"Lieutenant colonel, captains, welcome to the Empire temporal consulate in the Otherside...
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Crossing Borders, a Youjo Senki/Strike Witches crossover
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Chapter 01
BF110C4
Not too sore, are you?
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"Lieutenant colonel, captains, welcome to the Empire temporal consulate in the Otherside Gallia."
After a few years mostly living in the officers' barracks of Berlin the most lieutenant colonel Erich von Lehrgen could say about the two story building was that while practical the accommodations were spartan in size and decorations, especially considering the historical and diplomatic importance of the endeavor, although the multiple antennas and telephone wires indicated that the place prepared by their hosts would be more than appropriate for the ends of the cobbled together imperial diplomatic mission.
"Thank you, captain Ugar. These are by far the biggest and more comfortable quarters I have enjoyed in this last year. Heh, I can barely hear the machine guns in the distance." As a combat veteran and former commander of the 205th Assault Mage Company captain Ihlen Schwarzkopf had only until a week ago been guarding the muddy and cold trenches of the Eastern Front against the gallian forces so it was understandable he considered the new quarters more than adequate.
"Oh, don't worry about that, those are the members of the 501° JFW training their gunnery. In case of Neuroi attacks we have a shelter in the basement as well as the protection of multiple fighter squadrons and the Strike Witches themselves of course." The gallian military liaison assigned to them hastily explained the noise in heavily accented English, the lingua franca of the allied forces in Europe, much to the combat veteran amusement if the smile was an indication.
"Thank you, mister Pierre. I'll take it from here. Captain Maximilian Johann von Ugar said in much better English, as befitting a War College graduate, as he opened the door to a small meeting room. "Despite missing a spot of paint here and there the building is completely functional and staffed by our own people, we got full utilities as well as wireless communication through the portal. Our hosts have also put at our complete disposition a separate warehouse were the scientific and technical components of the mission are setting up their instrumentation."
"Ok, what about a military airfield and gunnery range? I need to train a score of mages from zero and to start planning the abbreviated training course I need to know what I have to work with." Schwarzkopf asked.
"We already have an auxiliary airfield assigned to us barely a kilometer from here, just behind the current headquarters of the 501° Wing, they are giving us full use of their practice course and willing to lend us some of their mages, I mean witches, to take part of the training both as trainees and as an OpFor. The only thing you're going to have restricted access is their habitation areas and maintenance hangars, and those can be visited as long as an escort is available."
"Are they keeping us from classified areas or interacting with their personnel?" Lehrgen asked as he took a cigarette from his engraved metal case and the rest of the soldier did the same, with Ugar taking his from a colorful paper package.
"I met yesterday with lieutenant colonel Wilcke and mayor Sakamoto; they are actually pretty enthusiastic about the new gear and giving us tours of their entire facilities without reservations. However, the colonel got a strict policy of segregation between her all-female wing and the men of her support unit, one far more stringent than even local military regulations, she won't even allow menials on base without someone from her unit shadowing them. Not that I can blame her, if I ever saw my 12 years old daughter half-naked and being ogled by a man thrice her age, I would kill someone, and it wouldn't be my daughter."
"Half-naked?"
"Disturbing side effect of their magic system, they need to be all the time in scandalous short pants, shorter than proper underwear at that, cabaret dancers dress more properly."
"I'm more worried about the fact that they have girls as young as twelve in a supposedly elite frontline unit. Do I dare to imagine she is as capable as mayor Degurechaff?"
"I have yet to see witches in action, at least after the initial acrobatic presentation they gave us when we arrived to set up this outpost, but the little I have seen of them while on visit on their base makes me believe that they don't share the same discipline standards of the Imperial Army in general and definitely not those of mayor Degurechaff in particular."
"Oh, you know Tanya? I haven't seen my former subordinate since she parted from the front towards the War College."
"Yes, we were peers in there, fighting for the top grades and a spot in the 12 Honorable Knights of our generation." Ugar said with a nostalgic smile. "In fact, she gave me some good advice back then that I'm still grateful about."
"Heh, nice to know. But back to business, how bad is the discipline issue? I was tapped for this mission since I supposedly helped polish Degurechaff in the Eastern front but truth to be told she always caused less trouble than soldiers twice her age."
"Hard to tell, in particular with the 501°, to begin with the unit is an international command, with members of eight nations in a company sized unit, that's eight different countries with different training standards and basic educational systems. Also, its worth mentioning that it is in fact an elite unit, every witch is the equivalent of a Named mage, with everyone with more than six months in the unit being an Ace of Aces against the Neuroi. That amount of talent and experience usually gives a pass to the occasional lapse in military decorum even before taking into account that no one is older than twenty."
"So, we can't expect that their level of competence is indicative of their countries' standards for regular units." Lehrgen said as he took notes. "What about their gear, these Striker Units?"
"As varied as their personnel, they literally have a different model for each of their mages, many of those from different countries. A mess that makes me feel sorry for the poor soul in charge of the wing's logistics and maintenance, but one that's allowing us to get a very good look of their top-of-the-line gear. Their Liberian mage, Yeager actually bragged to me that with her Striker Unit, the P-51H, she was able to reach a max speed of 760km/h and a 10 kilometers ceiling before stalling."
"Uff, that's almost a third higher than our best units, most mages can't hold the flying and oxygen generating spells needed with the low ambient magic of those heights. As far as I know only Degurechaff with her monstrous orb can even try to fight at that altitude, and I don't think even she can reach those speeds. I hope we're getting some of those for ourselves."
"As part of their preliminary agreements the Empire is getting six of their Liberian AT-6 training units in exchange for the six Junkers A-35 Computational Orbs plus the normal training and recruitment devices. However, we have been warned that the units are only compatible with female mages from an age group between 10 and 18 years old and the magic requirements themselves are prodigious when we compared with a magic testing unit the output of one of their average witches easily surpassed the A-Class standard. Under the current conscription laws mandatory recruitment of mages starts officially at 16, and the percentage of female women in the A-class mage tier is exceedingly small, in particular since their experts tell us that witch training get disproportionate diminishing results the older it starts. And that's not taking into account other parameters we're unaware of."
"Of around a hundred and fifty mages I personally know I think only two would pass minimum requirements, and one of those is actually too young for conscription. I think we're not getting our money worth in this deal."
"Which is why in addition to the Striker Units general Bradley is transferring a wing of second line fighter bombers, forty Liberian P-40 Warhawks capable of reaching 570 km/h." Lehrgen said with a rare predatory smile, despite being a second line fighter by this world's standards, it would easily outrun anything the Empire enemies had available.
"Generous on their part, too generous. What's their angle?" If Lehrgen didn't knew captain Schwarzkopf had such a high opinion of Degurechaff he would have been perfectly satisfied with the man's perfectly reasonable amount of paranoia regarding diplomacy.
"We're not completely sure, it's obvious they're incredibly interested in our orb technology, also is probably a show of force, after all it matters not that we have four times as many mages as any of their nations if their non-magical forces consider those beasts that can easily hunt our bests mages unfit for frontline service."
"Test will initiate in 30 seconds. Stand by for recording."
"This is Observer Three, standing by." Ursula Hartmann answered the controller as she prepared her camera and casted her Bloodhound spell. She was one of three witches observing the test of the Otherside's magical unit and the only one not belonging to an active combat formation.
"Five, four, three… Mark." As soon as the countdown was over the man standing at the start of the aerial training course started levitating and after a heartbeat shot towards the posts representing the first of the obstacles of the range.
"Speed is 210km/h, maneuverability is within standard parameters for unassisted Levitation/Flow combination spells." She said to one of the radio operators below, as she leisurely followed the mage on her heavy BF-110C Striker Unit, easily matching the man's pace despite being known mostly for its low speed, low magic consumption and stable flight that made it suitable mostly for carrying the wing's heavy weapons by average witches who couldn't afford the magic needed for the additional weight in a high-performance platform like the BF-109 variants.
About a minute after he started the test her spell started feeding her nose with data. The Bloodhound spell and other similar ones were part of the family of sensorial spells that manifested through the sense of smell, most commonly (but not exclusively) found in witches who had a canine spirit, most witches considered them as unsuitable for the sky for how easy essences diluted with a strong wind, how slow the flow of information came compared to radio waves, optical or even sound-based detection spells and finally due to the dangerously distracting amount of information that came with every breath.
Ursula on the other hand found it vital in her duties as both an engineer and a test pilot for the Karsland military, the tracking issues not being a problem while closely shadowing a test unit and the wealth of information allowing to detect issues with the mana output or the fuel mix long before it became apparent on the limited instrumentation a striker unit could carry. Even then she was having a hard time tracking her quarry through the spell, he lacked the usual essence of fuel all strike witches left behind in their wake, and the emission of magic was likewise a fraction of what a witch would normally use, even while hovering.
All in all, it reminded her of some of the traditional broom racers of the Black Forest who performed during harvest festivals, controlled use of Levitation magic without a medium for a simultaneous Flow spell. Elegant in its simplicity, his magic was unusually steady with minimal fluctuations even when doing hard maneuvers, something particularly hard without the assistance of a striker unit to the point broom flying was considered advanced magical pressure training.
"Unit is gaining altitude. 700 meters, 950, 1,500, topping at 1,830 meters." Once again, she was looking above the male thanks to the superior climbing rate and ceiling of her own Striker Unit, and if she wasn't so aware of the sex and age of the tester she wouldn't have been nearly as impressed with the performance, the altitude was simply too low to engage most aerially optimized neuroi who would be able to rain beams from above at will.
Soon after the flying tests were over and the otherside captain headed towards the area reserved for the aerial shooting range. While he communicated to the control tower to ask for permission to use the field, a security measure to prevent maintenance crews or visitors from being caught inside by accident during live fire training, she took a moment to take stock of his appearance and try to find out the nature of his spirit. Initially her eyes focused on the back of his head, nothing the lack of animal ears on top of it -something rare but not unheard of, with her dear sister Erica and herself being the best documented cases manifesting only a discrete hair coloration when actively using magic- only showing a slight golden glow in his eyes. Then her eyes descended to his chest and the heavy wool jacket he was wearing, an oddity since most witches depended on their innate magic to protect themselves from the elements barring extreme climate.
But then she saw his pants and couldn't suppress a pained whimper. The one constant all witches shared was the absolute need to freely manifest the tail of their spirit, even when not using enough magic for it to physically show there was a primal need to keep access free which was why the most a witch would ever wear was a light dress or a thin pantyhose and most of the time they would rather have the minimum amount of fabric, or ideally none at all (a fact that her own boyfriend always appreciated in the mornings). By contrast captain Schwarzkopf was casting a constant Levitation spell while wearing thick trousers and his spirit didn't show any sign of discomfort through irregularities in his magical output.
Thinking about it, he didn't have the phantom smell of any animal either… That drove the point of him using a completely different system, instead of a variation of their own druidic or shinto spiritual traditions, more than anyone of the assertions of the government ever could.
Almost as an afterthought she took notice of his weapon. It was an infantry bolt rifle of a model she couldn't identify, probably the most the soldier could reliably lift without a striker unit of his own. The problem was that the rate of fire was too low to properly hit anything in a dogfight against any kind of aerial neuroi, and even if the witch could compensate with an vision spell or even precog the caliber of a standard rifle was simply too small to penetrate the armor of even small neuroi drones.
She was bought out of her musings with an announcement from the control tower. "Observer three, firing range is clear, follow Captain Schwarzkopf for attack run."
"Roger." As the only germanic native speaker amongst the duty witches part of the demonstration she had been elected as the captain wingwoman and communicate with him in case of comms damage or an unforeseen event.
As soon as the go signal was given the captain shot towards the first cluster of targets at what she had identified as his maximum speed.
"Commencing firing test, Explosive spell three rounds, target three hundred meters."
As soon as he said that his magic noticeably flared for the first time since the start of the test as his rifle started to glow. Without bothering to slow down he shot three times towards the balloon set at his four o'clock. Ursula just had time to notice through the Bloodhound spell that each shot had exactly the same amount of mana, a rarity in terms of consistency.
The effect was dramatic and nearly instantaneous as the magic bullets detonated one by one with the force of a fliegerfaust light rocket just as they were near their target, creating five clouds of fiery smoke that ignited their target.
"Heading towards ground target." Without bothering to admire the destruction of the balloon he dived towards the destroyed Renault light tank with a red ball in the middle of the hole that killed the vehicle during the initial phases of the Battle for Gallia simulating an armored Neuroi.
"Armor piercing spell five rounds, target two hundred and fifty meters." As he said that he positioned himself above and behind the tank, a good blind spot if the vehicle had been a neuroi but a terrible angle to hit the ball, this time taking careful aim with the iron sights of his rifle while the golden hue of his eyes intensified. The five rounds hit the top armor of the tank, despite being the thinnest part of the vehicle it should have been enough to stop the ammunition on its tracks, but while the holes were small it was undeniable that they had gone through, with at least one hitting the simulated core.
This time she was close enough to see a satisfied grin on his face flash for a moment before he started ascending straight up to a heigh of twelve hundred meters and faced the distant set of balloons in the far side of the range while reloading his gun. Facing towards her face for the first time since the start of the test he spoke with his radio off. "Okay, this one is going to take a while so bear with me for a moment."
"Yes."
Once more activating his radio he announced for the third and last time. "Long range artillery fire one shot, target one thousand eight hundred meters." Said that he made no motion to get closer to the target, instead he started externalizing his magic once more, this time with his gun illuminating with the accumulation of magical power.
Meanwhile the Bloodhound spell was giving her a trove of information, in particular because she was so close she could compare the readings with what was she seeing, giving her more context than usual. For starters she was somewhat surprised that the gun itself was being subjected to what appeared to be simple Strengthening magic combined with an unreleased Flow spell inside the barrel, she could not recognize the far more complex spell all but leaking from the chamber but if his assertion of this being long range artillery were true then it probably was a variation of the previous explosive spell. Surprisingly there was also a more subtle emission of magic directed as an invisible beam towards the target.
It took only a few seconds of hovering before he unleashed the spell, the shot creating a short-lived visible trail of magic light as it travelled towards the target balloon and detonated with what was in her opinion the equivalent to a 105mm HE shell.
More important, neither the artillery spell nor the previous explosive and penetrating spells were any kind of elemental spell as far as they were defined. Which hopefully meant that they could be taught to witches without a specific inherent magic ability. Attack spells like her sister's Sturm wind spell or the Clostermann family's Tonerre lightning magic were distressingly rare, with most witches being more naturally focused on defensive skills or the use of dangerous close quarters physical engagements.
As they headed to the hangars in order to test his shield spell under controlled circumstances, in this case hitting the magic barrier with a special pneumatic hammer, she started redacting in her head the report she was going to have to write to major general Dolittle. It was going to be imperative that the witches who were selected to train with the computing orbs would be skilled at learning spells and teaching them to others.
After a few years mostly living in the officers' barracks of Berlin the most lieutenant colonel Erich von Lehrgen could say about the two story building was that while practical the accommodations were spartan in size and decorations, especially considering the historical and diplomatic importance of the endeavor, although the multiple antennas and telephone wires indicated that the place prepared by their hosts would be more than appropriate for the ends of the cobbled together imperial diplomatic mission.
"Thank you, captain Ugar. These are by far the biggest and more comfortable quarters I have enjoyed in this last year. Heh, I can barely hear the machine guns in the distance." As a combat veteran and former commander of the 205th Assault Mage Company captain Ihlen Schwarzkopf had only until a week ago been guarding the muddy and cold trenches of the Eastern Front against the gallian forces so it was understandable he considered the new quarters more than adequate.
"Oh, don't worry about that, those are the members of the 501° JFW training their gunnery. In case of Neuroi attacks we have a shelter in the basement as well as the protection of multiple fighter squadrons and the Strike Witches themselves of course." The gallian military liaison assigned to them hastily explained the noise in heavily accented English, the lingua franca of the allied forces in Europe, much to the combat veteran amusement if the smile was an indication.
"Thank you, mister Pierre. I'll take it from here. Captain Maximilian Johann von Ugar said in much better English, as befitting a War College graduate, as he opened the door to a small meeting room. "Despite missing a spot of paint here and there the building is completely functional and staffed by our own people, we got full utilities as well as wireless communication through the portal. Our hosts have also put at our complete disposition a separate warehouse were the scientific and technical components of the mission are setting up their instrumentation."
"Ok, what about a military airfield and gunnery range? I need to train a score of mages from zero and to start planning the abbreviated training course I need to know what I have to work with." Schwarzkopf asked.
"We already have an auxiliary airfield assigned to us barely a kilometer from here, just behind the current headquarters of the 501° Wing, they are giving us full use of their practice course and willing to lend us some of their mages, I mean witches, to take part of the training both as trainees and as an OpFor. The only thing you're going to have restricted access is their habitation areas and maintenance hangars, and those can be visited as long as an escort is available."
"Are they keeping us from classified areas or interacting with their personnel?" Lehrgen asked as he took a cigarette from his engraved metal case and the rest of the soldier did the same, with Ugar taking his from a colorful paper package.
"I met yesterday with lieutenant colonel Wilcke and mayor Sakamoto; they are actually pretty enthusiastic about the new gear and giving us tours of their entire facilities without reservations. However, the colonel got a strict policy of segregation between her all-female wing and the men of her support unit, one far more stringent than even local military regulations, she won't even allow menials on base without someone from her unit shadowing them. Not that I can blame her, if I ever saw my 12 years old daughter half-naked and being ogled by a man thrice her age, I would kill someone, and it wouldn't be my daughter."
"Half-naked?"
"Disturbing side effect of their magic system, they need to be all the time in scandalous short pants, shorter than proper underwear at that, cabaret dancers dress more properly."
"I'm more worried about the fact that they have girls as young as twelve in a supposedly elite frontline unit. Do I dare to imagine she is as capable as mayor Degurechaff?"
"I have yet to see witches in action, at least after the initial acrobatic presentation they gave us when we arrived to set up this outpost, but the little I have seen of them while on visit on their base makes me believe that they don't share the same discipline standards of the Imperial Army in general and definitely not those of mayor Degurechaff in particular."
"Oh, you know Tanya? I haven't seen my former subordinate since she parted from the front towards the War College."
"Yes, we were peers in there, fighting for the top grades and a spot in the 12 Honorable Knights of our generation." Ugar said with a nostalgic smile. "In fact, she gave me some good advice back then that I'm still grateful about."
"Heh, nice to know. But back to business, how bad is the discipline issue? I was tapped for this mission since I supposedly helped polish Degurechaff in the Eastern front but truth to be told she always caused less trouble than soldiers twice her age."
"Hard to tell, in particular with the 501°, to begin with the unit is an international command, with members of eight nations in a company sized unit, that's eight different countries with different training standards and basic educational systems. Also, its worth mentioning that it is in fact an elite unit, every witch is the equivalent of a Named mage, with everyone with more than six months in the unit being an Ace of Aces against the Neuroi. That amount of talent and experience usually gives a pass to the occasional lapse in military decorum even before taking into account that no one is older than twenty."
"So, we can't expect that their level of competence is indicative of their countries' standards for regular units." Lehrgen said as he took notes. "What about their gear, these Striker Units?"
"As varied as their personnel, they literally have a different model for each of their mages, many of those from different countries. A mess that makes me feel sorry for the poor soul in charge of the wing's logistics and maintenance, but one that's allowing us to get a very good look of their top-of-the-line gear. Their Liberian mage, Yeager actually bragged to me that with her Striker Unit, the P-51H, she was able to reach a max speed of 760km/h and a 10 kilometers ceiling before stalling."
"Uff, that's almost a third higher than our best units, most mages can't hold the flying and oxygen generating spells needed with the low ambient magic of those heights. As far as I know only Degurechaff with her monstrous orb can even try to fight at that altitude, and I don't think even she can reach those speeds. I hope we're getting some of those for ourselves."
"As part of their preliminary agreements the Empire is getting six of their Liberian AT-6 training units in exchange for the six Junkers A-35 Computational Orbs plus the normal training and recruitment devices. However, we have been warned that the units are only compatible with female mages from an age group between 10 and 18 years old and the magic requirements themselves are prodigious when we compared with a magic testing unit the output of one of their average witches easily surpassed the A-Class standard. Under the current conscription laws mandatory recruitment of mages starts officially at 16, and the percentage of female women in the A-class mage tier is exceedingly small, in particular since their experts tell us that witch training get disproportionate diminishing results the older it starts. And that's not taking into account other parameters we're unaware of."
"Of around a hundred and fifty mages I personally know I think only two would pass minimum requirements, and one of those is actually too young for conscription. I think we're not getting our money worth in this deal."
"Which is why in addition to the Striker Units general Bradley is transferring a wing of second line fighter bombers, forty Liberian P-40 Warhawks capable of reaching 570 km/h." Lehrgen said with a rare predatory smile, despite being a second line fighter by this world's standards, it would easily outrun anything the Empire enemies had available.
"Generous on their part, too generous. What's their angle?" If Lehrgen didn't knew captain Schwarzkopf had such a high opinion of Degurechaff he would have been perfectly satisfied with the man's perfectly reasonable amount of paranoia regarding diplomacy.
"We're not completely sure, it's obvious they're incredibly interested in our orb technology, also is probably a show of force, after all it matters not that we have four times as many mages as any of their nations if their non-magical forces consider those beasts that can easily hunt our bests mages unfit for frontline service."
"Test will initiate in 30 seconds. Stand by for recording."
"This is Observer Three, standing by." Ursula Hartmann answered the controller as she prepared her camera and casted her Bloodhound spell. She was one of three witches observing the test of the Otherside's magical unit and the only one not belonging to an active combat formation.
"Five, four, three… Mark." As soon as the countdown was over the man standing at the start of the aerial training course started levitating and after a heartbeat shot towards the posts representing the first of the obstacles of the range.
"Speed is 210km/h, maneuverability is within standard parameters for unassisted Levitation/Flow combination spells." She said to one of the radio operators below, as she leisurely followed the mage on her heavy BF-110C Striker Unit, easily matching the man's pace despite being known mostly for its low speed, low magic consumption and stable flight that made it suitable mostly for carrying the wing's heavy weapons by average witches who couldn't afford the magic needed for the additional weight in a high-performance platform like the BF-109 variants.
About a minute after he started the test her spell started feeding her nose with data. The Bloodhound spell and other similar ones were part of the family of sensorial spells that manifested through the sense of smell, most commonly (but not exclusively) found in witches who had a canine spirit, most witches considered them as unsuitable for the sky for how easy essences diluted with a strong wind, how slow the flow of information came compared to radio waves, optical or even sound-based detection spells and finally due to the dangerously distracting amount of information that came with every breath.
Ursula on the other hand found it vital in her duties as both an engineer and a test pilot for the Karsland military, the tracking issues not being a problem while closely shadowing a test unit and the wealth of information allowing to detect issues with the mana output or the fuel mix long before it became apparent on the limited instrumentation a striker unit could carry. Even then she was having a hard time tracking her quarry through the spell, he lacked the usual essence of fuel all strike witches left behind in their wake, and the emission of magic was likewise a fraction of what a witch would normally use, even while hovering.
All in all, it reminded her of some of the traditional broom racers of the Black Forest who performed during harvest festivals, controlled use of Levitation magic without a medium for a simultaneous Flow spell. Elegant in its simplicity, his magic was unusually steady with minimal fluctuations even when doing hard maneuvers, something particularly hard without the assistance of a striker unit to the point broom flying was considered advanced magical pressure training.
"Unit is gaining altitude. 700 meters, 950, 1,500, topping at 1,830 meters." Once again, she was looking above the male thanks to the superior climbing rate and ceiling of her own Striker Unit, and if she wasn't so aware of the sex and age of the tester she wouldn't have been nearly as impressed with the performance, the altitude was simply too low to engage most aerially optimized neuroi who would be able to rain beams from above at will.
Soon after the flying tests were over and the otherside captain headed towards the area reserved for the aerial shooting range. While he communicated to the control tower to ask for permission to use the field, a security measure to prevent maintenance crews or visitors from being caught inside by accident during live fire training, she took a moment to take stock of his appearance and try to find out the nature of his spirit. Initially her eyes focused on the back of his head, nothing the lack of animal ears on top of it -something rare but not unheard of, with her dear sister Erica and herself being the best documented cases manifesting only a discrete hair coloration when actively using magic- only showing a slight golden glow in his eyes. Then her eyes descended to his chest and the heavy wool jacket he was wearing, an oddity since most witches depended on their innate magic to protect themselves from the elements barring extreme climate.
