The fleet Commander was supposed to be watching the match between Gloriana and Oarai. However, she had gotten bored, and knowing the reputation of the Nishizumi family, had decided to get back to reading her most recently selected novel.
It wasn't that she didn't think that the Panzer battles were interesting; it was just that she found reading to be a much more enjoyable pastime. As such, she spent a large amount of her time reading.
A fact that thoroughly annoyed her Lt. Commander.
"Commander," the she started, "Can you please at least try to seem invested in the match? It reflects poorly on the rest of us if you don't. They already say that you would rather read than command!"
Without looking up from her book, the Commander said "But I would."
Sighing, and feeling one of those headaches coming on, the Lt. Commander massaged her temple and said "I know. However, I would prefer that the rest of the Navy didn't!"
The Commander turned a page and began her reply, "Well, there's your problem. You care too much about what 'the rest of the Navy' thinks."
Her second began to argue, but was cut off by the Communication Officer's cry of "Commander! Gloriana was taken out!"
Nonplussed, the Commander continued reading, but responded with "I'm not that surprised. They have too much confidence, and often overstretch themselves. Besides, Oarai has a Nishizumi on their team."
"But, Commander, Gloriana wasn't defeated by Oarai!"
This was enough to gain the Commander's attention.
"If it wasn't Oarai, then who was it? There were only two teams in this battle."
"I'm not entirely sure, the information that I'm getting is confusing." the CO said. "From what I'm being told, it appears that another group found its way onto the battlefield. However, there are only two of them."
"Gloriana is good, but it isn't unheard of that two tanks can take on an entire team."
"That's not it, Commander. I'm being told that it is only two ground units."
The Lt. Commander scoffed and said "There must be a miscommunication. Re-check what they said."
The Communications Officer shook her head.
"I did, Ma'am. They stand by what they said."
"But that's impossible," the Lt. Commander started. "Two ground units can't take on an entire-"
The sound of the Commander's book snapping shut cut her off. Both she and the CO turned to look at the Commander. She no longer had an air of lazy disinterest about her. Her full attention was on the Officer.
"Start from the beginning," she said. "Tell me everything."
Commander Darjeeling had no idea what was going on.
The match between Gloriana and Oarai had been going as expected, with Gloriana in the lead, but her team had come across two soldiers in the middle of the field.
One of them proceeded to neutralize the rest of her team, in a matter of minutes.
And the other… Oh god, the other…
The other had faced down her personal tank, in one-on-one combat and won. He had gained access to the tank's hatch, and gave the occupants a look at the face of a monster; a face that spoke of the horrors and atrocities it had seen, and the ones it had committed; a face that had seen Death itself, and denied it the pleasure of taking its soul, if it even had one; a face that promised a swift end to the life of any who looked upon it.
The face currently held a look of confusion and guilt.
It was the same face, but it wasn't. Where one was the face of a monster, this one was obviously the face of a man. He was a giant of a man, standing more than seven feet tall, but a man nonetheless. All the features were there, they hadn't changed, but the difference was like the difference between midnight and noon.
Once the soldier had seen the crew of the tank, a change had taken place, replacing the monster with the man. He immediately dropped his firearm, stepped off the tank, kneeled, and placed his hands behind his head.
Darjeeling hadn't moved in the few minutes since; no one had. She came to the realization that the rest of her crew was looking to her for what should be done next. Deciding that as the Commander, she owed it to the others to take the lead in all things; she started to move towards the hatch. Feeling her body was not responding as quickly as was normal, she took a moment to steel herself, and then quickly exited the tank.
She just stood there, for a minute or two, studying the soldier. She had known, on some level that he was a large man, but even then, her expectations were dwarfed. He was kneeling, and yet he still towered over her. His sheer size stunned her for a moment, but she continued her examination.
He had the look of a soldier: composed and alert, he held himself in a way that was straightforward, yet wary. But what gave away his time in battle was his scars.
