Chapter 1: Call on Duty

Chapter 1: Call on Duty

CHAPTER 1

CALL ON DUTY

The scent of death lingered faintly in the western front’s integrated headquarters’ base. The last operation had cost them the lives of several hundred thousand—four corps and over 60 percent of their total forces. Their transport capabilities couldn’t keep up with the number of corpses that needed to be sent back, and the base had to function as a morgue for some time.

“The Eighty-Sixth Strike Package.”

Despite it already being spring, the air was oddly cold as Major General Richard Altner—commander of both the 177th Armored Division and the Republic of San Magnolia Relief Expeditionary Force—spoke the name.

“An independent mobile strike force that pilots Reginleifs, deployed to suppress the Legion’s core locations. In effect, a foreign force composed of the Eighty-Six… So it’s finally time for them to welcome their queen, is it?”

After a prolonged glance at the office the “queen”—a guest foreign officer from the old Republic of San Magnolia—would occupy, he met the eyes of his conversation partner from behind the veil of fragrant steam wafting from their coffee substitute.

“Think it’ll go well?”

“At the very least, I don’t doubt their combat potential.”

The western army’s chief of staff, Commodore Willem Ehrenfried, wore a calm expression. His white face, characteristic of one of noble birth, broke into a thin, cold smile.

“The majority of the Eighty-Six we took under our protection were what they call Name Bearers—veterans who lived through years in the Eighty-Sixth Sector’s battlefield despite the 0.1 survival rate. Even compared to our soldiers, who went through proper combat training, they’re in a league of their own. So from a tactical point of view, not putting them to use isn’t an option.”

It may have been only coffee substitute, but it was brewed dutifully for them by their aides and served elegantly in porcelain coffee cups. Enjoying the flowery aroma of the coffee as they drank, Willem spoke again.

“Regarding the Reginleifs, we now have a rough idea of how to practically utilize them. In terms of mobility, they’re more than a match for a Grauwolf moving at maximum speed. And thanks to the Eighty-Six, we no longer need to have the Legion eat up any more of our precious operators.”

“I was talking about the state of the Eighty-Six themselves, Willem,” said Major General Altner, placing his coffee cup back on its saucer. The characteristically resonant sound of porcelain clinking against porcelain echoed around the room.

“They know no peace, have no homeland, and stand on the battlefield with nothing to protect… Do you really think they can act as the Federacy’s sword when they cause friction simply by being in the same place as our fighters?”

The first five Eighty-Six they’d unintentionally sheltered stood as a test case. Even after being given a peaceful life, they’d chosen not to accept it—they couldn’t accept it. Their relentless pursuit of combat scenarios they had little to no hope of returning alive from made the other forces fear them. Even as they accrued achievements that were unmatched in the Federacy military, they were loathed as “the monsters the Republic created.” One thing Willem knew for certain was that if one were to force those who were raised on the battlefield into peace, they would only flounder, hesitate, and eventually suffocate.

“Good hunting hounds require a vicious disposition. A good owner’s skill is measured by how well they can direct that viciousness toward their enemies, Richard.”

That overtly aristocratic manner of speech, one that seemed to disavow the very humanity of others, brought a steely glare to Major General Altner’s eyes. Having that gaze fixed on him made the chief of staff shrug in an elegant fashion.

“…Of course, if they cannot grow accustomed to peace, things may be difficult after the war’s end—not just for them but for us as well. We don’t want criminals in our reserves after the fighting is over, after all.”

Major General Altner cocked an eyebrow.

“Color me surprised, Willem. And here I thought you’d say, Our solution will be a single bullet for each of them .”

“You have to consider the cost of the fuel for burning the corpses as well as mental-health-care fees for the ones doing the deed, not to mention the paperwork it’d take to cover up their disappearance and the hush money for everyone involved. Even then, it’d eventually come to light…just like it did with the Republic.”

