From the Author: Hello once again. It seems that "Traitor's Loyalty" and "Knight's Dishonor" are going to have to wait. The Ideas finished "Harlaown's Legacy" and "I Spy, I Knight" first for me to write. To you first time readers who might wonder if you will understand this story, don't worry. Each story listed here was crafted to be readable by themselves as an AU fic. (You would be encouraged to read the other stories to get a full picture though)
To those who are ready to kill me over my Code Geass Fanfics, go ahead and do it. The Ideas are sending so many conflicting thoughts that chapter four seems to be getting pushed in ten different plot directions. That needs to be sorted out before someones' brains get hurt real bad.
Rather than bore you with my problems... Onwards! The Story Awaits!
Titans' Fall
"CRADLE!" Hollered a dirt-caked soldier as the entire platoon he was with began a haphazard retreat.
"NO! Stay Away… STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!" Screamed another trooper as he was pinned down by a vaguely, humanoid looking robot. Ignoring the frantic soldier's pleas, the machine began its slow and painful execution of the soldier.
Rriip!
"YEARGH! PLEASE! PLEASE STO-ARGH!" A passing soldier- a private- saw his trapped officer and frantically pointed his magic gun at the droid, firing indiscriminately at point blank.
The private whispered to himself in horror when the bullets put gaping holes in the droid's head but did absolutely nothing to stop its actions, "Gods… what are these things."
"HURK!" was the officer's last cry as the machine tore out his still beating heart and tossed it aside like a ball.
Realizing the droid now had its eye on him the Private tried to back away in animal panic. Alas, he was too late. No one else looked back. No one else wanted to fall victim to the Belkan's soulless and unrelenting war-bots.
They were men and women of the Mid-Childan 65th Enforcer Regiment, by no means the toughest and strongest bunch of Mages the nation could muster, but not pushovers either. They had been attached to the legendary 48th Fleet of the great Mid-Childan Armada, commanded by the equally illustrious Admiral Gil Graham.
Said overall commander of the battle, was currently overlooking the now completely ruined counter-attack that they were supposed to attempt on orders of High Command.
Admiral Gil Graham crushed the urge to sigh like a defeated man in front of his men. He had earned his post with grit and bloodshed. He could not show weakness. But given the current circumstances, no one would really have the right to blame him.
The wily old Admiral had been given three fleets; the 20th, 41st and 48th to lead into a counter against the Belkan advance with elements of the Enforcer Corps- Battalions 64 through 74.
In total, his forces stood at nearly a fifteen thousand crack troopers, a thousand drop troops from the ships and four thousand naval crew veterans. He had thirty two ships, two of which were equipped with their latest weapons and the rest were as close to spanking new as they could get without having the freshness smell.
The enemy on the other hand, had fielded a comparatively paltry force of a single Wolkeritter Company, with a single Cradle for support. The commander was also a relative unknown and while capable in combat, left much to be desired in stratagem.
Gil Graham would very easily had succeeded in forcing the Belkans on a back-foot once more, if only the Wolkenritter Commander had not caught wind of his presence in this particular operation through the Belkan's own extensive spy network.
Sir Graham and Dame Yagami Signum had some serious beef between them following his complete humiliation of herself and her men. He successfully persuaded a bunch of cowardly Belkan Nobles to surrender Signum in a siege for safe passage, making a complete mockery of not only the Belkan military, but the nation itself.
Ever since the day the Belkan Commander had managed to escape from her cruel and demeaning captors, she had publicly sent a declaration that the entirety of the 48th Fleet would be slaughtered with their families as well, Man, Woman or Child.
Yagami Signum lost all moderate views or hopes for a peaceful end to the war that very day, and had turned into the ruthless General of the Blazing Fires who was now so feared by both Belkan and Mid-Childan.
Gil Graham barked out commands for his Communications Officer to signal a full retreat, and to hurry the evacuation of the city currently under siege; generically named Frontier Outpost, due to it being closest to the Belkan border. He knew this day was inevitable. He knew that he would one day pay for stepping aside to let the High Command have their wretched way with the Belkan prisoners.
Yes, Gil knew full well that he and his men probably only had a few minutes left to live, and he did not try to prolong their lives. They had all deserved what they got.
Every last participant of this little counterattack had been members of Squads or Regiments that shouldered the most responsibility for the many war atrocities that Mid-Childa had committed against Belka. The aging Admiral was far too experienced in life to refuse part of that responsibility as well.
Staring silently out the window to see the oncoming wave of promised doom, Gil Graham silently prayed for his daughters' safety and for forgiveness from his God.
