around, I made my way into a small shop selling clothes¡ªthe same one where we had gotten my disguise and the rest of my civilian attire for use here. After a bit of perusing, I found what I was looking for. Swimsuits were a thing, but the styles were almost all one-piece. So, I improvised, with some light silk stuff I had seen some of the women here wearing as their daily wear¡ªbasically a tube top and a sarong. Some sandals, a wide straw hat, and sunglasses rounded things out. My second stop was to buy some drinks, a bunch of purple berries, some lemons, ice, a pitcher, and a glass. Finally, I found an umbrella, some towels, and a hammock. Then, it was back to our private beach where I found a secluded spot to set up for a day on the beach. I used a mana blade to peel the skin and core from the berries, something called a jabutacaba, and dropped the pulp and juice into the pitcher with a bunch of ice and left it to sit for a while¡ªthough licking the juice off my fingers, I found it tasted like some combination of blueberry and grape, so pretty good. I¡¯d have to try something else later. I set up the hammock and umbrella and gathered a bunch of driftwood and some fallen limbs from the forest for later, then changed into my improvised swimsuit. Then, it was time to dive! Using magic really is cheating, I mused to myself as I used a flight formula underwater, pushing myself along as I brought up my modified sniping formula to spot fish. Unfortunately, I discovered a problem with that strategy almost immediately, as my improvised swimsuit was yanked off by the speed of my movement. With an annoyed curse, I gathered it up and hung it up to dry for me to change back into later, before heading back into the water. Finding a particularly tasty looking yellow and black fish, I zipped in and speared it, before heading back for the surface to deposit it on the beach. I did this three more times before I was satisfied, then spent some time collecting some crabs and large shrimp. Once I had what I wanted, I made my way back to the beach and dragged my catch to the edge of the forest, where I dug a hole for the fish leftovers. I cleaned everything and set it aside, before making a fire pit and starting a fire. Some sticks cut down from the trees gave me skewers for the food and I set those up to cook. While I fondly remembered Japanese food, most especially sushi and sashimi¡­ this was Brasa. I didn¡¯t want to risk getting parasites, even if I was pretty sure they couldn¡¯t actually harm the interior of my mostly mana body. I poured myself a glass of juice and laid out in my hammock, sipping at the cold drink and enjoying the peace and quiet as I closed my eyes and smiled contentedly. Peace and quiet which was broken a few moments later as I heard a rowdy whoop and a splash. Cracking open my eye, I glared at the intrusion upon my quiet afternoon. The source of the noise was none other than my own men. Grantz broke the surface and yelled to the others, ¡°The water¡¯s amazing!¡± ¡°Alright, we¡¯ll set up here,¡± Weiss began directing the others to put out their own supplies. They looked a little well-prepared for people who had only just been told they had the afternoon off. In fact, I was pretty sure they had planned it. It was Visha who finally spotted me. She wore an outfit similar to my own, a red and green floral pattern to hers as opposed to my white and orange. For a moment, she looked confused, wearing an expression on her beautiful face that screamed, ¡®Does Not Compute.¡¯ I¡¯ll admit that I might have taken a few moments to study her curvy, athletic form from behind the safety of my sunglasses. ¡°Uh, guys?¡± she called after a moment, before pointing at me. ¡°The colonel is already here.¡± There was a collective flinch, before all eyes turned to me. After a moment, Weiss snapped to attention. ¡°Ma¡¯am! We apologize. We didn¡¯t know you were set up here¡ª¡± I waved him off, sitting up and rolling out of my hammock. Picking up my hat, I pulled it on as I made my way over. ¡°It¡¯s fine, major. The beach is big enough for all of us.¡± ¡°If you¡¯re sure, ma¡¯am? We can leave¡­¡± I glanced at Visha for a moment and hummed. I didn¡¯t want to leave, and I didn¡¯t want them to feel obligated to leave, or to stay, on my behalf. I also¡­ really wanted to enjoy the eye candy, now that Visha had shown up. Damn puberty, I sighed internally. I shouldn¡¯t be eyeing up my subordinate, but¡­ hrm. A grin pulled my lips up. ¡°I said it¡¯s fine. And drop the formalities, Weiss.¡± Making a show of looking down at myself, I asked, ¡°I don¡¯t see any rank insignia. Do you?¡± ¡°No, ma¡ª¡± He caught himself, looking flummoxed for a moment. ¡°Tanya,¡± I offered. ¡°It occurs to me that until such a time as we return home, we are all stuck with each other. So perhaps it would be best if we developed a rapport outside of work hours.¡± Weiss nodded. ¡°Very well.¡± Visha chose that moment to strike, wrapping me in a hug against the vast expanses of her creamy, pale flesh and very athletic, but still very feminine body. ¡°Tanya~! Let¡¯s go swimming!¡± ¡°Sure,¡± I agreed easily, and allowed myself to be dragged off. But not before calling back, ¡°Make sure the fish don¡¯t burn and we can share!¡± ¡°Will do,¡± Weiss answered, and the group quickly relaxed. We stayed out until the sun went down. By the time we made our way back up the beach to the garrison, I was pleasantly tired and full, my belly warm with something I was certain wasn¡¯t just fruit juice. In fact, I was pretty sure that someone had dipped into the company stash of liquor and brought out the good stuff we¡¯d brought back from Africa, and poured a few splashes into the iced juice I¡¯d made and shared with the others, which they had refilled after another trip into town for more supplies at some point. Either way, I was relaxed and happy as I showered off and collapsed into my bed, the open windows and fan providing a cool breeze that felt great on my hot skin, as I slept with the covers off. The next morning, I woke up feeling refreshed and, frankly, amazing as I stretched out in the bed and popped various joints in my back, neck, arms, legs, and even hips. ¡°Oof. I can¡¯t believe how much of a difference just an afternoon makes.¡± Sitting up, I frowned as I realized that Visha hadn¡¯t come by with my breakfast or to set out my clothes. Well, I was hardly one to begrudge my subordinates a day off, especially when I had ordered it the previous afternoon. So, I got up and got dressed in my civilian clothes again, intending to take the day myself and resume duty tomorrow. As I did, I noticed that I hadn¡¯t sunburned at all. You know, I mused as I slipped my sandals on, this provides a somewhat unique opportunity¡­ Whistling to myself, I made my way down to the kitchen. It had been a while since I¡¯d cooked, but I still remembered how. Knowing Visha¡¯s preferences, I whipped up some eggs (sunny side up and runny, yuck), bacon (burnt to a crisp, the heathen), and a couple of buttered rolls while putting together my own breakfast and starting the coffee brewing. After eating and downing my own coffee, I made my way up to Visha¡¯s quarters, coffee and breakfast in hand. Bumping the door open with my hip, I found my adjutant sleeping away soundly on her belly, covers thrown off and her back side exposed to the air¡ªnot that I blamed her, I¡¯d wound up much the same way last night. It was just too warm to be comfortable, otherwise. Visha¡¯s normally pale skin was pink all over from sunburn. Those are going to make for some interesting tan lines¡­ Mm, summer edition Visha. Setting the plate and coffee down on her desk, I considered how to wake her. Smacking the very inviting target she presented was oh so very tempting¡­ but a superior shouldn¡¯t sexually harass their subordinates. And with Visha, that could have very real, very dire consequences¡­ So I thought better of it. I wasn¡¯t this randy before I blew myself up, I grumbled internally, wondering if maybe rebuilding my body had changed something fundamental. Or it could just be that with a new body that isn¡¯t malnourished and stunted, my sex drive is waking up? It could be environmental as well. We¡¯re no longer in an active combat zone and I¡¯ve started to relax. Even if we¡¯ve seen combat, so far, our enemies haven¡¯t been anything like a match for us. It¡¯s like that time we rolled over Dacia. Less stress, new environment¡­ Shaking my head, I compartmentalized, putting those thoughts in a box to deal with later. Instead, I reached out and shook Visha¡¯s shoulder. The blonde snorted softly, before jerking, coming awake with an explosive formula on her lips as was habit when someone unexpected touched her while she was sleeping. She caught herself as she noticed me. ¡°Colonel?¡± She blinked, taking in my lack of uniform. ¡°Tanya?¡± ¡°I made breakfast,¡± I told her, gesturing at the table. ¡°Enjoy. I¡¯m going to go for a jog.¡± ¡°Uh¡­¡± she stared after me as I headed for the balcony windows. Finally, she came to her senses as I took off and called, ¡°Thank you!¡± Touching down on the path between the garrison and the fort, I settled into a jog, letting the easy rhythm of my boots on the dirt path lull me into a zen-like state as I let my mind wander. There were so many things we needed to do soon. Recruit more troops¡ªI remembered the governor had said he would see what he could do about that, so we could afford to wait a bit on it. Possibly recruit and start training some new aerial mages. Any mage could detect someone with potential, so we should easily be able to find recruits and entice them with pay, we just had to look. We also needed supplies to equip those soldiers and replace our own gear as it wore down¡ªmore guns, more bullets, more computation orbs, boots, uniforms, and so on. We had a bunch of supplies that Ugar had managed to send to us on the train, but those wouldn¡¯t last forever. There¡¯s a thought. Uniforms. We can¡¯t keep going around in altered Imperial uniforms. Eventually, someone may catch wind of it and look to investigate. We also need to do something about our name. We can source uniforms locally. Find out what color the locals use and avoid that. Perhaps a couple of different camouflage patterns for different environments. We¡¯re going to be doing a bunch of work in the jungle, so those should come first. As for a name¡­ what was it I said? I had a thought¡­ Ah! A military without borders. Why not that? In English, it¡¯s ¡®military without borders.¡¯ German, ¡®militar ohne grenzen.¡¯ But we¡¯re here in Brasa and we don¡¯t want to tie ourselves back to the Empire if possible, so¡­ Militar Sin Fronteras, or MSF. Going to need a logo. Eh, I¡¯ll leave that to someone more artsy. Eventually, I finished the three and a half mile run as the fort came into sight. I didn¡¯t even feel winded, after that¡ªjust a slight drain on my mana. Approaching the gate, I was greeted by the guard on duty. ¡°Halt! No one is allowed¡ªoh! Sorry, colonel!¡± he snapped to attention. ¡°Go on in.¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine. Any activity?¡± ¡°None, ma¡¯am! It¡¯s been quiet. The locals avoid the place.¡± ¡°Good,¡± I murmured, nodding. ¡°At ease,¡± I nodded and continued inside, looking around. Lifting off from the ground, I surveyed the area from the air, stopping when I got a good view of the river and the wall facing it. Humming to myself, I eyed the gate leading into the courtyard and did some mental math. My lips quirked into a grin as I keyed up on the shortwave. ¡°This is Colonel von Degurechaff. Who is on duty for the mechanized division today?¡± ¡°That¡¯d be me, ma¡¯am,¡± Capt. Maybert answered. ¡°Capt. Maybert, are you busy at the moment?¡± ¡°No, ma¡¯am. Nothing I can¡¯t hand off to someone else.¡± ¡°Meet me at the fort. I want to ask your opinion of something.¡± ¡°Roger that, ma¡¯am. I¡¯ll be there shortly.¡± Roughly three minutes later, the man dropped in beside me. He paused, seeing I was out of uniform. ¡°Ma¡¯am, aren¡¯t you off duty?¡± ¡°I am,¡± I confirmed. ¡°However, I was taking a little stroll around the place up here and I couldn¡¯t help but notice that we have a long, open line of sight over the river and the fact that we¡¯re sitting in a natural choke point. Tell me, captain. What¡¯s the range on those guns we took from the commies?¡± ¡°The smaller guns have an effective range of a little over eight miles, but if you want any sort of accuracy, I¡¯d call it seven. The big guns have a range of a bit over twelve miles, but I¡¯d back it down to eleven.¡± Looking out over the water, he grinned. ¡°Those 122mm guns could easily cover the entire river. The 76mm guns, not so much. They¡¯d be clear on our northwest and we couldn¡¯t traverse the 122mm guns that far if you¡¯re thinking of parking them in the courtyard. However¡­¡± He pointed across the river. ¡°We could build a small bunker, put in a couple of those arty pieces, and if we need to, send someone over to man it.¡± ¡°I like it,¡± I nodded. ¡°Get it done, captain. And deploy the other pieces at the garrison. I want as much coverage as we can get. We¡¯ll need to make sure we¡¯ve got lookouts stationed here watching the river, just in case some unwelcome surprise comes wandering in.¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± ¡°Oh, and Maybert? See if you can have it done before dark. We need to range them properly and everyone loves a good fireworks display.¡± I left with a whistle and a skip in my step. Pretty fireworks. All I need is a proper target to test them on¡­ Ah, what I wouldn¡¯t give for a division of commies for a live fire test. 06 A Young Girl¡¯s Outer Heaven 06
Commissioned by Aigloss.
¡°What is this?¡± I asked, holding up the clothes Visha had brought for me. ¡°Ehehehe~! You said we needed new uniforms, so the officers got together and decided on a couple of new designs, for different situations. Then, we spoke with our local contacts and they put us in touch with a local textile mill. From there, it was just a matter of pulling the records for everyone¡¯s measurements.¡± ¡°And you just have that on file?¡± I asked, raising an eyebrow as I pulled on the light, white linen button down shirt. ¡°Mm! It¡¯s in the paperwork we bring with the unit everywhere we go. Weiss and I also have photos of every document saved to our computation orbs, so we can reproduce them if needed. We left in a rush and needed to pack light, so we left the physical copies, but were able to retrieve the photos,¡± Visha explained with a smile. ¡°So? How does it feel?¡± I finished pulling up the shorts and tucking the shirt in, before fastening the belt at my waist. Twisting this way and that, I took a moment to adjust the shirt for comfort. The uniform she had brought me consisted of a button down white outer shirt, one of my usual white undershirts, a pair of khaki shorts that came down to mid-thigh, my socks, and a new set of shorter boots as opposed to the taller jackboots we wore with our battle dress. They looked more like modern lace up work boots, in fact. ¡°It¡¯s nice. It breathes well. What about the boots? These are new.¡± ¡°Good!¡± Visha nodded. ¡°As for the boots, I remember you complaining about the tall boots, so we¡¯re testing these. We¡¯ve all got them! They¡¯re much easier to get in and out of.¡± ¡°Going to have to break them in,¡± I muttered, testing their weight and the way they bent. They were a bit stiff, but I could live with it for a while. ¡°Oh, I almost forgot!¡± Visha grinned, and I suspected she hadn¡¯t forgotten at all actually, as she bent down and retrieved something from the bag she had brought containing several copies of the outfit she had laid out for me this morning. ¡°Here you go, ma¡¯am!¡± I took the offered hat and sent her a deadpan look. Deciding to be a good sport, and because reacting any other way would give her the satisfaction of seeing me annoyed, I slipped the hat over my blonde hair and turned to look at myself in the full length mirror. Huh. I¡¯ll be. That isn¡¯t bad, actually. Even the ¡®cowboy hat¡¯ fits. It looks like a variant on a British uniform I vaguely recall from¡­ South Africa? The Boer war? ¡°So, I take it that these are everyday uniforms?¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± Visha nodded. ¡°We¡¯ve commissioned several different types and are waiting for them to come in. Jungle camouflage and all black battle dress uniforms first, then a new parade uniform.¡± ¡°And just how are we going to pay for these?¡± I asked, turning from the mirror and meeting her eye, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Ah, we actually have the budget for it. Things will be a bit tight, but we can manage for a bit. Especially once we start taking on more missions,¡± Visha explained. ¡°Things here are so much less expensive than in the Empire. I think that when you budgeted, you did so with Imperial prices in mind.¡± Thinking it over for a moment, I nodded. ¡°I may have.¡± Making my way over to the small table in the corner of the room, I took a seat. Visha took our breakfast plates off the tray in the middle, then took a moment to pour us each a cup of coffee, before taking the seat opposite me. Taking a sip of my coffee, I sighed in satisfaction at the taste of a very fresh roast before digging into my food¡ªsausage, bacon, eggs, and a couple of muffins. We¡¯re all going to get spoiled and fat if we have food this good every day. ¡°Thank you, Visha. What¡¯s on the agenda for today?¡± ¡°A member of the squad sent on reconnaissance came in about 0500 this morning with a report. The officer on overnight duty sent him off to the mess to get breakfast and forwarded the request to debrief him at 0700 when I reported in for shift change. Some information came in last night about the Carniceros, from the harbormaster. The remaining lieutenants and their men are moving their cargo in tonight or tomorrow and planning to leave by ship to sail to Sao Paulo.¡± ¡°Human cargo,¡± I spat, and Visha nodded. Briefly, I considered going in myself to put a stop to it, before I realized that there were other uses for my time. It¡¯s funny. I couldn¡¯t wait to get into a position to delegate things, to sit in the rear safe and sound, pushing papers around while others risked their lives. Now, my first instinct is to rush in myself with the rest of the men behind me. The idea of not going almost feels wrong. Ah, irony. Besides, I can¡¯t allow myself to get distracted by the remnants of a human trafficking ring when we could have actionable intel on our comrades to the southeast. ¡°Put a squad on it. Wait for them to shove off, then take them. Secure the hostages, then sweep the ship. If they resist, kill them. If not, capture and interrogate them. I want to confirm whether this is all of them or not.¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± Visha acknowledged, in between bites. She took a sip from her own cup, before adding, ¡°Also, we¡¯ve got a lead on getting that plane you requested. With the war over, the Americans have begun offering to sell off their stock of aircraft to other nations. Governor Vasquez heard about this through his connections and wants to purchase a couple for the state of Para.¡± ¡°You mean for us,¡± I interpreted, and Visha nodded. ¡°Do we have pilots?¡± ¡°Ah, about that¡­¡± she hemmed. ¡°He wanted to meet with you over lunch today. I got the impression that he has a pilot in mind, but that it was a personal matter.¡± ¡°Alright. Contact him and let him know we¡¯ll be there. We need an aircraft.¡± We finished up breakfast quickly after that and I made my way to the briefing room, while Visha quickly took the dishes down to the mess and returned with the man who had been assigned to the recon mission. Lt. Col. Weiss started the debrief as soon as he entered. ¡°What have you got for us?¡± ¡°Sir, ma¡¯am, recon photos of Sao Domingos. May I?¡± he asked, and I nodded and gestured for him to proceed. A moment later, a hologram sprang up above the table we sat around. We had terrain maps of the surrounding land and aerial photos of the village itself, along with equipment and ¡®soldiers,¡¯ if the rabble in the photos could be called that. ¡°As you can see, they¡¯ve taken over the town. The locals are all in hiding, or evacuated to other towns nearby. Those that stayed behind have it rough. Exactly what we¡¯ve seen in the past from communist occupied towns and villages.¡± Meaning that the army were stealing food, supplies, and whatever else they liked from their ¡®hosts,¡¯ beating and/or killing the men, and raping the women all while forcing the villagers to quarter them. ¡°They have a full battalion of tanks, a company of T-34s, twenty towed 76mm artillery pieces¡ª¡± Where are they getting all of these men?! The tanks, I understand. The Russy made them in bulk. I understand being dissatisfied with one¡¯s government¡ªthat is the natural state of affairs, after all. But surely there can¡¯t be that many people here willing to convert to the death cult of communism! They must be instituting some form of forced recruitment. The same tactics we saw the Russy use. Finally, the debrief ended and we dismissed the man for the day, but told him to stick around so we could send orders back with him. Once he was out of the room, Weiss and the rest of my officers turned to me. I hummed thoughtfully as I considered what we had been told so far. Eventually, I asked, ¡°Any word from our team in Santa Maria?¡± ¡°None yet,¡± Weiss shook his head. ¡°Alright. Weiss, begin planning an assault but leave enough men for a hypothetical second, simultaneous assault on Santa Maria. As soon as we have what we need, I want to drive them out.¡± ¡°Yes, colonel.¡± ¡°Unless there¡¯s anything else¡­?¡± I paused and everyone shook their heads. ¡°Dismissed.¡± With that, I left and made my way to my office, where I found a pile of paperwork an inch thick waiting on me. Taking a seat, I pulled the top form off the stack and got to work. Expense request for fund disbursement and invoice for uniforms. Everything looks in order. Approved¡­
I hummed quietly to myself as Visha and I were led not to the dining room, but to a shaded pavilion in the governor¡¯s estate with a ceiling fan going above us. Waiting for us were the governor and a young woman, only a few years older than Tanya¡ªthan myself, rather. She was slim and short, with dark hair, a deep tan, and light brown eyes. Very cute, really. They looked up as we approached, the girl sizing myself and Visha up and smiling. ¡°Colonel von Degurechaff, Captain Serebryakov, welcome,¡± the man greeted us with a smile as we were seated. ¡°Governor Vasquez,¡± I sent the man a pleasant nod as the attendant began pouring cups of coffee. As was my habit, I cast a poison detection formula, but found nothing. Not that I truly suspected anything would happen, given that I¡¯d seen several of my men posted here since entering, but it didn¡¯t hurt to be thorough. ¡°How are you today?¡± ¡°I am well, thank you for asking. Please, allow me to introduce my granddaughter, Edwina Vasquez. Edwina, these are Col. Tanya von Degurechaff and her adjutant, Capt. Viktoriya Serebryakov.¡± ¡°Pleasure to meet you!¡± the girl beamed, holding out her hand and shaking mine, then Visha. ¡°Just Visha is fine,¡± the blonde at my side smiled. ¡°So, you¡¯re the one who¡¯s going to get me my aeroplane?¡± Visha and I shared a confused look, before turning to the governor. The man chuckled. ¡°Yes, that. You see, young Edwina here is a fair hand at all things aeronautics. A bit of an obsession, really, thanks to her father,¡± he sighed, while the girl grinned wider. ¡°She wants to fly and make herself useful, you need a pilot. Edwina is the best pilot and mechanic I know. So long as you¡¯re not expecting anti-air fire, having her work with your company shouldn¡¯t pose an issue.¡± ¡°Not expecting AA, but that doesn¡¯t mean that it can¡¯t happen,¡± I pointed out. I considered the girl for a moment as I thought it over. I wasn¡¯t going to turn her away because of her age or sex¡ªthat would be hypocritical. So long as she knew what she was doing and could reach all of the flight controls, I didn¡¯t have an issue giving the governor¡¯s granddaughter a job, if that¡¯s what she wanted. But that didn¡¯t mean that I wouldn¡¯t test her. ¡°How much experience do you have flying? How many hours have you logged?¡± ¡°Hmm, well~,¡± she smiled, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the table, ¡°my father has a small business running secure, private charter flights for government officials like grandfather. Most recently, he purchased a DC-3 and we converted it into a luxury plane. I¡¯ve been flying since I was big enough to sit in his lap and hold the yoke. When I could reach the pedals, papa let me do everything from takeoff to landing.¡± She laughed and added, ¡°He usually naps on these flights now.¡± ¡°What types of aircraft have you flown?¡± ¡°Everything I could get my hands on! I work on them, too. We do all of our own maintenance and modifications in house.¡± ¡°I would like to hire you, however, we don¡¯t yet have anything for you to fly,¡± I shook my head. ¡°Yes, about that,¡± the governor sat up a bit straighter in his seat. ¡°I¡¯ll be sending some of my people up to the States to purchase some of their surplus, on behalf of Brasa. That they¡¯re specifically for the state of Para and our esteemed el presidente will never see a single one, except perhaps flying above him, aren¡¯t details the Americans will care about.¡± ¡°Of course,¡± I agreed with a shark¡¯s smile. ¡°I would like you to handle this for me, Colonel. A small contingent of your men. However many you feel are necessary. Both to safeguard the money and for Edwina¡¯s protection.¡± I raised an eyebrow and he looked a bit sheepish. ¡°I realize what I¡¯m asking. If you would do this as a favor to me, I would be very grateful.¡±The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. He was asking us¡ªme, specifically¡ªto babysit his granddaughter. It was far, far below what you would ask someone of my rank to do¡ªat least, in an official capacity. As a favor for a friend, however? It was reasonable. As for what we were getting out of it¡­ A plane capable of transporting the 203rd and a pilot. We could begin long range operations almost immediately. Not to mention, fast air support. Depending on what was purchased, we could modify it just as the airmen of the Vietnam era did with their bombers and cargo planes. ¡°Please, think nothing of it. I would be happy to do this for a friend,¡± I smiled. ¡°In fact, please call me Tanya in private.¡± The man laughed. ¡°Then I insist you call me Pedro.¡± ¡°Now, when were you looking to have this done?¡± I asked. ¡°As soon as feasibly possible. We want to get there before the communists convince presidente Vargas to go purchase some, so they can use them to terrorize the rest of the country. I wasn¡¯t sure where you stood on being able to spare the manpower, so I was hoping we could have something hammered out and go within the next month.¡± Picking up my coffee, I leaned back in my chair and sipped as I thought. ¡°Visha, anything outstanding that can¡¯t wait for a week?¡± ¡°Just Sao Domingos and Santa Maria,¡± she shook her head. ¡°But without word on Santa Maria¡­¡± ¡°Right,¡± I murmured. That complicated matters. I would very much like to be there for the mission to take out those two thorns in our side. On the other hand, having air support for both of those missions would be fantastic. But if I were in America, I could potentially place an international call to the Empire and make contact with Col. Ugar. See how things are going. Tell him to start sending men, along with the families of those already here, which would further solidify the men¡¯s loyalty and boost their morale. So¡­ divide and conquer. Suppose I leave enough in reserve here for both towns, to guard the island, and to guard the governor. The trip to America shouldn¡¯t take more than a single squadron. No, in fact, I think I can narrow it down further. I¡¯ve yet to fully test my new limits, but I think that I should be able to handle it myself. Bring Visha along for an extra set of eyes and hands, just in case¡ªand someone visibly in uniform. A captain should be of sufficient visible rank for this. ¡°Those new uniforms. Do you have yours? The dress uniform, specifically.¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± Visha nodded. ¡°We had test models made for all of the officers.¡± ¡°How many people are you sending?¡± I asked, looking to Pedro. It was Edwina who answered, however. ¡°Seven pilots, including myself and father. However, father will be flying his own plane back, so really just six of us to bring new aeroplanes, along with two crewmen and mechanics each, just to go over everything thoroughly.¡± ¡°And the money?¡± ¡°Cash. Five million American dollars,¡± Pedro supplied. I whistled quietly. That would be the equivalent of about seventy-five million dollars in my original world, or nearly seven and a half billion yen. It was a not insignificant amount of cash to have on hand. ¡°Are you sure you want to transport that much in cash?¡± ¡°That is why I want you there.¡± Frowning, I asked, ¡°What makes you so certain that I wouldn¡¯t simply take the money and run? I am an aerial mage. My record speaks for itself. I am one of, if not the strongest aerial mage in the world¡ªand certainly the one with the highest confirmed kill count to date. If I wanted to take it, there isn¡¯t a force in this country that could stop me.¡± ¡°And that is why you are the best choice. Because you¡¯re willing to point out that even you are not above suspicion with that much money on the line.¡± Leaning back in his chair, the man crossed his arms over his chest and grinned. ¡°No, colonel, I believe I have your measure. You are a soldier and a businesswoman. A consummate professional. You value your personal integrity and code of honor too much to throw them away for money. You are the sort of person who makes a deal and sticks with it. You wouldn¡¯t sacrifice your men and their families for short term personal gain. You¡¯re too invested in them to simply abandon them and leave them twisting in the breeze.¡± I opened my mouth, only to close it as Visha giggled. ¡°He has your number, ma¡¯am.¡± Once upon a time, I would have taken the money and run without a moment¡¯s hesitation, and then disappeared to some little hole in the wall half the world away to live the rest of my days in obscurity, never to see war, strife, or bloodshed again. Of course, that was before¡­ Things have changed, haven¡¯t they? Gone are the days of treating my men as little more than meat shields. They¡¯re people now. Blowing out a quiet sigh, I nodded. ¡°Very well. Visha, pack our bags. You and I are taking a trip to the States. We leave first thing tomorrow morning.¡± ¡°So soon?¡± Pedro raised an eyebrow. ¡°Sooner the better. I want to try to get it done before we go pay our communist friends to the east a visit.¡± Looking to Edwina, I asked, ¡°How long will the flight take?¡± The young woman perked up a bit. ¡°I¡¯ve already planned out all of the stops. Most of the trip will be over water as we island hop after our first refueling stop in Georgetown. Bellum to Georgetown, to Barbados, Puerto Rico, Miami, New Orleans, and finally to Pyote Army Air Base in Midland, Texas where they¡¯ve started moving what we want for storage. About forty-four hundred miles one way. We¡¯re looking at between twenty-six and thirty hours, depending on the wind and other factors. We should reach Miami about midnight, where we¡¯ll stop to sleep for eight hours before moving on and we¡¯ll stop in San Juan on the way back for the same. We¡¯re going to have to stop to refuel about every two hours or so, but that shouldn¡¯t take too long. A standard DC-3 has a range of about fifteen hundred miles, fourteen hundred for safety, but we¡¯ve added reserve fuel tanks to ours, so we can get eighteen hundred safely if we need to.¡± Looking thoughtful, Visha asked, ¡°Should we pack light?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± I agreed. ¡°Two changes of street clothes, dress uniform, and a spare flight suit for yourself, street clothes and my flight suit for me. SMGs, sidearms, and one grenade each. I suggest bringing a book.¡± ¡°Ooh! Do I get a gun?!¡± Edwina asked, and I sent her a skeptical look. ¡°Have you ever shot a gun?¡± ¡°Only the ones mounted on an old fighter,¡± she pouted. I considered it for a moment before shrugging. ¡°We can teach you later, but unless it¡¯s an emergency, I won¡¯t be arming an untrained civilian.¡± A thoughtful look crossed Visha¡¯s face before it was replaced, for just a moment, with a sharkish smile. ¡°I¡¯ll bring the playing cards.¡± Those men are doomed, I mentally consigned the men traveling with us to their fates. ¡°Well, I believe that concludes that bit of business. Please, stay for lunch,¡± he said, waving to one of the servants standing some distance away. ¡°What can you tell me about our mutual ¡®friends?¡¯ Any news?¡± ¡°As a matter of fact¡­¡±
The next morning, I paused outside the briefing room as I caught a snippet of conversation, on my way to collect Visha to make our way to the airfield on the mainland. ¡°And you¡¯re sure we shouldn¡¯t tell her?¡± I heard Weiss asking, which caused my hand to pause partway to the doorknob. ¡°I¡¯m sure,¡± Visha answered, sounding amused. ¡°Trust me, she¡¯ll appreciate the surprise.¡± ¡°Only if we can get them up and running in time,¡± the man muttered. ¡°Trust me, Weiss! Now that we own both a coffee and cocoa farm thanks to our efforts taking down the Carniceros and confiscating their stuff, keeping her nice and mellow should be super easy with our own dedicated supply chain!¡± Weiss laughed. ¡°She¡¯s not a child, you know.¡± ¡°I know! But she¡¯s really easy to placate. The way to the colonel¡¯s heart is through her stomach! Specifically, good coffee and sweet chocolate. Unless you want a return of bloodthirsty, angry, short-tempered Col. von Degurechaff, living on nothing but k-brot and ersatz coffee?¡± ¡°Lord no!¡± he chuckled in mock horror, and I rolled my eyes. I wasn¡¯t that bad! They were exaggerating! ¡°I¡¯ve already got some ideas in mind. I used to melt in a little chocolate with her coffee to sweeten it up and make it less awful. I¡¯d like to try it with cocoa and cream. Maybe some caramel.¡± My stomach rumbled and I resisted the urge to drool¡ªthat sounded heavenly. Shaking my head, I pushed open the door. ¡°Are we ready?¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am!¡± Visha snapped to attention, looking like she hadn¡¯t just been discussing how to lead me around by my love for coffee and chocolate. ¡°We¡¯ll be back hopefully inside three days. Weiss, I leave everything in your hands until then. If you get actionable intel, don¡¯t wait for me. Get it done,¡± I instructed. ¡°Yes, colonel,¡± the man nodded. We said a quick goodbye and gathered our bags¡ªjust one each¡ªbefore heading out to the courtyard and taking to the air. A quick flight across the water and we set down on a runway on the north side of the city, where we found several suited men waiting, many of them drinking coffee and smoking, along with Edwina, wearing a light sun dress. I felt a bit under dressed, wearing my tamer ¡®lolita bait¡¯ outfit¡­ but then, that was the point. I was supposed to look like a child for this. Visha was supposed to be the military liaison and security, and a potential retired aerial mage¡ªthe obvious danger. I was supposed to go unnoticed, looked over and disregarded as any sort of threat. It would hopefully keep me from standing out. ¡°You made it!¡± the girl cheered. ¡°Papa, let¡¯s get moving!¡± ¡°Yes, yes,¡± a bedraggled looking man grumbled, before moving to the stairs leading inside. ¡°Get in and buckle up.¡± With that, everyone gathered up their belongings, the smokers dropped their butts on the tarmac, and everyone filed into the plane. Edwina was the last before us, and I took Visha¡¯s bag so the taller blonde could help lift up a wooden ice chest and haul it inside. There were a few seats still left in the front, so I stowed our bags under two chairs by the front door and took a seat beside the window. Edwina quietly thanked Visha, who took the seat immediately beside me. Standing at the front of the plane, just behind the cabin, Edwina cleared her throat. ¡°For those of you who haven¡¯t flown with me before, please pay attention. Firstly, no smoking! We¡¯re in an aluminum can and there¡¯s no rolling down a window, so God help you if you decide to smoke on my aircraft. Secondly, if you need to use the restroom, there are a couple of buckets in the back. Please respect everyone¡¯s privacy. There are ladies on board, so if one of you decides to peep, I¡¯ll put you outside myself, and that¡¯s if you don¡¯t get shot first. Finally¡­ I know these flights get long and boring, so I brought some snacks and beverages. Don¡¯t drink until you have to puke, or I¡¯m putting you outside. Any questions?¡± ¡°Are we there yet?¡± someone asked from the back, which kicked off a series of groans from the others. ¡°Smartasses can also take a walk at ten thousand feet!¡± the girl stuck her tongue out before poking her head into the cabin. ¡°We¡¯re good to go.¡± Shortly after that, we were rolling down the runway. Once we had leveled off, Edwina got up from her seat and made her way over to a cabinet I¡¯d noticed mounted across from the door. Opening it up, she fiddled with something and I heard something pop overhead. A glance up turned up overhead speakers, just as I heard a hiss from a radio. A few moments later, after a bit of static, music filled the cabin over the drone of the engines. Reaching into my bag under my seat, I pulled out a book as Visha turned to Edwina when the girl sat back down and struck up a conversation. I settled in for a long ride.
¡°Yes, operator? Haha, sorry for the late hour! But you know how it is. I need to place an international call to Berun and I think the time over there is just past seven now, so¡­¡± I listened with half an ear as Visha followed my instructions and sweet talked the operator into putting our call through. I would have done it myself, but¡­ she was much more persuasive than me, and I had a feeling that an operator would just think it was a prank, given how young I sounded. Finally, after about five minutes, Visha perked up. ¡°One moment please, Colonel Ugar.¡± I accepted the phone she offered me. Putting on my best childish voice, I cried out, ¡°Uncle Max?!¡± There was a pause on the other end, before the man hesitantly asked, ¡°Little Tanya?¡± ¡°I knew you¡¯d recognize my voice, uncle! How are you? It¡¯s been some time since we last spoke! I¡¯d like to thank you for the presents you sent for me. The toilet paper has been especially useful.¡± The man chuckled once, before incredulously asking, ¡°Is that¡­ really you? The reports we¡¯ve heard said that your ship was, ah, lost at sea in a tragic accident.¡± ¡°Oh, make no mistake, there was an accident. It was horrible. I nearly died! It was a nasty storm and we heard afterwards that a bunch of American ships went down. But my family and I are all safe and sound in our new home.¡± ¡°That all sounds¡­ miraculous,¡± he murmured. ¡°Was that Viktoriya earlier?¡± ¡°Yes, that was big sister Viktoriya,¡± I confirmed, drawing a giggle from the blonde beside me. I would have ignored it, if not for her hand coming down, pulling off my hat, and running through my hair. I was so completely unprepared for the contact that I jerked away, but she followed. Rolling my eyes, I ignored her petting as I refocused on Ugar and getting the message across. ¡°We found a nice, quiet little place to settle down. There¡¯s lots of space here. Space enough for all of my brothers and sisters and cousins, and their families.¡± The man hummed quietly, before letting out an ¡°Ah.¡± A moment later he asked, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Tanya. Your extended family is very large and I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ve lost access to all of their records. You wouldn¡¯t happen to have a list of their names and how to contact them, would you? And just where are you calling from, so I can let them know how to reach you?¡± ¡°Visha thought ahead and brought a list. We¡¯re calling from Miami, Florida, in the Unified States. Unfortunately, they don¡¯t have international calling yet in our new home. But they do have chocolate, and the coffee beans you love so much!¡± ¡°Oh? Where¡¯s that?¡± ¡°Brasa. The state of Para, city of Bellum. It¡¯s the largest port on the east coast of South America.¡± ¡°And you¡¯re keeping up with your schooling?¡± ¡°Ah, well, they don¡¯t actually have the sorts of high quality schools I attended back home, unfortunately. But we¡¯ve made friends with the governor and we¡¯re planning to build one of our own, soon. Then, in a few years, when everything¡¯s settled down maybe we can come back home.¡± ¡°I see,¡± Ugar hummed. ¡°Unfortunately, I don¡¯t know how soon that will be. I think it¡¯s best if you stay there for now. In fact, I may speak with the wife and see if she¡¯d like to take a vacation.¡± ¡°I can promise white sand beaches and lots of work. Lots and lots of work. Mostly with your old comrades,¡± I stressed the last word and he let out a quiet hiss of breath. ¡°We¡¯d be happy to have you. Perhaps you can even convince grandfather Hans to come along?¡± ¡°Zettour?¡± he asked, before sighing. ¡°I¡¯m not sure it would be possible for him to get away right now. As you know, there was some trouble at work and the company is in some legal trouble. Your grandfather is being questioned rather sternly about his actions, and the actions of those under his command¡ªespecially a certain fairy. She¡¯s being hailed as a hero here at home, but others say she was quite naughty. Not just for running away, but they think we beat our American competitors to something they were nearly finished working on and this naughty girl took it to demonstrate it against them.¡± I blinked at that as several things clicked. Why Ugar seemed shocked to hear from me again, for one. The Americans think we built a nuke. Or a magical nuke? Not sure and it¡¯d be impossible to clarify in code. ¡°It¡¯s earned us a bit of leeway with them and the others pursuing legal action against them, however. But they are adamant that we not be allowed to make or use more. They¡¯ve offered to settle out of court, but as part of the terms of our settling, they want the people in charge of the project. You remember, uh, uncle Schugel?¡± Schugel!!! I flinched at the name. ¡°I remember,¡± I groaned. His words penetrated and a thrill of fear ran down my spine. ¡°The ah, the Americans¡­ want uncle Schugel?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Fuck. There was really no other response that so completely encapsulated just how I felt about the danger that represented. The last three times Schugel was allowed to play with toys unsupervised and had been given a budget to do so, the man had produced the cursed Elinium Type-95 computation orb, the V-1 hydrogen rocket, and then the Type-97 orbs. ¡°They¡¯re planning to leave with him and his entire team and take them to America, soon. The day after tomorrow, in fact.¡± My stomach dropped into my shoes. As much as I hated Schugel for being absolutely insane, the man was a genius. They say that it¡¯s a fine line that separates madness and genius, but Schugel defies that by happily being both. The Americans wanted Schugel to build them a nuke, which they were apparently close to already and they believed that we beat them to the punch and I had been the one to test the first one, on the ships that had been following us. And thinking he built a nuke, the first thing they¡¯re going to want is nuclear missiles. They¡¯ll get there eventually on their own, but nuclear missiles are the absolute least of my worries when it comes to that madman! Who knows what sort of horrors he would make with an unlimited American black budget?! I can¡¯t let them have him. One way or another. Fuck! I started a recording formula as I made my decision. ¡°What else can you tell me?¡± 07 A Young Girl¡¯s Outer Heaven 07
Commissioned by Aigloss.
¡°Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Lt. Col. Anderson, US Air Force. Welcome to Pyote Air Force Base. Or, as we here affectionately call it, Rattlesnake Base. We do call it that for a reason. We¡¯re in west Texas in the summer. The place is crawling with rattlers.¡± I stretched as we debarked from the plane, cracking a yawn and moving to stand beside Visha and Edwina. I was so happy to be out of that tin can that I couldn¡¯t help but smile as I stretched out again, holding in a groan of satisfaction as my lower back cracked. ¡°It wasn¡¯t that bad,¡± Edwina rolled her eyes. ¡°It really was!¡± Visha countered, giggling. A click and flash drew my attention to where a man in a suit and had held a camera, pointing it at our group and taking photos. Edwina¡¯s father noticed and asked, ¡°Why the camera?¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t worry about it too much. It¡¯s just for security purposes,¡± the man wearing Air Force dress blues who had greeted us with an armed escort of four uniformed military police and the cameraman explained. ¡°Besides, you brought an aerial mage of your own, didn¡¯t you?¡± he asked, gesturing to Visha. ¡°I¡¯m merely here to facilitate the exchange and ensure the safety of the money until it changes hands,¡± Visha answered with a smile, before introducing herself. ¡°Mage Captain Viktoriya Ivanovna Serebryakov.¡± ¡°Where did you say you were from again?¡± he asked, as though he had simply forgotten. ¡°Brasa,¡± Edwina¡¯s father supplied. Nodding, Anderson said, ¡°I wasn¡¯t aware that Brasa even had the ability to identify aerial mages, let alone the means to produce computation orbs and train them.¡± ¡°Good!¡± my adjutant laughed. ¡°We like to keep it that way. I¡¯m sure a fellow soldier understands the value of operational security.¡± LTC Anderson grinned at her. ¡°That¡¯s an interesting accent. Imperial?¡± Visha shrugged. ¡°As much as someone from Port-au-Prince has a Francois accent.¡± The man considered it for a moment before apparently deciding that asking further wasn¡¯t worth the effort. ¡°Alright then!¡± he clapped his hands and waved our group towards the hangar behind him. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of the sun. We¡¯ve got fans going in the hangar and drinks and sandwiches for anyone who wants them. I¡¯ve got a list of aircraft and prices you can go over, then we can go out and look at them¡ª¡± ¡°Actually,¡± Edwina¡¯s father spoke up as we began following the Air Force salesman, ¡°what I¡¯d like to do is purchase one now.¡± ¡°Sure, what¡¯d you have in mind? We can go over the paperwork¡ª¡± ¡°No, I¡¯m sorry. You misunderstand me,¡± he chuckled. ¡°By ¡®now,¡¯ I meant right now. I¡¯d like you to take my daughter and our mechanics to look over your best B-17. We¡¯ll check to make sure she¡¯s flight ready, then I¡¯ll need you to fuel it up so she can leave. Unfortunately, we received word upon landing in Florida that my government has urgent business overseas and we couldn¡¯t spare our own plane to go, nor does it have the fuel capacity to make the trip. We¡¯ll gladly pay up front for the plane and fuel costs.¡± The LTC reached up and rubbed at his chin for a moment before nodding. The man was obviously curious and entirely too interested in our desire to hurry this along, but he appeared to be willing to make the sale now. ¡°Alright. Sure. We can do that. Let¡¯s head into the office and you can make the payment for it up front, then we can go see one.¡± We made our way inside and I took a moment to get myself a sandwich and a glass of iced sweet tea from a refrigerator set up against the wall with the hangar¡¯s office and had a quick snack as the others quickly did a bit of haggling over the price of a B-17, before Visha opened the case and they counted out the required money. She then un-cuffed the briefcase from her wrist and strapped it to Edwina¡¯s father, before taking out her sidearm and handing it to him. Then, we were hustled into a group of Jeeps and driven across the field. ¡°Here they are. We¡¯ve got a few to choose from,¡± Anderson said as the jeeps came to a stop in front of a long line of silvery planes. ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­¡± I tuned out as I walked away from the group, looking over the planes and the names painted on the sides. Royal Flush, Ol¡¯ 666, Hell¡¯s Kitchen, Memphis Belle¡­ Abruptly, hands grabbed my shoulders and jerked me back. My hand was halfway to the combat knife hidden in my waistband before I registered the words of one of the MPs. ¡°Whoa there, little lady!¡± he said, pointing out where I had nearly walked right past a curled up snake sitting behind the landing gear of a plane. Disturbed by the noise, it began to make a distinctive rattle and hiss. ¡°Oh. Thank you,¡± I murmured, turning a smile up on him as he let me go. It probably wouldn¡¯t have actually hurt me if I¡¯d been bitten, but it would definitely raise questions and concerns I didn¡¯t want. ¡°Be more careful, okay?¡± he asked, and I nodded. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s get you back to the group.¡± I turned at his direction, only to pause as my eyes swept over a bomber and the name painted on the side of it. Taking a breath, I turned and whistled towards the others, drawing their attention. ¡°What about this one?¡± Visha and Edwina hurried over, followed by the crew we had brought with us, along with the Air Force personnel. Visha carefully covered a giggle, sending me an amused look. Quietly, she muttered, ¡°It suits you.¡± Edwina, however, grinned. ¡°I think I¡¯m in love. Alright, boys! Let¡¯s take a peek up her skirt and see how she¡¯s doing, hm?¡± She glanced at me before directing her next comment at Visha. ¡°It might take an hour or two to go over it, do a preflight, and fuel her up¡ªassuming everything¡¯s in working order. You could go hang out with dad in the hangar.¡± Visha looked to me and I shrugged. She nodded and smiled. ¡°I can¡¯t add much here and I¡¯m sure my sister would like to get out of the heat. She¡¯s so fair, she burns very easily!¡± That had been true, before. When we were on the southern continent, I had to take some pretty drastic measures to keep from burning. Eventually, I had modified a magic shield formula to filter out UV. Now though, since the explosion¡­ the sun didn¡¯t really seem to bother me. If anything, I felt more energetic under it. The heat I could do without, but the sun itself didn¡¯t bother me. But since Visha was making an excuse for us, I went along with it. Putting on my best whiny voice, I complained, ¡°It¡¯s hot~!¡± ¡°Hehe! Alright, let¡¯s go!¡± Visha giggled, and one of the MPs escorted us back to a Jeep with LTC Anderson, then back to the hangar. We moved into an air conditioned office on the side of the building and Edwina¡¯s father and LTC Anderson began some discussion over what we were going to buy, with Visha sitting in to add the implied authority of the Brasa military. I found a chair in the back of the office and took a seat, kicking my feet up on the desk and pulling my hat down over my eyes as I settled in to rest. Hurry up and wait. I hate it, but there¡¯s nothing we can do. So frustrating! Every moment we waste, the damned Americans could be spiriting Schugel away to some black site to turn out wunderwaffen! It¡¯s not like we can just fly up somewhere and wait for them, even if we knew where they were going. Nor can we just strike in Germany, should we actually make it before they take off. We can¡¯t have anything tied back to the motherland. No, anything that happens has to take place over the Atlantic, mid-transit. Too far out to get a magical signature reading if things get nasty. Absolutely too far for anyone to help them, assuming anyone catches a radio or magical transmission. Where finding debris, let alone survivors, would be next to impossible. I settled into my usual pre-combat routine, breathing evenly and making my body relax. Even if we left right this moment, it would still be a hell of a flight. Pyote, Texas to, at a guess, New York where we would refuel. Even at 250 mph, not quite the B-17¡¯s top speed according to the specs LTC Anderson had given us but still pushing things, that would be a nearly seven hour flight. New York to Berun was about four thousand miles¡ªanother sixteen hours or so. Just doing the math, I was beginning to have my doubts about our ability to make it on time. If only they had a B-29. Much faster, larger, and a greater range. Unfortunately, those probably won¡¯t be developed for another ten years, if the technology stays roughly on par with my original Earth, as it seems to have. Eventually, I drifted off in my seat, lulled into a nap by the cool air and the droning of fans and air conditioners. So it was that I was shaken and irritable, my heart hammering in my chest and an explosive formula halfway built, when the door to the office slammed open and Edwina pulled me violently from my sleep. ¡°We¡¯re good to go!¡± she yelled over Anderson and her father talking. Visha immediately popped to her feet and I managed to get out of my own chair. LTC Anderson stood as well. ¡°That was fast.¡± ¡°My people know their trade,¡± Edwina¡¯s father grinned. Looking to his daughter, he said, ¡°Fly safe.¡± ¡°Of course, papa. Oh, I¡¯ll be taking one of the other pilots with me so we can trade off flying.¡± ¡°Sure, sure,¡± he nodded. ¡°Your daughter is a pilot?¡± Anderson asked, sounding impressed. ¡°Oh, yes. She¡¯s been flying since she was big enough to sit in my lap.¡± We hurried out of the office, leaving Anderson and Edwina¡¯s father there, heading downstairs. I made a stop by the refrigerator and, seeing what I was doing, Edwina and Visha helped me raid the fridge, gathering up a plate of wrapped sandwiches and every bottled soda they had. We carried everything out to the plane we¡¯d flown in on and tossed the food into Edwina¡¯s cooler, after dumping out the water, and went back inside to get ice from the ice box to keep it cool. After grabbing our luggage, we had our MP escort drive us out to the first of our new air force. We hurried up into the already running plane as the last of the men stepped out of it. Stepping into the cockpit after closing and locking the forward door, Edwina yelled, ¡°Jorge! Punch it!¡± ¡°Where to?¡± the man asked as he began to taxi the plane out onto the runway, while Visha and I got our things stowed and took our seats. We got strapped in just in time for the plane to take off. Unlike the plane we had rode in on, accommodations for comfort in this military plane were minimal, to say the least. Reaching up, I grabbed one of the headsets and pulled it on so we could communicate over the sound of the engines as Visha did the same. ¡°New York. We¡¯ll radio ahead when we get close and arrange to refuel. Then it¡¯s across the Atlantic to Berun. Once you get up to cruising altitude, I¡¯ll take over and you can go take a nap. We¡¯ll swap out later tonight.¡± Opening my suitcase, I took out my book again and settled in for yet another long flight.
Meanwhile, in Bellum¡­ Lt. Col. Weiss frowned as he looked over the most recent report. ¡°You¡¯re certain this is accurate?¡± ¡°Yes, sir,¡± the soldier who had brought it in confirmed. ¡°I just finished transferring the recon photos to your computation orb.¡± ¡°Thank you. Go get some chow and take the rest of the day off. Dismissed,¡± he ordered, and the soldier saluted before leaving Weiss¡¯s office. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Keying up on the Kampfgruppe magical frequency, Weiss said, ¡°Officers, report to the briefing room in fifteen minutes.¡± With that, he got up and made his way down to the mess, made up a plate and grabbed a cup of coffee, and took it back up to the briefing room where he sat down and ate a quick meal. Soon enough, the rest of the officers had gathered and he stood. ¡°We¡¯ve received a report on Santa Maria,¡± he said, tapping the typed report on the table. ¡°This is it, gentlemen. The colonel¡¯s orders were clear. I want to take care of this mess before she gets back. So, we¡¯re going to begin planning a night raid on both Santa Maria and Sao Domingos. I want to take both without a single casualty on our side, and with as much of the enemy¡¯s supplies intact as we can. After all, we can¡¯t make it ours if it¡¯s in pieces.¡± That got a few laughs as he projected the latest photos over the table and they began planning their operation.
Around the same time, in the Caribbean Sea¡­ Cmdr. Fuchs sipped from a cup of coffee and watched through a pair of binoculars as, a few hundred yards away, an absolute massacre took place. Marines from the Ingrid and a couple of men from Col. Degurechaff¡¯s mage escort assigned to them slaughtered their way across yet another pirate ship that had attempted to attack their small cargo fleet. ¡°They never learn, do they?¡± the captain asked, sipping from his own cup as gunshots echoed out across the water. ¡°No, sir,¡± she chuckled. ¡°But they¡¯re pirates, so my hopes weren¡¯t high to begin with.¡± ¡°I suppose it¡¯s a good thing. One more pirate ship to tow into port and sell. This little trip just keeps getting more and more profitable for us.¡± ¡°Mm,¡± she nodded, resting her cup on the railing. ¡°Too bad they aren¡¯t worth keeping. It might be worth the cost of upkeep, if we had a second, or even a third warship to act as an escort.¡± Smirking, the captain asked, ¡°Yes, but isn¡¯t it just that much more satisfying when they try to attack our people, only to watch in horror as the Ingrid surfaces and cuts off their escape?¡± ¡°Satisfying, certainly. But satisfaction doesn¡¯t pay the men, sir.¡± He hummed and nodded. ¡°True. Very true. They¡¯ve been good sports about it, but they¡¯re certainly due some back pay. I¡¯ll leave the sale of these junkers to you, commander. You can deliver the good news yourself. And if we¡¯ve got enough left over, perhaps look into getting some libations for the men and speak with the captains of the other ships to see how long we¡¯re going to be in port, when we get to where we¡¯re going. They¡¯ve earned some shore leave and a chance to unwind.¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡±
Twenty-four hours in the air and an hour on the ground to refuel later, I listened over the headset as Jorge negotiated our landing at the Imperial Army Air Field in Berun. ¡°Roger that, Murder Inc. You¡¯re clear to land on runway two. We¡¯ll send a truck out to have you gassed up as soon as you¡¯ve got her parked. Welcome to Berun. Allied Control out.¡± ¡°Understood, Allied Control.¡± Edwina breathed a sigh of relief. ¡°Whew! They bought it!¡± ¡°Let¡¯s hope it stays that way,¡± I muttered. ¡°The local airspace is swarming with Unified States aerial mages. I don¡¯t like our chances if we have to fight our way out.¡± ¡°Who are you kidding, colonel? You¡¯ll be fine! The rest of us, not so much,¡± Visha chuckled. ¡°Mm. Well, from here on, we¡¯re operating under full magic restriction. If we set off their detection network, there¡¯s no way they won¡¯t recognize us both. So, let¡¯s just keep our heads down.¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± Briefly, I considered changing clothes. Not just because mine were rumpled and slept in, but simply out of habit. I was back in the capital and the urge to go out in uniform was an old, familiar habit. I quickly crushed that desire, however. As much as I wanted to, being out of uniform was much more useful to me at the moment. Out of uniform and with my hair down, it would be difficult to connect me to the Devil of the Rhine¡ªespecially when, according to Ugar, all the reports said I was dead. Child soldiers were rare enough, but seeing one come back from the dead? No. Someone would surely have to be mistaken if they thought they saw the Devil of the Rhine walking around the Imperial Capital again. Visha quickly stood as we touched down, opening her suitcase and starting to change into a fresh uniform. I respectfully turned away, though I did catch some glimpses of her very fit body in the reflection from the window beside me. She¡¯s put on a nice tan. Brasa has been good for her. Once she was suitably dressed, we waited for our plane to come to a stop. As we did, I quickly opened up my own suitcase and dug out my uniform. Then, I picked out off the rank insignia and handed them to her. ¡°Congratulations on your promotion, colonel. Remember, we need to contact Ugar and check the status on Schugel.¡± Visha nodded at my side, changing out her rank insignia. ¡°Maybe we can offer him and his wife a ride out?¡± I considered it for a moment before nodding. ¡°Of course. If we¡¯re stopped¡ªwhich we probably will be¡ªyou¡¯re a diplomatic envoy from Brasa. There should be enough confusion to just bull our way through. Just act like you¡¯re in charge.¡± ¡°Act like I¡¯m you?¡± she teased, and I nodded. ¡°Yes, actually. The engine pitch changed and the plane slowed to a stop. Before the engines had even fully shut off, Edwina came back from the cockpit with a grin. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go!¡± ¡°You¡¯re not coming,¡± I shook my head. ¡°It¡¯s too dangerous.¡± ¡°Awe! But¡ª¡± ¡°No buts. I promised your father I would keep you safe. Besides, we need you here. Keep an eye on the field. Chat up the ground crew. Find out what you can.¡± ¡°Tch. Fine,¡± she grumbled. ¡°At least get me a souvenir? And food!¡± I rolled my eyes and Visha giggled. ¡°If we have time.¡± Edwina opened the door and let the steps down and Visha stepped out first. I followed just behind her, taking a deep breath of fresh air. Behind us, I heard Edwina call, ¡°Jorge, empty the bucket, would you? Let¡¯s air this thing out. We¡¯re getting kinda ripe.¡± We were met on the ground a moment later by a group of men in US uniforms, driving up in a small truck. One of them was obviously an MP, while the other had the rank of second lieutenant and wore an air force uniform. The lieutenant spoke as they approached, looking confused. ¡°Who the hell are you?¡± Visha beamed a smile. ¡°Mage Colonel Viktoriya Ivanovna Serebryakov, Brasa Republican Army. Good afternoon, lieutenant.¡± The lieutenant hesitantly saluted, which Visha returned sharply. His tone changed from somewhat aggressive and demanding to that of someone who realized they may have just stepped into a political mine field. Understandable really, considering that the only obvious conclusion was that some political shit was going down. The likely conclusion was that Visha was some sort of envoy or representative of another nation here with approval from the lieutenant¡¯s own chain of command given that we had flown in in one of their own aircraft. But since he didn¡¯t have any orders and hadn¡¯t been informed of it, nor would anyone else here know anything about it, that could only mean that it was meant to be kept quiet. ¡°Ma¡¯am. May I ask what business you have here? And flying in on an American bomber?¡± ¡°You may not,¡± Visha answered happily, smile still in place. That answer must have confirmed it for the lieutenant as he simply nodded. ¡°Very well. How can we help you?¡± ¡°We need our plane refueled and rearmed. While that¡¯s happening, I need transportation to whatever passes for Imperial command these days.¡± ¡°Imperial command, ma¡¯am?¡± he asked, incredulous. Visha raised an eyebrow. ¡°Did I stutter?¡± ¡°No, ma¡¯am,¡± he shook his head. ¡°If you¡¯ll follow me, I¡¯ll take you to our Imperial contingent. They know the city better and will be able to get you there. If they give you any trouble, let us know. They¡¯re still kinda bitter about losing this war.¡± Visha laughed, though I noticed her fist twitched at her side. ¡°Yes, I imagine so! Very well, then. Let¡¯s go.¡± She reached out and laid a hand on my shoulder, pulling me along. ¡°Erm, ma¡¯am, is this really the best place for a child?¡± the lieutenant asked, glancing at me. I smiled up at him. ¡°I¡¯m not a child! I¡¯m fourteen!¡± ¡°Haha. Of course,¡± he chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s fine. She¡¯s my little sister. I figured that while we were here, she could take in the sights. There¡¯s no harm in it,¡± Visha explained as we climbed in the truck. ¡°Well, Berun is a beautiful city. I¡¯ll give the Jerries that,¡± the man nodded as the truck started moving. ¡°Excuse me. I¡¯ll get this taken care of.¡± Visha nodded and he picked up the cab radio and began speaking into it, giving orders to have Murder Inc refueled and rearmed. It was only a short ride across the air field to where a group of Imperials in uniform were stationed¡ªunarmed, I noted. There, we were handed over to our countrymen after a short but terse exchange. A couple of minutes later, we were loaded into a car with an Imperial driver. ¡°Where you going?¡± he asked in halting English. ¡°We need to see Lt. Col. Ugar, urgently,¡± I answered in Germanian. The man looked confused and Visha smiled. ¡°It¡¯s better if you don¡¯t think too hard on it.¡± ¡°Hah. Pulling a fast one on the Americans, huh? I wish you luck. Ugar, was it? Isn¡¯t he with the general staff office at central?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± I nodded. ¡°Is there still a central?¡± ¡°Well¡­ the building and its occupants are still there, yes. As to whether that actually means anything when the emperor is a political hostage and all they¡¯re allowed to do is the paperwork of getting our men home and seeing most of them discharged from the service is another matter.¡± Leaning forward in her seat, Visha asked, ¡°How bad has it been here? Are the allies treating everyone well?¡± I fell silent, letting Visha work at getting more information as I watched the scenery go by outside, taking in the people in the streets. The citizens looked¡­ defeated. Beaten down. Their spirits crushed as they went about their day, visibly just going through the motions even to my eye. And it was no wonder when I could see American, Unified Kingdom, and Russy flags flying over every building where Imperial flags had once flown. Just as effective at demoralization as flying our flag in Moskva was. No, more, because it¡¯s been ongoing and there¡¯s nothing they can do about it. They wait here, the Sword of Damocles hanging over them, knowing that judgment will come any day now for the crime of losing a war that they didn¡¯t start, the common man thought little to nothing of or wanted nothing with, and if they could have chosen they would have not engaged in. They will be punished and they know it. Whether that be financially or by the Americans and Brits leaving and turning a blind eye to the commies raping, murdering, and pillaging the capital as they have the towns and villages along the border remains to be seen. And why? Because Legadonia¡¯s economy was in a slump, they had a regime change, and the new nationalists decided to do some saber rattling and try to claim the disputed Norden territory as their own, violating the Treaty of Londinium. They invaded. They put boots on the ground first and told us that if we did not retreat or surrender to the approaching Entente Alliance army, we would be killed. We were well within our rights to defend our territory, per the Treaty of Londinium! We were legally in the clear! Declaring war when the enemy had already engaged in acts of war upon us, mobilizing the army, and then taking the enemy out was a measured, reasoned, proportional response! You cannot sleep beside a rabid dog. If you aren¡¯t willing to accept the consequences of losing, then you shouldn¡¯t attack someone. That¡¯s just common sense! Legadonia cried for help when they had no right to, when they themselves were the aggressors! It¡¯s like an annoying little brat deciding he wants to pick on the biggest kid in the class, who then acts surprised when he gets knocked to the floor and beaten soundly in retaliation, to make sure he doesn¡¯t do it again. He goes crying to his friends, who themselves are afraid of the larger boy, so they all gang up on him. Except, instead of falling under their numbers, he beats them back, one by one, thrashing them just as soundly as he had the first. Then, these bullies cry foul to their larger friends. ¡®Help us!¡¯ they cry. ¡®He¡¯s beating us up! If you don¡¯t stop him, he¡¯ll come for you next!¡¯ And so, panic sets in. The crowd turns on the innocent lad, and eventually drags him to the ground under their weight and beats him bloody. Then, they have the gall to try to punish the boy who was minding his own business when all of this started, and whose only crime was defending himself too well. It makes me sick. At least, that¡¯s how it looks from the inside. From the outside looking in, I believe I see the strings of Being X¡¯s manipulations. Where he could have put words in someone¡¯s ear and spurred them on. It wouldn¡¯t even take much. And that¡¯s assuming he got directly involved. I know he, or one of his ilk, did with Schugel, and with myself on multiple occasions. He explicitly stated that he wanted me to suffer, but also that he wanted to increase faith, because it was dying out. Because humanity had gotten fat and happy, lazy, and forgotten what hardship was like. Forgotten to give thanks for everything those self-proclaimed ¡®gods¡¯ had done for us. If they wanted praise, they should have stood up and taken credit for their work! Everyone knows that if you don¡¯t take credit for your work, either it will go unremarked entirely or worse, someone else will take credit for it! And what makes a man pray more than fear of death? As the saying goes, there are no atheists in the trenches. War. I hate it. It¡¯s such a waste. Of human lives, money, time, and effort that could be better spent doing anything else. If only everyone were as reasonable as me and could sit down and talk things out like rational, thinking human beings instead of flailing about, crying out in pain as they strike those they call ¡®enemy,¡¯ while attempting to fill their own coffers on the spoils of war. And yet¡­ And yet, even here and now, looking out at a broken people, I saw not my homeland brought to its knees, but opportunity. A chance to sweep in, galvanize them, and turn them to a new purpose. To revolutionize the nation, the moment the allies turned their greedy eyes away. Our manufacturing capability and our civilians had been left mostly intact. A people who had been brought so low, and unjustly so, could easily be rallied¡ªstirred to a great, furious anger. I suppose I¡¯ve changed. I am as this war has made me. I no longer think once, let alone twice, at the act of repurposing a communist into fertilizer, where he¡¯ll be more useful. I guess I shouldn¡¯t be surprised that when I see them like this, all I can see is scattered cogs from a great machine and think¡­ ¡®I could put it back together and make it better.¡¯ I considered it for a moment. Entertained the idea of coming back in five or ten years, a veteran and hero returned home. Rallying the people, lighting a fire in their hearts, stirring up their national pride as Germans, and returning Germany to its status as a super power. Perhaps even surpassing the US and UK in manufacturing and technology. It was possible, especially if I could find some brilliant minds to put ideas into, sharing the ideas of technology from my old world. It would be great. But we¡¯ve seen where that leads. If you look at what happened with the rise of Germany after the first world war, if you took out everything to do with Hitler but kept the financial policies and the social projects the country advanced, removed all of the bad and kept only the good, it still wouldn¡¯t matter. America, Britain, and the Russy Federation won¡¯t suffer a super power in central Europe. A nation on par with the UK or US, capable of interfering with land-based trade routes. They would find some excuse to attack, eventually. There are only three possible outcomes from there. No, four. The first: Germany surrenders early. We¡¯re saddled with even greater crippling debt than after the first World War. They¡¯ll disarm us and make us sign some treaty at gunpoint keeping our own country from issuing arms to our troops. We would become a vassal state to what would likely become a larger European Union. The second: Germany wins against the first attacker, only to see a repeat of this war, where every other country neighboring us dogpiles us, then cries for help from the other big nations. At which point, they¡¯ll probably cripple us physically in addition to financially, most likely by destroying our manufacturing base. We would never recover. Which is the point. Or the third: we develop nuclear technology, for real. We start testing it before war is declared. We allow ¡®leaks¡¯ to get out about how many nukes we¡¯re building. From there, we would likely see a repeat of the Cold War, potentially on three fronts instead of two. Instead of East vs West, it would be the West, vs the Russy, vs Germany. And finally, the worst: nuclear holocaust. M.A.D.. Seeing proof that we¡¯ve developed nuclear capability scares someone into making a first strike and taking us out. We launch retaliatory strikes. The Russy Federation, not wanting to feel left out, fire off theirs. And so on, and so forth. We all die in a blaze of ignominy. No. If someone else wants it, they can have it. I wish them luck. I¡¯ll stick to playing soldier of fortune in Brasa. Far, far away from the threat of being on someone¡¯s First Strike list. The men may be disappointed about not coming home, but given enough time, I think they¡¯ll give up on it. I just need to sit back, take care of business, and watch how things play out here. Yes, we¡¯ll make our fortune off of war, but at least we¡¯ll choose which wars to fight, whose, and for how much. History has shown that small military actions like what we can offer actually save lives, by preventing a larger war from breaking out. So really, we¡¯re doing the world a favor! The car pulled to a stop, drawing me from my thoughts. From the front, the driver announced, ¡°We¡¯re here.¡± ¡°Thank you. Would you mind waiting for us?¡± Visha asked with a smile, and the man nodded. ¡°Sure thing.¡± ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s go,¡± I opened the door and stepped out onto the street. One last time, to walk the halls that had become almost a second home for me. 08 A Young Girl¡¯s Outer Heaven 08
Commissioned by Sneaky.
