CHAPTER - V

GENERAL STAFF OFFICE, CONFERENCE ROOM 1

-x-X-x-

"We've finally curbed the deterioration of the situation on the western front."

Brigadier General von Zettour, who was in charge of the Service Corps, was in conference room 1 of the General Staff Office relaying a report that gave everyone the first cause for relief in a very long time. The dire situation in the Western theater had marginally improved.

"We do, however, remain somewhat cornered overall."

A map on the wall of the conference room showed that the western army was still stubbornly holding out. Their failure to make the first move had allowed the François Republic to push back their lines, but at least the advance toward the Rhine industrial region had been stopped. Of course, the fighting strength of forces on the front lines was nearing the limit; the dogged resistance had left nearly every unit with casualties. They were on the cusp of resorting to prematurely scraping together new units and rushing them from the capital in piecemeal deployments.

Slowly but surely, pressure was increasing along the whole line. Even some of the rear positions were within range of strikes by enemy mages.

"The assembly and redeployment of the main forces of the Great Army is complete."

The Western Army Group had held out even longer than the national defense plan, Plan 315, imagined they could, and they'd succeeded in buying a decisive amount of time. It was just enough for the Empire to deploy the Great Army, its primary fighting force. The reorganization of the lines was proceeding apace.

This entailed, of course, a large-scale redeployment from the north to the west, but the railroads were an even bigger bottleneck on mobility than they had feared. As a result, everything was behind schedule. That said, with the defensive wall of the Great Army, there was still time to reorganize.

"…Although we've only just managed to make it in time."

But the faces of the General Staff did not look happy or relieved. They and Zettour were all aware of the problem facing them: the difficulty of responding quickly in the time they had. Time, time, time. It was one of the great, ever-present challenges in waging a war.

Yes, the Great Army had been redeployed in time, but the General Staff recognized that the situation had gotten down to the wire. Though they had counted on moving their forces efficiently via interior lines, it was proving harder than anticipated. That meant they couldn't hope for the strategic flexibility they had expected to have before the war began.

The standing forces from Central were meant to compensate as relief forces, but the western front had shown that deploying such a small force would be like tossing a thimbleful of water at a raging fire. Even if they could respond quickly, numbers were a huge problem.

"The Service Corps has to recommend that we focus on developing a unit capable of rapid response."

"Operations concurs that we need a mobile force that can be used at will and that has a measure of firepower."

Essentially, they had to make the Great Army easy to move. That was the military's unanimous opinion. They wanted to adjust the rail schedules to enable the smooth transport of troops on a vast scale. After all, the Empire's strategy, focusing all their strength on one front to achieve victory there, would succeed or fail based on speed.

But there was also a pronounced desire for a better quick reaction force, a reserve unit that could move quickly to address any situation, as Brigadier General von Zettour had calmly suggested and Brigadier General von Rudersdorf had seconded. It was critical to have a unit that could help fight fires when large-scale deployments would be unable to address a problem in time.

"In addition, the Service Corps suggests we look into a national defense strategy predicated on the assumption of fighting a two-front war."

Zettour's sudden additional suggestion was a reevaluation of where troops were most needed. That is, the risk that one front would fall apart while the other was achieving victory had become too great in recent years. There were many in the Service Corps, Zettour chief among them, who harbored doubts about the interior lines strategy, believing there were limits to how long they could pretend it was working.

Wasn't it time to change the military's doctrines and prepare for a two-front war? They felt it was no longer feasible to have regional commands mainly focused on defense and use the venerable Great Army for offensive maneuvers.

"I don't have any objection to research as such, but…practically speaking, we must absolutely avoid the opening of a second front."

But the ironclad rule against dividing one's forces had been constant in every era. Bring all your power to bear on one enemy, and once you've dealt with them, turn to the next foe. The General Staff saw this as the golden rule of their interior lines strategy.

Above all, Rudersdorf and Operations had a hard time denying the effectiveness of overwhelming the enemy with an all-out frontal attack by concentrating their forces.

"Operations agrees with building a shelter against every storm, but we need to prioritize finding a way to avoid a two-front war."

"It'll be difficult, considering the Empire's geopolitical situation, General von Rudersdorf."

"I can't deny that. But what you're proposing, in the worst-case scenario, would leave all our lines undermanned."

Gain partial superiority and employ the regional armies to buy time until overall victory can be achieved. It was a strategy born of the Empire's history as a polity surrounded on all sides, as well as simple geopolitical necessity. If the nation was powerful enough to put up fierce fights on two separate fronts, this wouldn't have been a problem to begin with.

"And what if things don't go so well? We have no choice but to shore up the regional armies until we can improve the functionality of our interior network."

Although the regional forces were decently sized, the Republican Army had nonetheless brought the ones in the west to the brink of destruction. The fact also loomed large that if the Great Army hadn't arrived in time, the critical western industrial area would have fallen. The interior lines strategy hinged on the premise that one front could hold the line.

Hence, Zettour and the Service Corps' claim was not necessarily mistaken that their most pressing task was to strengthen their defense.

"At present, a large-scale restructuring of military districts would be difficult. Does anyone have any other ideas?"

Reorganizing military districts was a massive undertaking even in peacetime. Trying to reorganize commands while actively fighting a war was next to impossible. It was like trying to switch all the forwards and fullbacks around in the middle of a soccer game. The best you could hope for would be chaos.

"In that case, I'd like to propose the creation of a quick reaction force. We need a unit with improved ability to theater-hop, one we can deploy when needed, where needed."

The idea of a quick reaction force was one some had been advocating for some time. There had always been those who wanted a unit on the scale of an army that could move fairly rapidly to wherever the fighting was. The Service Corps had been pulling for it recently, in particular, rallying around their deputy director, Zettour.

"That's something Operations can agree to. Depending on the scale, that is."

Operations, which had to deal with the practical employment of troops, was able to see eye to eye with the Service Corps, recognizing the need to improve their ability to react quickly. Up until now, the Great Army was intended to fill that role, but it had grown too large. Without the heroic fighting of the western army, the western industrial area would have been captured, and the Empire would be drafting provisions for peace talks.

"On that point, the Service Corps suggests beefing up the reserves by strengthening Central troops. The prompt resistance from the Western and Central Army Groups was truly superb."

That was why Zettour was making his recommendations now. They had always avoided the step of creating a standing reserve that they could deploy in an emergency to the west on the grounds that it would leave soldiers idling, but with necessity closing in, no one could argue.

"We would also have to consider the eastern and southern regional armies when conducting the reorganization."

"Absolutely. It's not right for only the troops in the west to get all the medals."

"It's skewing the war college's admissions recommendations by achievement, and they're getting more of the assignments to Central. I'm sure it irks the regional armies."

As with any organization, there would be a great many things for the Imperial Army to consider if it was going to do any restructuring. It was true that the Western Army Group had been getting an overwhelming number of decorations and bonuses because of their stalwart fighting. Budget limitations meant there were only so many awards to go around, and the other regional commands were getting the short end of the stick. It had already begun to warp the officer corps. Some officers were being surpassed by not only their own former classmates but also those who had started after them. Thanks to the flood of recommendations to the war college, the Eastern Army Group had grudgingly given up some of their slots to the west.

"I wouldn't underestimate the effect this is having."