But then she saw his pants and couldn't suppress a pained whimper. The one constant all witches shared was the absolute need to freely manifest the tail of their spirit, even when not using enough magic for it to physically show there was a primal need to keep access free which was why the most a witch would ever wear was a light dress or a thin pantyhose and most of the time they would rather have the minimum amount of fabric, or ideally none at all (a fact that her own boyfriend always appreciated in the mornings). By contrast captain Schwarzkopf was casting a constant Levitation spell while wearing thick trousers and his spirit didn't show any sign of discomfort through irregularities in his magical output.
Thinking about it, he didn't have the phantom smell of any animal either… That drove the point of him using a completely different system, instead of a variation of their own druidic or shinto spiritual traditions, more than anyone of the assertions of the government ever could.
Almost as an afterthought she took notice of his weapon. It was an infantry bolt rifle of a model she couldn't identify, probably the most the soldier could reliably lift without a striker unit of his own. The problem was that the rate of fire was too low to properly hit anything in a dogfight against any kind of aerial neuroi, and even if the witch could compensate with an vision spell or even precog the caliber of a standard rifle was simply too small to penetrate the armor of even small neuroi drones.
She was bought out of her musings with an announcement from the control tower. "Observer three, firing range is clear, follow Captain Schwarzkopf for attack run."
"Roger." As the only germanic native speaker amongst the duty witches part of the demonstration she had been elected as the captain wingwoman and communicate with him in case of comms damage or an unforeseen event.
As soon as the go signal was given the captain shot towards the first cluster of targets at what she had identified as his maximum speed.
"Commencing firing test, Explosive spell three rounds, target three hundred meters."
As soon as he said that his magic noticeably flared for the first time since the start of the test as his rifle started to glow. Without bothering to slow down he shot three times towards the balloon set at his four o'clock. Ursula just had time to notice through the Bloodhound spell that each shot had exactly the same amount of mana, a rarity in terms of consistency.
The effect was dramatic and nearly instantaneous as the magic bullets detonated one by one with the force of a fliegerfaust light rocket just as they were near their target, creating five clouds of fiery smoke that ignited their target.
"Heading towards ground target." Without bothering to admire the destruction of the balloon he dived towards the destroyed Renault light tank with a red ball in the middle of the hole that killed the vehicle during the initial phases of the Battle for Gallia simulating an armored Neuroi.
"Armor piercing spell five rounds, target two hundred and fifty meters." As he said that he positioned himself above and behind the tank, a good blind spot if the vehicle had been a neuroi but a terrible angle to hit the ball, this time taking careful aim with the iron sights of his rifle while the golden hue of his eyes intensified. The five rounds hit the top armor of the tank, despite being the thinnest part of the vehicle it should have been enough to stop the ammunition on its tracks, but while the holes were small it was undeniable that they had gone through, with at least one hitting the simulated core.
This time she was close enough to see a satisfied grin on his face flash for a moment before he started ascending straight up to a heigh of twelve hundred meters and faced the distant set of balloons in the far side of the range while reloading his gun. Facing towards her face for the first time since the start of the test he spoke with his radio off. "Okay, this one is going to take a while so bear with me for a moment."
"Yes."
Once more activating his radio he announced for the third and last time. "Long range artillery fire one shot, target one thousand eight hundred meters." Said that he made no motion to get closer to the target, instead he started externalizing his magic once more, this time with his gun illuminating with the accumulation of magical power.
Meanwhile the Bloodhound spell was giving her a trove of information, in particular because she was so close she could compare the readings with what was she seeing, giving her more context than usual. For starters she was somewhat surprised that the gun itself was being subjected to what appeared to be simple Strengthening magic combined with an unreleased Flow spell inside the barrel, she could not recognize the far more complex spell all but leaking from the chamber but if his assertion of this being long range artillery were true then it probably was a variation of the previous explosive spell. Surprisingly there was also a more subtle emission of magic directed as an invisible beam towards the target.
It took only a few seconds of hovering before he unleashed the spell, the shot creating a short-lived visible trail of magic light as it travelled towards the target balloon and detonated with what was in her opinion the equivalent to a 105mm HE shell.
More important, neither the artillery spell nor the previous explosive and penetrating spells were any kind of elemental spell as far as they were defined. Which hopefully meant that they could be taught to witches without a specific inherent magic ability. Attack spells like her sister's Sturm wind spell or the Clostermann family's Tonerre lightning magic were distressingly rare, with most witches being more naturally focused on defensive skills or the use of dangerous close quarters physical engagements.
As they headed to the hangars in order to test his shield spell under controlled circumstances, in this case hitting the magic barrier with a special pneumatic hammer, she started redacting in her head the report she was going to have to write to major general Dolittle. It was going to be imperative that the witches who were selected to train with the computing orbs would be skilled at learning spells and teaching them to others.
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Chapter 02
BF110C4
Not too sore, are you?
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The base of the 506th JFW for all it was supposed to be a temporal HQ for the unit was already a well-known and famous landmark of the region, with at least one propaganda movie showing the luxurious building and the glamorous pilots guarding the skies over Gallia. That fame (or infamy if you asked some of the closest residents who occasionally had to deal with the boisterous and eccentric witches and frequently with the depressingly overworked and underappreciated maintenance crews) made even military personnel overlook the airfield nearby despite keeping a mixed Karsland wing of transport planes and BF-109 fighters tasked with supporting the Noble Witches. And now it had an experimental mage unit of its own, although one that still didn't know how to fly.
"One more time ladies, feed the magic slowly and try to feel when the orb has enough to activate one of its gems. The feeling is quite distinctive so you shouldn't have any problems." Captain Ihlen Schwarzkopf said once more to the females in front of him.
"Slowly, slowly…" One of the girls, the one-legged albionese flight lieutenant Alexis Tennant said as a pair of ethereal deer ears flexed in annoyance. Apparently despite her words the fifteen years old veteran was a little too fast since the quartz crystal of the Junker's practice orb once again broke the moment the magical overflow overcame its flawed-by-design cut, protecting the bigger and far more expensive jewels further ahead in the circuit.
"Bloody hell!" Also fair to be told she wasn't the sophisticated kind of albionese they liked to portray on movies.
"Miss Tennant, I am not familiar with your magic system, but I can tell you that shining is not part of the normal operation of an orb."
"It's because you're too forceful. You don't need to drown the dispositif with your magic, just feed it gently, as if you were watering a plant or preparing a potion." The third occupant of the room was a woman in her mid-twenties, and thankfully the gallian commandant was the first mage he had seen since his arrival who bothered to use pants. She was also pleasant and likeable to a fault, which made her difficult to hate, unlike the hundreds of gallian soldiers that had invaded his homeland and he had been killing his entire war.
Incidentally she was both the only B-class mage that he had meet so far and so far and the only one who didn't manifest either the animal ears or the fluffy tails.
"Then I have a problem Margot, because I'm too young to be chained to the kitchen in front of a cauldron." The albionese answered, still fuming as she opened her training orb and removed the quartz for the third time now.
The older woman quite deliberately ignored the both the barb and the lack of military decorum, instead focusing on the practice orb long enough to make the same quartz safety device -this time unbroken- pop as the magical input went wrong, cutting the circuit before a misshaped spell manifested …and at the same time activating a bell alarm. "Merde" she calmly cursed. "I can get the output well enough and I know I'm channeling the spell right, but this thing still doesn't work."
"Let me see." Ihlen said as he took a closer look to the crude device. The practice orbs used for basic training were oversized semi-stationary objects, the table clock device of a farmers table to the elegant pocket watch of the officer and gentleman. Alongside the rugged construction, easy access for maintenance and redundant safeties it had a few mechanical diagnostic readouts in order for the cadets to know where they were screwing up.
"Okay." He said while reading both the device and a reference manual. "Input nominal… the magic was directed at the correct circuits… jewel contamination shutdown? What jewel contamination?" Flipping pages of the large book he found the problem. … sapphire B1… interference of magic signal… reset system after each user.
"Is there a problem, Captain Ihlen?" The gallian said with a slightly concerned look, making her too relatable for his own right.
"Yes, but I might need to ask one of our technicians working with your scientists. Jewel contamination is what happens after a training device is used by too many cadets and the magic engraving shaping the spell clogs but all of these are new there should not be cross contamination.
Tennant's deer's ears comically flipped and flopped as she put a practiced thinking pose. "Let me have a look."
With that said she sprung a couple of complex luminous antennae from her head which pulsed red for a second. Any other thought was driven from his mouth as his computational orb's ECM sounded an alert of active emissions, strong enough that the interface was giving him the mother of all headaches.
"What was that?"
"Oops, didn't think you would feel that, usually us Night Witches are the only ones to feel an active tracking spell. Nowadays I usually track people in the practice field outside Bletchley Park, it has been a while that I need to tone down this much." The girl focused again and the modern looking antennae transformed in a pair of smaller deer antlers.
As she did, Ihlen fully disabled the ECM alert on his orb and checked that it had properly recorded the previous discharge. His support squad was going to love the recording, it was rare that to get this close of an active scan without the opposition's EWAR muddling things up, especially with the same unknown showing different emission modes.
"Okay, this is it. Margot, could you please try the infernal machine once more so I can get a clear recording."
"Oui." She once more focused, cutely twisting a strand of hair as she did so. Soon enough her hands glowed gently and then the glow disappeared as she put her magic under control before touching the practice orb …and once more unleashed the circuit break alarm.
Meanwhile Tennant was writing on her notebook a series of numbers and symbols, probably an emission log. The symbols themselves were completely different from the abbreviated Newton-Kesserling style he knew. Not surprising, it was already a small miracle they could even speak the same language, so it was sincerely too much to ask for them to use the same obscure notations for a completely different magic system.
"Okay, outgoing magic pressure was low, about a third of the minimum threshold required to activate a Miyafumi spell array." She then added in a whisper that he decided not to heard "and half as much magic I have been bloody trying to feed to the damn thing".
"No spell conformation on the way out either, as clean as it gets during casting, I could felt how it went through the first gem, filled it and then leaked towards the second, but I notice no difference before the gadget started ringing. "
"So then, what went wrong?"
"Maybe if we see what happens when it goes right? Would you mind captain Schwarzkopf? Please."
He thought about it for a second. To his ears the request sounded a little too practiced, likely she had orders to do the request and this was as good point as any to do so. That said he had orders to train at least one of their mages in using a computational orb and by recording a demo it would give valuable information to both parties.
"Ok, let's try it, ready to record?" As soon as the girl nodded he started feeding magic to the orb, trying not to take any of the shortcuts he had learned since his time as a cadet. Quickly a simply illusionary white light appeared in top of the machine, he kept it that way before changing it into a red, then yellow one.
"Huh? Could you do it once more?" He had been expecting the request, not expecting to find the problem in the first try so he once more did it, this time trying to feed the magic at a slower rhythm.
"Again" She was circling some of the formulae while doing taking further notes around them.
"Now, could you stop touching that device and just gather the magic in your hand?" This time she once more changed from antlers to her antennae, although without active magic emissions in what he assumed was a passive mode.
"Bollocks, the… your… magic is flat, as flat as tap water, hell as bland as ration's biscuits."
"Flight Lieutenant does our guest and instructor needs to be offended? Do I need to take notice?" The wording was polite, the tone warm, but the way the deer's fluffy tail raised as a flag told him that the albionese girl was suddenly reminded of their relative ranks.
"No ma'am. I mean, Captain Schwarzkopf magic it lacks the nuances I expect from a witch, any witch. It reminds me of something, but I can't remember… Chancy, he remembers me of Chancy."
"And what's a chancy?"
"That's my cousin, nowadays she's eight. She was evacuated from London and I managed to get her relocated to a hamlet near Bletchley. And she loves to play my antlers, and when she touches them I cannot help but to feel her magic, its faint but it feels similar to the captain."
"Eight, then a little witch but one not quite old enough to contract yet. And I think that explains what you mean." The commandant turned towards me and explained.
"When girls are young, they tend to glow with magic, calling spirits towards them, in particular the spirits of animals. It is said that when they reach certain age one of those spirits signs a contract with the young lady and in exchange of a warm home inside her womb and a fun childhood worth of memories the spirit will protect the child and share its magic."
"And before contracting you don't only have less magic and are unable to cast, you're also free from cross contamination. Bloody hell, does that mean no witch can cast on one of those orbs?"
He hoped that the albionese was wrong, many things depended on making the deal go through, and non-functional magic would make and interchange for that monster of a plane a lot more expensive, and his career would be part of the price.
"Good question. Let me try again."
This time the gallian witch didn't start feeding magic right away, instead she took a fountain pen, some parchment and a small leather book from her and without looking opened the page on a small magic pentagram with strange symbols on the points and plenty of notes in the margins, then methodically copied the part of the design on the parchment with the pen, leaving some of the symbols unwritten.
"What is that? Doesn't look like a Miyafumi circle." asked the younger girl as she peeked over the gallian's shoulder. Ihlen made a mental not to research the miahumi thing, it was the second time that word was mentioned in the context of magical circles and sooner than later he was going to need to learn their nomenclature.
"Northern Gaul has had a millennia long tradition of brewing that precedes even the invasion of the roman armies. There are many myths about that time, from the one where the druids were wise old men wielding magic through beverages made in huge iron cast cauldrons to the existence of a magical potion that could give a man enough strength to defeat a Legion on his own. Most of those are false or exaggerated but the fact is that we have a rich tradition that won't necessarily follow the common sense of magic, for example potions that can be used by all people regardless of gender or magical power.
As she talked she continued doing some obscure preparations on her parchment, including smearing some blood on it she had extracted with the help of a small penknife. "Now, we aren't the only ones with magic that can affect common people, the Rus for example got incredibly effective ointments that can even make people fly, but unlike them gaul brewing is not limited to old crones being chained to the kitchen and that is because we know how to purge our magic."
"Done, I guess. Now let's try to turn on this dispositif one last time." The commandant gently lowered the training orb until the input jewel in the front touched the top of the pentagram, then she firmly put her ring finger down on each of the lower triangles. The use of the seal was unimpressive at first, with the woman simply murmuring to herself while pouring magic, but after a few seconds the lines being touched by her fingers started to glow, and when the glowing part reached the writings on the second and third triangles of the pentagram the blood runes (or glyphs or doodles as far as he knew) actually became liquid for a blink and released an aroma that reminded him of the salted meat from his rations before the glow marched towards the covered up portion of the circle. And while he couldn't quite see the displays on the training orb the appearance of the illusion spell told all of them that Margot was successful at last.
"Brilliant, now we're making some progress, the chaps at the headquarters at Londinum will be happy about this. Now how I use this array?"
"I'm sorry, but I first need to prepare the ink for it and the materials needed will require to excuse ourselves, both to acquire supplies from my quarters and for you to have the required privacy to gather the required… fluids."
"I'm not squeamish, I can get my own blood as long as it's no more than a pint. Just lend me the knife."
The smirk looked a little out of place on the gallian woman "Oh, for the blood we only need a few drops on the parchment, for the ink on the other hand I'm sorry but we're going to need different humors."
"What do you mean by humors, I don't fancy being the butt of a joke as it is." By the way Marguerite smirk widened she already was, but how so?
"…Wait, are your medieval humors the same that ours?"
"Humors, you mean…? That means I need to gather my…? Ewww."
"Let me write you exactly what and how much I need to make the ink."
"All things considered we can try a few more times with the array you have in order to get some clear readings on the Orb and to write our respective notes and then we should adjourn for dinner." Ihlen was already dreading writing the report, pentagrams, humors and old fashioned potionmaking shouldn't be words used on a technical paper regarding top of the line orb technology.
"Captain Schwarzkopf, would you consider sharing dinner with me at a café nearby. I think we both need to question each other more thoughtfully about the mechanics of the orb technology. Lieutenant Tennant, you're also invited of course."
"No thanks. If having one leg has taught me something is how not to be a fifth wheel, just try not to exchange humors while you're there."
Ihlen decided to ignore the comment and politely answered the invitation while redacting on his mind the contact report he was going to summit to Ugar and hoping he wasn't going to get an earful about fraternization, or worse (better?), orders to fraternize. "I grateful accept your offer, commandant Bientot."
"Call me Marguerite, please."
Airfield #6, the location was technically part of the Elenium test grounds but far enough from the short-lived test of the Type 96 prototype that neither the explosion that destroyed both the labs and the closer facilities damaged it nor it was disassembled and used for construction materials for the subsequent fortification work needed to secure the portal from enemy action.
Now it was serving as the training and evaluation facilities for the new Testing-Command 40 under brigadier general Oscar Boelcke. Far from any of the three (now one) fronts the Empire was fighting it should have been a peaceful place.
…more or less.
"Target twelve o'clock low, prepare to intercept." Lieutenant Adolf Gallant said as he signaled his wingman, Joachim Schneider, through the radio. As soon as he was certain the enemy mage was well within the kill box he dived with his brand new Kriegsfalken, named that way in the squadron's internal documentation with the hope that bureaucratic inertia would prevent the brass from using a more 'imaginative' nickname for the imported pursuit plane.
The target was looking ahead and slightly below at the distraction made by the other element of his flight -in route to a simulated ground support strafing mission- just as expected. "Got you." Just half a heartbeat before he pressed the trigger that would unleash six streams of .50 paint bullets the unusually fast mage turned around sideways and started shooting with an orange Johnson Light Machine Gun at the same time as she minimized her profile, all without changing her airspeed or bearing.
Gallant knew the armor of his plane would survive whatever few bullets could hit at their current combined speed, that by keeping the same speed and heading the witch would be an easier target. However imperial doctrine regarding enemy mages laying suppressing fire was to evade the potential explosive or piercing spells and use the speed and height advantage for a second pass… and in that a blink of the eye it was too hard to disregard months of training reinforced with combat experience hunting gallian mages over the Rhine front.
"Remember, light neuroi react against threats only when you attack it or get within a sphere with a circumference roughly a football field long, even if they detected you early. They're so stupid they actually look cunning from time to time."
As he banked left and up to avoid the otherwise paltry fire he realized he had screwed up, he might be riding the fastest airplane in this world, but the Striker Unit behind him outclassed it in all aspects, including ascension rate and speed, only when diving it could hope to outrun her.
"Come on guys, get used to this, Neuroi are swift and hit hard, much more dangerous than this washout from Rockford, Illinois." Master Sergeant Lizz Gardner said as she lined up to chase the rear of her targets with her P-51A 'Marauder' roaring at full throttle, her speed advantage of 30mph neatly overcoming the initial disadvantage of speed as the imperial warhawks tried to regain altitude again.
"She's on my six!" His wingman said as the woman started going after them. Neither of the pilots were in a position to appreciate it, but the instructor's plane above could see the hilarious sight of the enormous size difference between the large P-40 and the small woman with a fluffy tail making it look like a playful lap dog chasing two frantic dobermans.
At this point they were in a pickle, if they keep climbing she would catch them in no time at low speed, she was still underneath them so diving would open their bellies to her shot especially because unlike them her gun would tract them without needing to reduce her dive angle, so the only choice was to level up and dogfight until they could disengage.
"Start turning, let's get her in the crossfire." The beam defense position was one of the tactical innovations that came from the othersiders, while his wingman was being pursued Gallant would turn towards him, catching the mage on the side and either hitting her with a deflection shot or forcing her to evade.
As Joachim turned left, he was able to see the witch and her weird flying pattern, she was indeed pursuing the plane but instead of flying in a straight line she was weaving up and down then left and right while keeping the same axis as her prey. He didn't have time for timing the pattern so he started shooting as soon as he could, trusting that the streams of paint bullets would compensate for it. And indeed, he saw some of his hits making her unusual bidimensional shield illuminate, even if they weren't enough to overwhelm it. The problem was that despite crossing behind her she immediately stopped pursuing her target and switched to him.
"Remember, neuroi are stupidly aggressive, they will attack the closer target despite making itself vulnerable without reason. That's one of the advantages of the beam defense."
It was indeed stupid to turn against him, especially so late in his movement. By doing that she had shaved part of her speed advantage and became even more vulnerable to his partner. The problem was that she was now in his tail and already close enough to fire. Deciding that imitation was the most sincere form of flattery he started doing a slightly more random version of the neuroi's evasive pattern, lasting just long enough for the next crossover and for the woman to once more switching target.
"Be more aggressive, defending only delays the inevitable, killing me on the other hand keeps you and your pals safe. If you manage to hit me, I give you and your wingman a goodnight kiss, and if you're lucky a good morning one as well."
"That would be more enticing if you were older than fourteen!"
"I am fourteen years and seventy-two days old. And you're dead mister." She reinforced her statement with a particularly long burst from her machine gun, hitting the control surfaces of the tail with at least five shockingly bright pink impacts, which under the exercise rules was a kill.
That said she was still following her own rules so instead of evading his last cross or using her superior turning radius to get in his six she did a supremely skilled flip in the air and started shooting straight at him. This time however he wasn't flinching so he answered the paltry firepower of the half empty machine gun with his own superior one, with three of his guns smashing apart the shield in front of her, and to his horror hitting her straight on the face with a practice round heavy enough to break bones at short range.
"Sergeant Gardner, are you alright?" Their combined speeds was too high to see the result of the hit, so instead he turned so hard that the plane's frame groaned under the stress, but gratefully the mage was not in the death spin his mind imagined.
"Perfectly fine, my shield spell might be crap, which is why I'm on a permanent training assignment, but I still got a mean Fortification spell up at all times. You could've hit me with one of Elya's fancy explosive spells and I would still be standing... bloody but still alive at least. But let's RTB and do the AARs, tomorrow I get to emulate a medium neuroi, and those ones are not as much of a bunch of predictable morons as the light neuroi you just faced… kinda."
"One more time ladies, feed the magic slowly and try to feel when the orb has enough to activate one of its gems. The feeling is quite distinctive so you shouldn't have any problems." Captain Ihlen Schwarzkopf said once more to the females in front of him.
"Slowly, slowly…" One of the girls, the one-legged albionese flight lieutenant Alexis Tennant said as a pair of ethereal deer ears flexed in annoyance. Apparently despite her words the fifteen years old veteran was a little too fast since the quartz crystal of the Junker's practice orb once again broke the moment the magical overflow overcame its flawed-by-design cut, protecting the bigger and far more expensive jewels further ahead in the circuit.
"Bloody hell!" Also fair to be told she wasn't the sophisticated kind of albionese they liked to portray on movies.
"Miss Tennant, I am not familiar with your magic system, but I can tell you that shining is not part of the normal operation of an orb."
"It's because you're too forceful. You don't need to drown the dispositif with your magic, just feed it gently, as if you were watering a plant or preparing a potion." The third occupant of the room was a woman in her mid-twenties, and thankfully the gallian commandant was the first mage he had seen since his arrival who bothered to use pants. She was also pleasant and likeable to a fault, which made her difficult to hate, unlike the hundreds of gallian soldiers that had invaded his homeland and he had been killing his entire war.
Incidentally she was both the only B-class mage that he had meet so far and so far and the only one who didn't manifest either the animal ears or the fluffy tails.
"Then I have a problem Margot, because I'm too young to be chained to the kitchen in front of a cauldron." The albionese answered, still fuming as she opened her training orb and removed the quartz for the third time now.
The older woman quite deliberately ignored the both the barb and the lack of military decorum, instead focusing on the practice orb long enough to make the same quartz safety device -this time unbroken- pop as the magical input went wrong, cutting the circuit before a misshaped spell manifested …and at the same time activating a bell alarm. "Merde" she calmly cursed. "I can get the output well enough and I know I'm channeling the spell right, but this thing still doesn't work."
"Let me see." Ihlen said as he took a closer look to the crude device. The practice orbs used for basic training were oversized semi-stationary objects, the table clock device of a farmers table to the elegant pocket watch of the officer and gentleman. Alongside the rugged construction, easy access for maintenance and redundant safeties it had a few mechanical diagnostic readouts in order for the cadets to know where they were screwing up.
"Okay." He said while reading both the device and a reference manual. "Input nominal… the magic was directed at the correct circuits… jewel contamination shutdown? What jewel contamination?" Flipping pages of the large book he found the problem. … sapphire B1… interference of magic signal… reset system after each user.
"Is there a problem, Captain Ihlen?" The gallian said with a slightly concerned look, making her too relatable for his own right.
"Yes, but I might need to ask one of our technicians working with your scientists. Jewel contamination is what happens after a training device is used by too many cadets and the magic engraving shaping the spell clogs but all of these are new there should not be cross contamination.
Tennant's deer's ears comically flipped and flopped as she put a practiced thinking pose. "Let me have a look."