¡°Enter,¡± Lt. Col. Ugar¡¯s voice called from the other side of the door at the sound of my knock. I stepped inside followed by Visha, who closed the door behind us. Ugar looked up from his paperwork and, for a moment, he looked as though he had seen a ghost. Then he stood and hurried over, dropping to one knee and pulling me into a tight hug. ¡°You¡¯re alive! I thought perhaps I had drank too much, or had some sort of fever dream after I spoke with you on the phone.¡± He let go and backed away and I gave him a smile. ¡°Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated.¡± ¡°Haha! Yes, so it would appear!¡± Ugar laughed, standing up and turning to greet Visha, with another hug. ¡°Welcome home, Lt. Col. von Degurechaff, Maj. Serebryakov.¡± He looked down at Visha¡¯s rank insignia and raised an eyebrow. ¡°It seems you¡¯ve gone up a few ranks?¡± ¡°Ahaha~ no~! I borrowed the colonel¡¯s insignia for this part of the mission,¡± Visha explained with a laugh. ¡°I¡¯m only just a captain now.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± He looked between the two of us and asked, ¡°And how is that working out?¡± ¡°Well. May we sit?¡± ¡°Ah, I¡¯m sorry! Pardon my manners. Of course, sit, sit,¡± he gestured for us to be seated and moved behind his desk. ¡°So you¡¯ve come for Schugel, then?¡± ¡°We have,¡± I confirmed with a nod. ¡°Where is he?¡± ¡°At the moment? Being held in ¡®protective custody¡¯ at the Imperial Army Air Base here in the city.¡± I resisted the urge to curse that we had been so close and missed him, practically walking right past him. But we couldn¡¯t have known, so I let it go. ¡°I see. And the Americans haven¡¯t left with him yet?¡± ¡°Not according to my contacts, no. They¡¯re hunting down the last of Professor Schugel¡¯s team.¡± ¡°That¡¯s great news!¡± Visha smiled. ¡°We¡¯re not too late,¡± I sighed thankfully. ¡°In that case, we can afford to take a bit of time to prepare and maneuver. Did you manage to contact my men¡¯s families, after Viktoriya gave you their information?¡± ¡°I did,¡± Ugar nodded. ¡°I had the whole department on it and even managed to scrounge up enough funds to be able to put those that couldn¡¯t afford it on a ship. They¡¯re bound for Brasa in three waves¡ªalong with some freshly retired soldiers and their families, looking for work.¡± ¡°Good. We can always use more experienced men willing to work. Especially with the commies kicking around on the south of the continent,¡± I nodded. ¡°So, I wasn¡¯t misreading your message,¡± he murmured, nodding. ¡°What will you do about them?¡± ¡°Whatever I¡¯m paid to do,¡± I grinned, and he laughed. ¡°Haha! You¡¯re a real soldier of fortune now, then. How¡¯s the economy down there?¡± ¡°Honestly? Ripe for the taking. If I had a corps of engineers, I could take over the country and have it up to Imperial standards inside of a decade.¡± Humming, Ugar leaned back in his seat with a grin. ¡°As it so happens, many men from the engineering corps were among those sent your way.¡± ¡°Really?¡± I sat up excitedly. ¡°Ah, the things we could do. The country is fifty years behind the empire, but they have enough of a manufacturing base to jump start things. We could start laying rail and phone lines, get the whole country connected, and set up our own interior lines strategy¡­¡± Looking up, I met his eyes and said, ¡°You know¡­ I could use a man of your expertise. We came here on a bomber we bought. The ride won¡¯t exactly be the most comfortable, but there is plenty of room for you, your wife, and daughter.¡± Ugar smiled and picked up his phone, already beginning to dial. ¡°I had hoped you would make the offer. I had my wife prepare. They¡¯ve been sitting at home waiting for this call¡ª¡± He paused and held up his hand. ¡°Yes dear, it¡¯s me. It¡¯s time. I¡¯ll meet you at the gate to the air base. Oh, and bring some pillows to sit on¡ª¡± ¡°Blankets, food, and drink too. It¡¯s going to be a long flight, and it was cold,¡± Visha advised. Ugar nodded and quickly added, ¡°Blankets, food, and drink as well. Expect a long flight. See you soon.¡± With that, he hung up. As soon as he did, Visha asked, ¡°What about the rest of the general staff?¡± ¡°Zettour and Lergen won¡¯t leave. There are a few people who might be convinced to. Organizational staff that would help smooth things along. No one who really needs a flight out, though. They could depart on a ship.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s spread the word quickly, then depart. I want to get back to the air field as soon as possible.¡± With that, Visha and I stood, and Ugar gathered up a briefcase that had been waiting beside his desk before joining us. We took a quick tour of the office, where we were greeted with more surprise at being alive and warm welcomes, as we quickly spread the message. Then, we made our way out front and back into the car waiting for us. ¡°So, what story are we going to tell the Americans?¡± Ugar asked once we were underway. ¡°Simple. You¡¯re a defector,¡± I shrugged. ¡°We¡¯re hiring you to help organize and construct our railway.¡± Reaching up and tapping the driver on the shoulder, I said, ¡°Take us through the market. I¡¯d like to pick up a few things.¡± After a quick detour to get some wine, chocolate, sausage, cheese, and bread¡ªand a selection of things for the officers back in Brasa, as a little taste of home¡ªwe eventually pulled into the air field parking lot, where we found Max¡¯s wife waiting. He waved for her to follow and Visha directed the car out to our runway, where we found the MP and lieutenant waiting, the lieutenant sitting at a small folding table playing a game of cards against Edwina and Jorge as we pulled up¡ªthough, from the look of things, Jorge was out already and it was down to Edwina and the lieutenant. ¡°Oh, colonel, welcome back. That was faster than I thought it would be,¡± the man greeted, but didn¡¯t get up from the table. Instead, he pushed a pack of cigarettes into the pile of money and things in the middle. ¡°All in.¡± The game ended quickly after that, with Edwina collecting her winnings as Ugar got his wife and daughter into the plane and settled, while I acted the part of the obedient little sister and helped load up our supplies and goodies. Soon enough, Visha was able to talk the lieutenant and MP into leaving and we settled in to wait, after Ugar told our driver to go check to see if Schugel¡¯s plane had left yet and to inform him when it was getting ready for takeoff. While we waited, I made my way back into the plane, looking over where Max and his wife and daughter were going to be seated in relation to the back door of the plane. I found some rope and secured our things, then made some extra straps for our passengers. Eventually, the driver came roaring back up the road from the office just as the sun was beginning to set. He had barely gotten stopped good when he threw open his door. ¡°Lt. Col. Ugar! They¡¯re moving the prisoners!¡± ¡°Thank you. Do you know what runway?¡± Edwina and Jorge collected the cards and left the table and chairs there, rushing up into Murder Inc and into the cockpit. Visha quickly followed after. I waited long enough to hear the full report from the driver, before Max and I hurried up into the plane as well. ¡°Hey boss, we¡¯ve got radio chatter. American Spirit and First In are getting ready to take off, but they¡¯re calling in different flight paths. Which one should we follow?¡± ¡°What are the destinations?¡± ¡°Washington D.C. and Norfolk, Virginia.¡± I considered for a moment before nodding. ¡°D.C.. They¡¯re probably going to debrief Schugel there, while they send his team ahead. Wait five minutes, then put in a flight plan to New York. That should be enough time that they¡¯re still in radio range to hear the transmission, but far enough behind that it doesn¡¯t look like were following them. Then put us on a course to overtake them over the Atlantic.¡± ¡°Gotcha, boss lady. Alright everyone! Last chance to stretch your legs or take a smoke break. Once we seal her up, no smoking on my bird!¡± ¡°Aye, aye, senora,¡± Jorge grumbled and stood, heading outside. Max joined him a moment later. I didn¡¯t smoke, but I took the opportunity to socialize and headed back outside, where I found that Max and Jorge had apparently traded cigarettes¡ªJorge finding the German made stuff to his liking, while Max looked a bit ill. ¡°So, tell me about this railway business,¡± Max said, tossing away the borrowed cigarette and pulling another of his own from the case in his pocket while Jorge chuckled. Nearby, on another runway, we turned to watch as two American transport aircraft took off. ¡°That will be them, then.¡± It had just been a spur of the moment thing, but now that he asked, I took a moment to put some actual thought into it. Thinking over the map of Brasa, I hummed. ¡°I think it would be best to start with a line along the coast, and lines to our nearest neighboring cities¡ªSao Domingo and Santa Maria. After we kick the commies out. It should be easy enough to hire locals to do most of the work¡ªthere¡¯s a large under-class there that we can take advantage of. Much of this should just require simple, unskilled labor. Offer them long term, decently paying jobs, and they become company men overnight. We¡¯ll need to actually build some trains, but those aren¡¯t much good without rails. After that, we look at getting rails to strategic positions within the country for troop deployment and shipping materials. What do you think about laying parallel tracks?¡± ¡°Hm?¡± Max asked, perking up at the idea. ¡°Two tracks side by side?¡± ¡°Yes. With regular switching between them so trains can move along wither. Here in the empire, we had to rely on switchbacks and stations to turn trains around or move them out of the way for oncoming trains. A single-lane highway is inefficient. It would be much more efficient to have two lanes and build our stations up around that concept.¡± ¡°Mm. Yes, I see how that would speed things along,¡± he murmured. ¡°The initial cost and time spent setting them up would be greater, but it seems like the payout would be worth it.¡± ¡°Not to mention, making it easier to deploy train guns while also retaining the ability to move cargo and people around them as needed.¡± Max nodded. ¡°Yes. Yes, I can see it.¡± Murder Inc¡¯s engines roared to life and I sighed. ¡°That¡¯s our signal to go.¡± The men crushed out their cigarettes and we piled back into the plane. After sealing everything up and getting strapped in, Edwina got us into the air. Once we leveled off, I moved up and consulted with her for a few minutes, checking maps to be sure and running the numbers as she used our radar readings to precisely tell the target planes¡¯ speed. ¡°We¡¯ll share the same flight path for several hours, before first one, then the other breaks off to head to their destinations. It¡¯s the second plane we¡¯re after. We¡¯ll overtake them before they¡¯re scheduled to break off for D.C.. I¡¯ve got us cruising five hundred feet above their altitude and we¡¯re going just a little faster, so it¡¯ll really just look like we¡¯re passing above them until it¡¯s too late for them to do anything about it. We should make contact in about five hours¡ª¡± ¡°Boss lady!¡± Jorge called out to get our attention, and I looked over. He tapped the radar. ¡°One of the planes has broken off. They¡¯re turning east!¡±Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°East?¡± I asked, confused. ¡°Heading back?¡± ¡°No, senora. It looks like they¡¯re accelerating.¡± ¡°Why¡­¡± ¡°First In, return to your previous course and heading,¡± the American Spirit transmitted. A few moments later, they transmitted again, ¡°First In, what¡¯s happening?¡± ¡°Huh. That¡¯s not good for whoever¡¯s on that plane,¡± I murmured. ¡°Allied Control Berun, this is American Spirit. We suspect that First In has been hijacked. That plane is carrying assets vital to American national security. Scramble fighters to intercept immediately. If you can¡¯t force them to land, you must bring that plane down before they cross into Federation airspace.¡± ¡°Really not good. Any change on American Spirit?¡± ¡°None,¡± Jorge shook his head. ¡°Alright, stay on course. The operation¡¯s still on.¡± I left the cockpit and moved to sit with the others, dropping onto a pillow that Mrs. Ugar had brought. Max leaned forward in his seat and asked, ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± ¡°The commies have decided they weren¡¯t satisfied with the division of spoils. Looks like they¡¯ve hijacked one of the planes and they¡¯re running for Federation territory.¡± Max and Visha both winced. ¡°Ma¡¯am, if the Russy get their hands on Professor Schugel¡¯s men¡­¡± ¡°Nothing we can do about it, captain,¡± I shook my head. With a sigh, I continued. ¡°It¡¯s not our problem.¡± But even as I said the words, I had the feeling that they may one day come back to bite me¡­
¡°We¡¯re ready,¡± Visha called as I finished zipping up my flight suit. I checked to make sure my sidearm, combat knife, and a single grenade were in place, before moving towards the back of the plane. ¡°Alright. Time on target?¡± Visha relayed the question to Edwina before coming back with an answer. ¡°One minute!¡± ¡°Seal it up behind me, then drop to five thousand and slow to one-fifty!¡± Visha nodded, then held up her hand to indicate thirty seconds. Reaching out, I took hold of the door handle. ¡°BRACE!¡± The door popped open under my strength and freezing cold wind whipped into the cabin as it abruptly depressurized. There was a scream from further in the cabin, but I ignored it. Bracing myself in the doorway, I waited as the wind tried to yank me from the plane. Outside, behind and below, I could just make out the red and green lights on American Spirit¡¯s wings. Visha slapped me on the back and I leapt out into the void. I tucked into a fast dive to clear the plane, before spreading out my arms and legs, angling my body for the other plane as I fell. My heart pounded in my chest and my face hurt from the grin pulling at my lips. Ah~, it¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve done something really exciting! An unpowered dive into an enemy aircraft doesn¡¯t top riding a V2 for insane, but it¡¯s pretty far up the list. American Spirit drew closer and closer as I minutely adjusted my fall. Only seconds away from impact, I flipped around onto my back, feet towards the enemy, and pulled my weapons. I aimed my pistol at the cockpit and the Luger spat four rounds into the wind shield¡ªtwo where the co-pilot sat, before shifting over to put two into the pilot. Then, the plane was on me. I tucked my arms in and braced, reinforcing my body with internal magic that wouldn¡¯t register on sensors, closing my eyes as I slammed feet-first into the damaged windshield. Glass shattered around me and filled the cockpit, shredding the pilot and co-pilot, if they weren¡¯t already dead from gunshot. My feet slammed into the cockpit door, leading deeper into the plane. The door slammed off its hinges, breaking the lock, and sending me and it flying back into the rear of the plane¡ªarresting most, but not all, of my momentum. The man who had apparently gotten up to check the door just a second before did the rest as he was crushed under the door. The world slowed to a crawl around me as magical combat stimulants kicked in and I took in the interior of the plane. Glass shards glinted like diamonds as they abruptly filled the cabin. The arm of a black suited man beneath the door as he fell to the floor under the force of a door slamming into him at about a hundred miles an hour. To my left and right, a pair of similarly suited men whose bearing screamed ¡®Fed Boy,¡¯ the one on the left in the motions of standing, the one on the right registering shock as his eyes met mine. Further back towards the middle of the craft, a squad of six military police armed to the teeth, already beginning to stand. In the very back, seated beside another suited man, was the all too unfortunately familiar form of Schugel, grinning like a loon as he watched. I was moving before they could fully muster a response. My right arm came up with my sidearm and put two rounds in the man to my right, while I slammed the combat knife home in the leg of the fed, perhaps proto-CIA agent, on my left. The knife acted as an anchor, allowing me to use my momentum to whip my body around and up, letting go of the pistol to grab the man¡¯s hair in my now free hand as the knife was wrenched from his leg. I slammed the blade into his throat and back out and let go, dropping to the ground as he collapsed into his seat and held his bleeding wound. Spotting the pistol in the holster under his left arm, I reached under his open suit jacket and jerked it out. The six MPs were up and bringing weapons to bear as I launched myself towards them, low and fast. The one in the lead opened fire, but reflexes ingrained by years of high speed, life or death aerial combat told me he was firing wildly and none of the shots would hit. I came up inside the reach of his arms, using his body as a springboard, I launched myself up and over, planting the pistol to the side of his skull and pulling the trigger, before sweeping it around and catching the next two on my right with shots to the chest and face, respectively. Landing on the man in the middle left knees first, I brought the combat knife down in the side of his neck as I rode him to the ground and rolled away, jerking my blade out and bringing it down to slam into the booted foot of the last MP. He howled for just a moment before I put him out of his misery with a bullet from under the jaw. The last fed had stood and drawn his weapon, taking up a shooter¡¯s stance between me and Schugel as he aimed down the sights at me. ¡°Don¡¯t fucking mo¡ª¡± I stood and threw the knife in one practiced motion, and he went down with a gurgle as he clutched his throat. Walking the rest of the way up to him, I reclaimed my knife, cleaned it off, and put him out of his misery. ¡°Wonderful! Well done! I knew you would come for me!¡± Schugel laughed, clapping his hands from his seat, looking entirely too smug. ¡°Ah, Herr Doktor,¡± I sent the man a smile and he only grinned wider. ¡°I¡¯ve waited a very long time for the opportunity to put a bullet in your head. Give me one good reason why I shouldn¡¯t, and leave you to end up on the bottom of the Atlantic.¡± ¡°You wound me, frauline!¡± he held a hand to his check mockingly. ¡°Very well, if it is a reason you want¡­ You inspired me!¡± ¡°Eh?¡± ¡°I knew what you did, the moment the Americans described their readings on various magical detection arrays to me. All that mana, fixed in place within the Type 95. You released it, all at once. The effect was not dissimilar to a new weapon they¡¯ve been testing, if the information gleaned from my interrogation of them is correct.¡± Your interrogation of them, huh? I mused, looking the man over and noting his bruised, disheveled, generally roughed up state. ¡°A weapon like no other, that harnesses the power of the very atom itself to unleash the nuclear forces held within! An atom bomb! Or a nuclear bomb, if you prefer,¡± he shrugged, before scoffing. ¡°Completely inferior to my work, of course. A bit of tablecloth math during my confinement showed that such a weapon would leave the land polluted, leaking unbound atoms all over the place for decades to come¡ªlike tiny, invisible bullets directly attacking the cells of your body, poisoning you from the outside in, and inside out. Worthless. No, much safer to simply reproduce a mana weapon like the one you set off¡­ and survived.¡± The mad genius had already deduced what I had done and devised a super weapon, just from some descriptions of instrument readouts and a few scant details some idiots had let slip while they were interrogating him. I couldn¡¯t honestly say I hadn¡¯t expected it, but to have it confirmed¡­ Fuck. There really was no other appropriate response. Then for the good of the world, I have to¡ª ¡°I could build you one.¡± I blinked up at him. ¡°Come again?¡± ¡°I could construct one easily. Now that I¡¯ve had experience building the Type 95, the divine revelations that allowed me to produce a quad-core computation orb, the data gathered over your operational time using it and learning to fix mana, I could easily construct a device that absorbs mana from the atmosphere and artificially fixes it in place. Small, cheap and easy to produce, environmentally friendly, none of the long term effects of a nuclear weapon, fueled by ambient mana, growing stronger the longer they¡¯re stored. You¡¯ve moved to Brasa, yes? I¡¯ve heard they may have rich, untapped Elenium mines¡­¡± Of course he could. Fuck. There really was no other appropriate response. Well, looks like we¡¯re going to become the world¡¯s first magical-nuclear armed power. I holstered my stolen sidearm and grabbed him by the arm. ¡°Come along.¡± Schugel chuckled as I led him back to the rear door of the plane. He kept laughing all the way as I opened the door and threw him out into open air. Taking out the one grenade I¡¯d brought with me, I pulled the pin and tossed it towards the cockpit before jumping out after him. I caught up with Schugel and tackled him in midair as the plane exploded into a fireball. Angling for where I could make out Murder Inc¡¯s lights below, I spun up a flight formula and brought us in ahead of the plane. Edwina waved through the cockpit window and I pulled alongside the bomber, dropping back to the rear door. A moment later, Visha opened it up and I shoved Schugel in, before climbing in after and slamming the door closed. ¡°Get us out of here! Change course, we can refuel somewhere further south!¡± Visha nodded and relayed my orders to the cockpit as I followed Schugel up to where he had joined Max and his family. He eagerly dug into the food and wine as I sat down across from him and began the debrief. Grabbing a couple of headsets, I handed him one as Max pulled one on and Visha handed me hers. ¡°Alright, I need to know what you¡¯ve told the Americans.¡± ¡°Nothing they didn¡¯t already know,¡± the man answered, shrugging as he made himself a small sandwich of cheese and summer sausage. ¡°They had Imperial records and access to some of my work on the Elenium Type-95 and 97, along with the V2. They were convinced that I had built an atom bomb, or some magical equivalent, and that you, Lt. Col. von Degurechaff, had smuggled it out of the country, sought out an Atlantic carrier group, and detonated it as a test¡ªand a warning.¡± Schugel grinned as he stuffed his face, then drank directly from the bottle of wine. ¡°I didn¡¯t disabuse them of this notion!¡± ¡°So, the Americans really are developing something similar?¡± Max asked, and Schugel and I both nodded. ¡°How dangerous would one of these weapons be?¡± ¡°Mm, that depends. They would have to refine some metal like uranium or plutonium into higher energy isotopes. Perhaps uranium, oh¡­ 235? Or Plutonium 239. At least, that¡¯s what the little dabbling I¡¯ve done in the matter showed would yield good results for a first test. Depending on the purity and size of the material, you¡¯re looking at a blast in the range of several thousand tons of TNT. Kilo-tons, if you will.¡± ¡°Can you put that into something I can visualize?¡± Max asked. ¡°Hmm. Very well! Imagine, if you will, an American bomber flying over Berun. It releases a bomb that falls right over the center of the city. It detonates at, oh¡­ a thousand feet up. Everything within one mile would be destroyed by the initial blast. Every person, killed by a wave of solid air pressure. Flattened. Splattered. As though hit by a truck. Assuming the initial burst of energy, of heat and light, didn¡¯t simply turn them to little more than vapor and leave nothing but their shadows burned into their surroundings. The blast would super heat the air, creating a fireball, which would then catch everything flammable alight, creating a firestorm that could be lethal up to about two or three miles. Then, there would be a poisonous cloud of ash and smoke, completely contaminated by the loose atoms and energy, which would radiate out more of the same wherever it landed. Depending on which way the wind blew, it could poison the entire countryside for generations to come. As far as Paris, Moskva, or even Londinium. I have no idea of the long term effects of exposure to people an animals, aside from death at higher doses. Painful, lingering death, within days.¡± ¡°By all that¡¯s holy,¡± Max muttered. ¡°And the Americans want to make this?¡± ¡°Want to? If they don¡¯t already have one, they¡¯re close,¡± Schugel shook his head. ¡°A weapon that destroys cities and blights whatever nation is struck for potentially hundreds or thousands of miles. It¡¯s¡­ a weapon meant to instill terror into the hearts of their enemies.¡± ¡°Exactly,¡± I nodded. ¡°Once the Americans have them, no one would dare attack them, for fear of getting nuclear weapons dropped on their heads. Combine that with the V2, or a launch vehicle even more powerful, and you could launch missiles between continents. Nuclear armed inter-continental ballistic missiles. The Americans could fire one from California and hit Moskva. With enough, they could target every city in Europe. Any serious conflict with them would carry the promise of assured destruction to anyone foolish enough to try. The only way to counter it would be to develop nuclear ICBMs of your own, make sure they knew you had them, and promise to launch on them if they launched on you. This way, destruction would be mutually assured. They won¡¯t fire first, because there would be enough time for you to return fire, and you wind up killing each other.¡± Max looked pale as a sheet. ¡°Then whoever controlled such a nuclear arsenal would effectively control the world.¡± ¡°¡°Effectively,¡±¡± Schugel and I said at the same time, before the scientist turned a grin on me. ¡°Tell me, Lt. Col. von Degurechaff¡ª¡± ¡°It¡¯s full colonel now,¡± I corrected. ¡°I¡¯m one of two people in charge of our little mercenary band.¡± Turning a look on Max, I said, ¡°If you want the position, I¡¯d gladly have you in charge of rail development and logistics as our third colonel.¡± Max chuckled and nodded. ¡°Certainly.¡± ¡°Yes, yes,¡± Schugel waved us off. ¡°Col. von Degurechaff. Tell me. What was it like, being inside a magical explosion of that magnitude? How did you survive?¡± Max looked confused and I sighed. ¡°Painful. As though every nerve in my body caught fire all at once. My body was literally burned away to nothing, leaving only my will holding my magic together. The blast was large enough to take out the entire carrier group. Perhaps one or two kilotons, maybe more. I would need to look at my unit¡¯s readings to tell. As for how I survived¡­¡± I grinned. ¡°Stubborn spite. I pulled my magic back together and somehow reformed a body.¡± ¡°That¡¯s impossible,¡± Max whispered. ¡°Improbable,¡± Schugel corrected. ¡°The entire 203rd have flight recordings on their computation orbs. You can look over it for yourselves when we get back to base.¡± ¡°I¡¯d like to run some tests,¡± Schugel said, looking at me with that old, crazy look in his eyes. For a moment, I briefly considered just putting a bullet in him and tossing him out the back of the plane. The mission would still be a success, as long as he didn¡¯t fall into enemy hands¡­ But the temptation of being able to dissuade a direct attack with the threat of our own ICBMs is too good to pass up, I mentally sighed, consigning myself to being poked and prodded. And it wasn¡¯t as though I hadn¡¯t been considering having someone look me over after the incident. The problem was, there was no one qualified, to my knowledge. In fact, Schugel might be the best qualified person. And wasn¡¯t that a terrifying thought? ¡°Very well. Nothing invasive,¡± I warned, glaring at the man in threat. ¡°Of course, of course. A few readings with some equipment, a few samples¡­¡± ¡°What kind of samples?¡± ¡°Why, everything!¡± Schugel grinned. ¡°Hair, tissue, blood, urine, fecal¡ª¡± The door is right there. No one could stop me¡­ 09 A Young Girl¡¯s Outer Heaven 09
Commissioned by Sneaky.
¡°Fresh air,¡± I sighed, stretching as I stepped off of Murder Inc, onto hot tarmac. The air was thick and humid. Not nearly as nice as it was in Germany, but it beat being cooped up in a plane for nearly two days since leaving Germany. ¡°Ma¡¯am! Welcome back!¡± one of my aerial mages snapped off a salute from nearby, standing beside a group of cars and trucks. ¡°Thank you. I need you to take Col. Ugar and his family, along with Dr. Schugel, and get them situated in the base. Capt. Serebryakov, please go with them and get them what they need for their quarters, then accompany Dr. Schugel and find a suitable lab space for him, and make a list of equipment he needs. I need to speak with the governor.¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± Visha saluted, and led Max, his wife and daughter, and Schugel to the vehicles where they began to load up our luggage and goodies. Gesturing for Edwina to follow, I got us a car and a driver, and had them take us up to the governor¡¯s mansion, but not before Edwina gave Jorge the order to have Murder Inc checked out, refueled, and moved off to the side with the other planes for storage. As we traveled, I asked her, ¡°Should we have those planes in individual hangars?¡± ¡°Oh, absolutely,¡± she nodded. ¡°We¡¯ll put tarps over them for now, but I¡¯ll talk to grandpa and papa and see about getting some sheds built to house them.¡± ¡°Mm.¡± I studied her for a moment and she turned in her seat, turning an amused look on me. ¡°Something on my face?¡± ¡°I was thinking. You said you wanted to be our personal pilot.¡± ¡°That¡¯s right!¡± she nodded. ¡°Papa has his own business. I figure, I take one or two of the bombers for myself, and start my own business, ferrying you and your people around. A private company, with my own mechanics and crew, separate from your people.¡± ¡°And how do you think the chain of command would work, there?¡± The girl grinned. ¡°You tell me where you want to go, when, and how fast, and I take you there. I don¡¯t salute and I don¡¯t kiss your ass. I bill you for fuel, labor, ammo, maintenance, and modifications.¡± ¡°You should pay for your own maintenance¡ª¡± ¡°And I¡¯ll just raise the labor cost to pass that cost on to you, so you can either pay it up front and honestly on an itemized bill, or as a hidden cost packed in there somewhere.¡± The girl crossed her arms over her small bust and added, ¡°You seem like the kind of person who likes straightforward, honest dealings.¡± I glared at her and Edwina glared back, light brown eyes boring into my silver-blue. Finally, I smirked. ¡°It seems you¡¯ve got me figured out. Very well. However, on the subject of modifications.¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°There are certain things I want. Extended fuel capability¡ª¡± ¡°Already on my list,¡± Edwina nodded. ¡°Better seating for my people and some bunks for sleeping.¡± ¡°On the list.¡± ¡°An ice box and entertainment. A radio, perhaps.¡± ¡°Right.¡± ¡°Also, weapons. I want at least one .50 caliber automatic rifle, preferably two, mounted inside along with a Bofors 40mm cannon. Or, if we can find one, a small 105mm howitzer.¡± Edwina whistled. ¡°What are you planning to do with it? Just¡­ do death donuts over a battlefield?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± I grinned. ¡°It¡¯s called close air support, or CAS. Mount the cannon and machine gun on the left side of the plane, then make a port pylon turn over a battlefield, range the guns over the course of a minute, then fire for effect.¡± ¡°They¡¯ve got dome turrets already. Why not use those instead of mounting another machine gun?¡± Edwina asked, though she looked intrigued by the idea. ¡°Those are for defense. We wouldn¡¯t want to leave ourselves vulnerable when it¡¯s time to make our escape.¡± ¡°Ahh,¡± she nodded. ¡°Yeah, okay. Makes sense.¡± ¡°Also, I want camera equipment. Lots of cameras. I want to be able to use them for aerial reconnaissance if we need to.¡± ¡°Can do,¡± she agreed, before muttering, ¡°I¡¯ll have to source them from America, probably. And that howitzer.¡± ¡°And finally, I need an airfield and our own private hangar on Colina. You¡¯ll bunk there, along with whatever other pilots we hire. Your mechanics can either come and go by ferry, or have their own homes built nearby. But if we want to be able to fly at a moment¡¯s notice, I need you available.¡± Edwina grinned. ¡°Papa is going to be angry that his little girl is moving out so early, but¡­ I would love to. Will you build me a house, or is this going to be some sort of military bunk thing in the hangar?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll have a small house built on the airfield and utilities run. I¡¯ll bill you for it,¡± I smirked, and she grinned. ¡°You can work it off over time.¡± ¡°A woman after my own heart,¡± she nodded. ¡°Alright, sounds good. I¡¯ll talk to papa and schedule some flights. We¡¯ll probably convert one of those bombers into a long range luxury ferry, so we can skip all of the stops any time we need to head up to the States on business. ¡­Actually, I¡¯ll just get him to give me three instead of two and do that. One for business and two for the business.¡± ¡°That would work for us.¡± We spoke a bit more about plans for the future before we came to a stop at the governor¡¯s estate. We were shown inside to his office and, the moment he saw us, he stood and made his way over to hug his granddaughter. ¡°Edwina, it¡¯s good to see you¡¯re back.¡± He looked her over for a moment and nodded, before turning a smile on me. ¡°Grandfather, I¡¯m fine,¡± she brushed him off, in the way of children embarrassed at being fussed over. ¡°I can see that. Thank you for keeping her safe, Tanya.¡± ¡°I promised I would, Pedro,¡± I waved him off, taking a seat in front of his desk. ¡°So? How did it go?¡± he asked as he dropped into his chair and Edwina took the seat beside me. ¡°It went well. Better than expected, really.¡± He nodded, signaling to his butler to bring drinks. ¡°I was worried when Luca showed up without you.¡± ¡°And papa didn¡¯t tell you where we went?¡± Edwina asked, rolling her eyes. ¡°No, it¡¯s because he told me where you went that I was worried. You flew into a war zone, after all,¡± he sent her a look that said this should be obvious. ¡°It¡¯s fine~,¡± Edwina waved his concern off. ¡°There wasn¡¯t a single shot fired. Besides, I mostly sat with the plane while waiting on Tanya. I played a game of cards and wiped the floor with some American assigned to watch us.¡± ¡°What exactly necessitated a trip to Germany?¡± he asked as the butler returned with drinks. I checked them out of habit before accepting a cool glass of iced juice. ¡°We made contact with a friend in the Empire, who told us that the Americans had taken an interest in one of our scientists and his team, so we went to either extract or neutralize him. I was able to extract him successfully, but his team were lost. To the Russy, I think.¡± Looking at him over the rim of my glass, I said, ¡°Trust me. No one wants that man in the hands of the Americans, especially not with an unlimited black budget. The world is already changing quickly enough as it is. And speaking of, we need to talk about just what it is you want. What your end goal is.¡± ¡°Peace and prosperity for Brasa. A wonderful place where my granddaughter can continue growing up, make a family of her own, and raise her children in safety and security,¡± Pedro answered immediately, leaning back in his seat. ¡°We can¡¯t do that with the communists spreading their ideological poison, the cartels enslaving our people through ¡®might makes right,¡¯ or with the existing corrupt government.¡± ¡°Ah,¡± I smiled, understanding perfectly. ¡°Say no more.¡± The mission couldn¡¯t be clearer. Eliminate the commies and cartels, and gut the corrupt government of Brasa. The last would honestly be easier than the other two. A government was composed of a small number of people, with names and homes, public figures who weren¡¯t trying to hide¡ªnot scattered all across the country, hiding in basements and crowds. The Americans had been engaging in covert, involuntary, expedited regime changes for years now so I wouldn¡¯t be doing anything new here. Remove those in the upper echelons of power. Host an emergency election. Campaign for governor Vazquez to be elected president. Do some ballot tampering¡ªI mean, ¡®fortification.¡¯ Scare off any real competition, eliminate anyone the commies try to slip in. Get Pedro in office, then clean house. Fire everyone over a few months and replace them with people loyal to us. Then start having him push through the social and economic policies we want, while throwing money at us to help take care of the commie problem. We can expand our operations and buy new equipment, the country has a major economic boom, employment skyrockets, crime goes down, everyone wins. ¡°I spoke with Col. Ugar, one of the men I extracted from Germany, on the way over. Tell me, how does the idea of building up rail and communication infrastructure sound?¡±
I sighed as I touched down at the base and made my way inside, heading for my quarters. I just wanted a shower and to sleep a full eight hours. Physically, I wasn¡¯t tired¡ªnor was I even really sleepy. But I wanted to rest, so I would. So I was understandably a bit annoyed when, almost as soon as I made it inside, I was accosted by Weiss, who fell into step with me as I made my way towards my quarters. ¡°Col. Degurechaff, these are our reports for the time you¡¯ve been gone,¡± he said, handing me a surprisingly hefty folder. ¡°Summarize it for me,¡± I said, opening it up and starting to flip through it absently. There were several printed photos I recognized as aerial recon shots of the two neighboring towns we¡¯d been keeping an eye on, and their growing communist infection. Behind those, mixed in with printed reports, were photos of buildings, dead bodies, equipment, and more. Someone¡¯s been busy. ¡°Intel came in after you left. We planned and executed a simultaneous attack on Santa Maria and Sao Domingos. Both cities were successfully captured. No losses on our side, one injury¡ªa broken arm from where a man tripped and fell down a flight of stairs, after everything was said and done. We set the arm and sent him for medical treatment. He¡¯ll be on light duty for a few weeks while it heals. As for the communists who had taken the cities, we managed to eliminate the bulk of their forces during the initial strike. We¡¯ve tasked the local police force with going through and sweeping for any remaining infiltrators, but who knows how effective it¡¯ll be.¡± Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°Commies are like roaches. It¡¯s impossible to get them all,¡± I sighed. ¡°As long as there aren¡¯t enough of them to organize, and we keep an eye on those cities to make sure that more don¡¯t show up, it¡¯ll be good enough for now. Good work, Weiss. We¡¯ll meet again at 0800 tomorrow and we can go over everything. We need to have a meeting anyway. Make sure all the officers know.¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± I bid him goodnight and made my way into my quarters. I took my time soaking to read over the printed reports. Eventually, I went to bed, but my mind was too busy to sleep. Visha entered and slipped into my bed, snuggling up and curling around me like I was a human dakimakura. I rolled my eyes and tried to ignore her warm body holding me tightly as she began to snore softly in my ear. Looking for something to occupy myself, I pulled up a map of the country and another of South America as a whole, projecting them as a hologram as I let my mind wander. The maps filled with reported enemy strongholds and troop movements that I was aware of, and my own group¡¯s movements and actions. More holograms of our assets joined them. Colina, my troops, our equipment, our new pilot and planes, the governor and the new mayor of Bellum. More and more information and pictures joined the glowing web above the bed as I put everything together. Until eventually, I blinked as something stood out. Bringing the visualized screen forward, I frowned. Where did I see this? Certainly not in any of the reports¡­ I focused on it and it began to play. A video I vaguely recalled seeing, some years ago. And as I watched, I remembered where I¡¯d seen it. At home, on my original Earth, one of many nights spent watching television. And from there, I remembered other things¡ªlectures from college, reading, more videos, and a project I had done titled, ¡®Communism and its Role in Creating Failed States.¡¯ I had been extremely thorough in my research for that paper¡ªprobably more than I really needed to be, looking back on it. I¡¯d gone into detail on how the fall or failure of various nations could be tied directly or indirectly to communism¡ªfrom the most obvious case of the U.S.S.R., the P.R.C., North Korea, Vietnam, Cuba, and others. But, most related to my current situation, how the infection of communism had essentially tanked the entire continent of South America, all the way up to Mexico. Communism had allowed, promoted even, the spread of the cartels and drug trade, which had poisoned those nations from within. There were other factors that led to their decline and eventual status as failed states, certainly, but communism was the major contributing factor¡ªthe infection that allowed other problems to creep in. Directly or indirectly, that ideological death cult was responsible for destroying more nations than any five wars you cared to name throughout history. But the failure of basically every nation in South America to rise above the status of ¡®second world¡¯ or ¡®developing nation¡¯ was especially egregious, given just how rich the entire continent was in resources! Venezuela and Brazil were the two largest oil producers in South America, and in fact had some of the largest oil reserves in the world. There were failed mines all over the place, untapped reserves of rare earth metals and things like lithium, due either to the terrain and no one wanting to invest in infrastructure to get to them, or due to cartels coming and taking over the mines¡ªnot to mention, blatant corruption in the running of those mines that caused them to fail. A difference in values and social mores that saw everyone from the lowliest employee up to the owner, inspectors, and so on demanding bribes or just outright stealing things. It reminded me of China¡¯s concept of ¡®face,¡¯ and how it led to problems calling anything into question¡ªbecause if you questioned how well something had been done, you also called into question all of the workers, supervisors, the inspectors, and the government itself who were supposed to oversee those inspectors, and so on and so forth, and the entire system just got in the way of getting the real work done. So it didn¡¯t matter if you could look at something and tell it was leaning, or cracked, questioning it was tantamount to social and political suicide because doing so meant questioning the entire system¡ªand you can¡¯t fight the system. But it doesn¡¯t have to be that way, does it? I mused, as I began putting points on the map where I remembered some of those mines and deposits to be, and flagging them for later investigation. Then, saving those files and moving them to the side, I cloned the current map and began running theoretical projections. I started by replacing the current president of Brasa with Pedro. From there, I began making infrastructure changes, keeping a running estimate of the price as I projected out rail lines crossing the country and connecting up various theoretical mines. Roads, power and telephone lines, pipelines to carry oil. I gathered up troops to form an army. Put together a program to start identifying and training aerial mages. Created shipyards and ships. I proposed theoretical deals with America to sell crude oil. Deals with our neighbors to lay track, copper, and pipe¡ªand contingency plans to wage small scale warfare and directed regime changes if they refused, using my PMC to effect those changes. Even theoretical treaties with newly ¡®democratically elected¡¯ officials in charge of those countries to ally with Brasa, essentially becoming vassal states. The cost was astronomical, but theoretically possible with the resources Brasa had on hand. The country just needed to get its shit together. The people needed motivation. They needed to see that it could work¡ªthat dedicated hard work would get them more than accepting the poisoned fruit of the tree of communism. And for that, the country would need something to come along and change the culture. A charismatic leader. A competent government. A complicit news media. A propaganda campaign directed at the citizens, extolling a culture of hard work and excellence, and the rewards for them. New laws to prevent corruption and regulatory bodies to enforce them. A strong currency, backed by gold, oil, and labor¡ªso that the workers¡¯ labor has intrinsic worth, thus giving them a reason to invest into the system. A central banking system owned by the government, not some parasite pretending to be a government entity by putting ¡®federal¡¯ in its name and loaning the government money. Unfortunately, the free market here appears stagnant. No one is looking to invest. So, the best thing to do is to¡­ ugh, nationalize certain things like oil production, utilities, and rail. Once we¡¯ve got the infrastructure laid, then the free market can spring up around that. And if they can¡¯t out compete us, then I¡¯ll have to think up some way to keep the entire thing from becoming corrupt. I hated the idea of nationalization in principle, but¡­ there was precedent for it working out. There was also precedent for uncontrolled capitalism screwing over a nation. An example of that was America and the telephone wars¡ªwhere one service provider had taken over, squeezed out the competition, and owned all the lines. They then raised their prices and refused to lay new lines, or even do routine maintenance, except in major cities or when there were major technological advances. The government had stepped in and broken the monopoly up, but by then it was too late. The breakup was a farce¡ªit was just the same company, working together, wearing multiple hats claiming to be different companies. At the time of my untimely death as a salary man in Japan, I seemed to recall that there were large portions of the United States with substandard phone and internet service, just because the providers refused to invest in areas outside the cities¡ªand even in those cities, service lagged well behind what we had in Japan. Whereas in Japan, the government had laid the lines, then rented the use of them out to service providers. Of course, the difference there is that Japan is a tiny island nation and America is essentially fifty individual nations in a trench coat, each larger than many, if not most, European countries. But in the case of Brasa, it could work. All of that depended on several conditions¡ªrequired several things to happen first, in a specific order. The current government had to be replaced. The communists and cartels needed to be eliminated. Both of which would likely fall to me, which meant growing my Military Without Borders to operate in any theater. I needed more men. More mages. More money to pay them. More bullets, beans, and boots. More equipment. More planes, ships, tanks, guns, and everything we could get our hands on. ¡­I need to restructure, I mused, bringing up my org chart. The chart started with myself at the top, as the overall leader. Below me were Lt. Col. Weiss, in charge of the former Salamander Kampfgruppe¡ªwith its entire organizational tree below him, mostly intact save for a few promotions and reassignments. To Weiss¡¯s right was Capt. Fischer, in charge of our navy of one ship¡ªits own org tree laid out below him, with Cmdr. Fuchs at the top. To Weiss¡¯s left was Col. Ugar, with no one below him, but a note to expect people coming in by ship in the coming weeks. Though, after some thought, I tentatively placed Edwina under Ugar, since that was probably the best place to put our air support/transportation¡ªI just made a note that she was to be treated as a civilian and not in the chain of command, but that on her planes she was effectively the commanding officer. I would have to give her some sort of official rank, the same way militaries granted them to civilian consultants. Air and land combat operations, naval transport and combat operations, logistics. I¡¯m going to need more. A medical team here at base. We have a couple of medics in the kampfgruppe, but not enough to really make a department¡ªwhich is what we need. An intelligence and counter intelligence department¡ªspies suited both for field recon and making friends and networking in and outside of the country. An R&D team¡­ I sighed and immediately put Schugel¡¯s face up beside Ugar. He was a madman, but he was the best candidate. I just needed to get someone to ride herd over him to keep him from blowing us all up. And I need an engineering department, so we don¡¯t have to rely on external contractors. That way, we can further build up Colina and not open ourselves up to infiltration. Eventually, I was satisfied with my plans for the immediate future and finally managed to get some sleep.
The following three months were very busy as we dug in and got to work. With more people on the way, we were forced to expand. We had to add an expansion of barracks to the garrison, then clear some land out and start building homes for families. While that was ongoing, we had another group of workers come in and make a proper runway, a hangar big enough to hold twice as many bombers as we had available, and a home for Edwina. Since we had to have the equipment brought in to put down tarmac anyway, we went ahead and made a long, straight road between the garrison in the south and the castle in the north, then connected it to the runway and the village on the island. Once Edwina was settled in, she had our bombers moved over. Ugar set up a regular, hourly ferry service for people and vehicles between the island and the mainland, then had a meeting with the governor and scheduled having a bridge built. Edwina got her mechanics to work and soon began drafting plans and modifying our planes. The easiest was the bomber to be converted into a luxury transport, so they knocked that one out first, since everything they needed was easy to get. Once it was finished, I sent Edwina off to the States with Capt. Maybert and a couple of his people to purchase the artillery pieces, Bofors, and machine guns we needed to mount on our planes and have them shipped back to us. For some reason, Visha wanted to accompany them. I figured having her there, I¡¯d probably get a better report on what had transpired out of her than Maybert anyway, who was notorious for his bland, minimalist reporting, so I agreed as a matter of saving myself a future headache even if her absence inconvenienced me for a few days. People began arriving by boat not long after we completed the housing. The first batch of them escorted by Capt. Fischer as he and his people returned more than successfully, having captured several pirate ships that had attacked them and sold most of them, but kept the best of them for our own use. The captain was happy to see that we had completed a dock and berth for the Ingrid on our little island, right beside the castle, and immediately took the opportunity to put it to use getting his ship some much needed maintenance. With the families of my men streaming in, along with new recruits from the motherland bringing their own families, morale was at an all time high. I may have turned a blind eye when the parties got a little noisy at night, so long as the men on duty did their jobs. As for the biggest thorn in my side¡­ Schugel claimed none of the rooms in the garrison were fit for his lab. We eventually had to build him a facility from the ground up nearby, to his specifications. The mad scientist¡¯s lab had three floors including a basement¡ªroom for offices, supplies, and a small hangar. We also had to construct housing for Schugel and his soon to be new team nearby. As for the team, Schugel decided the best thing for him to do was to poach from the nearby college. The man had the audacity to just walk into various physics, chemistry, and science classes, take over the class himself, and give impromptu tests. Anyone who could score high enough was immediately offered a job. After that, he set up in his new lab and began holding classes himself to get them up to speed and on par with his old team. I had to step in and hire a team of my own to work with him¡ªspecifically, people to handle paperwork and the budget. Those, I also poached from the college¡ªspecifically, their business and finance department. I assigned them a budget, then told Schugel that he needed to have plans drawn up and make working prototypes on the cheap if he wanted me to green light anything he wanted done, unless he could find a way to make money himself just to keep him from immediately blowing his budgetary load on something dumb. Of course, we weren¡¯t just building up and training. Even without the planes, we could still run operations in country. We needed funds quickly, so I set about getting them in the fastest way possible. I assigned a couple of teams to do the same thing with our recently liberated neighbor cities that we had done with Bellum¡ªthat is, hunting down the cartels and gutting them. Stripping them of their assets and making them ours, leaving no survivors behind. All of their equipment, along with that of the communists we¡¯d seized, was shipped back to Bellum. Everything not nailed down that we didn¡¯t keep for ourselves, we donated to the families of those who were coming in by ship¡ªso they had furniture, beds, decorations, and generally more creature comforts than they would have otherwise had. The properties we either sold, converted into bolt holes, or razed to the ground¡ªthough in that last case, if there were building materials we could use, we happily repurposed those. Then, we went through and did a little cleaning of the local governments, just as we had with Bellum. Everyone either got with the program or wound up unemployed¡ªor dead, if they fought back. Once we had instituted some regime changes there, we had them increase the size of their police forces and put together a volunteer militia, which we then armed with some of the things we¡¯d confiscated from the commies. Communications protocols were established and we turned Sao Domingo and Santa Maria, and outlying villages, into an early warning system against commies approaching from that direction by land. When the intelligence came in from Sao Paulo and the capital, we were ready to act on it.
¡°Hello everyone~! Thank you for coming!¡± Visha grinned as she closed the door to the small room everyone had gathered in. ¡°What¡¯s this about, Capt. Serebryakov?¡± Cmdr. Fuchs asked, as the colonel¡¯s adjutant moved around the table and began pouring them coffee. In addition to herself and Capt. Serebryakov was Lt. Col. Weiss, Col. Ugar, and the new young civilian pilot, Lt. Vazquez. She leaned forward and claimed a hot chocolate muffin off of a plate in the center of the table and carefully dug in with a fork, even as she considered the pile of things in the center of the table. In addition to the muffins and the pot of coffee Capt. Serebryakov was placing down, there was what looked like two different kinds of bars of chocolate wrapped in light and dark wax paper, one pound bags of roasted coffee beans, small pouches of local dried pipe tobacco, a couple of boxes of local cigars, bags of mixed local fruit, and a plate containing a selection of sliced local fruit¡ªonly one of which she recognized, that being a banana. ¡°Well,¡± Visha began, taking one of the bars of chocolate and breaking off a piece, before dropping it in her cup of coffee. Seeing this, Cmdr. Fuchs took one of the bars and did likewise, humming quietly at the flavor as the chocolate began to melt. ¡°As you all know, we¡¯ve seized property and assets from the local cartels. Among them were several legitimate businesses. A coffee plantation, a cocoa plantation, a small chocolate factory, and with the latest raids, more cocoa and coffee plantations, some growing local fruit, a few growing tobacco, and a company that prepares the tobacco and produces pipe tobacco and cigars.¡± ¡°I see,¡± Ugar murmured, reaching out and taking one of the cigars. He gave it a sniff and nodded appreciatively. ¡°Much better than the local cigarettes I¡¯ve tried.¡± Weiss stood and projected a hologram from his computation orb above the table. ¡°We¡¯ve mostly left the running of these facilities alone, aside from doing some inspections and making sure everything looks above board. Unfortunately, we know nothing of the trade, nor do we know anything of industrial safety. So, we¡¯re looking into hiring people from the States to come down and take care of those aspects of things.¡± ¡°Alright. What does this have to do with us?¡± Fuchs wondered, while making a note that if they owned all of those things, she would certainly be procuring all of her coffee and chocolate needs from their own companies. Actually, coffee is the lifeblood of the Ingrid, almost more so than fuel. If we could guarantee a cheap, regular supply, that would certainly ease some of the burden of resupply. Likewise, I know many of the men are fond of their tobacco. And if we¡¯ve got our own fruit, we can source that locally as well. Three of our ships¡¯ dietary needs met from within our own ability to supply. This is good. ¡°Well, while Edwina and I were in America,¡± Visha gestured between herself and Lt. Vazquez, who grinned, ¡°We might have made a few stops here and there and spoken to a few distributors and businessmen¡­¡± ¡°She means to say that she flashed a pretty smile and sweet talked them,¡± Edwina chuckled, earning a giggle from Visha. ¡°So, we now have guaranteed buyers in the States. I¡¯ve already spoken with papa and he¡¯s going to dedicate two cargo planes to flying fruit up to see how it sells in that market. But you know how the Americans go nuts over exotic imports. We¡¯ll be chartering ships to ship out coffee, chocolate, and tobacco for now, then more for fruit later, if it does well.¡± ¡°That¡¯s where the Ingrid comes in. We¡¯d like you to run escort for them,¡± Weiss explained. ¡°Also, to put together, train, and equip at least two crews and ships to do the same, so we don¡¯t have to rely on the Ingrid exclusively.¡± ¡°And Col. Ugar¡¯s role will be to work the locations of those plantations, and our air and sea ports into his plans for laying down dedicated rail lines,¡± Visha continued. Sipping his coffee as he sat back in his chair, Ugar hummed. ¡°And we own these, not the country?¡± he asked, and Visha and Weiss nodded. ¡°So then, the money from the sales will be going back into the businesses and into our private military, so we don¡¯t have to rely on the Brasa government.¡± ¡°Exactly,¡± Weiss nodded. ¡°And the better you do, the better I do, ¡®cause you can buy me new planes,¡± Edwina grinned. ¡°Our fortunes are well and truly tied together now.¡± Fuchs considered the others before asking, ¡°Why is Col. Degurechaff not here?¡± Visha grinned. ¡°Because it¡¯s a surprise! Don¡¯t worry, she¡¯s actually helping, just not how she thinks she is. I¡¯ve been running all of the financial decisions by her under the guise of asking for lessons in economics. She loves talking about it, so she¡¯s a wellspring of information. I want to surprise her with the first yearly budget report and a lump sum of money.¡± ¡°I suppose I should get started making a list of things we can spend that windfall on then,¡± Ugar chuckled dryly. ¡°If only so I can see her face, in that moment when she realizes that she has to spend the money she was just given.¡± Fuchs nodded, considering for a moment before asking, ¡°If we¡¯re taking enemy assets as spoils of war, does this leave us free to plunder pirates?¡± ¡°Absolutely!¡± Visha nodded, which Weiss echoed. ¡°Please do. Consider it an unofficial order. If you can capture and interrogate pirates and find out where they¡¯re based out of, we can clean them out and take over their facilities for ourselves.¡± ¡°Giving us small ports and bases in the Caribbean that we can use to refuel and repair, as needed,¡± Fuchs murmured. ¡°Yes, I¡¯ll pass the word along.¡± ¡°Great! That about does it, everyone. Please, take some samples with you when you go!¡± Visha smiled, gesturing at the pile on the table. And with that, the meeting was over. 10 A Young Girl¡¯s Outer Heaven 10
Commissioned by Sneakydevil.
I sipped at my coffee as I relaxed in my chair at the head of the big briefing room table. Picking up my napkin, I took up one of the pastries someone had brought in before I¡¯d gotten here, along with a bunch of other traditional German breakfast food. It couldn¡¯t have been Visha, because she was still in bed when I got up to shower and get my day started, so it was probably one of the many other people who helped keep this place running. Reminds me of home, I sighed, biting into the cinnamon roll like pastry and making a happy noise at the taste. I¡¯m sure the men will be happy. This was just one of the benefits about getting so many of our countrymen coming over. It wasn¡¯t just our military people who had decided to flee the country and escape to Brasa. Word had spread back home, apparently. Soldiers talked to their families, who left to avoid persecution for association. Those families told their communities, many of whom decided to also leave to avoid occupation under the commies if they decided to break up the country. No, the writing was on the wall and anyone with sense could see it. Dark times were coming and a lot of people were leaving. They brought with them skills and trades that had been in their families for generations, a sense of community with their fellow Germans, and that German work ethic they were so well known for. Already, land had been leased to be purchased in time and an entire new community was being built from the ground up. A few of the wealthier people had already bought temporary store fronts and housing and were loaning those out to our countrymen, to get them on their feet. That was how we now had a variety of new shops, including a number of them selling traditional German food. There were no less than three bakeries that I knew of and probably a few I didn¡¯t. It warmed my capitalist heart to see them doing so well, after having fled their homes, some with just the clothes on their backs and relying on the kindness of strangers. Eventually, the officers began to filter in. Visha came in, looking harried as she looked around, before spotting me and wincing. Hurrying over, she murmured a quick apology as she grabbed the carafe and topped up my cup of coffee. ¡°Sorry, ma¡¯am. I slept in.¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s fine. I got up early. My mind was too busy to get much sleep,¡± I waved her off. ¡°Sit, eat.¡± Visha looked embarrassed, but quickly took her seat and did just that as she began making herself up a plate. I reached out and snagged something with strawberries on top and sighed happily as I bit into it. As I did, my thoughts wandered to Schugel and his abominable tests. As it turned out, I hadn¡¯t survived the blast that was setting off the Type 95. At least, not all of me. My magic and will had. My soul, if you will. The squishy biological parts of my body were gone. Burned up and destroyed. I had known it, of course, but it was a different thing to have it confirmed. My body at the moment was largely composed of mana. Schugel¡¯s tests had shown that I was slowly putting myself back together, however. Seemingly from memory, or at least that was his theory. I ate and processed food as a normal person would, though I didn¡¯t technically need to anymore if I only cared about my mana formed body. But my body did what bodies do and converted food into fuel, then healed. I was somehow regrowing biological tissue. I had no idea how it was surviving without blood, bone, and all that good stuff, but Schugel believed that it was my mana keeping everything going and mimicking those processes. Artificial blood pumping through my veins, carrying oxygen and nutrients to new cells that were quickly growing into a new physical body. Already, my skin and hair were fully biological, according to the samples Schugel had taken. Other parts were forming as well, all according to what the mad scientist and his new lab assistants assured me was very similar to the natural process and schedule of the body replacing its cells over time. Except it appeared to be going very quickly. The more I ate, especially protein, the faster it happened. Reminded of that fact, I reached out and speared a couple of sausages with my fork and put them on my plate as I systematically routed and destroyed my breakfast while waiting for the others. Eventually, the last of us entered¡ªWeiss coming in carrying several folders. Looking around and seeing us all here, he began passing out folders to everyone before he took his usual seat to my right. ¡°Good morning, everyone,¡± Weiss nodded as he began making himself up a plate, earning echoed greetings around the table. ¡°Colonel, with your permission, I¡¯ll begin.¡± ¡°Please,¡± I agreed, waving for Weiss to start. The man did a quick spell and a hologram popped up over the table. It was an org chart, complete with photographs, for the Brasa government¡ªstarting with President Julio Vargas and going down through his cabinet, advisors, everyone who worked directly for the man. Every member of the government who supported the current president and was part of the current regime, who supported the communist blight infecting our new home. All the way down to the chefs and the janitors and spreading outwards to their immediate families. Weiss had taken the one he had made a few short months ago when we arrived and expanded upon it. I whistled quietly at the level of detail. ¡°You¡¯ve had our intelligence department busy, I see,¡± I mused, taking a sip of my coffee. ¡°Tell me your plan for dealing with this.¡± ¡°We¡¯ve come up with a few plans.¡± I grinned. ¡°You¡¯re spoiling me for choice, Weiss. Go on then.¡± The man chuckled, taking a moment to bite into his own breakfast pastry and chew. Eventually, he washed it down and asked, ¡°How obvious do you want us to be, colonel? Would you prefer it not look suspicious at all, or do you prefer to go for intimidation?¡± Humming as I chewed on a bite of sausage, I considered it. On the one hand I wanted Pedro, as our replacement, to have clean hands in this¡ªat least, as far as anyone investigating would be able to tell. He needed to appear squeaky clean. A retired military man with a stellar reputation coming in to clean up the country and selling the dream of a peaceful, prosperous Brasa joining the likes of the United States in being a world leader. On the other hand, I knew the value of fear. Of intimidation. It was a handy tool to turn against your enemies, and it could be crippling if the enemy used it against you. But a population living under fear? That could be either very useful, or very bad. Fear made people stupid. Reactionary, in a bad way. It put them on the back foot and had them jumping at shadows, willing to do anything, give nearly anything, to see the source of that fear go away. They could be more easily manipulated. Made to do what anyone in power wanted, if you worded it the right way¡ªeven give up basic civil liberties in exchange for even the illusion of safety. Individually, a person was smart, but as a group people tended to be sheep. ¡°Can we do both?¡± I asked, and Weiss smiled. ¡°I thought you might ask that, so that was actually the first one on the list.¡± ¡°You know me too well.¡± ¡°To be fair, you¡¯re fairly predictable, ma¡¯am,¡± Visha giggled, and I rolled my eyes. Weiss chuckled but began detailing the plan he and our people had cooked up. ¡°This plan has three primary stages. Stage one: assassinate President Vargas and make it look like a suicide. Stage two: eliminate the rest of the current government and pin it on the communists. Stage three: cleaning up and quietly putting our own people into place to replace them.¡± A gesture from Weiss changed the hologram, showing several photographs of the president¡¯s residence. ¡°This is where the president is staying. As you can see, it¡¯s a fairly newly constructed villa style residence for the president and his immediate staff.¡± More photos joined the others, detailing the inside of the building, all taken using a night vision spell. ¡°Security is tight, but like the rest of the country, they completely lack a mage presence.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a mistake,¡± I murmured, shaking my head but gesturing him to go on. I had a feeling I knew where this was going. ¡°We can send in a three-man team of mages under invisibility formulas. We¡¯ll take one of his guns prior to the mission but bring a spare Brasa military service sidearm just in case. Our team will infiltrate and shadow the president, and wait for him to be alone in his office. He keeps these doors onto this balcony outside the office open most of the time. Once alone, one of our men will shoot him in the head with the pistol. They¡¯ll use a silencing formula to remove the sound and fire a second shot out the balcony doors with the gun in his hand, to make sure he has powder residue on his hand. After that, they¡¯ll exfiltrate via the balcony and fly back to one of our safe houses overnight, to make sure they weren¡¯t followed, just in case something changes and they¡¯ve invested in mage detection equipment or hired a mage of their own in between now and the time this goes down.¡± And there it was, exactly what I was expecting. We lived in a world of magic. You needed mages to deal with mage problems. As we had seen with Dacia, mages were superior to regular forces and if you couldn¡¯t field your own mages, you were doomed from the start. Brasa had no mages. More importantly the government had no mages and none of the technology that might detect a mage that every major side in the war had employed. Going up against regular people as a mage might as well be cheating. Not that I was going to complain when it went in my favor! I would take advantage of this tactical boon for as long as I could. If my enemies kept making the same mistakes, I wasn¡¯t going to interrupt them! It was a such a simple trick to counter, too. It was so simple that I had used it as the entrance exam into the 203rd when I¡¯d first been ordered to construct an aerial mage battalion, and it had filtered roughly ninety percent of the potential recruits. Invisibility fell under the ¡®Illusion¡¯ school of magic, which all worked off of creating, projecting, or redirecting light and sound. It was so simple and useful that every mage recruit was taught it in their first year of training. It was used for everything from taking photographs, to making presentations like the one Weiss was giving, to creating a blind, or just rendering oneself or a piece of equipment invisible to the naked eye. Except it was so common and so easy to use that anyone with a lick of magical detection skill could tell when one was being used. It actively used mana, so of course you¡¯d be able to detect it¡ªeither with equipment or as a mage, using your own sense of mana. That was why it had been such a great filter for potential troops. If someone walking into a room couldn¡¯t tell the person they were talking to was an illusion and that the actual interviewers were all hidden off to the side under another illusion, then they were too stupid and unobservant to live. They would only get themselves and those around them killed by missing a mage trying to sneak in under invisibility or an illusory disguise¡ªwhich didn¡¯t actually happen often specifically for that reason. But if you couldn¡¯t detect it at all, then suddenly, those tactics that we just didn¡¯t use against mage troops and only used under very specific circumstances suddenly became a whole lot more viable. Or, to put it another way¡­ We may as well be playing Metal Gear with the sneaking suit! My grin gave away my enthusiasm for the idea, but it still deserved to be said. ¡°I love this plan. And stage two?¡± ¡°If you like that, then how about a little¡­¡± he turned to Visha. ¡°What did you call it?¡± Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. ¡°Cosplay!¡± my adjutant answered, and I raised an eyebrow. I knew I had used the word before a few times, but I hadn¡¯t realized it had stuck. ¡°Oh?¡± ¡°When we raided the communists, we found a cache of uniforms for their officers in charge. The ones from the Russy Federation,¡± Weiss explained, and my eyes went wide. ¡°Russy uniforms? Weiss, don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re going to stage a false flag attack!¡± The man nodded, a smile coming to his lips. ¡°That¡¯s exactly it. We¡¯ll equip a few men with them and use some communist vehicles we acquired to put on a little show. When President Vargas tragically commits suicide, the government will have to appoint an interim leader until new elections can take place. They¡¯ll have to meet for that. All of them conveniently in one place. A few days before, we¡¯ll set demo and incendiary charges in the building. Then on the day of, send in a squad in uniforms and masks, have them gun down nearly everyone in attendance, and destroy the building as they leave.¡± Laughing, I shook my head. ¡°Ah, if only I could go. You¡¯re making me want to step in and do it myself. But somehow, I think that having someone on the team half the size of the others might give us away.¡± At that, Weiss smirked. ¡°I thought you might say that, so I made preparations to include you as well.¡± I blinked, sending him a perplexed look. ¡°You did? And what role did you have in mind for me?¡± ¡°A demonstration, ma¡¯am. We did some research on what would happen, if the president were to die suddenly. The meeting to appoint a new president would be, not open to the public, but open to other elected officials and any ¡®interested parties of sufficient standing.¡¯ If the president were to take his own life, the governor could show up and voice his own opinion, as both a governor and former general. He would be allowed to bring guests, staff, or bodyguards. Up to three could come inside the building, but only one would be allowed to sit with him.¡± ¡°So you want me there beside him, keeping him alive through the shooting and evacuating him?¡± ¡°The governor, and a few people we¡¯ve flagged as being opposed to the president¡¯s actions of late,¡± Weiss nodded. ¡°Our men will make sure to not target them directly. They tend to self-segregate, so if you were seated near enough, you could put a shield over them and lead them to safety.¡± ¡°It makes me look like a hero and showcases the strength of even a single mage to change the outcome of an encounter,¡± I mused. ¡°Very good PR and it advances our eventual goals of putting together an aerial mage recruiting and training academy to bolster our numbers. I like it.¡± ¡°I thought so. Additionally, there will be press there. We¡¯ll be sending a reporter from Bellum, of course.¡± ¡°We own this one?¡± I asked, and Weiss nodded. ¡°Even better! So I take it we¡¯ll invite them as a guest and let them fly with us to Brasilia?¡± When Weiss nodded again, I added, ¡°Check with Edwina and make sure our transport is ready to make the trip in style.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll have someone take care of it,¡± Weiss made a note in his own folder before continuing. ¡°As for the last phase. Cleanup. We¡¯ll have more attacks by ¡®Russy communists¡¯ against key political figures and certain wealthy business owners. Full assaults, car bombings, driving up and shooting up their vehicles as they¡¯re traveling. Some of those will succeed, others will fail. We¡¯ll remove the last of the communist sympathizers, keep most of the moderates who we think will side with us alive, and make sure those who were against it stay alive. Anyone of rank or wealth who has directly aided the communist cause in Brasa is going to be dealt with. At the same time, we¡¯ll be publicly conducting operations against the communists in retaliation for the attack.¡± ¡°It¡¯ll be a public relations coup,¡± I laughed. ¡°And what about the election? We still have to give the illusion of holding a ¡®free and fair¡¯ election to ensure there are no complaints when Pedro takes office.¡± ¡°That¡¯s simple. First, we duplicate the ballots, once it¡¯s decided who¡¯s going to be on them. Then, we fill them out so that it looks like our candidate of choice wins in a landslide, with believable numbers for any other candidates. We¡¯ll box them up and move them to secure locations outside of polling centers in the lead up to the election. After that, we infiltrate the polling centers. Put some people in each. Use illusions to steal the real ballots and swap them with the duplicates. Then burn them in a secure location, after.¡± ¡°That would work, just make sure we don¡¯t make a martyr of one of his political opponents,¡± one of the others spoke up from down the table, earning nods all around. ¡°Or worse, try it and miss, or only wound the target. It would only rally support for them, if they survived.¡± ¡°We should be on the lookout for the communists to try similar strategies. Either attacking their own in false flag attacks, or trying to infiltrate our campaign or places where governor Vazquez is speaking and get a shot off.¡± ¡°We should double the mage detail around him when he goes out, following the assassination.¡± I listened, sitting back and sipping my coffee with a smile as my people did their jobs. Eventually, I prompted Weiss to present his other plans and listened intently to each, weighing their merits. However, it seemed that my subordinates were in agreement with me and the first plan was agreed to be the best. ¡°Very well. Get it done, Lt. Col. Weiss. Keep me updated.¡± Weiss gave a salute where he sat. ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± ¡°If there¡¯s nothing else, I¡¯ll be off. I have a meeting scheduled with,¡± I shuddered, ¡°Herr Doktor Schugel.¡± There were some looks and sounds of sympathy around the table as I pushed my chair out and left. Heading outside, I took to the air and flew across the island, to the remote bunker we had built to stuff Schugel into¡ªhopefully isolated enough from anything and anyone that if he blew himself up, it would be mostly contained to that part of the island. The man on duty saluted as I made my way inside, pausing to let him verify my identity and magical signature before continuing on my way. I only had to follow the yelling to find Schugel. ¡°You idiot! I am the head of this department! I should not need to fill out requisition forms in damned triplicate to get a sample of something as simple as elinium to work with!¡± ¡°Sir, my orders come from the colonel herself! They expressly forbid all hands on experimentation without her express consent!¡± ¡°And should I ask for permission and sign three damned forms every time I need to take a piss?!¡± I pushed the door to the room open. ¡°Yes.¡± Schugel turned on me with laser like focus. ¡°Colonel von Degurechaff! This is completely unacceptable! I can¡¯t work under these conditions!¡± Sending the man an amused look, I asked, ¡°Do you want that budget?¡± He frowned. ¡°You know I do.¡± ¡°Then sign the damned forms, doctor.¡± Turning to the aid I¡¯d assigned to stay on top of the doctor, I sent him a smile. ¡°Keep up the good work. Don¡¯t let him bully you.¡± ¡°Yes ma¡¯am,¡± he chuckled, before thrusting the forms out at Schugel. ¡°Please sign, doctor.¡± Schugel let out a sigh of defeat and collapsed into his chair. ¡°Very well. I feel as though my very soul is being drained by this bureaucracy you¡¯ve shackled me with, but fine. Fine! If it means getting the resources I need.¡± ¡°Mm. And what exactly do you need today?¡± I asked, moving over to look over the forms as Schugel began to write out a brief description of the materials needed. ¡°A computation orb and some samples of the local elinium. I¡¯ve been assured that we have some, or can procure it. I need to test its purity and viability.¡± ¡°Oh, is that all?¡± I asked, and he snorted. ¡°Of course that¡¯s not all! I was going to make a small prototype of the device we mentioned. I believe half a pound should be sufficient¡ª¡± I choked. ¡°Half a¡ªare you insane?!¡± I yelped, going wide-eyed. Grabbing the forms, I quickly crossed out his requested amount and lowered it down to less than a gram per sample. ¡°You know damn well what I did with only a few grams of elinium and my own magic, you idiot! If you tried it with that much, forget the island, I¡¯m pretty sure half of Brasa would go up in a fireball!¡± Turning a stern look on the requisitions officer, I gestured towards Schugel. ¡°This is why he isn¡¯t allowed to make requisitions without my permission and why he always needs to fill out the forms! Do not, under any circumstances, fill any requisition he makes without my express consent! I don¡¯t care if it¡¯s for replacement coffee, it needs to have my signature before he gets it!¡± ¡°Yes ma¡¯am! I mean, no ma¡¯am! I won¡¯t, colonel!¡± Schugel pouted like I had taken away his toys and I sent the man a glare. ¡°Any testing is to be done with tiny samples and far, far away from here. We¡¯ll eventually build a test facility in the mountains for it. Until then, you can conduct tests from a boat, off the coast. Understood?¡± The doctor sighed. ¡°Bah. If I must. It isn¡¯t as though it would have been immediately dangerous anyway. Without a mage supplying them mana directly, they¡¯ll have to pull in mana from our surroundings. It would take weeks to get to the point of being dangerous to anyone outside of the building.¡± I sent him a flat look. ¡°And how likely are you to get distracted by something else and forget it for months?¡± Schugel waved my concerns off. ¡°Never mind that! Here, the reason I requested a meeting. I need you to sign off on materials, development, and testing for a new type of bomb casing. This is just for the casing, mind you, not the payload.¡± As I took the sheet and began to read over it, he continued, ¡°I call them ¡®smart bombs!¡¯ Lenkwaffenmunition! Or ¡®guided bomb units¡¯ if you want to be dry about the language. These will have fins on the front and back and be able to maneuver as they fall towards their selected target.¡± ¡°I see,¡± I murmured, nodding as I signed and handed it off to the req. officer, before sending him on his way. ¡°Until we can get rocket production going, it¡¯s the best I can do. A bomb unit such as this would allow us to quickly install a magical warhead, which could then be flown in and dropped over the target of your choosing.¡± Considering the scientist, I asked, ¡°How hard would it be to enchant it to actually fly, using a bit of power from the warhead?¡± Schugel hummed, leaning back in his chair as a considering look crossed his face. ¡°I suppose that would depend on how far you want it to fly. Oh, the enchanting process will be easy enough. It will require some of the same sorts of tools used to produce computation orbs. You would need a factory for large scale production. A factory, machinery, workers,¡± he waved a hand idly in the air, ticking off each need. ¡°But the actual enchantment part is simple enough. You would just need to make a single purpose computation orb.¡± Blinking, I sent him a curious look. ¡°You can use a computation orb for that? Without a mage?¡± Schugel grinned. ¡°Of course! It¡¯s all a matter of programming in the correct sequence of operations by inscribing them onto the orb¡¯s mechanisms, or parts connected to it. After that, why, you could make it so simple any idiot could operate it with the flip of a switch! We needed mages before to provide mana and do the calculations, but now that I understand more about mana fixing and absorbing ambient mana, having an orb pull in only the mana it needs and use it automatically, even doing the calculations itself and responding according to its programming, would be simplicity itself.¡± Staring at the man, I quietly asked, ¡°And if I asked you to build a computation orb that, if given the right equipment, and resources, could build other, new computation orbs or whatever it was told to on its own?¡± The madman froze on the spot, before going wide-eyed, then roaring with laughter. ¡°Ahahaha~! This! This is why you and I work so well together, fraulein! You have such marvelous ideas! Why yes, yes I believe I could!¡± Popping up from his chair, he began to pace. ¡°And if you could make a computation orb build other computation orbs, why not have it make rifles, bullets, tanks, planes, uniforms, boots, and everything else you need?! Moving beyond the needs of the war machine, you could put them on an assembly line, replacing human workers, and have them make cars, clothes, can food, and everything else a nation needs! ¡°And why stop there? You could build them into every step of the process! We need to mine for iron? Build a machine around a computation orb capable of doing so by itself! That iron must then be refined, so we¡¯ll have another orb to do that. Then another to make steel. Then another, and another. All of the mundane tasks that have to be done by hand or complicated machinery, we can switch to computation orbs! Farming? Build a piece of farm equipment and stick an orb in it! Water treatment, sewage, power production¡ªnot making electricity directly, that¡¯s inefficient, but managing the systems that produce power, yes! It would almost completely automate most things and reduce the need for workers, or move most jobs over to supervising the machines to make sure they didn¡¯t make any mistakes, or repairing them when they broke down. It¡¯s, it¡¯s¡ª!¡± Schugel fell back into his chair, clutching his head and breathing hard. I studied him with concern, performing a quick medical diagnostic formula and finding he was hyperventilating and his heart was racing, but otherwise seemed okay. ¡°Oooh¡­ a bit too much excitement for this old man. My head feels like it¡¯s on fire. I have so many new ideas I feel like I can¡¯t contain them all!¡± Looking up, Schugel met my gaze, his eyes having a mad look to them. ¡°Thank you, fraulein! From the bottom of my heart! Oh, with this, we are going to change the world. I need my assistants! Quickly, now!¡± Deciding to help him strike while the iron was hot, I left the room and found the closest of Schugel¡¯s lab assistants¡ªthose students we had recruited out of the local college. ¡°Herr Doktor needs you in his lab. Gather the others, quickly,¡± I instructed, and the woman nodded and hurried off. Shaking my head, I left the lab and took to the sky again, heading back to my office. I was sure there was paperwork in need of doing¡ªthere always was¡ªand I needed some time to clear my own head. I had hoped Schugel would catch the hint I was handing him, but I hadn¡¯t expected him to take it and run with it as he had. He had basically went straight from computation orbs, to computers, to automation of basically everything we would need to give Brasa an advantage over America and everywhere else. The United States in my first world had been a major contributing factor to winning WWII despite coming in so late because they had the advantage in numbers. Not just in people, but in resources and production. I remember reading about how the Germans were, like our Germany, using horses to get around the back country at times because they were cheap and easier to get down narrow trails, and keeping trucks and other vehicles fueled would have been a nightmare. And yet, the Americans did it anyway. They brought their own vehicles, their own fuel, and often times they made their own roads. That was the big wake up call the Germany of that world needed to realize that America had them beat on scale. It had happened similarly in this world, with the Americans always being more well supplied than our own people, as long as they weren¡¯t too far from their supply lines. Some of the best supplies we had ever strategically acquired had come from American forces. That was what I wanted for Brasa and, through Brasa, for my Military Without Borders and myself. To be able to project power anywhere, globally, within forty-eight hours. To be armed with the best and most feared tools, such that no one would dare attack us, for fear of retaliation. The question is, how long is it going to take to set up? I know that once it gets started, it¡¯s going to snowball, building faster and bigger. But how long for that initial pebble to turn into something too big to stop? And will it be fast enough to dissuade the Americans, once they inevitably come sniffing around? I doubted even Schugel had an answer. Which meant that I needed to build up my forces and ensure our roots in Brasa were deep before they got here. I needed to entrench us and be ready to hold this position if it came down to it. Then again there¡¯s always the alternative. We have bombers. We¡¯ll have bombs to load on them soon. We¡¯d only need a few to make a statement, if it came down to it. I do prefer being proactive to reactive. Perform a few decapitation strikes and let the enemy do the reacting. As it should be! 11 A Young Girl¡¯s Outer Heaven 11
Commissioned by Sneakydevil.
