OCTOBER 4, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, THE COMMONWEALTH
The Commonwealth had demonstrated that they could pull off an attack deep within Imperial territory and did so in a politically significant way thanks to using their ally's—the Federation's—airports to execute the attack. But even more importantly, the rank and file were emboldened by the sweet taste of victory.
"""We did it!"""
This was the cheer that spread through the departnt the mont they received the report: Target Eliminated. Even the strategists had cramd themselves into the Analytics Departnt as they awaited first word of the results. The entire room exploded with triumphant cries the mont they learned the attack was a success.
Gentlen they may be, these n were still only human, and their jubilant reactions were simply expressions of their humanity.
Wine, whiskey, and cigars. Such were the staples for a celebration such as this. If a hunter nails his quarry, they should be congratulated.
They had outmaneuvered the Devil of the Rhine and shot down the plane carrying General Rudersdorf, a source of so much grief for the Commonwealth.
"""Long live the king! Cheers!!"""
They'd won in the war of information. It ant that they were above their enemy when it ca to intel, and the surprise victory may have indicated they were the best agency in the world. They'd even managed to kill their target right under the Devil of the Rhine's nose, a Nad they'd been reluctant to challenge until now. This alone was a victory in and of itself, one that more than deserved celebration in the Commonwealth Intelligence Agency.
-x-X-x-
THE SA DAY, THE IMPERIAL CAPITAL
anwhile, the deputy director of the General Staff had finally reached the imperial capital with a scowl. Via a plane, of all thods.
The General Staff officers who knew he was coming sent a party to pick him up. They all felt relieved when they saw the cargo plane in the distance, along with an escort of six fighters, steadily approaching the capital.
It arrived almost exactly according to schedule. The cargo plane tipped its nose down, beginning its descent as they watched from the ground. Either the pilot made it a habit to be cautious about his flying, or they were carrying a very important person.
They knew this must be the right plane. Which was why the officers hurried to the base's runway the mont it landed. They weren't quite expecting the people who got off the plane first: a group of dics. One of the dics glared at them to let them know they were in the way as a large group of sick and injured soldiers was ferried off the plane on stretchers. Even more peculiar was that the person they were looking for wasn't anywhere to be found. They double-checked. This appeared to be the right plane.
With no idea what was going on…the group of officers then witnessed an even stranger sight. The aircraft escorting the cargo plane were single-seated fighters. Unaware of when they even landed, they'd see a thin-faced man jump out of one of the cockpits the mont it finished parking on the runway. He made his way over to the group of officers—who'd been making themselves a nuisance for the wounded soldiers—and pulled them away from the plane's cargo bay.
Standing in front of the officers, who appeared unable to completely process what they were seeing, was a man wearing a thin grin like a young boy who'd just pulled off a practical joke.
"Well, I wasn't about to ride on a cargo plane."
General Zettour, the new deputy director, sported a devilish grin as he strutted to the car they'd brought to pick him up. Counter to the victors, who enjoyed all they could drink, all that was left for the losers was to stomach their bitter defeat. Though his dramatic return to the capital was impossibly swift, there was a limit to how smooth things could go. The expression of General Zettour, who had been reinstated to the General Staff Office, was all but cheerful. Quite frankly, the fire in his eyes was the only life detectable in the utterly exhausted man. It was as if the general, who still had the wind of
the front lines at his back, now shouldered an even greater burden. "It's been a while now, hasn't it? My regards, gentlen."
He kept his return speech short, not issuing a single order.
General Zettour was known for his scholarly presence, and yet he'd shooed his officers back to work without so much as a proper greeting. It was very unlike him. Those who knew what'd happened whispered that it must have been because of his great loss, but those like Colonel Lergen, who was a bit more familiar with internal affairs, had their own suspicions. Whichever the case may have been, there wasn't a single officer who doubted this decision.
This was the man who'd handed one defeat after another to the Federation in the east. He was a genius who created little to no problems for those in the rear. General Zettour's presence was a critical factor in recovering stability in the General Staff Office.
"Anyone but General Zettour becoming General Rudersdorf's successor is unthinkable."