With that said she sprung a couple of complex luminous antennae from her head which pulsed red for a second. Any other thought was driven from his mouth as his computational orb's ECM sounded an alert of active emissions, strong enough that the interface was giving him the mother of all headaches.
"What was that?"
"Oops, didn't think you would feel that, usually us Night Witches are the only ones to feel an active tracking spell. Nowadays I usually track people in the practice field outside Bletchley Park, it has been a while that I need to tone down this much." The girl focused again and the modern looking antennae transformed in a pair of smaller deer antlers.
As she did, Ihlen fully disabled the ECM alert on his orb and checked that it had properly recorded the previous discharge. His support squad was going to love the recording, it was rare that to get this close of an active scan without the opposition's EWAR muddling things up, especially with the same unknown showing different emission modes.
"Okay, this is it. Margot, could you please try the infernal machine once more so I can get a clear recording."
"Oui." She once more focused, cutely twisting a strand of hair as she did so. Soon enough her hands glowed gently and then the glow disappeared as she put her magic under control before touching the practice orb …and once more unleashed the circuit break alarm.
Meanwhile Tennant was writing on her notebook a series of numbers and symbols, probably an emission log. The symbols themselves were completely different from the abbreviated Newton-Kesserling style he knew. Not surprising, it was already a small miracle they could even speak the same language, so it was sincerely too much to ask for them to use the same obscure notations for a completely different magic system.
"Okay, outgoing magic pressure was low, about a third of the minimum threshold required to activate a Miyafumi spell array." She then added in a whisper that he decided not to heard "and half as much magic I have been bloody trying to feed to the damn thing".
"No spell conformation on the way out either, as clean as it gets during casting, I could felt how it went through the first gem, filled it and then leaked towards the second, but I notice no difference before the gadget started ringing. "
"So then, what went wrong?"
"Maybe if we see what happens when it goes right? Would you mind captain Schwarzkopf? Please."
He thought about it for a second. To his ears the request sounded a little too practiced, likely she had orders to do the request and this was as good point as any to do so. That said he had orders to train at least one of their mages in using a computational orb and by recording a demo it would give valuable information to both parties.
"Ok, let's try it, ready to record?" As soon as the girl nodded he started feeding magic to the orb, trying not to take any of the shortcuts he had learned since his time as a cadet. Quickly a simply illusionary white light appeared in top of the machine, he kept it that way before changing it into a red, then yellow one.
"Huh? Could you do it once more?" He had been expecting the request, not expecting to find the problem in the first try so he once more did it, this time trying to feed the magic at a slower rhythm.
"Again" She was circling some of the formulae while doing taking further notes around them.
"Now, could you stop touching that device and just gather the magic in your hand?" This time she once more changed from antlers to her antennae, although without active magic emissions in what he assumed was a passive mode.
"Bollocks, the… your… magic is flat, as flat as tap water, hell as bland as ration's biscuits."
"Flight Lieutenant does our guest and instructor needs to be offended? Do I need to take notice?" The wording was polite, the tone warm, but the way the deer's fluffy tail raised as a flag told him that the albionese girl was suddenly reminded of their relative ranks.
"No ma'am. I mean, Captain Schwarzkopf magic it lacks the nuances I expect from a witch, any witch. It reminds me of something, but I can't remember… Chancy, he remembers me of Chancy."
"And what's a chancy?"
"That's my cousin, nowadays she's eight. She was evacuated from London and I managed to get her relocated to a hamlet near Bletchley. And she loves to play my antlers, and when she touches them I cannot help but to feel her magic, its faint but it feels similar to the captain."
"Eight, then a little witch but one not quite old enough to contract yet. And I think that explains what you mean." The commandant turned towards me and explained.
"When girls are young, they tend to glow with magic, calling spirits towards them, in particular the spirits of animals. It is said that when they reach certain age one of those spirits signs a contract with the young lady and in exchange of a warm home inside her womb and a fun childhood worth of memories the spirit will protect the child and share its magic."
"And before contracting you don't only have less magic and are unable to cast, you're also free from cross contamination. Bloody hell, does that mean no witch can cast on one of those orbs?"
He hoped that the albionese was wrong, many things depended on making the deal go through, and non-functional magic would make and interchange for that monster of a plane a lot more expensive, and his career would be part of the price.
"Good question. Let me try again."
This time the gallian witch didn't start feeding magic right away, instead she took a fountain pen, some parchment and a small leather book from her and without looking opened the page on a small magic pentagram with strange symbols on the points and plenty of notes in the margins, then methodically copied the part of the design on the parchment with the pen, leaving some of the symbols unwritten.
"What is that? Doesn't look like a Miyafumi circle." asked the younger girl as she peeked over the gallian's shoulder. Ihlen made a mental not to research the miahumi thing, it was the second time that word was mentioned in the context of magical circles and sooner than later he was going to need to learn their nomenclature.
"Northern Gaul has had a millennia long tradition of brewing that precedes even the invasion of the roman armies. There are many myths about that time, from the one where the druids were wise old men wielding magic through beverages made in huge iron cast cauldrons to the existence of a magical potion that could give a man enough strength to defeat a Legion on his own. Most of those are false or exaggerated but the fact is that we have a rich tradition that won't necessarily follow the common sense of magic, for example potions that can be used by all people regardless of gender or magical power.
As she talked she continued doing some obscure preparations on her parchment, including smearing some blood on it she had extracted with the help of a small penknife. "Now, we aren't the only ones with magic that can affect common people, the Rus for example got incredibly effective ointments that can even make people fly, but unlike them gaul brewing is not limited to old crones being chained to the kitchen and that is because we know how to purge our magic."
"Done, I guess. Now let's try to turn on this dispositif one last time." The commandant gently lowered the training orb until the input jewel in the front touched the top of the pentagram, then she firmly put her ring finger down on each of the lower triangles. The use of the seal was unimpressive at first, with the woman simply murmuring to herself while pouring magic, but after a few seconds the lines being touched by her fingers started to glow, and when the glowing part reached the writings on the second and third triangles of the pentagram the blood runes (or glyphs or doodles as far as he knew) actually became liquid for a blink and released an aroma that reminded him of the salted meat from his rations before the glow marched towards the covered up portion of the circle. And while he couldn't quite see the displays on the training orb the appearance of the illusion spell told all of them that Margot was successful at last.
"Brilliant, now we're making some progress, the chaps at the headquarters at Londinum will be happy about this. Now how I use this array?"
"I'm sorry, but I first need to prepare the ink for it and the materials needed will require to excuse ourselves, both to acquire supplies from my quarters and for you to have the required privacy to gather the required… fluids."
"I'm not squeamish, I can get my own blood as long as it's no more than a pint. Just lend me the knife."
The smirk looked a little out of place on the gallian woman "Oh, for the blood we only need a few drops on the parchment, for the ink on the other hand I'm sorry but we're going to need different humors."
"What do you mean by humors, I don't fancy being the butt of a joke as it is." By the way Marguerite smirk widened she already was, but how so?
"…Wait, are your medieval humors the same that ours?"
"Humors, you mean…? That means I need to gather my…? Ewww."
"Let me write you exactly what and how much I need to make the ink."
"All things considered we can try a few more times with the array you have in order to get some clear readings on the Orb and to write our respective notes and then we should adjourn for dinner." Ihlen was already dreading writing the report, pentagrams, humors and old fashioned potionmaking shouldn't be words used on a technical paper regarding top of the line orb technology.
"Captain Schwarzkopf, would you consider sharing dinner with me at a café nearby. I think we both need to question each other more thoughtfully about the mechanics of the orb technology. Lieutenant Tennant, you're also invited of course."
"No thanks. If having one leg has taught me something is how not to be a fifth wheel, just try not to exchange humors while you're there."
Ihlen decided to ignore the comment and politely answered the invitation while redacting on his mind the contact report he was going to summit to Ugar and hoping he wasn't going to get an earful about fraternization, or worse (better?), orders to fraternize. "I grateful accept your offer, commandant Bientot."
"Call me Marguerite, please."
Airfield #6, the location was technically part of the Elenium test grounds but far enough from the short-lived test of the Type 96 prototype that neither the explosion that destroyed both the labs and the closer facilities damaged it nor it was disassembled and used for construction materials for the subsequent fortification work needed to secure the portal from enemy action.
Now it was serving as the training and evaluation facilities for the new Testing-Command 40 under brigadier general Oscar Boelcke. Far from any of the three (now one) fronts the Empire was fighting it should have been a peaceful place.
…more or less.
"Target twelve o'clock low, prepare to intercept." Lieutenant Adolf Gallant said as he signaled his wingman, Joachim Schneider, through the radio. As soon as he was certain the enemy mage was well within the kill box he dived with his brand new Kriegsfalken, named that way in the squadron's internal documentation with the hope that bureaucratic inertia would prevent the brass from using a more 'imaginative' nickname for the imported pursuit plane.
The target was looking ahead and slightly below at the distraction made by the other element of his flight -in route to a simulated ground support strafing mission- just as expected. "Got you." Just half a heartbeat before he pressed the trigger that would unleash six streams of .50 paint bullets the unusually fast mage turned around sideways and started shooting with an orange Johnson Light Machine Gun at the same time as she minimized her profile, all without changing her airspeed or bearing.
Gallant knew the armor of his plane would survive whatever few bullets could hit at their current combined speed, that by keeping the same speed and heading the witch would be an easier target. However imperial doctrine regarding enemy mages laying suppressing fire was to evade the potential explosive or piercing spells and use the speed and height advantage for a second pass… and in that a blink of the eye it was too hard to disregard months of training reinforced with combat experience hunting gallian mages over the Rhine front.
"Remember, light neuroi react against threats only when you attack it or get within a sphere with a circumference roughly a football field long, even if they detected you early. They're so stupid they actually look cunning from time to time."
As he banked left and up to avoid the otherwise paltry fire he realized he had screwed up, he might be riding the fastest airplane in this world, but the Striker Unit behind him outclassed it in all aspects, including ascension rate and speed, only when diving it could hope to outrun her.
"Come on guys, get used to this, Neuroi are swift and hit hard, much more dangerous than this washout from Rockford, Illinois." Master Sergeant Lizz Gardner said as she lined up to chase the rear of her targets with her P-51A 'Marauder' roaring at full throttle, her speed advantage of 30mph neatly overcoming the initial disadvantage of speed as the imperial warhawks tried to regain altitude again.
"She's on my six!" His wingman said as the woman started going after them. Neither of the pilots were in a position to appreciate it, but the instructor's plane above could see the hilarious sight of the enormous size difference between the large P-40 and the small woman with a fluffy tail making it look like a playful lap dog chasing two frantic dobermans.
At this point they were in a pickle, if they keep climbing she would catch them in no time at low speed, she was still underneath them so diving would open their bellies to her shot especially because unlike them her gun would tract them without needing to reduce her dive angle, so the only choice was to level up and dogfight until they could disengage.
"Start turning, let's get her in the crossfire." The beam defense position was one of the tactical innovations that came from the othersiders, while his wingman was being pursued Gallant would turn towards him, catching the mage on the side and either hitting her with a deflection shot or forcing her to evade.
As Joachim turned left, he was able to see the witch and her weird flying pattern, she was indeed pursuing the plane but instead of flying in a straight line she was weaving up and down then left and right while keeping the same axis as her prey. He didn't have time for timing the pattern so he started shooting as soon as he could, trusting that the streams of paint bullets would compensate for it. And indeed, he saw some of his hits making her unusual bidimensional shield illuminate, even if they weren't enough to overwhelm it. The problem was that despite crossing behind her she immediately stopped pursuing her target and switched to him.
"Remember, neuroi are stupidly aggressive, they will attack the closer target despite making itself vulnerable without reason. That's one of the advantages of the beam defense."
It was indeed stupid to turn against him, especially so late in his movement. By doing that she had shaved part of her speed advantage and became even more vulnerable to his partner. The problem was that she was now in his tail and already close enough to fire. Deciding that imitation was the most sincere form of flattery he started doing a slightly more random version of the neuroi's evasive pattern, lasting just long enough for the next crossover and for the woman to once more switching target.
"Be more aggressive, defending only delays the inevitable, killing me on the other hand keeps you and your pals safe. If you manage to hit me, I give you and your wingman a goodnight kiss, and if you're lucky a good morning one as well."
"That would be more enticing if you were older than fourteen!"
"I am fourteen years and seventy-two days old. And you're dead mister." She reinforced her statement with a particularly long burst from her machine gun, hitting the control surfaces of the tail with at least five shockingly bright pink impacts, which under the exercise rules was a kill.
That said she was still following her own rules so instead of evading his last cross or using her superior turning radius to get in his six she did a supremely skilled flip in the air and started shooting straight at him. This time however he wasn't flinching so he answered the paltry firepower of the half empty machine gun with his own superior one, with three of his guns smashing apart the shield in front of her, and to his horror hitting her straight on the face with a practice round heavy enough to break bones at short range.
"Sergeant Gardner, are you alright?" Their combined speeds was too high to see the result of the hit, so instead he turned so hard that the plane's frame groaned under the stress, but gratefully the mage was not in the death spin his mind imagined.
"Perfectly fine, my shield spell might be crap, which is why I'm on a permanent training assignment, but I still got a mean Fortification spell up at all times. You could've hit me with one of Elya's fancy explosive spells and I would still be standing... bloody but still alive at least. But let's RTB and do the AARs, tomorrow I get to emulate a medium neuroi, and those ones are not as much of a bunch of predictable morons as the light neuroi you just faced… kinda."
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Tank Witches (Liberion)
BF110C4
Not too sore, are you?
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First of all, on the Land Striker I have been doing a bit of research and I found a bit irritating the approach the series took to their magical tank girl equivalent. For this fic I have been operating on the approach that the Striker units are machines that use magic to simulate the functions of planes or tanks or whatever, while the weaponry available to witches, aerial or otherwise, are mostly light machine guns, antitank rifles and the Fliegerhammer, a multiple rocket launcher that is just realistic enough for it to be designed as a conventional weapon based on a bazooka for someone with superhuman endurance. The few times those rules are broken, like with the 30mm dual cannons or the monstrous 50mm gun, the design is huge, cumbersome and is generally commented in universe about its size and firepower being an engineering challenge. Then we get to the Land Witches having miniature tank guns of 75mm the size of a submachine gun and the shape of the historical equivalent main gun of the RL counterpart. And contradicting that way the way the anime, and many of the derivative works treated weaponry. So therefore between the fact that we don't get to see Land Witches in the movie and main series, which are the licensed works that I have direct access, and the way it makes harder to use a common magic system compatible between SW and Youjo Senki I decided to have them use of conventional weapons, although with less weight restrictions due to they not needing to fly and having more stable fire platforms. Also, just like the completely fictional Fliegerhammer, the army reserves the right to design weapon systems operated only by witches or by conventional forces.
The mainstream design of the Liberion forces Land Witches is the M10 Land Striker Unit 'Wolverine', a rugged and reliable design made to be highly compatible with witches of most physical complexions and to minimize the use of magic, and the maintenance requirements. Even nations with their own more effective indigenous designs have imported the M10 as a way of increasing the recruitment of low powered witches that would otherwise be unable to operate a striker unit in combat conditions. The main disadvantages of the M10 are poor cross country mobility thanks to conservative land tracks, reduced ability to shift the magic distribution from mobility to shields, having to rely in the reinforcement of the Striker's armored skin on a greater measure than comparable designs and in general a low ceiling in performance for witches with larger than average magical pressure.
A well-supplied Liberion Witch Battalion has in average three M10 units per witch, one in use, one as a spare at company level and the third one in either reserve or being under maintenance, refurbished or upgraded in the battalion's mobile workshops and depots. It's not rare that during particularly challenging operations, spare strikers are lend to friendly units to replace material loses and keep momentum.
The M18 Land Striker Unit 'Hellcat' is a parallel design to the M10 Wolverine, faster and with a higher tolerance for magic channeling but less armored and lower battlefield endurance. The M18 with its excellent ground speed of 55mph is intended to dash in the open and scurry from cover to cover, all while dealing punishing damage to the Neuroi with its weapons and spells.
Any witch assigned to one of the Witch Mechanized Squadron or Marine Expeditionary Witch Companies can request an M18 instead of the general issue M10, as long as the magical pressure and magic reserves are enough for its continuous operation and a training course can be arranged for the witch in question, although less than fifth of the witches in the Army and Marines can keep up with the magic requirements without either a large magic pool available or the kind of efficient consumption that comes with experience which means that most of the Hellcat users are veterans between 15 and 18 years old with the outliers being particularly powerful recruits so in most units they are considered elite troops and assigned for the hunt of atypical Neuroi land units.
The Liberian Army Witch Command in Salem Massachusetts has established guidelines to the development and equipment of their Tank Witches aimed at maximizing their strategic mobility by streamlining the logistical footprint of the unit. As part of this policy, every general issued weapon must use the same ammunition as conventional units, so that they can depend on the supplies of local forces until their logistics can reach them.
The M7 is a liberian heavy bolt rifle that used the same munitions as the M3 37mm anti-tank gun. The gun was designed for the exclusive use of Land Witches, and while the three round magazine and the large shells force the rest of the squad to carry additional ammunition its HE round is enough to blow small clusters of light Neuroi while in the hands of a sharpshooter the AP can one shot a heavy Neuroi through the thick external skin to hit the core. The M8 commissioned by the Marines is an enlarged version of the M7 capable of fitting the longer Bofors 40mm anti-aircraft shells.
The main weapon for liberian Land Witches (and allied forces supplied by them) is the M2HBW2. This variant of the .50 machine gun has a quick change 24in barrel (in lieu of the longer 35.8in barrel used by conventional forces), a manual safety absent in the crew served weapon, a conventional stock, trigger array and an optional detachable bipod for its use as a personal weapon. The gun has been limited to a maximum rate of fire of 30 rounds per minute to increase control and decrease ammo expenditure, but many veterans fix it up to the full rpm of the regular crew served guns. Additionally, it has specialized lateral grips that can be hanged from the left or right arm of the liberian models of Land Striker for a firmer grip while sprinting. The weapon was offered to conventional airborne units as a lightweight heavy machine gun but it was rejected due to limited range of the shorter barrel and the troops attempts to fire from the bipod without a Land Striker, even witches with reinforcement magic lack the weight to fire the gun and not fall on their ass.
The M15 Multiple Rocket Launcher is widely criticized for being a rushed and inferior copy of the Fliegerhammer. After the offer from the New Karsland government for licensing the weapon, just like the Gallian, Romanian and Rus forces, fell through, the US Army Ordnance Department started an emergency project to design a substitute based on the infantry's bazooka launcher. The Bureau decided on four M1A1 tubes with the new trigger magneto sparker and improved aperture sights of the M9, drastically reducing the firepower compared to the original with the view of lightening it enough for its use as a crew served weapon and trying to standardize it as an universal multiple rocket launcher for witches, infantry and tactical bombers.
As with many other weapons made by committee without the input of the end users, the plans unraveled fast, with the Army Air Corps rejecting it for both the Strike Witches and use by fighters in ground attack roles (although retaining a few units to arm the L-4 Grasshopper light plane)due to the short range of the ground based system compared to the already available 3.5in rocket, as well as the unfortunate tendency of its ammunition to malfunction at extreme temperature changes such as the ones experienced from high altitude flight. The infantry on the other hand faced no technical issues, but rejected the weapon as too cumbersome, hard to aim and with too high profile compared to the bazooka. Other than small numbers used by the Marines the Land Witches are the sole users, with Joint Strike Wings running a grey market of Fliegerhammers and their licensed versions to the Air Corps regular witch squadrons. On use by the Tank Witches the M15 is considered a first strike weapon, with the procedure being to fire two AT shots aimed at any medium or heavy Neuroi and the remaining HE at a target of opportunity before dropping the launcher and using their main gun.
Shields have been an essential part of warfare and witches have long learned how to make full use of them. They are often used as focus for Shield Spells, and as a general rule those spells cover a greater area than when they're conjured barehanded, on the flipside they also give the mental image of immobility which disproportionately to its actual weight slows down the user and has a negative impact on flight magic, which is why they're seldom issued to striker units. Also with the proper materials they can be made extremely easy to Reinforce, so they provide a second protective layer between defensive spells and the final Land Striker armor. Shields come in three general sizes, basic buckers attached as standard to the left or right arm of the Striker to provide personal protection without restricting movement, 30in shields for widen area of spells, and 4 foot tower shields that provides maximum spread of magical protection as well as full coverage and density for physical armor but the disadvantage of being so massive that the user is limited to one handed weapons like pistols, shotguns or submachine guns.
Both albionese and gallian witches use variations of medieval kite shields, with some of their colonial forces having their own traditional styles, the romagnan witches are drilled in the use of elaborate Scutum shield walls and defensive formations, rus and karsland armies use the wooden round shield for improved channeling ability, while the liberian forces -without a proper shield tradition- have been using what the other nation's witches deride as heartless slabs of iron which are nonetheless very durable and with modern conveniences such as armored glass windows for greater visibility, with the E8 reinforced full coverage 'Jumbo' Shield made of modern composite materials designed to diffuse Neuroi beams up to a Heavy type secondary emitter.
The Karsland Queen Tiger Integral Shield deserves a special mention, being a marvel of engineering that miniaturizes many of the elements of the Striker unit providing a rationalized and standardized magic circle which can provide improved, autonomous protection even when hanging in the back of the user and being able to channel -and in some occasions empower- innate abilities through it. At the equivalent cost of two prewar Panzer IV Land Strikers for each shield, and in average twelve hours of maintenance per each hour of active use.
The mainstream design of the Liberion forces Land Witches is the M10 Land Striker Unit 'Wolverine', a rugged and reliable design made to be highly compatible with witches of most physical complexions and to minimize the use of magic, and the maintenance requirements. Even nations with their own more effective indigenous designs have imported the M10 as a way of increasing the recruitment of low powered witches that would otherwise be unable to operate a striker unit in combat conditions. The main disadvantages of the M10 are poor cross country mobility thanks to conservative land tracks, reduced ability to shift the magic distribution from mobility to shields, having to rely in the reinforcement of the Striker's armored skin on a greater measure than comparable designs and in general a low ceiling in performance for witches with larger than average magical pressure.
A well-supplied Liberion Witch Battalion has in average three M10 units per witch, one in use, one as a spare at company level and the third one in either reserve or being under maintenance, refurbished or upgraded in the battalion's mobile workshops and depots. It's not rare that during particularly challenging operations, spare strikers are lend to friendly units to replace material loses and keep momentum.
The M18 Land Striker Unit 'Hellcat' is a parallel design to the M10 Wolverine, faster and with a higher tolerance for magic channeling but less armored and lower battlefield endurance. The M18 with its excellent ground speed of 55mph is intended to dash in the open and scurry from cover to cover, all while dealing punishing damage to the Neuroi with its weapons and spells.
Any witch assigned to one of the Witch Mechanized Squadron or Marine Expeditionary Witch Companies can request an M18 instead of the general issue M10, as long as the magical pressure and magic reserves are enough for its continuous operation and a training course can be arranged for the witch in question, although less than fifth of the witches in the Army and Marines can keep up with the magic requirements without either a large magic pool available or the kind of efficient consumption that comes with experience which means that most of the Hellcat users are veterans between 15 and 18 years old with the outliers being particularly powerful recruits so in most units they are considered elite troops and assigned for the hunt of atypical Neuroi land units.
The Liberian Army Witch Command in Salem Massachusetts has established guidelines to the development and equipment of their Tank Witches aimed at maximizing their strategic mobility by streamlining the logistical footprint of the unit. As part of this policy, every general issued weapon must use the same ammunition as conventional units, so that they can depend on the supplies of local forces until their logistics can reach them.
The M7 is a liberian heavy bolt rifle that used the same munitions as the M3 37mm anti-tank gun. The gun was designed for the exclusive use of Land Witches, and while the three round magazine and the large shells force the rest of the squad to carry additional ammunition its HE round is enough to blow small clusters of light Neuroi while in the hands of a sharpshooter the AP can one shot a heavy Neuroi through the thick external skin to hit the core. The M8 commissioned by the Marines is an enlarged version of the M7 capable of fitting the longer Bofors 40mm anti-aircraft shells.