¡°How did I get tapped for this?¡± I asked, sending Weiss an incredulous look. My second in command grinned. ¡°You said to pick the people most suited to the job. You didn¡¯t exclude yourself from that list, colonel.¡± ¡°Huh. I did, didn¡¯t I?¡± ¡°Besides,¡± he sent me a knowing look, ¡°weren¡¯t you saying how you wanted to go?¡± I sighed, clicking my belt into place and making sure everything was settled properly. Well, he has me there. I¡¯ve been¡­ bored recently. That little taste of action rescuing Schugel only made me want more. A person can only sit behind a desk and do so much paperwork before it becomes soul crushingly dull. Frowning, I had to wonder when exactly it was I had changed. When had I stopped wanting a safe desk job in the rear? When did I become as much of a battle junkie as the rest of the bloodthirsty lunatics who worked under me? Looking back on things, I couldn¡¯t really pinpoint the time when I began to enjoy combat. I suppose there had always been a thrill, right from the beginning. That feeling after fighting for my life and coming out alive. Facing death was scary, every single time, and that had never changed. But some time along the way, it seemed that the fear of death became more like spice on top of the dish that was coming out victorious and seeing my enemies dead by my own hands. The satisfaction of a job well done was just icing on the cake. ¡°I did,¡± I admitted. ¡°Why me though?¡± ¡°Aside from Viktoriya and Grantz, you have the highest proficiency both with stealth magic and detecting magical signatures. If they¡¯ve gotten magical backup since our last sweep, you¡¯ll detect them long before they detect you.¡± Looking down, I checked the tight fitting outfit. It was less a uniform and more like a catsuit out of some superhero movie. Or an action movie, given all of the rigging for ammunition and holsters¡ªone standard belt, a shoulder rig, and holsters on my thighs. I had my sidearm, one of a batch of M1911s we had stolen from the Americans, with a new suppressor attachment, extra magazines for it, a combat knife, grenades, and an MP35 hanging down over my chest. It was probably overkill for this mission, but I thought it was better to go in expecting that we might have to fight our way out against enemy aerial mages¡ªhope for the best, plan for the worst. The suit was surprisingly comfortable and cool in the Brasa heat. It breathed very well. I just wasn¡¯t quite sure I liked the way it clung to my form like a second skin. On the one hand, the tightness was actually functional. It would serve to prevent cloth from rustling and the thick cushions on the boot soles would cut down on the sound of our footsteps. It would also keep the material from getting caught on anything, such as branches, and causing noise. Also, the way illusion magic worked, the less area a spell had to cover, the better. It means less mana expenditure and less of a chance of our mana signatures being detected. High mana expenditure spells like flight would set off magical detection arrays for kilometers out and alert any competent mage at about a kilometer. Low mana expenditure spells, like invisibility and illusions, couldn¡¯t be detected by equipment unless they were within fifty meters or so, and any high security area typically had them as a basic security measure. But an enemy mage would need to be within that same range or less to detect one person using one of those spells. I personally had been able to detect low mana use spells up to half a kilometer out before the explosion. Now? That range was easily quadrupled. Being made of (almost) pure mana left me uniquely in tune with it and sensitive to it. On the other hand, I didn¡¯t enjoy the way it clung to and outlined my body. Maybe in a few years, when my body filled out and ¡®sex appeal¡¯ became a viable weapon in my arsenal. Until then, I felt like I should be wearing a coat or something to preserve my modesty. I would almost rather wear a dress, and I hated anything that feminine. The only consolation was that I wasn¡¯t the only one being stuffed into one of these. Visha and Grantz would have to suffer as I did, for a while at least. Also, we¡¯d be under invisibility from the time we left the base until we got back, so the only ones who would see me in this getup would be those two and Weiss, and Schugel and his assistants who had measured and fitted me for it. On the other, other hand¡­ I was joking when I said using magic was like using Metal Gear sneaking suits! And then Schugel went and designed one after I mentioned the possibility for future stealth missions! I didn¡¯t even know you could use elinium as mana shielding or spin it into thread. I¡¯d be doing some serious field testing with it later, but if it worked as well as Schugel claimed it did¡ªone hundred percent reduction in mana signature for internal mana use such as strengthening formulas, a greater than seventy percent reduction in mana signature for low mana usage formulas such as illusions and mage blade, and a predicted fifty percent reduction for mid-to-high use spells like flight. No reduction for combat formulas such as mage bullets, explosive formulas, and the like but the benefits were still solid. I might have to see about making the incorporation of elinium thread into our uniforms standard practice, if it worked out. That was for later though. For now, we had a mission to take care of. Pulling on the balaclava that went with it, I took a few moments to stuff my hair up inside it, then roll it back up over my face¡ªI could pull it back down when it was time, but I wasn¡¯t riding in the plane with it down. ¡°Anything else I need to know?¡± Weiss shook his head. ¡°No ma¡¯am.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s get to it, then.¡± I exited the room to find Visha and Grantz waiting in the hall, the two of them not so subtly trading glances and taking in each other¡¯s forms. I couldn¡¯t say I blamed them, really. Grantz was a healthy young man and a fine specimen of fit masculinity. He filled out his suit very well, and if I had any inklings towards enjoying the male form, I¡¯d probably be looking him over just as much as Visha was. Likewise, my adjutant and wingman filled out her own suit in a way that was very pleasing to my eyes. You would think that after seeing her in a swimsuit, I would be over it so to speak, but no. Somehow, the skin tight suit was even more lewd than the swimsuit. Of course it is! A swimsuit is just a swimsuit! Those are normal! This? This is a skin tight catsuit that would make a degenerate Taimanin enjoyer stand up and take notice! I most assuredly did not take pictures and since I wasn¡¯t using a computation orb (because I technically was one), no one could prove otherwise! There was no crime if there was no evidence of one! I cleared my throat and the pair snapped to attention. ¡°We¡¯ve leaving. Go stealth and radio silent until we¡¯re in the air.¡± ¡°¡°Yes ma¡¯am!¡±¡± they replied, and a moment later both of them faded from view. A moment later, I felt a hand on my shoulder. ¡°After you, Weiss,¡± I gestured, before going invisible as well, then grabbing Weiss¡¯s belt in the rear to let him know I was there. The three of us followed Weiss through the castle, people moving out of the way of his burly form and giving us a wide berth as we passed in his wake. When we got to the door, I let go long enough for us to get through the door without it being awkward, then grabbed on again as Weiss made his way to a jeep that was waiting for us. We climbed in and Weiss took off for the airfield. I enjoyed the early morning cool air blowing over me, especially the way it felt through the suit. It was so much better than the heat of the day that we were forced to endure. Living only a hundred miles south of the equator sucked. Not quite as bad as either end of the extreme we had experienced in Africa and the Russy Federation, but still awful in its own unique way. I missed living in a temperate zone. ¡°You¡¯re sure Edwina isn¡¯t aware of what¡¯s going on?¡± I asked from the passenger seat, still invisible. ¡°I¡¯m certain,¡± Weiss confirmed. ¡°As far as she knows, I¡¯m going alone to deliver important official documents by hand to the president from her grandfather and offer our services to the government directly.¡± The cover story had the benefit of being true. I had persuaded Pedro to send documents formally requesting the formation of an aerial mage school for the Brasa military, right in Bellum, using ¡®third party retired aerial mage officers¡¯ as instructors with the eventual goal of using those we taught to teach a new generation. It was everything I wanted to have, so we could point back to it and say, ¡®If only you had mages on staff, none of this would have happened!¡¯ We were expecting to be turned down, obviously. That was the point. The president would theoretically speak with his commie handlers, who would then nix the idea. They didn¡¯t want to deal with the loose canon that was a group of aerial mages fighting for money like filthy capitalist dogs instead of fighting for the glory of the motherland or whatever infantile delusions communists told themselves so they could sleep at night after selling out friends, family, and country for a self-destructive ideal. Of course, that was only if he put in the call to his handlers before tonight. We were expected to land some time around eleven and for Weiss to meet him just before lunch time, so he would have the afternoon to do so. If he didn¡¯t, that was fine as well. As long as the paperwork existed, it would serve its purpose, regardless of whether he talked to his handlers or not. ¡°How are you going to explain the time gap between when you left the president¡¯s office and getting back to the plane, sir?¡± Grantz spoke up from the back. ¡°Souvenirs and sightseeing. I¡¯ll take her out after I finish with the president and keep her busy.¡± ¡°So it¡¯s a date~!¡± Visha teased and Weiss chuckled. ¡°I¡¯m old enough to be her father. Besides, I think my wife would hurt me if she found out I was taking a younger woman out for a day on the town for anything but business. Please don¡¯t complicate my home life, captain.¡± We shared a laugh at that and a bit more idle chitchat, until Weiss pulled onto the airfield and parked. Edwina waved from where she sat on the steps leading up into our converted luxury air limousine. ¡°Lt. Col. Weiss,¡± she stood, dusting her shorts off. ¡°All ready to go? Just you? Not bringing the colonel?¡± ¡°Just me today, I¡¯m afraid. And I¡¯m all good,¡± Weiss nodded, and Edwina headed up into the plane. ¡°Seal her up behind you and I¡¯ll get her started. You¡¯re welcome to join me up front, if you like,¡± she offered, heading to the cockpit. We hurried up the stairs behind Weiss and sealed the plane up. Looking around, I suppressed a whistle at the changes that had been made to the bomber. The floors, walls, and ceiling were all paneled over with wood. Towards the front, a refrigerator/freezer had been bolted down beside a full minibar and kitchenette, everything secured behind locked cabinets. A bit further back, separated by a door, was a lounge area. Couches and a couple of recliners sat on either wall, with seat belts built into them, with overhead lighting, small fans and electric heaters, blankets, and a radio/record player. Through a third door was a very small sleeping area with two single bunk beds bolted to the walls. Beyond that was a restroom, with an actual toilet and sink. The paint and cloth still smelled fresh and new. Weiss made his way up front while we settled into the sitting area and dropped our invisibility as we settled in for a long flight.
We touched down in Brasilia with no problems and from there, it was back to working under cover of invisibility. Weiss had a car called to the airfield where we¡¯d landed and left Edwina with the plane for now as the four of us traveled the winding roads to a villa overlooking a lake, just a few miles to the east the federal district. ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± Weiss murmured as we turned off onto a newly paved road leading up to a wall with a gate house and a big, metal fence across the road going in and out. ¡°Straight on through. Easy does it,¡± I answered, but checked to make sure everything was secure about my person if I needed to ditch, if they decided to physically search the vehicle. The vehicle was an open top four seat jeep-style transport, so if we had to we could ditch without opening any doors. It also meant that being able to see inside, they should just make the assumption that Weiss was alone. But if I was in charge of security, I¡¯d poke every single seat with a bayonet just to make sure no one was trying to sneak in. I could feel the tension in the air, the anticipation as Weiss slowed and pulled to a stop beside the gatehouse. Two men exited, armed with rifles. One began questioning Weiss and his purpose for visiting while the other circled the vehicle and checked in and under it for anything suspicious. We kept still and silent as the inspector gave the nod to his companion and returned to his post. ¡°Very well, Lt. Col. Weiss. Before you proceed, I¡¯ll ask you to relinquish any weapons you have on your person. They will be returned to you when you leave.¡± Weiss chuckled and reached down, pulling out his sidearm. ¡°Of course. I understand,¡± he nodded, ejecting the magazine and chambered round, before pocketing those and handing the weapon itself to the guard. ¡°Thank you. Please proceed down the drive. There is a small parking lot to your right. Take the large stairs straight up to the front door and someone will meet you there.¡± The gate opened and Weiss rolled through. As soon as we were clear, I heard two quiet sighs from the back seat. ¡°We¡¯re not out of the woods yet,¡± I reminded, and heard my two teammates shift in their seats. As we got closer, I frowned as something tickled my magic senses. Carefully, very carefully, I reached out and brushed it. What I found drew a quiet curse to my lips. ¡°Damn! They¡¯ve got a mage!¡±If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Has he detected us?¡± Visha whispered. Studying his mana signature, I frowned. It remained level. Calm. There, but not on alert. I¡¯d even go so far as to call it relaxed. ¡°No. Not yet.¡± ¡°When did they hire one?¡± Grantz wondered. ¡°The latest surveillance reports are from two days ago. They couldn¡¯t have gotten one in that fast.¡± Gripping the wheel tightly, Weiss asked, ¡°What¡¯s the call, colonel? Proceed or abort?¡± I considered it as we rolled up the drive. Eventually, I made the call. ¡°Visha, Grantz, abort. Return to the plane.¡± ¡°But colonel¡ª!¡± I cut off Visha¡¯s protest. ¡°I have the highest mana sensitivity and greatest skill with illusions and hiding my mana. I stand the highest chance of completing the mission. More of us actually lowers the success rate at this point, because he¡¯s more likely to spot three of us than one. Weiss, nothing changes on your end. Get in, deliver the papers, make your pitch, and get out. If you happen to run across their mage, wait until you get back to the airfield and send an encrypted message letting me know what you found out. If not, maintain radio silence. I¡¯ll get the job done and exfiltrate back to the airfield as soon as I can. If I don¡¯t make it before ten, take off without me and I¡¯ll make my own way back. Understand?¡± ¡°Understood,¡± Weiss confirmed, while Visha and Grantz muttered a quiet, ¡°Yes ma¡¯am¡± from the back seat. Weiss pulled into the parking area and came to a stop. When he left the vehicle, I hopped out without opening the door and followed in his wake, once again holding onto his belt as we made our way up the stairs. The front door opened and an armed soldier greeted him. ¡°Lt. Col. Weiss, this way please.¡± Weiss entered and the soldier closed the door behind us before leading Weiss off, presumably to wherever the president was. I followed along just so I could see the man in person and get a better understanding of the layout of the place that didn¡¯t come from external recon. As I went, I kept a recording formula going and another building a map. I slapped in a basic motion tracker tied to my senses, the same one sometimes used in sniping formulas to register and predict target movement, and the map in my head began filling out with little red dots in the vicinity. As we approached the president¡¯s office, I frowned as I realized we were getting closer to the source of the mana signature. Surely it¡¯s not the president himself. Someone would have realized, right? Though¡­ did we actually get anyone close enough to verify that he wasn¡¯t a mage himself? Spotting the door to the office ahead, I let go of Weiss¡¯s belt and patted him once on the back before breaking off, slipping into an open side room on the same wall of the building as the office. Verifying it was empty, I hurried through and slipped out the open balcony doors. Spotting the balcony leading to the president¡¯s office nearby, I scanned around for something to grab onto before deciding on the roof. Careful of the roof tiles, I jumped and grabbed the ledge and eased myself over, hand over hand, before dropping lightly onto the balcony just as Weiss stepped into the room. ¡°President Vargas, it¡¯s good to finally meet you. I¡¯m Lt. Col. Weiss, here on behalf of governor Vazquez.¡± ¡°Ah, yes. Lt. Col. Weiss,¡± the president echoed, but something in his tone sounded¡­ off. Like someone who, while not exactly upset, was uncertain. Or who had to watch what he said. ¡°Pe¡ªthe governor called and spoke to my secretary. He said you have something for me? If you know the contents, would you mind giving a summary?¡± I moved closer to the doors and slowly peeked inside, seeing the president sitting at his desk with his back to me and Weiss now standing across from him, having not been offered a seat. Frowning, Weiss nodded and passed over the folder, before glancing to his left, towards the corner of the room¡ªmy right, and hidden from view by the wall. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I don¡¯t know who your comrade there is. Are you sure you wouldn¡¯t rather hear this in private?¡± I blinked, my blood slowly going cold as I realized what Weiss was implying. He knew I was likely in position and listening in already, or at least within earshot, and there was only one reason he would use that particular word. A damned communist?! Here? But that would mean that it¡¯s an aerial mage! Did one slip the commie net? No, no, they kept them tightly collared. Threatened their families, based on what we got out of prisoners we took and interrogated. They didn¡¯t want them to defect. So then it¡¯s someone here on orders. Slowly, a smile pulled across my lips as realization set in. The enemy was most likely a Russy aerial mage. Suddenly, the calm, relaxed feeling to the enemy mage¡¯s mana made sense¡ªat least, before Weiss had stepped into the room when it had spiked, and again when Weiss spoke and directly called the enemy mage out. Vargas laughed, but it sounded forced to my ears. ¡°It¡¯s fine. I assure you, anything you have to tell me can be said in front of my good friend, zampolit Captain Sokolov.¡± Another political officer. That explains why he¡¯s on edge. A commie political officer won¡¯t hesitate to put a bullet in his head if he suspects betrayal. It sounds as though the president has recently become a prisoner in his own home. Hah! Don¡¯t expect me to feel sorry for you. You made your bed with the commies, now lie in it. ¡°Very well. Those documents contain plans to start recruitment and form an academy for aerial mages, to form a new branch of the Brasa military. Over the past several months, he has enlisted the services of my organization, Militar Sin Fronteras¡ªMSF for short¡ªto handle some peacekeeping operations in and around Bellum and surrounding areas. We¡¯ve eradicated two local cartels, prevented the takeover of two nearby cities by hostile forces,¡± I heard shifting from the direction I now knew Capt. Sokolov to be sitting, and another spike in the captain¡¯s mana, ¡°and have made significant progress in securing the governor¡¯s territory and handling heavily armed criminals that the police force weren¡¯t equipped to deal with. Additionally, the governor has hired us on as bodyguards and we¡¯ve stopped not less than three attempts on his life. We¡¯d like to extend our services to the rest of the Brasa government, in lieu of a local standing force of aerial mages, and to act as instructors in an aerial mage academy until such time as we can build up your own force. Our rates are included in the folder. I think you¡¯ll find them quite reasonable¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯ve heard enough!¡± I nearly jumped as a woman¡¯s shout rang out from inside the room, followed by the scraping of a chair on the wooden floor. So, the captain is a woman? And prone to emotional outbursts? Good to know¡­ The woman moved up to the side of the desk, pointing a finger nearly in Weiss¡¯s face, and I got my first good look at her. Moderately shapely, at least from behind, with black hair pulled up into a tight bun, and wearing a uniform identical to the ones we¡¯d procured. ¡°I¡¯ll hear no more of this idiocy! The country of Brasa has no need of capitalist mercenaries, willing to sell their loyalty to the highest bidder! Nor will we be creating a privileged class of filthy bourgeoisie mages to lord over the proletariat, accountable only to themselves! And we certainly don¡¯t need the help of Imperial scum like you!¡± ¡°Captain,¡± Weiss smiled, but I recognized it as the smile the man wore when he was gunning down communists. ¡°Aren¡¯t you yourself a mage?¡± She turned towards Vargas and I got a look at her face, beautiful but twisted by rage. ¡°President Vargas, this man and his entire band are war criminals! They should be arrested and executed in the public square, immediately! You will have nothing to do with them beyond that, or when I make my report back to the motherland, Comrade Joseph will look very poorly upon your actions here!¡± Shaking his head, Weiss turned back to Vargas. ¡°I apologize. Perhaps I should be speaking with the captain here, if she¡¯s the one giving you orders¡­?¡± Vargas¡¯s neck went red and I saw the man tremble in his seat. After a moment, he spat. ¡°Get out. Leave. I will be calling governor Vazquez and recommending that he cut all ties with your organization immediately.¡± Snorting softly, Weiss came to attention. ¡°Very well. Good day, Mr. President. Captain.¡± I watched as my second in command spun on his heel and marched from the room. A moment later, the guard on the door closed it. Vargas stood from his seat and made his way over to a liquor cabinet in the corner. Opening it, he began pouring himself a drink. It was only when he had downed the first glass and started in on the second that he turned a furious look on the political officer. ¡°You spoke out of turn and humiliated me in front of a guest. Emasculated me¡ª¡± The captain cut him off with a slicing motion of her hand. ¡°Quit yapping, capitalist dog! You¡¯re only useful to us as long as you quietly cooperate.¡± She glared at the door for a moment before shifting her gaze back to Vargas. ¡°Declare this Vazquez a traitor. He¡¯s obviously working with the enemy. Send in the military and have him dragged from his home out into the street and shot. Him, his family, and everyone who works for him. As for the Imperialist mercenaries, I would say kill them all, but that man is an Imperial aerial mage. They won¡¯t go down without a fight. Better to drive them out. I¡¯ll report back and send word to the motherland. If you can¡¯t drive them out within a month, they¡¯ll send a few squads of our own aerial mages. Though, given they¡¯ve obviously fled the empire, perhaps we could get the Americans to do our work for us?¡± The woman shook her head and stormed off for the doors, making her exit. ¡°I¡¯ll be in my room typing up my report and recommendation. See that I¡¯m not disturbed.¡± Vargas waited as the woman slammed the door behind her. Moving around his desk, he collapsed back into his chair with a sigh. ¡°Bitch.¡± Leaving him there for now, I pulled away from the window and climbed back into the room next door, my mind turning over everything I had seen and observed. A commie aerial mage turned political officer, sent here very recently to sit on Vargas and make sure he¡¯s falling in line. She looked like she was only seconds from going for her sidearm. I think only knowing Weiss was a mage himself and was wearing his computation orb kept her from doing it. She obviously hates Vargas and the feeling seems mutual. I think I can use this, but I¡¯ll need to check some things first. Commies are like cockroaches. Where there¡¯s one, there are usually a dozen more hiding where you can¡¯t see them. There was a silver lining in all of this. An opportunity, in fact. The thing about Russy aerial mages is that the vast majority of them were fresh faced new recruits, while the rest were former political prisoners, stuffed in the gulag. We had noticed some rather glaring differences between these two classes of aerial mage when we encountered them in the field. The older, more experienced ones belonging to the previous political regime, before ¡®Comrade Joseph¡¯ took over were all competent. Not especially good at any one thing, but decent enough mages. I wouldn¡¯t trade a single member of my unit for a hundred of them, but they were competent enough. The younger, new recruits, were trained to entirely different standards. They knew between three and five formulas and according to interrogations, all formulas beyond that were expressly forbidden. The primary three were flight, shields, and explosive formulas. The other acceptable ones were combat formulas like mage blade and a sniping formula, an NBC shield, and some basic healing formulas. They were not allowed to branch out into other fields, such as illusions, under penalty of death. They were also, to a one, absolutely shit at detecting them because in order to detect them, you had to have experience and exposure to them, and using them was prohibited. Meaning they couldn¡¯t even have the older mages train the newer ones against illusions to make sure they weren¡¯t vulnerable to them. This was one of the reasons why they tended to have one or two of the older soldiers with the younger ones, to spot for things like that, since the new recruits couldn¡¯t. And Captain Sokolov is very much a new recruit. She didn¡¯t even notice my presence. I¡¯ll need to test to confirm, but if it¡¯s as bad as I think, I can use this. Moving through the room, I silently made my way deeper into the villa. A formula boosted my hearing and I poked my head into every open door to check what it was and who was occupying it. Eventually, I found what I was looking for. The entrance to the basement, or wine cellar, was guarded by two men armed with SMGs. From beyond the door, I could hear the sounds of typewriters going and people quietly talking. Making a mental note of where the room was, I found an open window leading outside and made my way around the building. Eventually, I found a window leading down into the basement. Checking to make sure it wasn¡¯t being observed, I formed a bubble of silence and an illusion over it showing it to be closed and used my combat knife to pop the latch, then slipped inside and closed it up before dispelling the illusion. Finding myself in a quiet back corner of the cellar, behind several wine casks that had been shoved into the back, I moved past them and took in the rest of the basement. The room had been converted into what was apparently a wiretapping post, just as I¡¯d hoped. Communists, you see, are a paranoid lot. Of course they are all afraid of external threats, but the thing the communist is most afraid of is his own people. After all, if people got sick of starving and suffering under the communist boot, those in power, the bourgeoisie, would be the first to go¡ªand they knew it. This was why the Secret Police conducted a reign of terror across the Soviet Union in my first life, urging people to report their family and neighbors for every perceived slight, every instance of not being patriotic enough, or just of thinking wrong. It was a highly exploitable vulnerability, if you knew where to look, and how to take advantage. Phone lines were strung across the floor and a group of men and women sat around a table, typing rapidly at typewriters as they transcribed every conversation passing through the building¡¯s phone lines¡ªof which there were apparently four. Moving closer, I took detailed photos of each operative before moving away, keeping an eye on them as I formulated my plan. Yes¡­ the plan. The same plan that I was making up during the op itself. Now I''m glad that I decided to conduct it myself. Opportunity only ever knocks once, and not everyone hears it. But I did. Weiss¡¯s plan was stellar, of course. I¡¯d expect nothing less of my second in command. However, as the saying goes, no plan survives contact with the enemy. That can be during direct confrontation or when your boots on the ground discover new, critical information that requires quick thinking and improvisation to act upon and make the most of an opportunity. My pieces. A paranoid zampolit, an annoyed president under pressure, bad blood between them and myself¡ªa skilled stealth mage with a specialization in illusion magic right in their midst unbeknownst to them all. How can I set them all up in a domino line and have me and mine come out on top? What can I¡ª? The pieces clicked in my head and I felt a grin stretch across my lips. Of course. I slipped out of the room the same way I¡¯d come in and made my way back inside. I checked to make sure the president was still where I¡¯d left him before making the call to move forward. Following my mana senses, I tracked down the captain. I could smell the stink of burning tobacco through the door and hear the sound of furious typing as she hammered away at whatever report she was making. I¡¯m going to have to stop and get the report and the ribbon before I leave. Don¡¯t want the commies figuring out what was said during Weiss¡¯s visit if they send someone up to investigate. Taking a breath, I prepared myself for the plan to fail, pulling my knife and getting ready for a fight, if I needed to silence the captain. Then, I cast an illusion of one of the men from the listening post, putting him right in the middle of the hallway. Stretching my senses, I observed the captain still hammering away at her typewriter for any sign she had noticed. When I sensed none, I moved the illusion up and hammered on the door. The illusion shouted in the man¡¯s voice. ¡°Captain! Captain Sokolov!¡± The woman stopped typing and hurried across the room, throwing open the door and exposing the room beyond¡ªa bedroom with a table set up with a typewriter and lamp in the corner, beside the open window, a cigarette still burning away in an ash tray on it. ¡°Yes, Ivan. What is it?¡± ¡°It¡¯s an emergency, ma¡¯am! We just intercepted a call from the president. He¡¯s warned governor Vazquez and is urging him to send a squadron of aerial mages to come eliminate us!¡± ¡°That son of a bitch!¡± Sokolov¡¯s brown eyes went wide at that. Pulling her pistol, she rushed forward and I had the illusion move out of the way as she pushed by, tossing out orders over her shoulder. ¡°Inform the others! Evacuation plan three!¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am!¡± I dropped the illusion and followed at a run as the captain cleared a path. I quickly created a new illusion, of one of the Brasan soldiers at the front door, and had the illusion run after her as I kept pace. The captain shoved aside the guard standing in front of the president¡¯s door as she kicked it in. ¡°Stop her! She¡¯s trying to assassinate el presidente!¡± I had the illusion behind me yell, and the door guard hastily picked himself up just as the captain screamed from inside the room. ¡°Die traitor!¡± The woman fired several rounds into Vargas just as the door guard got to the door and turned his SMG on the woman. For just a moment, her shield popped into existence, deflecting the bullets as she turned and leveled a crazed glare and her gun at the guard. For just a moment, just a second, I reached out with my mana¡­ and crushed her shield. It shattered and a look of shock crossed her face, just before the rest of the magazine¡¯s worth of bullets the guard was hosing her down with hit. Her upper body and head were turned into little more than meat and her body fell to the ground. Behind me, I had the guard illusion duck into a room before I shut it down, while I slipped into another room myself as people began shouting and rushing about, filling the halls and coming to see what was going on. Laughing silently, I cast another illusion, this time just a voice seemingly from the crowd itself. ¡°It¡¯s a coup! The communists are staging a coup! We have to fight back before they kill us all!¡± More gunfire broke out as the crowd was galvanized, soldiers of Brasa turning their guns on the communists and killing them as they began hunting the commies in their midst down. I made my way out the window. With no other mages around, I engaged a flight formula and hurried to the captain¡¯s room, closing and locking her bedroom door. Grabbing her report and the typewriter ribbon, I quickly rummaged through her things. I threw all of her documents into a bag, the hurried back out the window, back to the president¡¯s office. With the man himself quite clearly dead and the enemy mage likewise, and everyone too busy dealing with the sudden firefight in the building to worry about a couple of corpses, I had the place to myself for a few moments. I took advantage by stealing the captain¡¯s computation orb¡ªthe one piece of recording equipment that might point to the presence of a second mage being responsible for this incident. Evidence secured, I fled out the window and poured on the speed back to the airfield, sending a quick coded transmission along the way. ¡°Operation complete. End diversion early, but don¡¯t arouse suspicion. Potential for combat with locals fair.¡± Now, let¡¯s hope we can get in the air before word of the assassination reaches the airfield and they decide to lock down air traffic to prevent any commies from fleeing. 12 A Young Girl¡¯s Outer Heaven 12
Commissioned by Aigloss.
As the plane touched down and we reapplied our invisibility formulas, I received a transmission. ¡°Control for Colonel von Degurechaff. Repeat, control for¡ª¡± ¡°Go ahead, control,¡± I responded quietly as the plane moved across the runway, slowing as it braked and turned towards the hangars. ¡°Ma¡¯am, the governor is here. He¡¯s been trying to reach you since just after noon. We¡¯ve delayed him by telling him you¡¯re off duty and we can¡¯t find you, but he¡¯s here now and insisting we send a patrol to find you. He says it¡¯s urgent.¡± ¡°Give us ten minutes and wait for Weiss to get there. Weiss, escort him down to my usual spot on the beach.¡± I had some idea what he wanted. Most likely, he had gotten a call from Brasilia informing him of the assassination of the president. At a guess, he was coming to speak with me about beefing up security in the face of the commie threat, but if it were me, I¡¯d be coming to verify that my business partner hadn¡¯t had anything to do with it. To that end¡­ I turned to where I knew Visha and Grantz to be, despite not being able to see them. ¡°Visha, we¡¯ll head back and get changed into our swimsuits. Grantz, head down to the kitchen and get several of those beers I know you all keep in the refrigerator, and dig out a few empty bottles from the trash, then bring them down.¡± I got quiet acknowledgments from both and, a few moments later, the plane came to a stop. Weiss hurried back and opened the door and the four of us flew out, with Weiss taking his time on his way back to base. I flew straight into my bedroom via the balcony and landed, where I began stripping out of the sneaking suit immediately, dropping my invisibility formula. Visha landed a moment after and did the same. As much as I might have liked to enjoy the view, we were in a hurry here. We were dressed and had a couple of towels and our usual beach gear gathered up and back under the veil of invisibility within five minutes and down to the beach a minute after that. As soon as we landed, we began setting our things up and, shortly after, an invisible Grantz landed and dropped off the requested beer and empties, and an ice box. ¡°Grantz, gather up some wood and start a fire, then head out,¡± I ordered, and he hurried to comply while we set the scene. Visha slipped into the water for a quick dip, before coming back out and laying herself out under the shade of a parasol. I heard her crack open and drain one of the bottles before grabbing another and closing her eyes. I stole her bottle and took a quick swig myself just so it would smell like I¡¯d snuck at least one bottle, before grabbing my fishing spear and diving into the water as Grantz got the fire lit and presumably took off. I stayed down, spearing a couple of fish, until Weiss radioed as he approached¡ªnot verbally, just a short morse transmission letting me know he was here. Surfacing from the river, I sucked in air and rose just over the surface, flying lazily back to my sandals, pretending I didn¡¯t see Weiss and Pedro as they approached from up the beach. ¡°Colonel!¡± Weiss called just as I spun up a mage blade and began turning fish into food. I turned, effecting surprise as I saw the pair of men. Visha likewise tilted her head and looked, before sitting up and making a sitting salute. ¡°Lt. Col. Weiss¡ª¡± ¡°At ease, captain. You¡¯re off duty,¡± he chuckled. ¡°Weiss, Pedro. You¡¯ve got good timing. I just caught dinner. Care to join us? There might still be some drinks in the cooler,¡± I offered with a smile, before going back to cleaning fish and setting them up near the fire to wait for it to die down. ¡°I¡¯m afraid this isn¡¯t a social call, colonel,¡± Pedro sighed, and I turned a curious look on him before moving over to the waves to wash my hands. Coming back, I shook them off and began grabbing the clothes I¡¯d brought with me. Pulling on a long, light shirt that doubled as a short skirt given its length, I buttoned it up and asked, ¡°I see. What brings you, then?¡± ¡°Presidente Vargas has been assassinated.¡± I pretended to freeze, looking down as I considered that information. ¡°It was the commies, then? I doubt you would be here, if it was an internal matter. Some local or another politician.¡± Pedro sighed at that. ¡°A ¡®political officer¡¯ was apparently sent, along with a team of others under her command, who set up surveillance on the president¡¯s residence and office. Shortly after Lt. Col. Weiss left, she apparently snapped and assassinated him. No one knows why, just that it devolved into a firefight and now, Brasilia is under lock down. The government is going to hold a funeral and then assign someone to replace him until an election can be held.¡± Snapping my gaze to Weiss, I ordered, ¡°Tighten security around the governor. Increased patrols. Do a second round of background checks and begin surveillance on everyone close to him just to make sure the communists haven¡¯t gotten to someone in his staff.¡± Sending the governor a raised eyebrow, I asked, ¡°I assume you want to throw your hat in the ring?¡± ¡°I do,¡± Pedro nodded. ¡°I disliked the man he had become, but Julio was still our presidente. He deserved better than to be put down like a dog by some rabid foreign idealist. This is an act of war on the part of the Russy Federation, and it¡¯s time we started treating their little invasion as the same. I want them out of my country, but in order to ensure that happens legally, I¡¯ll need to be in the position to make it happen.¡± I nodded, understanding the unspoken message perfectly. He had come to mirror our own thoughts on the future election. It¡¯s always good to have the ¡®official¡¯ green light on such plans. ¡°We¡¯ll make preparations to attend the meeting,¡± I said, glancing at Weiss, who nodded. ¡°In fact, I¡¯ll go personally. I trust my men implicitly, but it might be best to put in some face time.¡± ¡°Yes. It would be best if people got used to seeing you around. If this works out in our favor, they will be seeing a lot more of the two of us together,¡± he chuckled. ¡°I will let you know when the meeting is to be held. Until then, I would like it if you could get a head start on surveillance and intelligence gathering in Sao Paolo. If you can discover who is leading them, we can cut the head off of the snake.¡± ¡°I¡¯m afraid that with communists, it¡¯s more of a hydra than a snake,¡± I shook my head wryly. ¡°There always seems to be a new head anytime you cut one off. But I¡¯ll send some men and see what we can do. You want me to just send you the bill?¡± ¡°Yes. Consider all expenses for this mission pre-approved. Whatever it takes. If we win, I¡¯ll have your costs covered out of the treasury and retroactively make it an official mission on behalf of the government of Brasa. If not¡­ Well, it needs to be done, regardless. You can¡¯t put a price on your country¡¯s freedom.¡± ¡°Weiss?¡± My second in command nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll get started as soon as I get back and brief everyone in the morning, before we make our final selections for the team.¡± ¡°That¡¯s fine.¡± Looking to Pedro, I asked, ¡°Was there anything else?¡± ¡°Nothing at the moment. Enjoy the rest of your day off,¡± he sent us a smile before turning and heading back up the beach, Weiss leaving with him. When they were out of sight through the trees, I let out a quiet sigh, only to yelp as I found myself grabbed from behind. Visha giggled and began undoing the buttons on my shirt. ¡°Let¡¯s go swimming for a bit before we eat. And that beer isn¡¯t going to drink itself.¡± ¡°¡­I probably shouldn¡¯t,¡± I murmured, but didn¡¯t fight her off as she finished undoing my shirt, then pulled me towards the water after tossing it onto my towel. ¡°It¡¯ll be fine~! It¡¯s not like there¡¯s anyone around to see you let your hair down but me.¡± Considering it for a moment, I chuckled. ¡°I suppose you¡¯re right. Fine then.¡± Pulling my hair back, Visha hummed quietly. ¡°It¡¯s getting long. When we get back, I¡¯ll cut it.¡± Fish were eaten and the cooler of beer finished off. My body, which should have been an absolute lightweight given that it was a virgin to alcohol, was apparently completely immune to the effects of drink. It made sense, unfortunately. My body was made almost entirely of mana at the moment, so of course it wouldn¡¯t have any effect on me. I¡¯d have to wait until I regained most of my biology before trying again if I wanted to enjoy the buzz I was unfortunately all too familiar with from my life as a Japanese salaryman. We spent the rest of the evening on the beach, until it got dark enough that we decided to head back. True to her word, as soon as we got back and had a shower to wash the sand and salt out, Visha took the time to trim my hair up into my preferred style. Then, it was off to bed to sleep before the morning¡¯s briefing.
The weekend following the assassination of President Vargas, Visha woke up late, long after her boss/superior had left for the day. Stretching out, she took her time getting out of bed and taking a shower. Changing into casual clothes as soon as she was dry, she put on her computation orb and grabbed her purse and shopping bag, before leaving the garrison. Heading into town, she was greeted with smiles from locals and German immigrants alike. Most people she met knew who she was already¡ªor if not who she was specifically, who she was in relation to MSF and the colonel. Weiss may have been the second in command, but Viktoriya was the pretty public face of their company and the colonel¡¯s left hand. She didn¡¯t abuse it, but it did tend to make things go a whole lot more smoothly, open a lot of doors, and generally made people much more willing to take care of whatever she needed. She stopped in a German cafe on the riverfront for a breakfast of coffee and a pastry and took her time eating outside, enjoying the breeze. Once she was finished, Visha made her way into the open air market. She had a little arts and crafts project in mind and needed some materials to make it work. It didn¡¯t take long at all to find the first part of what she was looking for. ¡°Good morning!¡± she chirped to the man running the stall, looking over the small silver trinkets laid out in front of him. ¡°Good morning, senorita! Can I interest you in something?¡± ¡°Hmm, that depends~,¡± Visha smiled, leaning forward just a bit and showing a hint of recently tan cleavage down the top of her sun dress. The man¡¯s eyes predictably dropped where she wanted them and she held in a laugh. ¡°Are these all made of silver?¡± ¡°They are,¡± he nodded, his eyes still glued to her breasts. ¡°That¡¯s good. Do you shape them yourself?¡± At that, he actually looked up and met her eyes. ¡°I do. I have molds for everything.¡± ¡°I see, I see,¡± she murmured. ¡°If I wanted to pay for a custom order in bulk, could you make it?¡± The man hummed, considering her, before his eyes trailed down again¡ªnot to her cleavage this time, but just above it, to the computation orb hanging on her necklace. By now, most of the locals could recognize them on sight and knew that anyone wearing one belonged to their group. After a moment, he asked, ¡°How large an order, and how soon would you need it?¡± ¡°As soon as you can, and at least a hundred pieces of each design. I have four.¡± Opening her purse, Visha pulled out a notebook and flipped to the page where she had carefully sketched out her designs. Those were: a crucifix in the shape of those that had adorned their uniforms and some of their computation orbs in the Imperial military, a pentagram of the sort most commonly used in written formulas, a hexagram used for the same, and a final one that looked like a bird¡ªtaken from a certain assault medal, if one looked closely. The man whistled quietly and nodded. ¡°I can make them. It will take some time to carve the molds, however.¡± ¡°If you¡¯ll let me, I can help with that. Magic allows for that sort of precision carving easily,¡± Visha offered, and after a moment of thought, he nodded. ¡°If you could do it today, it would allow me to cast the silver tonight and I could have it all ready tomorrow. For a rush job like this, the price is going to be¡ª¡± ¡°Whatever you think is fair,¡± Visha smiled. Chuckling, he nodded. ¡°Alright, senorita. Come find me at noon and we¡¯ll go to my shop.¡± ¡°Thank you~!¡± Visha beamed and left with a skip in her step. Casting about with her senses, she felt what she was hoping to and made a beeline for her second stop. A stall on the other side of the market was home to an older woman selling jewelry¡ªbracelets, necklaces, and the like made mostly of beads. Looking them over, Visha saw that many of them were a familiar red material that seemed to shine with their own inner light, while a few were of a green and blue variety that she had usually seen only in the company of her enemies, and a golden type she had never seen before. ¡°Like what you see, senorita?¡± the old woman asked, and Visha beamed. ¡°Very much so. Tell me, these beads,¡± she reached out and touched one of the red ones, ¡°where did you get them?¡± ¡°Ah, well. There were some leftovers from an old mine or two. Nothing anyone would miss!¡± she quickly added, and Visha nodded. ¡°They were shut down years ago, after all.¡± ¡°Of course. That¡¯s a shame. They¡¯re beautiful. Tell me, do you think you could sell me these beads. I¡¯d like to buy as many as you have, of this type,¡± she tapped the red, green, blue, and gold elinium beads.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°Ah, well, I don¡¯t know¡­ That stone is very rare these days. Very sought after,¡± she glanced down at the computation orb hanging from Visha¡¯s neck, ¡°as I¡¯m sure you know.¡± ¡°Oh, I do,¡± Visha nodded. ¡°Name your price.¡± ¡°Well, I couldn¡¯t part with them for less than¡­¡± Visha nodded along and, after a little ritual dickering over the price, the matter was settled and she left with a large bag full of beads. Before she left however, she asked, ¡°You wouldn¡¯t happen to know where the gold ones were mined, would you?¡± ¡°Ah, I think it was El Dorado.¡± Visha blinked. ¡°As in¡­?¡± The woman laughed. ¡°No, no. It¡¯s just the nickname given to the mine for this unique golden color. It¡¯s up in the north of the country.¡± ¡°Ah. Thank you,¡± Visha nodded, before going on her way. She still had some time to kill before noon, so she flew back to the garrison to drop off her spoils. Taking a bead of each color with her, she left the room she shared with the colonel and flew across the island, to the isolated bunker where they were keeping Professor Schugel. Passing through security quickly, it didn¡¯t take long to find the man, in his lab and busy working on some new project with several of his assistants¡ªsomething to do with a computation orb, based on the pieces she saw scattered across the table. Knocking at the door as she let herself in, Visha smiled as she called, ¡°Professor, do you have a moment?¡± The man looked up and his thunderous expression at being interrupted was quickly replaced with a smile. ¡°Ah, Viktoriya! Good morning. What brings you?¡± ¡°I come bearing gifts!¡± she giggled and held out her hand, showing off the beads. Schugel zeroed in on them and practically flew across the room. Leaning over her hand, he reached up and adjusted the lens attachments for his glasses. ¡°Such color! Such purity! And this one!¡± He carefully plucked the golden bead from her hand. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen elinium in this color before.¡± ¡°I hadn¡¯t either. That¡¯s why I thought of you when I did. I asked after the mine they were taken from. Apparently, it¡¯s in the north of the country. An old, abandoned mine the locals call El Dorado.¡± Schugel quickly took the other three beads and looked over to his assistants. ¡°Everyone, keep working. I need to run some tests.¡± He turned back to Visha with a mad grin. ¡°Thank you, Ms. Serebryakov. You¡¯ve made this old man¡¯s day!¡± ¡°I¡¯m glad,¡± Visha giggled. ¡°Please share the results once you know something, okay?¡± ¡°Of course, of course! We wouldn¡¯t want to waste a valuable resource if it turns out to be viable. I¡¯ll forward the results of my tests to the colonel.¡± Nodding, Visha asked, ¡°But you can confirm that it is elinium and should be fine for use in magical tools?¡± ¡°My girl, I don¡¯t need to test for that. You can see it for yourself! I¡¯m sure that as a mage, you can even sense it?¡± he asked, and she nodded. ¡°There you go. Perfectly fine for whatever you want to put it in.¡± ¡°Thanks, professor.¡± With that, she left the professor to his experiments and went to occupy herself until it was time for her noon appointment.
The next evening Visha gathered her bag, left the garrison, and made her way across the small island to the castle to their north. She was waved through security at the entrance and made her way through the newly renovated halls to an area well away from the main section of the castle. After a corner and well off the beaten path, a thick, steel door stood blocking off the corridor. She produced a key from her bag and slipped it into the lock. Turning the key, previously hidden script on the door lit up with mana and she cast a formula to unlock the second, magical half of the lock. Slipping inside, she closed the door behind herself, which locked again with a solid thunk of steel bolts sliding home. Following the corridor a short distance, she turned off into a side room and shut the door behind herself. The room was full of lockers and benches, and wouldn¡¯t have been out of place in any gymnasium or barracks. Opening her personal locker, she changed out of her sun dress and pulled on the black and white robe hanging inside with a sigh. This is so silly, she rolled her eyes, hanging her sundress up. Collecting her bag, she left the locker room and made her way to the wooden door at the end of the hall. Opening it, she looked over the chapel inside with pews full of off duty soldiers¡ªeven some of the officers. She spotted Grantz and his wife up in the front, the blonde woman now several months along in her pregnancy. Putting on a smile, Visha made her way up front as quiet conversations fell silent and all eyes turned to her. ¡°Good evening, everyone~!¡± she called as she reached the front and set her bag down on a table beside the podium where she would normally speak. From under the podium, she took out a brass donation pan and placed it on the table beside the bag. ¡°It¡¯s good to see you all again. So, before we begin, I have something for you all! A little something Dr. Schugel and I put together. We worked extra hard on them!¡± ¡°Herr Schugel made another breakthrough? Again?¡± someone asked, and she nodded, laughing quietly. ¡°A small one. We¡¯ve put together some simple defensive charms made from a newly discovered miracle material. They should allow even civilians to activate a defensive shield capable of withstanding an explosive formula¡ªmore, even, if you charge it. And that¡¯s the trick! Any mage can charge them and it stores mana indefinitely.¡± Opening the bag, she reached in and pulled out a string of beads long enough to be a short necklace, with a silver bird dangling from the middle. Holding up her left wrist, Visha showed off her own bracelet as people began gathering around and looking them over. Hers had a pentagram and hexagram hanging together where it was clasped closed. ¡°How much?¡± Grantz asked, taking one of the shorter ones with a cross on the end and looking it over. Visha grinned. ¡°No limit that we¡¯ve found. There are enough for everyone. I have some you can attach to your uniform or your weapon, bracelets, and necklaces.¡± Finding the end and the golden thread holding it together, Grantz quietly asked, ¡°Is this what I think it is?¡± ¡°Yes. It¡¯s her hair.¡± The chapel fell silent at that¡ªtalismans made from the colonel¡¯s own hair resting on their trembling palms, as if they were holding the feathers of one of God¡¯s own angels in their hands. Normally, the results of Schugel¡¯s tests on the colonel would have been kept private, just between the doctor and the colonel. However, Colonel von Degurechaff had thought it prudent to share them with Weiss and Visha¡ªWeiss because he was her second in command, Visha because Tanya knew Viktoriya had the ear of the whole operation. That, and she wanted to assure both them and the rest of the unit that she was fit and healthy, ready for duty, and not likely to keel over¡ªor explode, again. They had proof now of the miracle of the colonel¡¯s survival and the aftermath¡ªof what she had become. That proof had only driven the budding¡­ she wouldn¡¯t call it a cult exactly¡ªbut it had only fueled their belief in divine intervention. That the colonel was some kind of saint, or had transcended into an angel of the Lord. Visha knew how the colonel would have felt about it¡ªshe would have reacted¡­ explosively, really. As in with explosive formulas. That was why they kept things quiet. Thankfully, that was easy enough to do as what was effectively the head priestess of the Church of Saint Tanya¡ªa position she¡¯d found herself thrown into on the voyage over, as the colonel¡¯s closest confidante and adjutant. No one bothered Tanya about it. Everyone did their work and acted like the consummate professionals they were in her presence. They kept their worship and prayer behind closed doors. She thought it was a bit silly, honestly¡ªbut it made them feel better so it was better to manage things from the inside and make sure they didn¡¯t get out of hand, or get any strange ideas. ¡­Stranger than they already had. To go along with that proof they had learned some other interesting things. For instance, the colonel¡¯s actual biological samples¡ªwhat blood and skin Schugel could get and her hair¡ªwere all saturated with the colonel¡¯s mana. They accepted, channeled, and more importantly stored mana¡ªfixed it in place the same way the colonel did, all by themselves. Any sample was effectively a mana battery. Herr Doktor Schugel explained it as being somewhat like the function of Tanya¡¯s old Type 95 computation orb in that way. Those samples could fix and channel a seemingly unlimited amount of mana¡ªbetter than elinium, even. Combine that with some simple silver plates inscribed with a basic shield formula and you had a shield you could charge in your off time and use as needed, or which would activate under specific conditions¡ªin this case, they had programmed them to react to gunfire or hostile spells. Or, such as in the case of Grantz, a shield he could charge for his wife. They were effectively single purpose magical foci/tools. ¡°Divine protection from the saint herself,¡± someone whispered. ¡°This could change the war.¡± ¡°No, this could change the world,¡± another replied. ¡°Just another day for the colonel, am I right?¡± Visha laughed. ¡°I¡¯m sure she¡¯s just going to keep going until she¡¯s saved everyone.¡± They all looked at her strangely for some reason, eyes wide and jaws hanging loose, and Visha had to wonder if this was how it felt for the colonel whenever she addressed them from a stage. She couldn¡¯t imagine why they were doing this now, she was just telling them what they already knew about the colonel after all. However, Visha didn¡¯t get to put more thought into before the first man quickly marched forward, fished out some money from his pocket and putting it in the donation pan. ¡°I¡¯ll take two!¡± he said, hurriedly attaching the first talisman to his uniform as fast as he could¡ªas if it were his lifeline. ¡°Three for me!¡± Others rushed to do likewise. ¡°I need five for my whole family!¡± ¡°Likewise,¡± Grantz slapped his money down, reverently taking the necklace Visha had held and putting it around his wife¡¯s neck, who beamed happily. Individually, each piece was priced based on how much materials it had cost to make, plus a twenty-five percent markup. Her own labor going into them had been minimal¡ªit was more work doing all the running around to get all of the materials than it was to use a common beauty formula the girls in the mage corps all shared for doing their hair to put all the pieces together. And while the initial funds to buy the materials had come out of their treasury, specifically the spoils of war fund, she would be putting that right back and pocketing the rest to reinvest and do it all again later. I can make a little extra money on the side and make something useful to protect my friends and their families. It¡¯s a win/win! Once everyone had what they wanted, Visha put the bag and collection pan away, tucking the money into her bag as she did. Then, she settled into her usual position at the podium. ¡°Alright, everyone. We¡¯ll start on this side,¡± she pointed to the far right, front pew. ¡°Do you have any concerns? Anything you¡¯d like to address to the saint?¡± The man in question glanced at his wife briefly, who sent him an encouraging look. Standing, he said, ¡°I¡¯ve heard from some contacts with sources in the south that the communists have started a campaign of fire bombing factories to attempt to incite the workers to rise up, and it¡¯s working in places. What can we do to make sure that doesn¡¯t happen here?¡± ¡°Mm, that is serious. I¡¯ll bring it up with the colonel,¡± Visha nodded. It was a good question though. She was still young when her parents had taken her and fled when the communists took over, but she remembered her father complaining of similar acts in the lead up to the staged ¡®revolution¡¯ that had killed so many. Of communist sympathizers and agitators, the media, college professors, and others¡ªeducated idiots her papa called them¡ªwho had approached the common folks, the factory workers and the like, and convinced them they were being taken advantage of as a consequence of the industrial revolution. Then, after burning their places of business, they had rallied those workers together, stirred them up into an angry mob, and with nowhere left to go back to because their workplaces were destroyed, that mob had sought out the targets the agitators had aimed them at. So, how would we stop that from happening again, here? The best way would probably be¡­ Yes. Get to the people first. ¡°As for what you can do personally? Community outreach. We are new to this country. Guests. We should reach out and embrace our neighbors. Show them that we¡¯re good, kind people. Get to know them. Learn what they value and their fears. Show them the value of community and of their own hard work, and what we can do together. Tell them of what life was like at home, before the war, and those of you who saw it, of what it was like when the Russy Federation started sending their civilian ¡®emigrants¡¯ over to sell the average worker on their ideals. That way, if the communist agitators do come to attack the factories, they will not find a group of downtrodden people who believe they are being taken advantage of and that the ideal of some communist utopia will liberate them. They will instead find a group of people who take pride in what they do, in the jobs they have, the life they¡¯re able to give to their families, and see the agitators as the threat they are. They will fight back. When the sympathizers speak of how supposedly good and fair things are under communism in the Russy Federation, they will see them for the snake oil salesmen they are. But most importantly, you need to teach your own children of our values and the evils of communism, because it is through our children that they will try to take our nation. Not in the span of a day, but in the course of fifteen to twenty years. Enough time to educate a generation of children in their beliefs, stealing them from their families.¡± Smiling, she asked, ¡°Anything else?¡± ¡°No, priestess. Thank you.¡± He sat down and she moved on to the next down the line. ¡°And you? What troubles you?¡± ¡°You mentioned children. There are no public schools here and their excuse for education is abysmal. What should we do?¡± Humming, she considered it for a moment, before nodding. ¡°This isn¡¯t really an issue for the colonel. I¡¯ll bring it up with the governor. I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll be happy to allocate some funds to build a school and hire teachers. Until then, we¡¯ll just have to lean on each other for support. Get together with the other parents and see what you can organize. Those who are off duty can take the responsibility on in a rotation. Those wives who have the time could volunteer. It sounds like what we¡¯ll need most is books and a curriculum, however. So I¡¯ll see about sourcing some materials when I speak with governor Vazquez. Perhaps we can arrange a flight back to Germany to purchase some materials. Otherwise, perhaps we can source them from the States.¡± And so it went, as she saw to the needs of her¡­ flock. I never thought I would go from fleeing the communists in the dead of night, to fighting a war against them, to literally preaching against them.
A shiver ran down my spine and I looked up from my work. A feeling of unease settled in the pit of my stomach. Glancing at the open balcony doors, I shook my head. It must have just been a cold breeze. ¡­Yes, a cold breeze in the eternal summer of the equatorial zone. After a moment, I sighed and forced myself to get back to work. Either I¡¯m getting paranoid or superstitious. I¡¯m not certain which is worse.
There was a knock at the door and Captain Serge Gorbachev blew out a gray sigh of smoke at the interruption. ¡°Enter.¡± ¡°Captain, that report from Brasilia,¡± his visitor hurried in and handed over several sheets of paper. ¡°You¡¯ve read it already, commander?¡± he asked, and the other man nodded. ¡°Da.¡± ¡°Summarize it for me, then. I want to hear what you think in your own words before I read it.¡± The commander nodded. ¡°The afternoon of the incident, President Vargas had a guest, one Lt. Col. Weiss of a,¡± he made a disgusted face, ¡°mercenary company, visiting on behalf of the governor of Bellum. They spoke for a time and witnesses report that there was shouting from the captain before the Lt. Col. left. After which, the captain went to her room to write her official report. From here, the facts are less certain. According to witnesses, the captain rushed through the halls and accused the president of being a traitor, before killing him on the spot. There is no evidence to back up her claim. No audio recordings of intercepted telephone calls, no witnesses with information to show that the man was a traitor. Seemingly, she deduced this out of the blue and attacked him, before being killed herself.¡± Gorbachev frowned. ¡°Capt. Sokolov was a trained aerial mage. One of the new batch, certainly, but no mere soldier should have been able to take down her shield.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know, sir. The report doesn¡¯t say how it happened, just that it did.¡± Humming, Gorbachev asked, ¡°What about her computation orb. There would have been a log. A report that would tell us what happened in those last moments. Or at least a list of her last used formulas and any readings from enemy mages.¡± The commander shook his head. ¡°Unknown, sir. Either it was destroyed or stolen before our people got there to claim the body. But if it had¡­ malfunctioned or been stolen, that could explain how the guard took her down.¡± Or if she lost it due to incompetence, Gorbachev interpreted the unspoken part. Still, it made sense. It was a well known fact that Russy orbs made after Comrade Joseph¡¯s takeover and deciding that mages were suddenly needed again were garbage compared to those made before, let alone those the enemy made. It was so likely that it had broken that he was almost willing to write it in his own report. Speaking of reports, where was hers? ¡°What of the report she was to make?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know, sir. It looks as though she never started. The ribbon of her typewriter was recently changed and a sheet of paper loaded, but nothing had been written recently. Her room was also thoroughly searched and likely looted prior to our men arriving.¡± ¡°Damn.¡± Reaching out, he stubbed out his cigarette in the ash tray and tapped out another, before offering the pack to the commander, who took one. They took a moment to light their smokes before Gorbachev asked, ¡°And this ¡®Weiss?¡¯ The name sounds Imperial.¡± ¡°No information on him. He¡¯s completely unknown to us. Not part of governor Vazquez¡¯s inner circle according to our intelligence on the area, but that intelligence is a year old.¡± Gorbachev nodded. ¡°Very well. Send a small unit north, to Bellum. Have them look into this Weiss and interrogate the governor on what they spoke of.¡± ¡°Yes, captain. One last thing. The state funeral for President Vargas is to be held tomorrow in Brasilia, followed by the referendum where they will decide who will replace him in the interim, until elections. Should we send someone?¡± The captain considered for a moment before nodding. ¡°Yes. Send someone to go lean on them and remind them to keep our interests in mind when they make their decision.¡± ¡°Sir!¡± Gorbachev watched the commander leave before leaning back in his chair with a sigh. As if this mess could get any worse. I should just send a request to the motherland for a battalion of aerial mages. Perhaps we could begin cycling them in, training them here, then sending them back home. ¡­If we request teachers from among us old timers, the politburo is going to politely insist that any children and family they have stay home, ¡®for their protection¡¯ of course. Political hostages, in reality. I wish there were something I could do to help my comrades back home, but I¡¯m sure the moment I commit something to paper, my ¡®wife¡¯ will send a message back to command and I¡¯ll be put in front of the firing squad before anything can come of it. Damnit! 13 A Young Girl¡¯s Outer Heaven 13
Commissioned by Aigloss.
If I had realized just how long the funeral was going to be, I¡¯d have just burned the body and the building down around it! Adjusting the tie at the neck of my dress uniform, I pulled off the collared cape that went with it and sighed as I leaned back in my seat, letting the air from the window blow over me. Beside me, Pedro chuckled. ¡°Yes, uniforms can get a bit stuffy in the heat here. You¡¯ll get used to them eventually.¡± An amused smile pulled his mustache up and he cheekily added, ¡°That, or die of heat stroke.¡± ¡°I would almost rather,¡± I admitted. ¡°Visha, pass us some of those drinks, please.¡± Opening the cooler sitting in the front seat between Grantz acting as our driver and Visha as an extra set of eyes, my adjutant passed a couple of bottles back to us. We opened them up and I let out a groan of relief at the feeling of sweet, cold liquid wetting my parched throat. Mana body or not, uncomfortable things were uncomfortable, and I didn¡¯t like the heat any more now than I had when I was a squishy meat person. ¡°How long until the meeting?¡± I asked, and Pedro checked his pocket watch. ¡°Enough time to get an early dinner, or a very late lunch. Shall we?¡± ¡°Sounds good. I¡¯ve never been to Brasilia. Where should we go?¡± I asked, and he hummed. ¡°I know of a nice place not too far from our destination.¡± Soon enough, the four of us shared a quick but good dinner and took the time to swing by our hotel and refresh ourselves, before it was back in the car and to the senate building. Visha got the door for us and I slid out of the car, sweeping the crowd and gathered press, along with rooftops and other lines of sight for potential snipers or other problems. Not seeing anything, I waved for Pedro to get out, then fell into step beside him as we made our way inside, Visha and Grantz taking the car to the parking lot, where they would wait for the next phase of the mission. Over our encrypted mage radio channel, I listened in to final checks. ¡°All teams, ready check and status report,¡± Visha ordered. ¡°Roof Security Team in position and ready.¡± ¡°Ground Security Team in position and ready.¡± ¡°Strike Team holding position, awaiting go/no-go.¡± ¡°Airfield is secure and the Colonel¡¯s ride is fueled up and waiting. Pilot¡¯s on standby.¡± My attention was pulled back to my immediate surroundings as Pedro greeted another older man¡ªanother former four-star general going by his rank insignia and dress uniform. He was a bit bigger than Pedro, a big rounder about the middle as well, but from the way his suit flexed, he was still muscular¡ªjust going to seed, as was the way with retirement or working a desk job. ¡°Marcos! Good to see you again!¡± ¡°You as well, Pedro,¡± the other man laughed, shaking Pedro¡¯s hand. Looking down at me, he raised an eyebrow. ¡°And who¡¯s this? Another granddaughter?¡± Pedro shook his head and laid a land on my shoulder. ¡°No, though at times I wonder if God didn¡¯t send her to me,¡± he chuckled, and I fought off the urge to make a face. ¡°This is Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff, leader and owner of the private military company Militar Sin Fronteras. Tanya, this is my good friend and former coworker, General Marcos Oliveira.¡± ¡°It¡¯s nice to meet you, general,¡± I extended my hand with a smile and he shook reflexively. ¡°You as well, miss¡­¡± He looked between myself and Pedro, a frown forming on his face, even as I frowned at the lack of my proper rank. ¡°This isn¡¯t some sort of elaborate joke, is it?¡± ¡°It is not,¡± Pedro chuckled. Releasing the general¡¯s hand, I said, ¡°Allow me to prove my bona fides. Look down.¡± The general looked down and, with a thought and a bit of mana, I lifted myself two feet off the ground and stayed there for three seconds, before lowering myself back down. The man blinked, his mouth falling open. ¡°Oh. But you¡¯re just a¡ª¡± ¡°I graduated training camp as an aerial mage at the age of nine, whereupon I was promoted to Warrant Officer and assigned as a spotter for an artillery squad on what became the front line of the Great War as my first mission. I was there for the very first incursion by Legadonian troops into Imperial territory and was the first Imperial aerial mage to engage them in combat. I served through the entirety of the war, over the course of six years. I earned the Silver Wings Assault Badge and then the same with Oak Leaves,¡± I tapped the medal in question, hanging on my breast, ¡°among others, but I prefer quality over quantity. I¡¯d rather rely on my magic to provide proof against bullets, not my medals.¡± Of course, the real medal I had been issued was still back in Germany, nailed to the door of a pub alongside those others we had left behind. This was, unfortunately, just a replica. I¡¯d found it already pinned to my dress uniform when I went to put it on for the event. My money was on either Visha or Weiss. I¡¯d have to ask later. For now, it made for a nice, showy piece that I could point to for the purpose of showing that yes, I was a decorated officer with my own commendations and not just a child stuffed into a uniform. The general laughed and Pedro grinned. ¡°Yes, some excuses for officers seem to find any excuse to make themselves look like clowns. It¡¯s one of the easiest ways to tell who has actually served on the front lines and who got their position because of who they knew, not the things they¡¯ve done. Please, forgive me for being rude, colonel.¡± Looking to Pedro, he asked, ¡°This is what you¡¯ve got planned? You plan to run and propose we start training our own mages?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right, old friend,¡± Pedro nodded. ¡°They are incredibly useful. Frightfully so. The colonel¡¯s unit has firsthand experience fighting the Russy Federation. They know how the communists think. After this cowardly assassination of our beloved leader,¡± he laid it on thick and Marco¡¯s lips twitched in amusement, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t rather have anyone else helping us excise the communist cancer before it spreads too far.¡± Marco hummed, considering for a moment, before he chuckled. ¡°I was thinking of stepping up myself, but it seems you¡¯ve put yourself in a better position to do so. Alright, you have my support. Whatever I can do to help, I will.¡± ¡°Spread the good word among our friends. Those whose hearts still beat for our nation, not the empty promises of a foreign master. With any luck, by next year I¡¯ll be voted into office long term and we can make sure this problem never sets foot on our shores again.¡± ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll come find you, after.¡± The general went on his way and Pedro and I made our way further inside, where he introduced me to several more people. Most of them were like Marco¡ªhigh ranking older men and experienced soldiers who had all been let go by Vargas and his administration, over the course of the last year or two. Ever since the commies first showed up and made contact with the president. The lowest rank among that crowd was a colonel like myself. They were all, to a one, incensed over the president¡¯s decisions and policies to date and looking to find a way to course correct the country from the path President Vargas had set for it, against the advice and wishes of his people. It was as we were heading to our seats that Visha slid into view. She gave a bright smile as she walked up to us. ¡°I found something interesting to show you.¡± ¡°Lead the way, Lieutenant,¡± I smiled back, getting a handle on my nerves. Even with all my experience to date, this close to the op I still felt like I¡¯d had entirely too much coffee and was buzzing with nervous energy. With a nod, Visha gracefully weaved through the crowd, Pedro and I followed her close behind until we found ourselves in front of a fine impressionist painting of a Brasan woman working in a cornfield. ¡°Yes, it is a very interesting piece,¡± I said, before continuing quietly, ¡°Sitrep, Lieutenant?¡± ¡°Across the room¡­¡± The woman whispered back as she reached up to ¡®fix¡¯ her soft blonde hair, subtly pointing with her elbow. ¡°Just past my left elbow. Male, tall but slight build, round glasses and the¡ª¡± ¡°The sniveling little man crammed into a Russy officer¡¯s uniform?¡± I sneered, ¡°Balding and his mustache has the tint of orange of a chain smoker?¡± Visha nodded. ¡°He has spoken to two senators so far, this is his third.¡± ¡°Why is that here?¡± Pedro murmured, and my smile became that much wider. ¡°Have they no shame?¡± ¡°No, that don¡¯t,¡± I shook my head. ¡°Commies are utterly without shame, in fact. It¡¯s their nature. To claim moral superiority is to believe they have nothing to be ashamed of. So of course they would send an agent.¡± ¡°If I may, I would like to borrow the colonel for a moment, Pedro?¡± Visha asked. ¡°By all means.¡± He nodded to me, ¡°I will just find a cool corner to loiter in. Come find me whenever you¡¯re finished, Colonel.¡± ¡°What¡¯s this about, Lieutenant? Everything proceeds as planned,¡± I said to her, before subtly glancing at the Russy officer across the room, ¡°Or does our enemy give you pause?¡± ¡°Never, colonel!¡± Visha visibly kept herself from saluting. ¡°Against the Francois, the Commonwealth monarchists, these Russy communists, or the entire world. The 203rd won¡¯t flinch as long as we¡¯re under your command.¡± ¡°Good,¡± I nodded. ¡°The enemies we face with the Russy are the type who will never rest. If it¡¯s not that¡­ then are you still mad about me going off plan the other night?¡± ¡°We would never doubt your judgment,¡± she shook her head, sending blonde locks swaying. ¡°I just want to voice the 203rd¡¯s collective sentiment¡­ ¡° I raised an eyebrow at her. ¡°Colonel¡­¡± Her blue eyes locked with mine. ¡°We¡¯re right behind you every step of the way. You were the one who trained us, after all. I promise you that we¡¯re strong enough to keep up with you. You don¡¯t have to feel like you have to leave me- us- behind.¡± I puzzled over Visha¡¯s words for a moment¡­ then realized what she meant. Ah, I see. The battle-hungry tendencies of the 203rd strike again. Even halfway around the world and a host of defeated countries later, they were still not satiated. The Lieutenant first and foremost. And to think she was that green recruit who once threw up at the sight of battlefield gore. ¡°I know you¡¯re strong enough, Visha,¡± I smiled up at her and patted her shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll definitely keep you close wherever I go.¡± Her face exploded in a blush, ¡°I- That¡¯s- Thank you, ma¡¯am!¡± ¡°If that¡¯s all, we¡¯re in the middle of an op, so back to your post, Lieutenant. I have a little commie whose politicking I have to thwart.¡± ¡°Yes! Give him hell, Colonel.¡± I found Pedro nearby, looking over another painting¡ªa view from the top of mountains, looking over a valley and a river winding away through the trees. ¡°We¡¯re ready.¡± ¡°Ah, good. Let us go find our seats,¡± he nodded, and together, we made our way down one of the aisles. As we moved, I focused on the Russy weasel. The rat-faced man currently trying to worm his way into another politician¡¯s ear¡ªand from the politician¡¯s expression, succeeding. Apparently, the little bastard said something the spineless political worm liked, as he lit up like a Christmas tree. I sneered, then quickly wiped the expression off of my face. Look how willing they are to throw themselves to their knees and slobber all over communist cock for a few empty words. Disgusting! It¡¯s a good thing we¡¯re going to be doing some housecleaning! Perhaps I can find an excuse to remove the little weasel while we¡¯re at it? I would settle for killing him in a brilliant flash of spellfire, but what I¡¯d really love to do is get my hands on him and wring him of any information he might have on what his masters¡¯ plans are for Brasa. I doubt he knows much, most mooks don¡¯t, but even the names of his superiors would be good! But I could take him right here and now, if I wanted. I might even be able to do it even with the crowd. I slowed my movements and Pedro unconsciously matched my pace as I angled us just slightly further out of the commie¡¯s peripheral vision. I was unarmed but that meant nothing to an aerial mage, and especially to me since the accident. A whisper of a thought and I would have a mage blade coating my fingers. I could slide right by him, reach out and pat him on the back, and puncture his heart from within¡ªa needle-thin blade of mana, just a pinprick through his uniform and flesh, and then expand it the moment it reached his heart. No one would know. It would look like a heart attack¡­ Something must have given away our approach. Turning towards us, the Russy agent looked over the governor, before his eyes slid to me and a confused expression crossed his face. He studied me intently and I felt his mana reaching out, like greasy fingers questing for my flesh. I swatted it away as a feeling of disgust welled up in my stomach. The agent¡¯s entire body froze for just a moment as our eyes locked. I smiled just a bit brighter. I could practically smell his fear from here¡ªand it stank. It seems he recognizes me! Not just as an aerial mage, but he seems to know who I actually am. How interesting~! What have the commies been teaching their people lately, I wonder? And then, the man¡ªand I used the term loosely because communists weren¡¯t human¡ªapproached.