"Indeed. Discontent is especially rife among the Eastern Army Group. They're bearing the brunt of it."

As Personnel pointed out, this was not an ideal situation from a human resources perspective. Soldiers were being left behind while the Western and Northern Army Groups amassed achievements. Those who had once been treated so well for their crucial defense of the eastern border suddenly found themselves paid less, their ranks lowered. It was only natural for them to feel upset. Brilliant deeds in battle were all well and good, but the fear of being surpassed by juniors and peers was a significant worry, though it lurked below the surface.

"The Eastern Army Group have had nothing to do with either the Entente Alliance or the Republic. They are holding down the eastern border, but people look down on them as freeloaders."

"Lack of combat experience is another problem. We need some kind of balance."

The soldiers' feelings were an issue, but the real problem was the imbalance in combat experience. It wouldn't do to fight the entire war with troops from the Western Army Group. They had to assume the troops in the east would engage at some point. It would be a waste to have them watch from the sidelines until a battle began in their region.

Yet transferring large numbers of veterans from the west to train the men in the east was equally out of the question.

"In other words, you want to create a unit with some degree of flexibility, drawing mainly from the Eastern Army Group?"

In that case, the most realistic proposal would be to take a unit from the Eastern Army Group to form the quick reaction force. What Rudersdorf of Operations wanted to confirm with Personnel was whether they felt forces from the east should be used to form this new unit.

It wouldn't be real war experience, but it would be more beneficial than leaving them totally bereft of any sense of meaning to their fight. On top of lessening the burden on the Western Army Group, it was also liable to reduce the amount of squabbling over the budget.

"So we'd like to attempt this on the scale of a division. Consider it an experiment in strategic mobility."

Even so, the suggestion would not go without debate. Zettour's group was very interested in this experiment in rapid deployment, but mate´riel was limited. If people agreed to the idea but not to the scale, consensus would be hard to come by. They proposed experimenting on the division level in conjunction with the Railroad Department, but that was too much to ask during a war. It had revitalized interest in a quick reaction force, but the opposition was entrenched.

"I'm against it. We only have two reserve divisions in the east."

In the eyes of Operations, the idea of pulling troops was out of the question given the limited number of reserves.

"That's too big a scale. Our defense in the east would be stretched too thin."

They took a lesson from the previous failure: During the reorganization of the Great Army, defenses in the west had become fragile. The whole reason the Western Army Group was in such a tough battle was that the assumptions of the national defense strategy had failed to prove accurate. Thus, although the Eastern Army Group was far from the main conflict, it would be dangerous to take too many troops away.

After all, aside from stationary personnel, the Eastern Army Group had only a single army as a strategic reserve. It was only natural that there would be objections when they were already at the minimum possible number of reserve forces and the proposal was to take even more away.

"What if we were to draw from both the eastern and southern armies?" "Maybe after the situation in the north is resolved."

They would gain some leeway after the Entente Alliance troops in the north had been mopped up. But as a practical issue, although the main Great Army force had crushed the main enemy force, it would take time to truly overwhelm them. To take units from the east and south at this point would be like putting the cart before the horse. It was completely unacceptable to create a rescue squad at the expense of weakening their national borders.

"Then let's just try one part of it. How about putting a battalion of mages under a Readiness Command at Central?"

He appeared to be proposing a compromise, but in fact this was what the Service Corps had wanted all along. The idea of a quick reaction mage battalion had already been suggested by a group helmed by Zettour.

"Your pet project? Very well, I agree."

A battalion-sized experiment didn't leave much for Operations to object to. Their division was primarily concerned with tactics on the corps level; they could compensate for losing mages if it was just a battalion.

And actually, they would even welcome having a battalion of mages they could flexibly deploy anywhere on the front lines.

"You want to pull an entire battalion's worth of mages?"

"The eastern army should have the forces available. Anyway, a battalion of mages would be easier to transport by air. They'd be very easy to deploy."

Some were leery of drawing down the fighting power of the Eastern Army Group, but others pointed out how mobile they would be. A battalion of mages was thirty-six people. It would be easier to transport than a company of infantry.

Even if a unit of thirty-six people needed forty-five days of regulation supplies, the logistical impact would be relatively low. If need be, the unit would even be able to move from the west to the east within a day.

"Very well, then. We authorize the experimental creation of a mage battalion—under the direct command of the General Staff Office."

It was never an idea that would invite much objection.

"We'll pass on the idea of a Readiness Command for now, but let's see how the unit performs."

The Readiness Command he had tried to squeak through had been too much to ask, but they had been permitted their experiment. The creation of a quick reaction mage battalion would almost certainly lead to the creation of a Readiness Command in the future.

"All right, gentlemen, let's proceed to the next order of business."

It looked like he would be able to keep his promise. Zettour surreptitiously sighed in relief. Then he switched gears and focused on the next issue.

-x-X-x-

JUNE 23, UNIFIED YEAR 1967, LONDINIUM, WTN PRESSROOM

-x-X-x-

The world war has many mysteries.

Materials from the Empire, in particular, are full of questions, owing largely to the chaos of the final days of the conflict. Both sides are believed to have committed wrong, but everything is hidden behind a thick veil of secrecy to this day. I was part of the war, too, as an embedded reporter with World Today News. Like so many of my generation who were connected in some way with the great war, I want to know the truth.

It isn't about assigning blame. I just want to know what really happened. I teamed up with some like-minded friends, and together we decided to seek the truth. We pitched the WTN editorial staff on the idea of a documentary.

I have to confess, even I didn't know where to start. Luckily, though, I was able to gain the support of my friends and sympathetic superiors.

Still, the question of how to begin remained. What was the truth of the war? Some argued that it might be different for each person, which left us directionless. Several documents were declassified, but rather than clarifying the big picture, they only raised even more questions.

Initially, we focused on materials from the Commonwealth, which was relatively quick to declassify things. To start with, we tried researching the Dakar Incident from the latter half of the war. It was an action in the south considered by many to be a diversionary tactic.

Famously, all seven of the ships in Commonwealth Navy's Second Squadron, including Hood, its flagship, were sunk. How was that squadron sent to the bottom so suddenly? It had to be related to the reason the documents were classified.

We hypothesized that false intelligence led the Empire to concentrate their intercepting forces at Dakar. In other words, the Commonwealth sacrificed Second Squadron to take the focus off a planned ambush of the Empire, who was expected to win the war. Perhaps that explains why the materials were classified.

We theorized that some kind of plot was at work on the battlefield. I had heard rumors of dirty dealings during my time as a correspondent, enough to make me suspect that the documents would back up our idea. We rushed to read the declassified information, but our expectations were betrayed.

"The worst day in the history of the Commonwealth Navy was caused by xxxxxxxxxxx."

Only that single sentence was declassified, and everyone who had anything to do with the army had clammed up and was refusing to comment.

Serendipitously, it was around that time that an acquaintance of mine, a military historian, said something very interesting. He hinted that if I analyzed the battlefield rumors very carefully, I would find the truth.

For example, the eleven-character code xxxxxxxxxxx could be found all over. He speculates that it was the code name of some high-ranking officer or spy. We dubbed it the Eleventh Goddess, after the figure on the tarot card, and began our investigation.