The main weapon for liberian Land Witches (and allied forces supplied by them) is the M2HBW2. This variant of the .50 machine gun has a quick change 24in barrel (in lieu of the longer 35.8in barrel used by conventional forces), a manual safety absent in the crew served weapon, a conventional stock, trigger array and an optional detachable bipod for its use as a personal weapon. The gun has been limited to a maximum rate of fire of 30 rounds per minute to increase control and decrease ammo expenditure, but many veterans fix it up to the full rpm of the regular crew served guns. Additionally, it has specialized lateral grips that can be hanged from the left or right arm of the liberian models of Land Striker for a firmer grip while sprinting. The weapon was offered to conventional airborne units as a lightweight heavy machine gun but it was rejected due to limited range of the shorter barrel and the troops attempts to fire from the bipod without a Land Striker, even witches with reinforcement magic lack the weight to fire the gun and not fall on their ass.
The M15 Multiple Rocket Launcher is widely criticized for being a rushed and inferior copy of the Fliegerhammer. After the offer from the New Karsland government for licensing the weapon, just like the Gallian, Romanian and Rus forces, fell through, the US Army Ordnance Department started an emergency project to design a substitute based on the infantry's bazooka launcher. The Bureau decided on four M1A1 tubes with the new trigger magneto sparker and improved aperture sights of the M9, drastically reducing the firepower compared to the original with the view of lightening it enough for its use as a crew served weapon and trying to standardize it as an universal multiple rocket launcher for witches, infantry and tactical bombers.
As with many other weapons made by committee without the input of the end users, the plans unraveled fast, with the Army Air Corps rejecting it for both the Strike Witches and use by fighters in ground attack roles (although retaining a few units to arm the L-4 Grasshopper light plane)due to the short range of the ground based system compared to the already available 3.5in rocket, as well as the unfortunate tendency of its ammunition to malfunction at extreme temperature changes such as the ones experienced from high altitude flight. The infantry on the other hand faced no technical issues, but rejected the weapon as too cumbersome, hard to aim and with too high profile compared to the bazooka. Other than small numbers used by the Marines the Land Witches are the sole users, with Joint Strike Wings running a grey market of Fliegerhammers and their licensed versions to the Air Corps regular witch squadrons. On use by the Tank Witches the M15 is considered a first strike weapon, with the procedure being to fire two AT shots aimed at any medium or heavy Neuroi and the remaining HE at a target of opportunity before dropping the launcher and using their main gun.
Shields have been an essential part of warfare and witches have long learned how to make full use of them. They are often used as focus for Shield Spells, and as a general rule those spells cover a greater area than when they're conjured barehanded, on the flipside they also give the mental image of immobility which disproportionately to its actual weight slows down the user and has a negative impact on flight magic, which is why they're seldom issued to striker units. Also with the proper materials they can be made extremely easy to Reinforce, so they provide a second protective layer between defensive spells and the final Land Striker armor. Shields come in three general sizes, basic buckers attached as standard to the left or right arm of the Striker to provide personal protection without restricting movement, 30in shields for widen area of spells, and 4 foot tower shields that provides maximum spread of magical protection as well as full coverage and density for physical armor but the disadvantage of being so massive that the user is limited to one handed weapons like pistols, shotguns or submachine guns.
Both albionese and gallian witches use variations of medieval kite shields, with some of their colonial forces having their own traditional styles, the romagnan witches are drilled in the use of elaborate Scutum shield walls and defensive formations, rus and karsland armies use the wooden round shield for improved channeling ability, while the liberian forces -without a proper shield tradition- have been using what the other nation's witches deride as heartless slabs of iron which are nonetheless very durable and with modern conveniences such as armored glass windows for greater visibility, with the E8 reinforced full coverage 'Jumbo' Shield made of modern composite materials designed to diffuse Neuroi beams up to a Heavy type secondary emitter.
The Karsland Queen Tiger Integral Shield deserves a special mention, being a marvel of engineering that miniaturizes many of the elements of the Striker unit providing a rationalized and standardized magic circle which can provide improved, autonomous protection even when hanging in the back of the user and being able to channel -and in some occasions empower- innate abilities through it. At the equivalent cost of two prewar Panzer IV Land Strikers for each shield, and in average twelve hours of maintenance per each hour of active use.
Sidestory: Engagement
BF110C4
Not too sore, are you?
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- Mar 12, 2014
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Engagement
One thing most outsiders to the unit, particularly green privates and REMFs, always remarked to staff sergeant Henry Wilkes was how envious they were of the troops of the Witch Mechanized Battalions. On the surface it was a glamorous job, they get to march with young, beautiful women wearing nothing more than tracked greaves that didn't quite cover handkerchief sized panties and summer uniforms in which an undershirt was optional and yet were better protected than behind Shermans, plus the rumors of Witches being cozied by the higher ups with the best army chefs and supplies wasn't as far from reality as most so grub almost tasted better than rubber, even on the move.
But it was times like these, when he was peeking through his shaving mirror at a pillbox type neuroi that has already ripped apart a tank with the remains of some poor GIs who had the bad luck of discovering this particular enemy dissected by its defenses and left rotting a few feet in front of him when he really lamented leaving behind his battery back with the 82º Mechanized Division.
"I see three heavy gunports on the left side of the temple, overlapping fields of fire and no good cover or concealment from the outer buildings to the plaza. At least four antipersonnel clusters too." He was whispering, static neuroi were mostly deaf but it was always the odd one the one to kill you. Pillboxes, bunkers and other static fortifications were neuroi with large bodies reinforced by abandoned humanmade buildings and superlative firepower to make up for lackluster regeneration.
"And there's the AA sphere on the bell tower, full coverage above, and what do you want to bet it can shoot down as well?" The Lt in overall command of the detachment from the 612º WMB added, normally pillboxes neuroi didn't have dedicated AA emitters that prevented simple solutions such as calling a P-47 Jug to drop a bomb on it which was why command had sent a Land Witch platoon with attached infantry to support the 4º RCT trying to take the town.
"No bet sir. And the church is too sturdy for mortars, why in Jupiter's name do gallians think that a solid faith needs thick stone walls instead of just a devoted community? Think we can get a Long Tom barrage to kill this bastard?"
"Word is that Cherbourg and Brest got hit hard and at least one mobile arsenal was blown up on the Mortain counterattack, field artillery is to be rationed until new mulberries can be set up closer to the frontlines. With limited ammunition regimental artillery is going to be restricted to large neuroi hordes or worse. We'll have to take it down ourselves."
"Great, just great… Well, that thing went through the Sherman in a single shot. The girls are tougher than that, but it can shoot three beams, if they focus fire…"
"Get here with some bazookas, hit the wall and then rush under a smoke screen?"
"Thick oak doors, thicker walls and the neuroi reinforcing everything, the gallians build this temple to last, not even the M15s are making a big enough hole to get through before we're mincemeat."
"Then sarge, it seems we need to tackle this problem from a different angle…"
"A different angle my ass" Wilkes muttered as he climbed under the dubious safety of very thin walls three floors worth of stairs with a Garand on his hands and a box full of artillery propellant on his back while hoping when he and the boys were clearing the building they didn't miss a neuroi sleeper ready to attack while most of the platoon, including the Lt that was coordinating with the second battalion's commander, provided covering fire from less risky locations.
"Ok, now insert the barrel." He said under the protection of a thick smoke screen generated by two smoke grenades launched before entering the roof. There was a certain amount of irony of him having to show two twelve years olds -younger than his baby sister- how to assemble a 75mm mountain gun that the girls had lifted in loads heavier than themselves while carrying full bandoliers as well so he couldn't even properly complain about the weight of his own load out loud in the top of a wrecked toy store. Especially since it still was easier than the doll house he had helped Michaela assemble the Saturnalia before the war.
"Done sir!" He wasn't going to correct the blonde with the ears and the energy of her golden retriever familiar about him not being an officer and very much not being anywhere close to a sir, after all the lance corporal called that everyone older than her, even privates who she technically outranked.
He was still ensuring that the gun wasn't going to fall in pieces when the smoke screen thinned enough that the red and black sphere nested in the top of the temple overlooking the town's central plaza identified them as a threat and started preventive counterbattery fire. Fast firing beams started raining death in their position just to be stopped by the magic barriers emanating from the two older teens of the witch platoon, who instead of helping their juniors with the assembly of the howitzer had taken a defensive stance with the heaviest shields in their inventory used as a focus for the defensive spells well before their cover dissipated in anticipation for exactly this contingency.
"Ok, it's ready, bring it forward!" The two younger witches carried the gun minus its wheels -deemed too cumbersome to carry to the roof- to a position his men could load and aim the gun to a point below the red on black AA omnidirectional emitter nested in the bell tower, with the heavy AT gunports covering the streets that had destroyed the tank supporting the 4º Infantry first attempt to deal with the pillbox thankfully unable to angle up enough to attack at their current height, the neuroi imitating ground fortifications a little too well to its detriment.
He opened his mouth and covered his ears with his hands as well as he could while firing the gun, a habit from his time with the much heavier 155mm guns to protect his ear drums from the noise. The shot went through the barriers protecting them from the neuroi without disturbing the magical constructs and hit below the possessed bell tower, revealing the ugly black and red mass underneath.
"Let it have it!" While they reloading the gun the two unengaged witches took out their BARs, which they had carried in lieu of their much larger M1919s that particularly petite witches used before they were big enough to hold the more powerful .50cal machineguns in order to drag the pocket artillery to the roof, and started firing long bursts against the tower emitter, partially disrupting the return fire while the 75mm hammered the base of the building, hoping to reveal the core within in order to shoot it, but more realistically expecting a plain demolition job to crack the neuroi open so that someone could go inside and demolish it the hard way.
As it was the firepower the AA tower was straining the witches' defenses, the spell circle from the corporal Simmons on the left was already waning under the fast-firing beams. "Lizz, switch with Tina!" Staff Sergeant Taylor said, technically the commander of a witch platoon should have been an officer, and his superior, but education was wonky with the kids and many of the more mature ones who could be trusted with command couldn't cram enough time between missions to study for the required promotion exams to officialdom. To be fair those who did manage to eventually pass the exam could reasonably expect to reach O4 by their 'retirement' from the Witches Corps at their early twenties.
The black girl immediately stopped shooting, shoved the BAR to him without a word and then deployed her own magic barrier while accepting the slab of metal covering the older redhead. It said a lot about the shields that even with the additional heigh provided by the Striker Unit the relatively tall Tina was not only completely covered, but that even with her monstrous strength both Tina and now Lizz had to brace with their full body, he had once asked and the heavy (but manageable by a normal person) shields increased their weight when used as a medium to cast barrier spells, mostly because a shield was supposed to be as immovable as it was impervious.
"Drones!" Neuroi static units, such as pillboxes, bunkers and fortresses often produced a weak kind of short ranged garrison drone with pistol strength beams which were mostly tasked to swarm any intruder that managed to get inside an occupied building, but sometimes coming out to deal with immediate threats, such as a gun demolishing them.
"Load canister… fire!" They only had taken two canister shells with them, with more ammunition being brought by two privates running to and from the Beep in the street behind them, frankly in this kind of short range gunnery missions more usually wasn't needed since that was all a gunner could shoot before the neuroi closed the distance, but this time the height of their perch was working on their favor and the four-legged cubical monsters were delayed climbing the front of the stores, a shame the gun couldn't depress that much even with two grade schoolers each as strong as Hercules all too willing to lift the gun.
While his team reloaded, he and the rest of the witches looked over the edge and started taking potshots against the remaining dice from hell, despite depending on the pillbox's core the weak constructs were unable to regenerate on the field after a bullet hit them. Running out of the BAR's ammo and not yet willing to renounce to its superior firepower he went to the pigtailed girl who had given it to him in the first place and without asking removed another magazine from her bandolier -by this point everyone in the unit was completely desensitized from touching a half-naked female in the middle of combat. The moment the remaining neuroi reached the building the bear eared staff sergeant, without letting go of her shield, took one-handed a frag grenade from her belt and removed the pin with her mouth, leaving the live pineapple stew on her hand for a few heartbeats before letting it go, her innate magic of Timing allowing her to choose the perfect moment for an airburst detonation, and after taking a look to ensure there weren't any more sorties from the temple the gun returned to its demolition job.
It took eight well-aimed shots with a full load of propellant at point blank range for the AA position to crumble, the neuroi skin being excellent for resisting explosive damage but awful for lateral load bearing such as holding two thirds of a stone bell tower by itself. For once the weird angle they had been forced to set the gun had helped more than hindered, with the construct falling sideways and crushing part of the building, the part with two of the eastern firing ports at that.
"Tina!" No more words were said as the two veterans readied their M2's and launched themselves from the building and towards the opening in the neuroi's fire coverage. With Judy scrambling to take a firing position on the gap made by the sarge suddenly dropping her shield, he adjusted the howitzer to aim towards the third heavy emitter, noting in the back of his head that the dissipating AA tower meant that the defensive position wasn't a new type of neuroi but instead two known ones who by happenstance or design had nested together in continuous buildings.
Crashing on the stone floor with thunderous force the M10 Land Strikers went into full power, with the greaves switching into track mode and rolling towards the temple in a mad dash before the enemy reconfigured itself to compensate for the recently made blindspot. At 30 miles per hour the Wolverine was considered slow for a Land Striker, especially compared to the swifter Hellcat's 55mph but it still was far faster than a human on foot and the relatively large plaza was crossed in a moment while the two of them raised their arm's buckler to cover from the smaller but still deadly antipersonnel beams raining on them.
"Lizz, call the fourth and tell them the bell tower is down and the corner to the right of the atrium is clear of gunports!" All witches were wearing earphones smaller than most jewelry but still better than the stuff at battalion's headquarters with a range measured in dozens of miles and capable of communicating with each other and with normal radios -such as the fourth's wireless on their remaining Shermans- with little more than a thought. Which made it slightly ironic that his own halftrack less than a few feet from the building wouldn't hear the notice until someone send a runner. "Mike, you go to the back and yell the rest of the boys to come up here to support the assault, without the AA the plaza is a shooting gallery!"
All around the town started to fill with the sound of warfare as the nearby neuroi reacted to the attack against the pillbox, most likely the largest neuroi on the area, by rushing against the both the fourth's forces and the 612º Battalion detached infantry platoon, who already expecting such reaction had dug in and were waiting with weapons primed.
It was at that point that the neuroi went berserk trying to hit or delay the two witches armored thrust and the third gunport started firing blasts towards the advancing girls -who stayed away from its arc of fire- and despite it couldn't hit them the beams managed to hit the building behind, blowing at least one load bearing wall and making the entire edifice shake in its foundation.
He held with the rest of the gunners onto one of the chimneys for dear life while the two tiny girls stumbled by the force of the impact, dropping their shields and unable to regain their balance and footing jumping forward to the battlefield in front of them with only minimal armament. A scream told him that Mike, already close to the rear stairs, fell from the building without the benefit of a striker protecting him.
Quickly regaining his footing he surveyed the roof, the gun was okay, but out of position and without wheels it would be hard to relocate with three men. Joe and Eddie were both alive and well and already getting on their feet. About Mike he couldn't do anything for now and hoped the rest of his squad would send someone to look for them. He rushed to the edge, looking for the two girls who had half-jumped, half-fell from the roof, as he expected both looked at least alive but while Judy was up and had set up her barrier to cover for her partner, Lizz was struggling to get up and was holding her right leg, the greave trashed, with the sabaton halfway between walking and tracked modes. And both of them were under fire by one of the surviving antipersonnel clusters of the pillbox.
For all her scatterbrained reputation Judy had rallied remarkably fast, unslinging her BAR and backing up to assist her fellow witch, who was clearly scared, dog ears flat in fear, and made no move to activate the quick release of the striker. The two older witches were already inside the church by the moment everything went to Tartarus and not only unable to help but also their assault had stirred every remaining dormant neuroi in the plaza, and they were all heading towards their location.
To make things worse the ones on their left flank arrived first, focusing only on the youngest members of the platoon, by this point Judy had arrived to help Lizz but even if the girl was as strong as three men she was still heavily encumbered by the pigtailed witch and while her spell was holding well the barrage of red beams was playing hell on her field of sight. The sudden attack from the left was prevented by Lizz own barrier, but that left both girls disoriented and retreating to the right, towards the still active gunport.
"Stop!"
Lacking a more reliable way of warning them in the chaos of the plaza below Wilkes shot a short burst with his borrowed automatic weapon to block the girls' way. "What the hell!!!"
"Stop, shelter to the left! Shelter to the left!" He said while gesticulating with his hands, pointing towards the wreck of a truck with a broken axle, the closest piece of cover in the plaza that wasn't an unstable building under fire. Helpfully for once the pillbox shot its thick beam towards the already death Sherman, detonating some machinegun ammunition and making its danger all too obvious.
"Give them cover!" He emptied the BAR on the approaching neuroi infantry and lacking additional ammunition he unceremoniously dropped the gun and went for the Garand on his back just as the rest of his gun crew took positions on the roof and fired at the incoming mob.
"Roaches three O'clock." Joe warned, all of the neuroi in the plaza were of the light class, the invaders parody of infantry, but there was cannon fodder and there were roaches, the smallest kind of neuroi capable of even rudimentary tactics, in this case fire and movement.
"They're trying to flank them. Joe, screw a Willy Pete and try to hit the ones coming from the bushes to keep them honest. Eddy, we'll shoot at the ones Judy can't get a good angle, Lizz will have to take care of leakers."
In the background the bark of the short barrel M2's could be heard as the Taylor and Tina fought their way to the pillbox core. Soon the grenadier's Garand was aimed in the general direction of the church's atrium where a small garden was overflowing with unkept plants, a pill-shaped projectile on its tip. The white phosphorus grenade flew true and detonated on the dry bushes, the conflagration destroying only a couple neuroi but starting a little fire that spoiled their aim and caused just enough damage to force them to relocate. Meanwhile he was shooting at the rest of the roaches, which like their namesakes had suddenly appeared in large numbers from every nook and cranny, and were hiding behind any cover giving what passed for accurate fire for the smaller types of neuroi. While they were unable to coordinate with any other neuroi, they were just smart enough to support the suicidal charge from a safe distance so the stupider breeds could get close enough to overwhelm the witches with their close-range firepower.
Against a mob this size the rifles were little more than a bother with Joe's grenades being the only truly effective weapon, but the rifle fire showed Judy were to focus her own automatic firepower while Lizz defended both at close range with her barriers and a Browning pistol.
At some point the roaches decided that the half-squad's meager firepower was enough of a deterrent to be a bother and decided it was worthwhile to send a few of them to silence the three men on the roof. Compared to the hundred strong mob trying to engulf the girls a gang of a baker dozen neuroi didn't sound like much, especially with their height advantage, but they didn't have working automatic weapons anymore and the roaches were weaving through obstacles to make shooting them harder while keeping enough space between each other to limit the effectiveness of the rifle grenades. Even then they managed to kill five of them before the six-legged plague reached hand grenade range.
"Don't let them climb the wall!" He said as he took one last grenade and threw it to the ground, unlike Taylor he didn't have the confidence to let the fuse run for maximum effect, so instead of the highly effective airburst his fellow staff sergeant would have managed the grenades fell in the ground before detonating and the roaches had just enough time to disperse before they could nail more than a couple, but they gained a few seconds and he had the time to shot another one before the survivors started climbing towards his understrength, cannonless battery.
"Pull back. Shoot them when they reach the roof! And for Mars sake, keep away from the gun, if the ammo goes off the whole building goes with it." Roaches were flat, and aiming at them as they were vertical would be hard and at the same time expose them to their return fire.
During this small reprieve, while they all reloaded their guns one last time, he could hear the rumble of a tracked vehicle down the street, probably the cavalry coming in support, not that it would help them up here.
They all took aim from behind whatever cover they could find while keeping as far from the gun as possible, with Joe abandoning his rifle without trying to take off the grenade launcher and instead pulling out his backup gun. Soon the neuroi came, the first one of them receiving shots from everyone and disintegrating in a show of banishing crystals, but nailing the following ones was harder, with four of them coming up simultaneously while shooting exclusively at Eddie in the middle of their loose defensive position, before they managed to kill one their beams had struck the unfortunate soldier, who fell screaming with a hole through his chest.
The remaining neuroi divided in two groups, with one going after Joe and the other two coming straight to him. Instead of trying to hit the fast-moving bugs he took his smoke grenade (blue) from a pocket and throw it in front of him without even bothering to take the pin off. As expected, the neuroi weren't smart enough to differentiate between a frag or a smoke grenade or for that matter understand that throwing a grenade so close would hit him too -and ignite the 75mm ammo killing everyone and everything on the roof of course- so they evaded, and doing so gave him the chance to shoot one down with his Garand's remaining bullets and just as important time to move out behind the access door to the roof and temporally out of sight of the remaining neuroi who upon losing him started looking for him.
While waiting for the bug to come close he silently unbuttoned his shirt and the moment the skittering came close to the corner he made his move, launching the piece of cloth in top of the neuroi, leaving it blind and desperately trashing.
"Die you bastard!" He inverted his rifle, using the butt as a bat to hit the neuroi, the swing turning it backwards and then resorting to cubbing it to death, crushing the legs first before it could right itself back. With each hit he could feel the crystalline skin flack as he caved deeply through the thorax, until he was able to see the comparatively large red crystal orbiting on a hollow cavity in the middle of the monster. Not having time to spare he crushed the core with one last hit before running towards Joe who was trying to reach for his gun while comically holding his helmet, legs protruding from it and a bulge growing at its side as the roach tried carving its way out with one of its beams.
"Sarge!" Loading his rifle he shot the helmet in the weakened spot, turning the protruding legs into dissipating dust.
"Joe, check Eddie." Hastily giving instructions he went towards the edge of the building once more hoping that both children were still alive. Even before he could see it with his own eyes the sound of the Sherman shooting its gun and equally obvious the silence of the antipersonnel beams from the pillbox told him that the situation was finally getting under control.
After the fight those of the girls in good health had gone to support the rest of the platoon during the mop-up of the town, while he and his men had disassembled the mountain gun into its basic components and using ropes brought down the weapon to the ground. But now the place was deemed as secure and the soldiers of the 612° prepared to leave for the next battlefield.
Outside an aid station the 4º corpsman was talking to Mike, with both of his legs crushed it was going to be impossible for him to ever walk again, at least by conventional means. An additional offer to take him to the division's field hospital was once more refused as he was strapped to one of the platoon's halftrack, maybe the most important perk of the Witch Battalions was the access to magic healing, so if the Iowa farmer reached the 612º aid station alive there was still hope for him to prevent amputation and him becoming a cripple. Lizz was returning to base with Mike's medevac both for further healing on her broken ankle and to get a replacement striker from the battalion's stores while her own unit was repaired in the depot, leaving their magical unit at 75% strength.
Nearby in the Red Cross tent Judy and Tina were paying their respects to Eddie, as well as other soldiers killed in action during the battle, with the bodies of the unfortunate 4° infantry finally being recovered for proper sepulture.
He himself excused for a bit and walked to the nearby Temple of Zeus that had been freed from the Neuroi at such cost. More than a third of the building was destroyed, in particular the clergy living quarters and stores, and the rest was riddled with bullet holes from the witches close quarter fight but much to his surprise the altar itself was in relatively good shape, so in a rare pious moment he went to the corner of the room where a half destroyed effigy of Mars was resting, and left the customary offering of a rifle bullet, thanking his survival, testifying that Eddie had gone down bravely and finally apologizing for purposely damaging the temple in the course of battle.
It was then that Staff Sergeant Taylor came in, ignoring him as it was custom when visiting a different god. Unlike what was he expecting the young sergeant wasn't praying to Hecate, but instead leaving an offering of a peach to Proserpina, probably from one of the nearby trees or maybe she swiped it from a field kitchen, he couldn't tell if it was to ask for the injured soldier to survive until help could be given to him or to pray for Eddie to be judged worthy of getting into Elysium, or maybe for any other of the many soldiers death in the fight against the neuroi, the gods knew there were more names than all cemeteries in Europe could record.
He decided not to wait for her, everyone deserved a little privacy, especially in times like this, and head back to the squad. They were going to need to talk about both Eddie and Joe, mourn them and do so before they reached the next town. The war was far from over.
One thing most outsiders to the unit, particularly green privates and REMFs, always remarked to staff sergeant Henry Wilkes was how envious they were of the troops of the Witch Mechanized Battalions. On the surface it was a glamorous job, they get to march with young, beautiful women wearing nothing more than tracked greaves that didn't quite cover handkerchief sized panties and summer uniforms in which an undershirt was optional and yet were better protected than behind Shermans, plus the rumors of Witches being cozied by the higher ups with the best army chefs and supplies wasn't as far from reality as most so grub almost tasted better than rubber, even on the move.