Following the Morpho’s elimination operation, they confirmed the survival of not only the United Kingdom, the Alliance, and the Republic, but several other countries as well. All those countries would know of the atrocities committed by the Republic by now. The Eighty-Six, also known as the Colorata, were the minority in the Republic. Many of them had brethren of the same races and ethnicities in these countries.

The Republic’s treatment of the Eighty-Six would come to be known as the single most abhorrent account of human persecution in all of recorded history. That tarnished reputation would remain a stain on the Republic’s name for years to come—assuming, of course, that humankind had so many years left.

“Compared to all that hassle, acclimating them to a life of peace and granting them an education equivalent to that of the special officer academy is more efficient. We may yet have a squadron’s worth of young men and women with bright futures ahead of them… Besides…”

The chief of staff’s smile suddenly faded away as he looked into the single black eye returning his stare.

“…with the Morpho’s suppression and the liberation of the Republic, the people may be in a celebratory mood, but the reality is that the war is getting worse. Because of these incredible losses, the western front’s war potential has plummeted, which means taxes will have to increase. We need to make use of these war dogs now, while everyone still has their spears pointed at the Republic… Otherwise, the Eighty-Six may be the ones who find themselves the most uprooted by all this.”

It was a nightmare she’d seen countless times.

At the edge of a nameless wasteland, beyond the scorched, desolate battlefield, a handful of headless, sun-bleached skeletons fought against a tidal wave of metallic monsters. Forced into a march, without supplies or any support, the skeletons fell time and time again until they were worn out by the overwhelming number of enemies. One unit was lost in battle, and then another.

And then the final unit remained—one specializing in melee combat—surrounded by Dinosauria and ruthlessly ripped to shreds. Its broken high-frequency blade stabbed into the ground like a blank grave marker. The tragedy wouldn’t end, and as the Legion tore away the canopy, the cockpit opened to reveal an impossible amount of blood. They then pulled the mangled corpse of a Processor out of it, dangling like a rag doll. The dead had no dignity paid to them; they were merely torn to pieces as their heads were plundered. Lena never knew their faces. So when the silhouette, clad in a desert-camouflage field uniform, was dragged out of the cockpit, she never saw his face.

To the very end, all Lena could do was watch. Her voice never reached them. She couldn’t fire a single shell to support them. She could only watch their gruesome fate unfold. How many times did she wake up in the middle of the night, calling out that name? How many times did she activate the Para-RAID, trying in vain to contact them, only to have each failed attempt break her heart anew?

She never saw it happen, so she never knew for sure, but that was reality. They should have experienced a fate more terrible than she could ever have imagined. The thought of it sent a shiver down her spine.

But she would never have to see that dream again.

In the Federal Republic of Giad’s western front’s integrated headquarters’ base, Lena got up that morning and made sure her outfit was in order. She fastened the buttons of her starched blouse up to her neck and put on the jacket of her dyed-black uniform. She donned her rank insignia and her gun belt, even put on her regulation cap, and brushed her single streak of red-dyed hair aside. She put these items on one by one, resolutely, like a knight preparing to march into battle.

She peered into her reflection’s silver eyes—the same color as her hair—in the mirror. Her uniform was painted black to mourn the deaths of the subordinates she’d lost, and a strip of her hair was dyed red in acknowledgment of their shed blood. The hardened visage of the Bloodstained Queen, Bloody Reina, stared back at her, drenched in their colors.

A knock at the door broke the stillness of morning just as she was tightening her tie.

“—Colonel?”

Lena smiled. She’d never known his face… Never, until now. But she did know his voice. For the past two years, this voice had softly supported her. This serene, peacefully toned voice, with its enunciation and pronunciation pleasant to the ear. Right now, the owner of the voice was at her side, so she would never have to see that nightmare again.

“I’m awake… Come in.”