¡°Children belong to the state more than they do to their parents. It is only right,¡± First Lieutenant Ivan Rabinovich said solemnly, but the senator remained worryingly unconvinced. ¡°Claiming ownership of children¡­¡± the senator murmured, ¡°I am not sure how my constituents will feel about that, Mr. Rabinovich.¡± ¡°The average working class man or woman should be able to give back to the People without fearing for their children¡¯s futures!¡± Ivan tried a different tactic¡ªappealing to the human need to be seen as moral. ¡°So as you can see, the Russy Federation is the model of progressive policies¡ªcommon sense enforced! The State should always have a hand in raising the children¡ªteaching them what is right and what is wrong regardless of their own parents¡¯ deficiencies in education. And should their parents be¡­ rebellious elements, their children will be taught to report them to the right authorities so that even their parents can be re-educated of the wonders of Socialism.¡± ¡°I am still not sure if such is feasible, Brasa is not a rich country¡­¡± Ivan nodded with a knowing smile, ¡°Rest assured, once friends of the Russy Federation wins this election, there will be outpouring of funds for all the nurseries, schools, and daycares that Brasa¡¯s youth can ever need.¡± At the mention of Russy funding, the senator¡¯s attention was suddenly piqued, like one of Comrade Pavlov¡¯s dogs hearing a bell. Ivan knew that he had caught his attention, but he also knew that the Senator was looking for one more concession if he was to be... useful.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. The senator replied, ¡°And would I have a place in the Russy Federation¡¯s vision of Brasa?¡± ¡°Every comrade has a place, Mr. Senator.¡± Ivan reassured, ¡°The People of Brasa will need strong leaders who will guide them forward in our Great Socialist Experiment after all. I can put in a good word for you.¡± ¡°Me?¡± the senator chuckled, ¡°That is very reassuring to hear.¡± ¡°I can imagine!¡± Ivan laughed along. Ivan looked away from the new ¡®friend¡¯ he had made among the Brasa senate as something tickled his mana senses. He wasn¡¯t the best soldier in the Russy Federation¡ªin fact, he would readily agree that his sense of self-preservation overriding his duty to his country, his ideals, and silly ideas like ¡®community¡¯ and ¡®family¡¯ had allowed him to survive this long. What he was, however, was sensitive to mana in a way most Federation aerial mages, especially the newer recruits, weren¡¯t. That he noticed it at all was probably less a testament to his own skill and more to his, admittedly, cowardly nature. He doubted anyone else would notice the way the mana currents around them had suddenly shifted. They likely also wouldn¡¯t have noticed the void in the local mana walking around inside the building, like some sort of¡­ black hole, except for mana. It wasn¡¯t a mana signature, but the complete lack of one. Any mana that came into contact with it disappeared, and all of the local mana was being pulled inexorably towards it. He looked up, seeing an older man walking down the aisle beside a young woman. He did a double-take as he realized the girl was the source of the anomaly. Then, her appearance registered. It started in the hind brain. That overdeveloped lizard brain that had kept him alive so long, seen him turning in family and friends over the slightest of perceived doubts to save his own sorry hide, recoiled in terror¡ªfreezing his body to the spot as it shot him so full of adrenaline he thought his heart would explode. It didn¡¯t see a young woman in a military uniform. No, it saw a Siberian tiger wearing human skin, stalking down the aisle straight towards him. That smile on her face was a baring of fangs as her expression clearly said that she was deliberating whether to toy with him or to pounce and snap his neck between her jaws. Memory fired off, then. She was a bit taller now, a few years older, but the differences were minor. There was no mistaking who she was, as his mind turned back to a propaganda video shot by the damned Imperials, of the time they sent an aerial mage squadron to the capital and flew the Imperial flag over Moskva. The video that had been ¡®leaked¡¯ back to the Federation and was used as a training aid to shame future aerial mage recruits, to goad them to further hate the Imperials over the utter embarrassment that day had been for Comrade Joseph and their defense forces. That face, the face of the little girl who had helped hoist that filthy flag and so shame them, was burned into the minds of every Federation mage. They had strict orders regarding that particular enemy. Either subdue her and bring her in, where she could face proper justice at Comrade Joseph¡¯s direction, or kill her and try to bring her body back. Then came the facts that every mage had been briefed with. They didn¡¯t have her name, but they knew her epithet. The Devil of the Rhine. She was a war criminal of the highest order, who had committed atrocities on every front of the war. Her personal kill count was staggering, even at the lower conservative numbers the politburo published, as opposed to those numbers inflated by their¡­ nominal allies to make her seem more frightening. If she is here, then the Imperials have already established a beachhead. They are thinking twenty years ahead, at a minimum. They will wait for the trials at the end of the war to die down. For the normalization process after the war to truly settle in. For people to adapt to their new lives under communist influence and the decadence that will come for some and hardships for others. Then, they will return. Gather dissidents and try to turn the proletariat to their own purposes. Shit! I have to get a message back to the Federation and let them know! They need to send a unit down here to stamp out the Germans before they can set down roots! But who is that with her? he wondered, shifting his attention briefly to the other man. After a few moments, he remembered the briefing he had been given before he left and everything clicked. Governor Vazquez. The meeting between this ¡®Weiss¡¯ of some capitalist mercenary company working in the governor¡¯s employ and Presidente Vargas, before the man¡¯s untimely demise at the hands of Captain Sokolov. Weiss was a German name, of course. And here was the most notorious Imperial war criminal, standing beside the governor. It all made too much sense. This was why Capt. Sokolov killed that traitor Vargas! She learned that he was planning to side with this, this monster! No, this Devil! She must have learned that the Devil was working with Lt. Col. Weiss¡ªhis superior, given her rank insignia. Then¡­ then Bellum has already fallen under their sway. We will have to see it purged. Burned to the ground with everyone inside, just to make sure the capitalist taint doesn¡¯t escape. But perhaps¡­ perhaps I can speak with him. Convince him to make himself useful to the cause. He¡¯ll still have to be killed, of course, but if he is pliable enough to be a useful idiot for our cause, perhaps we can turn him against the Devil. Ivan smiled as he turned to greet the governor. For some reason, a brief look of revulsion crossed the Devil¡¯s face before it was swiftly hidden behind that terrifying expression she mistakenly called a smile. He didn¡¯t understand why¡ªit was his best smile. ¡°Ah, good evening! Good evening! Governor¡­ Vazquez, isn¡¯t it?¡± Ivan asked, extending his hand to shake¡ªbut less than halfway. It was an old psychological manipulation trick to begin the process of breaking down walls. To literally make the enemy reach out to you and subconsciously put them in the position of always reaching out further than you¡ªliterally and metaphorically. ¡°I am Second Lieutenant Ivan Rabinovich of the Russy Federation.¡± ¡°Hello, lieutenant,¡± Vazquez hesitated only a moment before shaking his hand. ¡°If you¡¯ll¡ª¡± Ivan spoke right over him before the governor could excuse himself. ¡°Please, no need to stand on rank. Call me Ivan! I¡¯m here today to apologize on behalf of the Federation and assure you all that what happened with your president was a terrible mistake, an atrocity carried out by a madwoman working on her own. I am so sorry about what happened.¡± The governor frowned at that, but politeness kept him from calling out the lie for what it was. That didn¡¯t seem to apply to the woman beside him, as she scoffed quietly. Ivan gestured towards her and asked, ¡°And who is your lovely young lady friend here?¡± The blonde¡¯s lip twitched, the beginnings of a curl of disgust. ¡°Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff, Militar Sin Fronteras.¡± Ivan committed the name to memory. Home office would be thrilled to finally be able to put a name to a face, if they hadn¡¯t been able to squeeze her name out of the Imperials already, or get it from their records. ¡°Well, it¡¯s nice to meet you, Ms. Degurechaff,¡± he smiled, offering his hand for another shake as he tweaked her nose just a bit. After all, unless she wanted to expose herself for the rabid animal she was, there was little she could do in retaliation. She may be a tiger wearing human skin, but at the moment, she was collared, leashed, and caged by the company she kept and their current surroundings¡ªthe expectations of society, and that one not step too far outside of them. He was as safe as if they were separated by the bars of a zoo. Or a Siberian gulag. Silver-blue eyes bored into his brown and that reptilian part of Ivan¡¯s brain worried that perhaps the bars were not as strong as he hoped¡ªor that they were not there at all and he really was at her mercy here. ¡°Colonel. Von. Degurechaff,¡± she stressed. ¡°I earned both of those, lieutenant.¡± ¡°Oh? Is that what that silly word in your name is? Some kind of rank?¡± he smiled, wagging his hand a bit to emphasize its presence. The blonde tucked both hands behind her back, beneath her cape. ¡°It¡¯s a nobiliary particle, as I¡¯m sure you¡¯re aware.¡± ¡°Nobility? In the modern world?¡± Ivan scoffed. ¡°We of the Federation have done away with such outmoded concepts.¡± ¡°In the Empire, we believed that everyone, regardless of birth, had the right to better themselves through their own meritorious actions. Be it intelligence, bravery, or just plain hard work, anyone who chose to serve our country could increase their station in life. And that is the essence of nobility. Of being noble. Dedicating yourself to doing more for your country, your fellow man, and yourself than the common man.¡± Ivan scoffed. ¡°At the expense of everyone around them. No, thanks to the beauty of the communist system, everyone is now equal¡ª¡± he began his spiel, only to be cut off. ¡°Unless they¡¯re born a mage. Then, you¡¯re sent to the gulag.¡± Ivan flinched. ¡°There is no such thing! We do not imprison our mages in any supposed gulags!¡± ¡°Is that so? Then what¡¯s that?¡± she nodded to his wrist and Ivan flinched, jerking down the long sleeve to hide the numerical tattoo on his right wrist. Chuckling, she continued, ¡°Of course the mages were imprisoned, after the communists took over. After all, mages disprove the communist ideal of everyone being born equal and only unfair exploitation, classism, sexism, racism¡ªa plethora of little -isms and -phobias to describe every little difference between people. Exploitation of and discrimination based upon those differences on the part of the bourgeois is the only thing truly dividing the proletariat, according to the ruling class. But it¡¯s kind of hard to call yourselves equal when one of you can fly and the other cannot, isn¡¯t it?¡± Ivan began to sweat as he realized that no, worse than any rabid animal, the woman before him was completely rational. A reasoning, thinking, intelligent and cunning creature. Even worse, she understood. She grasped concepts only the most cynical, or those highest within the communist regime, truly understood. Things that the useful idiots, the pretty faces they educated in the ways of communism and sent out to spread the good word did not. The inherent double-think and double-speak in the system. That when a communist spoke of equality, he meant that everyone within the proletariat, the working class, would be equal. Equally poor. While the leaders, the politburo, the intelligentsia, those most useful to the cause, would be equal to each other in power and wealth. Or that yes, mages disproved the idea of equality from birth. Perhaps worst of all, however¡­ Much like her namesake, for this Devil words were weapons. It was a simple truth that the regime and everyone more intelligent than a loaf of bread understood. They wielded truth and lies, fact and fiction, false promises and empty platitudes in equal measure to bend those they sought to bring into the fold of communism to heel. Ivan was not a believer¡ªnever had been. He had too much survival instinct for that. But by that same token, he parroted the words of the state, he did everything they demanded, for to do otherwise was death. This Devil seemed to somehow sense it, and she was drawing an audience, as others had turned to listen and conversations around them were hushed. If he allowed her to continue, she would undo all of his hard work and make further attempts to approach the spineless coward politicians here pointless! ¡°Well then, it was nice meeting you both. I wish you both a good evening¡ª¡± Ivan tried to disengage, only for her gaze to fix him in place as her next words struck like a hammer blow and left him reeling. ¡°Don¡¯t go~!¡± the colonel beamed¡ªthe tiger bringing its paw down in front of him, cutting off his escape. ¡°Why don¡¯t you tell everyone about the bread lines, comrade?¡± ¡°I, I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about,¡± he denied, while inside, he screamed, How does she know?! ¡°Bread lines?¡± Governor Vazquez spoke up, loudly, drawing even more attention. ¡°What do you mean, colonel?¡± ¡°Why, it¡¯s just as it sounds!¡± the Devil chuckled. ¡°They are lines in which you wait to receive your allotted bread for the day. If you don¡¯t get there early enough, they run out. This is how the communists ¡®fairly¡¯ distribute food and resources within their cities. Instead of going down to the store to buy bread, you stand in the bread line with your voucher and wait to be given bread, if you¡¯re lucky.¡± ¡°She¡¯s lying!¡± ¡°Why would I need to lie, comrade?¡± Shaking her head, the Devil added, ¡°You would be surprised how willing to talk the average Russy soldier is, if you offer him a few basic, trivial things. Bread. Soup. Meat. Some cigarettes. Coffee. Let him feel like a real human being again and he¡¯ll tell you whatever you want to know. Unfortunately, most of them don¡¯t know much, so there isn¡¯t much point to interrogating them. They don¡¯t tell the grunts anything. Even the mages didn¡¯t know much. What they did know, we learned, however. Such as the bread lines. Or the lists. Tell them about the lists, comrade Rabinovich.¡± At that, Ivan frowned in confusion. Before, confronted with the truth he needed to deny, to hide, for the sake of the state (and his life), he had wanted to flee. Now, however, curiosity had him stuck to the spot, wondering what she was talking about. ¡°What lists?¡± ¡°You don¡¯t know about the lists?¡± she asked, coyly. There was a verbal trap there, Ivan knew. But, fool he was, he sprung it anyway. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of any lists.¡± The Devil nodded, putting on a sympathetic smile. Ivan¡¯s lizard brain saw right through it. She was practically licking her chops, salivating as she moved in not for the kill, but for a little nibble. Just a taste, before the main course. ¡°Ah, well. I¡¯m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, then. You see, if you aren¡¯t aware of the lists, then the fact is, you¡¯re likely on one. You see, that is what the lists are for. Lists of potential problems that the communist regime needs to make not problems before any takeover. During the first stage of any staged ¡®revolution,¡¯ those will be the people dragged out into the street and shot first. That includes useful idiots, people who know too much, and idealists who, after experiencing life under the boot of communism, will find that their taste for ¡®equality¡¯ dries up and the difference between what they were promised and the reality they¡¯ve found themselves in will make them the most bitter of enemies.¡± That smile came back, all teeth, and Ivan shivered. ¡°Although, given that you¡¯re a mage, you were on one from the beginning. Tell me, do you know what they have planned for you after the war?¡± Ivan¡¯s confusion mounted, even as he thought back to the whispers he had heard. The conversations with non-mage acquaintances in other branches. Hesitantly, he answered, ¡°As I understand it, the aerial mages were to be sent home and decommissioned. Freed and sent on their way.¡± The Devil sighed, nodding as a knowing look crossed her face. ¡°It¡¯s a euphemism, cloaked in the typical commie double-speak. By ¡®decommissioned,¡¯ they mean executed. By ¡®free¡¯ they mean dead.¡± For a moment, Ivan¡¯s heart stopped. ¡°No,¡± he whispered, but¡­ but his lizard brain, that part of him that was so keen on ensuring his survival, quickly put everything together and to his horror, Ivan couldn¡¯t find fault with her words. ¡°But why? Have we not proved our use?¡± ¡°As I said. They can¡¯t allow a group who disproves their ideals just by existing to continue to exist. I imagine it will be a very quiet genocide, taking place all at once right after the war. Mass graves and a bunch of mages listed as casualties. Then, as the years go on, they¡¯ll test every baby born for magical potential. Any that have it will experience some horrible childhood condition like Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. They¡¯ll blame it on the West, on capitalism, on anyone but themselves, when they themselves are the ones killing babies.¡± Behind Ivan somewhere, doors opened and the noise level increased as people began to pour in. The governor nodded his way and began moving. ¡°If you¡¯ll excuse us, it¡¯s about to begin. We need to find our seats.¡± Ivan nodded absently, moving to his own seat, where he collapsed bonelessly. His heart felt weak, his pulse thready. His body trembled, literally shaking where he sat as he came down off the adrenaline from facing such a terrifying beast in direct confrontation. If this was what verbally sparring with her was like, then he couldn¡¯t begin to comprehend just how terrifying fighting her in the air as a mage would be. One thing was certain, however¡­ She knows too much! Far too much! There is no way she collected all of that from interrogating a few captured prisoners! I don¡¯t know how she knows, but it¡¯s like she¡¯s seen directly to the heart of the Kremlin. It was said that familiarity breeds contempt. This Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff seemed all too familiar with them, given the level of contempt she displayed. And he was sure she was holding back! That wasn¡¯t an attack. No, as attacked as he felt personally and as a representative of the Federation, that was no attack. It was a bit of verbal sparring. A very big cat toying with the rat it had caught. She¡¯ll have warned the governor. He will be completely immune to any approach by our agents. Slowly, Ivan calmed down as the meeting was called to order, then devolved almost immediately into chaos as everyone tried to speak at once. Suddenly, a sound very much like a foghorn blared over the room, making Ivan and others wince and bringing silence to the room. The governor stood up and his shadow, the colonel, with him. They made their way to the front and Ivan very faintly felt the colonel work a formula, before the governor began speaking. He had no microphone, but the formula ensured he didn¡¯t need one, as his voice carried clearly across the seats. ¡°Ladies and gentlemen of the senate. I see many faces in this crowd tonight that I recognize. Old friends and rivals alike. For those of you who do not know me, allow me to introduce myself. I am General Pedro Vazquez, formerly of the Brasa Army, and current governor of the state of Para.¡± He held out a hand and Col. von Degurechaff produced a folder, which the governor held aloft. A moment later, a projection of the documents within sprang into being above him¡ªlarge enough that even those in the back could clearly read them. ¡°The day of Presidente Vargas¡¯s assassination, I sent a trusted envoy to deliver these documents and a warning against dealing with the Russy Federation¡ªhow they cannot be trusted. It is no coincidence that he was killed in cold blood by the cowardly Russy agent, Capt. Sokolov, not even an hour later. After all, these documents outline a plan for strengthening our military and ensuring that communism can never set its filthy boots upon our shores again. And for that, for daring to consider it, he was killed! You know what that tells me, my friends? It tells me that they are scared! They are utterly terrified of the idea of a Brasa with access to the same caliber of troops as the Americans, the Francois, the Commonwealth, and the Empire! The idea of aerial mages under our control terrifies them¡ªand it should!¡± There was a murmuring within the crowd and once again, Ivan felt himself growing anxious. A crowd getting whipped into a frenzy could very quickly become an angry mob¡ªafter all, that was one of the preferred tactics of communist subversives and infiltrators. But with him here, a clear target in his Federation uniform? They would tear him limb from limb! ¡°My plan is simple. With the help of my friend, Colonel von Degurechaff, and her mercenary company Militar Sin Fronteras, we will open an academy for aerial mages! We will begin recruiting, training, and equipping candidates immediately. Then, those students will be used to recruit and train more future mages, until we have a force to rival that of any of those involved in the Great War. And with this force, we will ensure that the Russy Federation, the communists who assassinated our beloved el presidente, never darken our shores again! ¡°That is why I am putting in my name to replace Presidente Vargas. No one is better prepared and has a better idea of what needs to be done than myself. Colonel von Degurechaff and her people have fought the Federation before. In their own cities, in the harsh Siberian winter, and in the Empire. They have seen firsthand what is waiting for us if the communists gain a foothold in our beloved Brasa! The murder, rape, and pillaging of Imperial villages in the Federation¡¯s quest to demoralize and destroy the Empire is just the beginning of what cowardly, two-faced, lying shitheels like our guest comrade Ivan Rabinovich here will do with a smile on their faces!¡± Ivan¡¯s heart stopped as nearly every eye in attendance turned to him. Glares fixed him to his seat and heated, hate-filled murmurs filled the crowd. The only reason he didn¡¯t leave, why he didn¡¯t stand up and run away, is because he couldn¡¯t. His legs wouldn¡¯t move. ¡°Choose me to take up the torch for Presidente Vargas and I promise, I will begin removing this threat to us all immediately. Elect me to office and I will guarantee our future and prosperity for generations to come, free of Federation communist tyranny!¡± Vazquez yelled, and to Ivan¡¯s horror, much of the crowd erupted into applause. Ivan watched as the governor¡ªno, the presumptive next president at this point¡ªmade his way back to his seat. In his shadow, the colonel turned and sent him another smile as she passed. Ivan felt his blood run cold as he knew, then and there, that she meant to kill him. He didn¡¯t know when, but it was coming¡ª The doors in the front and back of the room were kicked open and gunfire filled the room, followed by screams and utter pandemonium. Before he could fully register what was happening, a man in a Federation uniform and wearing a black balaclava and gloves grabbed Ivan by the arm and jerked him up from his seat, hosing down the people in the row beside him with his machine gun. ¡°Quickly, comrade! We¡¯re leaving!¡± What? What in the world is going on?! As he watched, concentrated gunfire focused in on the colonel and the governor behind her, only to splash off of the blonde woman¡¯s shield as she began barking orders and ushering them towards an exit. Ivan reacted before his conscious mind could really process what was happening. Reaching out, he grabbed the sidearm off the belt of the man moving him to safety, turned, charged an explosive formula, and fired it into the shield. Smoke filled the room as he continued firing, until the weapon clicked dry. Suddenly, he felt it. Her mana. From within the thick cloud of smoke and dust, two golden pinpricks burned as mana swelled around them. Growing and growing. It grew harder to breathe and Ivan felt faint, his breaths coming shallowly as the smoke cleared and she stood there, not a speck of dust on her uniform. She lifted a hand in his direction, fingers curling into a pistol shape. ¡°Get down, you idiot!¡± his escort tackled him to the ground. ¡°Bang.¡± The formula she fired in answer was a laser that left explosions in its wake. The seats were ripped up and caught fire around them as Ivan and his savior both poured mana into a shield above them as the world became little more than light and sound. Ivan had just enough time to look up and see that the entire rear wall behind him had been annihilated, before he was being grabbed and flown out of the hole, as the colonel charged and prepared to fire again. A few moments later, they touched down and Ivan found himself thrown into the back seat of a car, as his savior jumped in beside him. ¡°Go, go, go! She might be coming!¡± The car peeled out with a squeal of tires and Ivan felt the world swim around him for just a moment, before everything went black as his mind finally gave out. 14 A Young Girl¡¯s Outer Heaven 14
Commissioned by mindgames.
It was a bit crowded as we all climbed into Swift Return and Edwina began taxiing down the runway, but no one complained. Well, no one save for the governor. ¡°What is that doing here?¡± he spat at the unconscious communist tied up and secured to a wooden folding chair in the rear of the sitting section. One of my men came to attention and answered, ¡°We trailed the cars the Russy agents escaped in and ambushed them. We managed to eliminate most of them, but a few of their people got away. This communist was the only one without a mask, so we thought he must be important. Important enough to capture and bring in for interrogation, at least.¡± ¡°Good work,¡± I grinned, sitting down in one of the comfy chairs. ¡°Put him in the back, out of our sight. He¡¯s stinking up the whole cabin. Keep a guard on him though. I don¡¯t want him getting loose.¡± The commie stank of piss and the entire front of his pants were one big dark spot. I¡¯d have had the men strip them off and throw them out of the plane, but we were already airborne and I didn¡¯t want to open the doors for that. Thankfully, this would be a relatively short flight. ¡°Ma¡¯am!¡± the men saluted, and a pair of them dragged comrade Rabinovich towards the toilet. Of course, that was the lie we were selling, to keep Pedro¡¯s hands clean in this. He couldn¡¯t feel guilt, discomfort, or react poorly if he simply didn¡¯t know the facts of the matter. That the reality was, comrade Ivan there was the only Russy agent anyone saw that night. That the men on the plane now, those who were ostensibly part of our security detail, were in fact the very gunmen who had gunned down a crowd and then blown up and burned the building they were in. And to be fair, I didn¡¯t think that knowledge would go over well with our friend the governor¡ªor the nosy little reporter currently sitting directly beside him on a couch with a pen and notepad. ¡°¡­And what would you like to say to the leaders of the Russy Federation, Governor Vazquez?¡± the woman asked, and I spoke up. ¡°Politburo.¡± ¡°Hm?¡± she asked, looking up and over at me. ¡°The highest political organ in most communist parties is called a politburo. Political bureau. Politbyuro, or politicheskoye byuro in the Rus language. Officially, they call themselves the Central Committee. They¡¯re generally made up of the upper echelons of leadership of the triangle of power and hate that makes up the Federation government: the Party at the top and the military and KGB at the bottom.¡± ¡°The¡­ what?¡± the reporter asked, flipping to a new page. ¡°KGB, or komitet gosudarstvennoy bezopasnosti. The Committee for State Security.¡± I smiled and added, ¡°Or in plain, simple language: the secret police. Those who spy on the public to remove dissenters.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ terrifying,¡± the reporter murmured, shaking her head before turning back to the governor. Pedro, having had time to compose a response beyond his initial gut reaction, wore a rather hard look as he began to speak. ¡°What would I tell them? Nothing. Not with words. This has officially become a war. My answer will come in the form of bullets, bombs, and spells, and I will not stop giving that answer as loudly as I can until they are driven from our home. Then, and only then, may we waste words with a foreign aggressor a hemisphere away.¡± The reporter nodded, a look in her eyes that I recognized as she glanced up at Pedro, scribbling frantically in her notebook. That was the kind of manic devotion you couldn¡¯t buy. A sort of near-zealotry, really. I turned away and grabbed a book as she interviewed him, eating up his every word. A moment later, I found myself pushed over in my chair and then sharing space with Visha. Frowning, I quietly murmured, ¡°Not in front of the men.¡± Her answer was a quiet scoff. ¡°It won¡¯t ruin your image, colonel. Look at them.¡± I glanced up from my book to find that the men were all either napping or quietly involved in their own conversations. None of them were even looking at us. Completely by coincidence, I¡¯m sure, I mused, as I caught Grantz glancing over. He met my gaze and grinned, before giving a cheeky thumbs up and turning back to his conversation. ¡°So the truth is, my reputation is already ruined and I can¡¯t make it any worse.¡± Visha giggled. ¡°Yup! Why fight it?¡± I sighed and focused on my book. It¡¯s mostly harmless in this case anyway. The plane is crowded and I¡¯m small enough that we can share. Besides, she¡¯s my adjutant. Everyone already knows Visha and I are practically joined at the hip. They¡¯re certainly aware that we bunk together. I haven¡¯t coerced her into anything or abused my position. There¡¯s nothing improper going on here. We¡¯re not in any sort of romantic or sexual relationship. It¡¯s¡­ fine. Visha yawned, stretched, and laid her head on my shoulder as she wrapped her arms around me, making herself comfortable and settling in for a nap. A quiet snicker sounded from somewhere in the plane. Looking up again, ready to tear someone a new asshole and fill it with my boot, I found Pedro sending me an amused look. My eye twitched. This is fine!
We landed in Bellum and Pedro¡¯s protective detail met us on the airfield with a car, along with a squad of mages in a truck for our guest. We saw Pedro and the reporter off, then escorted the struggling Russy agent down the steps of the plane. Upon seeing me, he went wide eyed and let out a quiet moan around his gag, before he went limp in the arms of the men escorting him. I smiled as he was loaded into the back of the armored truck. A major under Weiss, whom I was pretty sure was the head of our Intelligence division, snapped off a salute. ¡°We¡¯ll take it from here, ma¡¯am! Is there anything in particular you want from him, before we get to work?¡± I considered for a moment before nodding. ¡°I want to know what he was using to buy the politicians he was speaking with. His sales pitch, as it were. If we know the lies they¡¯re telling us, we¡¯ll know what their aims are, even if he doesn¡¯t have official orders on the matter. Also, see if he knows their immediate plans as of yesterday, before the attack tonight. Anything he knows about it. Orders, scuttlebutt, I don¡¯t care. I need to know the reaction of those in command down here. Then have him guess as to their reaction to tonight¡¯s attack. Keep him as a guest for a few days while we confirm what we can, then dispose of him.¡± Nodding, the major grinned and asked, ¡°Would you prefer fertilizer or fish food, ma¡¯am?¡± ¡°Considering the commies¡¯ habit of starving those under their regime, fertilizer would be the more poetic of the two. In fact, I have an idea in mind. A little gardening project¡­ Let me know when you¡¯re done with him.¡± The major snapped off a salute and hurried to the truck¡¯s passenger door. Soon enough, it was just myself, Visha, and Edwina left on the airfield. Our pilot stormed over with an annoyed look. ¡°What did you do?! The entire rear cabins smell like piss!¡± I winced. ¡°Ah, sorry. The prisoner pissed himself.¡± Edwina put her hands on her hips and glared at me. ¡°Eu deveria fazer voce limpar com uma escova de dente, sua vadia!¡± Beside me, Visha flinched, looking between us¡ªand my sidearm¡ªwith a worried expression as the stream of invective continued. ¡°Colonel,¡± she began quietly, and I cast her a glance. ¡°You can¡¯t shoot her!¡± I sent my adjutant a confused look. ¡°What makes you think I was going to?¡± When she simply sent me a deadpan look, I sighed. Holding up a hand, Edwina fell silent and I asked, ¡°Don¡¯t we have a punishment detail?¡± Visha considered it for a moment and nodded. ¡°We do. Some of the men got rather rowdy last weekend and came in drunk. Lt. Col. Weiss has them cleaning latrines.¡± ¡°Wunderbar~,¡± I leered. ¡°Reassign them to Edwina. They¡¯re to clean the plane to her satisfaction.¡± Turning to the fuming pilot, I added, ¡°All of the planes. Is that satisfactory?¡± ¡°This time,¡± she hissed. ¡°Next time, don¡¯t drag some bitch who can¡¯t hold his bladder into one of my babies! At the very least, hose him down first or something!¡± I held up both hands, warding her off. ¡°Alright, alright. Captain, inform the men. Any prisoners we bring aboard one of Edwina¡¯s planes are to be in a state fit for transport.¡± ¡°Understood, ma¡¯am,¡± Visha nodded, a smile twitching at her lips. Turning on her heel, the pilot stormed off the tarmac, throwing a single fingered salute over her shoulder as she headed for home. When I chuckled, Visha sent me an odd look. ¡°What? I think she¡¯s funny.¡± ¡°More like she doesn¡¯t know enough to be scared of you,¡± Visha muttered as we took to the air to head home ourselves. ¡°That just makes it more fun.¡± It was a nice change of pace, having someone talk to me like an equal, without either the distance of rank between us, the respect (and occasionally fear) of those who had been with me the longest, or worse, the¡­ I wanted to call it adoration of some of the men of late. Shaking my head, I turned my mind to the immediate future. The plan was in motion and now, we had to make sure that things happened the way we wanted. Weiss would have started moving Phase Two into place already¡ªmen traveling by car to the homes of those politicians who were left alive with a list of those we wanted elevated to power to replace those killed tonight, and to make sure they understood the severity of what had happened and how Governor, or rather how Presidente Vazquez was the only man who could save their nation from more of the same. With our help, of course. Of course, those men who either didn¡¯t attend or who weren¡¯t killed, but were on the list to be removed, would be receiving an entirely different kind of visit. Doors kicked in in the middle of night and commie terrorists with machine guns mowing them down where they slept. It was a tragedy, but an unavoidable one. Luckily, I was fairly certain that these ¡®communists¡¯ had orders to limit casualties and wouldn¡¯t eliminate entire families. I wouldn¡¯t be personally needed again until it was time for Pedro to start campaigning in earnest and then pushing our agenda forward. We estimated a week or two at most, for Phase Two to complete, then for the remainder of the government to pop their heads up and feel safe enough to meet in person again. We had a plan for that, actually. Pedro was going to suggest they meet on our little island. It was the safest places for them¡ªsurrounded by (theoretically) loyal aerial mages who would everything in our power to keep the commies from getting to them. Until then, there are some things I can take care of. I need to speak with Herr Doktor Schugel again and introduce the idea of satellites. Given my lack of need to breathe, I can lift the first of them up myself, if he can throw something useful together sometime soon. I would love to have something that I can use to observe most of Brasa with. Removing the fog of war is imperative to any battle, be it physical, political, or mental. Whoever has the most information tends to win. We¡¯re in a race with the Americans, the Russy, the Commonwealth, and others who would see us destroyed before we grew to be a true threat. We need to accelerate. To build faster, bigger, better, cheaper, and smarter than they are. To outpace them so far, so quickly, that they can never hope to catch up without outright stealing the technology from us. Luckily, I have a cheat sheet of all the technological greatest hits of my old world and a madman who can translate pure technology into magi-technology. ¡­We really need to do something to secure Doktor Schugel¡¯s legacy. Does he have any children? His previous students and underlings were captured by the Russy and this batch is going to take some time to train up. Perhaps we should have him record lessons or something. We need to start planning for the future and his loss today, so we aren¡¯t crippled when it happens. We can¡¯t allow our country and our future to be dependent upon one man, no matter how brilliant.
Opening the door to Dr. Schugel¡¯s lab, I blinked as I took in the changes since I¡¯d last visited. Machinery had been fabricated and installed and was now humming away as his lab assistants worked at what looked like a cross between old fashioned typewriter keyboards and digital keyboards, cables from them trailing to what looked to my eyes like computers, with the sort of monitors on top that some of the most advanced magi-tech equipment used to display video and other data feeds from the field. But the internals of those machines, I knew, were all primitive electronics. Diodes, vacuum tubes, early circuits, and the like. Nothing this advanced and certainly nothing this small. I vaguely remembered signing off on about half of this stuff¡ªor at least, the raw materials. I didn¡¯t need to think back, I spun up a formula and directly recalled the requisition forms for the doctor that I had signed off on over the last months and the state of his lab in the intervening time, during the few times I had visited. I frowned as I realized that technically everything was accounted for. All of the materials were explicitly listed as being for the purpose of fabricating new lab equipment. I just hadn¡¯t expected this, or a sudden jump over about the course of a week from materials to finished product.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°Ah! Colonel! You¡¯re here!¡± Schugel noticed me standing at the door and stood, waving me over. ¡°Come, come! This should interest you! After all, it was your idea!¡± ¡°Which idea, exactly?¡± I asked as I approached, more wary now. Schugel proudly gestured towards a big, metal box of some sort set on top of a table. Picking up a bar of what might be steel and a small bead of elinium, he opened the box and pushed both inside, before closing it again. Moving over to one of those steampunk inspired keyboards and screens, he began tapping away. I watched over his shoulder as he took a few moments to select what I recognized were the common names for formulas, before he did something to finalize the process. A moment later, the box shuddered on the table, but I heard no sound. ¡°It was so loud we had to stick a noise canceling formula on the housing, otherwise it would leave us deaf. But now, it¡¯s quiet as a mouse as it works away diligently at the task I¡¯ve assigned it,¡± Schugel beamed. ¡°And what task was that?¡± ¡°You will see. It takes a few minutes. In the meantime, can I interest you in a coffee?¡± I nodded and we made our way over to a coffee pot in the corner of the room. As we began fixing ourselves a cup each, I asked, ¡°It¡¯s fabricating a computation orb, isn¡¯t it?¡± The mad scientist beamed. ¡°Yes! Well, no. Not a computation orb. With no need for them to be worn on a person, we¡¯ve been able to optimize the shape for installation and use in machinery.¡± ¡°And it¡¯s still purely analog?¡± I asked, and he raised an eyebrow as he sipped at his cup. ¡°It runs off of a physical internal mechanism. Springs, gears, and the like, as the computation orbs do. It¡¯s not digital, using only circuits, diodes, and the like?¡± Schugel frowned, his eyes going distant as he stared into his cup. ¡°No, no. It¡¯s still purely mechanical, minus the magical parts. But that is a very interesting idea. It¡¯s a shame that vacuum tubes are so large. A purely ¡®digital¡¯ configuration would surely calculate much faster, but it would necessitate a much larger frame.¡± ¡°Have you considered semiconductor materials?¡± Blinking, Schugel looked up and met my eyes. ¡°By which you mean¡­?¡± ¡°Silicon, germanium, gallium arsenide, graphene. Basically any solid state conductor, instead of something trying to jump electrons across a gap in a vacuum or through ionized gas. Do you have some paper and a pen?¡± Schugel quickly fished out a small notebook from his breast pocket and flipped to a new page, before handing me his pen. I took a moment to recall a few basic diagrams I vaguely remembered from the classes I had been required to take in both high school and later, in college¡ªnothing more complex than an n-p-n transistor diagram and generally how a basic transistor should look. When I handed the notebook back to him, Dr. Schugel¡¯s hands shook as he took a look at it before closing it up and slipping it into his pocket again. I frowned, wondering if we shouldn¡¯t get him scheduled for some medical checkups. Shaking like that could just be caffeine jitters, or it could be a sign of something more serious. Schugel was not a young man and I didn¡¯t want to be responsible for driving him to an early grave. I made a mental note to do just that, and perhaps see about getting him some more help around the lab¡ªmore assistants to take the workload off. I made another mental note to look into forcing him to take some time every weekday to speak with younger students and perhaps find a few that met his expectations for something with a bit more promise than a simple lab assistant in the future. The man had, with very little input on my part, jumped straight from the idea of a (magical) computer driven assembly line to what amounted to (magical) 3d printing in the span of a week. As much of a pain in the ass as he could be, we couldn¡¯t stand to lose that sort of intellect to time. Anything I could do to prolong the time we had him for, I would. ¡°Ahem,¡± the mad scientist cleared his throat, before gesturing towards the 3d printer in question. ¡°The assembly has finished. Let us have a look.¡± I followed the doctor over as he opened up the machine and pulled out a tray containing an icosahedron roughly the size of a baseball and a bunch of metal scraps and shavings. Taking out the baseball sized twenty-sided polyhedron, he grinned and moved across the room as I followed. Setting the chunk of metal down on a small metal plate on the table, he moved over a clamp with a probe on the end of it and a wire leading to a switch¡ªand upon closer inspection, I noticed a second wire on the metal plate. Setting the probe into place against the top of the newly printed computation device, he secured the clamp and flipped the switch. ¡°Of course, there is simply too much loss in the conversion of mana to electricity to make it viable on anything but the small scale or with a massive source of mana. It is wasteful in the extreme. On the other hand, in the inverse, it doesn¡¯t matter! Whether you are burning coal or using a hydroelectric dam, the benefits to using electricity to generate mana are too great to ignore! We can speed up the process of charging a mana battery immensely this way! Why, after just a day of charging, we were able to produce a bomb with a yield greater than anything the Imperial forces ever deployed!¡± He cast me a glance and appended, ¡°Aside from yourself, of course.¡± I blinked as a chill ran down my spine. ¡°You¡¯ve already tested one?¡± ¡°Yes, of course!¡± Schugel nodded. Seeing my suddenly pale face, he rolled his eyes. ¡°Oh, stop fretting so, colonel. I followed all of your silly safety precautions. We built a platform and hauled it out to sea, then detonated it remotely. It exploded marvelously!¡± ¡°I see,¡± I murmured, before the implications hit me. ¡°Herr Doktor¡­ You said it took a day to charge?¡± ¡°That it did,¡± he nodded. ¡°And it took you how long to produce the computation device for the bomb itself?¡± He grinned. ¡°Much less time than it took to make this beauty,¡± he gestured at the orb currently charging. ¡°This is a multi-purpose piece of equipment I¡¯ve been working on with the thought of having it guide a plane! No, the ones in the bombs are much smaller and simpler. All they need to do is absorb and store mana, fly a bomb, and then detonate. Six formulas. This one has many more.¡± ¡°And you could make another of these?¡± I asked, gesturing at the 3d printer. ¡°Easily! With more space, I could make them larger. I am sure there are hundreds of ways to optimize it for an industrial environment. This is just a small unit I¡¯ve made for creating prototypes here in the lab, after all.¡± ¡°Herr Doktor, please have blueprints for the basic unit drawn up and a list of requirements on my desk by the end of the week. If one or two of your assistants would like to aid the process by adding improvements and optimizing the design, then please put them on the task. However, don¡¯t worry too much about the small details of anything not connected to the magical aspects. I am sure we have several men by now among those who have relocated here from the Empire who are familiar with factory work and can likely work out the best way of putting it to use.¡± ¡°If you intend to start using these to turn out bombs, then I¡¯ll add the latest design for the smart bombs, so they can build both the payload and casing in a single facility,¡± Schugel nodded, taking out his notepad and making a note of it. ¡°Excellent,¡± I nodded. A thought occurred and I asked, ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be difficult at all to make single purpose magical foci this way, would it? Shields, rifles that shoot only magic bullets, heavy weapons that fire only explosive formulas. Things we could train a group of regular troops to use, which could be deployed in the field and then recharged when they came back?¡± Schugel laughed, waving his hand dismissively. ¡°Simplicity itself! But if you are going to do that, you may as well incorporate some of the ideas of modern firearms. We could separate out the elinium mana batteries into magazines, so they can be reloaded in the field. Oh! It would be far easier to send troops with one or two weapons than a dozen weapons for a dozen different tasks! Why not engineer the weapons such that one can flip a switch or turn a dial and switch between functions? Normal magic bullets for one setting, explosive formulas for another, sniping formulas for another, lasers for another! A piece of body armor that produces omni-directional shields, single-directional shields, NBC screens, camouflage! Another piece of kit that enables flight! You obviously wouldn¡¯t be able to do away with aerial mages, of course. The aerial mage would always be superior. But a well-trained force equipped with all of the basic tools of the aerial mage? The level of your regular troops would be far above that of the enemy, by dint of having access to magical equipment!¡± The doctor¡¯s enthusiasm was infectious, and I found myself grinning ear to ear as I imagined having our own elite force of troops who could completely obliterate enemy troops with their superior gear. ¡°I¡¯ll speak with Weiss and have him put together a small unit to work with you on this, to determine what would best suit our needs. We may need to design a new weapon from the ground up. If you can work out the magical aspects, we can handle the physical.¡± Downing the rest of my coffee, I continued, ¡°But as helpful as all of this has been, it¡¯s not why I came here today. It does help with several issues I hadn¡¯t foreseen with what I wanted, however.¡± Schugel raised an eyebrow. ¡°Hoh? You came to me for something specific. This should be good! Let¡¯s hear it, then!¡± ¡°Mm. As you know, intelligence on the battlefield is key. From things as simple as the terrain and the weather, to the position of your troops and the enemy¡¯s movements. Reconnaissance and intelligence gathering have won and lost wars. Being able to gather and relay that information quickly, accurately, consistently, and covertly¡ªand preferably in a way the enemy can¡¯t do something about. That is what I want. Total information awareness.¡± ¡°Of course,¡± Schugel nodded. ¡°Yes, such would give us a huge advantage. If you can¡¯t see the chessboard except for the nearest squares, it would be difficult to plan your next move. Being able to see the board in its entirety and know what pieces your enemy has available is a godsend¡ªespecially if the enemy lacks that advantage. So, what did you have in mind? A new type of reconnaissance aircraft? Perhaps an instrument package? Something troops can deploy from the field?¡± I smirked. ¡°Think bigger. Higher, in fact.¡± ¡°Higher?¡± Schugel murmured, stroking his beard. ¡°Balloons?¡± ¡°Higher, herr doktor. I want to put a manmade satellite into orbit. Something much like that,¡± I pointed to the computation device currently charging, ¡°but equipped with observation formulas. What I¡¯m thinking is simple. If we lack the capability and infrastructure to create rocket fuel at the moment, then we skip the rockets. You¡¯ve already showed that we can use electricity to charge an orb with mana. So, we build a rocket that uses flight formulas instead. Its only purpose is to gain altitude, separate from the package, then come back down and burn up upon reentry. Between six hundred to twelve hundred miles up should be good enough for putting a satellite into orbit for observation, if I¡¯m not mistaken. We¡¯ll have to test, obviously. ¡°The package itself would have its own flight formulas and other formulas to keep its orientation, altitude, and position above the Earth¡¯s surface. It would ideally have a few formulas for visual observation, infrared, ultraviolet, radio, radar, and mana signature detection. It should be capable of sending data and receiving new instructions at any time. It would also need to be able to keep itself charged, so it stays up indefinitely¡ªthe same ambient mana collection and fixing formulas you want to put on the larger bombs. Unless you can come up with a small power source to keep it up indefinitely? I want to put one right overhead as a test. In the future, I want models that are focused on communication, relaying magical and radio signals. Say, we record a video of Governor Vazquez giving a speech here. I want to be able to then transmit that recording to a satellite, which when beams it back down over a much wider area, all across Brasa, to anyone with the equipment to receive it. Which is another goal we need to work towards¡ªmaking screens like the one you have there common and affordable for the common person.¡± At some point, Schugel had taken out his notepad again and begun frantically writing. ¡°Yes, yes, I see,¡± he murmured, nodding along. ¡°Which would you like me to focus on first?¡± I didn¡¯t hesitate at all with my answer. ¡°The satellite. Information is key. Especially if we can use it to find enemy mages operating in country. The more we know, the easier it will be to root out the commie infestation. After that, I want those production units,¡± I gestured towards the 3d printer, ¡°and I want you to arrange for a group to be trained in their operation. Specifically, in adding in designs for things for them to produce. I¡¯m giving the green light on whatever you need to make that happen as quickly as possible. Fill out the forms and I¡¯ll rubber stamp them. Information, production, and acquisition of resources¡ªthose are the three areas where we need to focus as a country in the coming five years. Coincidentally, that overlaps neatly with where we, where MSF needs to focus as a company to expand and improve.¡± ¡°Very well, colonel! I will contact you as soon as I have something ready,¡± Schugel grinned, turning away and moving to a chalkboard as he began to work. I left him to it, leaving the lab. Opening a channel, I broadcast, ¡°Lt. Col. Weiss. What¡¯s your position?¡± A moment later, he answered, ¡°In the office, colonel. Do you need something?¡± ¡°Yes. I need you to put together a small team of people for me for a bit of a brainstorming session for new weapons and equipment. Make sure to include our regulars, not just aerial mages. I want the ground troops to make out a wishlist. I¡¯ll explain more when I get there.¡± ¡°Understood, ma¡¯am. Half an hour, in the conference room?¡± ¡°That¡¯s good.¡±
Moskva, Russy Federation, a little over a month later¡­
¡°¡­and it is our conclusion that the current abysmal state of our crop yields is due to the proletariat farmers simply not working hard enough, Comrade Joseph.¡± Joseph leaned back in his seat, rubbing his fingers over his mustache. ¡°I see,¡± he murmured, frowning. Nodding, he eventually came to a conclusion. ¡°From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs. If the farmers lack the ability to farm, then clearly they have no need of food. Those who do not work shall not eat. Seize the farms and remove the farmers. If they cannot use a sickle then they will learn to use a hammer. Send them to the mines. Replace them with people who want to work. If those do not work, or cannot produce the yields we need, then let them starve. Now,¡± he turned towards one of the men further down the table, ¡°what is the word on our Imperial scientist guests?¡± ¡°Big things, Comrade Joseph! They believe they have found a way to remove the need for a mage in the use of magic!¡± ¡°Excellent. As it should be,¡± Joseph nodded. ¡°Tell me more.¡± Lavrentiy Loria sighed quietly, listening as one of the men went on about some breakthrough or another. His interest was only mildly piqued at the implication that, should it succeed, then they could finally rid the Federation of the blight of mages. Thank God! It was honestly just unsightly that they had to rely on them to match the Empire¡¯s own mages. No man should have that much power over his fellow man. It went against God¡¯s plan and more importantly, it went against everything they believed in. It was hard to convince the people that they were all equal when some of them could fly and others could not, after all! The door to the meeting room clicked open and a messenger hurried in, bringing everyone the morning post. This was nothing unusual in and of itself and Loria thought nothing of it as he accepted a parcel for himself and the messenger moved on. Looking over the brown wax paper wrapped parcel held together with twine, Loria raised an eyebrow as he spotted the postage mark indicating it had come from overseas¡ªBrasa, of all places, before being forwarded through several departments and eventually finding its way to his hands. Taking out his pocket knife, he opened the package and laid its contents out before him. There, he found a few typed out reports, a folded newspaper, and a small stack of photographs. Flipping the newspaper open, his hands clenched it tightly as he beheld the front page¡ªand the devilish angel in the photograph there. ¡°UUUOOOHHH~!¡± Loria stood, knocking his chair to the floor as he turned the photographs over and found more of the same. Images of her! Of that Imperial mage who had so humiliated them¡ªand so aroused him! He felt himself shaking, his hands going pale around the photographs as he felt his face heat up and a discomfort grow in his pants. ¡°Comrade Loria? Is something the matter?¡± Comrade Joseph asked, and it was only then that Loria faintly realized the entire meeting had gone silent. He had interrupted them and made a scene, but he couldn¡¯t bring himself to care. This was too important! ¡°N-nothing is,¡± he licked his lips, swallowing thickly as drool pooled in his mouth as he flipped to the next photo, staring at her delicious, small, delicate figure¡ªpale even in the black and white photographs, ¡°nothing is the matter Comrade Joseph. No! No, no, no, no, no~! Nothing could be further from the truth, in fact!¡± Joseph let out a sigh that Loria knew tended to precede someone being sent to the gulag, but he just didn¡¯t care! Not even Comrade Joseph¡¯s ire could cool his ardor! ¡°Well? Spit it out, then? What is it?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve found her~!¡± Loria¡¯s grin was so large it hurt. ¡°And I CANNOT GET ANY MORE ERECT THAN I AM AT THIS MOMENT!!!¡± There were noises of disgust from the others in the room, but he ignored them. They didn¡¯t understand¡ªcouldn¡¯t understand! ¡°Comrade Joseph! Send me to Brasa with an entire battalion of aerial mages! No, two! Three~! We will capture the delicious, I mean despicable war criminal! The one who humiliated us so thoroughly with that propaganda video, so brazenly flying the Imperial flag over our capital! THE DEVIL OF THE RHINE WILL BE MINE~!!!¡± 15 A Young Girl¡¯s Outer Heaven 15
Commissioned by anonymous user.
I frowned as I shifted slightly in my uniform pants, looking at myself in the mirror. Looking up at Visha as she got dressed, I asked, ¡°Did these shrink in the wash?¡± ¡°Hm?¡± she hummed, looking up. I gestured down to where they were at least an inch short and I was having difficulty squeezing into them. They were uncomfortably tight in the thigh and posterior region. Visha took one look and snorted quietly, hiding her smile behind her hand. When I glared, she rolled her eyes. ¡°It¡¯s a growth spurt.¡± I blinked, looking down at the pants again. ¡°But¡­ I thought I¡¯d be stuck like this. Malnourishment and being a soldier¡­¡± My adjutant came over and quickly began stuffing me into my uniform shirt, shaking her head. ¡°And that body was vaporized according to Dr. Schugel, wasn¡¯t it? This one¡¯s mostly mana, right?¡± It seemed obvious when she put it like that. I sighed and tried smacking her hands away, only to find my own hands smacked away as she began buttoning my shirt. The sleeves were just a little short as well when I shifted my arms. ¡°I suppose you¡¯re right.¡± ¡°Mhmm!¡± Visha grinned. ¡°We¡¯ll get you measured and some new uniforms made, with some room to grow. Until then, you¡¯ll be fine. No one will even notice.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll notice,¡± I grumbled as she finished and I began pulling on my socks, then boots. Thankfully, the boots were long enough to cover the gap so it didn¡¯t look like my pants were too short. ¡°Going to just use the summer uniform for a while instead.¡± ¡°It¡¯ll be easier to hide that way, yes,¡± Visha agreed. ¡°Now, come on. We don¡¯t want to miss this!¡± Shaking my head, I followed Visha outside where a vehicle was parked for us. She settled into the driver¡¯s seat as I climbed into the other side, and a moment later we were riding across the island towards the air field. There, near the end of the field, we found most of the officers standing under an open tent for shade as Schugel¡¯s assistants sat in front of a group of instrument panels. Standing on the end of the runway were¡ªI took a quick count, my eyes growing wide as the number grew¡ªone hundred of what looked like pretty standard rockets, at least as far as I could tell. It had only been a month since the attack on the senate and the good doctor had been a very busy man since then, it seemed. Visha parked us beside the other vehicles and we climbed out, making our way inside where we were flagged over by Weiss, standing beside a cooler. ¡°Colonel, Captain,¡± he smiled and sent me a salute, before taking a sip from his cup of juice. Visha and I quickly collected our own cups of ice and poured ourselves some juice as well. ¡°The good doctor is making a few last minute checks. He said something about a surprise second demonstration.¡± Schugel and surprises? I winced. ¡°That¡¯s never good.¡± ¡°You¡¯re sure? He seemed to think you especially would enjoy the show, colonel,¡± Weiss raised an eyebrow and I frowned at that. Soon enough, a vehicle came flying up with one of the doctor¡¯s assistants driving him. The doctor leapt out of the passenger seat the moment it was stopped, walking straight for me with a mad grin on his face. At the other end of the runway, I caught a flash of sunlight gleaming off of aluminum and raised an eyebrow, spotting a tractor hauling a plane of some sort¡ªI couldn¡¯t make out what it was exactly from here. ¡°Thank you for coming, everyone!¡± Schugel grinned as he made his way past us to the equipment set up to the side of the tent. ¡°What¡¯s this ¡®surprise¡¯ you have for us, Herr Doktor?¡± I asked, and he waved me off. ¡°All in good time, colonel! Let¡¯s not spoil the fun, hm?¡± He gestured out towards the rockets standing on the end of the runway. ¡°We have learned much over the last month¡¯s many tests and failures. And we had much to learn! After all, we are the first people to put an object into space! And today, we will be the first to keep one there indefinitely! Ah, I wish I could be there to see their faces when the Americans and Russy spot them flying over their skies!¡± ¡°Why so many?¡± I asked, and the mad scientist grinned. ¡°Why not?!¡± he countered, and I sent him an unamused look. ¡°I thought it should be obvious, colonel. You said you wanted to see everything. To have, what was it again? Ah yes, total information awareness. This is how we do it! A network of satellites overhead, all talking to each other and beaming that information down to us here in Brasa!¡± He tapped away at one of the screens and a map of the world came up with a bunch of dots and lines moving across it. ¡°As you know, we can¡¯t have a single satellite running full time, otherwise it will run out of power¡ªespecially at lower altitudes. But if we push them into a higher orbit, the sweet spot we discovered they will stay there with minimal use of maneuvering thrusters. Less use of the thrusters means less power consumption, which means more up time. So this is what we will do,¡± he gestured at the map. ¡°We will have several satellites in geostationary orbit over Brasa, cycling between active and low power modes at regular intervals to recharge. So while one satellite is listening for transmissions and sending the data it receives down to us, another is taking photographs, and another is doing a radar scan, while still another scans for mana signatures. Then, they shut off and recharge while a second set takes up their work. That is why each and every one of those rockets carries five satellites which it will deploy before falling back down and burning up.¡± I nodded. ¡°What are you using to charge them?¡± ¡°A combination of ambient mana absorption and converting solar and other radiation into mana! We¡¯ve had a breakthrough on that front! You see, without the atmosphere to protect them, they are absolutely bombarded with radiation up there. It¡¯s free energy, really! Of course, that energy is more abundant when they¡¯re in direct sunlight, so at night, or when they are on the dark side of the planet, they won¡¯t be able to charge as quickly, but we¡¯ve adjusted the activity intervals to make sure that they always stay charged and continuously build a store of mana. That way, if we ever need to use them for a prolonged time, we can tap into that reserve.¡± ¡°How efficient is it down here, to convert that into electricity directly?¡± I asked, and Schugel paused, before grinning and taking out his notepad. ¡°I don¡¯t know, fraulein. But we can find out! Later,¡± he snapped the notepad shut. ¡°As for the other satellites, we intend to put several into stationary orbit above America, more above the Federation, and a smattering over the other major European nations. These will work in shifts so that we have continuous surveillance of the surface. Still others will be put into an orbit that will see them circling the globe. These, we will launch over the northern and southern hemispheres so that every hour, a different satellite can pass over the same area of interest and take readings. We can adjust the timing so that it takes readings of an area, sends off a transmission, powers down to charge, then when it reaches the edge of its observable area power back up and take another set of readings¡ªrepeating this as it flies around the globe. That way, there is not an area on the globe hidden from our sight!¡± Weiss hummed. ¡°We¡¯re going to need an entire new division just to man the equipment and another to analyze the data we¡¯re getting from it. It¡¯ll probably be best to construct a new building to house all of the equipment, too.¡± ¡°I leave that in your capable hands, Weiss,¡± I chuckled. ¡°You can probably lower the standards there. No need to recruit and train more people capable of combat for those positions. We can use civilians and just give them a security clearance. Swear them to secrecy. Probably need another division actually, an internal security division, to make sure none of them are leaking information.¡± ¡°Yes ma¡¯am. I¡¯ll get started on it right away,¡± my second in command nodded. ¡°As soon as we¡¯re done here.¡± Checking his watch, Schugel nodded and gestured me forward. ¡°If you would like to do the honors, colonel? The launch sequence is tied to this button.¡± ¡°Well, it¡¯s not every day you make history and simultaneously get one up on the entire rest of the world,¡± I mused, walking up and looking over the keyboard for a moment. Schugel pointed to the return key and I stabbed it with a finger. A moment later, a rush of air sounded from the field and I looked over to see one of the rockets lift off, accelerating upwards quickly. Then another, and another¡ªall of them with barely a whisper of sound, as opposed to the roar of a traditional rocket as it rode a sustained explosion upwards. No, there were very obviously magically powered, running off of flight formulas. I turned a look on Schugel and he grinned. ¡°To answer your question, yes! As soon as we have the satellites up to guide them in, we will be able to make a missile that uses a mana based propellant and strike as far as the Russy Federation from here! We just send them up above the atmosphere, let them fly for a while, then send them back down. It will use much less fuel that way.¡± And so begins the age of the Intercontinental Ballistic Missile, I grinned so hard my face hurt. ¡°Let¡¯s keep that one under our hats for now, hm?¡± ¡°Of course!¡± Schugel agreed with a chuckle. We watched and waited as the rockets shot off one after another, until there were none left. The doctor moved over to begin checking the readouts on the instruments. ¡°It will be a few hours before they¡¯re where they need to be and we start receiving telemetry. I will let you know when there¡¯s something to see. Until then, we have a second demonstration planned.¡± ¡°You ready for me to do up, doc?¡± I turned to find Edwina had snuck up behind us at some point. I raised an eyebrow at what I saw. Instead of her usual shorts and loose shirt, she wore a set of denim jeans and a leather jacket, with a leather and wool aviator¡¯s hat and goggles on her head. ¡°What are you doing here?¡± Our pilot gave me a bright smile as Schugel nodded. ¡°Yes! Begin the demonstration!¡± ¡°You got it, papi~!¡± she giggled and I blinked as she rushed off onto the runway, where a shiny aluminum aircraft had been parked, with a tractor parked off to the side which had clearly pulled it into place. Studying the plane, I raised an eyebrow as I took in the design. It reminded me a bit of the Messerschmitt, save that it had no visible jet intake or engines. I glanced between the plane and where the rockets had launched from and realized where this was going. I turned to Schugel as Edwina began climbing in and the man grinned. ¡°It was surprisingly easy to find a few men and women among the German immigrants who had worked on aircraft in the fatherland,¡± he explained. ¡°They had their doubts at first, but I managed to convince them to give it a try. From there, we began stuffing it with all of the newest toys we¡¯ve been working on. As you may have guessed, the aircraft is powered by a mana battery and flight formula, in much the same way the rockets were. However! This is not just a test of a purely magically powered aircraft, but also of several other things you wanted. You will want to take to the air for this, I believe. So you can see just how effective it is.¡± I turned as Edwina shot by, rolling down the runway and picking up speed. ¡°Weiss, Visha, with me,¡± I called and we took off out of the tent, heading up as we watched her take off and climb. I spun up a radar formula and felt Visha and Weiss do similar, running other detection formulas to get her flight speed, altitude, and record the entire test. ¡°She¡¯s fast, ma¡¯am. She¡¯s already gone supersonic,¡± Weiss murmured as we watched. ¡°In a climb, even,¡± Visha added, sounding impressed. ¡°That¡¯s much faster than anything anyone else had during the war.¡± Eventually, Edwina leveled off at 50000 feet and we clocked her at just shy of 2000 mph, or Mach 2.6 as she circled the city. After about half an hour, she turned back and began descending, eventually settling at 1000 feet above the airfield as she began doing maneuvers¡ªtight turns, rolls, and loops as she showed off. ¡°I believe it¡¯s time for the weapons test, my dear!¡± Schugel broadcast over the radio, and the aircraft turned towards the river. ¡°Colonel, if you¡¯ll turn your attention to the river, we¡¯ve cleared it for this demonstration and set up several floating targets.¡± We moved closer to the river as Edwina lined up for a strafing run. A moment later, machine guns on the wings began to belch out rounds. There was just one problem with that¡­ ¡°Those are mage bullets!¡± Visha yelped as we watched a burst of tracers tear into one target, then another, and another. Edwina pulled up and circled back around and as I watched, my heart hammered in my chest as excitement filled me, and once again my face hurt from smiling. ¡°He got it working,¡± I murmured as Edwina completed circling around and attacked from the other direction. This time, the water exploded as multiple explosive formulas struck their targets. Weiss turned a concerned look on me. ¡°This is something you asked for?¡± ¡°Of course. What did you think that little weapon design session was for?¡± I sent him an amused look. ¡°For designing a weapon and gear for the regular troops to carry! Not this!¡± he gestured at where Edwina had switched to formula lasers, which were punching holes in and burning more targets. ¡°This is¡­¡±Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. ¡°Typical of Herr Doktor Schugel, yes,¡± I nodded. ¡°Give him a small little idea and he just,¡± I gestured at the plane, ¡°takes off with it, sometimes in unexpected directions. Other times, in entirely expected directions. What did you think would be the next logical step from a man-portable weapon, Weiss? Of course it would be to mount it on a vehicle! Either a jeep, or a tank, or in this case, an aircraft. And it¡¯s wonderful~! Just think of how useful this will be for us!¡± Weiss sighed, nodding. ¡°Yes, colonel. I¡¯m also thinking of how ¡®wonderful¡¯ it will be when the Americans and Federation figure it out and start producing the same type of equipment.¡± I waved him off. ¡°It was bound to happen eventually.¡± ¡°That¡¯s all of the river targets. The bomb next?¡± Edwina asked over the radio. ¡°Yes! Colonel, you¡¯ll want to turn your attention out to sea for this next one. I recommend not looking directly into the blast!¡± Edwina turned for the ocean and quickly accelerated back up to Mach 1 as she began to climb. We climbed a bit higher and watched as bomb bay doors opened on the bottom of the plane and a singular, dark shape dropped out of it. Below, a boat had been anchored a few miles out from the harbor, with all other sea traffic cleared for the time being. The bomb fell, adjusting course midair as it locked onto the boat and drove itself down. There was a sudden, bright flash and Visha and Weiss both winced, shielding their eyes. I stared straight into it as I watched the mana bomb go off, a formula measuring the yield at just over a kiloton as a mushroom cloud formed over the water. The boat, of course, was completely gone¡ªannihilated in magical fire. Edwina passed by overhead and turned for the runway as she came in for a landing. Seeing the demonstration was done, the three of us flew back to the tent. As we went, Visha quietly asked, ¡°Colonel?¡± ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°¡­What does this mean for us?¡± ¡°Hm?¡± I asked, sending her a confused look. ¡°When aircraft, tanks, and even normal troops can carry magical armaments¡­ what use will an aerial mage be on the battlefield?¡± I sent her a smile. ¡°What use are regular troops when aircraft and tanks exist? It¡¯s the same situation, with the same answer. An aircraft or a tank can¡¯t occupy a street corner. They can¡¯t kick in a door. They can¡¯t carry out a precision strike, or carry out a stealth mission. There will always be a place for regular troops and aerial mages. That¡¯s not to say that this doesn¡¯t change the battles to come. It absolutely does. We¡¯ll need to start drilling stealth, illusion, speed, and shield training. When the other nations catch up, everyone is going to have magical armaments and equipment¡ªwhich means that the tools that were so convenient at detecting enemy mages will be rendered mostly useless, when they start getting returns off their own equipment, the enemy¡¯s equipment, and can¡¯t differentiate equipment from a mage. We will stay ahead of the curve.¡± ¡°Going to need another division, to detect spies and disseminate false information,¡± Weiss muttered, shaking his head as we landed. ¡°Well?! What did you think?¡± Schugel demanded as he approached, a mad grin on his face. My smile must have matched his own, given the way several of those around us shivered. ¡°Herr Doktor, it was marvelous! Am I to assume you have a working design for out magical equipment, then?¡± ¡°I do! It¡¯s already been programmed into the fabrication machines and I¡¯ve given the factory a list of the materials needed to produce each unit. You should be ready to equip a division by the end of the month.¡± ¡°And the plane?¡± I asked, and he grinned. ¡°We¡¯re calling it the Sturmvogel! The Storm Bird! It is ready to go into production immediately,¡± he nodded enthusiastically. ¡°Well, assuming you can get the materials. The governor¡ªsorry, the president¡ªinformed me, indirectly of course, that the aluminum needed to make more is somewhat scarce here. The country has mines, but they are slow and inefficient. That is why I will be working on a tool to begin digging up and processing more of everything soon! If you could sign the requisition forms I¡¯ve submitted for those tanks, it would help.¡± I raised an eyebrow, curious. ¡°You¡¯re going to use tanks?¡± ¡°Just the bottom! We will rip out the engine and other unimportant parts, replace the engine with a mana battery, and then build on top using the tracks as a platform. It¡¯s just a temporary solution. A testbed for the mining technology.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll sign it,¡± I agreed. Looking back towards the runway as Edwina came in for a landing, I shook my head. ¡°How long can it stay airborn?¡± Schugel grinned. ¡°It depends on the charge, of course. But we¡¯ve calculated that a day¡¯s worth of charge time should last days of operation time! We haven¡¯t actually tested it that long,¡± he admitted. Looking towards Edwina as she approached, he called, ¡°What did the readout for the fuel reserve say?¡± ¡°Ninety-eight percent, after shooting the guns,¡± she answered with a wide grin. ¡°That¡¯s mildly terrifying,¡± Visha murmured, earning a nod from Weiss. ¡°So papi~, how soon can we convert my planes from props to mana driven?¡± the pilot asked, and I saw her angle now. She was buttering the doctor up to get herself some upgrades. Devious. I like it. Schugel waved a hand dismissively. ¡°I can have mana batteries and fuel sensors made by the end of the day. It¡¯s up to your mechanics to convert the aircraft and add the new sensors. New engines would need to be fabricated to have somewhere to use to produce thrust, obviously, but there isn¡¯t much to those. It mostly depends on your people.¡± Edwina nodded and sent us a wave as she hurried away. ¡°I need to go light a fire under some people.¡± She paused only long enough to turn and demand, ¡°I¡¯m going to do a complete refit! I want a second battery and some of those spell guns to stick in them!¡± ¡°Yes, yes, I¡¯ll have them done by the time you¡¯re finished pulling out the old ones,¡± Schugel nodded. ¡°Wasted money, but the upgrade looks worth it,¡± Edwina groused as she climbed up onto the tractor to move it into position and get the plane moved into a hangar. I made my way back to our jeep, where Weiss had taken the driver¡¯s seat and Visha now sat in the back. I sent him a questioning look as he started driving us back. Weiss answered the unspoken question. ¡°We¡¯ve gotten all we can out of our guest. Intelligence has compiled a report and a copy should be on your desk by now. Unfortunately, he didn¡¯t know anything particularly useful about their operation going on in Sao Paolo. Just the name of the man running it and those closest to him in the chain of command. One Captain Serge Gorbachev.¡± Humming, I considered that and nodded. ¡°Think our assets in Sao Paolo can identify comrade Gorbachev?¡± ¡°That shouldn¡¯t be an issue,¡± Weiss nodded. ¡°Alright. I want him identified and his schedule.¡± Grinning up at Weiss, I added, ¡°I¡¯d like to have a friendly, quiet chat with the captain in private later this week.¡± ¡°Should we invite him to visit us, or will you be going yourself?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll go myself,¡± I confirmed. ¡°We¡¯ll need to work around Edwina¡¯s upgrades, however.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll speak with her and convince her to get our VIP transport retrofitted first. We¡¯ll have it ready by the time we have the information we need.¡± ¡°Good. Good. Also, Weiss, I want to look into putting together a larger flight crew. More pilots, copilots, mechanics, gunners. Everything we need to run those four aircraft and more at the same time. Let Edwina know.¡± Weiss winced. ¡°She¡¯s not going to like it.¡± ¡°Sell it as them being on loan from us if we need to mobilize everything, since she doesn¡¯t have enough people for that. Or for rush jobs like this, where we want to do repairs or upgrades on them quickly.¡± My second in command sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡± ¡°If she complains too much, send her to me. I¡¯ll talk her around myself.¡± He nodded and Visha popped up between us from the back seat. ¡°We already have a motor pool. Why not just expand on it with a group of people specifically trained to work on planes? We could cross-train everyone over time, that way everyone in the motor pool knows how to work on them. We don¡¯t have to cross-train pilots, obviously, but more mechanics is always good, right?¡± Weiss chuckled, sending her a nod. ¡°Yes, we can do that. Split it off between pilots and mechanics. That will be less likely to step on her toes. I¡¯ll propose rotating out people to be trained how to repair them in an emergency.¡± ¡°There you go. Take that to her and see what she says,¡± I chuckled. ¡°Speaking of the motor pool though,¡± Visha murmured, ¡°we¡¯re going to be switching to all mana based vehicles soon, aren¡¯t we?¡± I shook my head. ¡°Not even remotely. Not until we have a portable power source that can charge them, or the infrastructure to do so.¡± Rolling my eyes, I asked, ¡°What¡¯s the use of a car that can only drive four hundred miles, when the place you¡¯re going doesn¡¯t have the capability to refuel it and you can¡¯t bring your own refueling capability? No. For now, gas and diesel are just too convenient, too widely used, not to keep our current fleet of vehicles. One day, perhaps. Until then, we¡¯ll stick to specialized units. The planes, for instance, can be charged over time and take on an unlimited amount of ¡®fuel,¡¯ and can fly. They can make it back to be recharged. We can¡¯t guarantee that with land vehicles. Besides¡­¡± I sighed and gestured at the road we were traveling down¡ªfreshly leveled and paved to exacting German standards. ¡°The rest of the country is mostly little dirt roads that barely qualify as a trail. I would rather work on building a fleet of helicopters¡ª¡± ¡°Ma¡¯am?¡± Weiss asked, sending me a look as a thought hit me like a bolt from the blue. ¡°¡­I need to speak with Schugel.¡± ¡°We just left him,¡± Visha sent me a smile. ¡°Did you forget something?¡± ¡°No, I realized something. If we¡¯re using magic formulas for flight in vehicles now, then there are things we can do that don¡¯t rely on conventional aerodynamics or flight mechanics. For instance, a short to medium troop transport that can take off and land vertically, in a tiny space, completely silently, while invisible. Lifting vehicles to move equipment. Individual or two seat motorcycles that fly.¡± Visha and Weiss exchanged a look at that and I frowned. ¡°What?¡± ¡°She sounds more excited about that last one than the others,¡± Visha grinned. ¡°Colonel, you remember you can fly under your own power?¡± Weiss teased! Actually teased! Me! I glowered, turning to look outside to hide my rising blush. ¡°Shut up. Weiss, you¡¯re a man, aren¡¯t you?! Surely you understand! It shouldn¡¯t even need to be said!¡± Weiss hummed as he considered it, before nodding. ¡°Ah. Yes, I understand now. But colonel, how do you understand?¡± Visha giggled. ¡°Well, she¡¯s always been a bit more like a boy than the other girls in the service. You should have seen how hard it was to get her into a dress the one time for a photo op¡ª¡± ¡°We don¡¯t speak of that,¡± I hissed, turning my glare on the both of them. ¡°It. Didn¡¯t. Happen. You¡¯re mistaken. And if you bring it up again, I will P.T. you until doomsday.¡± The pair fell silent and just as I turned away, a sly look crossed Visha¡¯s face. ¡°But she looked so cute~!¡± I unbuckled my seat belt and spun up a flight formula. I did not run away! I was merely¡­ hurrying to my office to write down my ideas to take to Schugel while they were still fresh! I made a mental note to find a petty way to get back at the both of them for laughing.