But it was times like these, when he was peeking through his shaving mirror at a pillbox type neuroi that has already ripped apart a tank with the remains of some poor GIs who had the bad luck of discovering this particular enemy dissected by its defenses and left rotting a few feet in front of him when he really lamented leaving behind his battery back with the 82º Mechanized Division.
"I see three heavy gunports on the left side of the temple, overlapping fields of fire and no good cover or concealment from the outer buildings to the plaza. At least four antipersonnel clusters too." He was whispering, static neuroi were mostly deaf but it was always the odd one the one to kill you. Pillboxes, bunkers and other static fortifications were neuroi with large bodies reinforced by abandoned humanmade buildings and superlative firepower to make up for lackluster regeneration.
"And there's the AA sphere on the bell tower, full coverage above, and what do you want to bet it can shoot down as well?" The Lt in overall command of the detachment from the 612º WMB added, normally pillboxes neuroi didn't have dedicated AA emitters that prevented simple solutions such as calling a P-47 Jug to drop a bomb on it which was why command had sent a Land Witch platoon with attached infantry to support the 4º RCT trying to take the town.
"No bet sir. And the church is too sturdy for mortars, why in Jupiter's name do gallians think that a solid faith needs thick stone walls instead of just a devoted community? Think we can get a Long Tom barrage to kill this bastard?"
"Word is that Cherbourg and Brest got hit hard and at least one mobile arsenal was blown up on the Mortain counterattack, field artillery is to be rationed until new mulberries can be set up closer to the frontlines. With limited ammunition regimental artillery is going to be restricted to large neuroi hordes or worse. We'll have to take it down ourselves."
"Great, just great… Well, that thing went through the Sherman in a single shot. The girls are tougher than that, but it can shoot three beams, if they focus fire…"
"Get here with some bazookas, hit the wall and then rush under a smoke screen?"
"Thick oak doors, thicker walls and the neuroi reinforcing everything, the gallians build this temple to last, not even the M15s are making a big enough hole to get through before we're mincemeat."
"Then sarge, it seems we need to tackle this problem from a different angle…"
"A different angle my ass" Wilkes muttered as he climbed under the dubious safety of very thin walls three floors worth of stairs with a Garand on his hands and a box full of artillery propellant on his back while hoping when he and the boys were clearing the building they didn't miss a neuroi sleeper ready to attack while most of the platoon, including the Lt that was coordinating with the second battalion's commander, provided covering fire from less risky locations.
"Ok, now insert the barrel." He said under the protection of a thick smoke screen generated by two smoke grenades launched before entering the roof. There was a certain amount of irony of him having to show two twelve years olds -younger than his baby sister- how to assemble a 75mm mountain gun that the girls had lifted in loads heavier than themselves while carrying full bandoliers as well so he couldn't even properly complain about the weight of his own load out loud in the top of a wrecked toy store. Especially since it still was easier than the doll house he had helped Michaela assemble the Saturnalia before the war.
"Done sir!" He wasn't going to correct the blonde with the ears and the energy of her golden retriever familiar about him not being an officer and very much not being anywhere close to a sir, after all the lance corporal called that everyone older than her, even privates who she technically outranked.
He was still ensuring that the gun wasn't going to fall in pieces when the smoke screen thinned enough that the red and black sphere nested in the top of the temple overlooking the town's central plaza identified them as a threat and started preventive counterbattery fire. Fast firing beams started raining death in their position just to be stopped by the magic barriers emanating from the two older teens of the witch platoon, who instead of helping their juniors with the assembly of the howitzer had taken a defensive stance with the heaviest shields in their inventory used as a focus for the defensive spells well before their cover dissipated in anticipation for exactly this contingency.
"Ok, it's ready, bring it forward!" The two younger witches carried the gun minus its wheels -deemed too cumbersome to carry to the roof- to a position his men could load and aim the gun to a point below the red on black AA omnidirectional emitter nested in the bell tower, with the heavy AT gunports covering the streets that had destroyed the tank supporting the 4º Infantry first attempt to deal with the pillbox thankfully unable to angle up enough to attack at their current height, the neuroi imitating ground fortifications a little too well to its detriment.
He opened his mouth and covered his ears with his hands as well as he could while firing the gun, a habit from his time with the much heavier 155mm guns to protect his ear drums from the noise. The shot went through the barriers protecting them from the neuroi without disturbing the magical constructs and hit below the possessed bell tower, revealing the ugly black and red mass underneath.
"Let it have it!" While they reloading the gun the two unengaged witches took out their BARs, which they had carried in lieu of their much larger M1919s that particularly petite witches used before they were big enough to hold the more powerful .50cal machineguns in order to drag the pocket artillery to the roof, and started firing long bursts against the tower emitter, partially disrupting the return fire while the 75mm hammered the base of the building, hoping to reveal the core within in order to shoot it, but more realistically expecting a plain demolition job to crack the neuroi open so that someone could go inside and demolish it the hard way.
As it was the firepower the AA tower was straining the witches' defenses, the spell circle from the corporal Simmons on the left was already waning under the fast-firing beams. "Lizz, switch with Tina!" Staff Sergeant Taylor said, technically the commander of a witch platoon should have been an officer, and his superior, but education was wonky with the kids and many of the more mature ones who could be trusted with command couldn't cram enough time between missions to study for the required promotion exams to officialdom. To be fair those who did manage to eventually pass the exam could reasonably expect to reach O4 by their 'retirement' from the Witches Corps at their early twenties.
The black girl immediately stopped shooting, shoved the BAR to him without a word and then deployed her own magic barrier while accepting the slab of metal covering the older redhead. It said a lot about the shields that even with the additional heigh provided by the Striker Unit the relatively tall Tina was not only completely covered, but that even with her monstrous strength both Tina and now Lizz had to brace with their full body, he had once asked and the heavy (but manageable by a normal person) shields increased their weight when used as a medium to cast barrier spells, mostly because a shield was supposed to be as immovable as it was impervious.
"Drones!" Neuroi static units, such as pillboxes, bunkers and fortresses often produced a weak kind of short ranged garrison drone with pistol strength beams which were mostly tasked to swarm any intruder that managed to get inside an occupied building, but sometimes coming out to deal with immediate threats, such as a gun demolishing them.
"Load canister… fire!" They only had taken two canister shells with them, with more ammunition being brought by two privates running to and from the Beep in the street behind them, frankly in this kind of short range gunnery missions more usually wasn't needed since that was all a gunner could shoot before the neuroi closed the distance, but this time the height of their perch was working on their favor and the four-legged cubical monsters were delayed climbing the front of the stores, a shame the gun couldn't depress that much even with two grade schoolers each as strong as Hercules all too willing to lift the gun.
While his team reloaded, he and the rest of the witches looked over the edge and started taking potshots against the remaining dice from hell, despite depending on the pillbox's core the weak constructs were unable to regenerate on the field after a bullet hit them. Running out of the BAR's ammo and not yet willing to renounce to its superior firepower he went to the pigtailed girl who had given it to him in the first place and without asking removed another magazine from her bandolier -by this point everyone in the unit was completely desensitized from touching a half-naked female in the middle of combat. The moment the remaining neuroi reached the building the bear eared staff sergeant, without letting go of her shield, took one-handed a frag grenade from her belt and removed the pin with her mouth, leaving the live pineapple stew on her hand for a few heartbeats before letting it go, her innate magic of Timing allowing her to choose the perfect moment for an airburst detonation, and after taking a look to ensure there weren't any more sorties from the temple the gun returned to its demolition job.
It took eight well-aimed shots with a full load of propellant at point blank range for the AA position to crumble, the neuroi skin being excellent for resisting explosive damage but awful for lateral load bearing such as holding two thirds of a stone bell tower by itself. For once the weird angle they had been forced to set the gun had helped more than hindered, with the construct falling sideways and crushing part of the building, the part with two of the eastern firing ports at that.
"Tina!" No more words were said as the two veterans readied their M2's and launched themselves from the building and towards the opening in the neuroi's fire coverage. With Judy scrambling to take a firing position on the gap made by the sarge suddenly dropping her shield, he adjusted the howitzer to aim towards the third heavy emitter, noting in the back of his head that the dissipating AA tower meant that the defensive position wasn't a new type of neuroi but instead two known ones who by happenstance or design had nested together in continuous buildings.
Crashing on the stone floor with thunderous force the M10 Land Strikers went into full power, with the greaves switching into track mode and rolling towards the temple in a mad dash before the enemy reconfigured itself to compensate for the recently made blindspot. At 30 miles per hour the Wolverine was considered slow for a Land Striker, especially compared to the swifter Hellcat's 55mph but it still was far faster than a human on foot and the relatively large plaza was crossed in a moment while the two of them raised their arm's buckler to cover from the smaller but still deadly antipersonnel beams raining on them.
"Lizz, call the fourth and tell them the bell tower is down and the corner to the right of the atrium is clear of gunports!" All witches were wearing earphones smaller than most jewelry but still better than the stuff at battalion's headquarters with a range measured in dozens of miles and capable of communicating with each other and with normal radios -such as the fourth's wireless on their remaining Shermans- with little more than a thought. Which made it slightly ironic that his own halftrack less than a few feet from the building wouldn't hear the notice until someone send a runner. "Mike, you go to the back and yell the rest of the boys to come up here to support the assault, without the AA the plaza is a shooting gallery!"
All around the town started to fill with the sound of warfare as the nearby neuroi reacted to the attack against the pillbox, most likely the largest neuroi on the area, by rushing against the both the fourth's forces and the 612º Battalion detached infantry platoon, who already expecting such reaction had dug in and were waiting with weapons primed.
It was at that point that the neuroi went berserk trying to hit or delay the two witches armored thrust and the third gunport started firing blasts towards the advancing girls -who stayed away from its arc of fire- and despite it couldn't hit them the beams managed to hit the building behind, blowing at least one load bearing wall and making the entire edifice shake in its foundation.
He held with the rest of the gunners onto one of the chimneys for dear life while the two tiny girls stumbled by the force of the impact, dropping their shields and unable to regain their balance and footing jumping forward to the battlefield in front of them with only minimal armament. A scream told him that Mike, already close to the rear stairs, fell from the building without the benefit of a striker protecting him.
Quickly regaining his footing he surveyed the roof, the gun was okay, but out of position and without wheels it would be hard to relocate with three men. Joe and Eddie were both alive and well and already getting on their feet. About Mike he couldn't do anything for now and hoped the rest of his squad would send someone to look for them. He rushed to the edge, looking for the two girls who had half-jumped, half-fell from the roof, as he expected both looked at least alive but while Judy was up and had set up her barrier to cover for her partner, Lizz was struggling to get up and was holding her right leg, the greave trashed, with the sabaton halfway between walking and tracked modes. And both of them were under fire by one of the surviving antipersonnel clusters of the pillbox.
For all her scatterbrained reputation Judy had rallied remarkably fast, unslinging her BAR and backing up to assist her fellow witch, who was clearly scared, dog ears flat in fear, and made no move to activate the quick release of the striker. The two older witches were already inside the church by the moment everything went to Tartarus and not only unable to help but also their assault had stirred every remaining dormant neuroi in the plaza, and they were all heading towards their location.
To make things worse the ones on their left flank arrived first, focusing only on the youngest members of the platoon, by this point Judy had arrived to help Lizz but even if the girl was as strong as three men she was still heavily encumbered by the pigtailed witch and while her spell was holding well the barrage of red beams was playing hell on her field of sight. The sudden attack from the left was prevented by Lizz own barrier, but that left both girls disoriented and retreating to the right, towards the still active gunport.
"Stop!"
Lacking a more reliable way of warning them in the chaos of the plaza below Wilkes shot a short burst with his borrowed automatic weapon to block the girls' way. "What the hell!!!"
"Stop, shelter to the left! Shelter to the left!" He said while gesticulating with his hands, pointing towards the wreck of a truck with a broken axle, the closest piece of cover in the plaza that wasn't an unstable building under fire. Helpfully for once the pillbox shot its thick beam towards the already death Sherman, detonating some machinegun ammunition and making its danger all too obvious.
"Give them cover!" He emptied the BAR on the approaching neuroi infantry and lacking additional ammunition he unceremoniously dropped the gun and went for the Garand on his back just as the rest of his gun crew took positions on the roof and fired at the incoming mob.
"Roaches three O'clock." Joe warned, all of the neuroi in the plaza were of the light class, the invaders parody of infantry, but there was cannon fodder and there were roaches, the smallest kind of neuroi capable of even rudimentary tactics, in this case fire and movement.
"They're trying to flank them. Joe, screw a Willy Pete and try to hit the ones coming from the bushes to keep them honest. Eddy, we'll shoot at the ones Judy can't get a good angle, Lizz will have to take care of leakers."
In the background the bark of the short barrel M2's could be heard as the Taylor and Tina fought their way to the pillbox core. Soon the grenadier's Garand was aimed in the general direction of the church's atrium where a small garden was overflowing with unkept plants, a pill-shaped projectile on its tip. The white phosphorus grenade flew true and detonated on the dry bushes, the conflagration destroying only a couple neuroi but starting a little fire that spoiled their aim and caused just enough damage to force them to relocate. Meanwhile he was shooting at the rest of the roaches, which like their namesakes had suddenly appeared in large numbers from every nook and cranny, and were hiding behind any cover giving what passed for accurate fire for the smaller types of neuroi. While they were unable to coordinate with any other neuroi, they were just smart enough to support the suicidal charge from a safe distance so the stupider breeds could get close enough to overwhelm the witches with their close-range firepower.
Against a mob this size the rifles were little more than a bother with Joe's grenades being the only truly effective weapon, but the rifle fire showed Judy were to focus her own automatic firepower while Lizz defended both at close range with her barriers and a Browning pistol.
At some point the roaches decided that the half-squad's meager firepower was enough of a deterrent to be a bother and decided it was worthwhile to send a few of them to silence the three men on the roof. Compared to the hundred strong mob trying to engulf the girls a gang of a baker dozen neuroi didn't sound like much, especially with their height advantage, but they didn't have working automatic weapons anymore and the roaches were weaving through obstacles to make shooting them harder while keeping enough space between each other to limit the effectiveness of the rifle grenades. Even then they managed to kill five of them before the six-legged plague reached hand grenade range.
"Don't let them climb the wall!" He said as he took one last grenade and threw it to the ground, unlike Taylor he didn't have the confidence to let the fuse run for maximum effect, so instead of the highly effective airburst his fellow staff sergeant would have managed the grenades fell in the ground before detonating and the roaches had just enough time to disperse before they could nail more than a couple, but they gained a few seconds and he had the time to shot another one before the survivors started climbing towards his understrength, cannonless battery.
"Pull back. Shoot them when they reach the roof! And for Mars sake, keep away from the gun, if the ammo goes off the whole building goes with it." Roaches were flat, and aiming at them as they were vertical would be hard and at the same time expose them to their return fire.
During this small reprieve, while they all reloaded their guns one last time, he could hear the rumble of a tracked vehicle down the street, probably the cavalry coming in support, not that it would help them up here.
They all took aim from behind whatever cover they could find while keeping as far from the gun as possible, with Joe abandoning his rifle without trying to take off the grenade launcher and instead pulling out his backup gun. Soon the neuroi came, the first one of them receiving shots from everyone and disintegrating in a show of banishing crystals, but nailing the following ones was harder, with four of them coming up simultaneously while shooting exclusively at Eddie in the middle of their loose defensive position, before they managed to kill one their beams had struck the unfortunate soldier, who fell screaming with a hole through his chest.
The remaining neuroi divided in two groups, with one going after Joe and the other two coming straight to him. Instead of trying to hit the fast-moving bugs he took his smoke grenade (blue) from a pocket and throw it in front of him without even bothering to take the pin off. As expected, the neuroi weren't smart enough to differentiate between a frag or a smoke grenade or for that matter understand that throwing a grenade so close would hit him too -and ignite the 75mm ammo killing everyone and everything on the roof of course- so they evaded, and doing so gave him the chance to shoot one down with his Garand's remaining bullets and just as important time to move out behind the access door to the roof and temporally out of sight of the remaining neuroi who upon losing him started looking for him.
While waiting for the bug to come close he silently unbuttoned his shirt and the moment the skittering came close to the corner he made his move, launching the piece of cloth in top of the neuroi, leaving it blind and desperately trashing.
"Die you bastard!" He inverted his rifle, using the butt as a bat to hit the neuroi, the swing turning it backwards and then resorting to cubbing it to death, crushing the legs first before it could right itself back. With each hit he could feel the crystalline skin flack as he caved deeply through the thorax, until he was able to see the comparatively large red crystal orbiting on a hollow cavity in the middle of the monster. Not having time to spare he crushed the core with one last hit before running towards Joe who was trying to reach for his gun while comically holding his helmet, legs protruding from it and a bulge growing at its side as the roach tried carving its way out with one of its beams.
"Sarge!" Loading his rifle he shot the helmet in the weakened spot, turning the protruding legs into dissipating dust.
"Joe, check Eddie." Hastily giving instructions he went towards the edge of the building once more hoping that both children were still alive. Even before he could see it with his own eyes the sound of the Sherman shooting its gun and equally obvious the silence of the antipersonnel beams from the pillbox told him that the situation was finally getting under control.
After the fight those of the girls in good health had gone to support the rest of the platoon during the mop-up of the town, while he and his men had disassembled the mountain gun into its basic components and using ropes brought down the weapon to the ground. But now the place was deemed as secure and the soldiers of the 612° prepared to leave for the next battlefield.
Outside an aid station the 4º corpsman was talking to Mike, with both of his legs crushed it was going to be impossible for him to ever walk again, at least by conventional means. An additional offer to take him to the division's field hospital was once more refused as he was strapped to one of the platoon's halftrack, maybe the most important perk of the Witch Battalions was the access to magic healing, so if the Iowa farmer reached the 612º aid station alive there was still hope for him to prevent amputation and him becoming a cripple. Lizz was returning to base with Mike's medevac both for further healing on her broken ankle and to get a replacement striker from the battalion's stores while her own unit was repaired in the depot, leaving their magical unit at 75% strength.
Nearby in the Red Cross tent Judy and Tina were paying their respects to Eddie, as well as other soldiers killed in action during the battle, with the bodies of the unfortunate 4° infantry finally being recovered for proper sepulture.
He himself excused for a bit and walked to the nearby Temple of Zeus that had been freed from the Neuroi at such cost. More than a third of the building was destroyed, in particular the clergy living quarters and stores, and the rest was riddled with bullet holes from the witches close quarter fight but much to his surprise the altar itself was in relatively good shape, so in a rare pious moment he went to the corner of the room where a half destroyed effigy of Mars was resting, and left the customary offering of a rifle bullet, thanking his survival, testifying that Eddie had gone down bravely and finally apologizing for purposely damaging the temple in the course of battle.
It was then that Staff Sergeant Taylor came in, ignoring him as it was custom when visiting a different god. Unlike what was he expecting the young sergeant wasn't praying to Hecate, but instead leaving an offering of a peach to Proserpina, probably from one of the nearby trees or maybe she swiped it from a field kitchen, he couldn't tell if it was to ask for the injured soldier to survive until help could be given to him or to pray for Eddie to be judged worthy of getting into Elysium, or maybe for any other of the many soldiers death in the fight against the neuroi, the gods knew there were more names than all cemeteries in Europe could record.
He decided not to wait for her, everyone deserved a little privacy, especially in times like this, and head back to the squad. They were going to need to talk about both Eddie and Joe, mourn them and do so before they reached the next town. The war was far from over.
Chapter 3.1
BF110C4
Not too sore, are you?
- Joined
- Mar 12, 2014
- Messages
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- 1,702
The Allied Kingdom of Albion had been the force that moved the world for centuries, with colonies in all continents and such power than just a few words of their diplomats could topple nations. But that power didn't came without its challenges and no army, no navy could be so large as to be everywhere and do everything to keep the Commonwealth in working order.
To manage their extensive domains the Kingdom needed information, and therefore financed the best network of intelligence services ever known, multiple agencies tasked with anything and everything, from gathering cultural and statistical data through open sources, to listening for diplomatic rumors (and spreading a few more), from acquiring the specific schematics of Karsland-made tanks, to wiretapping the former liberian president and blackmailing him with evidence of his mistresses.
The particular department of the RAF tasked with this thankless job was unassumingly called General Duties (Admin) Branch and was tasked with keeping track of the developments in aviation and aerial mage operations.
"So Lancaster, what's the most recent word from the Empire?"
The not so honorable Wing Commander Gerald Winterbotham was an odd officer in the RAF. A naval artilleryman by profession who had early in the existence of the newly created service calculated that he could shave a decade of painfully climbing through the ranks of the Royal Navy into a comfortable position by carrying to his application interview a not-yet-classified study of naval airpower that proved itself very useful at the moment of negotiating the boundaries of the still undefined service regarding cargo transports.
The knowledge that he was a cynical bastard who was willing to backstab anyone who gave him a chance was neatly balanced in the eyes of his superiors by the fact that his military training was effectively useless in the new service and a slight acrophobia prevented him for getting proficiency in a new practical field, therefore coming with a perfectly serviceable excuse to boot him of the service the moment he became a liability. Which frankly just encouraged him to become too useful and knowledgeable to put in half pay.
Indeed, his superiors gave him the chance to deal with their fledgling intelligence service from the comfort of an office in the middle of Londinum, sending his way the liaisons from other services and even other countries, safety in their knowledge he was going to screw them long before they had the chance to screw the RAF.
"All in all the news could be better sir. For weeks we have been seeing movement on their mage industry that points towards them preparing to ramp up their orb production and now we got confirmation that is indeed the case." The lieutenant was a smart boy from a wealthy family, with a wide and deep palate for alcoholic beverages, from cheap beer of Liverpool's most seedy pubs to the finest spirits of the exclusive restaurants reserved to the Paris elite. A fine drunken lightweight act that made him look like a happy fool while keeping his wits to plump as much information he wanted from an underestimating public, and just as important, when his sky-high tolerance was overcome for real he was a weepy, sleepy and quiet drunk who couldn't get into real problems even if he wanted. That he was a C-class mage without enough magic to be combat capable was only a minor fault compared with his virtues.
"Oh for Christ sake, are the imperials readying themselves to mass produce that beast of an orb that they gave to the Devil's Own?"
The rumors of Elenium creating a limited run of a highly classified orb began to emerge from a particularly effective veil of secrecy barely a few days after the fall of Dacia. Before the unprecedented long range bombardment of the capital could even be attributed to mages instead of a bomber run against the pathetically defended city the military mission in Legadonia had their first confirmed sight by one of their long range observer teams of the Devil's Own as the previously unknown wing -battalion in the Empire's nomenclature- ravaged both a wing of legadonian mages using modern gallian orbs and a bomber squadron who lost half their numbers when the Devil herself -showing unparalleled speed and altitude- chased and shot down the planes. To make things worse the unit then followed this act by destroying their listening post with a long range explosive spell and with it all of the sensor's logs. That gave a sudden relevance to the Republican claims of the Devil being capable of creating a magical diffusive effect under combat conditions, one that a few refused to believe mostly out of misplaced hope.
From there no effort from the RAF and every other agency they could influence, order or beg was spared. Amongst other measures a kill team was gathering and a former legadonian officer who had survived two attacks -one of those nearly eviscerating him- from the Devil recruited with the express purpose of learning how she fought. Personally he thought it was a waste of time, with the Empire replacing their killer doll in a week with a mage less photogenic but likely more competent than a preteen and their factories still producing the new orb regardless.
For his part he had entrusted his men to gather as much information as possible on the Orb, its capabilities and ways to impede production as being a less glamorous but less deadly alternative to facing it in combat. So far the only confirmed success was to label it as the Elenium Type 95 and discover the Devil had a hand in its construction, although probably not a significant one since magical engineering degrees were usually not handed to 10 years olds.
"We cannot confirm anything about its production, the Imps keep the Elenium company security tight, in fact they have all but cordoned off their main facilities in Karsland and we have yet to position an asset in the company or the army's development team to confirm even basic performance figures. But we do have assets keeping an eye on Junkers and they can confirm that their magical labs are reactivating their A-35 peridot core line, and they're bypassing the embargo to do so."
The department head leaned forward, already more interested. "Can we confirm that? Downing Street has invested a considerable amount of resources to keep the Empire starved while feeding the Republicans just enough for them to stay in the fight. They're going to be miffed if months of bullying the rest of the world into declaring neutrality and enforcing it for real were wasted."
