Post by StaolDerg on Jan 26, 2023 2:24:30 GMT -5
The door of Brigadier Rong’s office rapped twice, and the elderly inselni sat up in his chair from the scattered papers that littered his desk, stretching his aching back and sore wings.
“Come in!” He called out gruffly, shifting the papers aside, and with them a bottle of tablets.
General Api entered the room and greeted the Superintendent with a short bow that he reciprocated before offering her a seat. “General,” he nodded. “You wanted to chat?”
“Indeed.” Vaiseln proffered a folder to him with the Army of the Bromsoll’s insignia emblazoned on its face. “The Army of the Bromsoll is need of new, modern guns. I need the arsenal to design new arms for the troops, produce them, and when the time comes, improve or replace them.”
The Brigadier frowned at the folder’s contents, and he peered at the General over the folder. “You know I can’t deliver twenty thousand in time for this adventure the Kumo have going on.”
“I don’t expect you to. General Suzuki of the Elenrian Prefectural Army has provided equipment to cover my existing deficits. This is for whatever threat must be faced after Gongmenao, whether it be foreign…” She tilted her head at the folder in the Brigadier's hands. “Or more likely, domestic.”
“Hmph.”
The Briagdier flipped through some more of the folder. “That explains the specifications. A design for a high-quality service rifle capable of competing with an Old World weapon, and on the other hand, a cheap, serviceable enough gun to throw a bullet downrange when it needs to.”
Vaiseln crossed her arms. “But can it be done?”
The Brigadier sighed. “With the funding I have as of now? Yes. With the expertise of the novice machinists, old-fashioned gunsmiths, and overworked laborers I have manning the machines? Not immediately. Progress will take time, and development will take brains. I don’t doubt that the officers and machinists will come up with something, but you’d best find a source of smart people soon to fix the gaps in the barrels and chambers of the guns if you don’t want the soldiers to be shooting glorified muskets that explode in their faces.”
“That can be arranged. Give me some time, and I’ll find some willing engineers to join your employment. What deadline for a first prototype do you expect, Brigadier?”
The old Inselni scratched his chin, thinking. “About a season, I should think.” He paused. “Though it’s not totally out of the question that it would take longer. We lack modern machinery for anything better than relatively low-quality equipment, and as I told you before, we can’t change that until we get a heaven-forsaken steel mill built.”
“I will see what can be done about that,” Vaiseln responded with a sullen acknowledgement. “Funds are difficult to come by, and the money we need to fund the development of the armory will be slow to come through. But rest assured that the armory’s expansion and modernization is first priority: for now, just worry about the development of the guns- I will figure out the rest.”
She got up to leave, nodding towards the Brigadier. “I’ll get out of your horns so you can work, Brigadier. Keep me updated.”
“Of course. And General?”
Vaiseln paused as she opened the door, turning with a raised brow.
“Don’t get shot, will you? You’re the first younger officer who hasn’t met me in person to demote me, and I rather like it that way.”
She gave him a muted smile, and shut the door behind her.
Rong looked to the mess of papers on his desk upon his desk and noticed the little pill bottle lying on its side. He began reaching for it, but remembering the folder on his desk, he paused, and finally put his hand back down.
I’ll have one later, he figured, and tore his thoughts from the matter as he got up to get his coat. He’d need to chat with a number of people- supervisors and workers needed to be informed of their new order, and he still needed to find the right people to start designing the gun.
He opened the door to the chilly air, and breathed in the frigid atmosphere.
“You wanted a new chance, Rong. Here it is.”
“Come in!” He called out gruffly, shifting the papers aside, and with them a bottle of tablets.
General Api entered the room and greeted the Superintendent with a short bow that he reciprocated before offering her a seat. “General,” he nodded. “You wanted to chat?”
“Indeed.” Vaiseln proffered a folder to him with the Army of the Bromsoll’s insignia emblazoned on its face. “The Army of the Bromsoll is need of new, modern guns. I need the arsenal to design new arms for the troops, produce them, and when the time comes, improve or replace them.”
The Brigadier frowned at the folder’s contents, and he peered at the General over the folder. “You know I can’t deliver twenty thousand in time for this adventure the Kumo have going on.”
“I don’t expect you to. General Suzuki of the Elenrian Prefectural Army has provided equipment to cover my existing deficits. This is for whatever threat must be faced after Gongmenao, whether it be foreign…” She tilted her head at the folder in the Brigadier's hands. “Or more likely, domestic.”
“Hmph.”
The Briagdier flipped through some more of the folder. “That explains the specifications. A design for a high-quality service rifle capable of competing with an Old World weapon, and on the other hand, a cheap, serviceable enough gun to throw a bullet downrange when it needs to.”
Vaiseln crossed her arms. “But can it be done?”
The Brigadier sighed. “With the funding I have as of now? Yes. With the expertise of the novice machinists, old-fashioned gunsmiths, and overworked laborers I have manning the machines? Not immediately. Progress will take time, and development will take brains. I don’t doubt that the officers and machinists will come up with something, but you’d best find a source of smart people soon to fix the gaps in the barrels and chambers of the guns if you don’t want the soldiers to be shooting glorified muskets that explode in their faces.”
“That can be arranged. Give me some time, and I’ll find some willing engineers to join your employment. What deadline for a first prototype do you expect, Brigadier?”
The old Inselni scratched his chin, thinking. “About a season, I should think.” He paused. “Though it’s not totally out of the question that it would take longer. We lack modern machinery for anything better than relatively low-quality equipment, and as I told you before, we can’t change that until we get a heaven-forsaken steel mill built.”
“I will see what can be done about that,” Vaiseln responded with a sullen acknowledgement. “Funds are difficult to come by, and the money we need to fund the development of the armory will be slow to come through. But rest assured that the armory’s expansion and modernization is first priority: for now, just worry about the development of the guns- I will figure out the rest.”
She got up to leave, nodding towards the Brigadier. “I’ll get out of your horns so you can work, Brigadier. Keep me updated.”
“Of course. And General?”
Vaiseln paused as she opened the door, turning with a raised brow.
“Don’t get shot, will you? You’re the first younger officer who hasn’t met me in person to demote me, and I rather like it that way.”
She gave him a muted smile, and shut the door behind her.
Rong looked to the mess of papers on his desk upon his desk and noticed the little pill bottle lying on its side. He began reaching for it, but remembering the folder on his desk, he paused, and finally put his hand back down.
I’ll have one later, he figured, and tore his thoughts from the matter as he got up to get his coat. He’d need to chat with a number of people- supervisors and workers needed to be informed of their new order, and he still needed to find the right people to start designing the gun.
He opened the door to the chilly air, and breathed in the frigid atmosphere.
“You wanted a new chance, Rong. Here it is.”