There was a short pause that felt almost hesitant. But in the next moment, the door opened gently, and Shin peeked his face in. Black Onyx hair and crimson Pyrope eyes. It was only yesterday that she learned his coloring was the opposite of Rei’s—his older brother. He was dressed in a fresh Federacy-issued steel-blue uniform but looked as if he had already gotten used to it. His slender form and white face matched the image of the silent boy she’d pictured from his voice, but his hardened physique stood as evidence of the long time he’d spent on the battlefield.

“Colonel, a transport to the headquarters’ base will go out at 0825 hours. Please get ready until then.”

“Okay.”

Lena gave a short reply as she turned around. Then, looking back into the red eyes that reflected her dark appearance, she nodded.

“I’m ready… Let’s go.”

The newly erected Rüstkammer base was built in the Wolfsland—a vacant region that bordered the former Empire and the old territories that were once in charge of production and manufacturing. This was the home base for Lena’s new unit, the Eighty-Sixth Strike Package. It was a large base hugged by forests trailing down from the slightly elevated mountains to the west. A river a short distance away separated the base from a nearby city standing in the shadow of the remains of an old fortification.

Its barracks accommodated nearly ten thousand Processors and enough support personnel to fill a full battalion, as well as roughly a thousand base personnel and several hangars to house the Reginleifs. It also had a runway for the takeoff and landing of transport planes and a training ground spread out on the opposite side that was quite large in comparison to the forest and river.

While it could be said that the base was set up next to a city for ease of transportation, it was also done to help with the Eighty-Six’s rehabilitation into society. They had lived on the battlefield from such a young age, so this was necessary for familiarizing them with a peaceful environment. The Eighty-Six who had been sheltered six months ago were still in training—the special officer academy, that is—and the other four senior Eighty-Six, like Raiden, retreated to the barracks, saying they needed to handle their paperwork, leaving Shin to act as her guide.

While on the runway, which relentlessly reflected the sun’s heat, Shin offered to take her trunk and her cat carrier.

“Let me carry those for you.”

“Oh, it’s fine. They’re not that heavy.”

Shin ignored her reply, took her bags, and started walking away just like that. Lena thought it would be rude to take them back after he’d been so insistent on helping, so she decided to indulge him just this once.

“Thank you very much.”

“It’s nothing.”

The curt tone that would immediately create distance with anyone else…felt so nostalgic. Lena looked up at his profile standing a head taller than her and was unable to restrain the smile that found its way to her lips. Her eyes were drawn to the red scar just barely visible beneath his uniform’s collar. The grisly mark traveled all the way around his neck, eerily resembling a decapitation scar, as if his head had been severed and roughly stitched back on. Was this some old war wound? It looked fairly old.

Since meeting them yesterday at the memorial of the four ruined Juggernauts and the 576 deceased Processors, she hadn’t actually gotten to speak much with Shin and the others. After that, she was accepted into the western front’s integrated headquarters, and since she was technically the representative of the Republic, there were quite a few social matters she had to attend to. That left her with little time to rekindle old friendships.

She’d gotten to talk to Shin only in the car on the way to the base, so the only thing she’d managed to hear about was what had happened during the Special Reconnaissance mission two years ago and how they’d made their way to the Federacy. She hadn’t had a chance to ask about the scar, but…perhaps it would be best to wait for him to tell her about it on his own. Whatever had left such a horrid scar on his body had likely left a matching scar on his heart. It wasn’t a subject she could broach so easily.

Perhaps noticing her gaze fixed on him, Shin addressed her.

“…What is it?”

“N-nothing.”

The fact that just looking at him made her happy was…far too embarrassing to say aloud. Shin cast a suspicious glance at Lena as she stared at the floor with reddened cheeks. After a short while, he continued the conversation.

“By the way, I see you’ve been promoted. Congratulations.”

“Ah yes…,” replied Lena bashfully, unconsciously touching the rank insignia on her collar’s lapel.