"Yes, military grade Apache Peridots from Liberia in big enough quantities to justify switching to the C version completely." As many other companies Junkers offered different versions of the same computational orbs in which the only practical difference were the materials used. For example the Type A-35A version used Steinkaulenberg mage quality agates for their cores and the B version made use of Carinthia's garnets while C, D and G versions used different imports to engrave the spell matrix.
For those in the know the peridot was particularly well suited to economical core production as cutting the gems into forms maintaining the magical conductivity required less finesse that for example the agate which translated into less hours of work required per orb by less experienced artisans, all in all a solid reduction in costs and time per unit.
Therefore, to keep them out of Imperial hands as soon as the war started Albion had put a considerable amount of diplomatic pressure on Liberia, the Middle and the Far East to enforce a draconian embargo, and recently had helped legadonian resistance to sabotage gem mines within the Empire's grasp.
"How sure are we these are liberian jewels?"
"A defector financed his relocation with a suitcase stolen from one of their gem cutting workshops. Three mineralogists of Cambridge confirmed the origin down to the specific mineshaft."
"And the Liberian gem mines were nationalized a decade ago…"
"I think we need to have a chat with the Liberian Mage Attaché and politely ask him to look into this."
"The liberians can be straight up contrary when we told them to do something. I think we even fought a war over it." Lancaster joked.
"Two to be more accurate, it would have been three but their cottoners insurrection and our own napoleonic wannabe headaches kept distracting both of us to the point we gave in and called a judge to resolve the issue, bastard force us to pay damages in the name of a corsair that wasn't even working for the crown or one of our proxies. But I digress, in this case their Magic Investigation Bureau will have to put a stiff upper lip and do their jobs, if the embargo fails before we get an answer to their 95's then every imperial mage is going to be the Devil's Own."
"If it gets to an international court we got enough evidence to win the case, but it would take years for it to provide a sentence."
"Then I'll have a dinner with their military attaché, he is just as contrary as the rest of them but would love to hear some gossip about some of the huns and frogs planes. I let him know that the assistance of their current Man In Black in service in the embassy will be appreciated."
"I think that to make dinner more palatable to me a present for the liberians is going to be the way to go, I have a pasable hispanian Reencuentro wine I can offer them."
"A Reencuentro? That's almost cooking wine. If you need, a friend of a friend can supply some excellent gallian Château Latour."
"Superb, bring it, if our liberian friends don't give us a headache we can share it all together with the dessert, if they do, I think a sanitized copy of the embargo files as well as one of the uncut peridots will be more appropriate to cleanse the aftertaste. With those I think that the strength of our hand is going to be clear in case we need to make a call to the higher powers if they try to dilly. Then we'll drink the Château in private."
"I'll deliver it directly to the office then."
"Good chap. There's another matter, I got from our liaison with Republican Intelligence a request for updated movements on imperial units in the Rhine, particularly air defenses in the locality of Arene."
"Arene? Wasn't that city taken at the start of the imperial counteroffensive and the Republic decided to abandon it without a fight."
"Yes, when the Central Army reinforcements started their thrust to reduce the Rhine pocket gallian command was hoping to reorganize their lines, counterattack and regain control of the region, so they declined to demolish the train yards and railway bridge, withdrew all regulars and territorials and declared it an open city. The imperials are using those facilities to distribute a large amount of provisions from Karsland's factories to their forward supply depots, and have in fact build up the existing roads and nearby riverside barges to increase efficiency."
"So if they bomb the place to kingdom come it's going to be a toothache for the imps and for me that's enough to give the frogs a proper heads up. Any nasty flying surprises around there?"
"Hard to tell, For some reason imperial pursuit squadrons have been rotating to the rear for reorganization and training. Response times and availability are down across the board, but there's no way of knowing how long will it last. Also there are some new airfields being established in the rear including one some 50 miles near the area, 120 by 5000 feet long with tarred macadam runways. Between the distance from the frontlines and how much weight they're prepared to take tells us is a bomber/transport hub but as every large runway it can be used for lighter planes in a hurry."
"Better mark it for them to strafe it on the way in then. Don't want an air bridge to ferry troops to spoil whatever they're planning."
"Troops? For a bombing run?"
"When have the gallians bothered to ask us anything before sending a squadron of Goliaths to pound into rubble the town next to its target?"
He returned to drinking his coffee before adding, "Oh, and before you deliver the brief remind our dearly continental brothers in arms that they are a bit late with the AAR's on their latest air incursions, tit for tat and all that."
Winterbotham then turned and for once dropped his omnipresent sardonic smile. "And Lancaster, take the occasion to dig why the Junker's 35. As an orb is a so-so design, not the worse but definitely not the one to take pains to mass produce when they got the Volkers standard model or the Elenium nightmares. Not the kind of thing to waste a blockade runner, not unless you're planning to expand the Mage Corps enormously. Put feelers in Dacia and Legadonia in case they're trying to conscript mages there, Dacia in particular should have an untapped mage population they can use against us."
To manage their extensive domains the Kingdom needed information, and therefore financed the best network of intelligence services ever known, multiple agencies tasked with anything and everything, from gathering cultural and statistical data through open sources, to listening for diplomatic rumors (and spreading a few more), from acquiring the specific schematics of Karsland-made tanks, to wiretapping the former liberian president and blackmailing him with evidence of his mistresses.
The particular department of the RAF tasked with this thankless job was unassumingly called General Duties (Admin) Branch and was tasked with keeping track of the developments in aviation and aerial mage operations.
"So Lancaster, what's the most recent word from the Empire?"
The not so honorable Wing Commander Gerald Winterbotham was an odd officer in the RAF. A naval artilleryman by profession who had early in the existence of the newly created service calculated that he could shave a decade of painfully climbing through the ranks of the Royal Navy into a comfortable position by carrying to his application interview a not-yet-classified study of naval airpower that proved itself very useful at the moment of negotiating the boundaries of the still undefined service regarding cargo transports.
The knowledge that he was a cynical bastard who was willing to backstab anyone who gave him a chance was neatly balanced in the eyes of his superiors by the fact that his military training was effectively useless in the new service and a slight acrophobia prevented him for getting proficiency in a new practical field, therefore coming with a perfectly serviceable excuse to boot him of the service the moment he became a liability. Which frankly just encouraged him to become too useful and knowledgeable to put in half pay.
Indeed, his superiors gave him the chance to deal with their fledgling intelligence service from the comfort of an office in the middle of Londinum, sending his way the liaisons from other services and even other countries, safety in their knowledge he was going to screw them long before they had the chance to screw the RAF.
"All in all the news could be better sir. For weeks we have been seeing movement on their mage industry that points towards them preparing to ramp up their orb production and now we got confirmation that is indeed the case." The lieutenant was a smart boy from a wealthy family, with a wide and deep palate for alcoholic beverages, from cheap beer of Liverpool's most seedy pubs to the finest spirits of the exclusive restaurants reserved to the Paris elite. A fine drunken lightweight act that made him look like a happy fool while keeping his wits to plump as much information he wanted from an underestimating public, and just as important, when his sky-high tolerance was overcome for real he was a weepy, sleepy and quiet drunk who couldn't get into real problems even if he wanted. That he was a C-class mage without enough magic to be combat capable was only a minor fault compared with his virtues.
"Oh for Christ sake, are the imperials readying themselves to mass produce that beast of an orb that they gave to the Devil's Own?"
The rumors of Elenium creating a limited run of a highly classified orb began to emerge from a particularly effective veil of secrecy barely a few days after the fall of Dacia. Before the unprecedented long range bombardment of the capital could even be attributed to mages instead of a bomber run against the pathetically defended city the military mission in Legadonia had their first confirmed sight by one of their long range observer teams of the Devil's Own as the previously unknown wing -battalion in the Empire's nomenclature- ravaged both a wing of legadonian mages using modern gallian orbs and a bomber squadron who lost half their numbers when the Devil herself -showing unparalleled speed and altitude- chased and shot down the planes. To make things worse the unit then followed this act by destroying their listening post with a long range explosive spell and with it all of the sensor's logs. That gave a sudden relevance to the Republican claims of the Devil being capable of creating a magical diffusive effect under combat conditions, one that a few refused to believe mostly out of misplaced hope.
From there no effort from the RAF and every other agency they could influence, order or beg was spared. Amongst other measures a kill team was gathering and a former legadonian officer who had survived two attacks -one of those nearly eviscerating him- from the Devil recruited with the express purpose of learning how she fought. Personally he thought it was a waste of time, with the Empire replacing their killer doll in a week with a mage less photogenic but likely more competent than a preteen and their factories still producing the new orb regardless.
For his part he had entrusted his men to gather as much information as possible on the Orb, its capabilities and ways to impede production as being a less glamorous but less deadly alternative to facing it in combat. So far the only confirmed success was to label it as the Elenium Type 95 and discover the Devil had a hand in its construction, although probably not a significant one since magical engineering degrees were usually not handed to 10 years olds.
"We cannot confirm anything about its production, the Imps keep the Elenium company security tight, in fact they have all but cordoned off their main facilities in Karsland and we have yet to position an asset in the company or the army's development team to confirm even basic performance figures. But we do have assets keeping an eye on Junkers and they can confirm that their magical labs are reactivating their A-35 peridot core line, and they're bypassing the embargo to do so."
The department head leaned forward, already more interested. "Can we confirm that? Downing Street has invested a considerable amount of resources to keep the Empire starved while feeding the Republicans just enough for them to stay in the fight. They're going to be miffed if months of bullying the rest of the world into declaring neutrality and enforcing it for real were wasted."
"Yes, military grade Apache Peridots from Liberia in big enough quantities to justify switching to the C version completely." As many other companies Junkers offered different versions of the same computational orbs in which the only practical difference were the materials used. For example the Type A-35A version used Steinkaulenberg mage quality agates for their cores and the B version made use of Carinthia's garnets while C, D and G versions used different imports to engrave the spell matrix.
For those in the know the peridot was particularly well suited to economical core production as cutting the gems into forms maintaining the magical conductivity required less finesse that for example the agate which translated into less hours of work required per orb by less experienced artisans, all in all a solid reduction in costs and time per unit.
Therefore, to keep them out of Imperial hands as soon as the war started Albion had put a considerable amount of diplomatic pressure on Liberia, the Middle and the Far East to enforce a draconian embargo, and recently had helped legadonian resistance to sabotage gem mines within the Empire's grasp.
"How sure are we these are liberian jewels?"
"A defector financed his relocation with a suitcase stolen from one of their gem cutting workshops. Three mineralogists of Cambridge confirmed the origin down to the specific mineshaft."
"And the Liberian gem mines were nationalized a decade ago…"
"I think we need to have a chat with the Liberian Mage Attaché and politely ask him to look into this."
"The liberians can be straight up contrary when we told them to do something. I think we even fought a war over it." Lancaster joked.
"Two to be more accurate, it would have been three but their cottoners insurrection and our own napoleonic wannabe headaches kept distracting both of us to the point we gave in and called a judge to resolve the issue, bastard force us to pay damages in the name of a corsair that wasn't even working for the crown or one of our proxies. But I digress, in this case their Magic Investigation Bureau will have to put a stiff upper lip and do their jobs, if the embargo fails before we get an answer to their 95's then every imperial mage is going to be the Devil's Own."
"If it gets to an international court we got enough evidence to win the case, but it would take years for it to provide a sentence."
"Then I'll have a dinner with their military attaché, he is just as contrary as the rest of them but would love to hear some gossip about some of the huns and frogs planes. I let him know that the assistance of their current Man In Black in service in the embassy will be appreciated."
"I think that to make dinner more palatable to me a present for the liberians is going to be the way to go, I have a pasable hispanian Reencuentro wine I can offer them."
"A Reencuentro? That's almost cooking wine. If you need, a friend of a friend can supply some excellent gallian Château Latour."
"Superb, bring it, if our liberian friends don't give us a headache we can share it all together with the dessert, if they do, I think a sanitized copy of the embargo files as well as one of the uncut peridots will be more appropriate to cleanse the aftertaste. With those I think that the strength of our hand is going to be clear in case we need to make a call to the higher powers if they try to dilly. Then we'll drink the Château in private."
"I'll deliver it directly to the office then."
"Good chap. There's another matter, I got from our liaison with Republican Intelligence a request for updated movements on imperial units in the Rhine, particularly air defenses in the locality of Arene."
"Arene? Wasn't that city taken at the start of the imperial counteroffensive and the Republic decided to abandon it without a fight."
"Yes, when the Central Army reinforcements started their thrust to reduce the Rhine pocket gallian command was hoping to reorganize their lines, counterattack and regain control of the region, so they declined to demolish the train yards and railway bridge, withdrew all regulars and territorials and declared it an open city. The imperials are using those facilities to distribute a large amount of provisions from Karsland's factories to their forward supply depots, and have in fact build up the existing roads and nearby riverside barges to increase efficiency."
"So if they bomb the place to kingdom come it's going to be a toothache for the imps and for me that's enough to give the frogs a proper heads up. Any nasty flying surprises around there?"
"Hard to tell, For some reason imperial pursuit squadrons have been rotating to the rear for reorganization and training. Response times and availability are down across the board, but there's no way of knowing how long will it last. Also there are some new airfields being established in the rear including one some 50 miles near the area, 120 by 5000 feet long with tarred macadam runways. Between the distance from the frontlines and how much weight they're prepared to take tells us is a bomber/transport hub but as every large runway it can be used for lighter planes in a hurry."
"Better mark it for them to strafe it on the way in then. Don't want an air bridge to ferry troops to spoil whatever they're planning."
"Troops? For a bombing run?"
"When have the gallians bothered to ask us anything before sending a squadron of Goliaths to pound into rubble the town next to its target?"
He returned to drinking his coffee before adding, "Oh, and before you deliver the brief remind our dearly continental brothers in arms that they are a bit late with the AAR's on their latest air incursions, tit for tat and all that."
Winterbotham then turned and for once dropped his omnipresent sardonic smile. "And Lancaster, take the occasion to dig why the Junker's 35. As an orb is a so-so design, not the worse but definitely not the one to take pains to mass produce when they got the Volkers standard model or the Elenium nightmares. Not the kind of thing to waste a blockade runner, not unless you're planning to expand the Mage Corps enormously. Put feelers in Dacia and Legadonia in case they're trying to conscript mages there, Dacia in particular should have an untapped mage population they can use against us."
Last edited:
Gems and magical engineering
BF110C4
Not too sore, are you?
- Joined
- Mar 12, 2014
- Messages
- 254
- Likes received
- 1,702
Gems and Magical Engineering
When Ada Lovelace expanded Babagge theoretical work on the Albionese Crown Sovereign Orb she was the first to point out the relationship between the Platinum-Selenium alloy of the body, and the mounted clusters of emeralds, rubies and sapphires surrounded by rose-cut diamonds, and single rows of pearls. Her examination and mapping of the cross on the top and the way magical energy interacted with the rose-cut diamonds and the sapphire and emerald on opposite sides of the center and with the pearls at the angles and at the end of each arm is considered the start of the mechanical magic revolution as well as the first scientifically written spell matrix.
From that moment forward an arm race started to analyze the remaining artifacts in the different national treasuries with diverse amounts of success. Artifacts such as the Gallian Tencendur which was emulated to create a short lived flying mechanical horse superseded by the practical combination of Levitation and Flow spells, while the fusian Yata no Kagami became the basis of the modern magic detection technology.
While there are still many mysteries to uncover in these artifacts two of the most understood factors are the metallurgy present in most of the artifacts of which there's a high correlation between magical and electric conductivity, although one that grows in complexity with the use of alloys; and the gemology, with a far more complex relationship with magical powers.
Magic absorption and retention, magic refractivity and dispersion, magically conductive inclusions and fractures are some of the factors that need to be taken into account for determining the usefulness in metaphysical engineering. Roughly a gram per ton extracted is considered to be capable of retaining magic to a practical degree, with evolving techniques gaining more spell efficiency and raising that particular threshold.
Once gems of the appropriate characteristics are selected the gem must be cut in order to make the optimal use of magical dispersion and refractivity, a process that is generally not compatible with commercial jewelry lapidary and gemcutting techniques and instead require to actively circulate magic through a gem in order to determine the optimal shape, a time consuming and error prone artisanal procedure that by necessity requires a mage cutter or a mage assistant to map the gem and has a high failure rate which partly accounts for the disproportionate high price of even the most simple magical tools.
Once cut the gem is fitted into the Computation Orb as it magic processing core, in the center of the gear train and substituting the oscillator in conventional clockwork, with gold, silver and selenium alloys being the materials of choice. As there are no cores of an standard size and shape the orbs have a generous clearance which with the right design allows to use different gems with similar coefficients of magical retention, but different refraction and dispersion profiles to get a comparable (although somewhat nuanced towards specific types of spells) performance in an Orb.
Once a crystalline or precious stone of the appropriate qualities has been properly cut and fitted to the clockwork a spell matrix is imprinted on the gem by a mage using a predefined pattern by emitting magic through a set of gold plates with engraved magic circles. The matrix is a series of magical pathways and patterns, some fixed and some that the user can alter, based on Lovelace's studies, it receives, accumulates and shapes the raw magical power channeled from the mage into an output capable of affecting the physical world, commonly known as a spell.
In addition gems tangentially connected to the core can be used to either expedite input or further shape output in defined ways without affecting the nature of the spells, and therefore not being considered an orb's core. The most common of these are 'Remembrance' jewels, gemstones from organic sources such as amber, pearl or jet which can record sounds, images or other forms of processed information by copying the sensory data from the mage, quite literally allowing to see through his eyes, hear through his ears and read his thoughts.
As for the output, requirements are as simple or as complex as the purpose of the spell. In most cases the spell travels from the clockwork mechanism, to the outer casing to the mage's body. In other cases specialized tools are required to direct the spell, these can be as varied as ritualistic magic circles, athames (used mostly as surgical tools by mage doctors), wands that have a direct, mechanical control of the output of spells and are often designed for high precision work (for example gem cutting ironically enough). For illusions spells most orbs incorporate a stained glass window in the shape of a gem in the frontal section of the computation orb. Despite its appearance, its characteristics are imbued by using metallic stains such as copper or silver in otherwise thick glass and are considered part of magical metallurgy studies rather than gemology
When Ada Lovelace expanded Babagge theoretical work on the Albionese Crown Sovereign Orb she was the first to point out the relationship between the Platinum-Selenium alloy of the body, and the mounted clusters of emeralds, rubies and sapphires surrounded by rose-cut diamonds, and single rows of pearls. Her examination and mapping of the cross on the top and the way magical energy interacted with the rose-cut diamonds and the sapphire and emerald on opposite sides of the center and with the pearls at the angles and at the end of each arm is considered the start of the mechanical magic revolution as well as the first scientifically written spell matrix.
From that moment forward an arm race started to analyze the remaining artifacts in the different national treasuries with diverse amounts of success. Artifacts such as the Gallian Tencendur which was emulated to create a short lived flying mechanical horse superseded by the practical combination of Levitation and Flow spells, while the fusian Yata no Kagami became the basis of the modern magic detection technology.
While there are still many mysteries to uncover in these artifacts two of the most understood factors are the metallurgy present in most of the artifacts of which there's a high correlation between magical and electric conductivity, although one that grows in complexity with the use of alloys; and the gemology, with a far more complex relationship with magical powers.
Magic absorption and retention, magic refractivity and dispersion, magically conductive inclusions and fractures are some of the factors that need to be taken into account for determining the usefulness in metaphysical engineering. Roughly a gram per ton extracted is considered to be capable of retaining magic to a practical degree, with evolving techniques gaining more spell efficiency and raising that particular threshold.
Once gems of the appropriate characteristics are selected the gem must be cut in order to make the optimal use of magical dispersion and refractivity, a process that is generally not compatible with commercial jewelry lapidary and gemcutting techniques and instead require to actively circulate magic through a gem in order to determine the optimal shape, a time consuming and error prone artisanal procedure that by necessity requires a mage cutter or a mage assistant to map the gem and has a high failure rate which partly accounts for the disproportionate high price of even the most simple magical tools.
Once cut the gem is fitted into the Computation Orb as it magic processing core, in the center of the gear train and substituting the oscillator in conventional clockwork, with gold, silver and selenium alloys being the materials of choice. As there are no cores of an standard size and shape the orbs have a generous clearance which with the right design allows to use different gems with similar coefficients of magical retention, but different refraction and dispersion profiles to get a comparable (although somewhat nuanced towards specific types of spells) performance in an Orb.
Once a crystalline or precious stone of the appropriate qualities has been properly cut and fitted to the clockwork a spell matrix is imprinted on the gem by a mage using a predefined pattern by emitting magic through a set of gold plates with engraved magic circles. The matrix is a series of magical pathways and patterns, some fixed and some that the user can alter, based on Lovelace's studies, it receives, accumulates and shapes the raw magical power channeled from the mage into an output capable of affecting the physical world, commonly known as a spell.
In addition gems tangentially connected to the core can be used to either expedite input or further shape output in defined ways without affecting the nature of the spells, and therefore not being considered an orb's core. The most common of these are 'Remembrance' jewels, gemstones from organic sources such as amber, pearl or jet which can record sounds, images or other forms of processed information by copying the sensory data from the mage, quite literally allowing to see through his eyes, hear through his ears and read his thoughts.
As for the output, requirements are as simple or as complex as the purpose of the spell. In most cases the spell travels from the clockwork mechanism, to the outer casing to the mage's body. In other cases specialized tools are required to direct the spell, these can be as varied as ritualistic magic circles, athames (used mostly as surgical tools by mage doctors), wands that have a direct, mechanical control of the output of spells and are often designed for high precision work (for example gem cutting ironically enough). For illusions spells most orbs incorporate a stained glass window in the shape of a gem in the frontal section of the computation orb. Despite its appearance, its characteristics are imbued by using metallic stains such as copper or silver in otherwise thick glass and are considered part of magical metallurgy studies rather than gemology
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Chapter 3.2
BF110C4
Not too sore, are you?
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Before the start of the Neuroi War few europeans could differentiate between Ming and Fuso, as far as the Western World was concerned asians were asians and the locals differences were little more than trivia. That attitude had dramatically improved when the eastern country send army and navy reinforcements to the besieged karslanders, gallian and russ, few in number but with top of the line equipment and elite personnel willing to make sacrifices matching those of the defenders and sometimes sounding almost eager to charge to certain death.
Whenever one of the fusian carriers came to the continent, the wing would left behind a large detachment to support navy's aerial witches as well as the local troops. Soon Aichi D3A dive bombers were providing extremely accurate close air support, while the Mitsubishi A6M gained a fearsome reputation for its maneuverability in the hand of expert fighter pilots. However the Nakajima B5N couldn't acquire a similar reputation for itself.
To be fair, it wasn't for a fault of the crew or plane itself, in its primary job as a torpedo bomber the plane had been considered fast and with an excellent range back when it arrived to Europe, especially compared to the Albionese Albacore biplane that was the standard of the time for torpedo bombers in Europe. But after several months waiting for the Neuroi to conduct any sort of naval activity it became painfully obvious that the monsters didn't emulate any kind of waterborne animal or technology, in fact there were theories that they disliked water in general even if not to the point of impeding operations on rough weather, and the Type 91 torpedoes were going to be left unused for the entirety of the conflict.
"For the glory of the St Malo Air Group and its kanjo kōgeki-ki squadron!" Commander Fuchida shouted while standing on a chair inside Cherbourg's Officers Bar, in english to better brag to the other patrons.
"Kanpai!"
Of course that wasn't enough for the crews to give up and they had instead using the planes for low altitude level bombing during the desperate retreats of The Fall with variable results which had been progressively deteriorating as the neuroi evolved and the plane grew older and closer to obsolescence to the point that their own allies had relegated the plane from first line duties and press it as a fast transport of personnel and light weight equipment.
The negative effect on the crew's morale to be gradually sidelined to mop up operations inside their own lines and frequently diverted from combat ops to act as a taxi for bigwigs while the dive bomber squadrons were on the vanguard of the liberation army was easy to imagine. And yet they dedicated part of their limited time and resources to keep up to date their torpedo training.
But a week ago the squadron had been given notice to prepare their carrier attack aircraft for a torpedo demonstration in front of the recently liberated port of Cherbourg, one in which their fellow dive bomber comrades were conspicuously missing.
In the port the squadron had faced in a short and rushed competition albionese Albacores and Swordfishes which bizarrely still served alongside their replacement, a handful of liberion TBF Devastators and their substitute, the TBM Avenger, by far the most modern plane of their kind in Europe. Although their detachment was the smallest with only ten well-used B5N2 they most definitely had the best showing of all units present.