The results were startling. The Eleventh Goddess appeared in nearly all of the Empire's major battles. The earliest instance we could find was from two years before the war. One country's intelligence agency reported her in the area of a border dispute. That led us to hypothesize that it might have referred to an intelligence agent of some sort.

But we noticed something odd. Some of those who had been on the front lines had a strange reaction to the name we picked. They claimed it was the worst joke they'd ever heard.

Perhaps there was more than one meaning behind eleven x's, and they were all getting jumbled together? We took a tip from statistics and tried using context and location clues to deduce the most logical "xxxxxxxxxxx."

xxxxxxxxxxx came up most frequently in the Rhine Air Battle (sometimes considered the war's deciding battle). It was feared as the most intense combat zone—"30 percent sky and 70 percent blood"—where mages patrolled the airspace.

As luck would have it, my colleague Craig and I had been dispatched there by WTN, so we witnessed the scene. It had many names: "Rhine where the devils live," "the graveyard of the Named," "the battlefield where even silver rusts." They all sound absurdly exaggerated and unrealistic during peacetime, but they're true. I can say from personal experience that there was an honest to God devil on that battlefield.

For example, say I meet a friendly mage in a bar and we get along famously. Just six hours later, he's been turned into few scraps of meat and I'm attending his funeral. This wasn't uncommon. It happened to me three times.

An aerial mage officer I'd grown close to once said, "Humans cease to be human over there"—just before he was killed in battle. I can still remember it so vividly. That battlefield was a collection of every sort of human madness.

The various reports about the battles on the Rhine Front remained behind a heavy veil of classifieds. That must have been related to the rumors about what happened in that abnormal, blood-soaked world.

In any event, the Eleventh Goddess was a supreme presence in the Rhine Air Battle.

We became fixated on her. Despite knowing it is hopeless, we interviewed a number of people who were with the Imperial Army at the time, and as expected, all our investigation revealed was that the wall of need to know was far thicker than we imagined. One former member of the General Staff gave us a single word.

He said he wanted us to make it public when we could no longer communicate with him. I wanted to ask what he meant, but when I tried contacting him about it, I never heard back. Let the record state that I haven't been able to reach him to this day.

Out of respect for the promise I made, I'm writing here the word that he told me on the condition of anonymity.

V600.

We're going to get to the bottom of this mystery. We want to know what happened during that mad time.

(Text by: Andrew, WTN special correspondent)

-x-X-x-

KLÜGEL STRASSE, THIRD DISTRICT, ZOLKA CAFÉ

-x-X-x-

Really, time spent on education at the war college is a luxury. For that reason, many subjects get covered only in a cursory way during a war, but by the same token, the curriculum becomes more practical. Some people even feel that's an improvement. A track that normally takes two years to complete has been shaved down to less than one, but it's more intense. As someone currently enrolled myself, I also find it an improvement.

I would like to think my talents are in no way inferior to those of my classmates, but sitting side by side with so many future heroes makes me realize what a vast place the world is. Still, I feel lucky.

My parents didn't force me to be a soldier, but when I graduated from the military academy, they were as proud as if they'd done it themselves. I count meeting my wife, who I'm hardly worthy of, as my greatest happiness.

My daughter, who was just born the other day, is utterly precious.

Perhaps it was being a new father that made me to want to ask about something I'd never paid much attention to before.

I was in a quiet cafe´ near Saint Gregorius Church. Just as I was told, a little girl has casually dropped her rifle and computation orb on the table and is ordering lunch. A member of the military police I know clued me in that she eats here every Sunday.

His theory was that it was because there were no other cafe´s that happened to be next to churches you could enter with a weapon.

"Captain Uger, what a surprise to see you here."

Suddenly, I find that First Lieutenant Degurechaff has followed the waiter's gaze to me. She greets me with a perfect salute. I return it and approach her seat, ordering something or other from the waiter and pressing a tip into his hand to buy us a little time alone. This won't be an easy conversation to have with so many people around.

"Oh, er, I just heard you always eat here. Do you have a moment?" "Certainly. Please join me."

As she offers a chair, I notice how well she wears her uniform, not even a hint of affectation. Frankly, it suits her so well that if I saw her in civilian clothes, I wouldn't recognize her. It makes more sense to call her a first lieutenant than an eleven-year- old.

She doesn't appear to have any personal belongings that weren't given to her by the government. Perhaps we can include the newspaper spread across the table and the Londinium Times and WTN special issue filled with notes. Ah, yes. The war college did encourage us to learn the languages of surrounding countries. The Londinium Times and the WTN magazine from neutral zones are among the best materials that are easy to obtain. But maybe it's a stretch to call them personal belongings.

"Do you come here often, Captain?"

She stops writing in the newspaper and looks at me. Though I doubt she intended it, a shiver runs down my spine. This small girl is one of the most distinguished of the Imperial Army's mages, an Ace of Aces. Yet as a father with a daughter, there is something I have to know.

"Miss Degurechaff, pardon a rude question, but why did you enlist?" "Huh?"

I mulled over what to ask her but decided there was no point in dressing it up. That blunt question was the result, but now it sounds too simplistic, and she doesn't understand what I was trying to ask.

Never in a million years did I think I would ever see Lieutenant Degurechaff look perplexed. She's said to wear an iron mask, but apparently she does have expressions. Not many of them, perhaps, but although it's disrespectful to say so, I am relieved to find something human about her.

"Er, please don't think of it as a question from a captain. Just a curious fellow student." I don't want her to say what she thinks a superior officer wants to hear. I'm interested in how she truly feels. "With your talent, you must have any number of options. Why the military?"

If she were nothing more than a talented mage, her choices would have been more limited. The army is hungry for capable mages and snaps up anyone with aptitude without much concern for age, so it wouldn't have been terribly surprising if she had been conscripted despite her youth. If that were all, she would have been used as just another weapon.

Still, there should have been time before they pulled her in. It's worth noting that she got into the war college on merit alone. At a mere eleven years of age, she became a member of the honorable Twelve Knights of the war college, albeit the lowest-ranked one. If she had only magic affinity, she would have only been a weapon, but with her talent, she could have been a researcher or an engineer—anything at all. The Imperial University allows early entrance, and not only do they comp tuition for exceptional students, they even give stipends. Every path should have been open to her.

"…My father was in the military." "Was? So he's… I'm sorry."

The word was sticks out to me, and I quickly realize the implication. It's a common story. Death is never far from members of the Imperial Army. Anyone can die at any time.

And each dead soldier has a household, the family they leave behind. "Please don't let it trouble you. I'm hardly unique these days."

Lieutenant Degurechaff smiles, showing no sign of distress, as if to say she has already adjusted, but I can't help thinking that having to understand so much at that age is tragic. Did she join the army for revenge?

"There was no other way for an orphan like me. We have little choice in the world." But her answer is one I never even imagined.

"But you made it into the military academy. Surely that means you could have chosen a normal high school."

She has overcome so many hurdles, and at her age. I know some who would have been thrilled to support a wunderkind like her. Why did she say she had no choice?

"Captain, if you'll forgive my saying so, I think your family must have been quite well- off."

"Not really. Happy, yes, but ordinary."

