BEGIN MOVEMENT 5: INDELIBLE RAGE
LOOK AT HIM GO. IF HE KEEPS THIS UP, IT MIGHT EVEN MAKE ME PROUD TO BE HIS SISTER.
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Alisson adored himself in a long black coat. An insignia of his new authority was contained in the folder Lente had given him, that had denoted his new position as General. He affixed it to an armband; the metal shining brightly against his black apparel. Alisson stepped out into the cold morning air, his breath visible before him.
“Are you really sure this is what you want people to see the leader of your army looking like…? It’s kind of tacky.” Firo whispered to him.
“I’m here to win a war and destroy a nation.” Alisson tightened the black gloves around his hands. “Not to make friends.”
He would make sure his subordinates understood his intentions.
As he walked through the chilly air, Alisson ran through in his head the current geopolitical situation of Sidonia.
The mainland of Aleeze was donut shaped, and stretched vertically up the map. Sidonia was at the southern tip of Aleeze, its holdings stretched outward until its borders collided with three other nations on land. To the west, the Irine Principality, which held the western half of Aleeze. To the east, the Jedathari Caliphate, which held the eastern half. To the direct north, the small subhuman nation of the harpies blocked off Sidonia’s access to the Sea of Aleeze, and had remained a thorn of neutrality for all sides involved.
To the very north, a cluster of minor human nations rested, slowly being conquered by Irine and the Caliphate in recent years.
The Sidonian armies were spread across the world. The first and second, the largest and most veteran, were currently off on an expedition to the far east, a chain of islands that were around the world, past the continent of Andestine. Why exactly Sidonia had sent them there right before the outbreak of war, Alisson wasn’t privy to know. Regardless, they were effectively off the board.
The 3rd and 4th armies were on the border with the Caliphate, and were in a tentative stalemate, not wanting to attack and stretch their supply lines, despite the Caliphate not having any large forces to stop them for the time being.
The 5th army had been holding the line against Irine for the past two years. A border skirmish had escalated to an all out conflict, the 5th was battered, bloodied, and by all accounts should’ve collapsed long ago against the increasing weight that Irine was throwing their way.
The 6th had been disbanded recently after it suffered a great loss in Irine right after deploying in a vain attempt to help the 5th.
Thus, Alisson was tasked with reinforcing the 5th. In his official orders, this was all that was asked of him – High Command didn’t seriously think a small, rookie army, like the 7th could destroy one of the three biggest human nations on its own.
Alisson intended to prove them wrong.
He stepped into his office, and as expected, adjutants had gathered well in advance, and gave him a crisp salute. He had requested a group of sub-commanders to aid in the final formation of the 7th. The core of the 7th would remain unchanged: A corps of thirty-thousand standard infantrymen, which included their miscellaneous supporting elements.
However, auxiliary detachments were up to Alisson to form.
“General Nuam, sir!”
“At ease.” Alisson stepped inside and returned their salute. “First of all, I want to make clear our schedule. We will set out two weeks from now.”
“Sir, that’s…”
“No objections.” Alisson snapped back. “Two weeks. I want everything ready.”
“Sir!”
The adjutants would relay his orders to the rest of the army’s structure. The details were not his responsibility. The 7th was currently gathered at their parade grounds in the center of Sidonian land. After finalizing his preparations here, he would depart to the army properly.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“The current supply line capacity. What is it?”
“Sir…?”
“Answer me.”
The logistics officer snapped to attention. “Enough to reach the 5th army and remain there, sir! We will share our supply lines!”
The officer said like he was stating the obvious.
Alisson shook his head. “Separate the supply lines. We’re not going to the 5th. I want as much capacity and distance as you can manage. Consider our army twice its size. Requisition every scrap of supplies they’ll give us.”
“Why, sir? If I may ask…” The officer said nervously.
Alisson pointed to a map that hung up behind him. “We’re not staying in our homeland. We’re taking the fight to Irine.” He tapped the Principalities capital. “Please procure a supply plan that can manage our size at a distance of their capital. We won’t be going any further than that.”
The officer stared at him, blinking.
“Get it done.” Alisson growled.