"So Kai, who do you think were those karslanders?" He liked drinking with his fellow lieutenant Kai Nara, he never gave him any grief about his previous job as an isakaya waiter and just like him the man was moderate when it came to beer, preferring quality over quantity and a pleasant conversation over a ruckus.
"I can tell you who weren't, they weren't officers for the Luftwaffe. Not unless they're suddenly interested in old birds."
There had been attempts to modernize the kankō, B5N2 and B5N3 variants had modestly improved their power by using the engines of previous iterations of the now retired Zero and the yet to arrive B6N sacrificed some performance in order to add self-sealing tanks amongst other improvements to the wings and frame, but the Navy was under pressure by both the League's military command and the Fuso Army to suspend production of dedicated torpedo bombers entirely and focus on the roles that had proven effective against the neuroi.
One of the many mysteries of the assignment was who would bother with torpedo bombers in the current war, much less with a handful of near obsolete models in this day and age when AA guns were bolted even to civilian ships.
"Maybe is not for New Karsland? The Mayans must be wanting to pick a fight with the Amazonians and the karslanders might want to help with something cheap they can put down with ease if their allies grow too insolent."
"Well, if they wanted cheap they really showing it, those fracks and tall hats must have been hand me downs from their grandparents."
"You have been in Gallia too long if you're criticizing clothes, plus their suits didn't looked that old, maybe fashion in South America is a decade or two behind."
"Ha, and who sounds like a master of the haute couture now?" Kai said as he comically stressed the words in a false gallian accent.
The two of them were drinking some of the local beer while listening to a record from the Luminous Witches, the military band was well known for their sincere efforts to include songs for the many members of the League, from Rus lullabies to a koto ensemble. That plus the breathtaking aerial magical show made them very popular with the expeditionary forces in Europe even before the Gallia's Liberation Concert was transmitted to every radio in every frequency of the world.
This year had already received its share of mixed news, with the Akagi being sunk in the mission that ended in the destruction of the gallian neuroi nest by the hands of the samurai Lieutenant Commander Sakamoto and her apprentice Miyafumi. The fact that the Akagi survivors refused to tell anything about the battle while sincerely praising the 501º Wing for their determination had picked his curiosity quite a few times.
Not that he was asking out loud, he didn't want to risk getting a dozen lashes in the middle of the briefing room for illegally enquiring in classified matters like flight sergeant Konoe did when he insisted to the survivors one time too many.
Back on the other side of the bar a member of the famous Damnbusters was telling about Europe's famous last torpedo strike with practiced ease.
"So, the trick was to arrive before our witch cover. The hurricane girls we paradropped from the Beauforts weren't able to clear the way AND cover for us so they acted as bait for the aerial neuroi while we hoped their ground units weren't going to be behind the damn in force and instead pointed towards the valley. We were able to see the remains of the Junkers from the previous missions, poor lads, cut into ribbons by the neuroi flak, but by Boudicca the recon teams were right and the monsters kept their distance from the water…"
Both the Albacore and the Swordfish squadrons performed well enough during the demonstration, although the dated biplane configuration prevented them from reaching proper combat speeds, not to mention how little confidence canvas wings gave in nowadays.
That said everyone was in high spirits, there was something about instead of braving fire in a role inadequate for their machines or acting as taxi drivers doing the job they were trained to do before the war without having to worry about killing or being killed that made things better.
Then suddenly a new group entered the establishment, the officers of the liberion Avenger group. They were gloomy to a man, not that he blamed them, the magnitude of the disaster during the demonstration was hard to describe.
Out of 20 torpedoes used by both the Devastators and the Avengers only seven actually reached its target and detonated. The rest sank, dove under the wreck or gave a turn when supposed to go straight, and three of them hit the ship and bounced without blowing up.
The leader of the group must have been a sensible person, she went to the farthest table of the bar, on the opposite side of the loudest patrons, incidentally bringing them close to his own table.
Or maybe she didn't want to hear anyone as she roasted her subordinates in an open fire. He couldn't see what was going on but the gestures made him think they wanted to murder someone, and since they weren't glaring to anyone in the bar in particular, probably the person guilty of the torpedo storage in Europe, barely five years of war and virtually the entire stock was useless.
The TBF Avenger was simply a beast, a huge engine almost twice as powerful as his own kankō pushed forward more than seven tons of plane plus its torpedo inside a bomb bay, and did it faster and longer than the B5N3s. It served as a radar picket and night fighter guide for the liberion carriers, as well as a source of additional bomb tonnage whenever a carrier needed to flatten somewhere. And yet apparently the torpedo runs were done at barely 150 knots on planes that could normally give 240 knots, maybe to not stress severely deteriorated fishes?
Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of ensign Nakamura, a serial bar brawler, going towards the liberion's officers. He threw the troublemaker a glare and he wisely he backed down, the rumors about his temper were often exaggerated, but that made them occasionally useful.
He was about to relax and light a cigarette when screams erupted in english. One of the junior liberion officers was tackling a robust gallian sailor.
"Let's go Kai. Help me get Shinra out before he joins the brawl." As soon as he got up he fell the disturbingly familiar feeling of a beer bottle being smashed on the back of his head and turned.
One of the albionese bombermen held the broken glass in his hand, a smug expression on his face that make him see red, unconsciously breaking in half the cigarette in his hands.
"You know there's a chance you could have killed me with that stunt!?" The man threw a punch towards him that was easily caught.
"So if you tried to kill me then you can't complain I kill you, can you?!" The belligerent man gulped as he tried to remove his arm from the vice trapping him, falling back on his arse when suddenly left go, not that he was out of danger yet.
Now with his anger out of control he lifted the entire table with his hands, a feat usually only done by particularly strong witches, and even then only when openly manifesting magic.
Everyone forgot about the brawl in an instant and worried only about their immediate survival as flight lieutenant Shizuo Heiwajima charged with the strength of a hurricane and roughly the same target discrimination.
Whenever one of the fusian carriers came to the continent, the wing would left behind a large detachment to support navy's aerial witches as well as the local troops. Soon Aichi D3A dive bombers were providing extremely accurate close air support, while the Mitsubishi A6M gained a fearsome reputation for its maneuverability in the hand of expert fighter pilots. However the Nakajima B5N couldn't acquire a similar reputation for itself.
To be fair, it wasn't for a fault of the crew or plane itself, in its primary job as a torpedo bomber the plane had been considered fast and with an excellent range back when it arrived to Europe, especially compared to the Albionese Albacore biplane that was the standard of the time for torpedo bombers in Europe. But after several months waiting for the Neuroi to conduct any sort of naval activity it became painfully obvious that the monsters didn't emulate any kind of waterborne animal or technology, in fact there were theories that they disliked water in general even if not to the point of impeding operations on rough weather, and the Type 91 torpedoes were going to be left unused for the entirety of the conflict.
"For the glory of the St Malo Air Group and its kanjo kōgeki-ki squadron!" Commander Fuchida shouted while standing on a chair inside Cherbourg's Officers Bar, in english to better brag to the other patrons.
"Kanpai!"
Of course that wasn't enough for the crews to give up and they had instead using the planes for low altitude level bombing during the desperate retreats of The Fall with variable results which had been progressively deteriorating as the neuroi evolved and the plane grew older and closer to obsolescence to the point that their own allies had relegated the plane from first line duties and press it as a fast transport of personnel and light weight equipment.
The negative effect on the crew's morale to be gradually sidelined to mop up operations inside their own lines and frequently diverted from combat ops to act as a taxi for bigwigs while the dive bomber squadrons were on the vanguard of the liberation army was easy to imagine. And yet they dedicated part of their limited time and resources to keep up to date their torpedo training.
But a week ago the squadron had been given notice to prepare their carrier attack aircraft for a torpedo demonstration in front of the recently liberated port of Cherbourg, one in which their fellow dive bomber comrades were conspicuously missing.
In the port the squadron had faced in a short and rushed competition albionese Albacores and Swordfishes which bizarrely still served alongside their replacement, a handful of liberion TBF Devastators and their substitute, the TBM Avenger, by far the most modern plane of their kind in Europe. Although their detachment was the smallest with only ten well-used B5N2 they most definitely had the best showing of all units present.
"So Kai, who do you think were those karslanders?" He liked drinking with his fellow lieutenant Kai Nara, he never gave him any grief about his previous job as an isakaya waiter and just like him the man was moderate when it came to beer, preferring quality over quantity and a pleasant conversation over a ruckus.
"I can tell you who weren't, they weren't officers for the Luftwaffe. Not unless they're suddenly interested in old birds."
There had been attempts to modernize the kankō, B5N2 and B5N3 variants had modestly improved their power by using the engines of previous iterations of the now retired Zero and the yet to arrive B6N sacrificed some performance in order to add self-sealing tanks amongst other improvements to the wings and frame, but the Navy was under pressure by both the League's military command and the Fuso Army to suspend production of dedicated torpedo bombers entirely and focus on the roles that had proven effective against the neuroi.
One of the many mysteries of the assignment was who would bother with torpedo bombers in the current war, much less with a handful of near obsolete models in this day and age when AA guns were bolted even to civilian ships.
"Maybe is not for New Karsland? The Mayans must be wanting to pick a fight with the Amazonians and the karslanders might want to help with something cheap they can put down with ease if their allies grow too insolent."
"Well, if they wanted cheap they really showing it, those fracks and tall hats must have been hand me downs from their grandparents."
"You have been in Gallia too long if you're criticizing clothes, plus their suits didn't looked that old, maybe fashion in South America is a decade or two behind."
"Ha, and who sounds like a master of the haute couture now?" Kai said as he comically stressed the words in a false gallian accent.
The two of them were drinking some of the local beer while listening to a record from the Luminous Witches, the military band was well known for their sincere efforts to include songs for the many members of the League, from Rus lullabies to a koto ensemble. That plus the breathtaking aerial magical show made them very popular with the expeditionary forces in Europe even before the Gallia's Liberation Concert was transmitted to every radio in every frequency of the world.
This year had already received its share of mixed news, with the Akagi being sunk in the mission that ended in the destruction of the gallian neuroi nest by the hands of the samurai Lieutenant Commander Sakamoto and her apprentice Miyafumi. The fact that the Akagi survivors refused to tell anything about the battle while sincerely praising the 501º Wing for their determination had picked his curiosity quite a few times.
Not that he was asking out loud, he didn't want to risk getting a dozen lashes in the middle of the briefing room for illegally enquiring in classified matters like flight sergeant Konoe did when he insisted to the survivors one time too many.
Back on the other side of the bar a member of the famous Damnbusters was telling about Europe's famous last torpedo strike with practiced ease.
"So, the trick was to arrive before our witch cover. The hurricane girls we paradropped from the Beauforts weren't able to clear the way AND cover for us so they acted as bait for the aerial neuroi while we hoped their ground units weren't going to be behind the damn in force and instead pointed towards the valley. We were able to see the remains of the Junkers from the previous missions, poor lads, cut into ribbons by the neuroi flak, but by Boudicca the recon teams were right and the monsters kept their distance from the water…"
Both the Albacore and the Swordfish squadrons performed well enough during the demonstration, although the dated biplane configuration prevented them from reaching proper combat speeds, not to mention how little confidence canvas wings gave in nowadays.
That said everyone was in high spirits, there was something about instead of braving fire in a role inadequate for their machines or acting as taxi drivers doing the job they were trained to do before the war without having to worry about killing or being killed that made things better.
Then suddenly a new group entered the establishment, the officers of the liberion Avenger group. They were gloomy to a man, not that he blamed them, the magnitude of the disaster during the demonstration was hard to describe.
Out of 20 torpedoes used by both the Devastators and the Avengers only seven actually reached its target and detonated. The rest sank, dove under the wreck or gave a turn when supposed to go straight, and three of them hit the ship and bounced without blowing up.
The leader of the group must have been a sensible person, she went to the farthest table of the bar, on the opposite side of the loudest patrons, incidentally bringing them close to his own table.
Or maybe she didn't want to hear anyone as she roasted her subordinates in an open fire. He couldn't see what was going on but the gestures made him think they wanted to murder someone, and since they weren't glaring to anyone in the bar in particular, probably the person guilty of the torpedo storage in Europe, barely five years of war and virtually the entire stock was useless.
The TBF Avenger was simply a beast, a huge engine almost twice as powerful as his own kankō pushed forward more than seven tons of plane plus its torpedo inside a bomb bay, and did it faster and longer than the B5N3s. It served as a radar picket and night fighter guide for the liberion carriers, as well as a source of additional bomb tonnage whenever a carrier needed to flatten somewhere. And yet apparently the torpedo runs were done at barely 150 knots on planes that could normally give 240 knots, maybe to not stress severely deteriorated fishes?
Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of ensign Nakamura, a serial bar brawler, going towards the liberion's officers. He threw the troublemaker a glare and he wisely he backed down, the rumors about his temper were often exaggerated, but that made them occasionally useful.
He was about to relax and light a cigarette when screams erupted in english. One of the junior liberion officers was tackling a robust gallian sailor.
"Let's go Kai. Help me get Shinra out before he joins the brawl." As soon as he got up he fell the disturbingly familiar feeling of a beer bottle being smashed on the back of his head and turned.
One of the albionese bombermen held the broken glass in his hand, a smug expression on his face that make him see red, unconsciously breaking in half the cigarette in his hands.
"You know there's a chance you could have killed me with that stunt!?" The man threw a punch towards him that was easily caught.
"So if you tried to kill me then you can't complain I kill you, can you?!" The belligerent man gulped as he tried to remove his arm from the vice trapping him, falling back on his arse when suddenly left go, not that he was out of danger yet.
Now with his anger out of control he lifted the entire table with his hands, a feat usually only done by particularly strong witches, and even then only when openly manifesting magic.
Everyone forgot about the brawl in an instant and worried only about their immediate survival as flight lieutenant Shizuo Heiwajima charged with the strength of a hurricane and roughly the same target discrimination.
Chapter 3.3
BF110C4
Not too sore, are you?
- Joined
- Mar 12, 2014
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Commandant Marguerite Bientot was tired. Not the kind of tiredness that came after a good, vigorous session of lovemaking, an energetic training course or even brutal combat.
It was like a weight on her neck, dragging her down after every wrecked building, burned vehicle and small cenotaph marking a mass grave in the road.
She arrived to the Consulate of Albion in Paris, formally its embassy before the seat of the government had to be moved to Tolouse. After announcing her presence to the guard outside she was swiftly taken to a small meeting room and after less than five minutes the people she came to see crossed the door.
Countess Felicia Louisa Gresley was a name only those well versed in the hierarchy of the Celtic Covens could recognize, her work over the last sixty seven years could only be described as subtle, her guidance of rising stars amongst witches and the jobs assigned by the Crown being characterized by both discretion and gentleness.
Contrary to Dame Gresley there were very few who wouldn't immediately recognize Charles Lindbergh, an aviation legend and steadfast supporter of witches after one with the innate magic of tracking had saved his son from a kidnapper. As a colonel in the Army Air Corps he was contributing to the development of the Striker non-magical elements, optimizing fuel consumption during cruise speeds, greatly increasing practical endurance and operational range.
It was mesmerizing and a little intimidating to have a private meeting with both of them, in particular since this meeting posed a conflict between her oaths as an officer and those made to Hecate when she started learning The Craft under the watchful eye of her grandmother.
After briefly, and unnecessarily introducing themselves, Madame Gresley commented. "Thank you for coming Miss Bientot, I greatly appreciate you braving the trip to Paris."
"Don't worry madame, the security on the roads have greatly improved since the Liberation and general Leclerc mop-up operations. So far the greatest problem I suffered was the poor state of the roads due to the amount of trucks supporting the scourge."
"Indeed, is refreshing to think that traffic jams, potholes and ongoing construction are a headache instead of a nightmare. During Dunkirk after I ditched my plane I thought that I would die in the road to the beaches." The man who became famous for crossing the Atlantic laughed at the close call, however a contemplative look afterwards did tell her that it had been far closer than he wanted to think about.
She herself had been giving cover during the evacuation, mostly supporting the 150th Infantry Regiment until its destruction, barely escaping on foot in the middle of the night alongside a handful of survivors. "What I wouldn't give for the Neuroi to suffer a tenth of the hardships we suffered during the retreat."
"Well have to make due with simply blowing each and every one of them now that they can't conjure ten more from thin air." Lindbergh added. "But that will be easier with the new toys that our friends from the other side of the mirror, don't you think so? And by the way, nice piece of engineering you did to make their magical clocks work, I heard that Skunk Works is already modding an aether filter based on it."
"It was only a simple brewing purification circle, anyone could have done it."
"Well, you did found a solution the same day you discovered the problem and so far no one got a better idea so just accept the compliment and move on."
"Thanks." She steeled herself, the time for small talk was over. "Having seen it in operation I can say that the Computational Orb is truly remarkable, it's not only its size compared to a striker, or even that it uses a fraction of the magic pressure to operate. It got a repertoire of attack, barrier and utility spells normally only found as innate magic, that by itself is worth the technology even if we don't get a single additional witch."
"The ability to standardize spells will change the way witches are organized and trained. Witches with a particular innate magic are peddled by squadrons as if they were quidditch cards regardless of actual fighting skills to fill a hole in formations, usually left when the previous witch with a similar innate magic had to retire. Hell, statistically witches with too useful abilities retire earlier out of overuse of their magics at their early twenties."
"It's true, the young women who learn to rely too much on their magic gifts by the time they reach their twilight find harder than anyone to not use them when their magic starts dwindling, in particular since doing do might cost them their life. As such anything that prevents that is welcome." Madam agreed with a nostalgic sight before continuing with a far sterner voice.
"However the fact is that the governments that make the League of Nations are certainly more interested in the capability to perform magic without depending on the covens. Belgica still treats their witches as a property of the state, in Rus when Stalin tried the same the Red Guard killed him and elevated Trostky and they're not the worst offenders, history has plenty of examples of what happens when a government decides that a particular form of magic is no longer useful, or a liability…"
"Gaul's druids under roman occupation. It took five generations, but Julius Caesar's command to eradicate them was accomplished." She said as reality started to hit with the strength of a dive bomber.
"The Aztecs, not that didn't have it coming to them with their over enthusiasm for human sacrifices. Still the Conquistadors went too far."
"Or the eradication of Australis aboriginal dreamwalkers, the Crown's own shame. Right now witches are at their strongest political and military influence since ancient times but at the same time envy and resentment is higher than ever. The Warlock Program is all the evidence we need of it."
"I heard some rumors about it, very disturbing ones of artificial witches made with neuroi skins and remains of the Strike Witches. I'm absolutely sure those are false, but what happened?"
"Them experimenting with witches was thankfully false, the neuroi skin not so much although is not something that we can discuss with someone not cleared to know. But the relevant part is that Air Marshal Trevor Maloney is well known to hate witches, he likes to rant in parties even, and to finance his little toy…" The words were dripping with disdain. "…he embezzled money and materials from the 501º JSW and multiple albionese squadrons. The only reason I was briefed on this is because the League of Nations need to audit the entire RAF witches units and they can't depend on the locals to do so."
"Maloney couldn't appropriate so many resources on his authority alone, not with a dozen different squadrons being able to only partially deploy their Strikers and operating with two thirds of their support complements, which means that a significant amount of the officers corps cannot be considered reliable anymore, including parties in high command. Mayor general Doolittle is in charge of supervising the affected units as part of a new Joint Command to keep appearances while rear admiral Tanaka will be in charge of the investigation, while we… cleanse our command structure of Maloney's collaborators, something that as a nation will cost us for years to come, a cost that ultimately will be measured in blood, our blood."
At that point the part of her that dealt with uniform's politics reached an inevitable conclusion. "Wait, news said that the members of the Strike Witches were send to their homelands to rest and pass the lessons of the destruction of the hive to the rest of the Liberation Army, but I know that Dame Perrine Clostermann is on a leave of absence on her territory organizing relief efforts. I thought it was because she is young and inexperienced compared to the rest of the wing but if the situation is this bad…"
"The 501º is temporarily disbanded, their members are being recalled to get a debrief on either the Warlock incident, the destruction of the gallian hive or to testify on Maloney's court martial. Commander Minna has already made clear she will reform the unit, but a plan borne of bigotry just marred the greatest victory of mankind against the Neuroi."
"And now the League has an alternative to witches that gives access to potential mages outside the witch community and can be restricted by controlling the distribution of the orbs…" She said with growing horror as she digested the true magnitude of the impact of the orbs.
"First of all calm down. This is not the first or the last time the world changes and witches are forced to adapt. And I consider this situation as fortunate myself. We are getting a new tool for our sisters and daughters fighting against the Neuroi, just at a time were they are once again evolving in new and terrible forms. So instead of despairing we should focus in how to turn this to our benefit."
"Yes, madame." It still took a moment to process the words and rally herself, but she had indeed faced worst. "So what do we need to do?"
"The Liberion have been pushing for control of the portal, but the 501º found it shortly after their victory, in fact the destruction of the hive might have been the catharsis for its creation. Is part of the nature of the JSW to prevent any kind of cover-up or clandestine negotiations when one is involved, and Commander Minna dutifully filled her report not only to the Karsland's government but also to the LNAF command so everyone from Liberion to Fuso knows and wants a stake on the Orbs, which means research and deployment will be heavily monitored. I suspect that soon most of the personnel involved will receive detailed instructions to prevent the other nations to acquire information, scans or schematics, or for that matter for the research to be moved to a foreign lab. That will give us a window of opportunity to plan the appropriate strategy, not only between us but to coordinate a response with the joint covens."
"I think the first think we need is to estimate how much time we got before the orb conscription can be implemented. What we can do will be determined on how much time we have to do it. I know that G.E. is preparing the filters and those will take at least two weeks but once the design is casted the rest of the orders will be as fast to make as a carburetor."
She contributed her own knowledge to the equation. "Training on the orb for untrained recruits requires roughly one year, most of it for magic training and conditioning which can be compressed for mages with larger than average reserves. He mentions that in those cases it can take up to four months to learn the basics properly plus the time required to learn tactical skills and integration with larger formations, but that at least once someone successfully did a full advanced combat training and orb familiarization course of already graduated mages in two months. We have yet to develop a training plan for witches, but our comparatively large pool of magic power will certainly help with so… let's say that even if we get the orbs and experienced trainers today and start training recruits tomorrow it would take half a year to get a non-witch to become combat deployable in ideal conditions, and a witch no less than three months for direct usage, no idea yet of how long if we try to combine orbs and strikers."
"From the Mages side there is a bottleneck in the orbs production, mines in Liberion, Africa and Asia had been contacted to provide uncut jewels in behest of the Empire. Since its to their benefit to show complete resource independence regarding their magic tools I expect them to have severe limitations regarding their raw resources and are using our own to compensate."
"They also need to find proper researchers and trainers, which are always in short supply in the middle of a war and even with substantial payments measured in squadrons of planes they will be reluctant to release them to the detriment of their own army readiness. That by necessity will limit the size of the amount of mages they can graduate per class and the amount of integration between our two magic systems."
"Commandant, do you have an idea which is the current status of the Empire regarding manpower?"
"Two days ago I was eating dinner with Ilhen, and he told me a funny story about their volunteer laws, apparently those are far more open ended than ours, we got a hard limit of eleven years old volunteers for Second and First Class recruits, while the Empire's volunteers don't have a minimum age requirement or for that matter any other requirements at all."
"Captain Schwarzkopf tells me that one of his former subordinates escaped from her orphanage at the ripe old age of seven to join. Since the law allows for any and all mages to volunteer on their own without discrimination regarding age, gender or education there was literally no recourse for the recruitment office to turn her down, so instead they sent her to the mage officer course with instructions not to mistreat her but also not to give her preferential treatment, tutoring or physical dispensations of any kind."
"Now that's a set of contrarian directives." Dame Gresley said with a raised eyebrow.
"As they explained to Ihlen they didn't want to babysit a little girl, but neither they wanted to sour her to military service. After she flunked they were supposed to have a young officer adopt her and have her volunteer again at a more reasonable age. No one expected the girl to be top of her class in everything but P.E. and earn an early deployment post on merit alone. Recently she graduated from their War College twelfth in her year, got knighted for it."
"Oh ho ho, another person who learns that underestimating a young witch must be done at their own peril."
"The captain is tight lipped on actual information about their war, but after that anecdote the conversation naturally migrated towards the mobilization, I gave some of the numbers of our own and he did the same. Since mobilization recalls are done by newspapers and radiophonic messages no one bothers to hide the age groups called to arms. It won't give solid numbers but they help us get a decent impression of how hard pressed they are."
"Pretty smart…" Lindbergh said.