My father was a mid-level bureaucrat, and my mother from an average household. We had no ties to any higher status. My grandfather on my father's side was in the navy, so they were happy when I expressed interest in the armed services, but that was about it.

What Lieutenant Degurechaff says next shocks me beyond words.

"Ahh, I really envy you. An orphan simply has no options. All I could do was scrape by day to day."

In her mind, she seems to be going back to the times she went hungry. Though she doesn't say anything, her whole body exudes an aura that tells how terrible her circumstances were. The atmosphere becomes heavy, and before I know it, my back has hit the back of my chair. I realize I'm being overwhelmed—by an eleven-year-old girl.

"But if your father was in the military…surely, there must be a pension."

"Captain, I'm a bastard child who can't even remember her mother's face. If it weren't for the orphanage, I would be dead in the streets right now."

One of the church orphanages. That explains a lot. Though she had a rough start, she was saved by the church. Is that why she's so passionate about attending? Perhaps that's why she prays so fervently.

But even if that is true…

"But—you know. How do I put this? You're still a child. You should quit the military."

Even if there is no way she can leave in the middle of a war, she shouldn't abandon other potential future paths. These creatures called soldiers are fundamentally idlers by necessity. And yet when the time comes, they have to be prepared to die.

For a child to choose such a vocation is a tragedy.

"…Captain Uger, do you doubt my ability?" she asks me with a pale face, telling me I've gone too far. I made the mistake, if unintentionally, of showing a soldier what amounts to pity. She may be young, but she has her pride and honor.

"Absolutely not! I just can't help feeling it's wrong that a child like you should go to war."

It sounds like I'm trying to defend myself, but I mean it. Her eyes challenge me, but she is still a child, a little girl who should be protected. Who would want to send their daughter off to war?

Just the thought of sending my newborn child to the battlefield nearly drives me mad. Surely Lieutenant Degurechaff's father, who risked his life for the Empire, wouldn't want this, either. As a father myself, I just know.

"It's my duty. So long as I'm a soldier, I can't avoid it."

Her response is calm, an unfaltering declaration. She seems to embody what it means to be a soldier. This is no mere facade; it's as if, with no other way to go, she has built her self-awareness around being a member of the military.

Where is her true self?

"Do you really mean that?"

That is how I end up asking such a meaningless question. But she looks at me, and her gaze is so serious that I know she didn't miss my intention. She could never have said what she did as a joke or a lie.

What's more, she has plenty of combat experience. Her statement wasn't the empty rhetoric of someone who has never seen battle. It was an unshakable conviction coated in lead and gunsmoke.

"Captain, is something wrong?"

She must have suspected something from my worries. She probes, careful to remain polite. I find it almost unbearable.

"My wife had a baby. I hear it's a girl." "That's wonderful news."

She offers her congratulations, but out of politeness; she even seems somewhat sad. She speaks dispassionately, less out of love for a child and more because congratulations is what an auspicious event demands. It's as if that world has nothing to do with her.

"When I look at you, I can't help but wonder if my daughter will go to war."

She has already opened up quite a bit. I even think she has shared her genuine feelings. But to my disappointment, I'm still running up against an impassable barrier of contradiction and uneasiness. "There's something wrong with a society that sends cute little kids to battle, don't you think?" I hardly know what I'm trying to say. I'm just giving voice to the emotions welling up inside me.

I can see that she's examining me. Honestly, I didn't expect to lose myself to such an extent. But once the words are out, there's no taking them back. After she observes me at length, Lieutenant Degurechaff replies deliberately, like a shrine maiden delivering a divine message.

"Captain, you're a sensible man. I suggest you resign." It is as if our positions have been reversed.

"I never know what you're going to say next. How can you tell me to leave when it's vitally important for us to put an end to this war so it doesn't continue on into the next generation?"

"You're a man of sound judgment who knows the realities of the battlefield. Your resignation could in fact be an asset."

Think about it, she seems to say, clenching her little fist on the table to emphasize her point. You should leave.

"I'm a soldier, too. I don't know how to be anything else."

"No, Captain. You have a rational mind. Let me give you some advice as a fellow student: At least get to the rear before the real insanity breaks loose."

"They would never allow it."

This is war. The easy days of doing work behind a desk are over. And how can I shamefully withdraw on my own, leaving my friends, classmates, and brothers-in- arms? We vowed to fight together. I could never abandon them.

"Captain, living is a battle in itself. You can fight to keep your daughter out of the fray." "…I'll think about it."

I have no counterargument. I oppose the idea, but I have no further way to express that. This eleven-year-old child has completely dumbfounded me. There are no words.

"There isn't much time. You should decide soon." "You sound like a member of the General Staff." "It's the only education I've had."

I must not have been thinking straight. Telling a fellow student at the war college that they sound like a General Staff officer is meaningless. That's precisely the type of role we're being groomed for.

If anything, what I said is a compliment—I have used that sentence in the most incorrect way possible. It makes me realize how profoundly shaken I am.

"…I see. You're right, of course."

You're right. That's all I can muster. I'm taken aback at how lost for words I am. "Oh, our food is here. Let's eat together."

"…Yes, let's."

When I meet Captain Uger at lunch, he seems agitated by the birth of his daughter. Well, I certainly agree with the notion that becoming a parent leads to major psychological changes.

In any case, now Captain Uger will be dropping out of the promotion track at the war college. Whichever fascist advocated making your case when your opponent was emotionally vulnerable was a devilish genius. Captain Uger had enough tact not to protest the hit his reputation took when he requested a rear-line posting. With him out of the way, I can just barely make it into the top twelve of the college's hundred students. Thanks to that I'll be able to add von19 to my name, even if for only a generation, and become a member of the General Staff.

I'll be able to take advantage of my experience at the war college to get a career. There will be trouble later if I rise too high, but if my rank is too low, I won't be able to act freely. In that sense, getting "superior" ratings and earning the honorable appellation of Knight of the War College seems about right. It's just a question of studying and getting along with instructors.

Considering my fighting spirit has come into question, my current status seems appropriate. I'll have to be a little more assertive. Luck won't always be on my side, so I need to be careful.

At least today I caught a break. I have Captain Uger wrapped around my little finger. And I've been invited to dinner at the General Staff Office tonight, so I'm sure something is up. The food in their cafeteria isn't quite as good as the navy's, but I've heard it's all right. I'll be looking forward to it.

-x-X-x-

GENERAL STAFF OFFICE, DINING ROOM 1 (ARMY)

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While a couple of classmates from the war college were discussing their careers at a restaurant somewhere in town, a similar conversation was taking place over a meal at the General Staff Office's dining room 1—granted, the latter was constrained by etiquette and tradition.

At one point, the Imperial Army had constructed an extravagant dining room at the General Staff Office. No one much cared for it; soldiers considered it an absolute waste, and officers complained that it was inconvenient. But one word from the navy changed everybody's tune. Someone commented, "The army sure knows how to waste resources—even in their dining halls."

The navy had a laugh, but the army responded by suggesting that there should be less excess in the construction of warships, saying they couldn't understand people who went to war in "floating hotels."

Now the army was so united on the issue that any criticism of the banquet room was practically considered traitorous. Mealtime meetings would be held there just to prove that the army was using the place. Word that the opulent venue would be the site of another lunch meeting reached Lieutenant Colonel von Lergen just as he was setting his briefcase on his desk in Operations, back from his inspection tour of the northern and western fronts. He was accustomed to such conferences—it was the topic of discussion that troubled him.