With a firm and grim tone, Gil Graham addressed his crew for the last general order, "Signal the fleet! Form Defensive position pattern Sigma… Gentlemen and ladies, dark days befall us now, and we are no longer delusional with visions of grandeur. The enemy is at our doorstep, and threatens the lives of many… "
"We have made our mistakes. We have committed grave sins, but I will not have our foolishness cost the lives of innocents!" Gil roared as he only had in his youth. Age seemed to leave him, to prepare his frail body for one final push.
"We will stay and fight till every last civilian is out, or we will die to ensure it!" At the final words, the fleet pounced into action.
All over the bridge of his mighty flagship, weapons officers were barking out orders to shunt all spare energy into shields and massive transport spells that would take the civilians out of designated spots of the city to the nearby reinforcing fleet twenty kilometers away, commanded by Admiral Clyde Harlaown.
"What of the Enforcer Regiments Admiral?" Shouted an aide, "They're not responding on all channels and we suspect the Belkans are jamming our long range lines!"
Gil Graham could see the blinding glow of the charging Belkan weapons even over their great distance. His men on the ground were closest to the enemy and simply too far to actually retreat in time. He silently cursed the bloody company commanders who chose ignore his cautions and fallen so neatly into trap.
But angered or not at being unable to withdraw the troops, it was an impossible task at the given moment, Admiral Graham simply stared at his aide, and the officer immediately knew the answer, relaying his Admiral's unspoken command.
The Enforcer Regiments were abandoned.
A tense minute of activity followed as the more civilians were evacuated, and for a moment, Admiral Graham thought that he might just be able to get his fleet and the civilians out in time.
He was wrong.
"ADMIRAL!" Was the pained cry from the radar officer that jolted his attention from the evacuation progress. Looking out into the distance, he saw just what had dismayed the soldier so.
In the distance from Frontier Outpost, three Belkan Warships had finished charging up their dreaded Main Guns. Though sight proved useless in obtaining enemy numbers, the radar had also picked up no less than four Combat Cyborg Regiments and a full three Regiments of regular Knights.
Those were reinforcements for the Belkans courtesy of one Commander Yagami Signum.
"INCOMING!" Shouted a weapons officer, as the balls of doom hovering beneath the Belkan warships turned into streaks of light shooting in their direction.
"All shields up to full." Whispered Admiral Gil Graham, "We must get the civilians out at all cost, even if we have to die for them."
The crew froze.
"GO!" Snarled Admiral Graham, startling his men into motion.
Just three more civilian pockets left… Thought the Admiral, as the impending doom crept ever closer.
Two left… The attack was very nearly upon them now. The transport officers were screaming for every last spare erg of energy to get the thousand or so people out.
One more!
The attacks slammed into the shields of the twenty or so remaining vessels of Admiral Graham's fleets, and all was deadly silent for a split second.
BRRRAAAAAAAAAM!
The fleet and the city it defended were suddenly in a sea of fire. Communications lines with the five ships that took the brunt of the attack vanished into static instantly. Seconds later, the three ships forming the second line of the formation vanished into the light.
"Admiral! Shields are falling fast!" Shrieked a half hysterical engineering officer.
His aide turned white as he was updated on the fleet's status, "The third line has vanished! Gloria, Turner, Dawn of Man, Liberty Hammer, Constant Presence and Zealotry down with all hands!"
Ignoring the report, Admiral checked the status of the evacuation, hoping against hope that the people had made it out alive.
"Bzzt… Admiral Graham! We've got the last of the civilians; now get the hell out of there!" Squawked his personal communications line.
It was Admiral Clyde Harlaown. Gil wished he could hug the bloody hero.
"Shields. 10%" Murmured the engineer, too certain of her fate to even be panicked.
Smiling tiredly, Gil Graham pressed the transmit button of his device, "It's too late for us old friend. Go, May you one day find your peace."
The last line of ships in front of his Flagship disappeared in the raging fires. Alarms began to howl all over the bridge as the shields finally gave way and left the mighty vessel at the mercy of temperatures it was never built to withstand.
"May God have mercy on us all" Whispered Admiral Gil Graham, as the windows of the Bridge cracked ominously, the fractures showing up as clear as day on the magically enhanced glass.
Moments later, the glass blew inward, showering the crew with deadly shrapnel.
And Gil Graham knew no more.
Flames and searing heat followed an instant later, and consumed the corpses or those unlucky enough to survive the glass shards.
Then, the mighty flagship too succumbed to the fierce flames… and vanished.
When the light had subsided, all that was left to prove the existence of Frontier Outpost, Gil Graham or his men, were the three towering mushroom clouds of fire that shot straight up into the sky.