This was the collective opinion of the General Staff, no matter what any outside bureaucrat or politician had to say. The General Staff was, for better or worse, the General Staff, and as such, they moved with incredible speed after the incident. Due to the ergency at hand, General Zettour was terminated from his position in the east as an inspector and given the unprecedented title of Deputy Director for the Operations and Service Corps.
The army would stand firmly behind this decision even if it t resistance from the governnt. In the na of keeping themselves a separate entity from Supre High Command, they firmly pushed their personnel choice through.
The Emperor would reluctantly allow their decision to pass, but his reluctance was insignificant to the General Staff. He asked the General Staff to submit three candidates, and they selected General Zettour, Deputy Director Zettour, and Inspector Zettour.
The Emperor was undoubtedly shocked by their cheeky response, but General Zettour would et with him to discuss the promotion behind closed doors. What was said? Not even the mbers of the Imperial Court—the curious bunch of little sparrows they were—would find out. All that they knew was his promotion was confird.
In the face of the results, any ill rumors suggesting he finessed his way
into the position with one of his cons ant nothing. The General Staff got the leader it desired. His reception by the court would go down in history as a joke, given how his international reputation as a con artist was well known at ho.
His powerful new position put him in control of both operations and strategy for the Imperial Army. However, it was hard for General Zettour to appreciate working at the imperial capital. He felt it amounted to polishing the General Staff Office's chairs with his ass.
"Well, my title certainly is longer. This tests my ability to lead our organization, let alone a military clique."
He sighed, and the colonel sitting next to him chid in. "This does effectively create a single leader of the army."
General Zettour shook his head at Colonel Lergen's words. The colonel had also made his formal return to the General Staff. With a lonely expression, the general tapped his finger on the desk that had a new owner. He was replacing his friend Rudersdorf, who had been killed in action only a few days prior. The room was his now. They were friends for most of their lives, and he never thought he would be one to take advantage of his death.
That being said, Colonel Lergen had no way of knowing what the general was feeling on the inside. Should he ask? Or should he remain silent? With slight hesitation, Colonel Lergen took a few calm breaths to maintain his poker face. Regardless of the colonel's temperant, he was a fully trained staff officer…and this was the lens through which he viewed the world. His professional knowledge made certain details stick out to him. If it were simply curiosity, it would be better for him to keep his questions to himself. However, as it was a matter of duty, he decided he couldn't remain silent.
"It appears Colonel Adelheid and the military police are snooping around the office."
He didn't need to say what they were looking for. Or perhaps he was afraid to say it. If sobody overheard him, he wouldn't be able to explain himself. Though there was hesitation in his voice, he expressed what he needed to, as General Zettour knew precisely what the colonel was getting at. Thus, a smile quickly ford on his lips.
The smile, however, was not matched by the stern gaze in his eyes. Perhaps it was thanks to having dabbled in poker that Colonel Lergen managed to endure the never-before-seen intensity that crossed his superior's
face without faltering. Either way, his ability to maintain his composure was rewarded with a simple answer.
"He's a friend of mine. You don't have anything to worry about."
It apparently wasn't a problem. But in what context? What hand had Zettour played in all of this? Was he innocent? Or had he already washed the blood off? In an attempt to discern this, Colonel Lergen asked his next question.
"Will you be attending the funeral?"
"I have work to do. Either way…I can save my apologies for when we et in the next life."
He wasn't going to attend. And what was this about apologies? Thinking carefully about what this could an, Colonel Lergen almost blurted sothing out…
"Sir? I'm not sure I…"
"…Let's just say that for the first ti in my life, I owe the Commonwealth my thanks. There's nothing more for to say on the matter."
At the very least, he hadn't been directly involved. But he still felt guilty. Maybe he'd hoped this would happen…despite his long friendship with the man. Or was it the opposite?
That would explain… Colonel Lergen began playing with a new idea before stopping himself. He shook his head and purged the thought. Any more consideration into the matter was crude guesswork. Instead, Colonel Lergen looked General Zettour in his eyes and asked the final question he was obligated to ask.
"Is it safe to assu you'll do what you must for our country?"
"Colonel Lergen…I am a slave to my duty, just as you are. And I believe it is high ti we face our terrible reality."
User Comments
0 comments from readers