First Lieutenant Ivan Rabinovich sobbed silently as his lizard brain frantically sought some way to escape captivity with his miserable life intact. Unfortunately, in his bid to stay alive longer, he had already given the Imperials everything of value he knew. Everything that wasn¡¯t of value, too! They were happy to listen to everything he had to say, then cross check it later to make sure he kept his facts straight. It had bought him time¡ªa month, by his count. But now¡­ A door opened down the hall and the sounds of several sets of heavy boots came stomping down the corridor. Ivan let out a quiet whimper at the sound of his approaching death. ¡°No, no, no,¡± he moaned quietly as they approached. Three guards stopped in front of his cell and one of them undid the magical security on the cell while the other unlocked the physical lock. ¡°The colonel wants a word with you.¡± Ivan¡¯s body sagged as relief flooded him. He let out a hysterical little laugh as two of the guards ¡®helped¡¯ him to his feet and began hauling him out of the prison. The light burned his eyes and he winced as they hauled him outside and into the back of a flatbed truck. Ivan frowned in confusion at the other things in the back with him and his guards: a young tree, perhaps an orange tree, ready to plant and a shovel. He put it out of his mind as the truck began moving, settling in to enjoy the ride. It was good to be outside after a month in the dark. The heat of the outside was oppressive but he didn¡¯t mind one bit as a nice breeze from their movement washed over him. For a time, he could relax and pretend that he was going to be freed¡ªperhaps even exchanged for concessions or another prisoner. Still, he had to wonder what that tiger in human skin wanted with him. Perhaps another round of questioning? Or confirmation of something I¡¯ve already said? His musings eventually came to a stop when the truck did. The guards stood and gestured for him to get out. Then, to his surprise, his chains were undone. One of the guards kept a rifle pointed at him while the other two directed him to heft the tree. It was heavy, but he eventually got a good handhold on the bundled up roots and sort of half waddled along as they directed him, one of them carrying the shovel with them. ¡°That¡¯s good right there,¡± a young girl¡¯s familiar voice called in Russy of all things and the guards directed Ivan to drop it. Ivan straightened up and began dusting himself off as the guards backed up, the one with the shovel stabbing it into the ground beside the tree. To his surprise, they climbed back into the truck and left him there, alone save for one other. Looking over to that void of mana in his senses, he found the source of the voice. Blue eyes locked with his brown and she grinned. Ivan flinched, cowering away a step, but when nothing happened he eventually straightened back up. ¡°What,¡± he swallowed on a suddenly dry throat. ¡°What do you want?¡± ¡°Ah, comrade Rabinovich. It¡¯s so good to see you again,¡± she lied, that terrible smile growing wider. ¡°I have a little task for you. I¡¯m sure you won¡¯t mind doing a little gardening. After all, every good communist should be just as willing to pick up a shovel as a rifle, no?¡± Ivan nodded jerkily. ¡°C-certainly.¡± ¡°Good, good. Here¡¯s what I want,¡± she moved just a bit beyond the tree and pointed. A mage blade sprang to life on the tips of her fingers and traced a line in the ground as she began to walk it off. Ivan frowned as she sketched out a rectangle much larger than would be needed to plant the tree. Two and a half meters long by three quarters of a meter wide. ¡°Go ahead and start digging,¡± she instructed as she finished marking it off and moved off to the side, where a wooden reclining chair sat beside a table, with a pitcher of iced orange juice and a single glass. She picked up the glass and took a sip, before nodding pointedly towards the shovel. Ivan rolled up his sleeves and picked up the shovel. Slowly, he started digging. Perhaps I can drag this out a few days¡ª ¡°Don¡¯t bother dragging your heels. We both know there are ways of encouraging you to work faster. They¡¯re ways your people are intimately familiar with, after all,¡± she sounded entirely too smug about that fact and Ivan glared at the ground as he worked faster. ¡°Much better. Now, I had a few questions, if you don¡¯t mind?¡± ¡°By all means,¡± Ivan panted out of breath already. ¡°How deep should I dig?¡± ¡°Just keep going until I tell you to stop,¡± the devil leered. ¡°Now¡­ You told my men something interesting. You said it was too late to stop what was coming. What, exactly, is coming?¡± ¡°The Narodnyy Komissariat Vnutrennikh Del.¡± She blonde she-devil frowned, muttering a quiet, ¡°People¡¯s Commissarat for Internal Affairs? Why does that sound familiar?¡± ¡°You would know it better as the NKVD,¡± Ivan grunted, tossing another spade full of dirt. ¡°Ah, right. The predecessor to the KGB,¡± the girl nodded. ¡°Tell me, who is the head of the NKVD?¡± Ivan paused in his shoveling to turn a nasty smile on the girl. ¡°That would be Comrade Loria. Perhaps you¡¯ve heard of him?¡± He allowed his eyes to roam over her body, taking in her small, trim form. ¡°He has certainly heard of you, and you are just his type.¡± His brief satisfaction at her look of disgust was wiped off his face as she nodded back to the shovel. ¡°Keep digging. I want that hole six feet deep by sunset.¡± Six feet? Ivan wondered as he turned back and began shoveling, doing the mental conversion. That¡¯s¡­! ¡°Two meters.¡± ¡°Roughly.¡± Ivan trembled, nearly dropping the shovel. ¡°You are making me dig my own grave. What kind of, of monster would do that to a man?!¡± ¡°I know! Isn¡¯t it wonderful? A little slice of the communist utopia I¡¯ve brought here just for you!¡± her voice perked up, sounding positively angelic in her enthusiasm. ¡°Of course, we¡¯ll be putting our own twist on it. That tree will be planted over your body as your headstone. That way, even in death, you can continue to provide a valuable service to the people. As fertilizer.¡± Ivan wept in impotent fury and despair as he stabbed the shovel into the ground. 16 A Young Girl¡¯s Outer Heaven 16
Commissioned by anonymous user.
Stepping out of the newly installed elevator, I looked over the new additions to our home and let out a quiet whistle. The engineering corps had done a fine job turning a big, unused section of the basement into a secure data center¡ªwith help from civilian contractors, of course. The floor, walls, and ceiling had all been paneled over with warm wood waxed to a shine. Power, phone, and other cables had been run under the floor and in the ceiling, coming down routed through floor to ceiling columns and now came up at various work stations. Those work stations were all comprised of terminals nearly identical to the ones I had seen in Schugel¡¯s lab¡ªlooking like a combination of magic and 1930s era technology, with typewriter style keyboard buttons and displays created by magical holograms. Off in the corner was something I had no trouble recognizing, given the sounds it made and the way it was spitting out sheet after sheet of paper. Someone had apparently used magic and a bit of engineering to create something very much like a color laser printer, which was currently spewing reports, maps, and graphs. Towards the front of the room was a large projector, currently showing the view from every satellite we had in orbit. Although, some of those had a timestamp showing the current image was what we had last gotten from them and a countdown to the next update. And in the back was a large, but not as large as I was expecting, device that I took to be the equivalent of a server¡ªgiven that everything seemed to be routed into it in one way or another. Looking around, the room had been visibly delineated into distinct sections, though I couldn¡¯t tell what each person¡¯s job was just by looking. I knew, however, that the analysis of everything gathered wasn¡¯t done in this room. What was done here would be an initial analysis¡ªmostly documenting what the images showed, the date and time they were taken, where they were taken, and other things. It would then be sorted by region and handed off to our new departments for handling all of it. ¡°What do you think?¡± I turned a grin up at Weiss. ¡°I think it¡¯s wonderful. Now, we need someone to add one of those projectors to the briefing room so we can get a stream straight from the satellites if we want.¡± ¡°I thought you might say that. The installation is scheduled for later in the week,¡± Weiss assured me with a grin. ¡°Excellent. Good job, Weiss.¡± ¡°Thank you, colonel,¡± he nodded, before gesturing for me to follow as he made his way back into the elevator. We went up two levels and stepped out near the briefing room. Heading inside, he gave a nod to a private who was just leaving and made his way over to the table. Opening the folder that had been placed there, he began taking out printed pages and laying them out. I frowned as I took in the images. They were of a section of the Atlantic and Pacific and appeared to have been taken over the course of the last several days, according to the time and date stamps. Weiss laid out a map with two printed paths in solid lines, which became several dashed lines pointing in our general direction. Or at least, the general direction of South America. ¡°Two fleets. These are Federation Navy vessels,¡± I pointed out. ¡°They are,¡± Weiss confirmed. ¡°Troop transports, equipment transports, support and defense ships. They¡¯re even sending several of what the analysts have identified as fuel tankers. Neither of them is the largest Russy fleet we¡¯ve ever seen, but it¡¯s still very large.¡± ¡°So the projected paths here show the Atlantic fleet could go for anywhere between Cuba and Sao Paolo?¡± My second in command nodded. ¡°Yes. Unfortunately, they¡¯ll need a few more days to determine just where the fleet is going. As for the Pacific fleet¡­ Either they¡¯re planning to take Hawaii, attack the west coast of the mainland United States, or plan to put in to our west somewhere. Best guess is Colombia, but again, we won¡¯t know more for several days.¡± That was worrying. There were several things I could think of that a commie fleet could get up to, none of them good. ¡°Put together a group to get with the analysts and get a list of projected landing points, then workshop worst case scenarios and responses we could make. In the meantime, we should prepare as though at least one of them means to land here. Our little Russy rat told us the NKVD were coming, so we¡¯ll work off of that. For the Atlantic fleet, assume they¡¯re sending their shock troops to reinforce the group they left in Sao Paolo. The best they have.¡± ¡°They¡¯re communists, so their best isn¡¯t much,¡± Weiss chuckled and I sent him an amused smile. ¡°True, but it¡¯s better to overestimate the enemy than underestimate them. Expect the worst, plan for worse than that. So, we¡¯ll plan as though we would be facing the best our enemies had to throw at us during the war.¡± ¡°Then we should¡ª¡± A knock at the door cut Weiss off as the same private from before rushed in. ¡°Colonel, Lt. Colonel, sorry to interrupt! This just came in!¡± He handed off not a sheet of paper but a very small cube I recognized as one of Schugel¡¯s computation devices, before hurrying back out the door and closing it behind him. Touching the cube with my mana, I activated it and found it contained data¡ªvideo, specifically. Spinning up a hologram formula, I let it play. The video showed a view of the Federation fleet in the Atlantic in ludicrously high fidelity. As we watched, men and women in Federation uniforms moved out onto the deck¡ªwith enough fidelity, in fact, to tell that most of them looked young and fresh faced. None of them appeared to be over the age of twenty-five, and most were probably barely out of their teens. The satellite¡¯s mana sensors had gone off then, highlighting each of them as a mage, as they lifted off into the air began doing aerial maneuver drills and live fire exercises. As we watched and the satellite¡¯s perspective changed as it flew overhead, more men and women poured out of the other ships. More and more of them flooded the skies as they began trading light spell fire¡ªenough to practice with shields, but not enough to wound, cripple, or kill a competent mage; and while no one ever accused the commies of competence, just from the short video I was watching, they looked at least as skilled as the average American or Commonwealth unit. In fact, they all shared many similarities to the aerial mages of those countries, given that they were using the same maneuvers. And while some maneuvers were just plain universal, the Americans and Commonwealth had a certain style to their flying that was distinct, and these troops seemed to have incorporated both. We knew they were sending ¡®volunteer forces¡¯ for the longest time and suspected they had begun training the enemy at some point. But these¡­ they look like they¡¯ve been doing nothing but training. Perhaps the Federation pulled a fast one after all? Communists don¡¯t value individuals, or people at all really, so I can¡¯t even say it¡¯s unrealistic that they would send some of their mages into the meat grinder to stall for time while a larger number of new recruits trained, then send them in all at once to try to finish the war quickly. Before the satellite passed over the horizon and the video ended, I paused the video and used a formula to get a count on the number of signatures present. My mouth fell open as the final number was displayed as: 3600. ¡°Shit.¡± It took me a moment to realize the word had come from my own mouth and I quickly closed it with a click. Beside me, Weiss let out a quiet breath, before adding his own two cents. ¡°Shit.¡± There was a bit of a terminology confusion when it came to aerial mage units, at least among the civilians. You see, when counting aerial mages, we were counted not as one would count regular troops, but as one would count aircraft. So a platoon of aerial mages was equivalent to the Commonwealth or American term flight, and contained four mages. A company was a squadron and contained twelve¡ªor three platoons. And a battalion was a wing and had thirty-six mages¡ªthree companies made up of three platoons each. This was because, put simply, each aerial mage was effectively worth an aircraft¡ªbe it a fighter, bomber, or some other role. We took up the space of a human but had firepower, versatility, and maneuverability that put us on par with some aircraft. We were more valuable than the common troops and everyone knew and acknowledged it as simple fact. At least, that was the commonly shared view between the Empire, Commonwealth, United States, Republic, Alliance, and others. All but one nation involved in the war, in fact. The Federation, being communists, didn¡¯t value the individual. They had no appreciation for their human resources and no compunctions against throwing them into the teeth of the meat grinder that the Empire became, in an effort to clog it. Human wave tactics were their go to, as opposed to the desperation move of literally everyone else. It was worse than playing against someone who thought the Zerg Rush was a great tactic, because at least those people could acknowledge the value of other tactics and adapt to a new meta! That mentality applied not just to their average foot soldier on the ground, but even to their aerial mages. No, it especially applied to their aerial mages. This again came down to a matter of ideology. Mages were living proof that the communist ideal that everyone was equal, and thus equally interchangeable cogs in the machine that was the Communist State was dead wrong. That¡¯s why they frittered away their mage troops like I spent bullets. The Empire, Americans, Commonwealth, Republic, and others all trained their aerial mages to fight in those low numbered units and, since that¡¯s mostly what we had been seeing from the Federation, that¡¯s what we had assumed they had trained in as well. Sure, they sent more people, but they were divided up into roughly similarly sized groups, if perhaps twenty-five percent larger on average¡ªmeaning they sent an extra man per platoon, scaling up to larger group sizes. That wasn¡¯t what we were seeing here. No, what I was looking at were three full regular troop sized battalions of aerial mages. There might have been that many in the entire duration of the war, from the time the Federation joined until the time of the Empire¡¯s surrender. It was hard to tell, because we shot down a lot of them but getting one back up into the air to keep fighting took between days to months, and it¡¯s not like we kept seeing the same Russy troops over and over. ¡°Where did they all come from?¡± I shook my head at the question. ¡°I think we both know.¡± Weiss made a quiet sound of grim agreement. In all likelihood, these were men and women who were tracked down using low level mage detection equipment meant to pick up passive mana signatures within a small area and then pressed into service. People who didn¡¯t even know they were mages, until a squad of infantry showed up at their door and dragged them off. Knowing what I knew of how communists had historically operated in my old world, that equipment had likely been waiting until the war ended and would have then been used to scan the population for mages, before arresting them and either executing them outright or, more likely, sending them to a mine or some other sort of labor camp. The problem was, they didn¡¯t have that fresh from the labor camp look that I recalled all of the older aerial mages having. No, if anything, these were mages who had never seen the horror of the gulag and only knew that service had been demanded of them¡ªlikely wrapped in commie propaganda of some sort, possibly with the lie that they were needed to defend their home. They looked fit and healthy¡ªmuch better fed than their counterparts, the ones who we had been fighting on the front lines. The huge numbers. That squeaky clean, new look to the people and third hand look to their uniforms. The American ¡®precision pocket watch¡¯ computation orbs and weapons. The foreign tactics and flying style. Their general health and fitness level. It all added up to a conclusion I didn¡¯t like, but was forced to come to regardless. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. ¡°The Americans left us an unwelcome surprise, with some help from the Commonwealth.¡± ¡°Ma¡¯am?¡± Weiss asked, raising an eyebrow. ¡°We saw it during the war, with the so-called ¡®volunteer forces.¡¯ Partisans of other factions, ostensibly flying under the flag of other countries. This proves they did more than provide a few men. They sent people to train the Russy forces, along with food, weapons, ammo, even operation orbs. This group probably had trainers from every nation with aerial mages. A large force of mages meant to sweep in from the Russy front for a crushing blow, likely while we were distracted elsewhere. Except they never got a chance to fight, because we surrendered before they could be deployed. So, what¡¯s a nation to do with a large, highly trained force of aerial mages?¡± Weiss thought about it for a moment before offering, ¡°Start a war. Expand their territory a bit.¡± ¡°Normally, I¡¯d agree with you,¡± I nodded. ¡°But these are commies. They¡¯re a death cult.¡± ¡°Mm. They¡¯d have them executed, then. Or find another way to use them up and not replace them.¡± ¡°Agreed. Except perhaps in this case, it¡¯s a bit of Column A and a bit of Column B. Send their unwanted troops in to fight and die to pave the way for a communist takeover of South America. And if they don¡¯t die, then at least here they¡¯re out of sight, out of mind for the proletariat back home, to prevent them from getting any silly ideas about rebellion.¡± I shut off the hologram and dropped the cube onto the table. Pulling out my chair, I sat down with a heavy sigh. Weiss sent me a concerned look before taking his own usual seat. He sat there silently, waiting patiently as I thought. Assume the worst. They¡¯re coming here to back up the commies in Sao Paolo and start taking over, doing what we¡¯ve been blaming them for but in earnest. Complete government takeover. Violent regime change. They likely know we¡¯re here and are getting ready for a fight. Based on the reports we¡¯ve been getting out of Sao Paolo, the local commie infiltrators just aren¡¯t ready for that. They don¡¯t have the infrastructure and supply lines established. They don¡¯t have housing set up and ready. They might not even know these people are coming. Meaning¡­ I pulled over the printed photo with the ships and eyeballed it again, at the same time I spun up another hologram and paused the video to focus on the ships they brought with them. Slowly, a smile spread across my face as an idea began to form. They¡¯re vulnerable to strikes on critical infrastructure and resources. That is, the infrastructure and resources they brought with them. An army marches on its belly. ¡°Why don¡¯t we give them a warm welcome with a taste of home?¡± Weiss sat up a bit straighter. ¡°Colonel?¡± ¡°Track them. Eventually, they¡¯re going to enter the range of the satellite we¡¯re keeping overhead. When they do, we¡¯ll send them a welcoming gift. A little meal we¡¯ll prepare ourselves. Tell Herr Doktor Schugel and Edwina to prepare the bomber and an appropriate payload of his smart bombs.¡± Grabbing a pen, I circled several ships¡ªspecifically, their tankers and a pair of large, civilian cargo vessels sitting near the tankers in the center of their formation. ¡°I want these ships destroyed.¡± ¡°Going after their fuel.¡± I grinned. ¡°And possibly their food! After all, the best meal we can prepare for them to remind them of home is a big, steaming plate of nothing. Of course, the more ships we can damage the better. Even better if we can sink a few. But I want the majority of our focus on these. They¡¯re the prize.¡± Weiss hummed, considering it. ¡°No food. No fuel. Coming in those numbers¡­¡± ¡°And don¡¯t think for a minute that the other ships aren¡¯t crammed to the gills with their regulars, tanks, artillery, and other toys,¡± I reminded. ¡°They¡¯ll descend on wherever they land like a swarm of locusts,¡± Weiss murmured. ¡°We saw what happened when the communists got hungry in the Federation. They sacked their own villages and left their own people to starve. There will be nothing stopping them from doing the same here.¡± ¡°Exactly,¡± I leered. ¡°We warned them, didn¡¯t we? That the commies were bad news and they needed to prepare. We just couldn¡¯t predict that they would send this many, this quickly. Now, instead of preparing over the course of years and excising the small cancer they¡¯ve begun to spread from the south over the next year, we¡¯re going to be going into an active war against a much larger force of aerial mages and their backup in the form of regular troops. This? This is going to give us exactly what we need to keep Pedro firmly in the presidency for the next ten years. Plenty of time and all the public sentiment behind us to build up everything we need. We¡¯ll have people lining up to volunteer.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll accelerate our housecleaning and have that finished by the end of the week,¡± Weiss assured me, taking out a notepad and starting to make notes. ¡°The president has already gotten us approval to build the first academy. We can shortcut things a bit by building it here and scanning their regular troops for any mages they already have enlisted. As soon as we have a class of thirty or so, we can begin training while we continue recruiting for more classes and the doctor works on building the equipment to start testing on a larger scale. At the same time, we¡¯ll start taking volunteers for a new unit of regular troops with magical equipment and start training them as well.¡± I nodded along before adding, ¡°That¡¯s good. But Weiss, I¡¯m looking ten, twenty years into the future, to the soldiers of tomorrow.¡± ¡°What do you mean, colonel?¡± I sent him a smile before gesturing to myself and he frowned in response. ¡°I¡¯m living proof that starting training from the earliest age possible is the best method for producing outstanding aerial mages.¡± ¡°You want to use child soldiers, ma¡¯am?¡± he asked as his frown grew. ¡°Well, I wouldn¡¯t call them that,¡± I shook my head. ¡°They¡¯ll be adults by the time we employ them. I want to float the idea of mandatory service for all, but especially for potential mages. Schools for children that teach all the things a normal school teaches, but instead of things like physical education, we have things more akin what we had in boot. A rigid rank structure that they can work their way up through. Training in handling firearms and crew served weapons. When they graduate, they are free to choose to enlist or to go on to a normal, civilian job. For the mage children however, I want to begin training them as mages early on. As early as possible. If we start training them as early as, say, ten years of age, then by the time they graduate at eighteen, they¡¯ve had eight years of training¡ªwhich is far more than I ever received before I was put out onto the front line.¡± Weiss winced. ¡°Colonel, permission to speak freely?¡± ¡°Of course, Weiss,¡± I nodded. ¡°I value your opinion as a trusted subordinate and friend.¡± ¡°Then colonel¡ªno, Tanya,¡± he used my name for what was probably the first time in my presence. ¡°I mean no disrespect, but¡ª how should I put this?¡± Weiss murmured, thinking about it for a moment before he found the words. ¡°You are not normal.¡± I chuckled. ¡°I would think not.¡± He continued, ¡°I have rarely met grown men and women with the sort of drive and determination you have. Most of those are either here with us today, buried back in the Empire, or were on the business end of my rifle before I shot them down. You¡¯re not just exceptional, you are the exception. I don¡¯t believe other children will put up with a tenth of the things you went through voluntarily when you enlisted, just for basic training. I think you¡¯re wasting your time on this and if you manage any measure of success, what you¡¯re going to get won¡¯t be recognizably human. Not the way we understand it.¡± Raising an eyebrow, I asked, ¡°Are you saying I¡¯m inhuman?¡± Weiss¡¯s silent pause was telling as he considered me. ¡°Go ahead, I won¡¯t be angry.¡± Weiss leaned forward in his seat, a serious look on his face as he quietly spoke. ¡°Humans don¡¯t just walk off the sort of blast you lived through. They don¡¯t usually blow themselves up willingly and when they do, they definitely don¡¯t put themselves back together again. But even before that¡­ Tanya, we¡¯ve all seen your service record. Most humans don¡¯t enlist into military service at single digits of age. Most don¡¯t set their computation orb to go critical and blow themselves up to win a firefight with enemy troops, then get back up a few months later and go right back to the front lines. No one has done the things you¡¯ve done before, and at your age.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure someone would eventually¡ª¡± ¡°No, they wouldn¡¯t,¡± he interrupted. ¡°Of all the things you are¡ªthe best aerial mage the world has ever seen, our leader, and I¡¯d like to think my friend¡­ human isn¡¯t one of them. I think you stopped being human a long time ago, if you ever were to begin with. It¡¯s not a bad thing. That¡¯s not what I¡¯m saying. What I am saying is that I think you should lower your expectations a bit.¡± I considered his words before slowly nodding. ¡°Alright. How about this? We¡¯ll ask for volunteers. Frame it as a chance to get normal schooling while learning magic at the same time. Make it fun for them. Slowly offer more advanced, more difficult courses as they get older, that they¡¯ll be able to opt into of course. They¡¯ll still have those years of basic training as a mage at minimum and that much more of an advantage over the enemy.¡± ¡°That sounds much more reasonable,¡± Weiss nodded, leaning back with a quiet sigh. ¡°I¡¯ll start putting something together and ask for volunteers to teach the mage classes.¡± ¡°Good. In the meantime, I need to go speak with Pedro and inform him of this shit show waiting to happen,¡± I grumbled, beginning to collect the documents. Weiss pushed the cube over to me and stood, taking that as a sign that this impromptu meeting was coming to an end. ¡°At least he took our advice seriously and is working out of his home here in Bellum. It would be a security nightmare if we had to split our forces between here and Brasilia. The rest of the government doesn¡¯t like it, but¡­¡± ¡°But they can get over it. The former president was killed in his own home because of a commie infestation and a lack of properly trained and equipped troops. Considering we¡¯ve got enough security on him to protect him against our own forces, I don¡¯t think the Russy are going to be able to get to him, short of doing a flyover and either dropping a bomb or hitting the place with a joint-cast explosive formula.¡± ¡°He told me he¡¯s planning to move the capital here and rebuild everything, to make it official and to make them shut up,¡± he chuckled. ¡°Yes, that sounds about right,¡± I rolled my eyes before sending him a lazy salute, which he returned. ¡°Dismissed.¡± Collecting the folder and cube, I took off for the governor¡¯s mansion. As I flew, my mind wandered back to that conversation. So, they don¡¯t see me as human anymore. Understandable. He may be right about that. Well, as long as they¡¯re willing to work for me and follow my orders, it isn¡¯t a problem.
Fuck it¡¯s hot. Stepping off the boat and onto the dock in San Juan, Agent Samuel Singer pulled his hat down a bit to shade his eyes. The aviator sunglasses helped a bit, but it was still bright as hell. Too bright, too hot, too humid. The air felt like trying to breathe underwater compared to what he was used to back home in Langley, in the northeast United States. But when the Company sends you somewhere, you go. And this, as his superiors put it, was a matter of national security. Reaching into his pants pocket as he shrugged his backpack into a more comfortable position, he checked his notepad and again verified the location for his meeting with their local contact. Tucking it away, he made his way down the wharf and into the city proper¡ªif it could even be called a city. After a bit of walking and stopping to ask for directions three times, he eventually found the hole in the wall bar he was looking for. Miguel¡¯s had only the name for signage out front and a tin, painted sign advertising the local beer beside the door. Making his way inside, he sidled up to the bar and dropped his bag on the ground as he climbed onto a stool. A moment later, a young woman came out of the back and looked him over briefly before asking, in Spanish, ¡°What¡¯ll it be?¡± ¡°Whatever¡¯s on tap,¡± he answered in the same language. ¡°I¡¯m looking for Miguel. Is he in?¡± ¡°I¡¯m Miguel,¡± she sent him an amused look as she took out a mug and drew a pint. ¡°He died last year and left the bar to me. I¡¯m his daughter, Sofia. What do you need?¡± Frowning as she passed him the glass, he made a face as he realized it was warm. The girl laughed, then opened a refrigerator and pulled out a bottled beer, before popping the top on it. Taking back the pint, she handed him the cold bottle and sipped at the pint herself. After a sip to wash the taste out, he offered a hand, ¡°I¡¯m Sam. I¡¯m looking for a guy named Emilio Gaviria. I was told he could get me work.¡± ¡°Not many Americans coming here for work,¡± she murmured, eyeing him critically. ¡°Usually, it¡¯s the other way around.¡± ¡°Not that kind of work,¡± he shook his head. ¡°I work for an investment firm. We¡¯re in the mining business. Scouting out mines for precious metals, jewels, that sort of thing. Gold, silver, diamond, elinium. We invest in the locals, have the local people mine it, buy it up, then resell it back in the states.¡± It even had the benefit of being true. The Company was very interested in at least one thing on that list. If they could buy the rights to any elinium being mined in an area, they would absolutely jump all over that. America needed all that they could get, and if they could get it cheaper outside of America and have it shipped in, that was even better. Mages were the future. There were even some rumors about scientists back home trying to develop magic based technology. Elinium, already more valuable than gold, was set to soar to ever greater heights. A modern computer, with the best, most advanced technology money could buy took up the space of a large room. A very large room, at that. By comparison, an America mage¡¯s computation orb was a physical device no larger than a pocket watch that, with the right formulas, would run circles around that room-sized computer. So of course the government was looking to find a way to bridge the gap between one and the other, and part of that meant securing as much elinium as possible as cheaply as possible. That¡¯s why all of the business forms Sam had to make such deals were real and he had complete discretion to make offers in the field. It wasn¡¯t why he was really here, but a real, legitimate business back in the States that anyone could verify existed and that he worked there made for a hell of a cover. That is, if anyone bothered to go digging. He doubted they would, unless he got into business negotiations. Sighing, she nodded. ¡°Stay here. I¡¯ll go wake him. Uncle is still sleeping it off upstairs.¡± Sam watched as she disappeared upstairs. For a moment, his eyes lingered on her ass in that tight pair of ragged, cut off denim shorts. Reaching down, he twisted the ring on his finger, reminding himself of his cover story. After a few moments of thought, he pulled the band off and pocketed it. It might come in handy later, or he might be able to sell it if he needed some extra funds. Either way, it would make speaking with and endearing himself to the local girls easier if they didn¡¯t think he was married. Whoever thought up that angle obviously didn¡¯t consider the realities of life down here. Eventually, an older man stumbled in and collapsed onto a bar stool next to Sam. Fishing a silver tin out of his pocket, the man exposed a fine white powder. Sam frowned as the newcomer tapped out a line right on the bar and snorted it. ¡°Better than coffee!¡± Offering his tin, the man asked, ¡°Want some?¡± ¡°No, thank you. You¡¯re Mr. Gaviria?¡± ¡°I am. Please, call me Emilio,¡± he nodded, tucking away his tin. ¡°And you¡¯re with that American company? Looking into things in Brasa?¡± ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Sam confirmed. Emilio accepted a bottle from Sofia. ¡°Niece, what day is it?¡± ¡°Wednesday, Uncle,¡± Sofia sighed. Emilio grinned and climbed down off his stool. ¡°Come with me, then. You¡¯re in luck.¡± Sam gathered his bag and followed Emilio back out into the city, then to a hill overlooking a dock¡ªnot the one his ship had put in at. ¡°Where are we going?¡± ¡°Have a look for yourself,¡± Emilio pointed out towards the water. Looking down at the docks, it took Sam only a moment to spot what Emilio meant. There, docked at the far end, beside a group of ships flying the Brasa flag, was a submarine. Not just any submarine, however. A German submarine. Sure, it was flying the flag of Brasa, but according to the information the Company had, the Empire hadn¡¯t begun selling off their war assets yet to pay off the debt they were going to be stuck with. There was no legitimate reason for that boat to be here. ¡°Good eye.¡± ¡°Come,¡± Emilio gestured and started down a path towards the dock. ¡°We¡¯ll talk to one of the ship captains and see if they¡¯ll let you book passage with them.¡± Sam grinned. It would look very good if he didn¡¯t just turn up out of nowhere. Even better if the suspected enemy brought him in themselves. From there, we sail down to Brasa and set up shop. Check out this new president. Try to make a few deals with the local mining companies. All while investigating that newspaper. If it really is her¡­ Well, those trials aren¡¯t finished and Miss Most Wanted War Criminal is the guest of honor. It¡¯d be a shame if she missed it. 17 A Young Girl¡¯s Outer Heaven 17
Commissioned by kyo amamoto.
¡°My job is being paid as a taxi service, but¡­ Why the rush?¡± Edwina asked as she finished pulling on her flight suit. ¡°Time sensitive information. It¡¯ll take another week for Capt. Fischer to get back from their run to America. That¡¯s seven days we could be planning and preparing our surprise welcome for the commies. We estimate they¡¯ll be here in roughly twenty days given their present speed, but that¡¯s why we need to speak with the captain¡ªto verify their potential course, so you can go out and give them our greetings. Twenty days to prepare having their estimated course, or thirteen, at which point we¡¯ll have it anyway from the satellite data.¡± The young woman nodded at the answer. ¡°Makes sense. Why not take the transport?¡± I sent her an amused look. ¡°Firstly, an hour¡¯s ride at a cruising speed of mach two versus five hours. Secondly, it¡¯s just me. Everyone else on my command staff was occupied with other tasks and I¡¯m already up to speed on the intel we have, so it was easier to go myself. Therefor, there¡¯s no need for anything fancy. And finally,¡± I grinned, ¡°you can¡¯t tell me you aren¡¯t looking forward to it.¡± ¡°I do love going fast,¡± Edwina laughed as we made our way to the hangar where the Sturmvogel was stored. It was the matter of a few minutes for her to use a tractor to maneuver it out onto the runway, then we climbed up into the two-seat cockpit. I strapped in and tucked the briefcase I had been carrying into the floor space between our seats. ¡°Hold onto your butt,¡± Edwina warned as I pulled on the space flight headset. A moment later, I was shoved back into the seat as she throttled up and took off. I could say with certainty that sitting in a jet cockpit was an entirely different experience to flying under my own power¡ªand one I did not like, especially as Edwina felt the need to be a little showy as she climbed, doing a few rolls and other maneuvers to ¡®loosen her up¡¯ as she claimed. I hated every second of it. Next time, I¡¯ll fly under my own power!
Yawning, Sam turned the page on his book and reached for his glass of iced tea. The ship wouldn¡¯t depart for another several hours, so he was killing time in the cabin he had rented until then. At least, to anyone who cared to check in on him. The real reason was so that he could spy covertly on the Ingrid as he had come to learn the U-37 U-boat had been rechristened as. Really, training a mage as a front line soldier was such a waste. There were much better uses one could be put to. Oh, sure, Sam didn¡¯t have much experience with the flashier spells in an aerial mage¡¯s repertoire, but he made up for it with sheer utility. Having a naturally low mana signature, while some would call that weak, was actually an advantage in his line of work. It made it so that even other mages had a hard time detecting him. And considering all of his favorite snooping spells were of the low mana usage variety, it gave him a distinct advantage. In this case, he was currently using something like a sniping/recon formula that had been heavily modified by the FBI over the years. They had removed all of the targeting and firing aspects aside from the more useful things, like the range finder. In exchange, they had replaced those things with components to change how the spell worked. At its base, it was still an observation formula, but it had been turned into something new. With it, he could project and adjust his perspective, navigating it around obstacles and into buildings through any window or gap with enough space to push it¡ªand it didn¡¯t take much. At the moment, he was watching and listening to one sexy blonde commander take a shower aboard the Ingrid¡ªand recording it for posterity, of course. She may be a kraut bitch, but the woman was built for sin under that uniform and he appreciated the show. Heh. Cmdr. Fucks alright. Maybe I should see if I can get close to her. Women are much easier to manipulate than men. Seduce her, turn her, get her to betray her friends, then bring her back to the states as a war bride before they send in the troops to round up the rest of them to drag them off to the war crime trials. Yeah, I like that plan. Smirking, he sipped at his tea, then nearly dropped it when something screeched overhead and a loud boom rattled the porthole and the pitcher the rest of his tea was in. Sitting up as the thought crossed his mind that they might be under attack, he pulled back his spell and redirected it, casting his magical gaze outside, up to the sky. The sun glinted off of something moving fast as it circled the port and the modified sniping formula automatically tracked its speed¡ªdecelerating from fourteen hundred miles per hour. It was shiny, glinting with the sheen of bare, brushed aluminum. It¡¯s a plane, he realized, even as part of his mind wanted to deny that it was impossible. No plane that he knew of was that fast, and the Company was aware of everything in development in every major nation of the world. Even the current jets they had developed didn¡¯t go that fast! Then, he zoomed in for a better look and felt his jaw drop. There were no engines. No propellers. No jet turbines. Nothing. It shared a lot in common with a project he knew the Germans had been working on in secret in the final days of the war, their own jet aircraft, but it entirely lacked engines. He couldn¡¯t tell what made it fly. That is, until it passed closer and he picked up two mana signatures. One, his orb immediately flagged as a named mage¡ªspecifically, The Devil of the Rhine herself. The second was new and, looking at the readout, too¡­ regular. Too smooth. Too consistent. It had none of the identifying markings to a mana signature that allowed them to detect an individual mage. Sam gulped as what he was looking at clicked. They did it. Someone finally did it. They got to magic based tech before us. Shit! I need to send a message back! He stood up and made to rush out of the room to find his contact and have Mr. Gaviria send a message back home, when an encoded radio transmission stopped him. His computation orb immediately flagged it as German in origin¡­ then proceeded to apply the encryption key and decipher it for him. Yes, they had cracked the German encryption and had been listening in on their comms for the last months of the war, before it came to its abrupt end. ¡°Ingrid, this is Sturmvogel, come in.¡± Of course, every American mage knew her voice now¡ªSam didn¡¯t need his computation orb monitoring the signal to run the voice comparison to past recordings when his own ears could hear it. He had all the confirmation he needed. She had survived the test, somehow. The Company needed to know. With Schugel taken, possibly by the Russy just as they had taken his assistants, if she was still out there then the Devil of the Rhine was the only one with any possible knowledge of whatever mana-based weapon had wiped out one of their fleets in the Atlantic. The weapon test that had scared every nation into backing the hell off of the Germans and giving them some leverage in the ongoing negotiations. America needed to know what she knew, and they would pry her skull open to get to it if they had to. Then, once she had given up whatever useful information she had, she would be turned over for trial in Nuremberg. Well, show trial. Everyone knew the verdict was decided going in. But the people needed to see justice done. They needed to know that a country would face consequences if they went up against America in the future. This would set the tone for all future dealings with America as a nation¡ªas the world¡¯s first superpower. That America had the strength, and more importantly the right to dictate terms to pretty much everyone else¡ªif not act as an international police force to protect American interests and investments across the world. The brass had decided that Germany was to make a fine sacrifice to set that example, but the bomb had them spooked, so they were scrambling for any handle they could get on the situation to make sure their plans weren¡¯t further derailed. ¡°Sturmvogel, this is the Ingrid. Colonel, is that you?¡± ¡°Roger that, Ingrid. Let the captain and commander know I¡¯ll be landing shortly and coming to pay them a visit.¡± ¡°Understood, colonel. Ingrid out.¡± Sam dropped back onto his bunk as the transmission cut out. Certainly, he needed to get a message back to Langley as soon as possible, but¡­ Ships and even planes only went so fast. Even if he went and had Mr. Gaviria send a message right this moment, it would take days to get back to the US before it could be transmitted to Langley. No, he had a golden opportunity here to both verify the presence of now Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff as they had come to learn her name from the tax filings the Germans didn¡¯t burn and to spy on her and figure out what was so damned important that she came up here herself in some hot rod magical jet. In fact, he might even be able to do a little snooping on the craft in question. Carefully watching the shiny silver plane as it slowed to a stop in midair and touched down vertically on the local dirt runway, Sam recorded everything as the cockpit opened and two people climbed out. The one in the back pulled off her leather flight cap/headset and goggles, revealing blonde hair and intense silver-blue eyes. The second was a native girl a little older¡ªblack hair, brown eyes, and warm brown skin, with a friendly looking disposition. The colonel was young¡ªyounger looking than the information the Company was able to dig up on her said, but Sam put that down to either good genetics or poor conditions growing up followed by hard years of military service. Regardless, little Ms. Degurechaff had a certain kind of cold beauty to her, but it wasn¡¯t like the blonde commander Sam had been eyeballing earlier. He wouldn¡¯t want to cuddle up with her when she filled out. No, the look in her eyes, the way she looked around and took everything in, even the way she walked and moved as she turned and spoke with the pilot¡­ Sam would sooner curl up with a wolf to keep warm. At least with the wolf there was a chance, however slim, that it might not tear his throat out while he slept. I¡¯ve seen some cold customers in my time at the FBI, but this one takes the cake. She looks like what the boys with the psych degrees would call a ¡®hunter type pattern killer.¡¯ Hell, maybe she joined the military because it gave her an excuse to kill people and get paid doing it. It¡¯d explain some things¡­ After only a moment or two, the blonde retrieved a briefcase from the plane and took off towards the docks. As soon as she was gone, Sam zoomed in close and began checking out the plane, even running a few remote scans as safely as he could. Once he was satisfied, he shifted his perspective to follow Col. Degurechaff as she flew into the harbor and landed on the conning tower of the U-boat. She went down the hatch and Sam followed after with his spell, through the ship to a meeting room near the captain¡¯s and XO¡¯s quarters. Waiting inside were Capt. Fischer and the lovely Cmdr. Fuchs. The colonel snapped off a salute, ¡°Captain. Commander.¡± ¡°¡°Colonel,¡±¡± the pair of sailors returned the greeting. ¡°What was so urgent that you felt the need to fly up?¡± the captain asked as they all took their seats around the small table in the center of the room. The colonel set her briefcase on the table and took out some kind of metal cube which she set to the side, before she began taking out papers and passing them across the table. ¡°Yesterday, our satellites picked up two Russy fleets having set sail¡ªone in the Atlantic, the other in the Pacific.¡± Sam moved his point of view to the ceiling and looked at the papers. There, he found printed sheets showing a bird¡¯s eye view of both fleets, their positions on a map, and projected course. As he looked, he wondered just how they¡¯d gotten images that fast, and what she meant by ¡®satellite.¡¯ ¡°That¡¯s not the worst of it, however.¡± Picking up the cube, she did something with it and a hologram sprang to life over the table. Sam¡¯s mouth fell open as a video played out of a ridiculously large force of aerial mages engaging in a training exercise over the water. ¡°By our count, they¡¯ve sent three brigades worth of aerial mages with the ships. Thirty-six hundred mages, all potentially bound for South America¡ªand that¡¯s just the ones on the Atlantic transports. We haven¡¯t spotted any from the Pacific fleet, but I wouldn¡¯t be terribly surprised if there was a second group with them, just as large.¡± Are those the troops we had our people training? They¡¯d have to be. But sending that many? That¡¯s insane! What the hell¡¯s so valuable that they would send that many aerial mages? Sam shook his head as he watched the video play out. Apparently, the captain and commander echoed his thoughts.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. ¡°What insanity has possessed the Russy now?¡± Cmdr. Fuchs asked as the captain shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Whatever it is, it¡¯s bad news for us.¡± Looking to the colonel, he continued, ¡°I take it you brought this to us to refine their estimated course so we can make a strike while they¡¯re still at sea?¡± The little terror smiled and even looking at it through the safety of an observation spell, Sam shivered. ¡°It¡¯s like you¡¯ve read my mind,¡± she murmured. ¡°That¡¯s precisely it. We intend to take out these vessels,¡± she tapped several that were circled on the maps, ¡°to relieve them of their fuel and possibly their food. There isn¡¯t the infrastructure here to support them when they arrive, so they¡¯ll play right into our hands by turning public sentiment against them when they begin raiding to replenish their supplies.¡± The pair of sailors consulted the map projections, before the commander left the room. ¡°Well, first of all, this is all wrong,¡± the captain shook his head. ¡°We only took the course we did because we were trying to avoid patrols.¡± ¡°Some good that did us,¡± the colonel muttered, earning a sigh and a nod from the captain. ¡°Fate had other plans, it seems,¡± the man shrugged. ¡°No, if anything, the Atlantic fleet is going to be hugging the coast for much of the journey. Their last port of call will be in Sierra Leone before making the crossing. I¡¯m not sure about the Pacific fleet, however.¡± ¡°Here, captain,¡± the commander returned and unrolled one of the submarine¡¯s navigational charts. After a bit of back and forth, the pair mapped out the most likely courses the Federation¡¯s Atlantic fleet would take depending on their likely destination, before turning to the other fleet. ¡°What do you think, commander?¡± The blonde hummed, before pulling over the aerial photos again. ¡°There are more civilian cargo ships with this group. I think they intend to make the whole journey in one trip without stops. They will likely pass between Hawaii and the west coast of the US. That would be the best place to strike. They won¡¯t make land in the States because that would raise uncomfortable questions.¡± ¡°At their best speed, they¡¯ll be in the general area in about¡­ Ten days?¡± the captain looked to the commander for confirmation and the blonde nodded. Turning back to the colonel, he asked, ¡°Why are the analysis predicting landfall in Colombia?¡± The colonel shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m not sure. It¡¯s just their best guess.¡± ¡°Tell them to revise their estimate then. The best strategic target in the area is right here,¡± he tapped the map and Sam winced as he realized Capt. Fischer had pointed right to Panama. ¡°If they capture the Panama canal, they¡¯ll have a stranglehold over maritime shipping crossing between the Atlantic and Pacific. The trip around the tip of South America just isn¡¯t worth the cost.¡± The colonel frowned. ¡°That would give the commies entirely too much power.¡± No shit! Sam barely resisted the urge to shout. Fuck, this is bad! So much worse than I thought it¡¯d be. There¡¯s going to be a lot for the boys back in Langley to unpack. We can¡¯t let the commies have Panama. And they need to figure out where the fuck she got those images. Another magical jet maybe? Hell of a range on it, if so. And to do it in a day? That sort of speed is insane. We¡¯ve got nothing that can compete. ¡°The Americans can¡¯t let the commies have Panama,¡± the colonel echoed his thoughts. ¡°Which makes this firmly their problem, not ours,¡± the captain nodded. The colonel held up a hand at that. ¡°Well, I wouldn¡¯t say that,¡± she murmured, a thoughtful look crossing her face. ¡°It would be in our interests to be on America¡¯s good side in the near future. Better an ally than an enemy. And we are a military for hire, after all. But we don¡¯t work for free! So, we¡¯ll leave the Pacific fleet alone. Let them fully infest Panama and the Americans become desperate over losing it, before they come looking for allies to quietly do the bloody work that they don¡¯t want to be seen doing themselves.¡± ¡°That¡¯s up to you, colonel. They don¡¯t start being my problem until they cross over into the gulf and start poking around our trade routes, or trying to infest our ports of call.¡± The younger blonde nodded. ¡°Of course. Any other advice before I go?¡± ¡°If we had more submarines, I would suggest laying a trap and trying to pick off more of their boats. Aside from that, no.¡± The colonel hummed. ¡°We should check in back home soon. At some point, they¡¯re going to likely be forced to sell or scrap much of the fleet. We could get ourselves a real bargain in the process.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll start recruiting and training skeleton crews, captain,¡± the commander offered, and the captain nodded. ¡°At least three, I should think,¡± the colonel agreed. ¡°I¡¯ll speak with Pedro and pitch the idea of offering to buy them. Brasa has a navy but they¡¯re lacking compared to the Empire. He¡¯ll probably jump at the idea of upgrading our navy. It shouldn¡¯t take much training to get a few of them up to speed. We should be able to pull from there for surface ships. Perhaps look into retired sailors to take on as instructors¡­¡± ¡°You mean hiring former Imperial Navy,¡± the captain pointed out and the colonel nodded. ¡°Good idea. The more of our own people we can get out, the better. When it¡¯s time to make the offer, take Fuchs with you. She can make the pitch.¡± ¡°Will do,¡± the colonel agreed, beginning to gather her things back up into her briefcase. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose I could get a cup of coffee for the flight back?¡± The pair of sailors chuckled and the commander left the room, only to return a few moments later with a cup with a lid on it. Sam watched as they said their goodbyes and the colonel departed. He followed her as she flew away from the sub, taking her time sipping at her coffee along the way. He kept watching until the magical airplane took off. Letting out a quiet groan, he took out some paper and began making a detailed coded report, to be sent back to the States, along with his own personal recommendation. He hated to say it, but¡­ the colonel and her people were in a very useful position here. What¡¯s more useful? Making an example out of her, or using her to fight the communists for us in South America? We knew the commies were going to be trouble after the war was over, we just didn¡¯t think they¡¯d start causing problems immediately. And no one thought they¡¯d be stupid enough to go for the Panama canal. She¡¯s already down here with her men and apparently, they¡¯ve become some kind of mercenary company. She was right. It¡¯d look better for the Company to hire her forces and have them handle the problem, because of the way the commies operate. They¡¯re going to go to ground and try to spread out among the local population. It¡¯d take a full on door to door purge to get rid of them. America can¡¯t be seen doing that. But if some foreign mercenary group did it, then we send American troops to ¡®secure the area¡¯ after they¡¯ve done the dirty work and we would be the heroes. Besides¡­ It¡¯s not like there isn¡¯t precedent already for taking in German assets. Just file it under Operation Paperclip and call it a day. With that in mind, he made his recommendation to put her to use for the US¡ªat least for now. There was always the option to use her services in the moment, then later come back and ¡®discover¡¯ a war criminal ¡®in hiding,¡¯ send troops in in the dead of night, black bag her, and drag her back to Geneva for that show trial. It¡¯d be an even bigger deal if people had enough time to start healing from the war, only to suddenly be reminded of it in a decade or two. Also, it¡¯d make the point that they were still looking for hidden war criminals and would continue doing so until they were all either caught or dead. That there would be no peaceful retirement for those monsters. It would send the message that the next people who got it in their heads to fight America and her allies would be persecuted and hunted for the next hundred years.
¡°Why are we dressing up?¡± I grumbled, adjusting the tie on my newly fitted dress uniform. Apparently, this was a new design they had decided to test out with me and not the final product, and had used needing to get all of my clothes replaced as an excuse. ¡°We¡¯re just meeting with Pedro.¡± ¡°Because we¡¯re meeting with the president,¡± Visha rolled her eyes, moving over and gently slapping my hands away from the noose before adjusting it. ¡°Leave it alone.¡± I frowned, adjusting the ridiculous cape and studying myself in the mirror. The new dress uniform was very similar to the one I¡¯d had in the Empire, save that it had a few more decorations¡ªincluding the cape. Although, I mused, turning this way and that before grabbing my cap and pulling it on as well, I take it back. It¡¯s actually rather striking when you take in the whole package. I began tucking my hair up into the hat and Visha again intervened, pulling the cap off and taking the tie out of my hair. She ran a comb through it a few times before settling the cap on my head. ¡°There.¡± ¡°I still don¡¯t see what the big deal is. We¡¯re only going to have dinner and let him know the bad news about the reinforcements,¡± I sent my adjutant an annoyed look, which softened as I took in her form. For some reason, Visha wasn¡¯t wearing her own dress uniform, but a slinky black dress. The only indication that she was anything other than a normal, civilian woman was the computation orb hanging from a chain around her neck, resting gently atop her cleavage. Once again, I was reminded that my adjutant had, at some point between being a terrified, green recruit clinging to me in the trenches or puking her guts out at the realities of the battlefield and now, had turned into a beautiful, mature young woman. She immediately ruined that mature look by sticking her tongue out as she grinned. ¡°That¡¯s a secret~!¡± Letting out a quiet groan, I shook my head. ¡°Fine. Keep your secrets. Are you ready?¡± Visha nodded and took my arm in hers, pulling me against her side as we walked out of our bedroom. I would have been a bit annoyed at the height difference, but I knew I had a few years of growing left and my new body was apparently trying its best to quickly close that gap, so I¡¯d put up with it for a while longer. One day, hopefully soon, I might even be the taller of us if I was lucky. We descended the stairs into the main entry hall, to the sounds of applause, whistles, and catcalls from the gathered men. I rolled my eyes as Visha blushed and giggled. I let them have their fun at our expense. Moments like these were good for morale, even if they were a bit embarrassing. I¡¯d suffered worse for my people, I could put up with a bit of friendly teasing. Besides¡­ I¡¯d make sure to be out on the PT field bright and early to run drills first thing in the morning, for a bit of petty revenge and to save face. I couldn¡¯t let them actually get away with it, but as long as the punishment was light, they¡¯d consider it a net win on their part and be happy. I¡¯d get my revenge, they got their laugh, morale was increased through shared joy and suffering both¡ªeveryone won. To my surprise, a full honor guard stood at attention before the doors, led by Weiss. He snapped off a salute as we approached, which Visha and I returned automatically. ¡°Colonel!¡± ¡°Lt. Col.,¡± I nodded. ¡°What is all of this?¡± Weiss glanced at Visha, who sent him a look that pretty much screamed ¡®shut up!¡¯ I raised an eyebrow as his lips twitched into a smile. ¡°Just a bit of ceremony for the men, ma¡¯am,¡± he lied to my face! What terrifying power Viktoriya wielded, to be able to convince Weiss of all people to betray me with a single look! I didn¡¯t call him out on it. Whatever it was they were hiding, it was obviously harmless and I¡¯d figure it out soon enough. Instead, I gestured towards the doors. ¡°Shall we?¡± ¡°Of course,¡± Weiss nodded, turning and giving a signal to the men at the doors, who held them open for us as the three of us left, the honor guard of eight others falling in behind us. Outside, three vehicles were parked in front of our home. The first and last were our standard transports, but the one in the middle was a very new, very classy, very expensive car that had clearly been imported from Europe at some point when I wasn¡¯t looking. I blinked at the very familiar looking¡ªiconic, or rather infamous¡ªblack, four door, luxury convertible. Just as this world¡¯s countries were sometimes named something different¡ªlike the Russy Federation instead of Russia, or Brasa instead of Brazil¡ªit didn¡¯t exactly have many of the familiar brands my world had. There was no Mercedes-Benz in this world, just as there was no Ford. That didn¡¯t stop anyone from coming up with nearly the same designs. Case in point, the car I was looking at was a W150 variant of the Mercedes-Benz 770 in all but name. Standing beside the rear passenger door was Grantz in his uniform, smiling as he held the door open and gestured for me to get in. ¡°How did you¡­?¡± ¡°After Doktor Schugel modified Edwina¡¯s planes, they wanted to test them on a long flight. The president wanted to pick up a couple of luxury cars for his office, so we killed two birds with one stone,¡± Weiss answered with a shrug. ¡°I see,¡± I murmured. ¡°Colonel,¡± Grantz saluted as I slid into the seat, a quiet, pleased sound escaping my lips at the softness of the leather seats. As soon as I was in, he moved around to the other side to let Visha in as Weiss sat himself in the front passenger seat. Leather seats in this heat though. Ugh. I don¡¯t think someone thought this out. That thought was blown from my mind however as Grantz climbed into the front seat and started the car. It was dead silent as it pulled out and a faint tickle of mana against my senses confirmed my thoughts that it had already been converted to a mana engine. He touched something on the dash and a blast of cold air flooded the interior. ¡°Man, this is great! We really should thank the doc for fixing it up.¡± Is that¡­ air conditioning?! I went wide eyed, leaning forward between the seats as blessedly cold air blew over me. ¡°Ooh~.¡± ¡°It¡¯s nice, isn¡¯t it?¡± Weiss chuckled. ¡°I¡¯ll ask the doctor how he did it and make sure we have cooling installed throughout the base.¡± ¡°Yes, please,¡± I sighed, feeling truly comfortable for the first time since we arrived here as the magical air conditioner cut through the heat and humidity. ¡°I don¡¯t know, it¡¯s a little cold. I guess I¡¯ve gotten used to the heat,¡± Visha murmured, and I glanced over to my ¡®date¡¯ for the evening, only to blink as I saw the problem immediately. Two problems, standing rather prominently to attention in the suddenly cold air. She saw me looking and blushed, reaching up to cover her chest. ¡°Don¡¯t stare!¡± Shaking my head, I leaned back in my seat and enjoyed the ride. It really is a nice car. Just have to avoid the obvious¡­ ¡°Weiss?¡± ¡°Ma¡¯am?¡± ¡°You¡¯re not planning to¡­ decorate it, are you?¡± He nodded. ¡°We¡¯ve been throwing around some ideas. Do you have any preferences?¡± ¡°Not particularly. Have you considered¡­ crosses? The hakenkreuz, perhaps?¡± Weiss shook his head. ¡°No. Would you like us to¡­?¡± ¡°No,¡± I shook my head. ¡°Please don¡¯t.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll let them know.¡± The rest of the ride passed mostly in silence, at least until I realized we weren¡¯t heading to Pedro¡¯s estate and instead were going deeper into the city. Looking to Grantz, I asked, ¡°Where are you taking us?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t answer that,¡± Visha snapped just as Grantz opened his mouth. The man¡¯s mouth snapped shut with a click of teeth. Looking up to meet my eyes in the rear view, he grinned. ¡°Sorry, ma¡¯am. I have my orders.¡± ¡°Insubordination. Mutiny,¡± I grumbled, to giggles from Visha as I glared out the window. Eventually, we arrived at our destination¡ªcity hall. I raised an eyebrow as I spotted regular troops outside wearing the Brasa Army uniform. Grantz parked and came around to open the door for me. I helped Visha slide out of my side a moment later as we were joined by Weiss. Pedro met us at the top of the stairs, in front of a podium that had been set up with several microphones. He was dressed up in his own dress uniform, looking like a rather distinguished older gentleman if I did say so myself. Cameras began flashing as we walked up to the podium and Pedro motioned me over. He began a rehearsed speech and I must have tuned out in my surprise, because the next moment, he was taking off my eagle rank insignia and replacing it with a single star. ¡°Everyone, I present to you the head of Brasa¡¯s newly formed Aerial Mage Forces. Congratulations, General von Degurechaff.¡± 18 A Young Girl¡¯s Outer Heaven 18
Commissioned by kyo amamoto.
Visha looked entirely too pleased with herself beside me. I vowed to get back at her in some petty way in the near future. In the meantime, I refocused my attention on Pedro, who sent me an amused and knowing look. ¡°Don¡¯t be too angry with them,¡± he chuckled as one of the catering staff began bringing in plates. ¡°I asked them to keep it a secret.¡± Letting out an annoyed huff, I turned a look on Visha. ¡°You¡¯ve survived. For now.¡± ¡°Heh~!¡± the blonde laughed as our own plates were dropped off. ¡°Ooh! Steak!¡± My stomach growled at the sight of the slab of beef on my plate and I mostly ignored everything else on it to take up my knife and fork and start cutting a bite sized chunk off. It was like cutting through butter and the interior was a nice medium rare. ¡°This isn¡¯t local grown,¡± I pointed out and Pedro shook his head. ¡°No. My son¡¯s trade with the States is taking off well. He picks up a load of beef to bring back every time he flies up a shipment of fruit. This is Grade A American grown beef. If you¡¯d like, I can let him know you¡¯d like the opportunity to purchase it first. After me, of course,¡± he grinned, and I nodded, too busy savoring the juicy meat to answer verbally. ¡°Unfortunately,¡± Weiss spoke up, drawing Pedro¡¯s attention as he washed his own bite down, ¡°the colonel did come with a purpose in mind for this visit. There¡¯s been a development with the Russy forces.¡± Pedro frowned, sitting up a bit straighter in his seat. ¡°Tell me.¡± I did him one better and showed him, projecting a hologram over the table with all the aerial recon photos, the newly updated course projections, and the video with the mages training. ¡°The Federation have sent reinforcements. Three regular sized battalions of aerial mages, an unknown but presumed large number of regular troops, and a lot of equipment judging by the vessels they¡¯ve sent along.¡± The president sighed, stabbing at the vegetables on his plate with his fork. ¡°More communists. Just what we need. I take it you have a plan?¡± I grinned, nodding. ¡°Of course. It¡¯s simple¡­ We bomb the shit out of them.¡± Pedro laughed. ¡°That is very simple indeed. Do you think you can take them all out?¡± ¡°Probably not,¡± I shook my head. ¡°But we can cripple them. Burn their fuel. Destroy their food stores. They¡¯ll be lacking critical supplies when they land. We know they don¡¯t have the supply lines set up to handle that many new troops. We can press our advantage while they¡¯re hungry and weak and do some real damage.¡± Nodding, Pedro considered his plate for a moment before looking up at me. ¡°You now hold a bit of a unique position. You are both officially a part of the Brasa government and the head of your own private military group, effectively acting as our aerial mage corps until such a time as you can build one up for us. You also have the good Doktor Schugel providing you with wonder weapons. I¡¯ve seen some of the things that have come out of that man¡¯s mind¡­¡± He shook his head. ¡°Requisition whatever supplies, materials, and so forth you think you¡¯ll need using your office. I¡¯ll rubber stamp it. I trust you not to take advantage of your position.¡± I made a face at that. ¡°Yes, it¡¯s a bit of a conflict of interests. Please, have a third party go over everything so that there is never a question of whether or not things are above board. I won¡¯t disappoint you.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s necessary¡ª¡± ¡°It is,¡± I denied immediately. ¡°People will ask questions. They¡¯ll claim favoritism and cronyism. We have to be able to prove, beyond a doubt, every step of the way, that everything I did in this position was above board and never once crossed the line into questionable territory.¡± Sighing, Pedro smiled as he shook his head. ¡°Very well.¡± ¡°Good. Now, there was another thing I wanted to bring up. It¡¯s not exactly my department, but I¡¯m not blind. The¡ªour,¡± I corrected myself, mindful of my new position within the country¡¯s government and military structure, ¡°navy is lacking compared to others. Well behind in terms of technology, numbers, weapons¡ªbasically in every respect. We¡¯re not cruising around using sail power, but compared to the Americans, Commonwealth, Empire, or even the Russy we might as well be. We need to seriously increase the size and strength of our navy.¡± ¡°I understand,¡± Pedro murmured, ¡°unfortunately, the reality is, we lack the production capacity to make more than we are at the moment. I¡¯ve seen all of the various proposed plans for improvements and while I agree that they need to be done, we can¡¯t create infrastructure, and improve power generation, and lay communication lines, and build up our army, and build up the navy all at once. Never mind the money, the physical resources just aren¡¯t there.¡± ¡°Doktor Schugel is already working on something for that,¡± Weiss spoke up, drawing Pedro¡¯s attention. ¡°Last I checked, he was tearing apart a tank and working on some kind of drilling device. Our resource problem might not be a problem for much longer.¡± Pedro hummed, considering it for a moment. ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll look forward to seeing what else the good doktor brings us in the near future.¡± Turning to me, he added, ¡°We should work out payment for his services. I don¡¯t want to poach him from you, but he is doing quite the service for our country. As you know, I like to reward meritorious service.¡± ¡°Later,¡± I agreed. ¡°But about the boats. We don¡¯t need resources to improve what we have now, just money. You see, if they haven¡¯t begun already, then very soon the Empire will begin selling off her assets. They have a perfectly good navy we could purchase and bring home. From there, well¡­ I haven¡¯t told him yet, but once I do, Herr Doktor Schugel will likely salivate at the chance to play with boats.¡± Having our own aircraft carriers for magical aircraft like the Sturmvogel would be very handy in the near future. We had already seen how well the Imperial navy had done against the Russy Federation¡¯s own navy, so having those boats handy to defend our shores from future Russy vessels would be a good stopgap until we could start developing and building our own fleet on par with the Americans. ¡°By all means, send a representative to purchase a few to replace our aging fleet.¡± He grinned and added, ¡°Make sure to pick up something for yourself while you¡¯re there.¡± And this was why I loved working with Pedro. We understood each other. I smiled, nodding. ¡°I already have someone picked out to send. We¡¯ll need crew, of course.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll speak with the admiral in charge of everything and let him know he¡¯s getting some upgrades. He can work with his people to supply the men we need. Now, do you have a plan for the proposed first aerial mage academy?¡± ¡°I do,¡± I confirmed, dismissing the current hologram and producing a new one for a building that the engineering corps had designed to my specifications. ¡°Three hundred and thirty miles to our southwest is a small mountain range. The only thing of note there are a few neighboring villages and an old, abandoned mine. We¡¯ll be building a facility directly into the mountainside and using the surrounding terrain as training grounds for aerial, mountain, jungle, and urban combat training after constructing a mock urban environment. ¡°Other training for different environments will be conducted at different locations,¡± I projected a new hologram of several locations around the state of Para. ¡°From open fields, to trench warfare, marine operations, and training for other issues. We¡¯ll need to leave Brasa for cold weather and high elevation training, but we have the transports to make the trip south.¡± ¡°How soon will you be able to train our first generation of aerial mages?¡± I hummed at that. ¡°That depends on them. The typical Imperial aerial mage basic training course was a one year program, with more training done on the job as it were. We can cut a lot of the dross out, but they¡¯ll still benefit from the experience of at least a year long course, preferably longer. That is assuming they make the cut and then are willing to put in the effort. Again, that part is up to them.¡± Pedro nodded at that before asking, ¡°Lt. Col. Weiss tells me you would like to build a school for children?¡± I resisted the urge to glare at my second in command. I was saving that one for when we were more established and had proved the bona fides of our training methods with the first batch of adult recruits! Instead, I could do nothing but push forward now that the idea was out there. ¡°That¡¯s right. In addition to normal schooling, it would also provide training for those children with the potential to become aerial mages. That way, we have every future generation of mages trained in the use of their magic from a young age, with years of experience using it. If they then volunteer for service, or if we institute some kind of mandatory service period, then they¡¯ll have that much of an edge over other mages.¡± Considering it for a few moments as he leaned back and sipped his glass of red wine, eventually Pedro asked, ¡°This is not something they did in the empire?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not,¡± I confirmed. ¡°But just because we¡¯re taking the best of what we¡¯ve learned from our old home doesn¡¯t mean we can¡¯t improve on those things. That we can¡¯t innovate and find our own way forward, here and now.¡± Pedro chuckled and shook his head. ¡°I underestimated your vision for our nation¡¯s future, it seems. Very well. I¡¯ll speak with some people and see about having a boarding school constructed here in Bellum to test this theory. That way, we can recruit students from all over the country. What age range are you aiming for?¡± ¡°Preferably as young as six to as old as graduation age. I understand that¡¯s fourteen here. I propose we raise it and add an additional three years of schooling, to bring us up to par with the Americans. If we recruit those in their final year, we can focus more heavily on mage training for the next three years.¡± ¡°Whatever you believe is best.¡± ¡°Standardized, mandatory, publicly funded schooling everywhere and the resources to make that happen,¡± I answered immediately. ¡°The commies had one thing right. Get them early and they¡¯re yours. In this case, we¡¯ll use it for good, to build up the foundations for a nation of smart, hardworking patriots all invested in making their country great.¡± Pausing, I shook my head and smiled. ¡°No, not great, but the greatest. We are some ways behind the Commonwealth or America when it comes to development, but we have them beat in magic technology. We¡¯ll focus on advancing that area and bringing everything else up to par with our contemporaries. Hopefully, by the time they graduate, they¡¯ll be ready to step up and begin helping us advance. Until one day, we surpass everyone.¡± Pedro stared at me for several moments, assessing. Finally, he said, ¡°You believe it¡¯s doable.¡± ¡°Absolutely,¡± I nodded. ¡°As long as we play our cards right.¡± The rest of dinner devolved into an impromptu planning session and Pedro outlining his own goals for what he wanted me to do with my new rank and post¡ªwhich effectively boiled down to keep doing what I¡¯d been doing, but with greater scope.
