THE SAME DAY, IMPERIAL CAPITAL
The atmosphere in the capital was of lingering holiday…of a new year now beginning.
The time when the biggest schism in enthusiasm could be felt.
This could be felt particularly strongly in the General Staff Office. After all, as the daily work began to grow overwhelming, it was around that time those working in the office found that, at some point, their good holiday spirits had abandoned them.
Among these military men, the duties of the senior adjutant attached to General Zettour, who was popularly known as the Deputy Director of the Service Corps, were of nearly unprecedented scope. It had been some time since it would have been rare to see this colonel-level officer running to and fro with his plate always full.
But there were upsides as well.
For instance, if you were to see even Colonel Uger rush from the communications room and into General Zettour’s office with bad news in his hand—if you were the adjutant, you might simply think, This again?
As if in some kind of nightmare, Colonel Uger attempted to get his face, which was nearly convulsing, under control—praying that what he couldn’t get under control, he could conceal—before rushing into the general’s office, cursing that it was he who had to be the bearer of such bad news.
“General, it’s an emergency!”
“Colonel Uger? What is it?” General Zettour asked, calm and in control.
In response, Colonel Uger thrust out the message, which he had nearly crumpled up in his shaking hand.
“An alert from the eastern army. Here.”
“Thank you.”
As General Zettour took the message, his well-arranged brow arched slightly.
Now then, let’s see.
This was how General Staff officers endeavored to behave back in the good old days. With thank-yous and smiles, a quick turn of the back to conceal their emotions. With an air of reliability.
Even at a time such as this, an officer could still spare a mind to the art of maintaining a modicum of face.
So then…
…why? Good Lord, why?
What was this that Colonel Uger was now witnessing? He failed to pretend not to see.
A crack in the spine. The powerless back of an old man, bent down by the harsh despair of reality, without words, cradling only nightmares.
Later, Uger would understand.
He was seeing an old man nearly crushed by a Rising Dawn. As history’s witness, Uger saw it all.
In that moment, General Zettour was wrestling with demons. His own mistakes. His misreading of the situation.
In that single instant, his wise mind comprehended every last one of his failures.
He had already seen their fall, but he thought that he had postponed it. Had mistakenly believed that they were okay for now. That the Federation hadn’t recovered its forces yet… It was why he had drummed up what pawns he could from the east in order to send them into Ildoa.
They should have had time. Half a year. Four months at the least. There was still time. A little grace before they died. The thread was fine, yes, but it was still a thread that could be crossed. Even a spider’s thread could be clutched.
“How? I don’t understand…”
1 MIA: Missing In Action, i.e. when one goes missing during combat. In general, when one goes missing, they can often be assumed dead. In stories, this often sets the flag for a later return, but in reality, this is rarely the case. Reality is harsh.
2 AirLand Battle: A doctrine cooked up by a portion of the US military back when the Soviet Army was still alive and kicking. While a nonstop charge from the enemy could have proved dangerous, the thinking was that through clever coordination between land and air forces and maneuver tactics, by dividing the enemy while also thoroughly hitting the enemy’s reserve forces, inferior numbers would not matter.
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