A promotion to a field-officer position was a hard one to earn, and being promoted to a commander rank like colonel was even more difficult. While it was true that promotions during wartime tended to happen absurdly fast, a soldier reaching the rank of colonel while in her teens was unheard of.

“It’s all for form’s sake, really. I’m being dispatched to a foreign country, so it wouldn’t do for appearances if I wasn’t at least at this rank.”

Conversely, only a low-ranking officer had volunteered to become a commanding officer of the relief unit dispatched to the Republic. It had been six months since the Gran Mur’s collapse, and the Republic still had many who were waiting for someone to fight in their place and save them and who had no intention of fighting for themselves.

The plan was for the Federacy’s relief forces to withdraw after retaking the northern administrative Sectors and to have the Republic’s own forces, which were currently being trained, take over defense at their own expense… But considering the way things were progressing, Lena found it hard to be hopeful.

“But that’s just as true for you, Captain Nouzen. You only have two years of military experience with the Federacy, but you must have achieved quite a bit to get promoted to captain this quickly.”

“…All the ranks above me were vacant, which just goes to show how messed up the Federacy is.”

He shrugged, a slight smile visible. Lena looked up at his face with some surprise. She thought his expressions had softened somewhat, in spite of the fact that she hadn’t known what he looked like before today. Beneath his cool tone, this young man of the Eighty-Six had always suppressed… something ; he’d forced it down so violently, it was liable to break at any moment.

A timer staring him in the face as it counted down the moments until his death. His objective of freeing his brother’s soul from its mechanical prison. The release. At any rate, now that he had been freed from all of that, perhaps he could finally be at peace. Perhaps now he could look back on the memory of the brother he’d been forced to gun down—despite never wanting to fight him in the first place—with some fondness.

“Now that you’re a tactical commander, I thought you’d have aides and officers working under you, but you’ve come alone.”

“No one volunteered. But still, I’m scheduled to meet with some Processors who volunteered and…a technical officer… Er, Major Henrietta Penrose.”

Her tone lowered a bit as she said that name.

“…? Oh, the Para-RAID technical adviser.”

Shin nodded after a moment of dubious silence. It seemed he didn’t understand why Lena faltered before saying Annette’s name.

Lena shot him a sidelong glance. Henrietta, as a given name, didn’t usually get abbreviated as Annette, so she had referred to her by her full name… But maybe when Lena had first met her, Annette had introduced herself with this unusual abbreviation because she didn’t want to remember someone else who’d once called her by a different nickname. A boy—a childhood friend—who she’d hurt and abandoned…and hadn’t seen since.

“…You really don’t remember.”

“Remember…what?”

“Never mind.”

Lena shook her head, cutting off the discussion. She was an outsider to the situation, after all. If Annette wanted to talk to him about it, she would. They fell into a brief silence that was soon broken by the sudden meow coming from the cat in Lena’s carrier.

Shin looked down, blinking in surprise.

“A…cat?”

“He’s the one you raised in the Spearhead squadron’s barracks.”

“Oh.”

There was no trace of emotion in his features, but that was typical of him. The cat, on the other hand, seemed to recognize the voice of its favorite person and was meowing excitedly.

“What did you name it?”

“Thermopylae.”

Or TP, for short. Shin fell silent for a moment. It was, incidentally, the name of a battlefield where a small army had faced a much larger one in a battle of overwhelming odds, ending with the soldiers from the smaller army dying an honorable death.

“…Not Leonidas?”

“That’s right.”

“You’re surprisingly terrible at picking names.”

“You’re one to talk, Captain. This little guy saw you off, so he can’t be Leonidas. He didn’t suffer an honorable defeat in battle, did he?”

“I suppose, but ‘Thermopylae’ is just…”

“Well, what did you call him before the Special Reconnaissance mission, then?”

The Spearhead squadron’s Processors didn’t have a set name for the cat, since it wasn’t one of their comrades in arms, and Shin tended to call it the name of the author of whatever he was reading at the time.