"I'm against it. I absolutely oppose."

His eyes had nearly popped out of his head when he opened the letter. He would never accept this. Obsessed to distraction, he had gotten little work done in the morning and hardly touched his food. As the lone voice of opposition among the high-ranking officers at the table, he fought fiercely to defend his position.

"Colonel von Lergen, I very much respect your opinion, but you must be more objective."

Unfortunately, his immediate superior, Brigadier General von Rudersdorf, deputy director of operations in the General Staff, did not support his perspective. After all, this was part of the tactical improvements he had been waiting for. He couldn't be expected to give up so easily. But to Lergen, who had seen the situation on the ground with his own eyes, the proposal was too dangerous.

"Giving her command of the quick response battalion is out of the question. She's the kind who won't stop advancing until everyone is dead. You'd be throwing your mages away!"

First Lieutenant von Degurechaff had been promoted to captain upon graduation from the war college. He had been afraid of this, but there was still time to change things. He had let his guard down, thinking she could still possibly be put in Technology or the instructor unit. He never imagined that the brass would create an experimental battalion under her direct command.

Oh my God! That would be nothing short of a nightmare. She's too dangerous. That paper showcases her true nature.

"Yes, we've heard your objections, but the instructors at the war college say she loves her soldiers."

It was true that some of the teachers at the academy supported Lergen's view. They said she was a bit too fond of combat.

But the instructors at the war college thought differently. They said that even under in the harshest conditions during the staff trip, she looked out for troops and avoided losses. Their conclusion was that she couldn't have done what she did without meaning it. That carried a decisive weight in the General Staff, which was made up of war college grads.

"She has a lust for battle, but she still retains her right mind and avoids any type of loss." In sum, they had judged her character to be superior.

"Don't you think you're overly captive to your prejudices?"

"With all due respect, have you not seen the reports from her days at the academy?"

Unwilling to give in, he had found the most damning documents about her and submitted them for consideration. But Lergen himself was a staffer who had graduated from the war college. He knew without thinking whose judgment would count for more. It was the way of the military to trust those who were closest to you.

"Ultimately, I believe we can say she has matured through education. The war college reported no issues."

If she had been the cause of any trouble at the war college, her evaluations would have been poor. But instead she graduated with honors and was selected as a knight. She was flawless.

"Her behavior isn't the result of education—it's who she really is! We can't possibly entrust a battalion to her!"

He at least had to make his opposition known. He couldn't run away from his duty as a soldier, even if it damaged his career. If she was given a battalion, it was possible that its members would all die by her hands before even encountering the enemy. As a soldier, he couldn't allow it.

"If nothing else, she's too young, and her rank is too low!"

"Lieutenant von Degurechaff's promotion to captain has already been decided. She shouldn't be stuck commanding a company; she's worthy of a battalion."

"The Empire can't afford to let a capable soldier languish. You should know that."

The higher-ups had already made their decision. Once Lergen heard Rudersdorf arguing their point, he knew he was finished. This was to help solve the urgent problem of quick response. The brass was prepared to look the other way if the problems were minor.

"Then she should be returned to the instructor unit or sent to do research. She's a child. Do you not know how innocently cruel children can be?"

He tried taking a different tack. The General Staff traditionally welcomed debate, in the belief that a variety of viewpoints reduced errors.

"Colonel von Lergen, we'll hear you out. But this matter has already been decided." "It's the General Staff's decision. I believe you know what that means."

Conversely, once the debate was over, no further dissent was tolerated. They encouraged thorough discussion, but once policy was decided, they sought to carry it out with a united front and no hitches. Failure to fall into line meant being expelled from the General Staff. "…Do excuse me, sir."

So essentially, they've already decided? Lergen's shoulders slumped. There had never been a day that the General Staff aiguillette looked so repugnant to him, but he could control himself. In fact, in principle, it was unthinkable that he would harry Central like this. Still, his sense of unease persisted.

"All right. A new battalion will be formed under Captain von Degurechaff, as planned."

"Prepare a promotion to major and orders regarding the battalion command to be issued once assembly of the unit is complete."

"That's that. Let's move on to the next subject."

…Will this really be all right?

"Well, seeing is believing."

That's Tanya's honest reaction to the food sitting on the plate the orderly puts in front of her.

She knows it goes by the name schlachtplatte. She doesn't dislike the stuff, and it's a braised dish, which is hard to come by on the battlefield. Of course, the heat ruins all the vitamin C, which also tends to be in short supply in the trenches; only in the rear can such an extravagant dish be enjoyed.

This dining room is also used by those returning from the front, and she appreciates the idea of offering menu items you can only get back here. One could argue it was a way of showing that they were getting by with the same amount of resources as were allocated to the front and not just partying.

That much is all well and good.

The problem is the pork, which tastes not so much sour as it does like a block of salt. On top of that, it's undercooked. She can only marvel at how bad it is; if it didn't come with potatoes, she would have simply thrown it in the trash.

To add insult to injury, the bread they served was K-Brot.20 Apparently, they do it for promotion and popularization purposes, but frankly, the navy's rye bread has better flavor and nutritional value. She would have liked to demand that they just serve the wheat and potatoes separately, like normal.

If she went to the navy cafeteria, she could get better food, she's sure, despite the fact that both places are operating on the same budget.

The reason is simple. The army would never say a word about it, but it's an open secret that because they spent too much money furnishing their dining room, they now have to budget to make up for it. Plus, unlike the navy, the army seems content with subpar food, a situation which does not inspire the creativity of the chefs—not to mention the frequent turnover in cook staff means there's no chance for skill to develop.

Supposedly, they are able to get this K-Brot because it is the cheapest, least popular kind. The food at the army banquet room at the General Staff Office doesn't even measure up to the offerings in the navy's gun rooms, let alone the wardrooms of which it is so proud. She's simply astonished at the army's staunch refusal to accept the navy's point about their budget squandering. Are they trying to beat the Commonwealth in a contest for world's worst food? Even haggis would be better.

No one would ever eat this out of personal preference.

"What do you think, Captain? It's the General Staff Office special."

No, she wouldn't come here out of personal preference, but an invitation from Colonel von Kordel from General Staff Personnel and Brigadier General von Zettour from the Service Corps can't be refused.

"To be frank, sir, I can't help but be impressed—especially the way it reminds me the battlefield is everywhere."

"Ha-ha-ha-ha! A fine answer, don't you think, General von Zettour?"

She has to take care to remain polite in her response to Zettour's question while revealing her true feelings. She knows soldiers are expected to put up with poor food, but isn't this taking it a little far?

They seem to like her response quite a bit, though. Even Kordel is smiling in amusement. "Perhaps we should call this place the Perpetual Battlefield Cafe´," he muses. "Your attitude is commendable, Captain, but please don't hold back."

"Oh no, I've had my fill. Please don't mind me." Apparently, they aren't here for the flavor, either.

"Are you sure? You're a growing girl—you need to eat."

"I'm always doing my best to eat, sir, but I have a small stomach."