Twenty kilometers away, Admiral Clyde Harlaown stared numbly at his hissing communications device.
"Admiral?" Whispered his aide and wife, Major Lindy S Harlaown.
"Signal the fleet, we head for the fortress city of Draco. Don't forget that we have civilians. We will protect them." Admiral Clyde paused, "We shall not let Admiral Gil Graham and the brave soldiers who died for these people do so in vain."
"Tell Captain Reaver to float to port! Try to outflank the left most Cradle!" Clyde Harlaown was forced to cling onto his command seat as a shock wave ran through the ship, "Status report!"
Clyde's new aide, Captain Hamasaki was good, if not brilliant, but she lacked the level of synchrony he shared with his wife, Lindy. Hamasaki took a full second longer than Lindy to absorb all the information on the battlefield and relay it to her boss.
He sometimes wished Lindy had not gotten her promotion to Rear-Admiral.
"Enemy point Cradle, Fiery Dawn, sunk!" Hamasaki spoke evenly; too aware of the situation to even celebrate the fall of one of Belka's greatest weapons, "The main assault force of the Belkans is pulling back and taking minor losses."
Tapping rapidly on her command screen, Hamasaki sent an updated list of the fleets' to Clyde, who nodded appreciatively.
Admiral Clyde Harlaown had been given command of Fleets One through Five, Enforcer Regiments Thirty through Forty Five and a platoon of Striker units to combat the advancing Belkans at the fortress city of Draco.
That made his army the biggest one fielded for a single battle in the entire history of Mid-Childa.
But the Belkan numbers more than explained such a massive deployment of materials and men.
An unprecedented number of Five Cradles had been deployed to take Draco, which was hardly surprising since it was the main highway to the capital of Clanagan. A fully equipped Wolkenritter Company had been sent in with ten Battalions of the Regular Knights. Needless to say, the Cradles had also come stocked with at least a thousand Cyborgs each.
Added to the fact that the new Mistress of Darkness was apparently in charge of the Belkan army and was a seriously powerful Knight, Clyde was thankful for the thirty Strikers who were still keeping the Mistress at bay.
Enforcers symbolized the elite of the Mid-Childan Army, but the Strikers were truly a class of their own in the Mid-Childan magic arts. They were quite really the crème de la crème that the Mid-Childans could muster. Each an A-Ranked or S-Ranked mage in their own right the Striker team certainly was able to do their job distracting the SS –Borderline SSS- ranked Belkan Commander, whilst wreaking untold havoc on the regular Knights in the way.
"Rear-Admiral Williamson has a report from Third Fleet! Charge of the Arc'en'ciel cannon has been completed!" Hamasaki glanced at Clyde, "He awaits your command to begin bombardment of the right most Cradle!"
With Rear-Admiral Thane of the Fourth Fleet forming a firm formation directly in the path of the remaining two central Cradles, the odd were starting to look up for the Mid-Childans. Clyde was glad that his tactics had successfully drawn the Belkans into close combat to prevent their use of their own Cradle Main Weapon.
Clyde understood very well that sheer firepower had its benefits and pitfalls. Admiral Gil Graham had made a devastatingly fatal mistake in the Battle of Frontier Outpost; engaging Belkans at distance.
Such a strategy might provide the Mid-Childans with some advantages given their aptitude for ranged magic, but balancing the differences between the risk of having to face a Cradle Main Weapon blast or the sword of the mighty Belkan Knights, close in combat, was ironically more helpful to the Mid-Childans.
Thus he had managed to craft a sly plan that literally had him using the Striker team and two platoons of Enforcers moving around the advancing Belkans to hit them close in and from behind, forcing them closer to the city defenses than they would have anticipated. The Enforcers had mostly died of course, but thanks to their sacrifice, the battle was very much to the Mid-Childan's favor.
The other advantage of the Mid-Childan forces was their own super-weapon; the Arc'en'ciel. It paled in comparison to the Cradle's big gun, but it was capable of more surgical shots instead of plain area attacks. It was what allowed them to break the tough Cradle's shields and armor. It was the only available weapon capable of sinking the dreaded Belkan warships.
Snapping off the order for Rear-Admiral Williamson to commence bombardment of the Belkan's Cradle named Swift Wind, Clyde returned his attentions to the rest of the melee. The Belkans were getting battered from all sides, but they were hardly going to give up, even with so many cannons bearing down on them.
Glancing at his own ship console, he noted that his own vessel, the mighty Ashura, would be capable of firing its own Arc'en'ciel in a minute, hopefully allowing them to bring down the second Cradle in the vicinity of Captain Reaver's detachment
A sudden flash of colossally bright light was the first indication to Admiral Clyde that something had gone horribly wrong.