"Their mage mobilization is roughly similar to ours, the Chantiers de la Jeunesse I mean, for their B and A class mages start at fourteen. The main difference is that while our witches serve until age 21 or discharge for magical deficiency their compulsory service in peacetime is for twelve years after graduating from training before being allowed in the reserves and afterwards the mages must be registered to use magic in the civilian market."
"Allowed to retire on their late twenties at the very least? That's nearly a decade more than a witch gets, and the registry indicates that the remain strong enough afterwards. That longevity in addition to the ability to recruit males must give them a huge recruitment pool compared to witches."
"One that could be seen as either as wide as the ocean or as deep as a puddle. According to their own instruments one of our Third Class recruits is roughly equivalent to one of their A-class while their A-class is barely two and a half more likely to occur than our First Class witches. If their orbs weren't so efficient they would barely have a wing in total." In some ways that fact gave some perspective on the otherwise lackluster aerial performance of their orbs, their best mages, captain Schwarzkopf included, could barely reach the magic power of an average witch.
"This supports their own information on mage demographics, twelve years of compulsory service hinds to a permanent system rather than our own or the liberion points, not to mention the posterior registry which sounds similar to Stalin's proposed methods, at least the public ones before the Red Guard discovered his real intentions. Do you have any information on the rest of their forces? Traditionally the use of levies is a better indicator of the strategic situation."
"Peacetime they were supposed to be conscripted age twenty for two years of compulsory service, in a million strong army. They didn't mobilize at all when they at war with Legadonia, a country that is quite literally two thirds of Baltland, but they did after… after Gallia attacked by surprise without declaring war. As a precautionary move they declared universal conscription ages seventeen and up to forty-five for the army and critical industries but the captain is relieved that so far they are kept busy repairing roads and carrying boxes."
"Which means they probably only called or recalled part of their manpower and are taking their time to train them before deploying. Not desperate yet."
"And if they're not desperate they will try to hold the orbs in order to get a better deal. Not to mention that giving critical information about how to build them on our own is only going to happen if their war becomes an existential threat and they think we have a definitive way for it to resolve on their favor. And for all our advancements I don't think we have anything so terrifying in the worlds combined arsenals, not even with twenty years of refinements in war gasses."
"One problem is going to be Ossman Colonel der Maur has been giving Captain Ugar access to civilian texts of the Great War for them to understand how bad things are going to get if the trench warfare keeps going, he also issued very specific instructions of what they can be told in terms of tactics or historical information. Dangling the solutions reached through three years of battle plus dozens of large scale war games."
"I wish I was naive enough to hope that the lesson they learn is to start looking for peace. Margie, thankfully you weren't born yet, but sometimes the Great War felt darker than even this one. The Neuroi have been murdering us but at least humanity has rallied against them, compared to that the battles in gallian soil saw the worst of mankind."
"Just before the war I was fourteen and had just received my letter of acceptance to Saint Cyr my father took me to our country house in Bordeaux to spend the weekend, just the two of us hunting boar and then smoking it in a hut. He took the time to tell me of his experiences in the Great War, first it was light fare, his training dome of the skirmishes he had with the chasseurs on Africa against the Karsland's colonial garrisons. But then manpower grew scarce in the Republic, he had his horse taken from him, became the second in command of a company of chasseurs a pied and was transferred to the frontlines in Europe just in time for the offensive in Champagne, took a few trenches, survived being gassed out of those trenches, and then once more taking them back. By the end he recovered some kilometers of our land at the cost of so many loses that his company was disbanded and he had to take command of the consolidated platoon that was left, and before his unit was reorganized to go after the next target morale finally collapsed and the poilu rebelled."
"Dad's platoon hadn't suffered as much as the local divisions, so they kept discipline, and while he wasn't one of the unfortunate officers to organize a firing squad, he did set up machine guns behind one of the mutinying companies and forced them to disarm."
"And then the Neuroi came…" Said Lindbergh, as a staunch pacifist he was well aware of the timeline.
"And then the Neuroi came." Dame Gresley agreed. "I was part of the International Red Cross back then and the eruption of them in Verdun and Ypres took everyone by surprise. Suddenly the breakout both sides had tried for years was accomplished by a neuroi marabunta that neither side could contain without leaving themselves exposed to the enemy army in front of them."
She took one sip from her tea before continuing. "And while the armies were busy glaring each other the Neuroi rampaged at their leisure, devouring people, first in small groups, then entire villages. After three months they send the first aerial incursion through the channel while our navy and air force were blockading Karsland and Dover burned. It took six months before sanity was reasserted and a ceasefire was agreed in order to push the Neuroi off the continent."
The ceasefire agreement came only after in Gallia a series of protests by the civilians threatened to topple the government while at the same time the army became increasingly unreliable with the soldiers in the frontlines growing more frustrated with the rumors of entire cities devoured and even rear echelon units demanding to be send to the aid of the besieged countryside instead of suppressing the population. On the other side of the Channel the King of Albion decided to intervene by publishing an open letter to the Parlament at the same time that the Kaiser, freshly returned to Berlin after being kidnapped by a witch insurrection, forcibly dressed as a peasant and taken to a neuroi infestation in the occupied Nederland, and then after his kidnappers charged at a seemingly endless tide of monsters returning to safety as part of a refugee column send a missive to Helvetia to act as intermediary for a truce. Furthermore the Liberion doughboys who had the duty of cleansing the occupied areas of neuroi (a compromise borne out of the fact that as newcomers the karslanders believed that if there was a betrayal they would be easier to defeat than the battle hardened albionese and gallians) discovered that the widely distributed stories of the karslanders feeding children to the neuroi were false, sparking a controversy that president Woodrow Wilson would use to distance himself from the Entente and broker a treaty that made Karsland return all of the occupied territories in Gallia in exchange of relaxing the Monroe Doctrine, buying (at a discount) the albionese Falkland Islands as well as Pewenche territories and performing a joint investment in south american territories that would be developed into Neukarsland after the continental evacuation of the homeland.
"I think that I speak for everyone in my generation that I don't want to emulate anyone from the Great War, not the karslanders who invaded my country, not the gallian officers who decided to sacrifice our people rather than give up a few kilometers of bombed out territory, not junior officers like my father who had to threaten at gunpoint the poor men who refused to die in vain, and most certainly not like bastards like Gamelin and Petain, who out of spite over decades old humiliations delayed for months the deployment of the gallian armies when Wolf appeared over Berlin, allowing it to grow more powerful until it spawned motherships all over Europe."
"We are not going to create delays for the Orb project, too many lives depend on its success. Nor we are going to sabotage any attempt to reverse engineer them. In fact we're going to give our full cooperation to it. The League charter promotes joint research, so we will volunteer our best witches and magical engineers of every nation and we will look at the underlying mechanisms of the orbs and while those in power insist in reproducing the entire mechanism we will focus on understanding how they convert aether into magic, and how to bestow that ability into others, not only witches after the abandonment of their familiar but also men and women with the potential. We will introduce them to magic and offer them to be part of the covens and to fight for the same protections and privileges. Those in power think that we will greedily deny the gifts the gods gave us, we will instead offer them with an open heart."
It was like a weight on her neck, dragging her down after every wrecked building, burned vehicle and small cenotaph marking a mass grave in the road.
She arrived to the Consulate of Albion in Paris, formally its embassy before the seat of the government had to be moved to Tolouse. After announcing her presence to the guard outside she was swiftly taken to a small meeting room and after less than five minutes the people she came to see crossed the door.
Countess Felicia Louisa Gresley was a name only those well versed in the hierarchy of the Celtic Covens could recognize, her work over the last sixty seven years could only be described as subtle, her guidance of rising stars amongst witches and the jobs assigned by the Crown being characterized by both discretion and gentleness.
Contrary to Dame Gresley there were very few who wouldn't immediately recognize Charles Lindbergh, an aviation legend and steadfast supporter of witches after one with the innate magic of tracking had saved his son from a kidnapper. As a colonel in the Army Air Corps he was contributing to the development of the Striker non-magical elements, optimizing fuel consumption during cruise speeds, greatly increasing practical endurance and operational range.
It was mesmerizing and a little intimidating to have a private meeting with both of them, in particular since this meeting posed a conflict between her oaths as an officer and those made to Hecate when she started learning The Craft under the watchful eye of her grandmother.
After briefly, and unnecessarily introducing themselves, Madame Gresley commented. "Thank you for coming Miss Bientot, I greatly appreciate you braving the trip to Paris."
"Don't worry madame, the security on the roads have greatly improved since the Liberation and general Leclerc mop-up operations. So far the greatest problem I suffered was the poor state of the roads due to the amount of trucks supporting the scourge."
"Indeed, is refreshing to think that traffic jams, potholes and ongoing construction are a headache instead of a nightmare. During Dunkirk after I ditched my plane I thought that I would die in the road to the beaches." The man who became famous for crossing the Atlantic laughed at the close call, however a contemplative look afterwards did tell her that it had been far closer than he wanted to think about.
She herself had been giving cover during the evacuation, mostly supporting the 150th Infantry Regiment until its destruction, barely escaping on foot in the middle of the night alongside a handful of survivors. "What I wouldn't give for the Neuroi to suffer a tenth of the hardships we suffered during the retreat."
"Well have to make due with simply blowing each and every one of them now that they can't conjure ten more from thin air." Lindbergh added. "But that will be easier with the new toys that our friends from the other side of the mirror, don't you think so? And by the way, nice piece of engineering you did to make their magical clocks work, I heard that Skunk Works is already modding an aether filter based on it."
"It was only a simple brewing purification circle, anyone could have done it."
"Well, you did found a solution the same day you discovered the problem and so far no one got a better idea so just accept the compliment and move on."
"Thanks." She steeled herself, the time for small talk was over. "Having seen it in operation I can say that the Computational Orb is truly remarkable, it's not only its size compared to a striker, or even that it uses a fraction of the magic pressure to operate. It got a repertoire of attack, barrier and utility spells normally only found as innate magic, that by itself is worth the technology even if we don't get a single additional witch."
"The ability to standardize spells will change the way witches are organized and trained. Witches with a particular innate magic are peddled by squadrons as if they were quidditch cards regardless of actual fighting skills to fill a hole in formations, usually left when the previous witch with a similar innate magic had to retire. Hell, statistically witches with too useful abilities retire earlier out of overuse of their magics at their early twenties."
"It's true, the young women who learn to rely too much on their magic gifts by the time they reach their twilight find harder than anyone to not use them when their magic starts dwindling, in particular since doing do might cost them their life. As such anything that prevents that is welcome." Madam agreed with a nostalgic sight before continuing with a far sterner voice.
"However the fact is that the governments that make the League of Nations are certainly more interested in the capability to perform magic without depending on the covens. Belgica still treats their witches as a property of the state, in Rus when Stalin tried the same the Red Guard killed him and elevated Trostky and they're not the worst offenders, history has plenty of examples of what happens when a government decides that a particular form of magic is no longer useful, or a liability…"
"Gaul's druids under roman occupation. It took five generations, but Julius Caesar's command to eradicate them was accomplished." She said as reality started to hit with the strength of a dive bomber.
"The Aztecs, not that didn't have it coming to them with their over enthusiasm for human sacrifices. Still the Conquistadors went too far."
"Or the eradication of Australis aboriginal dreamwalkers, the Crown's own shame. Right now witches are at their strongest political and military influence since ancient times but at the same time envy and resentment is higher than ever. The Warlock Program is all the evidence we need of it."
"I heard some rumors about it, very disturbing ones of artificial witches made with neuroi skins and remains of the Strike Witches. I'm absolutely sure those are false, but what happened?"
"Them experimenting with witches was thankfully false, the neuroi skin not so much although is not something that we can discuss with someone not cleared to know. But the relevant part is that Air Marshal Trevor Maloney is well known to hate witches, he likes to rant in parties even, and to finance his little toy…" The words were dripping with disdain. "…he embezzled money and materials from the 501º JSW and multiple albionese squadrons. The only reason I was briefed on this is because the League of Nations need to audit the entire RAF witches units and they can't depend on the locals to do so."
"Maloney couldn't appropriate so many resources on his authority alone, not with a dozen different squadrons being able to only partially deploy their Strikers and operating with two thirds of their support complements, which means that a significant amount of the officers corps cannot be considered reliable anymore, including parties in high command. Mayor general Doolittle is in charge of supervising the affected units as part of a new Joint Command to keep appearances while rear admiral Tanaka will be in charge of the investigation, while we… cleanse our command structure of Maloney's collaborators, something that as a nation will cost us for years to come, a cost that ultimately will be measured in blood, our blood."
At that point the part of her that dealt with uniform's politics reached an inevitable conclusion. "Wait, news said that the members of the Strike Witches were send to their homelands to rest and pass the lessons of the destruction of the hive to the rest of the Liberation Army, but I know that Dame Perrine Clostermann is on a leave of absence on her territory organizing relief efforts. I thought it was because she is young and inexperienced compared to the rest of the wing but if the situation is this bad…"
"The 501º is temporarily disbanded, their members are being recalled to get a debrief on either the Warlock incident, the destruction of the gallian hive or to testify on Maloney's court martial. Commander Minna has already made clear she will reform the unit, but a plan borne of bigotry just marred the greatest victory of mankind against the Neuroi."
"And now the League has an alternative to witches that gives access to potential mages outside the witch community and can be restricted by controlling the distribution of the orbs…" She said with growing horror as she digested the true magnitude of the impact of the orbs.
"First of all calm down. This is not the first or the last time the world changes and witches are forced to adapt. And I consider this situation as fortunate myself. We are getting a new tool for our sisters and daughters fighting against the Neuroi, just at a time were they are once again evolving in new and terrible forms. So instead of despairing we should focus in how to turn this to our benefit."
"Yes, madame." It still took a moment to process the words and rally herself, but she had indeed faced worst. "So what do we need to do?"
"The Liberion have been pushing for control of the portal, but the 501º found it shortly after their victory, in fact the destruction of the hive might have been the catharsis for its creation. Is part of the nature of the JSW to prevent any kind of cover-up or clandestine negotiations when one is involved, and Commander Minna dutifully filled her report not only to the Karsland's government but also to the LNAF command so everyone from Liberion to Fuso knows and wants a stake on the Orbs, which means research and deployment will be heavily monitored. I suspect that soon most of the personnel involved will receive detailed instructions to prevent the other nations to acquire information, scans or schematics, or for that matter for the research to be moved to a foreign lab. That will give us a window of opportunity to plan the appropriate strategy, not only between us but to coordinate a response with the joint covens."
"I think the first think we need is to estimate how much time we got before the orb conscription can be implemented. What we can do will be determined on how much time we have to do it. I know that G.E. is preparing the filters and those will take at least two weeks but once the design is casted the rest of the orders will be as fast to make as a carburetor."
She contributed her own knowledge to the equation. "Training on the orb for untrained recruits requires roughly one year, most of it for magic training and conditioning which can be compressed for mages with larger than average reserves. He mentions that in those cases it can take up to four months to learn the basics properly plus the time required to learn tactical skills and integration with larger formations, but that at least once someone successfully did a full advanced combat training and orb familiarization course of already graduated mages in two months. We have yet to develop a training plan for witches, but our comparatively large pool of magic power will certainly help with so… let's say that even if we get the orbs and experienced trainers today and start training recruits tomorrow it would take half a year to get a non-witch to become combat deployable in ideal conditions, and a witch no less than three months for direct usage, no idea yet of how long if we try to combine orbs and strikers."
"From the Mages side there is a bottleneck in the orbs production, mines in Liberion, Africa and Asia had been contacted to provide uncut jewels in behest of the Empire. Since its to their benefit to show complete resource independence regarding their magic tools I expect them to have severe limitations regarding their raw resources and are using our own to compensate."
"They also need to find proper researchers and trainers, which are always in short supply in the middle of a war and even with substantial payments measured in squadrons of planes they will be reluctant to release them to the detriment of their own army readiness. That by necessity will limit the size of the amount of mages they can graduate per class and the amount of integration between our two magic systems."
"Commandant, do you have an idea which is the current status of the Empire regarding manpower?"
"Two days ago I was eating dinner with Ilhen, and he told me a funny story about their volunteer laws, apparently those are far more open ended than ours, we got a hard limit of eleven years old volunteers for Second and First Class recruits, while the Empire's volunteers don't have a minimum age requirement or for that matter any other requirements at all."
"Captain Schwarzkopf tells me that one of his former subordinates escaped from her orphanage at the ripe old age of seven to join. Since the law allows for any and all mages to volunteer on their own without discrimination regarding age, gender or education there was literally no recourse for the recruitment office to turn her down, so instead they sent her to the mage officer course with instructions not to mistreat her but also not to give her preferential treatment, tutoring or physical dispensations of any kind."
"Now that's a set of contrarian directives." Dame Gresley said with a raised eyebrow.
"As they explained to Ihlen they didn't want to babysit a little girl, but neither they wanted to sour her to military service. After she flunked they were supposed to have a young officer adopt her and have her volunteer again at a more reasonable age. No one expected the girl to be top of her class in everything but P.E. and earn an early deployment post on merit alone. Recently she graduated from their War College twelfth in her year, got knighted for it."
"Oh ho ho, another person who learns that underestimating a young witch must be done at their own peril."
"The captain is tight lipped on actual information about their war, but after that anecdote the conversation naturally migrated towards the mobilization, I gave some of the numbers of our own and he did the same. Since mobilization recalls are done by newspapers and radiophonic messages no one bothers to hide the age groups called to arms. It won't give solid numbers but they help us get a decent impression of how hard pressed they are."
"Pretty smart…" Lindbergh said.
"Their mage mobilization is roughly similar to ours, the Chantiers de la Jeunesse I mean, for their B and A class mages start at fourteen. The main difference is that while our witches serve until age 21 or discharge for magical deficiency their compulsory service in peacetime is for twelve years after graduating from training before being allowed in the reserves and afterwards the mages must be registered to use magic in the civilian market."
"Allowed to retire on their late twenties at the very least? That's nearly a decade more than a witch gets, and the registry indicates that the remain strong enough afterwards. That longevity in addition to the ability to recruit males must give them a huge recruitment pool compared to witches."
"One that could be seen as either as wide as the ocean or as deep as a puddle. According to their own instruments one of our Third Class recruits is roughly equivalent to one of their A-class while their A-class is barely two and a half more likely to occur than our First Class witches. If their orbs weren't so efficient they would barely have a wing in total." In some ways that fact gave some perspective on the otherwise lackluster aerial performance of their orbs, their best mages, captain Schwarzkopf included, could barely reach the magic power of an average witch.
"This supports their own information on mage demographics, twelve years of compulsory service hinds to a permanent system rather than our own or the liberion points, not to mention the posterior registry which sounds similar to Stalin's proposed methods, at least the public ones before the Red Guard discovered his real intentions. Do you have any information on the rest of their forces? Traditionally the use of levies is a better indicator of the strategic situation."
"Peacetime they were supposed to be conscripted age twenty for two years of compulsory service, in a million strong army. They didn't mobilize at all when they at war with Legadonia, a country that is quite literally two thirds of Baltland, but they did after… after Gallia attacked by surprise without declaring war. As a precautionary move they declared universal conscription ages seventeen and up to forty-five for the army and critical industries but the captain is relieved that so far they are kept busy repairing roads and carrying boxes."
"Which means they probably only called or recalled part of their manpower and are taking their time to train them before deploying. Not desperate yet."
"And if they're not desperate they will try to hold the orbs in order to get a better deal. Not to mention that giving critical information about how to build them on our own is only going to happen if their war becomes an existential threat and they think we have a definitive way for it to resolve on their favor. And for all our advancements I don't think we have anything so terrifying in the worlds combined arsenals, not even with twenty years of refinements in war gasses."
"One problem is going to be Ossman Colonel der Maur has been giving Captain Ugar access to civilian texts of the Great War for them to understand how bad things are going to get if the trench warfare keeps going, he also issued very specific instructions of what they can be told in terms of tactics or historical information. Dangling the solutions reached through three years of battle plus dozens of large scale war games."
"I wish I was naive enough to hope that the lesson they learn is to start looking for peace. Margie, thankfully you weren't born yet, but sometimes the Great War felt darker than even this one. The Neuroi have been murdering us but at least humanity has rallied against them, compared to that the battles in gallian soil saw the worst of mankind."
"Just before the war I was fourteen and had just received my letter of acceptance to Saint Cyr my father took me to our country house in Bordeaux to spend the weekend, just the two of us hunting boar and then smoking it in a hut. He took the time to tell me of his experiences in the Great War, first it was light fare, his training dome of the skirmishes he had with the chasseurs on Africa against the Karsland's colonial garrisons. But then manpower grew scarce in the Republic, he had his horse taken from him, became the second in command of a company of chasseurs a pied and was transferred to the frontlines in Europe just in time for the offensive in Champagne, took a few trenches, survived being gassed out of those trenches, and then once more taking them back. By the end he recovered some kilometers of our land at the cost of so many loses that his company was disbanded and he had to take command of the consolidated platoon that was left, and before his unit was reorganized to go after the next target morale finally collapsed and the poilu rebelled."
"Dad's platoon hadn't suffered as much as the local divisions, so they kept discipline, and while he wasn't one of the unfortunate officers to organize a firing squad, he did set up machine guns behind one of the mutinying companies and forced them to disarm."
"And then the Neuroi came…" Said Lindbergh, as a staunch pacifist he was well aware of the timeline.
"And then the Neuroi came." Dame Gresley agreed. "I was part of the International Red Cross back then and the eruption of them in Verdun and Ypres took everyone by surprise. Suddenly the breakout both sides had tried for years was accomplished by a neuroi marabunta that neither side could contain without leaving themselves exposed to the enemy army in front of them."
She took one sip from her tea before continuing. "And while the armies were busy glaring each other the Neuroi rampaged at their leisure, devouring people, first in small groups, then entire villages. After three months they send the first aerial incursion through the channel while our navy and air force were blockading Karsland and Dover burned. It took six months before sanity was reasserted and a ceasefire was agreed in order to push the Neuroi off the continent."
The ceasefire agreement came only after in Gallia a series of protests by the civilians threatened to topple the government while at the same time the army became increasingly unreliable with the soldiers in the frontlines growing more frustrated with the rumors of entire cities devoured and even rear echelon units demanding to be send to the aid of the besieged countryside instead of suppressing the population. On the other side of the Channel the King of Albion decided to intervene by publishing an open letter to the Parlament at the same time that the Kaiser, freshly returned to Berlin after being kidnapped by a witch insurrection, forcibly dressed as a peasant and taken to a neuroi infestation in the occupied Nederland, and then after his kidnappers charged at a seemingly endless tide of monsters returning to safety as part of a refugee column send a missive to Helvetia to act as intermediary for a truce. Furthermore the Liberion doughboys who had the duty of cleansing the occupied areas of neuroi (a compromise borne out of the fact that as newcomers the karslanders believed that if there was a betrayal they would be easier to defeat than the battle hardened albionese and gallians) discovered that the widely distributed stories of the karslanders feeding children to the neuroi were false, sparking a controversy that president Woodrow Wilson would use to distance himself from the Entente and broker a treaty that made Karsland return all of the occupied territories in Gallia in exchange of relaxing the Monroe Doctrine, buying (at a discount) the albionese Falkland Islands as well as Pewenche territories and performing a joint investment in south american territories that would be developed into Neukarsland after the continental evacuation of the homeland.
"I think that I speak for everyone in my generation that I don't want to emulate anyone from the Great War, not the karslanders who invaded my country, not the gallian officers who decided to sacrifice our people rather than give up a few kilometers of bombed out territory, not junior officers like my father who had to threaten at gunpoint the poor men who refused to die in vain, and most certainly not like bastards like Gamelin and Petain, who out of spite over decades old humiliations delayed for months the deployment of the gallian armies when Wolf appeared over Berlin, allowing it to grow more powerful until it spawned motherships all over Europe."
"We are not going to create delays for the Orb project, too many lives depend on its success. Nor we are going to sabotage any attempt to reverse engineer them. In fact we're going to give our full cooperation to it. The League charter promotes joint research, so we will volunteer our best witches and magical engineers of every nation and we will look at the underlying mechanisms of the orbs and while those in power insist in reproducing the entire mechanism we will focus on understanding how they convert aether into magic, and how to bestow that ability into others, not only witches after the abandonment of their familiar but also men and women with the potential. We will introduce them to magic and offer them to be part of the covens and to fight for the same protections and privileges. Those in power think that we will greedily deny the gifts the gods gave us, we will instead offer them with an open heart."
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