The comment comes from Zettour, whose position means he can use—and is stuck using—the General Staff Office banquet room. He probably ribs the new General Staff appointees in the same way. Tanya knows that some of the war college instructors like to joke a bit now and then.

But that's only until the meal is finished.

Kordel tells the orderly clearing their dishes to bring coffee and then leave them be for a while; that's when the real talk begins.

"All right, let's get down to business. Oh, and belated congratulations on your promotion, Captain von Degurechaff."

It was Kordel himself who authorized her to be promoted to captain immediately upon graduation from the war college. Now he seems to be making an obvious point of congratulating her.

"Thank you, Colonel."

Tanya was forced to sit in a higher chair because of her stature, but even when she straightens her back, she has to look up to see his face. Still, she expresses her gratitude in a clear voice that is the exact stereotype of what a commissioned officer should sound like.

She knows that in the large organization known as the military, examples are meant to be followed.

And in fact, the colonel from Personnel, whom she has never met before, is giving her a wide, familiar smile. He's only doing it because he's supposed to, but courtesy is never meaningless. At the very least, it's a tool you can use to probe your opponent's vulnerabilities during negotiations.

She speaks grandly, despite the total disinterest she feels. The promotion papers have already been issued.

She knows already, without the colonel's kind congratulations. Just like she knows that the really important matter is the one they are about to discuss.

"Now, we didn't call you here just to say well done on your promotion. There's also the question of your assignment."

Yes. Her path after graduation. The ultimate fate of war college graduates is decided not by the instructor superintendent but by the General Staff—that is, personnel decisions are made by a small, tight clique. Naturally, if you get on their bad side, you can expect to pay for it, but the reverse is also true.

"We'll take your wishes into consideration to the extent possible." "I appreciate that."

Kordel says they will consider her wishes, but the message is that they will pretend to listen to her. People from Personnel don't usually give completely one-sided orders. Still, no matter how friendly they act, you can't let down your guard. Tanya knows well that these people live in a world of kind artifices. Well, she will just have to respond superficially herself.

"But I'm a soldier. Wherever I am ordered to go, I'll humbly accept."

It's a hollow remark. Saying she will humbly accept any posting is better than rocking the boat. Of course, she also has to take care not to draw the short straw.

"That's good to hear. Here are the papers that have come for you."

The colonel seems satisfied with her response. He carefully pulls out a sheaf of personnel request forms and hands them to her. They are all from frontline units, all desperately in need of both mages and officers, but she does see some units reorganizing in the rear among them. She seems to be very much in demand. Of course, she has no doubt that if she plays her hand wrong, all her choices will vanish, and she'll be sent to the worst possible place.

"Oh, and there's one from the General Staff Office, too."

The final form he holds out to her simply says that General Staff asked for her to be posted there.

"In light of your achievements, Personnel won't force anything on you. Choose whichever you like."

"So I have my pick? It's a tough decision."

Really, it only looks like I have a choice. The General Staff Office makes the personnel decisions. I guess it was nice of them to let me know how many offers I got.

She isn't stupid enough not to come when the General Staff calls. There's no way to refuse.

"I can imagine…"

The colonel solemnly urges her to give it plenty of thought. It's all a charade, but he looks every inch an experienced military man offering advice to an eager young person trying to decide the next step in her career. He's a fine actor. Well, she already knew from the moment he started humoring her terrible performance that this was a third-rate script with an obvious outcome.

"…However, there's no such thing as an easy job, in any era." "Sir."

She remains bolt upright as she replies. He is busy, too. Apparently he doesn't have time to go along with this poorly written drama for too long.

"I don't know what the General Staff Office wants with you. I can only tell you I wish you the best of luck."

"I'm touched, Colonel."

The best of luck. A personal expression. The message contains his own goodwill toward her. Something makes him esteem her highly.

In other words, it's a lie that he doesn't know what they want; she should assume he does. She wants to ask if he has any information, and before she knows it, she finds herself cocking her head like the child she is.

In response, the colonel nods as if he understands, and gets to his feet. "Very sorry I can't stay for dessert, but I must be on my way."

"Thank you for your time, Colonel von Kordel, I'll see you later."

The colonel hurries out of the banquet as if the discussion is over. Following him with his eyes, Zettour calls over an adjutant he has kept waiting nearby. Taking the stack of papers he is handed, he comes to the most important matter he has called her here to discuss.

"Let's talk about you, Captain. And let's be practical. You're going to be assigned to the General Staff. I won't be your direct superior, but I want you to basically consider yourself to be working for me."

"Yes, sir. Looking forward to it."

It's a calm, matter-of-fact conversation. But even Zettour, who has served for much of his life, would never have dreamed he would see the day when a child of eleven became his subordinate.

Even he had expected her to have a harder time fitting in at the war college. But she had the talent to be chosen as a knight, and given her combat experience, age became less of an issue.

The head of this small captain contains notions that have taught them the foolishness of judging a situation on sight. Normally, that alone would be disturbing. It's so unusual to see such outstanding ability from someone so young.

He doesn't know whether they should praise her original ideas or call her insane.

But can they use her as a commissioned officer? That's the only question in which Zettour and the General Staff are interested. If they can use her, there is nothing further to discuss.

"Very good."

She doesn't even seem hesitant about taking charge of a battalion even though she has never led a company. That suggests that she suspected this appointment was on its way.

He's heard from the war college librarians in the military history archive that she was researching battalion-scale maneuvers. She never would have thought to be so ready if she weren't completely confident. In that sense, Captain von Degurechaff, sitting before him, had become a battalion commander even before the orders came down.

"Captain, the General Staff intends to give you a battalion as soon as possible."

To be perfectly honest, it is understandable if she's eager. A battalion of mages means a certain amount of authority and combat capability that's still small enough to be fairly mobile. Many of the instructors said that she seemed to see herself as most suited for the front lines, and he can see now that they are right. They said that although she valued the lives of her troops, her combat style was bold and aggressive.

So she is both an ambitious field officer and an excellent mage. Surely she's willing to take some troops and do her thing on the forward-most line.

"I'm honored, sir."

But Zettour hopes there will be a larger role to play for the handful of mage officers who graduated from the war college. In a sense, he even sees this as an excellent opportunity.

"Good. However, the battalion you'll be given will be a newly assembled unit of mages." "Newly assembled, sir?"

"It's just the way the organization works. Get ready—it's not going to be easy."

She will have to organize them, train them, and establish her authority over them. Without the assistance of some older hands, each of those tasks will be difficult. People create organizations, but organizations don't create people.

Thus, those who are capable of organizing things are considered pillars of the Imperial Army. That's why they are making her take on a battalion now that they've succeeded in putting it together.

"That being the case, tomorrow or the next day you'll also receive orders as a formation officer."

They say you should set a thief to catch a thief, and he figures he will take advantage of every system he can. That's understandable—it will take some doing to give a captain who has never led a company a battalion of mages.

The "formation officer" position, for example, is a relic from the Middle Ages, when mercenaries were integrated into the regular army. All you had to do to merit the title was be an officer, no company-commander experience necessary. It's a way of giving someone oversight of several mercenary units. It is also a system left over from three hundred years ago, but since it hasn't been abolished, it's still valid.

As long as it is good on paper, no one will complain. Of course, it's possible that's because no one knows what a formation officer is.