Hamasaki's voice had a slight tinge of chagrin in it as she relayed the cause of the flash, "The city generators have been sabotaged! City Defense Guns' shields are going offline!"
There was a second massive flash, and this time, Clyde felt a strong rumble travel through the ship.
"The City Guns have been destroyed!" Yelped Hamasaki, all sense of decorum gone.
Clyde understood her reaction; the City Defense Guns were the pride of Mid-Childan engineering. Twelve tri-barreled monstrosities that hung in two arcs at the city outskirts facing Belka, they were more than capable of annihilating any platoon of Knights foolish enough to approach them, or slow a Cradle down considerably.
But Clyde's purpose for them lay not in their guns. The massive cannons had a minimum range of two kilometers. The Cradles were hanging close at just inside the cannons' range and the rest of the Knights had already been shielded from the cannon rounds on the way in thanks to said Cradles.
No, Clyde had intended to make use of the City Defense guns as points to concentrate his land-based defenses. Each gun had a meter of reinforced alloy encasing and was protected with every last magic abating spell the Mid-Childans knew. Even Cradles would have a hard time cracking the guns open. Then, due to their sheer size, each gun was large enough to shelter as many as a hundred troops who could pop out to attack an enemy and retreat before a counter was made.
But with the loss of the guns, Clyde suddenly had nearly a thousand fewer Enforcers, and no hard points of defense for his ground forces, and any Belkan ranged fighter was now freed to take potshots at the Mid-Childan flotilla.
The problem was that Belkan pot-shots would come from below the vessels, which had been forced to divert energy to the bow to ward off the Cradles. A lucky strike could easily wipe out a gun emplacement, or worse-
BOOM!
Clyde bit back a curse as he saw an older L-class warship, the Protector, go up in flames with all hands; he didn't need Hamasaki to tell him that.
A strong enough Belkan Knight could actually strike the vulnerable reactor cores of a ship and blow the whole thing to kingdom come. The more recent LS-Class that Clyde was on had settled that problem a while back, and most other ships like the E and G classes had separate reactors or sufficient shielding to prevent such an embarrassing way to sink.
But the 4th Fleet that was taking the brunt of the assault was not made of such ships. The 4th Fleet was an extreme oriented one comprised largely of Aggressive L-Classes or Defensive D-Classes.
The Lancer-Classes as the L-Class was affectionately named, would deal serious blows against an opposing fleet using their vast array of weaponry, whilst the older D-Classes utilized two sizeable shield projectors each to provide cover and had just enough guns to make an attacker think twice.
"Pull the 4th fleet back!" Roared Clyde, "Tell Admiral Thane to switch the D-Classes to full shield projection! Captain Reaver is to pull his detachment away back towards the guns and ascend to five hundred meters!"
Clyde knew his backup plan well and his men knew it too, but with the tide so suddenly against them, everyone wondered if they would be able to make Plan B work.
Then things got worse.
The brilliant flash from Rear-Admiral Williamson's Arc'en'ciel cannon demolishing the Belkan's Swift Wind became starkly contrasted against a truly malevolent and gargantuan ball of dark energy.
"Diabolic Emission!" Stuttered Hamasaki.
At once, Clyde realized what had happened. The Diabolic Emission was a forbidden Belkan spell that could be used only by the most powerful of their kind. By power, a mage would need raw energy greater than that of any normal S-Ranked mage to safely carry out such a tainted spell.
The Mistress of Darkness had broken free from her encirclement.
All at once, the airwaves came alive with the definitely feminine but absolutely frigid voice that Clyde did not want to hear.
"Heed me foolish Mid-Childans!" The Mistress was only whispering, but her magic was sending her voice out as clear as day, "Flee now if you value your life, for you shall not receive a second chance!"
"No!" Clyde slumped numbly into his chair amid Hamasaki's frantic pleas for orders.
A radar officer shouted out, "We have visual of the Mistress! Putting feed on screen now!"
Yagami Hayate's youthful but haunted face blossomed onto Clyde's command screen.
"Admiral!" Hamasaki screeched once more.
Forcing himself out of stupor, Clyde ground his teeth and called out, whilst looking at his own screen, "Status of Arc'en'ciel cannons!"
The report was far from what he wanted to hear. Admiral Williamson only had twenty percent charge to the guns. Fleets One and Two had been using their Arc'en'ciels for rapid rate, lower power bursts on the enemy ground units to even the land skirmishers' odds. His own Fifth fleet was the only one with a full charge.
And the Fourth Fleet, being one of older ships, did not even come with the damned cannon.
