A Chance to Ride… Frederica

"Marie!"

"Dad!"

A moving reunion between Colonel Bernard and his daughter. I coldly cut into it without the slightest regard for the moment.

"Save the tears for when you're home, Colonel. We have a bill to settle."

"A b-bill? What do you mean?"

At my words, the colonel went rigid.

"I'll be taking what you treasure most in this world, Colonel."

"……!"

Marie flinched at the shoulders. The colonel, startled out of his wits, threw himself in front of her. Frederica stared at me with a look that said, this is not okay.

"As of today, the Soissons Central Post Office is hereby annexed to the Jäger Battlegroup's direct command."

"Th-the post office… you say?"

The strength seemed to drain ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from the colonel's legs, and he swayed where he stood. Marie's reaction, oddly enough, was the sharpest of all — she gasped, then let out a hollow, disbelieving laugh.

"Ah, ahaha…."

A strange heat had risen in Marie's face. The flush spreading from her cheeks all the way to her ears said she was positively furious.

But she wasn't even an adult yet — there was nothing a girl like her could do for her father's sake. For some reason, I found Colonel Bernard exhaling a breath of relief. I ignored him, and ignored the glare Marie was leveling at me with those resentful eyes, and walked over to Frederica.

She looked at me as if she simply couldn't comprehend it.

"…Lieutenant Colonel, did you say that on purpose?"

"…Hm? Say what?"

"…Nothing. I just… felt a little sorry for Miss Marie, that's all."

"Marie…?"

Status Analysis.

She likes the post office that much…?

Frederica pressed on.

"And another thing, Lieutenant Colonel. I fail to see why you need the post office under direct command at all. Wouldn't it be better to simply install a communications relay at the city hall?"

"Major, you know your tanks, but you know nothing about information."

I picked up a single letter lying on the desk.

"The post office is this city's circulatory system. It's not just a mail service."

"A circulatory… system?"

"That's right. Who's sending money to whom, who's nursing a grudge, where the rats gather to plot — every one of these letters has it all written down."

I gave the order.

"From this moment, all mail passing through Soissons goes through Imperial Army censorship. Bring any suspicious correspondence straight to my desk. That is the price of keeping the Colonel and his daughter safe and sound."

This was the very heart of information control.

"U-understood… I'll do as you say. As long as my family's safety is guaranteed…."

The colonel nodded weakly. With his family's lives on the line, he had no other choice.

"Good. Now then… time to have a look at this one."

I seized the fallen Antoine by the hair and hauled him up.

Status Analysis.

Several hours later. A makeshift interrogation room in the basement of Soissons city hall.

Strapped to an iron chair, Antoine's eyes were still brimming with venomous defiance.

"Give it up, you Imperial dogs. The only thing coming out of my mouth is spit."

Antoine spat blood-flecked saliva and sneered. The military police captain in charge of the interrogation wore a look of helpless frustration.

"Lieutenant Colonel, my apologies. This one is unusually tough. He appears to be a fairly senior operative in the Republic Liberation Front — he bit through his own tongue under torture and refused to break."

Frederica, standing beside me, added flatly,

"A waste of time. Men like that belong on a gallows in the square. A public example would do far more to stabilize the city."

Status Analysis.

A textbook fanatic. Dealing with him the normal way would accomplish nothing but giving me a headache. I activated the skill at once.

Charming Speechcraft.

"Antoine. You think the homeland will remember you for holding out? Die like this, and you'll be filed away as one more nameless straggler of a broken army. Cooperate now, and I'll guarantee the safety of your family."

"Ha! That's the sort of thing an Imperial dog would say!"

Even Charming Speechcraft wasn't getting through. His willpower was no ordinary thing, after all. I sighed and pulled off my gloves.

"Everyone out. Major Frederica — you as well."

"But Lieutenant Colonel, that man—"

"That's an order. Five minutes is all I need."

Faced with my flat, unyielding tone, Frederica asked nothing further and left the room. The military police closed the door behind them. Now it was just Antoine and me, alone together.

"Heh. What do you plan to do, just the two of us? Snap my fingers off one by one?"

"No. Primitive methods like that aren't to my taste."

I walked slowly around behind Antoine. Then, gently, I placed my hand on the back of his rigid neck.

Touch of Attunement.

Through my palm, I could feel his ragged pulse and the frantic waves of his overstimulated nervous system. Antoine writhed at my touch, but soon went stiff as a board.

"What… what is this…?"

"You see, the human brain can learn to endure pain — but against disruption, it's utterly defenseless."

I began channeling the skill directly into the nerve bundles running down his spine. The process: forcibly scrambling the sensory signals his brain received.