"'Formation officer'? Isn't that a rather antiquated title?"

But Tanya is a sharp one. She recognizes that it's outdated. No doubt she will soon realize that this is a way of using existing systems to cover for what he wants to push through.

I can count on this one. She's so outstanding that if she were a man, I would be happy to marry my granddaughter to her. She is so reliable, in fact, that it's all too easy to lose sight of the fact that the soldier before him is just a little girl.

"It's difficult to give a battalion to a captain. When you succeed in assembling the unit, I'll try to swing a promotion to major for you."

Perhaps he shouldn't really say that. But she will probably work harder if he can convince her that he is on her side. Creating a battalion from scratch is a lot of work. It would be advantageous if she knew she didn't have to be on guard against the Service Corps.

"…So for all intents and purposes, I'm a battalion commander?"

"You just worry about doing the job. I'll handle your assignment and promotion."

Apparently, she hasn't forgotten that she once said she wanted a battalion. She, a first lieutenant, to a brigadier general. There is no question that she is uncommonly determined and confident. And her abilities are the real thing.

She is that rare person who can be both a mage and a commanding officer. He will put her to good use, even if that means enduring the slings and arrows of the other departments.

"May I say something that is liable to provoke antipathy?"

The expression on her face is innocent, but she is being cautious enough to ask. Something liable to provoke antipathy? She's already done that. Though the rumor that she's getting a battalion after appealing directly to the brass hasn't gotten around yet, she sticks out due to her rapid rise through the ranks. But if she is acknowledging the unrest, it means she understands the reality and is asking for help.

"It's a bit late to be worried, isn't it? What is it? Tell me." "I'll have full authority over the formation of the unit?"

"As I said, we'll do all we can to ensure you get the people and the equipment you want."

The reply to her question is clear. She can do as she likes. If necessary, the Service Corps is prepared to support her. They even got Personnel on board to some extent, as evidenced by Kordel's presence at the meeting.

That was the agreement from the start. Measures are in place to accommodate her preferences for personnel and gear as much as possible.

"You can organize the unit however you like. Just keep it under forty-eight members."

He is being considerate; in a sense, it's a way of apologizing for making her build a battalion from the ground up. The sweetest part of the deal is the size of the unit. He has procured the budget for an augmented battalion. He got an exception made, given that this was an experimental unit.

"Forty-eight people? An augmented battalion. Thank you, sir."

"It only makes sense that our quick reaction battalion should be augmented. I was able to wrangle the budget for it on the grounds that it would be a brand-new unit."

All he had to do was whisper, Can you even use an underfunded quick reaction force? and Operations agreed to support the project. Although he suspects he also had no small help from Rudersdorf, who respected his aims.

But above all, it was practical considerations that swayed Rudersdorf's decision. A single unit near at hand that can be easily used is far more valuable than multiple forces stationed far away. Anyone would agree.

"The only restriction is that you can't draw people from the Western or Northern Army Groups. That part is nonnegotiable."

The only limiting factor is where the personnel can come from. It won't do to have her plucking elite soldiers off the front lines. That's partly out of consideration for the regional commands and Operations, but it also means that the core members of the new unit will be people without battle experience.

It'll be a good opportunity for the various regional armies to share their experience. All the better if a little goodwill between the armies allows their pipelines to be reorganized. It would benefit the Empire in all sorts of ways.

"We decided to make it a battalion of aerial mages to match your own specialty."

That goes without saying. The orders to create a unit of aerial mages have been practically issued already; it's just a matter of time. Captain von Degurechaff seems to know that as well and says nothing. Well, dispensing with idle chatter is certainly efficient.

"Who will I report to?"

She asks exactly what she wants to know. It would be so much easier if I could just say, "Readiness Command," but he can only offer a pained smile.

It certainly is necessary for a commander to think about who they're serving under. Her analytical approach shows how qualified she is. She is asking in earnest, not sarcastically.

"Since yours will be a quick reaction force, you'll be under the direct command of the General Staff. Your formation code will be in the V600s. Any special requests?"

"Not particularly. Please pick whatever is appropriate."

Zero hesitation. Not much interest in codes or ornamentation, then? Although she does seem to understand the necessity of having them, in terms of identifying the unit.

"Then you'll be 601. Basically speaking, you have no superior officer. Be glad. You're reporting directly to General Staff."

"Everything's coming up roses."

"Yes, indeed. Anyone would be jealous."

Being a battalion commander is popularly considered the best job—still able to go into battle as a commander and possessing a great degree of autonomy. Basically, it allows the leader to fight their own war. It's an enjoyable job for those skilled enough to do it.

Reporting directly to the General Staff makes things even better, since much of the annoying bureaucratic tape gets removed.

"How much time do I have to organize the unit?"

"The sooner you can do it, the better, but there's no set deadline." "I see. Then I'll consider my selections carefully."

As for where they'll be stationed, the north and west don't really have the wherewithal to accommodate them because of their proximity to the main fight, while the south and east tend to be sticky politically. Most likely they'll be fairly removed from those areas, somewhere in between them. Even if his aides would be handling the details instead of him, he can guess that much.

"I imagine you'll be based somewhere in the southeast." "Understood, sir."

As far as possible from where the fighting is heaviest. In other words, they're giving her a wink that means she has as much time as she needs to train her subordinates. The smirk on Tanya's face reminds Zettour of some unpleasant rumors he's heard about her. Supposedly, her criteria for selecting subordinates are overly strict.

"A word of warning, Captain. You have a reputation for being a bit too choosy with your candidates."

Appearing to lack the strength and talent to cultivate subordinates is a big minus. It's a given in the military that you don't get to choose your colleagues. You simply have to make the best of the situation you are given.

If you can't, then no matter how distinguished you are as an individual, you will fail as an officer and as a soldier. At best, you will be considered a lone wolf and find yourself without a friend to turn to within the organization. The packs will defeat you with their numerical advantage.

"I don't doubt your abilities, but it's not an especially good reputation to have. I suggest you be careful."

"Thank you for your concern."

She has the composure to take criticism in stride. That's encouraging. He suspects she already has an idea of who she wants in the unit.

"Well, you earned this through your own efforts. You should be proud." "Pride goeth before destruction, sir. I try to stay humble."

"Great. I think that attitude will serve you well."

Most importantly, this girl doesn't let promotions and special privileges go to her head. She is relaxed and open; no matter how much favor she receives, she won't lose herself in it but only work that much harder. She is truly a rare officer. Maybe you could even call her noble. Nobility has, in truth, always been a way of acting, not just a bloodline. The von isn't everything. If the way a person comports themselves is aristocratic, then blood doesn't matter.

"I expect the papers to come through tomorrow. Stay in your quarters tonight." "You've thought of everything."

I detect a hint of annoyance. Well, it's understandable; her rank seems to change every day.

"Just a gesture of apology on my part. Pay it no mind." "No, thank you very much."

"I have high hopes for you, Captain. I wish you great success."

She will be granted an experimental unit. It's a serious responsibility, and he really is expecting a great deal of her. Indeed, he hopes his experiment will bear fruit.

V600.

There is no record of that formation code anywhere. With the exception of a classified handful, the materials made public after the war contain every code. Yet there is no V600 series.