At our current rate of battle… We could actually lose! Clyde scowled visibly. He was not going to let the Belkans take one more step into Mid-Childa and he was going to pull off a victory, even if he had to yank it out of his own ass.
"Open communications! I-It's the Mistress!" Squeaked the communications officer.
Wordlessly, he tapped his screen to accept the call, "Hayate… It's been a while."
Ignoring the looks of shock on his bride crews' faces and the exclamations from the Belkan side, Clyde chose instead to concentrate on taking in the visage of the once innocent girl he had met so many years ago.
"Hello… Uncle Harlaown." Hayate had hesitated for a moment as though wondering if she should still address him as such, "It's been about nine years to be exact."
Clyde glanced off screen to look at the progress of the battle, and noted that the Fourth Fleet was really getting a pounding as it retreated. Turning back to Hayate, Clyde's face turned serious, "I know you're not here to talk of the times when I gave you piggybacks… what do you want Hayate."
The Admiral felt a slight sense of relief that Hayate had not snapped back a harsh reply, signaling a level of civility and humanity still inside her.
He was even happier to see her swallow visibly, "I want you to surrender."
Clyde was flummoxed by that question, and by the sound of the protest in the background on the Mistress' side, her own compatriots must have thought that she had gone completely mad.
It was surprising, true, but Clyde Harlaown knew better enough about reading a person to tell that Hayate really wanted to stop the fighting. It was a very tempting offer as well, given that victory would come to his men at a very steep cost, and surrender would save many lives and much expensive materiel.
But Admiral Clyde was never able to try and negotiate terms or start an unconditional surrender.
Hamasaki's panicked shout rent the air of the bridge, "Admiral Williamson! What are you doing! STOP!"
For one fleeting moment, Admiral Clyde's awkward reunion with his dear friend's daughter and a chance to help Mid-Childa reconcile with Belka had nearly begun. The next, Clyde could only watch helplessly as a stunned Yagami Hayate and her entourage were engulfed in the pure white flames of Admiral Williamson's Arc'en'ciel discharge.
"No… NO!" Clyde screamed, "Hayate! By God, Williamson! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?"
"I thank you for creating such an unprecedented opportunity for us to strike a crippling blow to our enemies! It will be a magnificent victory for us!" Williamson's visage was one of insanity and blood-lust, "Now! We must finish the rest of these monsters-"
To Clyde's growing dismay, a Cradle had fired its Main Cannon behind Williamson's Third Fleet. It was apparent that the Belkans had become so incensed that they were willing to risk getting burnt by their own guns to finish off all the Mid-Childans.
The young Admiral was right.
"ALL MID-CHILDANS WILL DIE FOR THEIR TREACHERY!" Roared a Wolkenritter on the open airwaves. He was obviously the new leader of the Belkans, "NO MERCY!"
"ARGH!" Screamed Admiral Williamson as he and his entire fleet vanished into a glowing sea of fire… along with a good chunk of Draco city, a tenth of the surviving Enforcer units and a platoon of Knights who had been too close to the blast.
"Bring all our forces in for close ranged combat!" Clyde shouted over the growing racket in his bridge, "We cannot let the Belkans continue to use their Main Cannons!"
"But Admiral! We don't have the firepower to go head to head with three Cradles… and what about the negot-" Hamasaki cringed when Clyde shouted back angrily.
"We just lost that choice! Tell the Fifth fleet that we will be entering the battle as well! Charge up all weapons and give me full speed! We'll be going right into the center of the enemy formation!"
Ponderously, the Fifth Fleet, which had been hanging back from the battles, began their slow and steady cruise in towards another Belkan Cradle that had taken up position as a spearhead for their increasingly ferocious assault.
All at once, that same Cradle had begun to focus its heavy guns on the Ashura.
Admiral Clyde Harlaown was thrown to the floor when two lucky magic cannon strikes broke through the flagships shields and pounded into the ship's hull, ripping gaping, flaming holes all over the ship's vast bow.
"Fire the Arc'en'ciel!" Shouted Clyde, his right hand glowing with magical energy that took a full and unnervingly long second to unlock the weapon's firing mechanism.
A low hum filled the ship as the firing sequence was initiated.
Then, a single streak of white magic infused energy flowed from the ship's twin-pronged prow and crossed the distance to the enemy Cradle. It struck the Cradle dead amid-ship. A massive shield appeared and held against the onslaught for a few seconds, the Cradle furiously lobbing volleys back at Admiral Clyde's Flagship.
But those few seconds passed, and the Arc'en'ciel's power output did not falter. The shields shattered with an ear-splitting crack, and the magic blast washed over the Cradle's thick armor, melting through section after section of bulkheads. The blast passed over the reactor room, and caressed the core, sending it straight into overload.