“Y-yes, sir!”
Alisson crossed his arms, looking across his adjutants. “I want to be perfectly clear. Our number one priority is our supply line. The fighting capacity of the men come second. If you don’t think you are up to task, then please resign and I will find men that can.”
…
And resign they did. Almost half the command staff resigned when they learned of Alisson’s insistence on a stronger than necessary supply line. If they didn’t have faith in their commander, then let them leave. He wasn’t here to babysit officers who assumed they would have a safe job in reinforcing the 5th, hiding behind its veteran, overburdened legions of soldiers.
Alisson sent out calls for replacements, and personally picked some men that he had met earlier in his life. If anything, his demeanor served to weed out his subcommanders.
Alisson believed that when it came to two armies clashing, only two things mattered. Firstly, supplies. If one army was starving, then it wasn’t much of a fight – And a fight may not even be necessary at that rate. Secondly, the commanders. An army of sheep led by a lion will always beat an army of lions led by a sheep.
Still, he needed muscle and specialization. That was where the Sidonian military’s 50th to 59th units came into play. They were the best of the best, and Alisson wanted as many of them has he could get his hands on.
Firstly, he needed to fight for command over the 51st, his own unit that he had built. It was now commanded by Daventdale Se Sabthi, his second. This would be the easiest elite unit to take control of, every solider there knew and respected him. They would all petition to join him. A few days of negotiations later, and Alisson found himself shaking Daventdale’s hand.
“Welcome back, Captain. Or, General.”
Alisson walked before the 51st in their barracks. “As usual, High Command doesn’t appreciate our value. You will all be the center of the 7th army – My most reliable unit that I’ll be throwing at any problem I might find.” Alisson smirked. “So be prepared. I won’t be going easy on you.”
Of the available units that weren’t deployed, most were too small or didn’t offer any specialty he found useful. For example, the 52nd was comprised of two members, who were trained in assassination. The 57th, Louise’s unit, were being saved for the Caliphate front, and would soon be deployed – But they were such a valuable unit that Alisson never had hopes that he would be able to poach them.
There was one unit that stuck out to him. The 58th. They were washouts that weren’t good enough for other units; cobbled together from mainline infantrymen for their individual performance. In other words, it was a large elite unit that consisted of roughly two-thousand strong. Pound for pound, a single 51st could probably beat a handful of 58th, but two hundred of them?
He wanted them. Getting them would be a challenge, but Alisson spent his time pushing for their transfer. A stroke of good fortune occurred when Sidonia herself ordered that the 58th be assigned to Alisson. Sidonia was prone to micromanaging even the smallest of topics, but it seemed she had shown him favor.
Lastly, Alisson needed a unit that could get close and personal with the enemy. To handle interrogations and civilian matters. He entered the Inquisitor’s field office, and asked for volunteers who were willing to train and create a special police detachment. One Inquisitor by the name of Hoffman rose to Alisson’s call. He and a few of his comrades were sent to the 7th, and would in turn open up recruitment for a militarized Inquisitor detachment – A unit Alisson could use to deal with dissenting humans.
He also tried wrangling a Ranger corps to task with defending his supply lines. Though this proved to be too much of an ask. Rangers were light infantrymen who specialized in asymmetric warfare, perfect for harassing enemy supply lines or defending your own. They were hard to come by however, as most had already been deployed to aid the frontlines.
Two weeks passed by in a flash. Rumors had spread that something was going on with Alisson, the way he conducted himself in his negotiations and management had spread, and people were surprised by a new aura of intimidation that he now held with him. People were unsure of what to think; But Alisson didn’t care what people thought.
He set out to his army and was greeted by the sound of trumpets announcing his arrival. On his battle-hardened stallion that he had rode north with, Alisson was followed by a convoy of his confidants. The 51st, the 58th, Dascha, who now had the official title of his bodyguard, and Celis, who now held the position of his personal adjutant – But it wasn’t like he was actually going to assign her any work in her condition. He just wanted to keep her close, and away from the capital.
He looked out across the field of tents and camps before him from the top of his stallion. These were his men now. Behind him, in across dozens of wagons, were barrels of unknown contents.
***