The numbering system of the Imperial Army starts with the Central Forces with codes in the V000s. If all the regional armies were added together, that still only accounts for codes up to the V400s. The only exception we could think of might be a unit under Central Technology. But the materials that were made public only go from the V000s to the V500s.

Some experts point out the possibility that V600 was the code given to a special experimental unit in order to maintain an especially high level of secrecy. The fierce technological race that took place during the Great War resulted in a much more advanced world than before the conflict. Winning that race required utmost secrecy. Perhaps they set up a unit outside the normal numbering system so no one would know about it.

That suggestion was worth thinking about. Ender's team got right to work making a list of people who seemed likely to be involved in such a project. At the same time, my own team started working through the documents from the Imperial Army's Technology Division. We hit upon an engineer attached to Central.

We were able to obtain a chance to speak with him in person. His name was Adelheid von Schugel, and he was chief engineer. He headed the project that produced the Elinium Arms Type 97 Assault Computation Orb in the middle of the war, which was hailed as a masterpiece.

We heard the devout Mr. Schugel attended mass every Sunday morning without fail. Thanks to the offices of the priest of the church he attends, we were able to get an interview. Luckily, he allowed us to visit, although we would be closely monitored.

Mr. Schugel was a man of intellect, as we heard. "It is my joy to welcome visitors from afar on a day I've prayed to God. It must be what the Lord wishes," he murmured, showing great hospitality to us considering we were intruding on the Sabbath.

Honestly, it caught me off guard. I was expecting an imperial engineer to be more difficult. I confessed my narrow-mindedness in doubting such a gentle person as Mr. Schugel, and asked for his forgiveness.

"You've seen the error of your ways. All things happen according to his will."

He accepted my apology with a smile, and immediately after that we asked him about the V600 unit. But the moment we mentioned it, the military police officer who must have been there to referee the interview prevented Mr. Schugel from answering. There was something there. We were sure of it.

But Mr. Schugel, with a wry smile at the MP, said something completely unexpected.

"The unit code V600 doesn't exist. But go through the records, gentlemen. Journalists need to know their history."

He was smiling wryly when he gave us that baffling reply; we decided V600 must refer not to a unit but something else, and we continued our investigation on that basis. The key was his hint about studying history.

A unit code that didn't seem to exist? No. It really didn't exist. We agonized over it for close to a month before a specialist in military organization put an end to our suffering.

A colleague from the foreign desk introduced us to him, and he recognized our mistake immediately.

"A V number?" he said. "That's a formation code."

In the Imperial Army system, unit formation was handled by the Service Corps, and Operations actually made use of the troops. The important point here is that the people doing the organizing and the people doing the deploying were in different departments. Normally, the latter would simply take over the numbers under which the former had assembled a unit.

For example, say the Service Corps created unit V101 with the intention of replenishing the central forces. Operations would put it to work as the 101st Task Force. But if it wasn't clear where a unit was assigned, they would pick a code that wasn't normally used in order to avoid misunderstandings. So obviously, the formation code V600 could exist even if no unit in the six hundreds did.

That's what confused us. We'd been chasing a six-hundred-unit ghost of our own creation. I hope you'll laugh at us. We thought we had figured out the truth, but look where it got us.

We made an impromptu decision to head for the beer hall to collect information, and I record only that we spent the entire day there. (Sadly, we weren't able to expense the trip.)

Now I understood. The wise Mr. Schugel thought we were onto something. His one mistake was thinking I'd done enough studying to understand his cryptic advice.

But now we were getting somewhere, we were sure. For some reason, we all had terrible headaches, but we started poring over the unit formation paperwork left behind by the Service Corps section of the Imperial Army General Staff Office. And we had no trouble finding what we were looking for.

Among all those neatly organized files, there was only one with the number six hundred, as if it were begging to be found. But it was practically empty. There was just one simple memo:

Attn: Service Corps, Imperial Army General Staff Office

We guide him always, abandon him never, go where there is no path, never yielding, forever on the battlefield. Everything we do, we do for victory. We seek mages for the worst battlefields, the smallest rewards, days darkened by a forest of swords and hails of bullets, and constant danger with no guarantee of survival. To those who return go the glory and the honor.

General Staff Office 601st Formation Committee

But what was the unit code that went with formation code 601? Unfortunately, the file contained only that single piece of paper. The highly charged prose was unusual, though; normally the Imperial Army loathed anything that smacked of literary rhetoric.

Anyone who saw it would remember it. Having made up our minds about that, we began questioning mages who were in the army at the time. With the very first one we spoke to, we hit the jackpot. But what he told us was deeply disappointing.

"Oh yeah, that's famous. About the propaganda unit, right? The people who actually applied came back pretty ticked off."

"A propaganda unit?"

"Right. The public relations department wanted a unit that would 'convey the justice and nobility of the Empire' or whatever."

"Hmm, we haven't seen any materials that mention propaganda."

"Well of course you haven't. If people knew they were using a big unit of aerial mages just for propaganda, there would've been trouble."

"I'm sorry, what are you trying to say?"

"I heard there was a storm of complaints from the Service Corps and the front lines, and they scrapped the whole thing. It's a pretty well-known story, as I recall."

Incredulous, we spoke to several other former imperial mages. We half hoped they'd deny it and half hoped, in resignation, that they'd say, Oh yes, I heard about that.

But—and I don't know whether this is a cruel trick of fate or a happy accident—the truth turned out to be somewhat different. Several mages gave us strong alternate accounts.

"Yes, I heard of that. They failed to come to an agreement on the idea of a Readiness Command, and that was the result."

"Wasn't it a propaganda unit?"

"Nah, that was just a lie. I heard V600 was the code they gave to the quick reaction force."

"Quick reaction force?"

"Yes, they wanted a unit that could get around faster than the Great Army, but I guess it didn't work out."

That was from a former soldier who served in the central army.

"I think V600 was just a convenient way of referring to the combined Western and Eastern Army Groups."

"Did you hear anything about it being a quick reaction force or propaganda?" "Those were just bluffs. Happens a lot in wartime, you know."

"So what kind of unit was V600?"

"The short version is that it was a reorganization of the western and eastern armies after they took a beating in the early phases of the war."

"A reorganization?"

"Right. It was easier than dissolving them." "So what about the other rumors?"

"What I heard was that they were bluffs from Intelligence. To make the enemy worry that they were creating a brand-new elite unit."

This from a former member of the Northern Army Group.

In addition to those things, we heard every kind of speculation, from the utterly plausible to the nearly absurd. We joked with each other that we could compile an encyclopedia of battlefield rumors—but it left us unsure what to do next. The more we investigated, the more new factors bubbled up. I know they say there's no single truth, but this was ridiculous. We were completely lost.

What is correct? I decided to start with that question. We had heard a lot of different things, but something was bothering me. I tried doing a statistical analysis of the accounts we amassed. Sometimes they agreed, and sometimes they contradicted one another. That meant there had to be some seed of truth in the rumors, but they took on a life of their own; now it was possible we might never learn what really happened.

It felt like a microcosm of the war itself. Much has been said about the conflict, and everyone understands that it was an awful tragedy, but the truth of it, what really happened, remains unclear.

V600 and the Eleventh Goddess spurred our confusion. But could they also have been the very heart of the war? (Andrew, WTN special correspondent)