The Cradle's attacks stopped an instant later and its bow drooped down. Then, it exploded in a colossal flash of fire as ammunition stocks and the reactor core blew up, raining hell on the Knights and Enforcers fighting beneath the now destroyed vessel.
"Arc'en'ciel charge status of Fleets One and Two?" Admiral Clyde clung onto his seat grimly as the downed Cradle's sister ships began to focus their fire at his own vessel.
Over the din, an engineer hollered in distress as the shields of the mighty Ashura began to overheat and fail. Clyde face fell even further as Fleets One and Two reported a charge of only Fifty and Sixty-Seven percent respectively. They needed three minutes at least to reach the necessary charge of Ninety-Five percent to properly breach the Cradle's armor.
"Shields down!" Hamasaki reported
FLASH!
Clyde was confused. One moment, he'd been seated in his command seat, the next; he was sprawled on the floor that looked like part of the corridor below the bridge.
"MEDIC!" Someone screamed
Hauling himself up to his knees, Clyde gave himself a once over when he felt a short sharp twinge in his right leg. His right calf was half as thick as it should have been, and the his uniform was in a burned, slightly bloody mess.
"Hamasaki? Hamasaki!" His aide didn't answer, she was in no condition to do so after all.
Clyde found Hamasaki Asakura propped against the corridor walls just two meters to from him, blood leaking out of her mouth and scalp. It looked like she had hit her head against the bulkheads on her way down. The odd angle her legs were at also told Clyde his aide's knees had probably been shattered by the impact.
"Admiral! The bridge is gone!" Shouted an Ensign as he came rushing into the corridor with a whole team of medical officers.
Slapping away a medic and ordering the soldier to tend to his aide, Clyde shouted for a status report.
"Our Fleet is holding at Ninety percent fighting capacity, but Fleet Four is taking heavy casualties! They got just eight ships fully combat capable! Flagship Spearhead is going down!" Shouted a communications officer; a lieutenant.
Admiral Clyde winced as a medic began to cauterize his wounds to stop blood loss, "What about Fleets One and Two? The Enforcer and Strikers?"
The lieutenant hesitated for a moment, but his training kicked in and he managed to spit out the bad news, "Admiral James was killed by a Belkan Drone Bomb… The 1st Fleet reports just Three ships are left, suffering heavy fire under Captain Reaver's command. Admiral Damien's fleet is barely holding the line with nine ships and will commence firing at the port-side Cradle in twenty seconds."
Clutching onto a handrail as another cannon volley shook the Ashura, the lieutenant gave the final bit of his report, "Enforcer numbers down to Forty percent combat capable. They've suffered Forty-Five percent casualties so far. The Strikers… still missing."
Biting back the very real urge to drag Admiral Williamson back from the dead to kill him again, Clyde began to consider all the options available to him… to win this horrible battle. But his brilliant mind was failing him. With the numbers he had, there was still no way his men could take out the remaining Cradle, even if Admiral Damien succeeded in his strike.
Deciding he needed a better view of the situation, Clyde pushed past his protesting, concerned subordinates, climbing painfully up the debris to get to his ruined bridge.
A lookout standing in the remnants of the Ashura's bridge screamed, "INCOMING!"
The Cradles had begun to concentrate their fire on the Ashura once more, and forty cannon rounds zeroed in on the mighty ship. To save their commander, the two attendant D-Class warships of the Ashura moved to intercept the oncoming attack head on. Clyde could only watch with grief tearing at his heart as the two vessels and their brave crew went up in flames and began their final descent to the earth below.
A kilometer to port, Admiral Damien fired his flagship's Arc'en'ciel cannon into the targeted Cradle and began its inevitable destruction, but not before it belched out an undercharged Main Cannon Round into the ground, burning nearly all the remaining Enforcers and Knights.
Clyde could also see the faint glow of the sole surviving Cradle charging up its horrendous weapon. The weary admiral let his head droop. They were finished.
PING
Jerking up, Clyde saw a shield appear over the Cradle's stern, right where it's reactors should have been. All at once, his personal communications came alive, "Hello- this- Strike- Delta 18. We'll break a hole for your Admiral, so pound these bastards to hell!"
Nine tiny figures appeared over the crest of the Cradle's stern, drawing a storm of physical and magical attacks as they went. The surviving elements of the Striker Teams maneuvered with incredible skill around the Cradle's furious defenses, striking out with everything they had, battering the shield till it cracked… and broke.
Sensing their last mother-ship's vulnerability, every last Belkan Drone Bomb, over four hundred in all, hurled themselves at the Ashura.