“I think it was…Ougai?”

“…Don’t tell me you were reading ‘Takasebune’ at the time…! That’s even worse…!”

Lena groaned in exasperation. It had a different subject, but the crude summary was that it was the story of a young man who killed his younger brother. Given that Shin went on the Special Reconnaissance mission to face Rei—his brother, who had been turned into a Dinosauria—with the knowledge that they would likely kill each other or that one would turn the tables on the other and kill him, reading that particular story went beyond bad taste and right into the realm of straight-up masochism.

“I just happened to pick it up. There wasn’t any deeper meaning to… Oh…”

Shin trailed off. They were in front of the base’s largest hangar, which connected to the first barracks, where the classrooms and Lena’s office were. The Feldreß it would come to house were still in the transport, and the shutters were open, revealing the place to be empty. The ceiling was high and set with multiple gantry cranes, and the part that would be considered the second story of the hangar was set with catwalks.

“…Colonel.”

“…? What is it?”

“I understand that you’re about to be very angry, but please, direct your anger only at me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Suddenly, a thick voice bellowed out like a tank turret’s fire.

“Take aim!”

Lena braced herself as she turned to see…

“Fire!”

…not guns aimed at her…

…but a large amount of water falling toward her head.

“Hwaaaaaah!”

And of course, splashdown.

Hit by such a large amount of water that it felt as if someone had tipped a full bathtub over her head, Lena was soaked in the blink of an eye. Looking around, she saw a group of boys and girls in uniform and work clothes, each holding an empty bucket. Evidently, they’d held the water she had been splashed with.

That was as much as Lena could gather at the moment, and Shin—who had run out of the hangar the moment he heard “Take aim!”—returned to her side. Apparently, this was why he’d insisted on taking her luggage. Maybe there’d been some kind of slipup, or perhaps he really did feel guilty, because his expression was rather awkward and uncomfortable. The cat, incidentally, didn’t even acknowledge its mistress’s plight, still meowing in an attempt to get Shin’s attention.

“Er… Well, it’s only water, so don’t worry… Right, Master Sergeant Bernholdt?”

“Sir! We got it from the nearby water supply!”

A soldier in the prime of his life walked to the front of the catwalk with his chest stuck out (not out of pride, but out of military discipline) and answered.

“There were also two idiots who brought buckets of paint, but I had it dashed over them as punishment!”

“Oh…”

That explained the two soldiers painted red and white standing in the corner. After paying them a sidelong glance, Shin spoke up. His voice wasn’t as rough as the master sergeant’s, but his commanding tone traveled with surprising ease.

“You’ll clog the drain, so go wash yourselves off in the water supply outside before going in the shower. And be sure to take care of the mess you made on the floor.”

““Yes, sir!””

Their replies, booming and desperate, were acknowledged by a dispassionate nod from Shin. Lena was still in shock.

“…Is welcoming new officers this way some sort of Federacy tradition…?”

“It isn’t. The Federacy was formed only ten years ago, so it hasn’t had enough time to develop these kinds of tradi—”

“Captain Nouzen, spare her the pointless trivia. There are more important matters at hand.”

A young female officer approached them, a bundle of bath towels in hand. Lena turned around to face her with a start. It was the Eighty-Sixth Strike Package’s commander, Colonel Grethe Wenzel. Put simply, her commanding officer.

“C-Colonel Wenzel?! M-my apologies…!”

“Oh, you can do away with formality, my dear. I might be your superior in the pecking order, but we’re the same rank.”

Placing a towel over Lena’s head, she used another to dry Lena’s wet uniform. The towels were likely freshly laundered, as they were warm and smelled as if they had been dried by the sun.

“There’s a change of clothes in your room, and the bath is ready for you… At least Captain Nouzen had the decency to make them get you towels.”

“…I’m sorry.”