The days passed quickly and all too soon, we were seeing Edwina and our second pilot off as they took off with a load of bombs. I busied myself in my office, taking care of some paperwork. Some of it was for MSF while most of it was for the government¡ªrequisition forms that I myself had to fill out for materials, manpower, compensation, and so forth. Most of the MSF stuff was just signing off on a bunch of promotions and pay increases. After my promotion to general within the Brasa military by the president, we agreed that a round of promotions was warranted within MSF to match. My own rank within the company was raised and I officially retired, while still claiming ownership of the company. Capt. Fischer was elevated to the rank of admiral, given that he would soon be working closely with the Brasa navy. Cmdr. Fuchs was promoted to captain and given command of the Ingrid and the pair of them worked to prepare for MSF¡¯s navy¡¯s expansion. Lt. Col. Weiss was promoted to full colonel and put in charge of MSF in my place, since I would be spending a lot of time working with the government very soon and we needed the layer of separation so it didn¡¯t seem as though his orders were coming directly from the government¡ªwhile in reality, I would absolutely still be passing along orders. Grantz was promoted to captain and set to take Viktoriya¡¯s place in charge of the 203rd. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. As for Visha¡­ I had some discussions with Weiss, Adm. Fischer, and Pedro about that. She was invaluable in her role as my adjutant but I needed her to be my proxy for a lot of things, since I couldn¡¯t be everywhere at once. I needed to be able to give her orders and have her pass them along, and have people understand they came directly from me¡ªboth within MSF and within the Brasa government. Everyone within MSF already understood this, of course¡ªit was mostly for the benefit of the Brasa government. That was why Visha got a promotion to major and her only duties were those I assigned her directly. On paper, the only person within the Brasa military capable of giving her orders was myself. I had effectively removed her from the chain of command while still keeping her as part of it. Aside from myself, Visha was the only other member of MSF with an official rank within the Brasa command structure and that¡¯s how it would stay, to keep us separated from the government and give Brasa plausible deniability for anything MSF did. Sure, it was a paper thin separation, but even that much mattered. The other promotions, I would leave to Weiss to handle as he saw fit. That was his job now, after all. As for the government paperwork, well¡­ Schools and things didn¡¯t build themselves. Also, since they were government buildings I could use the Brasa Army Corps of Engineers to build them, or just hire contractors directly¡ªin this case, a newly formed construction company made up of German immigrants as the backbone with a lot of local labor and a few retired mages who had acquired new computation orbs to act as both security and using spells for some things that a formula would be faster at than using a piece of equipment. That¡¯s right! This wasn¡¯t America or Japan! We didn¡¯t have to do silly things like put up bids for contractors, or pretend to encourage competition. We could directly hire the best people for the job or just use our own people for it. For this particular job, the army engineers would be building and/or improving roads and bridges between us and the mountains to move our heavy equipment up safely, while the contractors would do all of the work on site. No dragging of feet, no sitting on their asses for months, just a group of people who knew what they were doing getting the job done. Glancing at my desk clock, I looked up just as someone knocked on the door then entered. ¡°General von Degurechaff,¡± Maximilian Ugar smiled as he snapped off a salute. ¡°Colonel von Ugar,¡± I returned it with a grin of my own. ¡°Please, sit,¡± I gestured to the chairs in front of my desk. ¡°Viktoriya told me you had something for me?¡± he asked, crossing one leg over the other and resting his hands in his lap. I nodded as my blonde adjutant came in bearing a tray with coffee and snacks. Visha began serving as I started to lay things out for Ugar, before taking her own seat. ¡°Yes. We¡¯ve got the go ahead. The orders will be typed up and in your office later today, but I¡¯ll go ahead and give you the short version now. We need you to start surveying and prepare to lay rail, telephone, and power lines. You have full access to our satellite feed for whatever you need to see it done. At the moment the Army Corps of Engineers are working on building some roads for us, but as soon as they¡¯re done with that, consider them yours to use as you see fit.¡± ¡°That¡¯s good news. I was a bit bored, just sitting around at my desk. What sort of time frame are we dealing with? Budget constraints?¡± I grinned sardonically. ¡°Oh, you know how it goes. We want it done before we asked for it and we want it to make money,¡± I rolled my eyes. ¡°Just do your best, Max. I trust you¡¯ll deliver what we need within a reasonable time. You¡¯ll be cutting through jungle and going up and down hills most likely, so delays are to be expected. This is why I want everything surveyed thoroughly before we put the first shovel in the dirt. We want to get it right the first time. I know it¡¯s going to take years to build up, but it¡¯ll be worth it in the end. This project will likely outlast nearly everyone who has signed off on it, if we¡¯re being honest.¡± ¡°What¡¯s my authority here? And am I approved to bring in civilian contractors?¡± Max asked after taking a sip of his coffee and thinking it over for a moment. ¡°You¡¯ll have full authority over the engineers and you¡¯re free to hire whatever contractors or extra labor you feel you need, for as long as you need. They know you¡¯re not in their chain of command, but they will follow your orders as though they come from me. MSF is acting as an independent, third party contractor in this ourselves, for the planning and management of the project.¡± ¡°And my actual limit on funds?¡± I made a face at that question. ¡°Officially, try to limit spending as much as possible and attempt to cut corners where it¡¯s safe to do so. Unofficially, use what you need and I¡¯ll back your decision. Just try not to go wild, eh?¡± Max chuckled. ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± ¡°Good, good,¡± I leaned back in my chair and picked up a cookie from the tray. ¡°Now that business is out of the way, how is the family?¡± ¡°They¡¯re well, thank you for asking,¡± Max took a moment to refill his cup before he relaxed back into his own seat. ¡°The wife is expecting again.¡± Visha beamed a happy smile at that. ¡°Congratulations!¡± ¡°Congratulations,¡± I echoed, a smile pulling at my lips. ¡°Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?¡± ¡°I think we¡¯d like one of each. Someone to carry on the family name would be nice, of course,¡± he nodded. ¡°But I would be just as pleased with another daughter to spoil.¡± ¡°You say that now, Max. Give it a few more years for the first one,¡± I murmured, sipping at my cup. ¡°Foreign land. Foreign people. Lots of beaches. Plenty of excuses to go around in shorts and very light or little clothing¡­¡± Max got a constipated look on his face and the hand holding his coffee shook. Visha giggled. ¡°Ma¡¯am, stop teasing him! You¡¯ll have him making a gun collection to show any potential boyfriends at this rate!¡± ¡°That sounds like a good investment,¡± Max muttered. He looked up and met my eyes, before blinking as a look of realization passed over his face. ¡°I suppose you¡¯re at that age yourself now, Tanya. I sometimes forget¡­¡± ¡°Hm?¡± I hummed in confusion. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Max looked a bit confused himself now. ¡°Just that you¡¯re of that age where girls and boys start noticing each other.¡± ¡°Yes, I suppose I¡ª¡± I paused as what he was implying clicked and made a face. Visha covered her face, hiding a smile as her shoulders shook. ¡°No. I,¡± I cleared my throat. ¡°While I can appreciate the aesthetic of the male form, it¡¯s not to my taste. I prefer¡­¡± ¡°Ah,¡± Max nodded, a smile on his face as he glanced at Viktoriya for some reason. It took me only a moment to remember our living situation and realize that perhaps I had just opened a can of worms I would have been better off leaving closed. I would need to speak with her after this. ¡°I believe you¡¯ve just tanked half the betting pool.¡± ¡°Excuse me? The what?!¡± Visha whistled as she stood up and began refilling our cups, busying herself and doing everything she could to avoid looking me in the eyes. Max, on the other hand, seemed to realize his blunder and winced. ¡°Well, that is, you see¡­ There may have been some friendly wagers over when you would finally settle down and with whom.¡± ¡°Is. That. So,¡± I growled quietly. ¡°My romantic and sexual life are the subject of company scuttlebutt, are they?¡± ¡°Ma¡¯am,¡± Visha quietly murmured. I looked up and met her eyes, only for her to look down at my hand. I followed her gaze down¡ªspecifically my coffee cup, where the liquid within had begun to boil. Taking a deep breath, I let it out in a whoosh and reigned in my mana. I put the cup down and looked over to see Max had paled. ¡°I apologize. I lost my temper,¡± I bowed my head briefly. ¡°It shouldn¡¯t be as annoying as it is, but¡­ I¡¯ve worked hard since joining the military to craft an image for myself.¡± Gesturing down at myself, I continued, ¡°For the longest time, I looked like a child. I still look younger than any of the officers, even if I¡¯m growing quickly now. Something like this reminds people of my age¡ª¡± ¡°It¡¯s a good thing,¡± Visha cut in, and I shot her a questioning look. ¡°It makes you more¡­ approachable, outside of the office.¡± I looked to Max, who nodded. ¡°It¡¯s humanizing. People talk about these sorts of things and are reminded that you¡¯re more than just a magic officer. More than just the rank.¡± I was abruptly reminded of a conversation I¡¯d had with Weiss, not too long ago. My second most trusted subordinate saw me as something inhuman and implied that many of the company likewise thought of me as something different. Not necessarily something bad, but something different. And while some, like Weiss, obviously looked past it and took it well, others might not. Perhaps¡­ like the pomp and circumstance surrounding my promotion, I should let them have this. For morale. To, as Max said, allow them to better humanize me. I don¡¯t want to completely alienate myself from them, after all. That way lies losing their trust. ¡°Fine,¡± I let the word out in a sigh, slumping a bit in my seat and picking up my coffee. It was a bit too hot still but I sipped it anyway¡ªit¡¯s not like it could truly damage me anyway. Putting on a look of chagrin, I asked, ¡°Who¡¯s the favorite to win?¡± ¡°It¡¯s¡ª¡± ¡°Oh no, look at the time!¡± Visha blurted. ¡°Max, aren¡¯t you late for your next appointment?!¡± Max pulled out his pocket watch and checked it as a devilish smile pulled at his lips, all the while Visha fretted as a blush crept up her neck and cheeks for some reason. Looking up from the watch, he met her eyes and winked. A quiet, pained squeak escaped my adjutant¡¯s lips. ¡°Yes, I suppose you¡¯re right, Viktoriya. I should be getting on so I can start working on that project.¡± Turning to me, he said, ¡°The wife asked me to invite you over for dinner one night soon. She¡¯s making rinderrouladen Friday night. Why don¡¯t you bring Viktoriya and we¡¯ll break out a bottle of wine?¡± ¡°That sounds good,¡± I agreed. I looked to Visha and added, ¡°You¡¯re free?¡± ¡°Of course!¡± she chirped, a happy smile coming to her face. With that, we said our goodbyes and Max left my office. Visha spent a few moments tidying up as I thought and, just as she was preparing to leave, I asked, ¡°Please stay a moment?¡± ¡°Sure! What do you need me to do, ma¡¯am?¡± Sighing, I reached up and unpinned my stars from my shoulders. Opening my desk drawer, I put them inside and closed it. Visha blinked at that, then blinked again as I stood and pushed my desk chair in. Grabbing my cup, I moved over to the small couch under the closed window¡ªa window that would normally have been open, save that some absolute saint had installed Schugel¡¯s magical air conditioning the day before and now I could set it to a temperature more appropriate for hanging meat than smoking it. I was going to track down whatever go-getter had done it and make sure they got a raise. Sitting down, I patted the couch beside me and waited, leaving the invitation open. Visha looked away and took a moment to refill her cup then grab a couple of chocolate covered cookies, before joining me. I took one of the cookies she offered and rested it on my pants leg. Looking into my cup for a moment as I considered my words, eventually I took a breath and forced myself to meet Visha¡¯s eyes. ¡°In his well-meaning worry over me as a friend, it seems Max has brought up an uncomfortable subject,¡± I began. Viktoriya arched an eyebrow curiously and sipped at her drink, waiting for me to get to the point as she knew I had a habit of sometimes temporizing to buy myself time to think. Finally, I bit the bullet and spit it out. ¡°We should start sleeping in separate quarters.¡± Viktoriya blinked, then frowned. It said something that she didn¡¯t bother hiding her own annoyance at my words. Then again, I had removed the burden of rank and for the moment, she wasn¡¯t addressing a superior officer, but a friend. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°I¡¯m getting to the age where it becomes a bit awkward and questionable¡ªsexually, morally, and ethically.¡± Narrowing her eyes, Viktoriya asked, ¡°Why don¡¯t you lay each one out and let¡¯s go over them?¡± ¡°Fine,¡± I nodded, willing to give her that much at the very least. ¡°I¡¯m sure you don¡¯t want to be stuck in bed with a horny teenager hopped up on hormones from puberty. I¡¯m sure both of us would enjoy some privacy for, ah, self-care as it were.¡± The older blonde rolled her eyes and slurped her coffee. The sheer sass in that expression! If she had looked at me like that while I was wearing my insignia, I¡¯d have her doing PT until I got bored! I kind of like it though. It¡¯s a side of her I don¡¯t get to see often, I mused. ¡°That doesn¡¯t bother me. Just don¡¯t wake me up. Besides, it¡¯s not like you notice when I do it,¡± she shrugged. ¡°You never have before.¡± ¡°You¡ª¡± I paused, before carefully retracting my foot from that verbal land mine before I set it off. No. I don¡¯t want to know. Seeing as the ball was back in my court, I shook my head and brought up my next point. ¡°You and I both know we¡¯re going to get looks the longer it goes on, both being unattached ladies. People are going to make assumptions. Even in the empire, both same sex couples and sex before marriage were frowned upon. It could hurt your reputation.¡± She nodded at that, before asking, ¡°Do you care how it affects your reputation?¡± ¡°No. My results speak for themselves. I have the benefit of political power that you lack, however. If you intend to advance up the ranks, it would be best not to ruffle the feathers of those above you.¡± ¡°The only opinions that matter to me are yours, Matheus¡¯s, and Pedro¡¯s. Those two are the only ones that matter for advancing my career.¡± I mouthed the name for a moment before remembering that it was Weiss¡¯s first name. Shaking my head, I asked, ¡°You aren¡¯t concerned about allegations of cronyism?¡± Viktoriya smiled and shook her head. ¡°Nope~!¡± ¡°That brings me to my next point. There are reasons that it¡¯s against regulations for superior officers to have relationships with their subordinates. We may not have such a relationship, but such allegations will eventually emerge.¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t change my answer. I don¡¯t care what others think and the only ones whose opinions affect my career are Pedro and Matheus.¡± I sighed, taking a sip of my coffee. ¡°That one is more on me. And it¡¯s not the allegations I¡¯m worried about, it¡¯s that I don¡¯t want to presume, or come off as though I¡¯m pressuring you.¡± ¡°I¡¯m a grown woman, Tanya. I can make my own decisions. I¡¯m not worried about you pressuring me into anything. I trust you,¡± she reached out and laid a hand on my knee¡­ before stealing the cookie I¡¯d left there and biting into it with a cheeky grin. Rolling my eyes, I went for one last attempt at changing her mind. ¡°Yes, you are a grown woman. And I¡¯m not.¡± At least, not physically. ¡°You¡¯re twenty-one and I¡¯m,¡± almost forty, between both lives, ¡°only fourteen. You¡¯re not worried that people will accuse you of taking advantage?¡± At that, a smile I had never seen before pulled my adjutant¡¯s lips upwards, and for some reason¡­ I suddenly felt cornered here on this couch. ¡°One year, seven months, fourteen days,¡± she briefly consulted her computation orb, ¡°three hours, thirty-seven minutes, and¡­ ten seconds. Nine, eight,¡± she stopped counting and dropped her computation orb, where it fell back into place above her breasts. I may have been born at night, but I wasn¡¯t born last night. For some reason she had the exact time down to the second not just for my sixteenth birthday, but the second the clock would hit five P.M. local time and we would go off duty. It occurred to me that in the Empire, that would have been the day I came into my legal majority. Of age, that is. The day I¡¯d have been allowed to enter the officers¡¯ bierhaus. Or when the age gap I mentioned would cease to be relevant. There was also the little fact that Viktoriya didn¡¯t want me to know who the favorite to win the betting pool over who I¡¯d end up with was, and hadn¡¯t exactly been subtle about shooing Max away before he could spill the beans. Viktoriya sat back down across from me and crossed her legs¡ªthat tight little skirt taut on her thighs as it struggled to keep her modesty from this angle. I tore my wandering eyes away just in time to meet hers. Her eyes twinkled, watching me¡­ She caught me looking. She calmly sipped her coffee with an amused little smile. Maybe even a little triumphant. I couldn¡¯t help but wonder¡­ Am I in danger? 19 A Young Girl¡¯s Outer Heaven 19
Commissioned by kyo amamoto.
Tatiana rose with the sun as the air coming in through the porthole warmed and the noises of people moving about could be faintly heard through the metal walls of the ship. Seeing that she was thankfully alone, she hurried into the cabin¡¯s small but private washroom. Hot showers on a ship were a luxury and she didn¡¯t want to waste the opportunity. That, and she liked feeling clean. Ever since meeting her new ¡®papa,¡¯ she rarely ever felt truly clean. In fact, the first few times he had visited her, she had nearly scrubbed her pale skin bloody trying to get the disgusting feeling to go away. Nothing truly made it go away, however. Especially after¡ª Tatiana shook her head, forcing herself not to think about it. She was getting better at that. She was getting a lot of practice, between trying not to think about her last moments with her real parents, and the things her new ¡®papa¡¯ wanted her to do with and to him. She finished up her morning ablutions and shower and dried off. Then, she stood in front of the bathroom mirror naked. Looking herself over, she took out her brush and began taking care of her long, blonde hair. Taking note of the hand shaped bruising on her hips and bite marks on her chest, she frowned, thankful that it at least wasn¡¯t visible with her clothes on¡ªbut it also meant she shouldn¡¯t wear the light sun dress she liked, because it wouldn¡¯t hide them. It¡¯s not as though I¡¯ll be allowed to leave the cabin anyway, she sighed quietly, pulling her hair back into a tail as she left the washroom and made her way to the steamer trunk full of clothes her new ¡®papa¡¯ insisted she have. Several of them were things that her family had never been able to afford, but she didn¡¯t feel good at all about who they came from or how he looked at her when she wore some of them. Case in point, she moved the carefully folded and pressed Imperial uniform in her size off to the side as she looked for a dress that would be thick enough not to show her bruising. ¡®Papa¡¯ always acted strange when he made her wear the uniform¡ªas though he were of two minds about it. On the one hand, he always wanted to punish her extra hard when she wore it. On the other, sometimes he had her punish him. It was strange and she hated it. Pushing the thoughts aside, she found a dress and set it aside, closing the trunk and getting dressed. Then, she sighed as she cast about the cabin for something to do with the rest of her day, assuming ¡®papa¡¯ didn¡¯t come by for a visit. She really hoped he didn¡¯t. There were a few books in a trunk with things meant to entertain her, but she had read them all and they weren¡¯t anything good. None of them were the sorts of stories she liked. They were all boring and talked about things like political systems and inequality and how the workers should seize the means of production. They read like the bible, but the god they spoke of was called ¡®the State.¡¯ When she had asked for proper German story books, ¡®papa¡¯ had laughed and told her no¡ªthat filling her head full of imperialist fantasies and lies was a waste of time and she should study the good works of the revolutionary Russy state instead. Dismissing the books, she instead took up a notebook and pencil. Moving a chair over to the window, she looked out over the water and hummed quietly as she began to draw what she saw. She hadn¡¯t been very good at it at first, as the early attempts showed, but she¡¯d had a lot of time to practice. Pencil moved over paper and she began, occasionally glancing between the paper and the porthole. Outside, she could see a few other ships from the window. Occasionally, she caught a glimpse of one of the birds that nested on the ships moving overhead and for a while, one even flew alongside the window, seemingly near enough that she could reach out and touch it. She quickly committed the sight to memory and added it to the drawing, taking extra care with the shading of its dark edged wings and around its eyes. Eventually, there came a knock at the door and she put the notepad down. Hurrying to the door, she opened it to find one of the ship¡¯s stewards standing outside carrying a tray. He was an older gentleman, with gray hair and a mustache that reminded her of her grandfather. His eyes briefly swept over her and he hid a wince. ¡°Good day, miss Tatiana,¡± he greeted, in Russy accented German. ¡°Good day, mister Borodin. Please, come in,¡± she stepped aside and he nodded, moving into the room and placing the tray down on the small table in the corner. ¡°I¡¯m afraid that today¡¯s lunch is just borscht, a bread loaf, and a pot of tea,¡± the man apologized, and Tatiana waved the apology off. ¡°It¡¯s fine! I¡¯m not picky!¡± she smiled as he collected the tray and dishes from the previous night. ¡°That¡¯s good. I¡¯m afraid the galley chef only really knows how to make a few things,¡± he chuckled. Moving back to the door, he paused, before quietly asking, ¡°Can I get you anything?¡± Tatiana smiled and shook her head. ¡°Thank you, but I wouldn¡¯t want you to get into trouble because of me. He¡¯s, he has a temper,¡± she trailed off and the steward nodded. ¡°Have a good day, Mr. Borodin.¡± ¡°You as well, miss Tatiana. With any luck, he should be in meetings for most of the day, discussing strategy. Hopefully, you won¡¯t be disturbed.¡± ¡°I hope so too,¡± she murmured as he left, closing and locking the door behind him. Taking the small loaf of bread, she opened her trunk containing all of the books she disliked and moved the ones in the corner aside, revealing a little hidden space she had made by rearranging them. Inside were several identical loaves of hard bread. She added the newest one and took out the oldest, tearing it in half before putting half back and rearranging the books to close up her hiding place. Tatiana sat at the table and began eating, making a face at the beet soup as she forced herself to eat it. Just because she wasn¡¯t picky didn¡¯t mean she didn¡¯t have preferences, and if by some miracle she somehow escaped, she would never eat another beet again for as long as she lived. The Russy loved them, especially her ¡®papa.¡¯ He went on and on about how the simple beet would show the whole world the benefits of communism, just by growing together communally right beside other plants. Tatiana¡¯s father had been a farmer from a family of farmers¡ªfrom the time of her grandfather¡¯s, grandfather¡¯s, grandfather. She herself had helped plant the field for the last three years. She knew that plants needed space and the things ¡®papa¡¯ was saying didn¡¯t make sense, and would actually cause the plants to strangle each other to death, in her father¡¯s words. If you planted them too close, you didn¡¯t get any vegetables to put on the table, and you either didn¡¯t have anything to sell or you went hungry. She¡¯d made the mistake of telling ¡®papa¡¯ that only once. It was the first and only time he put any kind of a bruise above her neckline. After that, she stopped speaking about her old family and she never wanted to see another beet again. Unless he explicitly told her to act otherwise, she just smiled and nodded along to whatever he was saying, paying attention and parroting it back¡ªhe liked it when she did that. It put him in a good mood, and ¡®papa¡¯ in a good mood meant he was gentler. Sometimes, when he was in the best mood, he only made her wear different outfits, move around the room, and say things. If that meant she had to repeat the things he liked to hear, even if they didn¡¯t make sense to her, then so be it. I¡¯m not like those other girls, who didn¡¯t make it. The ones he got bored with, or who cried too much. The ones who were impatient and tried to run away, but got caught. The stupid ones who couldn¡¯t figure out what he liked. I¡¯m going to survive. I¡¯m going to live. And one day¡­ Finishing her soup, bread, and tea Tatiana returned to the window. She was nearly finished with her drawing when she spotted something new. Something high, high in the sky caught the sun and drew her eyes. Squinting, she could just make out a trio of shapes moving closer quickly. ¡°Planes,¡± she murmured, wondering where they were coming from. She had actually seen a map, her ¡®papa¡¯ liked to brag about his big, smart plan to take over a new land for the motherland and capture her¡ªnot her, but the girl she looked like. The girl she had watched videos and recordings of, that one of the mages had shown her repeatedly at her ¡®papa¡¯s¡¯ direction, so she could get the other girl¡¯s words, tone, and expression just right¡ªbecause her ¡®papa¡¯ was really interested in that girl and as long as Tatiana pretended to be her, then he didn¡¯t get bored. We¡¯re in the middle of the ocean, between Africa and South America. They¡¯re coming from the north west it looks like. But why? Curious, but not bothered, she began adding them to her drawing as they drew near. That is, until everything changed, between one moment and the next. As Tatiana watched, out the window one of the big tanker ships was engulfed in a blinding flash of light. There was a boom that she felt in her bones, and then all that was left of the ship was a flaming wreck. Standing, she dropped the notepad and pencil, her eyes straining to see. She caught movement, spotted something falling from above. Another flash, and another, and more seemingly from all sides as the ship she was on was rocked with every blast. She could feel the heat of the flames from the window. Smell the smoke. Hear the screams of injured or dying Russy sailors. For some reason, her face hurt. Reaching up, she felt her face and found it was wet¡ªand it hurt because she was smiling. Smiling and crying. It took her a moment to realize why, but by that time she was already moving to the bed, undoing the buttons on her dress and pulling it off over her head. Tossing the dress carelessly onto the bed, she looked at the folded uniform for a moment before she began pulling it on. Her mind caught up to her body as it began to reason out what her body already knew. This was a huge blow to her ¡®papa.¡¯ She hoped he was dead, that he had been on one of those ships that had been attacked by enemy bombers, but she wasn¡¯t stupid. It was better to hope for the best and prepare for the worst. And the worst would be her ¡®papa¡¯ throwing a tantrum like a child, as he sometimes did. He would be so angry at this and Tatiana was his preferred method for taking out that anger. So, she had to flip it around. She had to attack instead. I need to be her. I, I have to take responsibility. Claim it was ¡®me.¡¯ Laugh and taunt him. Humiliate him. Because if I don¡¯t¡­ Briefly, her mind turned back to the last time he had been upset. She hadn¡¯t been able to sit or lie on her back for a week after he¡¯d finished using his belt on her. Finished dressing, she checked the bathroom mirror to make sure the uniform was straight, then put on her best bratty face. Taking a moment to muss her hair a bit to look windswept, she hurried back into the room and opened the third, much smaller trunk¡ªthe one she had pushed under the bed and tried not to think about. Tatiana forced herself not to make a face as she clicked open the latches and lifted the lid, revealing an assortment of leather, wooden, glass, and metal ¡®toys¡¯ as ¡®papa¡¯ called them. Tatiana was uncomfortably familiar with most of them, unfortunately. Simple ropes. Leather straps and cuffs, restraints to fix an unwilling participant to a bed¡ªor any surface where they could be tied down, really. A leather ¡®outfit¡¯ for her to wear that was little more than a series of strings that covered the private bits. Some kind of mask thing that ¡®papa¡¯ liked to wear and a set of leather underwear for him. A wooden paddle and a cane. Metal clamps. Several different things that he had used on, and in her and which had left her sore for days after. The case and its contents gave her nightmares, honestly. Thankfully, what she wanted was right at the top. Picking out a leather riding crop, along with the mask and underwear, she laid them on the bed and quickly put away the case. Then, she took a seat on the bed, laid the riding crop across her lap, and waited. Unfortunately, she didn¡¯t have to wait terribly long, as she heard the familiar gait of his heavy, plodding footsteps. Taking a steadying breath, she sat up straighter and put on the other girl¡¯s face. Keys jangled and the door opened as the fat, balding form of ¡®papa Loria¡¯ entered the room, quickly turning to close and lock it behind him. ¡°Ahh~ Tatiana! You¡¯ve been such a bad girl today! I¡¯ll have to punish you thoroughly!!!¡± the ¡®man¡¯ got out as be fumbled with his belt, turning around to leer at her.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. The leer dropped off for confusion when the mask and underwear hit him in the face. ¡°Put them on, communist pig!¡± ¡°Ex-excuse me?¡± Loria jerked back, shock on his face. For just a moment, he squinted at her, as though he were trying to make sure it was actually Tatiana and not her. That wouldn¡¯t do. She needed him to see that girl, not Tatiana. Tatiana wasn¡¯t scary. Tatiana didn¡¯t make ¡®papa¡¯ do stupid things. She took a breath and glared. ¡°Did I stutter?! Now, pig!¡± Tatiana demanded, slapping the riding crop into her palm with an audible snap that made the fat man jump. ¡°You think I came here and destroyed your precious little boats only to be pawed over by a fat, disgusting tub of communist lard? You make me sick. Pigs like you should know their place. Now, put it on and get on your hands and knees and squeal like a good commie piggie, or I¡¯m taking my toys and going home and you can play with yourself like the pathetic creature you are.¡± ¡°YES MA¡¯AM!!!¡± Tatiana hid her disgust as the man began disrobing. As she watched and planned her next move, idly her thoughts turned to prayer. Once upon a time, Tatiana had been a very devout girl. A strong believer in God. That He would protect her, her family, and that He loved them all. Now, looking down at the creature that called itself a man who even now was slobbering all over her feet, she knew the truth. If God existed, there were only two options. Either he wasn¡¯t paying attention and just didn¡¯t care what happened on Earth, or he hated them and put them here to suffer. God doesn¡¯t answer my prayers, so this one is for anyone who will listen. Some other god, an angel, even the devil himself. Someone please save me from this! While there¡¯s still something left worth saving. I don¡¯t want to be the person he¡¯s turning me into.
¡°General von Degurechaff?¡± I looked up from the paperwork I was reviewing¡ªsome rough drafts of a proposed law Pedro had sent me to look over. They would be the foundation for early screening and detection of mages in the population and lay the framework for a conscription based education and service period for all mages. It was basically all things that I had talked with Pedro about before, just finally put on paper to be revised before being made official. ¡°Go ahead,¡± I answered absently as Visha entered the room with a fresh pot of coffee and a plate of snacks¡ªchocolate covered cookies, by the looks of things. I sighed and took one of the longer cookies, using it to stir my coffee and letting the chocolate melt off of it and into the cup. ¡°Ma¡¯am, the bombers have returned. Edwina and her other two pilots will be in the briefing room soon.¡± A grin spread across my face. Finally, some good news! ¡°Excellent! I want their flight data and satellite footage of the area. I want everyone there in half an hour. Adm. Fischer and Capt. Fuchs too, unless they¡¯re on leave.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll round everyone up, ma¡¯am. Control out.¡± Chuckling, I sat back in my seat and stretched out, letting out a pleased sigh as I felt my upper back pop. ¡°Today¡¯s a good day.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Visha asked, sending me an impish grin as she nibbled on a cookie, before moving around behind my chair. ¡°Then let me make it better.¡± I raised an eyebrow, pulling the now chocolate free cookie out of my coffee. ¡°And how do you intend to do that?¡± I asked, biting into the cookie. A moment later, I nearly choked as her hands landed on my shoulders and squeezed. Hot breath washed over my ear and a shiver ran down my body from head to toe. ¡°Unbutton your shirt and find out~.¡± I forced myself to swallow and washed it down with a sip of coffee to clear my throat. ¡°We¡¯re,¡± I cleared my throat, ¡°we¡¯re still on duty, major.¡± ¡°Mhmm,¡± Visha purred into my ear and I felt my ears and neck go red and hot. ¡°The door is locked and there¡¯s nothing in the regulations that say it¡¯s against the rules for me to rub your back, general.¡± Considering it for a moment, I realized that she was right. There was no rule expressly forbidding it, even if it was highly irregular. It would definitely count as sexual harassment if I were a man and had demanded she do it! But with the age difference and the fact that we were both women compounded onto the disparity in rank, the issue was complicated at best from a legal standpoint if someone wanted to argue either coercion or sexual harassment one way or another. Who would they even side with, if someone walked in and saw this? Blame the higher ranking officer for not putting a stop to it? Blame the older woman for making potentially unwanted physical advances? My inner turmoil left Visha a brief opening, but that¡¯s all she needed to act. Her hands snaked around my front and started working on my buttons, undoing them quickly. Deft fingers pulled at my dress shirt, pulling it down and leaving me in only my sleeveless under shirt and the bra under that. Hands on my shoulders pushed me forward until I was practically laying on the desk. Then, the larger woman leaned into me and I groaned as her hands went to work. ¡°Let¡¯s get you nice and relaxed for that debrief,¡± Visha purred and my eyes slipped closed as she seemed to find every tense spot in my back. ¡°I see your dastardly plan now,¡± I murmured sleepily. ¡°Soften me up and get me used to this kind of treatment, so you can manipulate me later.¡± ¡°Yep!¡± Viktoriya chirped. ¡°That way, when I eventually make my move, you won¡¯t see it coming until it¡¯s far too late to do anything about it. I¡¯ve got just over a year and a half to condition you into getting used to this sort of thing.¡± ¡°Mm.¡± Stretching out and making myself comfortable, I asked, ¡°And what do you intend to do, hm? Take me out and try to get me drunk?¡± Visha scoffed. ¡°No point. You don¡¯t get drunk. We¡¯d just be wasting money.¡± I grinned at that and she poked my ribs, making me jerk as she hit a ticklish spot with such deadly precision that it left me wondering how long she had been learning things about my body and making little notes to take advantage of later. ¡°We¡¯ll go out to the bierhaus to celebrate. Make it an event for all the officers. All of us who have been with you the longest. We¡¯ll all finally share a drink together¡ªout of uniform, of course.¡± ¡°I see. A night of camaraderie among friends sounds good,¡± I agreed, nodding. It wasn¡¯t quite the same as finally being able to enter the officers¡¯ lounge back home in Germany, but it would suffice. For now. One day, we¡¯ll go back, and I¡¯ll take the time to go in. ¡°And then¡­¡± Visha whispered, leaning in close, her arms wrapping around me as the softness of her breasts pressed firmly into my back. My breath caught in my throat and I realized suddenly that she had already succeeded in conditioning me into expecting her presence and touch, so much so that I didn¡¯t want to put up any kind of struggle or protest. One of her hands came up and her short nails slipped into my hair, before beginning to scratch at my scalp. My eyes rolled in my head as a sigh left me and she chuckled at the reaction. Swallowing thickly, I nervously asked, ¡°And then¡­?¡± Visha leaned in and a moment later, I felt warm, plush lips press against my cheek. A knock at the door made me jump, but Visha simply stood up and helped pull my shirt back into place. ¡°Yes?¡± she called, not sounding surprised in the least at the knock. She distracted me! I realized. ¡°Everyone¡¯s ready for the debriefing,¡± Weiss called through the door, before I heard his boots clomp away. I turned a glare on Viktoriya, who giggled. Pulling the chair back, she helped me stand and fix my shirt, smoothing down any wrinkles. Then, she picked up the tray of snacks and coffee pot and hurried out of the room. I made a discontented sound as she fled, turning only long enough to shoot me a flirtatious wink and a grin, before sashaying out, the sway of her hips drawing my eyes before she disappeared into the room down the hall. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to calm down. A thought conjured an illusion I used as a mirror to make sure nothing was mussed or out of place. My hair was a bit mussed, so I took a moment to run my hands through it and put it back into place. My face and neck were still a bit pink. Closing my eyes, I focused, turning my attention inwards to my body. My mana. Opening my eyes, I found my complexion back to normal. Nodding, I collected my coffee cup and downed the remainder of the now cool coffee before carrying it into the briefing room. Taking my place at the head of the table, I sent Visha a mild glare and she stuck her tongue out as she refilled my cup. Nearby, I heard a stifled chuckle from the direction of Weiss. Turning my glare on him, he simply grinned and stood. ¡°Alright,¡± he gestured towards Edwina and her two pilots at the end of the table. ¡°Our air wing has just returned from conducting a successful bombing raid against the Russy Atlantic fleet currently on course to South America. We¡¯ll be looking over the footage and going over the results, and then discussing our plans for them going forward. Do you have the flight recorders?¡± ¡°Yup! Here you go!¡± Edwina grinned, passing three cubes over to Weiss. ¡°Waaait!!!¡± someone called as footsteps came running down the hall, slowing along the way. A moment later, Schugel came into the room, panting and red, looking as though he were about to die from that run. Edwina popped up from her seat and took him by the arm, guiding him over to her seat, where he collapsed with a wheeze. She had a cup of iced water in his hands a moment later. ¡°Deep breaths and drink slowly,¡± she murmured, her hands rubbing the old mad scientist¡¯s arm. I raised an eyebrow, but decided to leave it alone, at least for now. I¡¯d have to corner Edwina and question her later. I had no idea how that relationship worked and I wasn¡¯t entirely sure I wanted to know. Schugel waved his hand at the table as he finally caught his breath. ¡°Please, continue. There are embedded videos from the smart bombs. I want to see the results.¡± Nodding, Weiss brought up the feeds from all three of the bombers. I sat back and watched as the three planes approached and began releasing their payloads. New videos joined the feeds from the bombers as the bombs themselves fell, the ships growing larger as they fell¡ªthe bombs adjusting their flight. Schugel grinned, throwing up his hands and cheering as they landed on target. ¡°Yes! Direct hits! Did you see that?! Within a meter of the target area each!¡± ¡°They¡¯re good,¡± I nodded. ¡°They performed just as expected, as far as accuracy is concerned. The yield seems higher than expected.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Schugel nodded, pulling out a notepad and starting to jot down something. After a few moments, he murmured, ¡°Approximately thirty percent more yield than expected.¡± Leaning forward in my chair, I asked, ¡°Why is that? We need to be able to accurately predict the yield, herr doktor. I can¡¯t drop a smart bomb in a surgical strike to take out a small target in an urban environment, only to take out the urban environment due to having a higher yield than expected.¡± ¡°One moment,¡± Schugel murmured, his pen working furiously. After a few moments, he nodded. ¡°I see. We charged these bombs using the electricity to mana conversion process, and then they sat on the rack until we needed them. They were set to passively absorb mana and it seems that being close to the converters increased the local mana volume, increasing the amount of mana they absorbed in passive mode.¡± ¡°So, we¡¯ll need to switch them off of passive charging and move their storage location after they¡¯ve been charged,¡± I summarized, and Dr. Schugel nodded. ¡°Alright, what about the satellite feeds?¡± Weiss dismissed the holograms from the cubes and activated his computation orb. A moment later, we were treated to a view of the Russy Atlantic fleet heading our direction. A grin pulled my lips upwards as I took in the aftermath of the attack. Two of their ships were still on fire and putting off great gouts of black smoke that trailed behind them for miles. Some of the ships that were too close to the blasts were damaged and had people moving over their decks, doing damage control and repairs as they put out fires and patched leaks. The others that had been hit directly seemed to be gone, but as the video played out and the satellite moved away, we spotted flaming debris some miles behind the fleet. ¡°It looks like they hit everything we wanted,¡± Weiss mused, and I grinned. ¡°That¡¯s good news. Very good news.¡± Turning to Schugel and Edwina, along with the other two pilots, I continued, ¡°Good work. This puts us in position to capitalize the moment they land. But that doesn¡¯t mean we shouldn¡¯t prepare beforehand to make sure they have a warm welcome waiting for them. Let¡¯s hear some ideas on how we should greet our hungry communist friends when they make land.¡± There were some murmurings as everyone considered it and I listened idly as I picked another chocolate covered cookie to nibble on. After a moment, Grantz hesitantly raised a hand. ¡°Ma¡¯am?¡± ¡°Go ahead, captain,¡± I nodded, putting the cookie down for a sip of coffee. Grantz glanced at Weiss and Visha for a moment and the other man nodded. ¡°How uh, how do we feel about poison?¡± ¡°It¡¯s an indiscriminate weapon of terror, typically considered to be the weapon of women and cowards,¡± I mused, considering it. ¡°Sorry, ma¡¯am. I¡¯ll think of something else¡ª¡± I held up a hand. ¡°I didn¡¯t say no,¡± I interrupted. ¡°It can be turned into a very discriminate weapon, depending on the conditions. For instance, if a few shipments of beef, fruit, and so on made it to wherever they intend to land the day before. Address them to a company in the area, falsify the shipping records, leak the records to the local commies. Then when they arrive, those will be the first supplies they raid. Have just enough there to satisfy only a portion of their people so they still have to go out and conduct raids against the locals.¡± ¡°Why not bomb them again?¡± someone asked, and I shook my head. ¡°If we entirely remove the threat we remove the justification for the things we¡¯re trying to do,¡± I explained. ¡°There is another option,¡± Schugel murmured, and I turned my attention to him. ¡°I would suggest evacuating the civilians from the area beforehand, but we could follow the Americans¡¯ example and use nuclear material.¡± I winced, even though the idea made sense. ¡°I would prefer not to leave the area poisoned and unusable for future generations. Hard energetic radiation would be fine, but anything that lingers or could spread on the wind would be bad.¡± ¡°Directed X-rays,¡± Schugel grinned. ¡°We could set up in a nearby building, point an emitter at their barracks, turn it on, and walk away.¡± ¡°A competent mage would detect it,¡± Visha pointed out. ¡°NBC shield spells would filter it.¡± Schugel waved his hand dismissively. ¡°Turn it on at night for a few seconds at a time. I could easily set up a timer to have it go on all night.¡± ¡°What about tainting the water supply?¡± someone else asked. ¡°Not the entire supply, of course. But we could have someone come in a few days before they arrive, claim to be there to fix a leak, or fix the building water heaters, then contaminate them in some way. Something annoying that they wouldn¡¯t immediately suspect is poison. You¡¯ll have a difficult time conducting aerial maneuvers if you¡¯re too busy sitting on the shitter.¡± ¡°It¡¯s evil,¡± I grinned. ¡°I like it. What else can we do to give them a hard time?¡± ¡°Sleep deprivation,¡± Weiss immediately suggested. Visha hummed. ¡°Turn up the heat.¡± ¡°Bugs. The bugs here are awful. Maybe we can lure them in?¡± I sat back and listened, a happy smile on my face as my bloodthirsty men came up with various ways to harass the commies. 20 A Young Girl¡¯s Outer Heaven 20
Commissioned by kyo amamoto.
¡°Morning, Jack.¡± ¡°Morning, Earl,¡± Jack grinned to the security guard at the door as he showed his badge, then opened up a box of donuts and offered one up. The security guard grinned and took a napkin from the box to grab one of the offered pastries. ¡°How¡¯s the family?¡± ¡°Wife¡¯s thinking of picking up a job now that the kids are out of school and Mindy¡¯s getting married. Said she wants to try the supermarket.¡± Jack winced. ¡°Don¡¯t recommend it. My wife tried it before we had our son and she hated it. She said it felt like her soul was being crushed. She¡¯s found another way to keep busy with Jack Jr. in school now.¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± Earl asked, raising an eyebrow, fishing for ideas to give his wife. ¡°Yeah, she took up sewing. She makes all my clothes now. Tell you what, Andrea¡¯s been thinking about starting a book club with some of the women in the neighborhood. I¡¯ll talk to her and find out when she¡¯s supposed to have her first meeting. Why don¡¯t you send the wife over and they can talk about it. See if it interests her?¡± Earl considered it for a moment before nodding. ¡°Sure, I¡¯ll¡ª¡± ¡°Hey, what¡¯s the hold up?¡± someone called from behind as another man came through the doors. ¡°Quit shooting the shit. Some of us here have work to do.¡± Jack moved aside and let Earl check the other man¡¯s badge before waving him through. Shaking his head, Jack closed up his box of donuts. ¡°I¡¯ll catch you later, Earl.¡± ¡°Later, Jack. I¡¯ll talk to the wife about it.¡± Nodding, Jack made his way towards the elevator, only to have it close almost in his face as the rude guy grinned from the other side of the doors. Shrugging, Jack hit the button and waited as it went up, then came back down. As soon as the car was empty, he got in and hit the button for B2. A short ride down, and he made his way down the hall towards his office¡ªone of many in a set of offices dedicated to the Company¡¯s analysts¡¯ department here at the E Street Complex. As he went, he stopped and offered donuts to his coworkers, until only two were left for himself by the time he sat down at his desk. Opening his thermos, he poured himself a cup of coffee and took a few minutes to eat breakfast and settle in before getting to work. Part of that process involved checking his inbox, which he saw had a package. ¡°Hm?¡± Jack hummed, raising an eyebrow as he pulled his knife out and cut the package open, dumping its contents onto the desk. Inside were a bunch of black and white photographs of the sky with stars circled in red marker¡ªsome of which had arrows and writing indicating direction of movement, speed, and so on. Along with the photos were sheets of paper someone had taken the time to type up, giving details on what each photo contained and, in the end, a summary. Finally, there were two canisters¡ªone containing a reel to reel audio recording, the other a film reel for a projector. Flipping the package over, Jack checked the address. ¡°Allegheny Observatory, Pittsburgh PA.. What¡¯s an observatory in Pennsylvania doing sending us mail? How did they even know we¡¯d be the people to send something suspicious to?¡± Finishing off his breakfast and coffee, Jack began putting photos to pages and figuring out what was going on. And he couldn¡¯t. Pages upon pages of opaque scientific jargon and indecipherable algebraic equations. Everywhere he looked, it was more references to obscure astronomical theories, passing mentions of other fields of science, and the recent works of other astronomers. And while Jack himself was no high school dropout, these were clearly astronomical proofs meant to convince other astronomers and PHD holders. He took a step back, refilled his cup of coffee, and took a sip. But there were a couple of pieces that stood out: namely, the concerningly common use of ¡®megatons of TNT¡¯ as a unit. That unit he was somewhat familiar with from mage training, as a purely theoretical unit of measurement for the force of an explosion formula. It was for a proposed joint casting to upscale formulas. Just a thought experiment of how many mages can we add before this falls apart, then taking the end result and adding zeroes to make a theoretical maximized yield formula. But it was just a theory. There was something dangerous up there in the sky that was threatening the U, S, and A. Whatever it was, there was enough proof that someone from the U.S. Naval Observatory had given this ¡®Professor Wolfe¡¯ the address for the Company and Jack¡¯s department here in the basement. They thought he was the right man for the job and he wasn¡¯t going to disappoint. Jack decided to approach the material from a different angle and started with the reels first. Maybe they would help him decipher the papers. Heading down the hall to the projector room, he quickly set up the two reels, made sure they were synced, cut off the lights, and hit play. The familiar clicking of the projector filled the room and Jack watched as the camera¡¯s field of view panned wildly. ¡°Father, are you sure we should¡ª?¡± ¡°Yes, Sara. Now hush. Point the camera here, please.¡± The camera centered on a man in his early fifties, with graying hair and a beard, wearing a dark colored tweed suit. ¡°Good evening¡­ or whenever this video finds you. By now, you¡¯ve hopefully had a chance to go over the photographs and notes I¡¯ve sent. If not, then I suppose you¡¯re in for quite the surprise. ¡°Before we begin, allow me to introduce myself and explain a bit. My name is Professor Edward Wolfe, twenty year professor of astronomy at the University of Pittsburgh. The building you¡¯re seeing is the Allegheny Observatory. The device you see behind me,¡± the professor gestured towards a tall structure behind him, upon which was mounted what Jack guessed was a very large telescope, ¡°is a 30-inch refracting telescope, constructed in 1914. It is in perfect working condition and is maintained regularly. The lens is checked for defects and debris on a weekly basis. ¡°Or, to put things bluntly: I am not a crackpot or some madman raving at the sky, nor am I some wet behind the ears greenhorn who can¡¯t tell the difference between an asteroid and a mosquito in front of the lens. My equipment is relatively new and in good, working order. What I¡¯ve seen, what you are about to see, is not a fault of the lens, not a speck of dirt or a smudge. I¡¯ve spent the last weeks tracking these things and contacting colleagues to verify my findings.¡± The professor gestured towards the girl holding the camera and the video moved as she walked forward. ¡°Now, we¡¯ll connect the camera here to the telescope. I¡¯ll shut it off for a moment while we do so.¡± The film skipped a few blank frames and the audio went silent for a moment before video came back showing a star field. The professor¡¯s voice continued. ¡°There we go. Now, if you¡¯ll direct your attention to the lower right quadrant, you¡¯ll see it coming into view in just a moment.¡± Jack watched and, sure enough, something bright entered the camera¡¯s field of view. ¡°There it is. One of them. If you¡¯ve read my notes, you¡¯ll know by now that there are between two and three hundred of them flying overhead, if not more. We won¡¯t have an accurate count for some time, as we¡¯re waiting on word from colleagues overseas and elsewhere. You see, while some of them move, others appear to be fixed in position. Have no doubt, they¡¯re still moving at a fast clip just to keep up with the rotation of the Earth, but to the observer on the ground they would appear to be still. As though just another star in the sky. But they¡¯re not stars!¡± The bright spot was nearly fully across the field of view now as the professor continued. ¡°I believe that these new satellites orbiting our world are artificial in nature. Man made! We¡¯ve theorized about it for years, of course. How, if we could escape the Earth¡¯s atmosphere and put a telescope in naked space, it would be able to see so much more. Ideas have been proposed for how to get one up, but there are very real technical limitations. A balloon would be able to get one fairly high, but its lifting potential is limited by the mass of any cargo and the Archimedes Principle, meaning they will never truly escape atmosphere¡ªand these artificial satellites are much, much higher than any balloon¡¯s ability to reach. ¡°Of course, we¡¯re all aware of the Germans¡¯ V-2 rockets by now. I¡¯ve spoken to several people in the field who assure me that a similar rocket could theoretically make it not just into space, but even send something to the moon itself. However, you would need a rocket roughly two hundred feet tall or more to do it and you start getting into the problem of needing exponentially more fuel. The fact is that as far as those experts are concerned, we aren¡¯t there yet, technologically speaking. They estimate twenty, perhaps thirty years of development of the required technologies.¡± The camera went dark again as the satellite finished passing by overhead. A moment later, it returned, once again centered on the professor. ¡°And yet, despite all of that, someone has managed to do it. So I look at this and I have to ask myself, ¡®Am I looking at a German wunderweapon? A last ditch effort by the Germans to avoid surrendering?¡¯ I can¡¯t answer that question. I just hope you can.¡± The professor paused for a moment, his gaze shifting slightly off center as a worried look crossed his face. ¡°I don¡¯t know if you¡¯re aware of what happened in the Atlantic, with the disappearance of one of our fleets. I have friends in the navy who were able to get me your address. I also have friends in universities across the country, currently doing research on mana levels and the like. If you didn¡¯t know, then this may come as a shock. A few months ago, one of our fleets was lost on its return trip from the war front. At the same time, those instruments picked up a large spike in mana. Someone with access confirmed that it matched the mana signature of a rather infamous figure in the war¡ªan aerial mage known as the Devil of the Rhine.¡± That was a name Jack was uncomfortably familiar with. It had not just become his job of late, it had nearly cost him his job due to a minor disagreement with some people who were, while technically not his bosses seeing as the Company was a civilian agency on paper, they could still make his life miserable. Anything even tangentially related to that mage was being copied to him for review and analysis. ¡°The explosion was larger than anything we¡¯ve ever seen. On par with things quietly theorized about behind closed doors involving certain volatile materials. I can¡¯t help but wonder¡­ What if they married the two ideas? Put such a device on a rocket capable of sending it into space, then set it to orbit the planet. Just waiting for some timer to count down, or a signal to be sent, at which time it would descend and strike at some pre-designated target. Perhaps one of our cities. Perhaps the capitol or the White House. They are only a mile and a half apart. If a device were to strike the Smithsonian, the explosion could be large enough that it could take out both.¡± Jack felt his blood run cold at those words. His heart raced, pounding in his ears, barely audible over the sudden ringing in them. And then, the professor spoke again, and Jack collapsed down into the chair beside the projector. ¡°And remember¡­ There are over two hundred of whatever they are currently circling the globe. If it is enemy action, then we are in the most disadvantageous position possible. In chess, I believe this would be checkmate. We have nowhere left to move. Nothing to do but concede the game. I pray that isn¡¯t the case, but I¡¯ve long since learned that prayer by itself isn¡¯t worth much. I don¡¯t know about you, but I believe I¡¯ll start a little family project and build ourselves a shelter, just in case.¡± Shifting his gaze back to the camera, it felt like the professor was looking directly into Jack¡¯s eyes. ¡°Whoever you are, please make sure this reaches the people who need to know.¡± The film ended a moment later, the sudden flicking of the reel making Jack jump. Stiffly, he went about putting the film back on the first reel properly and rewinding the audio recording. As he did, a theory began to form. It was a wild one, but not impossible¡ªjust so improbable that it shouldn¡¯t be possible. And yet, the more he read, the more he studied, the more it seemed the photos showed that not only was it possible but someone had done it. Dear God, someone put something into space. A whole lot of somethings. Is it really some sort of weapon? Can it be converted into one? The man who had discovered the artificial satellites as he called them didn¡¯t know. But the possibility that there were over two hundred of these things just flying over their heads at any time had seemed like it might be a threat to the security of the nation. No, not just a threat, but an orbital guillotine over the collective heads of millions of his fellow Americans. And someone out there had their hand on the lever.
¡°Chu~!¡± Viktoriya blinked, looking up and across the desk as her superior sniffed. Feeling her gaze, Tanya asked, ¡°What?¡± ¡°What was that?!¡± Visha laughed, and the younger girl blushed. ¡°It was a sneeze!¡± ¡°I¡¯ve heard you sneeze before. That wasn¡¯t a sneeze! It was too cute to be a sneeze!¡± ¡°S-shut up!¡± Tanya demanded, looking away, only to let out a squeak as Visha moved around the desk and wrapped her in a hug. ¡°J, just what are you doing?! We¡¯re still on the clock!¡± ¡°Shh! No one¡¯s watching. It¡¯s fine~.¡±
His hands shook and he felt sick. Everything in him told him that he needed to do something. That he needed to move. To let his superiors know. No. I don¡¯t want to jump the gun here. If I can¡¯t verify it, if I can¡¯t get proof, then I¡¯ll lose my job and they might ignore it. Taking the reels back to his office, Jack left them there and locked up, collecting his jacket and keys. He stopped in the restroom and took a few minutes to sit on the toilet. Not out of any need to use the restroom, but just to give his nerves time to ease up and his body to relax. At least, that had been the intent. But his mind wouldn¡¯t let it go. He remembered the footage, taken from a computation orb, of one of the joint casting experiments. As it turned out, the upper limit of common mages working together with no special training before a formula collapsed was upwards of one hundred. They liked to show the video to new mage recruits as an example of what they could do, working together. He could picture it now. The group of mages taking up a formation in the sky, like the old method of soldiers lining up for volley fire. The sky filling with the glow of mana as they began. Then below them, a stretch of desert somewhere in Nevada¡ªempty, save for a mockup of an American town.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. There was a fireball and a distinctive mushroom shaped cloud. The town, over a square mile of staged buildings, was either disintegrated or blasted to bits and burned up. When it cleared, all that was left was a crater and burning debris. Jack¡¯s mind helpfully supplied him with the thought of what that would look like, if it went off near his home. An all too vivid image of his beautiful blonde wife going to open the front door, only to have just enough time to process the wave of fire and force rushing in, before¡ª Jack turned and fell to his knees, heaving into the toilet. His body ached. He was covered in sweat. His heart felt like he had just run triple his normal morning five mile jog. When his body stopped shaking, he left the stall, washed his hands and rinsed his mouth out, then splashed some water on his face. Looking at himself in the mirror, he took a deep breath. Okay. He said he had a friend in the Naval Observatory. That¡¯s right next door. With that in mind, he hurried out of the building. It was a relatively short walk from Navy Hill to the observatory¡¯s main office. Jack hurried inside and was greeted by a younger looking woman sitting at a desk. ¡°Can I help you, sir?¡± Jack hurried over and pulled out his government ID. ¡°Yeah, sorry. Jack Thompson. I¡¯m an analyst with uh,¡± he gestured with the ID and she took it, reading it over. ¡°I see,¡± the woman murmured. ¡°What can the USNO do for the CIA, Mr. Thompson?¡± ¡°Do you have a, um,¡± Jack racked his brain, trying to remember the notes the professor had left. ¡°Leonardo King? Retired captain?¡± ¡°Leo?¡± she asked, chuckling. ¡°Yes. Hang on a minute, I¡¯ll buzz him for you.¡± Jack nodded and she picked up her desk phone. A moment later, she turned slightly away. ¡°Hi, Leo, it¡¯s Anne. Listen, I¡¯ve got a guy down here from the CIA, a Mr. Jack Thompson. He seems kinda¡­ frazzled, you know? ¡­ Oh. ¡­ Oh! Yeah, I¡¯ll send him up!¡± Hanging up, she pointed towards the stair well in the corner of the room. ¡°Second floor, third office on your left. He¡¯s been expecting you.¡± ¡°Excuse me?¡± Jack asked, and she smiled. Confused, he made his way to the stairs and up to the second floor. Finding the right door, he knocked. ¡°Come in!¡± someone called from the other side, and Jack entered. ¡°I¡¯ve been expecting you, Mr. Thompson. You¡¯ve seen it, then? Ed¡¯s little home movie.¡± It wasn¡¯t a question, but Jack nodded. ¡°I have. And you¡¯ve been expecting someone from the Agency, or¡­?¡± ¡°You specifically,¡± Leo smiled, standing and offering his hand, which Jack shook before the two took seats across the desk from each other. ¡°Why me?¡± Leo chuckled. ¡°Your name has been floated around certain circles. Former marine mage. Computation orb failure during training left you unable to fly again, but you¡¯ve found a way to put your skills to use. You know, most people would have some second thoughts about telling a general they¡¯re wrong to his face, let alone in a room full of his peers and superiors.¡± Frowning, Jack sat up a bit straighter. ¡°Sir, I couldn¡¯t just say nothing when the evidence clearly showed he was wrong. She¡¯s still alive and she was seen in Germany, after the explosion that supposedly claimed her life¡ª¡± The older man waved him off. ¡°I¡¯m aware. I¡¯ve heard the theory. That¡¯s why I had this sent you way. You¡¯re one of the few in the Company who has the balls to stand up and do what¡¯s right. I trust you¡¯ll live up to that reputation now.¡± Jack slowly nodded. ¡°I would, but I can¡¯t do it without more evidence. I need verifiable proof from an independent third party before I can take this to my superiors.¡± ¡°We thought as much. Come back tonight and you¡¯ll have your proof. You¡¯ll be recording?¡± ¡°I will,¡± Jack confirmed, briefly reaching up and patting the pocket containing his precision pocket watch computation orb¡ªa much newer model than the training model that had seen him grounded just before the U.S. got involved in the war. ¡°The show starts at 2130. Don¡¯t be late,¡± Leo warned. ¡°I won¡¯t. So, what can you tell me about the satellites that wasn¡¯t in the report from Prof. Wolfe?¡± The captain sat back and pulled a pipe from his desk. ¡°You mind?¡± he asked, and Jack shook his head, but got up to open the nearby window. The older man packed his pipe as he spoke. ¡°It wasn¡¯t in the report, but we have a theory.¡± ¡°Go on,¡± Jack urged. ¡°There are a lot of them, and while we can¡¯t see them during the day, it¡¯s not like they stop moving during the daytime.¡± Turning around, he pulled a small globe on a stand from a bookshelf on the wall behind his desk. Putting it on the desk between them, Leo took a moment to strike a match and light his pipe, before setting the globe to spinning slowly. Picking up a pen, he held it over the globe, so that it floated over a path that put it over the northern part of the U.S.. ¡°They¡¯re moving like this,¡± Leo said around the stem of his pipe, taking another pen and holding it up on the opposite side of the globe, but along the same path. ¡°From where they¡¯re sitting, they can see everything along this latitude.¡± ¡°And we¡¯re worried they can hit anything below it,¡± Jack murmured, and Leo nodded. ¡°That¡¯s right. But here¡¯s the funny thing. Here, hold these,¡± he gestured with the pens and Jack reached out and took them, before Leo took two more and held them up so they formed a square. ¡°Notice anything?¡± Jack studied the placement for a few moments before nodding. ¡°They can all see each other.¡± ¡°Bingo. I¡¯ve been speaking with some of the boys over at the Magic Institute for Research on Global Events. They¡¯re communicating. They¡¯ve picked up magical signals bouncing between them and the ground. They haven¡¯t decrypted them yet, but there¡¯s definitely a signal. Now, here¡¯s where it gets interesting. I¡¯ve had a buddy in the mage corps doing some surveys¡­¡± Leo stopped the globe and gestured for Jack to keep his pens where they were as he began moving his own. ¡°Ed and a few others spotted this one, and we verified it¡¯s there,¡± Leo moved a pen over the middle of the U.S. above the globe. ¡°But the survey found one further south,¡± Leo moved the second pen over the Gulf of Mexico. ¡°The Gulf?¡± Jack asked, then looked at the globe again. ¡°No. The Tropic of Cancer.¡± ¡°Mhmm. We haven¡¯t sent anyone down to verify yet, but I bet you a Buffalo nickel there¡¯s one over the equator too.¡± Jack opened his mouth to ask why, only to close it with a click of teeth. He dropped the pens and leaned back in his seat, thinking. ¡°Do you have the coordinates for the ones you know about?¡± ¡°Got ¡®em right here,¡± Leo nodded, pushing a sheet of paper forward. ¡°The ones marked as synchronous stay directly above a place without moving.¡± ¡°Got it,¡± Jack nodded. Firing up an illusion formula, he produced a globe with latitude and longitude lines, then began filling in dots over where they moved. The globe quickly grew a series of dots flying around it in white, with dots in blue sitting still¡ªone above Kansas, one above the Gulf, and a third hypothetical in yellow above the equator along the east coast of South America, specifically the country of Brasa. Then, pulling up his research data, he plotted out a course for a missing German U-boat in red, along with several others in yellow. ¡°So, hear me out. The day the ceasefire was declared, a special Imperial unit under the direct command of the General Staff went AWOL¡ªthe Salamander Battle Group. And the leader of that group?¡± ¡°Your white whale?¡± Leo asked, and Jack grinned. ¡°Got it in one. The Devil of the Rhine herself. So, Salamander goes missing and that same night, so does a German sub¡ªU-37. Along with a bunch of equipment and supplies that just so happened to be shipped to where U-37 was docked. The man responsible for that has himself since disappeared, but I¡¯ll get to that in a minute.¡± When Leo nodded, Jack continued. ¡°This is the route U-37 likely took through the Adriatic all the way to the Atlantic. I say probably because it follows the course that a private ship, the Lucia, took on its crossing to America. The Lucia left the same night. It¡¯s not out of the question to think that a private ship¡¯s captain with ties to the Empire helped them escape. It wouldn¡¯t be hard to hide a U-boat under another ship when aerial observers were spotted.¡± A new blue line joined them. ¡°This is the course our fleet was taking at the time. They intersect. And this,¡± a red dot was added in the middle of the Atlantic, ¡°is where last radio transmissions and magical detection puts our fleet when it went down to that bomb. So, why would the fleet suddenly change course?¡± The former navy captain hummed, puffing at his pipe. After a moment, he answered, ¡°They spotted something.¡± ¡°I think so, yeah. And when they got too close¡­¡± ¡°The Devil set off some kind of mana bomb that wiped out the fleet,¡± Leo surmised, and Jack nodded. ¡°But what if it didn¡¯t take out U-37? What if the sub kept going?¡± The red line became dashed and terminated on the east coast of South America¡ªBrasa, to be specific. ¡°And now we¡¯ve got these devices flying above the planet and what looks like a trail leading south,¡± the older man murmured, stroking his chin. ¡°Do you believe in coincidence, Mr. Thompson?¡± ¡°I stopped believing in coincidence and started believing in providence when I woke up after a fall from five thousand feet only broke my back.¡± Pointing to his floating map, Jack said, ¡°She¡¯s alive. I know it. There are too many coincidences. Her unit went AWOL the same night this ship left and a U-boat went missing. The explosion here. Then a recently decommissioned U.S. bomber marked for sale shows up in Germany the day the Air Force is getting ready to transport a top Imperial magical scientist and his team. One of those planes suddenly turns and flies into the Federation. The other, the one carrying Dr. Schugel himself keeps going, but disappears somewhere over the Atlantic. That¡¯s also, coincidentally, the last day anyone sees Lt. Col. Maximilian Johann von Ugar, serving in the Imperial Railway Department¡ªthe man who sent the shipment of supplies that went missing to the port where U-37 was docked. A man who reportedly attended their war college with the Devil of the Rhine.¡± ¡°You think she came back for him,¡± Leo asked, and Jack shook his head. ¡°No, I think he was just a target of convenience. She was there for Schugel. Reports say he¡¯s a bit of a mad scientist. He¡¯s the one who invented the V-2. He also developed some new hot rod of a computation orb that the Devil¡¯s old unit from before they got integrated into Salamander, the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion, all used. Early intel from our interrogation of Schugel and his people say he developed a prototype that was even more advanced, but too much machine for almost any mage to handle.¡± ¡°Almost.¡± Tapping out his pipe into his ash tray, Leo asked, ¡°You think she has it?¡± ¡°She was there when it was developed. The test pilot and the only one who could get it to work, according to reports. I don¡¯t know how much you know about operation orbs¡­?¡± ¡°Not much. Just that a mage needs one.¡± ¡°Kind of. It¡¯s like¡­ a rifle. You can still kill someone with a knife, or your bare hands, but it¡¯s a lot easier with a rifle. A computation orb helps a mage offload a lot of the mental strain of the math required for magic. A normal mage can do the math for one spell in his head at all times. An exceptional mage can juggle two. With a computation orb, that adds an extra formula, giving a normal mage two formulas to use. Flight plus a shield, or flight plus an explosive formula. An exceptional mage can do all three of those at the same time. I¡¯ve been over the data from almost every battle the Devil participated in. Before meeting Schugel, she was using three or four at a time, on a single core computation orb. Schugel¡¯s work produced a dual core computation orb.¡± ¡°Three spells at the same time for even a mediocre mage,¡± Leo interpreted, and Jack nodded. ¡°The elites of the 203rd were reported to be able to use four. The Devil? Between five and seven.¡± Leo frowned. ¡°The math doesn¡¯t add up.¡± ¡°No, it does. Schugel¡¯s magnum opus was a four core computation orb¡ªand the only mage good enough to use it was the Devil herself. It turned an already exceptional mage into a living legend.¡± Chuckling, Leo said, ¡°It sounds like you admire her.¡± Jack nodded, admitting, ¡°I guess I do. The youngest aerial mage ever. She could do things without an orb that most mages with one can¡¯t. Highest kill count of any mage in history, making her the one and only ace of aces multiple times over. She¡¯s a hero to her people and if she was on our side, we¡¯d call her one too. But that¡¯s beside the point,¡± he waved a hand dismissively. ¡°What I was getting at is this: if Schugel, the madman who came up with that monster of an orb, the V-2, and some kind of mana bomb is alive and under the control of the Devil of the Rhine, then I don¡¯t doubt for a minute that those satellites are his work. He just stuck the concepts together, putting a bomb on a rocket and sending it into orbit. That¡¯s why I need proof. You¡¯ve heard what I think. If I go to my boss and tell them that the biggest two terrors of the Empire are not just alive and working together, but operating in a foreign country with enough resources to do things that our scientists think are thirty years ahead of their time and I don¡¯t have hard evidence? I¡¯m going to get turfed so fast my ass will leave a streak across the parking lot.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯d hate for that to happen,¡± Leo chuckled. ¡°Why don¡¯t you go home early? See your wife and let her know you¡¯ll be going back in late. Get something to eat, then meet back here at nine. You¡¯re wound a little tight, Jack.¡± Jack sighed, stretching in his seat. ¡°Yeah, sorry. This whole thing¡¯s got me worked up.¡± Standing, Jack reached out and shook Leo¡¯s hand. ¡°I¡¯ll be back this evening.¡±
¡°Morning, Jack. You look like crap.¡± ¡°Heh. Yeah. Morning, Earl,¡± Jack nodded, showing his badge and hurrying through the checkpoint. ¡°I¡¯ve been up most of the night preparing a report. Sorry, no time to talk this morning.¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine. Have a good one,¡± Earl waved him through and Jack hurried to the elevator. ¡°Hey! Hold the doors¡ª!¡± A smile pulled Jack¡¯s lips up as the jerk from the day before was cut off. Chuckling, he rode the elevator down and made his way to his office. Taking a seat at his desk, he poured himself a cup of coffee and looked over his inbox, where a large, sealed envelope waited with his name on it. ¡°What do we have here?¡± Jack murmured, using his knife to slit the top of the envelope after reading the return address. Oh, this is from that base selling our used planes. Guess they finally got back to me on who they sold Murder Inc. to. Don¡¯t see why they didn¡¯t just call though. Taking a sip of his coffee, he poured the envelope¡¯s contents onto his desk and nearly choked as his eyes went wide. Carefully putting the cup down, he picked up the photos in now shaking hands. The first photo was of a group of people who had just stepped off a plane. Most of them were civilians, including the pilot, but there near the center was a blonde woman in a uniform. Not the Devil, but her left hand. Then, his eyes spotted someone off to the side of the group. A young girl in shorts, a light sleeveless shirt, short boots, and a cap. She was looking away from the camera, out over the tarmac, but the side profile of her face was unmistakable. Jack flipped to the next photo¡ªa second, much closer shot of the blonde woman in a Brasa uniform, wearing captain rank insignia and with a note at the bottom naming her as Mage Captain Viktoriya Ivanovna Serebryakov. He quickly flipped again and again, through individual shots of everyone there, until he got to her. She stared into the camera, off the paper, and directly into Jack¡¯s soul. She was smiling at something off camera, given her head was turned slightly off center, but her eyes were locked right onto the camera. Those were not the eyes of a little girl. Something deep inside him recognized the eyes of a predator when he saw one¡ªeven if this one was safely in a photograph and not face to face. At the bottom of the photo was a note which read, Tanya Serebryakov. Capt. Serebryakov claimed this was her little sister. ¡°Tanya?¡± Jack murmured, the name ringing a bell. Opening his desk drawer, he took out a folder recovered from the Imperials. They had deleted and destroyed everything they had on Salamander and the 203rd, at least directly. What they hadn¡¯t counted on was anyone going after the tax records. And ¡®Tanya¡¯ was such an uncommon name, being a derivative of the Russy ¡®Tatiana¡¯ sometimes seen on the eastern border of the Empire, that it stood out. A few moments later, Jack had what he as looking for. The Imperials loved to keep records of everything and their filing system was not just meticulous, but if you understood it you could tell exactly where someone in the government worked just by looking at the codes. Captain Viktoriya Ivanovna Serebryakov. The tax filing number was a sequence of digits that started off as marking her forms as coming from the Imperial Army, what branch, a sequence that had never made sense before now, and finally an individual number for Viktoriya herself ending in AM-C¡ªAerial Mage, Conscript. Digging through more paperwork, Jack began pulling out everything containing that third sequence and putting them together. Until finally, he came to what he was hoping to find. And with it, he cracked the filing code. Lt. Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff. Imperial Army. General Staff Office. Salamander Battle Group. TD24091914F (Tanya Degurechaff, DOB: Sept. 24, 1914, Female). Aerial Mage. Volunteer. Jack was pulled from his moment of triumph by the phone ringing. Picking it up, he absently answered, ¡°Jack Thompson.¡± ¡°Jack,¡± his boss began, and Jack winced, ¡°you¡¯re late. If you need to cancel¡ª¡± ¡°No. No! I just got confirmation on something. You¡¯ll want to hear it for yourself. I¡¯ll be up in two minutes!¡± Hanging up, he gathered the photos and paperwork and rushed for the elevator. I can prove she¡¯s alive! Now, I just need to prove how she¡¯s connected to the satellites. 21 A Young Girl¡¯s Outer Heaven 21
Commissioned by kyo amamoto.