No matter how fast Clyde could have magically unlocked his ship's main weapon, he would not have been able to destroy the Cradle for two Bombs had slipped past the point defenses, and slammed straight into the ship's main weapon array. Their last trump card was gone.
Or was it? Clyde jolted in realization that his LS-Class had three super-reactors that could together yield a blast equal to that of the Arc'en'ciel. His vessel obviously needed that sort of power. Fumbling for the self-destruct keys, Clyde made a magic connection to the ship's main computer.
Self-Destruct mechanism offline…
Auto-Pilot module severely damaged… unable to compute courses…
Shit! Of all the rotten- Clyde's stomach grew cold as a feeling of something otherworldly overwhelmed him. He knew what he had to do, but it was not something that anyone would have liked.
He needed to ram the Ashura into the heart of the last Cradle.
"Admiral! Are you alright?" Chirped his communications link to the commanding Striker, "Do you-"
"I'm so sorry soldier." Clyde grit his teeth, "But I need to ask one last thing of your men… break the Cradle's armor plates so I can crash this ship into it."
"Sir!" Cried the lookout, "That'll be suicide!"
Clyde bit back the tears; the lookout was right. None of the Strikers would get out alive if they turned back to strike the Cradle. And neither would the crew driving the ship.
"Understood Sir." Were the last words that the Striker said, his- or was it her- voice, Clyde could hardly tell over the background noises, full of duty suppressed anguish and purpose.
Nine once retreating Mid-Childan soldiers hurtled right back into the thick of the fray, and began blasting with wild abandon, drilling a hole into the Cradle's stern. The first one to die, was hit by a lucky defense cannon attack.
The second, had been stabbed by two Wolkenritter, but had valiantly taken the enemies down in a final violent explosion of magic.
The third and fourth sacrificed their lives to keep the endless hordes of Belkan Combat Cyborg at bay and went down fighting.
Fifth, continued to shoot at the Cradle even as the Cyborgs tore at his body.
Strikers six to eight took down as many defense emplacements they could to allow the Ashura as much a chance in reaching the enemy vessel.
And as the other elite mages fell around her, the last Striker had finished her most potent spell, and cast it into the heart of the Cradle as the Cyborgs reached her.
Letting the tears flow freely over the lives of so many men and women that he had sacrificed, Clyde whispered to the lookout, "Tell everyone to abandon ship… that is an order."
"But-"
"I'm not going to let you all die with me." Clyde stared the man in the eye, "Go."
Shoulders sagging in defeat, the lookout saluted his admiral, "What shall I tell Admiral Lindy?"
Stiffening for a moment, Clyde found himself surrounded by the memories of his wife. His children. His life.
"I died for our people." Clyde whispered, "But you must live for them and show them the love that made us so great… Tell her that word for word."
The lookout accepted the final mission given by Admiral Clyde, and left.
Using his magic to take control of the ship, Admiral Clyde Harlaown pushed the vessel's power output far beyond its red-line. The Ashura shot off like a bullet on its final run.
Immediately, all nearby Belkan units had begun to converge on the Ashura desperately trying to save their precious Cradle from destruction.
In the final few seconds of his life, Clyde idly wondered if this war could have been avoided if he'd been careful enough to prevent the death of his dear friends. To avoid all the suffering and hell that had occurred in the past nine or so years. To have a happy and carefree life with his family.
The Ashura's badly deformed prow smashed against the barely repaired bulkheads of the final Belkan Cradle, immolating itself with the barrier. Moments later, the Mid-Childan Flagship had reached the Belkan Cradle's Reactor Core.
Clyde knew his time had come. I love you Lindy… Chrono… Fate… Nanoha… the list was so long, and so many of them were in a place where he would never go… in peace and paradise.
Being a stupid pessimist again aren't ya Clyde The man was flung into the Reactor room by the impact, and he was sure the concussion was making him hallucinate.
You are not hallucinating my friend. Ah… Clyde could see them now… figures bathed in holy light. He knew them… they were old friends… people he had failed to protect.
You did what you could Clyde… now you must place you faith in them… in yours and our legacy. Clyde found himself face to face with Admiral Gil Graham.
Clyde wanted to argue. His wife was a strong woman surely, but the might of the Belkans was surely too much. One of his kids was also Takamachi's daughter, and no doubt all of his children were skilled, but they were but barely into their teenage years. He did not want them to see their childhoods destroyed by war.
We know that the trials they shall face will be great, sometimes overpowering… Was that Signum's and Hayate's father? But they will find their place… I know it.
It's what it means to have faith Mrs Takamachi held out a hand, beckoning Clyde to come.
And Clyde understanding their words grasped the hands of his fellow fallen titans… and left.