"A-AAAAAAAGH! U-uhahaha! Heek — urk!"

Grotesque screams burst from Antoine's mouth.

Alongside the agony of being torn apart, an ecstasy he had never once known in his life slammed into his brain. Pleasure came flooding in at the moment of greatest torment; his muscles went slack the instant he tried to scream. With the entire order of his senses collapsed, Antoine's body convulsed violently in the chair.

"Now, talk. Where are the remnants still hiding in Soissons?"

"I… I don't know! Kill me… please, just kill me!"

"Oh-ho. Still not far enough, I see?"

I raised the attunement another notch. This time I amplified every sensory receptor in his body to one thousand percent. From now on, even the air brushing against his skin would feel like a blade, and the sound of his own heartbeat would thunder in his ears like a cannon.

"GRAAAAAAAAAGH!"

Antoine's eyes rolled back. The will of a man smeared in drool and tears plummeted, in an instant, from unbending steel into the mud-pit of the abyss.

"Talk. Where are they?"

I whispered low into his ear.

"Talk, and I'll end this hell for you."

"Ugh… uhh… Sector Four… in the west…"

At last, Antoine spilled everything.

"The remnant cell in the city… they're bait… meant to pull your eyes toward the city center… the real force… tonight at 2200… Republican survivors lying in wait… they'll come in from the western outskirts…"

"The western outskirts?"

"Khh… you're finished…. A full battalion of 2nd Corps stragglers… and a special operations team… coming in…. Their objective is the recapture of Soissons…"

With those final words, Antoine slumped to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. I took out a handkerchief, wiped my hands, and opened the door. Frederica and the military police captain, waiting outside, turned toward me.

"Lieutenant Colonel!"

"Tonight, 2200 ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hours. The western outskirts. The resistance in the city center was nothing but bait to draw our attention."

"What?! You broke him that fast?"

The captain gaped, peering into the interrogation room. Seeing Antoine sprawled and motionless, he swallowed hard and looked back at me.

The moment I stepped out of the interrogation room, I grabbed the wireless set.

"All officers — assemble in the operations room immediately. You have ten minutes."

Situation room, Soissons city hall.

By the time I pushed through the door, all the key players were already gathered.

Status Analysis.

"Western outskirts — the entrance to Route 4."

I raised my command baton and tapped a point on the map.

"Tonight at 2200. A battalion-sized force of enemy remnants will advance on this position. Their objective is the recapture of city hall and the sowing of chaos in the urban districts."

"A full battalion…?"

Erika frowned.

"And the Republic still had that kind of manpower lying around? Their corps fell apart ages ago."

"They scraped together whatever ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stragglers they could find. The enemy believes we're completely absorbed with pacifying the city — in other words, they're aiming for an empty-house burglary."

I swept my gaze around the room.

"But unfortunately for them, we know exactly when and where they're coming."

I handed out roles at speed.

"Major Reinhardt."

"Yes."

"1st Battalion seals off the city's periphery. Block it so tightly that not a single ant escapes."

"No problem."

Serafina nodded.

"Captain Erika."

"Yes! I mean… yes, sir."

"Your company loops around and hits them from behind. When they try to run — flatten them."

"Leave it to me. I'll grind them into the dirt."

"Gunter. Your company takes the sewers."

"Yessir! We did it at Rosenheim too — this is our specialty!"

Gunter answered with a stolid nod.

"And the frontal breakthrough goes to the armored battalion."

"Yes, Lieutenant Colonel."

Frederica, standing in the corner, snapped to attention.

"Operation begins at 2200 sharp. That is all — dismissed."

The officers dispersed like clockwork. I rose from my seat to gather my gear — and that was when Hanna approached me with a troubled look on her face.

"Lieutenant Colonel. We have a problem."

"What is it?"

"The command armored car is… beyond repair. The sugar water has baked itself onto the engine cylinders — they say the entire engine has to come out."

"Ha. What isn't broken around here."

The commander of a critical operation, reduced to walking on his own two feet. I was just debating whether to requisition a military police vehicle when—

"Lieutenant Colonel."

It was Frederica. She hadn't left the operations room — she'd been waiting for me.

"…Would you not care to ride?"

"Ride what, exactly?"

"My tank."

Her gaze met mine, unwavering.

"Vehicle 101. The battalion commander's mount. Her communications suite is flawless, and above all… she's the one you tuned with your own hands. She'll be the safest place on the battlefield."

Offering up the turret — the tank commander's sovereign domain, that. From Frederica of all people, with that iron pride of hers.

I smirked and adjusted my cap.

"An honor, truly. A chance to ride the beloved steed of the Empire's youngest armored battalion commander."