¡°Mr. Singer!¡± Pounding and a voice calling at his door pulled Sam from his sleep. The woman beside him stirred, moaning quietly in annoyance as she grabbed the pillow and pulled it down over her head. Sighing, Sam rolled out of bed and looked around for his discarded clothes. ¡°Hang on, I¡¯m coming,¡± he called, and the pounding stopped. Finding his boxers and slacks in a pile, he pulled them on and made his way to the door. Cracking it open, he looked out at one of the young men working for his local contact here in the state of Para, Brasa. ¡°It¡¯s,¡± he paused, then cast a quick formula, ¡°five thirty in the morning. What do you want?¡± ¡°Come! The boat leaves soon and you will want to see!¡± ¡°Fine. Give me five minutes,¡± Sam grumbled and closed the door. He quickly found the rest of his clothes from the night before and pulled them on, followed by taking his pistol from one of his bags and slipping it into the back of his pants, attaching the holster to the belt and pulling his shirt down over the top of it. Finally, he grabbed the straw hat he¡¯d picked up from a local shop and pulled it on, before making his way to the bed. ¡°Hey,¡± he pushed the girl¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Sofia. I need to go.¡± ¡°Mm, fine~,¡± she waved him off, flicking her hand towards the door. ¡°Just do it quietly.¡± Rolling his eyes, Sam gave her ass a quick rub before heading for the door. Slipping out, he locked it behind himself and gestured towards the hallway. ¡°Lead on.¡± The local man nodded and Sam was forced to jog to keep up as they hurried out of the little villa and into a car waiting for them. Rolling down the window, Sam let his mind drift as the somewhat cool morning air slowly woke him up as they left the property¡ªthe residence of one Antonio ¡®Tony¡¯ Igual, younger brother to the former mayor of Bellum, Juan Igual. Former mayor, because almost as soon as the Germans came to town, they began cleaning house according to everything Sam had been able to gather so far. They¡¯d started from the top down, with a decapitation strike against the local corrupt government leadership, gangs, and anyone else who might cause them problems. Except, little did the krauts know Tony was a Company asset and had been for nearly a decade, using his ties to his brother to report on the activities of the Green Family Cartel¡ªone of many groups of interest across all of South America, and just one of many hornets nests they had stirred up. Uncle Sam didn¡¯t officially want to be seen minding his neighbors¡¯ business, so they paid people like Tony to keep them up to speed on local goings on. And while Tony wasn¡¯t directly working for the cartel, unlike his brother, he still did business with them, by using his boats to ship their product along with actual cargo¡ªand it had made him rich. Rich, well-connected, and with an axe to grind against the foreigners responsible for his brother¡¯s death and the former governor, now el presidente of Brasa who had hired the mercenaries to do it. Tony didn¡¯t see it as just business. His family had been hurt and that made it personal for him. Sam could and would use that to his advantage, but he acknowledged that it was going to bite him in the ass if Tony wasn¡¯t careful. Things always get complicated and messy when it stops being business and gets personal, Sam mused as the car slowed, entering the busy dock area. I¡¯m going to have to make sure he doesn¡¯t do something stupid and fuck up the whole operation. Not that he had much room to speak. Sam had already made the cardinal sin of field work in mixing business with pleasure and getting attached. His contact in San Juan, Emilio Gaviria, was some third cousin or married to someone who was to Igual family¡ªSam couldn¡¯t be bothered to memorize the family tree or care. All that really mattered was what had come of it. Sofia Gaviria, upon learning from her drunken uncle just what it was Sam did, had cornered him just before the boat left and demanded he take her with him. Sam would have said no, but when she began listing off Sam¡¯s own contacts better than he knew them, along with their wives, children and more details because she had lived in Bellum with the family before her father moved to San Juan and bought the bar, Sam had decided it would be convenient to take her along to pick her brain for details about the locals. That, and having a pretty local woman on his arm if he needed it would hopefully assuage anyone¡¯s worries that he might be an American spy. Spy thrillers hitting the shelves recently all portrayed their protagonists as some kind of lone wolf who worked alone and only spoke with women to seduce them and pump them for information. Having a sexy, young, enthusiastic woman with him would better sell the cover of a businessman who came down on an assignment and happened to get lucky and find love. And Sofia was very enthusiastic¡­ ¡°We¡¯re here.¡± Sam¡¯s smile fell off as he pulled himself from the memory of last night with Sofia and got out of the car. Following Tony¡¯s man up onto a fishing boat, he shook the captain¡¯s offered hand. ¡°Good morning.¡± ¡°Come. We need to go,¡± the captain motioned for Sam to follow him to the small, enclosed helm. Patting the man standing at the wheel on the shoulder, the captain jerked a thumb at the door and the other man left, leaving Sam alone with the captain. The fisherman throttled the boat up slowly and pulled them away from the dock, out into the river headed for the Atlantic. ¡°Is this what I think it is?¡± Sam asked, and the captain nodded. ¡°Yes. We were given the warning by the harbor master when we came in this morning,¡± the captain confirmed. ¡°We will move to a dock on the mouth of the river and wait. They like to stick to a strict schedule, so it won¡¯t take long.¡± After arriving in Bellum, Sam had quickly heard from both his contact and other locals that the Imperials were conducting some kind of testing off the coast with big bombs. Feeling that this might provide a lead on the theoretical weapon that had destroyed their fleet in the Atlantic, Sam had begun investigating. Over the course of the week, he had also noted some strange mana fluctuations on the days when there was testing being done. It left him more and more convinced they were working on some kind of mana-based weapon that wasn¡¯t dependent on mages to operate, so he had Tony start putting out feelers to find a fishing boat captain willing to take him out to observe one of those tests. With any luck, he¡¯d be able to record everything and send it back home for the lab boys to analyze and figure out what the krauts were up to and maybe how they were doing it. It was just one of many leads he was pursuing, but probably one of the ones his bosses were most interested in¡ªafter all, if they could steal whatever research was being done, then America would have a new weapon in their arsenal. ¡°Mm. Don¡¯t suppose you have some coffee tucked away somewhere, do you?¡± Chuckling, the captain nodded. ¡°Below deck. There¡¯s a small galley with a pot brewed. Be careful though, it¡¯s strong.¡± Yawning, Sam left the cabin and found the stairs leading down into the forward part of the ship, well away from where they stored the fish they caught. Following his nose, he found the galley and grinned as he found an electric coffee maker waiting. Opening a locked cabinet, he raised an eyebrow at the small cups he found. ¡°The hell are these? Shot glasses? Women¡¯s coffee cups?¡± he grunted. Rifling through the drawers, he eventually found a proper, man sized coffee cup and closed everything back up. Pouring a cup, took a sip and immediately choked, then yelped as a splash hit his shirt and burned him. ¡°Fuck!¡± Looking at the cup like it had betrayed him, Sam set it down and cleaned up his shirt as much as it could with a dish towel. Looking around, he found a refrigerator in the corner with a fresh bottle of milk and quickly poured a few splashes in, until it suited his taste. Making his way back to the helm, the captain briefly glanced up as he entered, looking at the cup and the stain on Sam¡¯s shirt and chuckling. ¡°Good stuff, huh?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± Sam sighed, leaning against the wall and watching out the windows, slowly finishing up the cup. It was too long later that he saw open ocean and the captain pulled up to a small dock at the mouth of the river. Sam had enough time to finish off his coffee and for it to kick in, leaving him feeling like he¡¯d drank half a pot, before the captain pointed out the windshield. ¡°There they are.¡± Looking up, Sam spotted another fishing boat¡ªthis one towing a much smaller barge with some kind of equipment on it. Activating his computation orb, he spun up a formula to start recording and taking pictures. After the other boat passed, the captain fired up their own boat and took off after them, setting a course that would see them moving parallel to their target¡¯s course, just at the edge of the horizon. They were miles out to sea when the captain throttled down and brought them to a stop as the other boat passed over the horizon and out of normal sight. ¡°This is it.¡± Opening the door, he called out, ¡°Cast the nets!¡± Sam activated his remote viewing formula and sent his vision ahead, watching as the other boat slowed to a stop and maneuvered the barge into position. Carefully observing the people inside as they began detaching the boat and working on what looked like magical equipment, Sam took photos of them as well to look over later. Small crew for the boat. Two aerial mages belonging to MSF. An old scientist or something. Three assistants. Equipment looks like a magi-radio, a recording device, and some kind of¡­ is that a mana detection array? Mana detection equipment was actually common, but if someone had figured out how to get a magical equivalent of RADAR working for magi-tech, then that was something his superiors would want to know. So, he marked it down as of interest and watched as they finished their setup and eventually lifted something from the barge and lowered it into the water, attached to a buoy. Sam and the captain watched as the boat and barge turned. It looked to be heading back to Bellum, but Sam caught sight of one of the other crew taking out a set of binoculars and looking around. They were spotted quickly and the other boat changed course. ¡°Shit. They saw us.¡± The captain seemed unbothered. ¡°Relax, senor. Just go below and wait.¡± Sam didn¡¯t like it, but he nodded and hurried below deck. He checked his pistol and backup magazine, making sure he was ready if things went south, then leaned against the wall beside the door leading back up and waited, cutting his spying formula and praying the other mages didn¡¯t do an active sweep. A few minutes later, he heard engines approach and their pitch change as they slowed. ¡°Guten tag, gentlemen!¡± a boisterous man¡¯s voice called from the other boat. ¡°Good morning, senor,¡± the captain called back. ¡°Can we help you?¡± ¡°Actually, we¡¯re here to help you,¡± the first man laughed. ¡°I guess the harbor master didn¡¯t get the word out quickly enough this morning. You see, we¡¯re conducting dangerous tests out here. Life threatening, even! Now, we can¡¯t force you to leave the area, but I strongly urge you to follow us to the minimum safe distance. I don¡¯t want to be responsible for any deaths, but, well¡­ accidents happen, you know!¡± ¡°More blasting?¡± the captain asked. ¡°Oh yes. A very big blast this time. Much larger than anything we¡¯ve done to date. So, for your own safety, please come with us. You can certainly choose not to, of course, but if you do I¡¯ll need you to sign these waivers. You see, my boss gets kind of¡­ unreasonable about what she calls ¡®wasting human resources¡¯ and ¡®avoidable civilian casualties due to negligence.¡¯ If you died, she would take away my budget! Again! Then it would be a whole rigmarole of allegations, and investigations, and safety inspectors,¡± the sheer disdain in those two words made Sam wince in sympathy, ¡°and I just don¡¯t want to go through the punishment that is her process. It¡¯s a headache I¡¯d like to live without! Surely you understand?¡±This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°Haha. Sure, sure,¡± the captain chuckled. ¡°Alright, men! Haul it in! I want us ready to leave in ten minutes!¡± His next comment was directed at the scientist at Sam¡¯s guess. ¡°Blast that big is going to upset the fish for miles.¡± ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sorry. Hang on. One of you. Yes, you! Take down the captain¡¯s information, then get him a reimbursement form for the day when we get back.¡± Sam listened as things devolved into idle chatter as the fishermen brought in the nets. Eventually, the two boats¡¯ engines started up again and they began moving. A moment later, there was a soft knock on the door. Sam lowered his pistol and one of the men poked his head in. ¡°Sir, captain says you can come up, but stay low. We¡¯re behind the other boat, so you can sit behind the pilothouse and you¡¯ll be fine.¡± Nodding, Sam tucked away his gun and came out on deck, taking a seat and waiting. Eventually, the radio came to life in the pilothouse. A moment later, the captain opened the door and stuck his head out. ¡°Everyone below deck!¡± As the crew scrambled below, the captain looked to Sam. ¡°That was doctor Schugel. He said not to look directly behind us or you¡¯ll go blind. And to cover your ears. They¡¯ll set it off any minute now.¡± ¡°Thanks,¡± Sam called, pulling his sun glasses on and getting ready to cover his ears. Checking to make sure his orb was recording, Sam activated a second formula to detect and measure mana output. A few moments later, the radio came to life again. Ten seconds later, a bright flash on the horizon behind them made Sam wince. Very quickly, water filled the air¡ªa geyser that erupted thousands of feet into the sky. His mana detection formula whited out and to his magical senses, it was like standing in a furnace made of mana. It hurt, like looking into the sun, but he couldn¡¯t look away because there was no way to turn down his mana sensitivity. Through the pain, Sam stared. It felt like his heart stopped as he watched it all unfold in what looked like the world moving through molasses. A visible distortion traveled through the air and, a moment later, he felt the impact like a whole body punch as the blast wave hit. He jerked as the windows of the pilothouse shattered, throwing glass all over. This is it. This is what wiped out that fleet. Fuck me, we were right! The krauts got to it first. Sam sat stunned, staring in open-mouthed shock and slowly mounting horror as his mind processed what he was seeing and applied it to a battlefield¡ªand then made the leap to a city. For a moment, he felt sick¡ªhorrified, even¡ªbefore it was swept away with anger. The Germans were down here testing some kind of new super weapon, right in America¡¯s back yard! This was a threat so much larger and more immediate than the commies. Sure, commies taking the Panama canal and infecting South America with their ideology would be a long term nightmare and a big problem for everyone, but that was in a year for the first and decades for the second. They had time to deal with that. Or they would, except Sam was looking at a weapon that could wipe out large sections of major cities. They had no time when the enemy could just fly over and drop one on the White House. Or send one up on a boat and sneak it into the country, put it in a truck, and park it somewhere in D.C.. There wouldn¡¯t be a future for his country if their enemies had weapons like this¡ªweapons capable of destruction en masse¡ªand America didn¡¯t, to balance the scales. And America couldn¡¯t allow some other country, let alone some pissant third world nobodies, have a gun pointed to their collective heads. But then, that was the problem, wasn¡¯t it. This so-called ¡®Military Without Borders¡¯ claimed to be a private army, a mercenary company who would hire out their services to the highest bidder. But that wasn¡¯t what Sam saw. No, he saw a bunch of German patriots using another country¡¯s resources to finish up research on a German super weapon¡ªsomething that would have ended the war decisively in the Germans¡¯ favor but which had come too late to prevent their surrender. But that first test that had taken out one of their fleets was a warning. And now, they had what they needed to threaten America and the rest of their allies into backing off and granting concessions¡ªperhaps even putting a stop entirely to the war crime trials and reversing the decisions already made behind closed doors to blame and bill the Germans for everything. Germany would take America¡¯s place as the biggest player on the world stage¡ªas the one who set policy and everyone else was forced to obey. They couldn¡¯t let that happen. I have to get back and send someone. Get the word out. They have to send someone down here to deal with this and clean it up. A thought occurred and Sam nearly groaned. The Federation sent people to invade. Aerial mages. If they get here first, I don¡¯t think even the Jerries here can hold that many off. Then, these bombs will go straight into the hands of the Federation. Fuck! Germany just wants everyone to back the hell off. They¡¯re reasonable enough not to actually use one unless we force them to. The Russy will absolutely use them if they have them and we don¡¯t. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I¡¯ll just fly back¡ª Sam froze as the mana pressure abruptly let up. Movement caught his eye and he looked up, to see an aerial mage flying overhead, towards the still rising column of water. Long blonde hair and the small stature left little doubt as to just who it was. She stopped and hovered in the air and, as Sam watched, the air began to shimmer before streamers of blue light began to condense and flow towards her. It took a minute but, as the sensation of burning alive in mana faded completely and his formula stopped reading beyond the scale, Sam realized what he was seeing. The blue light? That was all of the excess mana lingering in the air, condensing like water vapor into clouds. And all of it was now rushing towards the young woman just floating there, where it disappeared inside her. She was absorbing enough mana that Sam was pretty sure that if he hadn¡¯t left soon, it would have killed him just from being around it. The readings! He realized, casting his mind to his formula and finding what he¡¯d suspected. A sharp uptick in local mana and then a sudden drop. Of course, being on top of it, that ¡®uptick¡¯ was huge. He bet that if he had measuring equipment on the shore, it would read the same as it had for every test since. Which meant¡ª No, that¡¯s not possible. The Devil is good, but she¡¯s not capable of just swallowing that much mana herself. No one is. They¡¯d fucking explode long before they got even a fraction of that mana in. She¡¯s gotta be storing it in something. Some new computation orb capable of fixing mana. She¡¯s just like any other mage¡ªjust one wearing a super weapon. Disarm her and she¡¯s working off the same limitations the rest of us are. And then we¡¯d have that computation orb full of mana. We could give it to one of our troops and make them a monster¡ª Wait. Is that how she did it? Has she had it this whole time? It¡¯d explain some things¡ª Sam¡¯s thoughts abruptly cut off as the blonde finished siphoning off the excess mana and turned back the way she¡¯d come from. She paused, looking down at them, and though Sam couldn¡¯t see it from this distance, he could feel her eyes on him. He felt her mana briefly reach out, pinging him specifically in a narrow band ping that Sam hadn¡¯t thought was even possible, given the level of control over one¡¯s own mana it would require. She shot forward and down and Sam stood as he realized she was coming for him. Bending down, he collected the hat that had been blown off his head and put it back on before straightening up. Okay, just relax. So she felt I¡¯m a mage. I¡¯ll just say I was injured in a training accident or something and moved into the private sector. The blonde touched down on the deck of the ship just a few feet from him. Silver-blue eyes met Sam¡¯s darker blue through his sun glasses. She smiled, and Sam felt a shiver run down his spine. It really was like looking into the eyes of some kind of predator, sizing him up and having the absolute certainty that she could eat him if she wanted and it wouldn¡¯t even be a fight. It was so much worse seeing it in person. ¡°Good morning.¡± The Devil brushed a lock of windswept blonde hair out of her face and strode forward, offering a hand. Sam looked it at it like he¡¯d look at a snake. The blonde frowned minutely, raising an eyebrow. Sam forced himself to move and took her hand. It didn¡¯t feel at all like touching a snake. It was as smooth as any woman¡¯s hand he¡¯d ever held, but at the same time it was like grabbing a live wire. Mana roared just below her skin, the intensity of it making his flesh tingle and his mana recoil instinctively inside himself as he felt a faint tug on it. ¡°Morning,¡± Sam managed to get out. ¡°You know,¡± she began, releasing his hand as the smile returned, ¡°you¡¯ve been a bit impolite since coming to my country. You should have at least introduced yourself first. Perhaps offered to take me to dinner.¡± Blinking, Sam was momentarily confused. ¡°Excuse me?¡± ¡°Of course,¡± the blonde nodded magnanimously. ¡°It¡¯s understandable. You¡¯ve been very busy, after all.¡± Her tone turned teasing as she continued, ¡°It probably slipped your mind, between all the diving through our trash, poking around our island, and following my people.¡± Sam felt his blood run cold and he opened his mouth to protest, to give his cover story, but she cut him off. ¡°This must be embarrassing for you but don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m sure it happens to all the three letter agency spies at some point. I am General Tanya von Degurechaff, Brasa Army, Mage Corps. And you are Agent Samuel Singer, field operative for the American Central Intelligence Agency.¡± Seeing that she had him dead to rights, Sam reached behind his back and drew his pistol, bringing it up and pointing it in her face as he primed a standard armor penetrating formula¡ªas opposed to the explosive formula he really wanted to use, but couldn¡¯t if he didn¡¯t want to kill everyone on the boat. His pistol was steady as he looked at her over the sights, the blade of the front sight leveled on her right eye. ¡°How the fuck do you know that?¡± ¡°Now that¡¯s just rude,¡± she huffed. A moment later, the blonde moved¡ªmuch faster than anything Sam had ever come up against in training. She grabbed the pistol and shoved it up, before twisting his arm and forcing it out of his hand. He was reaching for his knife when she spun and pulled, jerking him over her shoulder and tossing him into the deck with a force that knocked the wind from his lungs. Sam found her small fingers twisting the knife out of his grasp as she fell into the middle of his back, planting her knee in his spine as she jerked both arms up behind his back. Sam struggled to break free, only to freeze when his knife buried itself in the deck right in front of his eyes, blade facing towards him, and she released one of his hands to grab him by his short hair and shove his head towards the knife. She only stopped when it touched the space between his eyes¡ªhis eyelashes touching the blade when he blinked just once, before he didn¡¯t feel it again. From the faint but compact mana on it, he realized she had lined just part of the edge with a mage blade¡ªone wrong move and he¡¯d be getting the last shave of his life. General Degurechaff sighed from her position above him. ¡°We could have had this conversation over dinner in a nice restaurant like civilized professionals, showing each other common courtesies and mutual respect. Instead, now we get to have it here, with you at the edge of my blade.¡± Taking a breath, Sam grunted out, ¡°Fine. What the fuck do you want?¡± ¡°What do I want?¡± she echoed, sounding confused. ¡°Mr. Singer, what I want hadn¡¯t changed since I allowed you to listen in to our briefing and planning session aboard the Ingrid¡ªat least, it hadn¡¯t until you pulled your sidearm on me and showed me that you aren¡¯t willing to speak as equals, but feel the need to always have the upper hand in any negotiation. So, to reiterate what I said then: I want a place to live, free of war, corruption, and the depredations, depravity, death, and destruction that comes with living under a communist regime¡ªand I want to be paid to do it. ¡°As for my new demands, I want you and your people to keep their noses out of our business if you can¡¯t understand such basic principles as courtesy and manners. And I want you personally on the first plane out of my country. Consider yourself under arrest and summary judgment rendered for assault with a deadly weapon. You are to be deported immediately. Don¡¯t worry about finding a flight yourself, I¡¯ll provide you transport back to the States.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t just¡ª¡± Sam began, only to shut up as she jerked his head just slightly. ¡°I¡¯ll think you¡¯ll find that I can, in fact, just. Now, you can either walk under your own power and under armed guard, or I can have you shipped back in pieces small enough to fit into your trunk. The choice is yours¡ªbut make no mistake, it is a choice and your next actions and words will determine which you choose.¡± ¡°Fine. Yeah. Okay. I¡¯ll go. Just let me up,¡± Sam grunted. ¡°Good man,¡± the young woman above him nodded. She released his head and arm and climbed off of him, allowing Sam to collect his knife and pistol and put them away. Holding out her hand, she demanded, ¡°Your computation orb.¡± Sam hesitated and she added, ¡°It will be returned to you upon arrival in America.¡± Sighing, Sam dug into his pocket and fished out his orb, handing it over. General Degurechaff opened the front cover and studied it for a few moments, probing it with her mana, before snorting. Sam worried she might delete his recordings but, to his surprise, she didn¡¯t. Instead, she waved over doctor Schugel¡¯s two guards from the other boat, who flew over and landed beside them. She handed off his orb to one of them and began giving orders. ¡°Escort our guest to his current place of residence and allow him to collect his things, then take him to the air field. You will accompany him on his flight back and only return that when he steps off of the plane. His female companion can stay or go with him, I don¡¯t care which. If he gives you any trouble, deal with it.¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am!¡± both men saluted, before grabbing Sam by the elbows and lifting him up off the boat, moving him to the one the doctor was using. Sam watched as she left and the boat started up. The guards watched him like a hawk, but they didn¡¯t stop him when he began examining the equipment set up on the boat. ¡°Curious?¡± the mad scientist asked, a grin crossing his lips. ¡°A bit, yeah.¡± That was an understatement. The more he could get out of them, the better. His cover was blown and he was being kicked out, so he needed to be able to tell the next guy sent down where to start looking, and tell his bosses what they needed to hear. ¡°That bomb back there. Pure mana?¡± ¡°Yes!¡± Schugel grinned. ¡°Not a trace of conventional explosives. I¡¯ve been experimenting a bit and I¡¯ve discovered something quite remarkable, you see. It turns out that at the scale we¡¯re operating at, converting mana into a formula¡ªsuch as an explosive formula¡ªis less efficient than simply setting off an explosion of raw mana! Who would have thought?¡± The man laughed, before touching something at his wrist¡ªsome kind of bracelet made of local beads like the ones Sam had seen in the market, except that looking closer, he realized they were elinium beads. ¡°She did!¡± the doctor answered his own question with a mad grin. ¡°Ah~ such a visionary! But never mind that! I¡¯m sure your superiors will want to have more precise data!¡± Schugel took out a notepad and began scribbling. ¡°Give them this, when you get back.¡± Sam stared at the man, wondering which of them had gone insane. ¡°¡­Why would you just give out information like this?¡± ¡°Hm? Why do you think Gen. von Degurechaff is sending you back? It¡¯s so you can tell them what you¡¯ve learned. If you say you saw an explosion, they¡¯ll ask how large. Conventional mana measurement formulas don¡¯t account for that much mana, so to your formula it would have looked like it peaked the scale. This is a formula to convert it into numbers it can understand. Of course, they¡¯re going to look at the readings. Hand them over to my counterparts. And when they see the actual numbers¡­ Heh,¡± the doctor grinned. ¡°Then and only then will they understand the scale we¡¯re operating at.¡± ¡°Yes, but why help the enemy?¡± Schugel sent Sam a look that questioned his intelligence. ¡°I thought it was obvious. Aren¡¯t you supposed to be some stripe of secret agent? Don¡¯t they teach you people how to think for yourselves? Bah!¡± Shaking his head, Schugel¡¯s speech slowed and he spoke louder, as though talking to an idiot. ¡°People don¡¯t understand big numbers by themselves. If I say twenty megatons you¡¯ll have no idea what that actually means. But that gun in your holster? You understand that. A bomb dropping from a plane, the explosion you saw¡ªyou understand those. Because you¡¯ve seen what they can do.¡± Sam thought on it a moment and eventually, it clicked. He understood. The general wanted them to know, because she wanted to show them just how big the gun she had pointed at them was, if they did something she didn¡¯t like. Well fuck her. We¡¯re not just going to roll over and take it. The little bitch has to sleep some time. 22 A Young Girl¡¯s Outer Heaven 22
Commissioned by kyo amamoto.
¡°I¡¯m sorry, miss Tatiana. This is all I could spare,¡± mister Borodin apologized as he hurried into her quarters and put down a tray containing some kind of soup and a pot of tea. There wasn¡¯t anything extra with it¡ªnot even any bread. ¡°It¡¯s fine, Mr. Borodin,¡± she sent him a smile. ¡°I don¡¯t need much food. Really! This much is good enough.¡± The man sighed. Hesitantly, he reached out and laid a hand on top of her head. ¡°You¡¯re a good girl, Tatiana.¡± She smiled and, after a moment, mister Borodin gathered her old tray and plate and left. Locking the door behind him, she inspected the food and winced. ¡°Well, at least it¡¯s not beets,¡± she murmured, moving over to her trunk full of books. Quickly extracting a single loaf along with some dried apple chips, she tore a third of the bread off and put it back, after looking to see how much she had left. ¡°Three days worth¡­¡± That would run out three days before they made it to shore at full speed, at least from what Borodin had told her. The bombs had destroyed the ships carrying the fuel for their equipment and the majority of their food stores¡ªthat which wasn¡¯t stored in all of the other ships. According to mister Borodin, the state didn¡¯t like wasting resources keeping their ships stocked full of months worth of food, so they only left port with just barely more than they needed to do whatever it was they were supposed to do and get back to be restocked. Which meant that with the destruction of their supply ships, all of the extra food they had brought to feed the mages and regular troops was gone and they now had thousands of mouths to feed with barely enough food to feed the crew of each ship just long enough to make it to their destination. Rationing was being strictly enforced and even the officers and important people like her ¡®papa¡¯ were being forced to tighten their belts. Tatiana was barely an afterthought, since she wasn¡¯t someone important. She wasn¡¯t a member of any of the crews or a soldier, but that man¡¯s pet as she had heard spoken in the hall outside the room once as men passed by. In fact, Tatiana was almost certain that Mr. Borodin was giving her one of his own daily two meals out of the kindness of his heart. Tatiana was hungry, but she had planned ahead so she wasn¡¯t starving. As farmers, her family had been through a lean winter or two that she could remember, so she had the good sense to save what she could just in case and use what she had sparingly. She had even taken the peels from what little fruit they had, which had run out early in the journey, and asked mister Borodin to put them in the oven for her to dry them out. He hadn¡¯t asked what she wanted it for, but had gladly done so, so at least she had that. Today¡¯s meal was bone broth, tiny little slivers of onions, and just enough chicken to taste. Tatiana ate it all and used her bread to wipe the bowl clean, getting every drop she could out of it. Once she finished off her apple chips and cup of tea, she went to the window and her latest drawing. Picking up the hand mirror she had, she looked over her shoulder at the bathroom mirror she had taken down and moved to the wall directly behind her, sticking it there with the magnets on the back of it. Looking at herself in the mirrors, she went back to drawing herself, drawing herself. It was much later in the day when she heard a commotion down the hall and the sounds of yelling. Standing, she pressed her ear to the door and listened. When she couldn¡¯t make it out any better, she opened the door a crack and stuck her head out. She heard yelling in Russy down the hall and frowned. ¡°¡ªtelling you, comrade! I haven¡¯t been hoarding food!¡± ¡°We¡¯ll see about that, ¡®comrade.¡¯ Now, stand aside!¡± ¡°Absolutely not! I am a superior officer and you will not¡ªoof!¡± Tatiana winced at the sound of someone being struck repeatedly as one of the other men began yelling, ¡°Rank has nothing to do with it! We¡¯re starving! This is about survival!¡± ¡°Found it!¡± someone called. A moment later, the man who had been beaten began to squeal. ¡°No! Let me go! I demand you let me go! Where are you taking me?!¡± ¡°Topside. Those who hoard food away from the rest of us go overboard!¡± Tatiana went wide-eyed and quietly closed and locked the door. Looking around her room, she forced herself not to panic. They¡¯re going to search my room. If they find the bread, they¡¯ll throw me off the ship. That¡¯s, that¡¯s not fair! I saved it because I was thinking of the future! You can¡¯t just¡ª! Taking a breath, she moved over to her trunk and opened it, then quickly removed the bread and apple chips and put everything in the trunk back as it should be. Looking around for somewhere to hide it, she spotted her pillow. Jerking the case off, she tossed her food inside and opened the cabin¡¯s window. Shoving her pillow case outside, she closed the window with just a corner of the case sticking out inside¡ªjust enough for her to grab and pull it back in. They¡¯ll see it! She realized as she stood back and looked at it. Taking another look around, she spied the bathroom mirror. Hurrying over, she grabbed it off the wall and moved it to beside the window. She had just gotten it into place when someone banged at her door. ¡°Open up!¡± ¡°Eep!¡± Tatiana yelped. Moving away from the window, she checked her handiwork, then made her way to the door. ¡°I, I¡¯m sorry! I was told by papa Loria that I¡¯m not supposed to open the door for anyone but him, mister Borodin, or the captain.¡± ¡°Open this damned door right now or when we do get it open, you¡¯ll be sorry!¡± someone threatened from the other side. Wincing, Tatiana opened the door and yelped again as she was grabbed and jerked out into the hallway. ¡°Move it, you little leech! What are you hiding in here, huh?! What has comrade Loria been giving you?¡± ¡°W-what? Nothing!¡± Tatiana answered, then whimpered as the person grabbing her arm slapped her across the face and tossed her to the ground. ¡°Stay there,¡± the man demanded as two others moved into her room and began to search. Looking on through the open door, Tatiana started to move forward when they pulled the trunk out from under her bed, but the man above her raised his fist. ¡°No! Please! Not that one!¡± ¡°So that¡¯s where you¡¯re keeping the food?¡± the soldier above her sneered. Tatiana turned her face away as the men opened the case and dumped it onto the bed. Silence fell in the room. Curious about the sudden stop to the search, the man above her turned back towards the room. ¡°Well? What did you find?¡± ¡°Sir, um. You should come see this,¡± one of the men mumbled. ¡°Please, don¡¯t,¡± the blonde whimpered curling in on herself more. The soldier snorted and stormed into the room, only to stop dead and fall silent himself. A moment later, she heard the three of them leave in silence, hurrying away down the corridor. Looking up, Tatiana waited until they were gone before wiping her face and standing. Heading back into the room, she locked the door behind her and retrieved her pillow case. Only after she had put her food back in its hiding place did she consider the contents of the trunk. She started to put them back in the trunk, only to still as she realized she had an opportunity here. Quickly, she threw everything into the trunk and closed it up. Then, opening the door, she poked her head out and cautiously looked both ways. Not seeing anyone, she hurried silently down the corridor carrying the trunk, until she came to the door leading outside. Cracking it open, she peeked out and saw only more of the soldiers moving around the ship searching for food¡ªnone of the sailors were visible. Slipping outside, she rushed to the edge of the ship. Making sure she wasn¡¯t being watched, she flung the trunk overboard. Tatiana didn¡¯t stick around to watch it hit the water, no matter how satisfying that might have been. Instead, she hurried back to her room and locked up. After taking a few moments to use the wash room to wash her hands after handling the disgusting box and then clean her face from the tears, she settled back in to her drawing. As her pencil swept over the paper, Tatiana¡¯s mind raced and she tried to come up with a story that sounded believable. ¡®I¡¯m sorry, papa! They made me let them in, then searched the whole room. When they found the case, they¡­ they said some mean things about you and then took it. They said they were going to throw it over.¡¯ Hm. No. Not her enough. He¡¯ll get bored. So, put on the uniform then¡­ then demand an apology for poor treatment of a guest at the hands of the men under his command. He should keep them on a shorter leash. And then, tell him we¡¯ll just have to make do with what we have. Maybe¡­ yes. Demand his belt and tell him he needs to be punished for this failure. As disgusting as her ¡®papa¡¯ was, the man was actually amazingly simple to understand. To manipulate. That didn¡¯t make him any less awful or dangerous, however. Just wait. Wait, watch, and listen. And when I get my chance, I can¡¯t hesitate. I¡¯ll only get one chance, and if I fail, I¡¯ll end up like all the others before me.
Putting down his coffee cup, Director Donovan sighed. Looking around the table, he made sure everyone was there before turning his attention on Sam. ¡°Alright Agent Singer, what was so urgent that couldn¡¯t wait until morning and absolutely required a face to face meeting?¡± ¡°And what the hell are you doing back in D.C.? I thought I sent you to South America?¡± Sam looked around the room at the men in charge of the Company. They all wore looks ranging from disgruntled, to irate, to pissed as they sat around the table and sipped coffee at the ungodly hour of just past two in the morning. Standing up, Sam activated his computation orb and projected an illusion formula. ¡°I¡¯ll let the recordings speak for me.¡± With that, he began to play the videos. First, the explosion. Even watching it in a hologram, it was still unnerving to see. Sam felt a bit better about it that he wasn¡¯t the only one who had reacted poorly, as the color drained from the faces of everyone there. One of them dropped the coffee cup he had been raising to his lips. The cup hit the edge of the table and fell to the floor, where it shattered and sent coffee and ceramic shards everywhere. No one noticed. Quietly, the Director Donovan spoke up. ¡°We have to alert the Joint Chiefs of Staff. The President. Everyone. Start making phone calls. Get them out of bed and bring them in. And find someone who can analyze this. Those orbs take readings. We need to know exactly what it saw, pronto.¡± There was dead silence. The former general raised his voice. ¡°Am I talking to a wall? Move your asses!¡± Several people left the room at once and the Director turned back to Sam. ¡°I take it that wasn¡¯t all. You could¡¯ve sent someone to deliver it.¡± ¡°No, sir,¡± Sam shook his head. ¡°Keep watching.¡± Their attention turned back to the recording, which was still ongoing. A moment later, someone asked, ¡°Is that a mage?¡± ¡°It is,¡± Sam confirmed. ¡°My recordings and personal observations showed that this was a mana-based bomb of some sort, which was later confirmed and is on video as such, by Dr. Schugel.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a name I didn¡¯t think we¡¯d hear again,¡± came a quiet murmur. Sam continued, ignoring the interruption. ¡°My readings will show that when she showed up, the mana concentration in the area abruptly dropped. It is my belief that the Germans discovered a way to fix mana in place and store it for later. So they set off a mana bomb, then she comes in and cleans up the excess mana to keep it from showing on our sensors later on. I barely detected the detonations during the week I was there, and I was less than a hundred miles from them. What¡¯s left over after she absorbs it all would fade into the background ambient mana and be undetectable to anyone much further away than that.¡± ¡°So then, who is she?¡± the Director asked. ¡°We¡¯re getting to that.¡± Sam held up a hand and waited. A moment later, she zoomed straight for him in the video. Then, there she was¡ªthe Devil herself, in the flesh. Or, at least, a recording of her at any rate. A quiet whisper was the only sound in the room for just a moment. ¡°The Devil of the Rhine.¡± Then, she began to speak. ¡°Good morning.¡± The room listened, several of them taking notes as she introduced herself, putting a name to the face. To Sam¡¯s surprise, no one actually seemed surprised at that and he had to wonder why. He did notice a few annoyed glances sent his way at her ribbing him over getting caught, and made a mental note to find a way to cover his ass later. ¡°Wait,¡± one of the people at the table asked, as Sam¡¯s orb was confiscated and turned over to one of the enemy mages. ¡°Why is the recording still running if you aren¡¯t supplying it mana?¡± The answer to that was simple and one Sam hadn¡¯t liked when he discovered it, upon landing and checking his footage. ¡°Because she wanted it to record.¡± ¡°So you¡¯re saying she just showed her hand, intentionally? Cocky.¡± The Director shook his head, before eyeing some of the higher ranking men at the table. ¡°Not cocky. Confident.¡± ¡°Sir? Is there something you¡¯re not telling us?¡± Sam watched and listened as it became obvious that the Director and everyone at the top level knew something everyone else didn¡¯t. The Director confirmed it a moment later. ¡°That information is above your pay grade.¡± Once more, he focused on Sam. ¡°Go home. Get some sleep. I want your full report on my desk in the morning. Consider yourself on leave for the rest of the week, but stay in town. Keep yourself available to answer questions on things the orb might not have picked up.¡± ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Sam nodded. Taking off his orb, he asked, ¡°Do you want it now, or¡­?¡± ¡°Now,¡± the Director held out his hand and Sam moved around the table to hand it over. ¡°Go down to the armory and have them issue you a spare for now.¡± Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Sam left the room quickly, closing the door behind him. Turning to the others, Director Donovan said, ¡°Everyone below director level clearance, leave the room.¡± Several people made to protest, but he cut them off. ¡°Now.¡± Once the room was secure, he turned to the half a dozen other people in charge of running various aspects of their little organization. ¡°That all but confirms it, people. You all were there for Thompson¡¯s report, and now we¡¯ve got video proof.¡± The general tapped the orb sitting on the table in front of him. ¡°It¡¯s a fucking magical Sword of Damocles over the heads of everyone above the equator, and it could fall at any moment and start wiping out cities, and we¡¯d have no warning. This is going straight to the top, but we need something to tell the President. We need options.¡± Turning, Director Donovan glared at one of the men across the table. ¡°And Wilson? I don¡¯t care what it takes. How much money you have to offer him. How much you have to kiss his ass. You¡¯re the reason he¡¯s gone, so you¡¯re going to get him back. Thompson¡¯s the closest thing we have to an expert on von Degurechaff. If he isn¡¯t in the Cabinet Room at 0800, you¡¯ll be out on your ass.¡± ¡°But sir¡ª¡± ¡°No buts. Get it done.¡±
¡°Thanks, hon,¡± Jack kissed his wife as she handed him a cup of coffee. ¡°Bye mom, bye dad!¡± Jack Jr. called as he left the house at a run, heading for the bus waiting at the end of the driveway. Watching their son go, the couple sat down at the table to plates of breakfast and Jack raised an eyebrow as Andrea smiled. He nearly jumped when her bare foot touched his inner thigh. ¡°I want another one.¡± Jack just barely avoided choking on his coffee. ¡°So soon? Jack only just started kindergarten.¡± ¡°That makes this the perfect time for it.¡± Frowning, Jack thought about it as he ate. After a few minutes, he asked, ¡°Are we really in a good place for that now? I¡¯ve got some savings, but the job market is flooded with people coming back from the war. I¡¯ve got a few bites, but nothing solid so far.¡± ¡°Mm. I¡¯m sure. Don¡¯t lose hope. God will provide,¡± Andrea smiled. ¡°Let¡¯s wait until after he provides before making a decision.¡± His wife nodded, but didn¡¯t stop playing footsie under the table. Not that Jack minded. As much as he enjoyed his work, the hours were long and he didn¡¯t get to spend as much time with his wife and son as he¡¯d like. And as frustrating as not having work and a steady income to provide for his family was, he couldn¡¯t say he hadn¡¯t enjoyed catching up with them. Andrea had been especially affectionate lately¡­ Oh, Jack realized, looking up at the smiling woman eating across from him. She¡¯s already pregnant, isn¡¯t she? It was that realization that pushed him to finish up his breakfast quickly and head to his study. Digging through his address book full of contacts, he began marking down who would be best to call on for a favor. He hadn¡¯t wanted to rely on calling in a favor to get a new job, especially when a lot of them worked in military related jobs and moved in the same circles, so hiring him when he was blacklisted by his former employer might cause them problems, but a baby already on the way changed things. Just as he was finishing up, the phone rang. Absently, Jack reached over and pulled it off the hook. ¡°Thompson residence.¡± ¡°Jack. This is Chief Wilson.¡± ¡°Oh, good morning, Bob,¡± Jack grinned, knowing how much the man hated that. Sure enough, Jack could hear the frown as Wilson said, ¡°That¡¯s ¡®Chief Wilson¡ª¡¯¡± ¡°It was while I worked for you, Bob. You had me fired for, what was it again? ¡®Indulging crazy conspiracy theories?¡¯ So, it¡¯s either Bob or it¡¯s nothing, and I hang up. And I can only assume you¡¯re calling because you actually need something now and Director Donovan told you to do whatever it takes to get it. So. How can I help the CIA, Bob?¡± Wilson took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ¡°I was wrong.¡± Jack blinked at that. Frowning, he sat up a bit straighter. ¡°Excuse me?¡± ¡°I was wrong. I apologize.¡± Slowly, Jack felt dread creeping up. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s serious.¡± ¡°Quite,¡± Wilson drawled. ¡°Some new evidence has some to light and, well. You were right.¡± For just a moment, all Jack could hear was the dull roar of blood and a faint ringing in his ears. After a few moments to process that, he asked, ¡°Why are you calling me, then?¡± ¡°The Director wants to offer you your old job back. He needs you for a briefing in the White House, by 0800.¡± Jack glanced at the clock and scoffed. ¡°That¡¯s forty-five minutes from now. With traffic¡ª¡± ¡°You¡¯re a mage. Fly there. Land on the street in front of the entrance we use and it should be fine. So, can I count on you?¡± Narrowing his eyes, Jack considered for a moment before grinning. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I was scheduled for an interview at that time. They were offering me more than double what you were paying me for my old salary, plus benefits¡ª¡± ¡°We¡¯ll match it,¡± Wilson agreed, entirely too quickly. Jack continued on as if Wilson hadn¡¯t just tipped his hand about how desperate he was. ¡°¡ªand with better hours. Five days a week, seven hours a day plus paid lunch. A month paid vacation and a month¡¯s sick leave. Two days off minimum for holidays and two weeks each for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years. Can you believe it?¡± There was a pause on the other end, before Wilson grunted. ¡°Like I said, we¡¯ll match it.¡± ¡°Match it, huh? I don¡¯t know, Bob. I mean, you kind of soured me on the Company. Also, I just found out my wife¡¯s pregnant. I¡¯ve got to plan for the future, you know. I¡¯d need a bit more pay.¡± Making a frustrated noise, Wilson caved. ¡°Fine. Twenty-five percent raise¡ª¡± ¡°Twenty-five percent of my new salary.¡± ¡°Yes, damnit.¡± Jack nodded, though he knew Wilson couldn¡¯t see it. ¡°Sounds good, Chief Wilson. I¡¯ll tell you what. Meet me at the entrance with the new paperwork ready for me to sign and you¡¯ve got yourself a deal.¡± ¡°Fine, yes. My secretary will be outside. We¡¯ll be waiting in the Cabinet Room.¡± With that, Wilson hung up. Laughing, Jack put the phone in the cradle and stood. Grabbing his coat, he pulled it on and made his way towards the front door. ¡°Hon! I¡¯m going out! Looks like I¡¯ve got my old job back!¡± ¡°That¡¯s great news!¡± he heard her call from the direction of the laundry room. ¡°Tell me all about it when you get back!¡± Jack collected his keys and headed outside, before taking to the air¡ªmaking sure to accelerate slowly. He didn¡¯t have any problems flying, it was only pulling tight maneuvers that he was banned from, at the advisement of every doctor he¡¯d spoken with. He had almost sworn off of flying altogether after the accident, but part of his self-imposed rehabilitation after they told him he¡¯d never be able to walk again was to get back in the air¡ªand he was glad he hadn¡¯t given up on it. The flight to his old office was much shorter than the drive and soon enough, he was being handed his old ID badge and office keys back by Earl and waved through security. Hurrying down to his office, Jack thankfully found everything just as he¡¯d left it. Not quite certain exactly what he would need, and knowing much of it was on his computation orb anyway, he only grabbed the essentials¡ªnamely, the latest information about the satellites and his own personal profile he¡¯d been building on the Devil of the Rhine, or at the time Lt. Col. Tanya von Degurechaff as he now knew her to be named. Then, it was a trip back up to the parking lot and a short flight over to the White House. Landing where he¡¯d been instructed, he found Chief Wilson¡¯s secretary waiting just as promised. ¡°Good morning, Rose,¡± Jack sent her a smile. ¡°Morning, Jack,¡± she smiled back, offering a clipboard with several sheets of paper. Jack took a moment to take pictures with his computation orb before signing them and stuffing his copies in the front of the Degurechaff folder. ¡°Thanks Rose.¡± ¡°Sure thing, Jack. I¡¯ll get them filed within the hour. And good luck! They¡¯re uh, they¡¯re not in a good mood.¡± ¡°Yeah, I imagine not,¡± he muttered, shaking his head and going inside. This wasn¡¯t his first trip through these halls, but it was the first time he¡¯d been anything close to the spotlight. The last several times, he had been there just as a junior analyst¡ªessentially just a glorified gofer to make his bosses look more important, fetch coffee, and hold their paperwork. That had been a few years back now however and he was a full analyst now. Okay Jack, just stick to what you know unless someone asks for more. I¡¯ve got Professor Wolfe¡¯s video recorded so I can play that for them if I need to. He showed his badge at the door and was let in by one of the two Secret Service agents on duty outside. As soon as he entered, Director Donovan waved him over to an empty seat beside him. Taking the seat, Jack briefly eyed the man on Donovan¡¯s other side, but thought nothing of it when he didn¡¯t recognize him. Soon enough, President Calvin entered and took a seat at the head of the table. Looking over the table, the man took in everyone there for a moment as he accepted a cup of coffee from a secretary. Soon enough, the room was empty of everyone who didn¡¯t have the necessary security clearance to be there and the doors closed and locked. ¡°I¡¯ve been hearing some very worrying rumors this morning. So, someone please clear this up for me and tell me exactly what is going on.¡± To Jack¡¯s left, Director Donovan waved briefly. ¡°That would be us, Mr. President. Jack, if you would, please tell everyone here what you told us.¡± ¡°Yes sir,¡± Jack nodded and stood. ¡°Last week I received a package in the mail at the office, containing a film reel and a reel of audio tape, along with still photographs taken from an observatory in Pittsburgh. Later that night, I met with retired Capt. Leo King of the U.S. Naval Observatory and confirmed that the information I¡¯d been sent was accurate. I¡¯m going to play back that video for you and I want you to keep in mind that this has been verified multiple times over, both by independent observatories and scientists, and our own people. I¡¯m sure we can get Capt. King on the phone if you¡¯d like to hear from him yourself, afterwards. With that said¡­¡± Jack brought up the video and projected it over the table for everyone to see. He watched their faces as they listened, taking note of who believed what they were seeing and hearing and who he would need to work on convincing. President Calvin, he noticed, maintained a neutral face the whole time¡ªeven as Dr. Wolfe described how easy it would be for one of the theoretical satellite weapons to take out much of the capital and all of them with it. Jack couldn¡¯t get a good read on him, but that was fine. It wasn¡¯t his job to convince the President one way or another, it was just his job to present the information he had. When the video finished, Jack shut it off and continued. ¡°It¡¯s my theory that the disappearance of our fleet in the Atlantic was caused by the test of a prototype of one of these devices, and that the kidnapping of Dr. Schugel¡¯s assistants by the Russy Federation and the doctor¡¯s own disappearance are linked. The morning I gave this briefing, I received evidence that proved that the one who carried out the test was still alive.¡± Jack projected an image of Lt. Col. Tanya von Degurechaff in uniform over the table, followed by one of the pictures taken from the air base where her people had purchased one of their aircraft. ¡°We have a paper trail showing where her people bought several of our bombers, right here in the U.S.. That was barely a day before Dr. Schugel¡¯s disappearance. The day of his disappearance, records show one of those bombers¡ªMurder Inc.¡ªlanding in Germany, and then taking off just behind the plane that was to bring Dr. Schugel here and put him to work under Operation Paperclip. ¡°Despite her age, Lt. Col. von Degurechaff is a highly decorated and extremely competent soldier, and every record we have shows that she trained her people, the Salamander Battle Group, to that same level. Carrying out a mid-air retrieval of a prisoner is well within the capabilities of the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion, which makes up the backbone of Salamander. I have reason to believe that she took Salamander and fled to South America¡ªBrasa, specifically. Since then, they¡¯ve set up shop and Dr. Schugel has continued his work with the V-2 rocket and other wunderweapons. Information gathered from his interrogation and that of his assistants shows that one such weapon was an experimental new computation orb and later, a new line of orbs derived from it. Which is to say that a mana-based bomb launched into space is just the next in the logical chain of progression given what he¡¯s already done.¡± With that, Jack took his seat and dismissed the hologram over the table. As he did, several people began speaking all at once. ¡°This is preposterous!¡± ¡°The mana requirements alone make such a large network of bombs impossible! One maybe, but hundreds? Impossible!¡± ¡°If it¡¯s true, we need to do something¡ª¡± ¡°Do what? Hare off down to South America on a maybe? Have you lost your mind?!¡± Director Donovan raised his voice, speaking over them all. ¡°Agent Singer,¡± he called into the chaos in that Drill Sergeant voice that had every former and current military man, including Jack himself, shutting up and coming to attention sitting. ¡°Your report, please.¡± ¡°Yes sir,¡± the man opposite the Director from Jack answered and stood. ¡°I just returned from Brasa after a run-in with the Devil myself, so I can confirm firsthand that she¡¯s alive and well. As is Dr. Schugel. I met him, too.¡± Singer gestured and a hologram sprang up of the same blonde, who now wore a uniform of the Brasa Army and the stars of a General. Beside her was an image of Dr. Schugel¡ªwearing his lab coat, but under it, a much looser shirt and a pair of shorts, with a straw hat on his head for the sun. ¡°She kicked me out of the country personally, but not before letting me see this.¡± Another illusion joined the first. The doubters fell silent as they watched the explosion. As the video ran, Agent Singer spoke over the audio. ¡°I¡¯d thought that they were just working on some magic-tech jet equivalents,¡± another series of images and videos joined them, of a silvery jet-like aircraft with no visible engines and clearly American bombers that had been retrofitted. ¡°We¡¯ve got the proof right here that they¡¯ve got some kind of super bomb. If we had a super bomb and the ability to send a bunch of them into space, then just send them down on whoever we didn¡¯t like, we wouldn¡¯t hesitate to do it.¡± Another video joined the others and in it, Agent Singer had a conversation with General von Degurechaff at knife-point. ¡°She¡¯s insane. A war criminal and a murderer. And she¡¯s got a gun pointed to our collective heads that can kill tens of thousands at the press of a button.¡± ¡°You¡¯re wrong.¡± The room fell silent and all eyes turned to Jack. For a moment, he wondered what they were all looking at, before realizing he had spoken that aloud. Singer¡¯s jaw flexed and his hands clenched where he stood. ¡°Oh yeah, wise guy? What do you know about the Devil?¡± ¡°She¡¯s intelligent. Highly so. Intelligent, educated, and rational. She operates exactly by the law or regulations where they exist, and where they don¡¯t, she follows what she believes to be reasonable standards and later writes up detailed reports justifying her actions after the fact. That¡¯s if she hadn¡¯t already done so,¡± Jack stood, reaching out and dismissing Singer¡¯s illusion in favor of projecting his own. Each image contained papers he had been able to track down in the documents sent over from Germany, which were then faithfully translated¡ªand all of them written by one Tanya Degurechaff. ¡°She saw the war coming years in advance. It¡¯s why she enlisted voluntarily¡ªbecause that¡¯s the only way to advance past the rank of captain in the Imperial military. Conscripts weren¡¯t allowed to advance further. ¡°Later, she published several papers for their war college. In the first, well before the war had escalated, she was the first person to use the terms Great War, World War, and First World War. Later, she wrote other theoretical papers that would later be used as the basis for things I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve all heard of. Operation Revolving Door? That was her brainchild. Designating all men of ¡®fighting age¡¯ as militants in a combat theater? All her. Do you want to know what her last published papers were about, before she left the Empire? She made three.¡± Jack enlarged the first image. ¡°For the first, the summary was the negative economic and sociological impact of punitive financial measures upon a country and the inevitable progression towards war when those unjust debts are ignored. She knew that we and our allies would stick Germany with the bill for the war and she predicted a Second World War coming from it. The second¡­¡± He brought up the second document. ¡°The title is, The Potential Impacts of Long Term Cold War. It goes on to describe a war where two or more sides constantly build up their forces. Constantly race to compete against each other in all fields. Where the threat of the war going hot is ever present. It describes techniques, terms, and strategies that those of us who have seen behind the Iron Curtain know all too well and names the Russy Federation, followed by the People¡¯s Republic of China, as the next two big threats, but that the real threat and the driving force behind them is the ideological cancer of communism. We knew going in that the Federation were going to turn against the West eventually, but we thought it would be in ten or twenty years. General Degurechaff predicted that it would be immediately after the war. And now, here we are, with the Federation kidnapping the people who worked for the guy who made a bomb that can wipe out cities.¡± Shaking his head, Jack continued. ¡°Finally, the last. Titled: Living in a MAD world. The summary reads: The psychological impact upon a nation and its people of living under the prolonged threat of Mutually Assured Destruction through either nuclear or mana-based weapons and ironically, the safety that it brings.¡± Jack paused to look around the room and noticed that several of the higher ranking military men and the President himself looked uncomfortable at that. ¡°If you¡¯ll read through the last one, you¡¯ll see that she¡¯s not insane. She views what she calls Weapons of Mass Destruction, or WMDs, the same way we view guns. If everyone in this room has a gun on their hip, no one is going to draw because then everyone else will. It¡¯s the old adage, an armed society is a polite society.¡± Agent Singer scoffed. ¡°Yeah sure. But all of that¡¯s just from what you¡¯ve read in paperwork and reports. You¡¯re a desk jockey, Thompson. I work in the field. I¡¯ve met her face to face.¡± He projected the image of General Degurechaff pressing Agent Singer into the deck of a boat over the table again. ¡°Does she look stable to you? Rational?¡± Jack sighed, before pulling up the video himself and playing it back. The General¡¯s words filled the room again. As she spoke, Jack edited the video, cutting out Agent Singer¡¯s own audio. ¡°You know, you¡¯ve been a bit impolite since coming to my country. You should have at least introduced yourself first. Perhaps offered to take me to dinner.¡± ¡°She¡¯s being serious here. Everything we see after shows that she wanted you there.¡± Jack moved forward a bit. ¡°She knew who you were, why you were there, and what you were doing. Her people made you the moment you landed but they left you alone, because she was expecting you to extend professional courtesy. And then, you pulled a gun on her.¡± ¡°Now that¡¯s just rude.¡± Jack sped through the ensuing scuffle. ¡°We could have had this conversation over dinner in a nice restaurant like civilized professionals, showing each other common courtesies and mutual respect. Instead, now we get to have it here, with you at the edge of my blade.¡± ¡°You brought it on yourself, Agent Singer. You drew a weapon on a high ranking military official of a foreign nation. You botched the operation, when she made it clear that she didn¡¯t mind a CIA presence as long as we were polite about it. Which she made clear with this.¡± ¡°Mr. Singer, what I want hadn¡¯t changed since I allowed you to listen in to our briefing and planning session aboard the Ingrid¡ªat least, it hadn¡¯t until you pulled your sidearm on me and showed me that you aren¡¯t willing to speak as equals, but feel the need to always have the upper hand in any negotiation.¡± Jack skipped ahead a bit, ¡°As for my new demands, I want you and your people to keep their noses our of our business if you can¡¯t understand such basic principles as courtesy and manners.¡± ¡°She can be reasoned with. Negotiated with. Now, what I want to know is what¡¯s this about a briefing session? That sounds important.¡± Agent Singer glared at him, but produced another hologram¡ªthis one taken from inside a submarine. ¡°The satellites are real and they can see out of them,¡± he grumbled. ¡°She wants us to pay her to deal with commies coming to take the Panama canal. But we can¡¯t worry about the threat to trade one, five, or ten years down the line when she¡¯s got city-killing weapons of mass destruction right now!¡± ¡°That¡¯s enough,¡± President Calvin cut in. ¡°The reality is that we have to react based on the worst case scenario, not on how we wish things could be. Everyone but the Joint Chiefs clear the room. The rest of you, I want options for dealing with Degurechaff and Schugel.¡± Part of Jack wanted to keep his mouth shut. To just go along, go back to work, and enjoy his new salary. That this had officially become above his pay grade and not his problem. The potential consequences wouldn¡¯t let him. They were about to try to grab the tiger by the tail and it seemed that none of them thought that just leaving the tiger alone was an option. ¡°Sir, you¡¯re making a mistake! Just send someone down to talk to her!¡± Once again, the room went silent. President Calvin looked at Jack for a moment before chuckling and shifting his gaze to Director Donovan. ¡°Make sure you keep him around. We need someone willing to speak up when they think something isn¡¯t right. Unfortunately son,¡± he looked back to Jack, ¡°I¡¯ve made up my mind. The time for talking is over.¡± ¡°Come on, Jack,¡± the Director put a hand on Jack¡¯s arm and guided him from the room. ¡°Let¡¯s go talk about it in my office. Singer, you too.¡± 23 A Young Girl¡¯s Outer Heaven 23
Commissioned by kyo amamoto.