“But that lack of consideration proves you’re still a boy, Captain Nouzen, and that’s cute in its own way. But from now on, if you don’t start acting like a proper escort, she might grow to dislike you.”

“Colonel—”

“Oh, have I said too much? But I’d reckon it’s your fault for having such a juicy personal conversation in a Feldreß that archives all communications on its mission recorder.”

Shin growled in annoyance. Grethe giggled and left, taking the wet towels with her. The master sergeant on the catwalk rushed over in a hurry.

“We’ll handle it, Colonel.”

“My, Master Sergeant Bernholdt, whatever are you planning to do with a towel a young woman just used?”

“Don’t even joke like that! Especially not in front of the captain! Hell, she’s almost the same age as my kids! She probably doesn’t even have hair down there yet!”

“…‘Hair,’ you say?”

“Aaaaaaah, nothing, it’s nothin’! Just pretend you didn’t hear anything!”

This lively exchange, which one wouldn’t imagine a field officer was having with a noncommissioned officer subordinate, slowly died down. Watching them leave, Shin spoke in a worn-out tone.

“For now, you should change out of your uniform… I’ll show you to your quarters.”

Lena’s private quarters, located on the top floor of the first barracks, consisted of two rooms: her office-cum-reception room facing the corridor, and the interior chamber serving as her bedroom. It may have been a military base, but it was in a safe zone over a hundred kilometers away from the front lines. It was a spacious room that prioritized creature comforts over defense—fitting for a commanding officer—and the gentle pearl-white furniture, perhaps chosen with the young lady occupant in mind, was quite lovely.

Shin placed her bag and the cat carrier on the floor and left the room, and the black cat promptly began its cautious first exploration of this new place. The four walls were covered with colored glass, and the office’s large window gave an unobstructed view of the city on the other side of the river.

There was a newly erected school in one corner of the city. It was a special facility meant for the Eighty-Six who’d been taken to the internment camps before they had a chance to get elementary education. Usually, a squad-size unit had only one mental health squad appointed to it, but this unit was given two. Even though providing that care should have been the Republic’s responsibility…

Shaking her head, Lena made her way to the bathroom attached to her bedroom. Steam clung to the colored tiles of the bathroom walls, and apparently some flower essence had been applied to the water, because a pure, pleasant fragrance filled the room. She washed off her light makeup and turned the stylish faucet, letting the hot water wash over her.

Come to think of it, she still hadn’t gotten an explanation as to why this had happened to her. She opened the bathroom door and put on the RAID Device resting on top of her towel, activating the Para-RAID. The target was, of course, Shin, who was waiting in the corridor outside her private quarters.

“Er, Captain…”

The call was shut down wordlessly. She reconnected the Resonance and asked as soon as the call was connected:

“Why did you hang up?”

His response came in a disconcerted tone.

“If anything, why did you Resonate now of all times?”

“We were in the middle of a conversation.”

“…We can finish it later. At least wait until after you shower, please.”

Lena refused to back down.

“Why can’t we do this while I’m in the shower?”

“What do you mean, ‘why’…?”

There was an exasperated pause between them, which Lena broke by persistently pressing him.

“You were fine with it before. When you told me about the Black Sheep and the Shepherds, two years ago in the Spearhead squadron’s barracks, you, er…you were connected while you were in the shower.”

“Yes… But you don’t seem fine with it, so you don’t have to force yourself.”

That’s…

Well, yes, she was quite embarrassed about this.

Only their sense of hearing was being Resonated, but it gave the impression that they were face-to-face. Lena realized that this meant that her feeling of embarrassment over the situation was being directly transmitted to Shin, which left him feeling restless.

And to top it off, the sounds of the running water and her breath, leaking out from the heat and the steam, as well as the sound of the water dripping from her long, satin-like hair, were also being transmitted.

“But this time we can’t— Ah…”

The Sensory Resonance ended again, and this time it seemed that he’d removed his RAID Device, since she couldn’t reconnect.