The Battle of Draco was notably the single bloodiest battle in the history of the Mid-Childa, and one of the most fearsome in Belka. Surviving Mid-Childans would one day recount tales of the merciless strikes of their Belkan enemies and the might of their war machine. The Belkans recalled the tenacity and courage of their Mid-Childan foes…
But above all else… The few survivors of that horrible day would recall it as:
The Day The War Should Have Ended
Mid-Childa
Overall Commander: Admiral Clyde Harlaown (Deceased)
Sub-Commanders: Admiral James Pierce (Deceased), Admiral Damien Wolfgang, Rear-Admiral Thane Gordon (Missing), Rear-Admiral Williamson Smith (Deceased)
Striker Forces: 32 (All Killed-In-Action)
Enforcer Regiments 30-45: 12500 (9056 Killed-In-Action, 2356 Wounded-In-Action)
Ground Mages Corp Division V-VI: 28700 (21007 Killed-In-Action, 7693 Wounded-In-Action)
Navy Corp: 9340 (7056 Killed-In-Action, 1140 Wounded-In-Action)
Flagships: Ashura (Sunk), Guardian (Sunk), Spearhead (Sunk), Steadfast (Sunk), Theodore (Scuttled)
Fleet Vessels: 68 (49 sunk, 6 scuttled)
Defense Cannons: 12 (All Destroyed)
Belka
Overall Commander: Mistress of the Night Sky Yagami Hayate (Paralyzed and Retired from command)
Wolkenritter: 124 (118 Killed-In-Action, 6 Wounded-In-Action)
Knights Battalions I-X: 11020 (8011 Killed-In-Action, 1989 Wounded-In-Action)
Imperial Navy Corp: 6700 (6645 Killed-In-Action, 55 Wounded-In-Action)
Flagship: Fiery Dawn (Sunk)
Fleet Vessels: 4 (All sunk)
Drone Bombs/Units: 12000 (All Destroyed)
Combat Cyborgs: 5400 (3925 Destroyed, 16 scraped)
Outcome
Pyrrhic Mid-Childan Victory
Aftermath:
The Battle of Draco was followed by the Great Omen of Draco; the furious fire caused by the Belkan Cradle attacks that burned what remained of the city to the ground. All attempts by the Mid-Childan forces to douse the flames proved futile, and the pyre burned itself out after a week, leaving the scorched remains of earth and life.
Having lost Thirty percent of their fighting capacity, with considerable takings to defend, Belka's blitzkrieg was ground to a halt, and a tense stalemate ensued. All told, Belka had lost a quarter of their Cradles, due to the Battle of Draco. The Wolkenritter losses also cut their elite Knight numbers down by a tenth.
Mid-Childa had however, suffered far more harrowing loses for the victory they pulled against the Belkans. The loss of so many good Admirals and ships left the Navy in complete shambles. Half of the Enforcer Regiments had been annihilated. The Ground Forces could barely hold in a fight with Belkans when they had superior numbers. Only Three Striker Platoons were left.
Neither side was in any condition to push at each other with force.
Thus their Cold War began.
Belka sent its dreaded cyborg spies into the Mid-Childan cities to gather information and destroy key assets when the Belkans were ready to invade again. Belka's 'newer' variants of the Combat Cyborg were to be feared more than the soulless abominations on the battlefields.
Programmed to be capable of faking any emotion perfectly, these machines could be anywhere, striking at any time, and they could be anyone. A street beggar, a popular politician, a best friend… a lover.
In the meantime, Mid-Childa embarked on its most ambitious attempt to undermine the Belkan forces; Operation Cloaked Dagger. A fair number of the many war orphans held by Mid-Childa had been borne of less than savory unions- unwilling unions. But it also meant that some of these children had Belkan blood and magic in them, which suited the Mid-Childan Special Operations Command just fine.
They would gather a few, strong magic users, train them up in Belkan Magic, insert them into the orphanages of Belka, and watch as the war machine picked them into the fold. Then, when the time was ripe, these agents would give their lives to kill any target from Belkan Nobility, to its future Knights, or if fortune favored… The King and Queen.
Twas in the midst of all this, the new generation of Mages and Knights… took flight.
From the Author: Well... that's all for this installment of Harlaown's Legacy. And to leave you all with a small teaser, the next chapters of this particular story are; "Blazing Stars, Roaring Thunder" and "The Mid-Childan Stinger"
This has been a sad chapter for the characters... but there is a saying; "What goes down to the ground... can be forced six feet under as well"
Hope you liked reading this story, and the next chapters will reveal themselves sometime at the year's end with the next Code Geass installment.
I'm off for another journey! Ciao!