The engines droned loudly as Sam stood and grabbed hold of one of the bars overhead. A red light turned on above, illuminating the inside of the transport plane and the group of eighteen men inside. Looking over them as they looked back at him, Sam eventually nodded. ¡°Alright gentlemen, we¡¯re past the point of no return. Dog tags. Wallets, cash, coins. Cigarette packs¡ªyou can keep your smokes, but the packs have to go. C-Rats. You were all issued Russy equipment for this¡ªif you¡¯ve got any of your normal gear on, it¡¯s gotta go. Anything that can identify you, has your name or Uncle Sam¡¯s on it, pass it to the front,¡± he instructed, and the men began pulling off their tags and passing them forward, along with various other items and money. Sam put it all in a wooden box as it came forward. Once the flow of materials stopped, Sam set the box aside. ¡°Look around you. Look to your left. Look to your right. You may see some familiar faces. Every one of you was chosen because you have something in common. It¡¯s not because you¡¯re mages, or because many of you worked as saboteurs behind enemy lines. Every one of you is single, no children, and with a brother or sister at home who isn¡¯t enlisted. You are all, in a word, expendable. If anything goes wrong, help isn¡¯t coming. You¡¯re up against overwhelming odds in unknown, hostile territory. If you succeed and make it home, these events never happened and you can never speak of them; you will not be rewarded or thanked and no one can ever know you were here. If you get captured or killed, the United States will deny your existence. For some of you, this may be a one-way ticket. And I know this doesn¡¯t make that any easier to swallow, but I promise that it is worth it. The future of our nation depends upon the success of this mission. Failure is not an option.¡± Tapping into his computation orb, he created a hologram in front of him, showing their destination. ¡°This is the city of Bellum, in Brasa, South America. This,¡± he zoomed in and highlighted an island situated in a river to the west of the city, ¡°is Colina, where our targets are holed up in an old barracks that¡¯s recently been renovated. You¡¯ll be air dropping just outside of the village of Santa Maria, thirteen miles to the west, across Marajo Bay. These are the enemy,¡± the hologram changed again to show a group of men and a couple of women, all wearing uniforms none of them except Sam had ever seen before. ¡°MSF. Military Without Borders, in English. As you can probably guess, these aren¡¯t actually locals. They¡¯re a group of mercenaries who have been hired by the locals to run ops in country. The core group, the ones you have to be worried about, are all German nationals¡ªformer members of the German Army. These aren¡¯t your run of the mill grunts, however. This is, or was, Salamander¡ªan experimental rapid response task force answering directly to the German central command. If you were in theater, you¡¯ve probably heard of these guys, if not directly then because someone you know got wiped out by them. The core of Salamander is the 203rd Aerial Mage Division. I cannot stress this enough: Do. Not. Underestimate them. The 203rd and Salamander were the best of the best of the best, and assuming that time away from the war has dulled their edge will get you killed.¡± Advancing to his next slide, Sam brought up a pair of faces. ¡°On your left is the leader of MSF. Formerly a lieutenant colonel before she decided to quit the field for greener pastures, Tanya von Degurechaff is now a general directly in the employ of the Brasa Army, so that complicates things if you¡¯re discovered.¡± Looking over the gathered men, he saw some of them looked skeptical. ¡°I know what you¡¯re thinking. You¡¯re thinking she¡¯s just a kid and that we¡¯ve got bad intel. You¡¯re wrong. That, gentlemen, is The Devil of the Rhine.¡± There was some muttering at that. Of course all of them had heard of her, the government put out a list of Named mages and mana signatures attached to them of people to beware of. For the Devil, the last standing orders about her just before the war ended were to flee on detection unless they had a huge numerical advantage¡ªfour to one minimum against her and her people. ¡°Knock it off!¡± Sam roared, and they shut up. ¡°Yes, she¡¯s good. Maybe even the best. But she¡¯s still human. She eats, sleeps, shits, and puts her pants on one leg at a time like any of the rest of us. Catch her when she¡¯s sleeping, without her computation orb, and she¡¯s just as vulnerable as any other mage. You¡¯ve got a week in country to plan and prepare, to find some way to hit her when she¡¯s not expecting it, and either kill her or preferably capture her and bring her back. We¡¯re issuing you mana disruptive bindings for this op, so once you¡¯ve got her in chains, that should neutralize the threat. Also, word of warning. She¡¯s extremely mana sensitive. No observation formulas, no ranging formulas, you¡¯re parachuting in instead of flying¡ªI recommend not even using invisibility or illusions until you¡¯re on top of them and she¡¯s sleeping.¡± Sam gestured to the other form on the slide¡ªan older man with wild hair, a mustache, and a monocle. ¡°This is Dr. Adelheid Schugel. He¡¯s priority two here. Again, capture is preferred, but if it looks like you can¡¯t then put a bullet in him. Once you¡¯ve secured the targets, choice of exfiltration is up to you. There are American bombers on site that you could try to steal, and we¡¯d prefer it if you did, because they¡¯ve been refitted with some sort of mana based engine¡ªso if you can get one of those home, that¡¯d be great. Otherwise, get far enough away, lose your pursuers, and we can send a plane to pick you up mid-air. Any questions?¡± ¡°Yeah, what happens when we get them back?¡± one of them called out. The Company man grinned. ¡°You let me worry about that. All you need to do is babysit until we get back to the States.¡±
¡°You are gonna be so smart,¡± Edwina murmured, cranking down on a bolt as she finished up maintenance on her new baby¡ªwell, mechanical baby. The Sturmvogel. The actual baby wouldn¡¯t be making its appearance for eight or so months¡ªshe wasn¡¯t sure on the exact date. But her abuelita said that talking to them early on was a good habit to get into as an expecting mother. She was nearly finished adjusting things in the cockpit when the dog outside growled, before starting to bark. There was a faint, almost inaudible pop, and then the dog yelped. For just a moment, Edwina froze, before ducking lower in the cockpit and going still. Outside, she heard whispered voices and the sound of footsteps approaching the partially open hangar door. Our people wouldn¡¯t be sneaking around killing my fucking dog. Someone¡¯s snuck onto the island! Slowly, carefully, she reached up and turned the nob on the magical radio installed in the Sturmvogel, before grabbing her headset and pulling it on over one ear. Flipping over to the standard encrypted general security channel for the island, she listened. Hearing nothing, she keyed up three times in quick succession. A moment later, someone answered. ¡°This is control. Is someone on this channel?¡± One click. There was a pause, then the operator came back. ¡°If this is someone playing with the radio, there will be serious consequences.¡± Footsteps crept closer and Edwina clicked twice. ¡°Okay. Is this an emergency?¡± One click. ¡°Who is this?¡± Remembering there was a chart for what she needed, Edwina looked around the cockpit and found it. Then, she began clicking out an answer. E-D-W-I-N-A. H-A-N-G-A-R. H-E-L-P. She didn¡¯t stick around to hear the answer. The footsteps stopped in the middle of the hangar before turning away. Quietly, the man whispered in English, ¡°It¡¯s empty. Moving to secure the interior exit. Move on Schugel in sixty.¡± Addie! My kid isn¡¯t growing up without a father! Pulling her headset off, Edwina peeked out of the cockpit and found a man-shaped distortion in the air creeping away, a rifle of some sort in his hands judging by the way the odd visual distortion stuck out. He was facing away from her, heading for the stairs that led up to her personal quarters, where she¡¯d left Adelheid sleeping after tuckering him out. She hadn¡¯t been able to sleep after, so had gone down to do some tinkering, and it was a good thing she had! Carefully, she heaved herself up out of the cockpit and down to the ground with barely a sound. Slipping quietly across the floor, Edwina grabbed one of the big wrenches laying on top of one of her many toolboxes. Creeping up behind him, she was nearly on top of the man when all hell broke loose outside, as an explosion went off, the ground rumbled, and guns started firing. Whatever illusion or invisibility magic he was using dropped and the obvious soldier turned to go back the way he had come, only to come camouflage painted face to face with Edwina. For just a moment, he hesitated, his rifle not moving to center on her. Edwina didn¡¯t. She aimed for his head and swung for the fences. There was a solid thunk and crack, and he went down like a sack of potatoes. Kicking the rifle away, then pulling his pistol and tucking it into her belt, Edwina backed away. Looking around, she grabbed a set of chains and quickly worked to get him secured. Once he was, she grabbed the rifle and looked it over. Seeing the safety was off and it was already chambered and ready to go, she took up a position that would let her watch her prisoner, the door at the top of the stairs, and the hangar door. The door to the stairs opened and Adelheid poked his head out, his usually messy graying hair looking even more wild. He looked around before spotting her. ¡°Edwina? What in the world is going on?¡± ¡°We¡¯re under attack, Addie,¡± she nodded towards the man at her feet. The normally irreverent and absentminded man nodded, a serious look crossing his face as his mustache twitched. ¡°One moment, then.¡± He ducked back into the room for a few moments before coming back out dressed in his shorts, the same shirt he¡¯d had on that morning, and a set of sandals. He absently racked the shotgun in his hands as he hurried down the stairs and took up a position to cover the hangar door, putting his body between her and the door she noted with a grimace. ¡°Get behind me, you idiot! You¡¯re more valuable¡ª¡± ¡°Absolutely not, my dear. Now be quiet. It sounds like the fighting is over and we¡¯re either going to be receiving help or very busy in the next few seconds,¡± he warned as the sounds of gunfire died down outside. Heavy footsteps thumped towards the hangar door before pausing at the door. ¡°This is Capt. Grantz! Identify yourselves!¡± Adelheid let out a sigh and chuckled, while Edwina felt like all of the tension suddenly drained out of her body. Her legs felt wobbly and it was only Adelheid turning and catching her that kept her from falling on her ass as her heart suddenly started hammering a mile a minute. ¡°It¡¯s Dr. Schugel and Edwina, captain. We have a captive here, if you would?¡± The handsome young officer poked his head in, rifle leading as he swept the room just to be sure. Turning back outside, he gestured and a group of two other men hurried inside, the captain following. Looking around, he quickly took in the situation before looking to Edwina and nodding to her captive. ¡°Your work?¡± When she nodded, he grinned. ¡°Good job.¡± ¡°What¡¯s going on here, captain?¡± Adelheid asked, and Grantz winced. ¡°We¡¯re not one hundred percent sure, doctor. Reports are still coming in. CP radioed in that Edwina was in some kind of trouble and we likely had intruders since she couldn¡¯t talk and was signaling in Morse. What I do know is that a group of six tried to take the hangar, likely aiming for yourself, doctor. Not sure how they knew to look here and not in your quarters, but we suspect they¡¯ve been observing for a while now.¡± ¡°They were,¡± Edwina nodded. ¡°I heard this one talking.¡± Grantz nodded. ¡°We killed four and captured one, and you got this one. We lost two men to some kind of new shield penetrating formula before we could bring them down.¡± Looking down, he glanced at the charm dangling from a bracelet on his wrist. Quieter, he murmured, ¡°They punched through my first shield, but splashed right off the second. The men that survived were all wearing these.¡± Edwina winced, looking at the man in chains, being dragged away by Grantz¡¯s men. ¡°The boss is gonna be pissed.¡± ¡°We haven¡¯t heard from her and she¡¯s not answering radio calls. We¡¯ve got a team going to check.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
I was stuck somewhere in that place between waking and sleeping as my mind refused to fully shut down and rest. Instead, it turned over logistics and reports, and our immediate future needs. We were less than twenty-four hours out from the commies making landfall and part of me was wondering if we couldn¡¯t do more to harass them, while another part could barely contain a giggle at the idea of what they were walking into. In the end, my bloodthirsty men had been even more creative than I had hoped when it came to coming up with ways to frustrate the communists. In fact, they had gotten downright nasty to the point that if it were anyone else other than the Russy, I¡¯d have felt bad about what they were walking into and might, perhaps, have even ordered them to stand down¡ªapologized and told them that there were certain things you¡¯re just not allowed, as a soldier, to do to another soldier. The concept of a ¡®war crime¡¯ did in fact exist at this point, even if certain ones hadn¡¯t been added or standardized yet, and my men had happily invented entirely new ones to add to the list if anyone ever found out. Using the things they had come up with against anyone other than the Russy would have absolutely been a human rights violation! It was a good thing then that communists weren¡¯t human. When they consistently refused to respect the basic human rights of others, then they shouldn¡¯t be surprised when we don¡¯t bother pretending they were in any way human. The golden rule was right in that respect. Do unto others as you would have them to unto you takes on a whole new weight when the ones doing were communists starving, spying on, or just outright murdering their own populations¡ªlet alone the rape and murder they had perpetuated against the German people before, during, and most certainly after the war now that our people weren¡¯t allowed to fight back. Of course, my thoughts weren¡¯t all doom and gloom. No, that was mostly what my brain was trying to distract itself with¡­ otherwise, it¡¯d have to focus on the physical sensations of my body. Namely, the soft warmth of Viktoriya pressed into my back, her arms wrapped around my waist, and her face buried in my neck as her breath tickled the hairs there in a way that was both distracting and uncomfortably arousing. Now that the cat was out of the bag so to speak and Visha had made clear her intentions, I couldn¡¯t help but wonder if it wasn¡¯t perhaps a mistake to continue sleeping together like this. Not for any worry about propriety or one of us deciding to take advantage, or decide they were tired of waiting. No, for the sake of my precious sleep! I may not technically need it anymore, but I still enjoyed sleep, and if she was going to keep me awake it would¡ª Visha shifted, tightening her grip around my waist. A moment later, I let out a strangled ¡°Ahn~!¡± as her mouth opened and settled over my neck and began to suckle! ¡ªdrive me to distraction!!! She has to be awake, right?! She¡¯s doing it on purpose to wear down my resolve, right?! I would be completely justified in turning around, pushing her into the bed, and making her squeal instead! I wasn¡¯t a virgin¡ªat least, not mentally. As a Japanese salaryman, I¡¯d had my fair share of sexual encounters. This shouldn¡¯t affect me at all! And yet¡­ This situation was a first for me. I¡¯d never actually spent the night with anyone in Japan. Before, it had always been quick affairs of convenience, or the occasional meeting with a colleague after work and a night of forced drinking with superiors for some shared commiseration and stress relief over shitty bosses, ridiculous demands, and excessive hours. Nor had there been this long, drawn out, I hesitated to say dating or courtship because it wasn¡¯t. It was a waiting period¡ªa legal formality at best, and technically not even one that applied here in Brasa! ¡°Mm Tanya flavored ice cream,¡± the woman behind me murmured, and then began chewing, gnawing my neck. ¡°Nom, nom, nom~.¡± I huffed a sigh and shifted enough to get her mouth off of me as cruel reality set in. This wasn¡¯t Viktoriya trying to be sexy or making advances that I wasn¡¯t entirely sure I was ready for. No, it was just my subordinate and friend sleep eating and I just happened to be the convenient target! ¡°My hair is going to smell like drool,¡± I grumbled quietly, making a mental note to get up a bit earlier so I could take a bath before work started. Crisis averted, I closed my eyes and tried once more to sleep¡­ Only to frown as something tickled at the edge of my senses. A frown pulled at my lips as I tried to figure out what it was. After a few moments, I realized I was sensing some kind of¡­ disturbance in the local mana currents. Something that shouldn¡¯t be there. There was also active radio chatter on the magical radio frequency when usually, it was quiet at this time of night. With an effort of will, I tuned in even as I reached out to identify just what it was I was feeling. ¡°¡ªmoving up on the hangar now, CP,¡± I recognized Grantz¡¯s voice over the encrypted comms channel for local security. ¡°Not seeing any¡ªwait! Five, no, six¡ª¡± It was at that point, I realized what it was I was feeling. A group of six mana signatures, suppressed, moving closer¡ªapproaching my bedroom from down the hall. That wouldn¡¯t have been enough to arouse my suspicion by itself, but what had stood out was the familiar feeling of optical camouflage formulas¡ªthe cheaper, less mana intensive version of an invisibility formula. They were effectively a minor illusion formula that left a very familiar distortion in the air around the user. Poor for working in the daylight, but almost perfect for night work and in cover, such as brush or a forest setting. Sitting up, I reached out and shook Viktoriya as I felt them stack up outside my bedroom door. ¡°Wake up! Shield, now!¡± To her credit, my bed partner¡¯s reflexes hadn¡¯t dulled at all from our time together on the Rhine front. She was casting before she even came fully awake, a shield springing up around us. There was an explosion from outside and sudden radio chatter. ¡°Engaging! ¡­ Shit! Standard shields aren¡¯t working, evasive maneuvers!¡± I felt it as, outside, two of my men died in the first seconds of the exchange to some new formula I had never felt before. It felt similar to the one I had developed for penetrating ship hulls and tank armor, but as if it had been modified to be even tighter and thicker, and applied to sniping formulas as opposed to my variant that worked with an explosive formula. Regardless, it didn¡¯t matter what it was, only that shields were apparently worthless against it. So I moved, putting my body between Viktoriya and the door¡ªthe door, which splintered inwards in a small explosion. In the next moment, a group of four men rushed inside while two remained outside, securing the exit. Then came the shouted orders. ¡°PUT YOUR HANDS UP!¡± ¡°DROP THE SHIELD! DROP THE SHIELD NOW OR WE WILL FIRE!¡± ¡°SURRENDER OR BE FIRED UPON!¡± Looking over the intruders, I frowned. They wore Russy uniforms. They carried Russy weapons. But the commands they were shouting were all in English. American English, no less¡ªthe accent, or rather complete lack of one compared to someone from Albion, Canada, or other English speaking countries was distinctive. I¡¯d most often encountered it in my previous life in American businessmen who spent much time overseas, who had to speak clearly and enunciate properly so as to not be misunderstood. But it also happened, as I had seen in this life, among American troops who were in mixed units made up of people from all over their country; after a while, many of them would simply lose their accent much for the same reason as the businessmen I had encountered¡ªsimple need to be understood when giving orders or communicating information. That hadn¡¯t happened with the troops from Albion, or in captured troops from volunteer units I¡¯d run across from other countries. Just the Americans. So then, the message was received and it seems they¡¯ve chosen violence. Very well. I can work with that. I raised a hand and the soldiers tensed, falling silent. ¡°Gentlemen. Please. It¡¯s impolite to barge into a lady¡¯s room in the middle of the night.¡± Grabbing the blanket, I pulled it around myself, tied it into place, and slowly stood, forcing them to take a step back. ¡°I take it you¡¯re here to invite me to go on a plane ride with you back to America, to speak with your superiors?¡± I asked, and one of them in the back flinched, confirming what I suspected. Instead of answering, the one on my left flipped his rifle around, drew it back, and brought it forward in a textbook execution of a buttstroke. It landed dead center of my face and I frowned, even as the soldier stumbled as I held my mana locked relative to the position of the Earth and went nowhere, and he was forced to adjust. Reaching out quickly, I grabbed the gun and jerked it out of his hands, before flipping it around and slamming it into his crotch. He went to his knees with a whimper and by the time the others had reacted, I had the barrel in his mouth¡ªhis bleeding mouth, as I shoved four of his front teeth down his throat. I shook my head slowly. ¡°Now gentlemen, while the commies managed to put together a working rifle that I can actually respect for its surprising reliability and durability, we all know that their ammunition on the other hand is absolute garbage. The odds of it actually firing are significantly lower than that of the ammunition you¡¯re used to being issued¡­ but not zero. So unless you¡¯d like me to paint the room with this hoodlum¡¯s brains, I suggest you calm down and listen.¡± Footsteps sounded from the other end of the hallway and one of the two guarding the door called a warning. ¡°They¡¯re here! We¡¯ve got to go!¡± ¡°Do not move,¡± I warned, before raising my voice. ¡°Who is that down the hall?¡± ¡°General! It¡¯s Weiss! Are you and the major okay?¡± Weiss called from down the hall. I looked to the man I assumed to be the leader. ¡°I suppose that depends, Weiss. Let me ask.¡± Staring the man in the eyes, I asked, ¡°Do you want to walk out of here alive or do you want to die?¡± He glanced down at the man on his knees, silently weeping on the barrel of the rifle, having apparently found God in that moment as he¡¯d clasped his hands and silently begun to pray. Hesitantly, he answered, ¡°What did you have in mind?¡± I smiled. ¡°We¡¯re fine for the moment, Weiss! Hold fire for now, but don¡¯t hesitate if they move.¡± ¡°Understood, ma¡¯am!¡± Nodding, I began the interrogation. ¡°You¡¯re Americans pretending to be Russy troops. You went after Doktor Schugel and myself and you didn¡¯t open fire immediately, so I assume your orders were to attempt capture. Am I correct so far?¡± I asked, and he hesitantly nodded. ¡°The men who went after Schugel are either dead or captured. Let¡¯s check!¡± I keyed up and broadcast in the clear, unencrypted, so they could hear it. ¡°This is Gen. von Degurechaff. Someone give me a sitrep.¡± ¡°It¡¯s Grantz, ma¡¯am! A unit of what look like Russy troops tried to get into the hangar and capture Dr. Schugel. We lost two men. We killed four of theirs and captured two.¡± Chuckling, he added, ¡°Well, Edwina got one with a wrench.¡± ¡°Tell her I said ¡®good job.¡¯¡± The enemy leader frowned at the news, but kept silent. Focusing, I reached out with my senses, feeling their computation orbs¡ªthe only piece of American hardware on them. I didn¡¯t blame them for not changing out for Russy orbs¡ªthose things were even more garbage than their ammunition. Still, that made them identifiable¡ªorbs made in different places used slightly different variations of Elinium, and if you knew what to look for, it was easy to spot the differences. Reaching out with my mana, I cast a basic detection formula, but overpowered it¡ªjust dumped mana into it. The ping it released made the air shimmer and made every mage nearby flinch. I rode the wave of mana out, and out, and out¡­ until I got more hits. A group of six returns across the river. Grabbing onto my mana, I pulled it back and the wave receded. ¡°Attention artillery batteries! Prepare for new target coordinates!¡± I grinned, then fed them in as the enemy commander¡¯s eyes went wide as he realized exactly what, or who I was aiming at. Never mind that our strategically acquired artillery wouldn¡¯t actually reach that far¡ªthey didn¡¯t know that, nor did they need to know. They just needed the threat of it. ¡°Stand by on fire mission.¡± Cutting off the transmission for now, I asked, ¡°So. Fourteen men left. You¡¯ve only suffered four casualties. I can turn that into ten casualties in an instant. Get on your radio and have them stand down. Order them to throw down their weapons, fly over to Colina, and land on the runway where they will surrender to my troops. Deviate from that command and I will give the order to fire.¡± ¡°Fine,¡± he hissed. A moment later, I felt him key up in the clear as well, and then listened to both his side and their reply as he gave the order. When he was finished, I nodded. ¡°Thank you. Now, let¡¯s negotiate, shall we?¡± I pushed the rifle in my hands for emphasis and the man on the other end whimpered. ¡°Unfortunate as it is that it must be at gunpoint to make you listen to reason, needs must and all that. You wanted myself and Herr Doktor Schugel. I will not give you the good doctor, but I am willing to go myself. So, this is the deal. If you would be so kind as to step outside and give us a moment to get dressed, I will order my men not to fire. I will accompany you to the runway, where you can collect your soldiers and your dead. Do you have a pilot among your number?¡± ¡°With the ones flying in,¡± he confirmed, and I nodded. ¡°Then we can take one of my planes. You get one of the targets you came for, you get to leave here alive and with only the casualties you took in the initial assault, and you can mark this one as a win. In return, you immediately cease all hostilities against my people and agree not to attempt to try anything against them so long as I cooperate with you. That is the only offer on the table that doesn¡¯t involve all of you dying and a retaliatory strike against America. What do you say?¡± Looking at his men for a moment, the team leader eventually nodded once. ¡°Fine. Let him up,¡± he nodded at the one on the floor. Pulling the rifle back, I pulled the bolt back and racked it repeatedly to eject all of the rounds, as the man on my bedroom floor stood. Once he had regained his footing, I handed him back his empty rifle with a warning. ¡°If you were one of my men, I would order an assembly, have you dragged out and publicly flogged for striking a lady and an unarmed officer who had offered no resistance, then PT your entire unit until they understood that you were their responsibility and allow them to handle you as they see fit for reflecting poorly upon them. Then, and only then, I might consider not sending in the orders to have you reassigned to a pillbox on the front. Get out of my sight.¡± The man looked to his superior who nodded, then hurried out of the room. At a signal from the leader, the others slowly backed out as well, their weapons lowered as they stood down. Before he left the room, he asked, ¡°If I ask you to leave your weapons and computation orb, would you?¡± ¡°So long as you honor the terms of our deal, yes,¡± I agreed. At that, he nodded and turned away. I looked to Visha who was sending me a look that clearly said she thought I was crazy. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯ll be fine. Now, help me get dressed.¡± ¡°Ma¡¯am! You should just send them on their way. Do you really have time to go play with the Americans when the commies are a day away from landing?!¡± she demanded as she wrapped herself in the bed sheet and hurried to my dresser, pulling out clothes and putting them on the bed. ¡°It¡¯ll be fine. I¡¯ll leave everything to Weiss. He knows what I want.¡± Viktoriya made an unsatisfied sound as she began pulling on her underwear under the sheet, then dropping it and scrambling to get into a shirt and set of trousers. ¡°That may be the case, but you shouldn¡¯t just turn yourself over to them!¡± Chuckling, I sent her a smile. ¡°It¡¯ll be fine. And where do you think you¡¯re going, that you need your uniform?¡± ¡°With you, obviously,¡± she rolled her eyes as she quickly got her boots on, before heading to the closet and grabbing my uniform off the hanger. I made to protest, only for Visha to send me an amused look. ¡°You¡¯re taking one of Edwina¡¯s planes. Do you think she¡¯ll let anyone other than one of her crew pilot them? Or chance letting the Americans decide to keep one? No, she¡¯ll insist on going. Someone other than yourself will have to go to protect her and ensure no one tries any funny business.¡± ¡°That is fair,¡± I murmured, before turning and calling towards the door. ¡°Did you hear that? We¡¯ll be using my pilot. Major Serebryakov will accompany me, armed and with her orb, to ensure that both my pilot and plane are returned unmolested.¡± ¡°Understood,¡± came a call from outside the door. Visha picked up the sheet and held it up as a screen in front of me and I quickly began to dress. As I did, I began to plan out just how to deal with this new wrinkle. It was as she dropped the sheet and began helping with my uniform shirt that I came to a decision. A show of force is required. I need to make them understand that there are rules that even they must abide by, and that they don¡¯t hold all the cards. Perhaps a little tit for tat? I do like the sound of getting even¡­ 24 A Young Girl¡¯s Outer Heaven 24
Commissioned by kyo amamoto.
I leaned back in my very comfortable plush seat, reading a book as our plane shook slightly with a bit of turbulence. Faintly, I could hear the Americans talking among themselves, trying to keep their voices down. Normally, that wouldn¡¯t be a problem¡ªthe sound of engines would drown out most quiet conversation. Not so with the newly retrofitted mana engines on our luxury transport aircraft. They were completely silent. The only things I heard were the sound of the plane cutting through the air, the sound of the radio (a mana based alternative to the record player we¡¯d had originally), and the sounds of a group of very tense soldiers sitting around and waiting for things to go wrong. Turning the page on my book, I continued reading, keeping an eye on them with my mana sense. Though, I could understand their agitation. It probably had something to do with the fact that I was currently jamming all magical radio signals in and out. They couldn¡¯t radio ahead. They couldn¡¯t request or receive instructions. They didn¡¯t even know where we really were. We were supposed to be landing at a U.S. naval base in Florida, based on the instructions the squad leader had given us. We weren¡¯t, obviously. Instead, we were using information gathered on the U.S. before the war and pre-war maps to fly to a naval base a little closer to my target. We were on course for Norfolk, Virginia, and the current largest U.S. naval base on the east coast¡ªand that wasn¡¯t likely to change any time soon. A timer went off in my head¡ªa formula I had set to count down based on our air speed and the distance to our target. We were currently moving much faster than the B-17¡¯s specs said it should be capable of, but that was mostly dependent upon the engines. Edwina had stress tested them and getting them up to just above Mach 1 was fine¡ªthey could easily sustain a cruising speed of 800mph at altitude. Marking my page, I put the book down and stood. The soldiers looked up, some of their guns twitching but not quite turning my direction. Making my way up to the cockpit, I stepped inside and closed the cabin door. ¡°We¡¯re almost there,¡± Edwina answered the unspoken question as she looked up. ¡°I¡¯m going to need to radio ahead soon, or they might get antsy.¡± I nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll go get someone in a moment. Once we land, you need to leave as soon as everyone debarks. Don¡¯t wait for clearance. Don¡¯t wait for me. Leave and return to Brasa.¡± ¡°But ma¡¯am,¡± Visha protested, ¡°how will you get back?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll fly under my own power,¡± I assured her with a smile, even as she sent me a skeptical look. ¡°I¡¯m a bit faster now than I was.¡± That was an understatement. I had done some testing with the help of Dr. Schugel. I could easily outpace even Sturmvogel if I wanted to. The only issue was my clothes getting damaged unless I maintained a shield constantly. Oh, also running into the occasional bird and insect¡ªthe typical risks any aerial mage took when they went up, really. It was why I preferred riding in style. It was much more comfortable and convenient to ride in my new car, or in our dedicated VIP air transport, than it was to fly¡ªeven if flying was faster. I couldn¡¯t enjoy a book and a good cup of coffee or even take a nap if I were flying myself, after all! It was also easier to transport sensitive documents without the risk of whatever case was holding them breaking. Not to mention having a handy restroom. Life as an aerial mage came with certain¡­ allowances one had to make for the sake of practicality, and I would be perfectly happy if I never had to take another midair piss again because we couldn¡¯t land for a bathroom break. ¡°We could find a nearby field and wait for you to meet us,¡± Edwina suggested, and I shook my head. ¡°No. They¡¯ll definitely scramble aerial mages and fighters to try and intercept you. Remember, they want this technology as much as they want me. Why do you think they were fine allowing you to fly us in? They¡¯re expecting to try to take the plane. They probably won¡¯t hurt the two of you because it¡¯s part of the deal we made, but they would absolutely break that deal when it came to taking the plane.¡± ¡°They can have my Royal Flush over my dead body,¡± the pilot grumbled. ¡°If they had to, yes,¡± I agreed. Visha made a frustrated noise, looking conflicted and annoyed as she did. ¡°This is so¡­¡± ¡°Frustrating? Stupid? Yes,¡± I nodded, a grin pulling at my lips. ¡°That¡¯s the U.S. government. Why negotiate when they can take, or get their way by force? It wasn¡¯t the reaction I had hoped for, but I can¡¯t say it was unexpected.¡± Looking curious, Edwina asked, ¡°What were you hoping for?¡± ¡°A negotiation as peers. Equals. Where we both sit down and work out our needs and wants and determine how we can best help the other achieve those, and at what cost. It was perhaps a bit idealistic on my part, to expect them to be willing to listen to reason right from the start. After all, they don¡¯t know or haven¡¯t acknowledged that they¡¯re dealing with a peer. At the moment, they most likely believe they¡¯re dealing with an upstart. It¡¯s the difference between an officer of equal or slightly lesser rank formally requesting a meeting and a private storming into headquarters armed to the teeth and ¡®requesting¡¯ a meeting. Of course there would be resistance. Push back. They need to test and see where we stand in regards to each other. That¡¯s why they sent a team to capture or kill myself and Dr. Schugel. If they can get away with doing it with no repercussions, then they aren¡¯t going to take us seriously.¡± Edwina frowned as she thought about that, while Visha made a quiet sound and let out a whispered, ¡°Oh no.¡± The pilot turned to my adjutant in her co-pilot¡¯s seat. ¡°What?¡± Instead of answering, my blonde subordinate and friend turned wide blue eyes on me. ¡°You¡¯re going to make an example of them.¡± A smile pulled at my lips and she shivered, her head jerking back to Edwina. ¡°As soon as they¡¯re clear of the plane, we¡¯re leaving. Full speed, right back home.¡± ¡°Huh? I don¡¯t get it.¡± ¡°The first time the general made an example of someone, we went from routing an invading Dacian force three divisions strong to conducting a night raid on their capital that same night to cripple their weapons production.¡± I rolled my eyes. ¡°I told you, you shouldn¡¯t even count those as divisions. They were little better than a mob fifty-thousand strong.¡± My adjutant met my eyes and said only a single word in response. ¡°Moskva.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not my fault they had no air defense for their capital!¡± I protested. ¡°That was entirely a failure on the part of the communists!¡± Looking further confused, Edwina asked, ¡°I don¡¯t get it?¡± Viktoriya took a breath then let it out in a sigh. ¡°How far is Norfolk from their capital?¡± ¡°A little over¡ª¡± I cut her off with an exact answer. ¡°One hundred and fifty three point five miles from our landing area to the White House.¡± Visha sent me a knowing look. ¡°Perhaps I merely wanted to go visit? Introduce myself? Say hello.¡± ¡°At,¡± Visha checked her chronometer, ¡°just past four in the morning.¡± My smile returned. ¡°Well, it¡¯s only fair. After all, they kicked in our bedroom door in the dead of night. They shouldn¡¯t complain when we return the favor, just to underscore the point of how utterly rude and disrespectful such a thing is.¡± My subordinate turned back to our pilot. ¡°Now do you see?¡± ¡°Right,¡± Edwina nodded. ¡°In and out, fast as we can. I¡¯m just going to shove you out as we¡¯re rolling down the tarmac. Not even gonna stop. You can tuck and roll. You¡¯re their problem now, boss.¡± ¡°Har de har har,¡± I sighed, turning away and heading deeper into the plane, before waving to the enemy soldiers¡¯ leader. ¡°We¡¯ll be landing shortly. You¡¯re up. Need to radio the local air base and let them know we¡¯re friendlies landing so they don¡¯t try to shoot us full of holes.¡± Standing, the man nodded, before lifting a set of chains and shackles. ¡°You¡¯ll need to wear these.¡± ¡°When we step off and not a moment before,¡± I countered. ¡°Your men will go first, then you and I, then the rest bearing your dead last. You should inform them of that and have someone waiting to take the dead.¡± The man hesitated, stopping as he came even with me. ¡°Why are you so worried about it?¡± Sighing quietly, I shook my head. ¡°I know what it¡¯s like to lose those under your command to stupid orders or by being sent into a poor situation without enough information. Too often, we¡¯ve had to leave our dead behind¡ªor worse, they were chewed up by the machine of war and there wasn¡¯t enough left of them to put in a body bag. We may stand on opposite sides of the field today, but that doesn¡¯t mean that we shouldn¡¯t afford them the dignity they deserve, or their families the right to lay their sons to rest at home. I am not the monster or the mad dog your people and your allies have painted me as. Perhaps, where it comes to protecting my own life and those of my subordinates and people, I am every bit the Devil they¡¯ve labeled me. But I am a soldier and an officer first. If allowances can be made for this sort of thing, they should be.¡± It also cost me nothing and earned me goodwill by showing that we were willing to be civil, and word of that would spread. We were going to need that goodwill, because I knew the American playbook for dealing with enemies. I¡¯d seen it before in my own world and time, after all. I saw the things they said about the Germans, twice over. About Japan¡ªalthough I will give them that our peoples had a fundamental misunderstanding of each other at the time. I saw what they said about the Soviets¡ªthough if we¡¯re being honest, what was said about the commies barely scratched the surface of just how bad they actually were. Vietnam. Korea. Iraq. In every conflict America had participated in from their Revolutionary War all the way to the day I died, they had gone out of their way to vilify the opposing force¡ªto propagandize to their own people and everyone else, that the enemy were morally evil and America was always unquestionably morally good. Some of it was truth, but much of it was propaganda¡ªif not outright lies. And most normal people, unfortunately, had a hard time sorting fact from fiction¡ªespecially when everything they saw sold them the same lie. Japan during the Second World War, for instance. The things Manchu Detachment 731 did were monstrous, I wouldn¡¯t deny that. The treatment of prisoners, on the other hand, was from a misunderstanding. At the time, Imperial Japan still somewhat adhered to certain older beliefs¡ªone of those being death before dishonor. Thus, an enemy who fought to the last was expected and honorable. An enemy who surrendered, on the other hand, was subhuman and either to be killed or completely at the mercy of their captors, and their captors would absolutely torment them. It was a very different sort of mentality from those in the West where war and the handling of prisoners were approached with certain expectations; if an enemy surrendered, prisoners were expected to be treated with certain bare minimum standards¡ªespecially the officers. This was why there were many such cases of Japanese outright refusing to surrender to America troops, out of fear of what would be done to them¡ªbecause it¡¯s what they would have done, thus they expected the same sort of treatment. There was no way that this didn¡¯t end with America slandering Brasa for generations to come. It was almost unavoidable. The only thing we could do was plan and deal with it in our own time, and part of that meant getting ahead of the propaganda campaign by showing that we were the reasonable ones in this situation. The problem was, being reasonable had to be balanced with being someone America was afraid to attack. Too accommodating and they would take advantage, either financially or with direct action as they had today. Too hard and we would have not learned the lesson of the Empire¡ªthat being, appear too strong and you¡¯ll drive other nations into a mad frenzy to kill you for being too great a threat. It was a difficult balancing act. Metaphorically speaking, I needed to give them a black eye for the unprovoked attack they had made, but then I needed to extend a hand to help them up once I¡¯d knocked them off their feet and offer peace. That was the problem of not having the option of MAD available and commonly understood. Until they understood that they could be utterly annihilated any time they overstepped, they would still feel that launching a large scale offensive was viable. I needed to dissuade them of that notion, to convince them that if they ever tried this again, there would be dire consequences.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Returning to my seat, I listened in as the leader of the Americans¡¯ hit squad radioed down to the naval base we were approaching and made arrangements. Less than ten minutes later, Royal Flush thumped and the tires squealed as we hit the tarmac and Edwina began braking. The cockpit was closed up tight and I knew Visha would be waiting on the other side of the door with her SMG. As soon as we pulled to a stop, the squad leader ordered his men off the plane, except for those who were on corpse detail. Once they were clear, he held up the shackles. ¡°Can¡¯t let you out without these.¡± ¡°Mm. Very well.¡± I took a moment to button the top button on my uniform coat, then slipped my arms out of the sleeves, leaving it hanging off me like a cape. Holding out my hands, I offered them up and waited. He approached warily, cautious of some last minute trick, but I did nothing as he slapped the cold metal bands onto my wrists. The metal was thick and much wider than handcuffs, with about a foot of dark chain between them. I felt the effect immediately as they tried to scramble my internal mana to prevent casting and immediately tapped into my mana to fuel a written strengthening formula on the shackles and chain to prevent anyone from cutting them. It was a pretty ingenious design, I¡¯ll admit. Any normal mage would be completely at the mercy of whoever had these. These just weren¡¯t made with someone like me in mind. Turning them over to record all of the enchantments for later reproduction, I tucked my arms under my hanging coat to mostly hide the shackles and the two of us left the plane. Outside, we found his men had lined up to either side of the door and come to attention. The leader¡¯s hand on my shoulder directed us to the end of the line, on the other side of which was an army green truck marked with the white and red cross of a medical unit. Then, the last of his men began walking down the stairs of the plane. Reaching up, I removed my hat and watched as they were carried down the line and loaded into the back of the medical trucks. As soon as the last of them was clear, I saw Visha pull up the plane¡¯s stairs and close the door. Royal Flush was pulling away a moment later and I grinned and pulled my hat back on as it quickly picked up speed. People looked around confused and the team leader at my side frowned, but said nothing as it quickly got up to speed and took off. It was at that point that several military police approached with weapons drawn to take custody of me. As I was being led away, I turned and sent the man a smile. ¡°You and your men should go home. Soon.¡± ¡°¡­Why?¡± ¡°You and your men were allowed to leave alive. I¡¯ve cooperated with you and you are no longer in a position to engage in hostilities against my people. You were allowed to bring one of your targets here to America and hand me over into their custody. Your mission is officially over, is it not? With this, the deal you and I had is concluded, wouldn¡¯t you agree?¡± He thought about it for a moment, keeping pace as the MPs pulled me along and hauled me into the back of a troop transport. Finally, he said, ¡°Even if you lived up to the reputation, not even you can escape this.¡± I hummed. ¡°You think? They didn¡¯t tell you, did they?¡± ¡°Tell me what?!¡± I chuckled as the transport started up. ¡°You¡¯re missing information. As I said, you and your men should go home if you value your lives. Things are going to get very lively here, very soon.¡± The truck pulled away, heading deeper into the base. Checking my timer, I watched and waited as we moved along towards a building off to the side of the others. When we stopped again. I was roughly pushed out of the back of the truck as half a dozen MPs filed in around me and began directing me towards the building. When I abruptly stopped, fixing my mana into place relative to the Earth and making myself practically immovable, the guns came up and the shouting began. ¡°Gentlemen.¡± The MPs around me hesitated as I spoke. ¡°Thank you for the hospitality, but I am afraid I must decline. I am late for a very important meeting, you see.¡± Finally, one of them moved in and put his trench shotgun against my forehead. At that, the rest pointed their weapons at me and flipped off the safeties. ¡°Do you not understand the situation you¡¯re in?!¡± The shotgun pressed into my forehead just a little harder. ¡°With those cuffs on, you¡¯re no different from us. We have orders to open fire if you resist. Now, come along quietly, or things are going to come to a bloody end real damn quick.¡± ¡°Do you?¡± I smiled. A collective shiver ran through the group at that. ¡°Because you see¡­¡± I held up my hands, the chains clinking between them and drawing their eyes. Focusing my mana, I began pushing it back towards the cuffs, running it between them¡ªthrough the shackles, down the links of the chain. Eyes went wide as the links began to smoke, then glow as they quickly turned cherry red. ¡°I am¡­¡± A little more mana and they went yellow and began to sag, before starting to slag and fall to the ground. A quiet whisper came from one of the men as the metal hissed and cooled on the ground, more quickly joining it. ¡°Oh shit.¡± ¡°¡­right where I want to be.¡± The cuffs and chain fell away entirely, leaving my arms bare. A little red from the heat, but that faded back to my usual coloration as I watched. ¡°So¡ª¡± The shotgun in my face went off. Someone yelled ¡°Open fire!¡± and the sounds of automatic rifle and shotgun fire filled the air as they unloaded on me. I didn¡¯t bother with a shield as bullets hit my skin and the mana beneath solidified, strengthening the skin above. Bullets and shot flattened and split as they impacted, falling to the ground in a soft patter barely audible under the sounds of weapons fire. Running mana through my clothes and reinforcing them with it kept them intact¡ªit would be a shame if my uniform were destroyed in this pointless little display, after all. Finally, the fire stopped as they ran out of ammunition. The MPs stared at me, slack jawed, as I brushed off still hot bits and pieces of lead onto the ground. When I finished dusting myself off, I shook my head. ¡°If you¡¯ll excuse me, I have a negotiation to get to.¡± With that, I lifted off the ground to the sound of alarms going off across the base. I felt multiple people keying up on the magical radio frequency and chuckled, casting an invisibility formula and pulling my mana in close, holding it tight as I left. I¡¯d let them get the word out and scramble assistance. The more attention there was here, the less there was at my destination, after all. I created a thin shield to keep the wind off and rapidly climbed, accelerating northwest.
President Calvin was pulled out of a deep sleep by the door to his bedroom blasting open in a minor explosion¡ªsawdust and splinters filling the room with debris as it was blasted off its hinges. His wife screamed even as he sat up and looked around blearily, his heart hammering wildly as adrenaline coursed through his veins. A figure stood in his doorway, back lit by the lights from the hall, casting their figure into shadow¡ªbut whoever it was, they were relatively short. There was a quiet inhale of breath, and then a shout¡ªno, not just a shout, it was like someone was yelling into a PA system. ¡°GET UP! GET OUT OF BED AND GET ON YOUR KNEES! SURRENDER OR BE FIRED UPON!¡± ¡°O-okay! Okay!¡± he raised his hands, easing his way out of the bed and standing, putting himself between the intruder and his wife, and wondering where the hell his security detail were. ¡°Please¡ª¡± The figure marched into the room and clicked on the bedroom light. President Calvin¡¯s heart stopped as he realized he recognized her. General Tanya von Degurechaff. Here. In his bedroom! In the White House! Further thoughts were temporarily whited out as she jerked him down to her level, then brought her fist up to smash into his nose, breaking it and sending him sprawling to the floor. Nodding, she wiped off a bit of his blood from the back of her hand. ¡°There. Now we¡¯re even. That was exactly the amount of force one of yours used to buttstroke me when your people forced their way into my own bedroom earlier tonight. Don¡¯t worry, I only used exactly the same amount of force he used. I measured it, after all.¡± Shaking her head, she clicked her tongue. ¡°It¡¯s quite rude, isn¡¯t it? Waking someone up in the dead of night in this manner and assaulting them. You would think that heads of state and high ranking officers would be exempt from such treatment, out of fear of some sort of international incident¡­¡± ¡°AAAHHH¡ª¡± The blonde terror gestured and his wife¡¯s screaming was silenced¡ªthough a check back in her direction showed she was still alive and unharmed, just¡­ silently screaming, apparently behind some formula. The Devil sighed, ¡°That¡¯s enough of that. Now,¡± she turned her attention back to Calvin. ¡°Get up and get dressed. Your wife can stay or leave, I don¡¯t care which. You¡¯re coming with me. We¡¯re going to have a little¡­ negotiation.¡± Finding his balls, President Calvin pressed a hand to his bleeding nose and stood. ¡°You come into my home. Into the White House. The very heart of this country. And dare attack the President of the Unified States of America? There¡¯s nothing to negotiate. This is war, plain and simple. Just a continuation of the Great War, in a new theater. We¡¯ll raze Brasa to the ground, dig your people out of whatever hole they¡¯re hiding in, and drag them before the courts to stand trial for their crimes against humanity!¡± ¡°I see,¡± the Devil murmured, nodding slowly. ¡°If that¡¯s how you feel, then I suppose a demonstration is in order instead. Now, get dressed and come along. If you¡¯ll direct me, we can stop by a mage medic and have that nose seen about.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not going anywhere¡ª¡± President Calvin fell silent as she raised her hand and pointed a single finger at him. The tip began to glow ominously and he realized that she had a formula primed and ready to kill him where he stood. Once again, he wondered where the hell his security was¡ª ¡°If you¡¯re wondering where your security is, I¡¯m afraid I neutralized them already. Don¡¯t worry, they¡¯ll live. They¡¯ve just got a few broken bones and I destroyed their computation orbs and weapons. We¡¯ll be long gone by the time they raise an alarm and get a team here to respond. Now, I won¡¯t tell you again. Get dressed, or I¡¯ll dress you myself, and I assure you neither of us wants that.¡± Looking to his wife, President Calvin sighed and made his way over, feeling his skin tingle as he stepped through a bubble around here. Immediately, her wailing filled his ears and he winced. ¡°Janie, it¡¯s okay,¡± he called, moving over and hugging the woman. ¡°We¡¯re okay for now.¡± She eventually quieted down and he let her go. ¡°I have to go for a bit. I¡¯ll be back soon.¡± ¡°No! You, you can¡¯t! She¡¯s, she¡ª!¡± ¡°Shh, shh. It¡¯s fine,¡± he shushed her as he stood and went into his closet, pulling out one of his suits and starting to dress. Soon enough, he kissed his wife goodbye and left, walking beside the Devil as they moved through the strangely quiet halls of the White House. It was surreal, if he was being honest. He had never seen the place this empty, this quiet. All of the people who should have been moving about even at this hour were gone. ¡°How do you know the infirmary is even going to be staffed?¡± he asked, sending the young woman a curious look. ¡°You didn¡¯t do anything to them?¡± ¡°I can feel them from here, now that I know the general direction we¡¯re heading. They¡¯re the only other mages in the building. And no. I went after the largest concentration of mages and any individuals roaming the halls near the President¡¯s Bedroom. Second floor, southwest corner. That¡¯s all public knowledge,¡± she shrugged. The rest of the short trip was spent in silence, until they reached the infirmary. There was some sort of brief magical clash, but the general clearly came out the winner as the man on duty quickly relented and treated President Calvin¡¯s wound¡ªa formula easing the bruising after he set the broken nose back as it should be. Once they were finished, she led him out the rear exit, to the back yard. ¡°Now what?¡± the President asked. The Devil hummed, considering. She closed her eyes briefly before nodding. A moment later, President Calvin yelped as they lifted into the air, before flying almost directly west. ¡°War between us would be a mistake,¡± she began speaking as they slowly flew along, gaining altitude and letting President Calvin see the city from above, the first time he¡¯d seen it and not been in the seat of a small aircraft looking out a window. ¡°I have a question. Did Agent Samuel Singer not report his findings?¡± ¡°No, he did,¡± President Calvin glared at her, crossing his arms over his chest. ¡°We saw the bomb you set off,¡± he said, and she nodded. ¡°You¡¯re a madwoman with her finger on a button. If you think you can force the Unified States to bend to the whims of some third world dictator, a war criminal, with the threat of annihilation from above then you¡¯re sadly mistaken. We will kill you. Even if you kill me here and now, more will come for you. They only have to get lucky once. And then, when you¡¯re not in control of the arsenal above our heads, we can route the rest of your people at our leisure.¡± The young woman blinked, before sending him a confused look. ¡°Excuse me? What arsenal?¡± President Calvin scoffed. ¡°Don¡¯t take me for a fool. We¡¯re aware the satellites overhead. Flying bombs you¡¯ve got hanging over us like a gun pointed to our heads.¡± ¡°Ah,¡± she murmured, making a particularly queer face for just a moment, before her lips twitched into something approaching a rueful smile¡ªas opposed to the one that had made him want to crawl under his bed and hide until the threat had passed. ¡°Yes. That arsenal. You¡¯ve got me, Mr. President. I couldn¡¯t pull one over on you,¡± she chuckled. ¡°Damn right!¡± he nodded firmly. ¡°So, just to clarify¡­ You know about the satellites. Which are mana bombs flying overhead, even as we speak, under the control of my people. Bombs which have an adjustable yield in the range between kilotons and megatons. Three hundred of them, in fact.¡± ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± President Calvin agreed as they came to a stop overlooking the Potomac River, and the island there they were considering naming after a former president¡ªthough they hadn¡¯t quite decided which yet. Maybe after this is all said and done, they¡¯ll name it after me, for all the good I¡¯ve done for this country. Stopping this madwoman and putting down the rabid dogs she calls soldiers should earn me that much. Hell, I practically ended the Great War myself! They¡¯ll be talking about me for generations to come. ¡°Mm. I see,¡± she murmured. ¡°And did it not occur to you that if I were killed, my people might take umbrage with that? That they might decide to launch a retaliatory strike all on their own?¡± President Calvin¡¯s train of thought derailed and caught fire as his blood ran cold. ¡°They, no. No. They wouldn¡¯t! No one would just kill that many people in retaliation¡ª!¡± ¡°Is that what you think?¡± she asked, that smile back on her lips. ¡°No, Mr. President. You are sadly mistaken. But you¡¯re not alone in that. That was the mistake everyone else kept making too. Everyone was so focused on The Devil of the Rhine that they didn¡¯t stop to really look at the people around me. Every one of the mages under my command has a confirmed kill count of other aerial mages in the dozens. Each one of them is an ace of aces in their own right. They are the most trained, the most skilled, and the most dangerous individuals currently alive on this planet. If it weren¡¯t for me being there, every one of them would be listed as a Named mage, but it gets kind of confusing when you have to start calling out so many individual names over the radio, which is why the entire battalion is known by name instead. My men are bloodthirsty maniacs. They are what I like to call default aggressive; that is, with a lack of instruction, they will resort to destruction. Meaning that the only thing holding them in check is me. And you thought it was a good idea to kidnap or kill the one person who wanted to talk instead of just, as you implied, press the button?¡± His mouth suddenly dry, President Calvin swallowed thickly. ¡°¡­They would do it?¡± The woman sighed. ¡°President Calvin, before I left, I didn¡¯t have to give orders to perform a retaliatory strike if I wasn¡¯t returned inside of twenty-four hours. I didn¡¯t need to. All I needed to do was do nothing. To not order them not to do so. I¡¯m here to try to save lives, not end them. To that end, that demonstration. You need to witness firsthand what it is you¡¯re dealing with. Because those bombs? I have direct access. I can call down a strike any time, from anywhere on the planet. And in the time I¡¯ve been speaking, I¡¯ve done just that. I¡¯m surprised you didn¡¯t notice the shields forming around that little island there,¡± she nodded towards the almost mile long strip of uninhabited, forested land in the middle of the river. ¡°I put them there to keep the blast from affecting anything else.¡± ¡°You, you can¡¯t! No mage could contain a blast that large! It¡¯ll destroy¡ª!¡± ¡°Too late.¡± The last thing President Calvin saw before the world became nothing but a white flash and a roar of sound was that damn smile again. Like staring into the face of a hungry tiger. We¡¯ve truly grabbed the tiger by the tail and it seems to have grabbed hold of us in turn. Now what do we do with it? 25 A Young Girl¡¯s Outer Heaven 25
Commissioned by kyo amamoto.
Jack was shaken from a sound sleep by a boom so loud it rattled the windows. The boom seemed to go on forever, turning into a rumble like thunder as he sat up, looking around in the dark light coming in through his window. Beside him, his wife jolted, sleepily cracking her eyes open. ¡°¡®S it a storm?¡± she asked, and Jack frowned as something felt somehow¡­ wrong. ¡°I don¡¯t think so,¡± he murmured. As he tried to reason out what it was that felt so wrong, another feeling distracted him. It started as a sort of metaphysical hot wind against his mana senses. From there, it quickly escalated to stinging, then burning¡ªlike being covered in fire ants. He instinctively tried to turn away, before realizing where the ¡®wind¡¯ was coming from¡ªthe wall the window was on. Jack blinked as he forced himself to turn and look. There, climbing into the sky several miles away, was a billowing orange cloud in the shape of a mushroom¡ªthe burning atmosphere and mana coming off of it so bright it was like the sun had risen early. The bedroom door cracked open behind him and in a quiet voice, Jack Jr. complained, ¡°Dad? It burns.¡± ¡°Sorry, kiddo,¡± Jack said, quickly getting out of bed, moving over to his son and picking him up. A shield did absolutely nothing as the mana wind simply blew right through it. Then, after perhaps a minute of that, it all stopped. The wind abruptly reversed, whipping back the other way. He winced and Jack Jr. cried in his arms as the stinging became a much more intense burning, but after a moment it stopped. Looking out the window, he blinked as the fireball dimmed, becoming mostly smoke lit from within. But there, near the mushroom cloud was¡­ what looked like a new star. Spinning up a sniping formula, he zoomed in for a better look, and his mouth fell open. Floating there in the air, beside the President of the Unified States, is a figure glowing so brightly it hurts to look at. All he can make out is the rough shape¡ªshort, female, long golden hair whipping in the mana wind as his senses tell him it¡¯s all rushing to her. Two silver-blue pinpricks where eyes should be in the golden mass. It takes him a minute, but Jack¡¯s brain, flooded with adrenaline as it is, puts the pieces together. He recalls watching a video of another explosion like this, shot out at sea¡­ and the girl who showed up immediately after to use a computation orb to absorb the excess mana. But that isn¡¯t what he¡¯s seeing. It doesn¡¯t look like she¡¯s using an orb to do it. No, it looks like she¡¯s just¡­ absorbing all of that mana into her body, well past the point where a normal human would have long since been incinerated or exploded themselves. My God, those fools actually did it. They provoked her. The new star winked out abruptly as the mana wind died off, revealing his fears made manifest. The blonde form of Tanya von Degurechaff, floating in the air, wearing the same uniform she¡¯d worn when the latest video was taken. She turned an annoyed look on the president, speaking for just a moment, before reaching up and coughing into her fist. A hologram sprang up around and above her¡ªtowering over the surrounding buildings and terrain. ¡°Ahem,¡± she coughed politely. Silver-blue eyes opened and a wide, manic grin spread across her face. She spread her arms wide out to her sides as her voice boomed over the city, audible even from where Jack¡¯s home was, miles away. ¡°GOOD MORNING, WASHINGTON!!!¡± ¡°Wha-?¡± Jack¡¯s wife sat up, looking around in confusion, until she saw him staring out the window. ¡°Honey? Who is that? What¡¯s going on?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll explain later,¡± Jack shook his head, handing his son off to his wife. ¡°Take Jack and head to your mother¡¯s. I¡¯ll call when it¡¯s safe.¡± ¡°¡®Safe?¡¯ What do you mean¡ª?¡± Jack turned and met her eyes. He didn¡¯t say anything. He didn¡¯t have to. She quickly got up and took Jack Jr. back to his room. Jack hurried to his dresser and began pulling out clothes and dressing as he listened to the show being put on for all of the nation¡¯s capital. ¡°Some of you may know me. For those who don¡¯t, my name is General Tanya von Degurechaff, of the Brasa Army and formerly of the German Imperial Army. You may know me better from the epithet your newspapers have spread¡­ the Devil of the Rhine,¡± she paused, a wide, terrifying smile spreading over her face as she looked down over the capital. She let that hang for a few beats, before continuing. ¡°Worry not, however! This is not an attack or an invasion, merely a demonstration! I apologize for this early morning wake up call, but when your president invited me here this morning, I just had to come! You are in no danger and everything is under control. The explosion you heard was a test of a new weapon, requested by President Calvin. It was contained and no one was harmed. I¡¯m sure there won¡¯t be another, unless your president requests it. Wouldn¡¯t you agree, Mr. President?¡± An image of the President appeared, standing beside her and looking like he had sucked an entire bag of lemons. ¡°Of course. There won¡¯t be another demonstration. Everything is under control. Please just go about your day as normal.¡± The general smirked. ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t want another demonstration? I have plenty to spare!¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡± ¡°Wunderbar~! In that case, I look forward to negotiating with you, Mr. President. As for the people of Washington, D.C., everyone have a lovely day!¡± With that, the hologram shut off. Jack sat on the edge of his bed to begin pulling on his shoes as he thought. A moment later, his wife came in and began dressing. Quietly, she asked, ¡°I heard the announcement. Does that mean we don¡¯t have to go?¡± ¡°You should go,¡± Jack stressed. ¡°Why? Can you explain it to me?¡± Jack sighed, casting a look at her for a moment. ¡°I¡¯m still wrapping my head around it. That,¡± he nodded towards the window, ¡°was the most dangerous mage in the world. Maybe of all time. A child soldier trained from a young age and sent to the front line of the war in Europe, where she distinguished herself and quickly rose through the ranks. Her country surrendered, so they fled to Brasa. Now, Brasa is armed with a weapon the Germans developed¡ªa mana bomb powerful enough to take out everything in a mile radius or more of whatever it hits.¡± ¡°That¡¯s her?¡± his wife asked, and he nodded. ¡°So, what¡¯s all this?¡± ¡°They provoked her.¡± ¡°And that¡¯s bad?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Jack agreed. ¡°And I don¡¯t believe for a minute that someone won¡¯t set her off again and earn another ¡®demonstration.¡¯ But the next one¡¯s not going to be harmless. Standard war doctrine is to offer only one warning shot, which she just gave. There won¡¯t be a second warning. The next one¡¯s going to hit something that will hurt. Which is why I want you out of town. A weapon that big¡­ I don¡¯t think she¡¯d target the capital. Not immediately. She¡¯ll probably aim for the nearby naval base at Annapolis, which would cripple naval operations and construction on our fleet on the eastern seaboard for years, until we repaired it. But just in case¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯ll take Jack Jr. to mom¡¯s,¡± she confirmed. Standing, Jack kissed his wife and started for the door. ¡°Where are you going?¡± ¡°The office. They¡¯ll be calling for me to come in any minute now.¡± Grabbing his wallet, house keys, and briefcase Jack hurried outside and took off towards the office¡ªwith a stop at a cafe to grab a quick coffee and breakfast on the way in, since he had a feeling it was going to be a long day.
I put another piece of paper to the side as the formula I was using finished printing, before moving onto the next blank sheet of A4 paper. As I worked in the large conference room I had taken residence in within the White House, I kept an eye on the goings on of those in and around the grounds. My modified, 360 degree sniping formula and mana senses came in very handy as I watched and extended a formula to listen to their emergency planning session. Finally, they came to a decision and the current director of ¡®the Company,¡¯ a euphemism for this world¡¯s budding Central Intelligence Agency, sent one of his underlings scurrying my way to test the waters. The others turned on a television connected to the cameras and recording equipment hidden in the room, giving them a live feed. A moment later, there was a knock at the door. ¡°Enter,¡± I called, as the formula finished printing another paper. I glanced up briefly as he entered¡ªCaucasian, black hair, clean shaven, somewhere in his mid-to-late 20s, and with the athletic look and bearing that might as well scream ¡®former military.¡¯ The presence of a computation orb and his mana told me he was an aerial mage. The man moved to stand beside me and offered his hand, after putting his briefcase on the table. ¡°Sorry for the wait. Jack Thompson. I¡¯m with the ah,¡± he paused. ¡°The Central Intelligence Agency,¡± I answered, standing and shaking the offered hand, before introducing myself. Retaking my seat, I asked, ¡°I had the displeasure of meeting one of your colleagues in Brasa, an Agent Samuel Singer. Tell me, why are you here and not the men gathered in the room mirroring this one in the west wing?¡± ¡°First, let me start by apologizing,¡± he began, sliding into the chair to my right as he studied the form I was currently printing out curiously. ¡°Agent Singer handled that poorly and it was his report that led to, well,¡± he gestured, indicating the room around us and the situation we were currently in. ¡°I see. Are you authorized to apologize on behalf of the Unified States Government in an official capacity? Do you have the authority to offer remuneration for your government¡¯s trespass, and the loss of two of my men at the hands of your black bag team?¡± Mr. Thompson winced, taking a breath. ¡°No. Sorry. My condolences.¡± ¡°Your condolences won¡¯t bring them back. They won¡¯t comfort their grieving families. Nor will they take care of their wives and children. So while I appreciate the sentiment on a personal level, on an official level it is worthless to me unless it comes from your government and comes with both remuneration and concessions.¡± ¡°I understand.¡± Finally unable to contain his curiosity, he asked, ¡°What are you printing?¡± ¡°This stack,¡± I indicated the one I was still adding pages to, ¡°contains performance reviews for everyone involved in this incident. From the black bag team, to those I worked my way through to capture your President, President Calvin himself¡­ I¡¯ll compose yours when we¡¯re finished. Would you like to see?¡± Mr. Thompson cautiously picked up the stack and took the sheet on the bottom. I watched as he read, his eyes moving over the paper, before he finally mouthed, ¡°¡®¡­in conclusion, while his leadership of his team and ability to adapt to a changing situation and improvise are exemplary, his ability to plan ahead on a limited time frame and prepare a contingency for his plan being discovered are glaring deficiencies in his training. Had I conducted this operation, I would have¡­¡¯¡± His eyes went wide as he looked up at me and I grinned. ¡°Go on~.¡± ¡°¡®I would have first planted explosives in key government locations throughout the target city and held the city hostage, bluffing an act of terrorism should my target fail to come willingly if they proved incapable of subduing. When they refused, I would have detonated half of the explosives, claiming to have taken countless lives, then offered them one final chance to surrender.¡¯¡± He put the paper down. ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± ¡°Insane?¡± I asked, smiling. ¡°Deceive the heavens and cross the ocean.¡± I blinked. Raising an eyebrow, I asked, ¡°You¡¯ve read the thirty-six stratagems?¡±If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. At that, he leaned back in his seat, dark blue eyes studying me intently. ¡°I have,¡± he agreed. Considering him for a moment, I frowned. ¡°An educated man? Then you¡¯re not one of their meatheads and presumably have at least two brain cells to rub together.¡± Chucking, I turned in my chair, crossing one leg over my knee. ¡°They¡¯ve sent me someone dangerous. And you have still yet to answer my question. It¡¯s not simply because they¡¯ve thrown a sacrificial lamb before a hungry tiger, hoping to wet my appetite, and you¡¯re not just here to gauge the temperature before sending them in.¡± I knew the reason they had told him for sending him in¡ªthat they wanted him to soften me up and do a little pre-negotiation fact finding¡ªbut that wasn¡¯t necessarily the real reason. And the only way I was going to do that was by either figuring out just who this man was, or waiting for them to tip their hand. I personally suspected some sort of attempt at a double-cross, distracting me with talks of negotiation while they prepared another attempt at using physical and/or magical force. They were also waiting for confirmation from their scientists that the explosion was real. Due to just how little damage it had done, they were skeptical. I was tempted to shift my perspective over to see the faces of the men sent to examine the site of the blast¡­ and the glowing remains of the island still putting off enough mana to see. I had made sure it would be a constant, visible reminder of their failure for the next fifty years at minimum¡ªwith enough luminescence to light up the Washington, D.C. sky at night brightly enough that anyone nearby would require blackout curtains. ¡°I¡¯m just an analyst,¡± Mr. Thompson shrugged, before opening his briefcase and taking out a folder. ¡°I¡¯m kind of the expert on, well, you General.¡± ¡°Hoh?¡± I studied the folder, finding it had my name on it and, when he opened it, contained photos clearly taken from Imperial archives. ¡°Interesting~. And what have you learned?¡± ¡°Intelligent, driven, educated, highly skilled,¡± he left the file open and shrugged. ¡°All there in the file and your records. All obvious to anyone who cared to read. Or listen,¡± the last two words came out sounding mildly bitter. ¡°And beyond the obvious?¡± ¡°I was pretty sure, but wasn¡¯t certain until now. Feign madness but keep your balance, right?¡± My lips twitched as I fought a smile. ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about.¡± ¡°You like keeping your enemies off balance. Keep them guessing.¡± He studied my reaction and continued, ¡°You didn¡¯t come here to threaten. You came here to negotiate. But you needed a demonstration so that they would take you seriously. And¡­ you¡¯ve got a thing about showing proper deference and respect. I heard the broadcast you made, this morning. President Calvin¡¯s men struck some time late in the night, didn¡¯t they?¡± ¡°Tch,¡± I hissed, making an annoyed face. ¡°It was disrespectful. Just plain impolite. You don¡¯t kick in someone¡¯s door in the middle of the night, smack them around, shove a gun in their face, and start making demands and then get to whine about it when they turn it around and give you a taste of your own medicine! Your President is a spineless coward and a blustering blowhard, who runs his mouth when he feels like he has the upper hand, then cowers like a kicked dog when someone shows him just how wrong he was.¡± Standing, I began pacing, clasping my hands behind my back as I cast a glare the man¡¯s way. ¡°I understand tactics that involve attacking high ranking military or government officials, or heads of state, during wartime. I¡¯ve conducted such operations myself, after all! But that was against an enemy against whom we had declared war, not a completely uninvolved and neutral third party! The Great War is over. We¡¯re done. Out. My people and I are now working for a foreign country with whom the Unified States is not at war. And yet, tonight, you treated us as though we were. Or as though you thought you could get away with it. Two of my men, dead. Myself and my head scientist assaulted, with the intent to kidnap or kill us.¡± Mr. Thompson opened another folder from his briefcase. ¡°That would be¡­ Dr. Schugel, correct? Who was in the custody of the CIA in Germany and was transported here to the Unified States, when his plane went down and he was presumed lost, only to show up in Brasa some time later.¡± I waved a hand dismissively. ¡°I¡¯m sure you can¡¯t prove I had anything to do with that.¡± ¡°We can prove you were in the area.¡± ¡°A coincidence, I assure you! I was feeling homesick and merely wanted to go visit a friend and get some fine German chocolate. Perhaps your men simply put him on the wrong aircraft?¡± I suggested, grinning. ¡°Right,¡± Mr. Thompson drew out the word as he rolled his eyes. Leaning forward in his seat, he lowered his voice slightly. ¡°This is about MAD, isn¡¯t it?¡± I paused in my pacing, turning on my heel to regard him. ¡°You read my paper.¡± At his nod, I said, ¡°Then tell me¡­ what good is MAD if it is neither mutual nor assured?¡± ¡°¡­It¡¯s not?¡± Mr. Thompson asked, and from the look on his face, I could see he understood where I was going. ¡°Precisely,¡± I agreed, retaking my seat. ¡°Your bosses weren¡¯t convinced. Not by the paper. Not by the explosion that destroyed part of their fleet. Not by the demonstration I allowed Agent Singer to record and send home. They convinced themselves that they could strike at us, strike at me, without reprisal. So they launched a midnight raid, an assault on myself and my people. And in so doing, they gave me exactly what I wanted: an excuse. A reason to come up here and speak with them face to face. Their timing was poor, what with the communists attempting to make land on our borders, but I¡¯ll excuse it. I trust my men to handle it. ¡°Now, I¡¯ve demonstrated the opposite¡ªthat I can strike them without reprisal. Any time I see fit. And there is nothing they can do to stop it. Thus, I have assured them of their destruction, should they step out of line and not treat us with the proper respect. That if they attack us, we can and will retaliate, and there is nowhere they can hide to escape our reprisal. That we won¡¯t attack your people, we¡¯ll go after your leaders directly, first.¡± I smiled, and he tensed. ¡°I¡¯ve always favored leading with a decapitation strike. The difference between us is that if you try that with me, my men aren¡¯t going to flounder. They won¡¯t hesitate. They will wipe our enemies from the face of this Earth if it¡¯s the last thing they do.¡± Leaning back in my seat, I asked, ¡°But that simply brings us to AD, Assured Destruction. One side effectively holding a gun to the other¡¯s head.¡± I held up a hand, finger gun pointed at Mr. Thompson. ¡°Go ahead. Make my day.¡± Shaking my head, I lowered my hand. ¡°It¡¯s quite one-sided and leaves the one under the gun feeling pressured, wouldn¡¯t you agree?¡± Mr. Thompson¡¯s head jerkily nodded. ¡°That¡¯s what they were worried about, yes.¡± ¡°Which brings us here,¡± I gestured to the room. ¡°An enemy feeling cornered, lashing out because they believe it¡¯s the only way to survive. Which is why they came after me. Because they feared the potential of the technology we now possess, but they failed to grasp the intent, the meaning behind MAD. Tell me, your Second Amendment to your Constitution guarantees the right of your people to keep and bear arms, does it not?¡± ¡°It does.¡± ¡°Mm. And if I am armed, and you are armed, and everyone else in the room is armed¡­ if you and I have a disagreement, is it going to devolve into fisticuffs and drawn pistols?¡± ¡°An armed society is a polite society. I explained that to them and they didn¡¯t believe it.¡± I chuckled, shaking my head. ¡°No, I¡¯m pretty sure they believed it, but it goes against what they want. It goes against your current political doctrine: speak softly and carry a big stick. Your people are still following what we call big stick diplomacy. The problem is, you want to have the biggest, or only stick and anyone else having a stick, especially a stick bigger than yours, or one you don¡¯t have is threatening. Which again, makes you act like cornered rats.¡± ¡°I kind of resent that remark,¡± Mr. Thompson frowned, and I shrugged. ¡°Then perhaps your leaders should stop acting the part?¡± Shaking my head, I continued. ¡°Before this morning, I was hoping that you would catch up and become a peer. That your people would join me at the table,¡± I thumped the table we sat at. ¡°Certainly, you weren¡¯t going to sit at the head of the table as I¡¯m sure you would have liked¡ªI was here first, after all. But you were welcome to join me as peers. As equals.¡± The man sitting next to me swallowed on a dry throat. ¡°And now?¡± ¡°And now, I¡¯m going to push for your unconditional surrender,¡± I smiled again, and this time it had the desired result as he shivered. ¡°Until that oaf and everyone who instigated this incident are out of office or fired, you don¡¯t deserve a seat at my table. I don¡¯t trust you not to start spinning a loaded pistol around your finger like an idiot and wind up shooting someone, including yourself. You are clearly neither ready nor responsible enough for the technology.¡± He considered for a moment, before repeating, ¡°¡®Push for?¡¯¡± I shrugged. ¡°At the end of the day, all politics is a negotiation. You don¡¯t open negotiations with a reasonable offer, otherwise you don¡¯t get what you want as the other party will try to fight it and negotiate down. Start with an offer that sounds so insane your opponent is certain to reject it. He will likewise propose a similarly insane offer. Then, once both initial offers are off the table, we work our way towards a compromise somewhere in the middle, with that compromise preferably getting you what you wanted in the first place and perhaps a little more. That is the art of negotiation. Thus, my opening offer is your complete and total unconditional surrender, cessation of all hostilities, and cessation of all nuclear armament development.¡± Taking the short stack of papers to my left, I passed them to Mr. Thompson. ¡°My list of demands are there. Take them to your superiors. Then remind them that if I am not back or don¡¯t make contact within twenty-four hours, my men will assume the worst and launch a first strike, so they should perhaps put a hurry on it.¡± Taking the papers and stuffing them into his briefcase along with the folders he¡¯d pulled out, Mr. Thompson stood, only to pause. After a moment, I felt a minute ping from his mana¡ªdirected at me and not strong enough to leak from the room. I quirked an eyebrow and smirked when he paled, his hand clenching his briefcase. ¡°What really happened to the fleet pursuing you in the Atlantic?¡± Reaching out, I shorted out all of the recording equipment in the room, then cast a formula to create a soundproof bubble around us. ¡°Do you really want to know?¡± He hesitated, before nodding. ¡°I saw something this morning. Something I can¡¯t explain. You set off that bomb. I felt the mana coming off of it. Then it all just¡­ reversed. Like it was being sucked up. And there you were. Glowing.¡± ¡°You¡¯re the expert, Mr. Thompson. Do you believe I would waste resources when a perfectly convincing alternative exists?¡± Thinking about it for a moment, he shook his head. ¡°No. That¡¯s,¡± he frowned, ¡°Create something from nothing.¡± ¡°A few of them cover it, really,¡± I nodded. ¡°It¡¯s obviously not from nothing. I quite clearly have the capability to deliver kiloton to megaton range strikes whenever I want, to whomever I want. But why waste a perfectly good satellite?¡± ¡°You¡­¡± ¡°Yes?¡± I smiled, nodding encouragingly. ¡°Go on.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not¡ª¡± ¡°Not possible, yes?¡± I asked, and he nodded. ¡°I would have thought so too, before.¡± Standing, I moved away from the table. ¡°The short answer is, I died. The longer answer¡­ I became something more than human.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°You felt it, didn¡¯t you? My mana. There¡¯s just too much, right?¡± At his nod, I continued. ¡°You¡¯ve heard of the theory of mana fixing, of course.¡± Mr. Thompson nodded again. ¡°Of course. It¡¯s a theory that¡¯s been around almost as long as magic itself. How do I get more mana? Obviously, find a way to store it. But it was thought impossible, until we saw the explosions.¡± ¡°The good doktor is responsible for that. Herr Doktor Schugel created a new type of multi-core computation orb.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve seen the reports. The Type 97, wasn¡¯t it? A two-core orb.¡± ¡°Correct. But before that came the Type 95. A four-core computation orb, capable of fixing mana. I was the only one it would work for. It was more of a curse than a gift. A monkey¡¯s paw, really,¡± I grumbled. ¡°I wish I could store mana infinitely! Then came the downside. Of course, but your effectiveness because of it will see you thrown into battle time and again, never to know peace.¡± Letting out a sigh, I shook my head as I began rolling up my left sleeve. ¡°I suppose I should thank it. After all, it taught me something I couldn¡¯t learn anywhere else.¡± Mr. Thompson¡¯s mouth opened and closed once, before he murmured, ¡°You figured out how to fix mana without it.¡± ¡°Precisely. When we were attacked, I used the stored mana within the Type 95 to destroy the fleet. That is the basis for the mana bomb. It killed me. Or nearly did. But it was still all just my own mana. All me. So I reached out, grabbed it, and fixed it in place.¡± I gestured down at my body, ¡°Just as you see now.¡± ¡°But¡ª¡± Holding up my left arm, I conjured a mage blade in my right and flicked it through my own wrist. The flesh parted easily as I pulled mana away from beneath it. I caught my own hand as it fell through the air. Mr. Thompson dropped his briefcase, starting to rush forward, only to stop as I held up the stump for him to see. A layer of flesh covered the outside, while inside, mana took the form of everything that should be inside¡ªmuscle, bone, tissue, and blood. Blood which didn¡¯t leak all over the place because it was just my mana, and a placeholder replicating real blood until I ate enough to replace the biology I had lost. Pushing outwards with mana, I made myself a new hand¡ªa glowing construct made of mana. I waved with it and hesitantly, he reached out and touched it. ¡°You seem to have dropped your briefcase. Let me give you a hand,¡± I grinned, tossing the fleshy hand towards it. Mr. Thompson leapt back as the severed hand landed atop the case, only to stand up on its fingers, like a certain other hand I remembered from an old American black and white horror/comedy. He watched, mouth agape, as my hand moved around and grabbed the handle, before flying back towards my body. Dismissing the new hand, I held out the stump and the detached hand thumped onto the end. A moment later, the cut sealed up like it had never been there. I placed the briefcase on the table and flexed my hand, showing it was now good as new. ¡°As you can see, I don¡¯t so much have mana as I am mana. What you felt this morning was me just pulling back part of myself I used for the blast. I don¡¯t use a computation orb any more. Don¡¯t need it.¡± Retaking my seat, I added, ¡°And no one will believe you. Because it¡¯s impossible. Or the implications are, well¡­¡± I shook my head, remembering what Visha had told me aboard the Ingrid about how the men felt after my resurrection, and how the way they acted had changed in subtle ways at times. They were good at hiding it, but I could see the looks they gave me. ¡°I,¡± he swallowed thickly. ¡°I don¡¯t believe I will, no. I¡¯m not sure my career would survive it, without more convincing evidence than a recording on my orb.¡± ¡°You should go speak with your superiors. They¡¯re probably worried, because I disabled the recording devices. Give them my list of demands and tell them I am ready to negotiate. Remind them that they are working on a,¡± I let out a dark chuckle, ¡°deadline. Oh! And if you don¡¯t mind, could you get someone to see about bringing me some food. It¡¯s nearing lunch time and no one has so much as offered me a coffee. You really are quite poor hosts! If I were hosting you in Brasa, we would already be sharing lunch.¡± Mr. Thompson took his briefcase and hurried out of the room, the door thumping closed behind him. I watched as he practically ran down the hall to the other end of the White House. Kicking back in my chair, I propped my boots up on the table and waited. If they try to pull this kind of stunt again, I¡¯m going to march my men through this city blasting Erika! over a P.A. formula while we sing¡­ and I¡¯ll substitute kiloton mana explosions for the drums.