There were so many scars; it was hard to believe he had gained them all and was still alive. His face was bisected by a lateral scar that spread from one cheekbone to the other, not to mention the four or five others that adorned his face; the scar tissue, on his hands, was thick enough that it seemed that his hands were entirely made of it; what other skin she could see, through the tattered holes in his clothes, was mostly crisscrossed by a lattice work of scars, of both treated and untreated wounds. Shaking her head in slightly fearful amazement, she kept looking him over.
She stopped when she got to his eyes. They were old and tired, so very tired. As if they had seen more than any one lifetime should, and yet they had to continue their service. There was a look of guilt to them that did not go unnoticed. She was astounded by how soft they looked. So very different than before. There was a light behind them that hadn't been there when-
She shuddered at the recent memory.
As if he could read her mind, he chose that moment to speak up.
"I'm sorry for scaring you. I didn't know that you were just kids."
Darjeeling was taken aback by his voice. The deep, basso rumble fit someone of his size, but the hesitant tone did not. It astonished her that someone that large, someone who was so capable of violence, could have a voice that was so gentle.
His voice shook her from her thoughts.
"I want you to know that I don't plan on resisting. I mean you no harm. The only reason I… we attacked you earlier was because we thought that you were an enemy force."
"Be that as it may…"
She stopped as something he said clicked in her head.
"I know that you surrendered, but what about the other one? The sniper?"
The large soldier sighed.
"He might be a hothead, but he's observant. He will have seen me give myself up. He's probably doing the same now."
She searched his face for any sign of deception.
Finding none, she simply said "I'll take your word for it."
The giant gave her a weak smile, before seeming to steady himself for what he said next.
"I-I know that the captive asking questions is a little backward, but… where are we?"
Lysander didn't like his current situation.
He might be a little more willing to both start, and end, a fight than the next guy, but that didn't mean that he was willing to harm children.
He actually liked kids. They reminded him of why he had to do his job.
Being forced to engage them on a battlefield was something entirely different, something not within his comfort zone.
Lysander didn't like his current situation, at all.
He had had a bad feeling about all of this since he had woken up on the dry, dusty ground of the canyon.
And there was a large part of the problem.
The last thing that he remembered was that he was riding with Goliath, and the rest of Section Three, along a mountain road.
A snowy mountain road, high above sea level.
So why was he, currently, sitting in a canyon, with the scent of the ocean in the air?
The fact that he couldn't answer that question unnerved him. Now, normally, he shot whatever unnerved him. But you can't really shoot a feeling. At least, he hadn't figured out how to, yet.
No, he had to just deal with the sense of unease. And that was making him antsy.
Usually, that went away whenever he shot someone.
And that is where the other part of the problem came in.
The only people around were the ones in the tanks. The children in the tanks.
He had done some horrible things in his life, but he prided himself on the fact that he had never killed a child, during his service in the military.
Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair, and decided that he should probably go see what Goliath had to say about all this. In his experience, he had always known what to say to calm him down.
Getting up from sitting cross-legged, he dusted himself off, and leaned down to pick up his pack.
Looking around to find where Goliath was, he set off towards him, with a grimace on his face.
He definitely did not like his current situation.
Darjeeling could not believe her ears.
Was she supposed to believe that two random soldiers had managed, without knowing who, or where, they were fighting, to completely disable an entire squad of tanks?
"However," she thought, "if you had asked me, this morning, how an infantryman would fare against a tank, I would have laughed at the thought."
She looked, again, at the man's face, trying to see if he was lying. Again she found nothing that suggested that he was.
"Fine. I'll make you a deal: an answer for an answer."
"I can agree to that."
"Alright, then." She stood a little straighter before saying: "We are currently on the outskirts of a town called Oarai. I am Commander Darjeeling, from St. Gloriana's High School for Girls. My turn. Who are you?"
"Corporal Randel Oland, Imperial Army, State Section Three: Pumpkin Scissors."
"Imperial Army? I've never heard of… Oh, it's your turn isn't it, Corporal? Apologies."
The soldier gave her a kind smile, "It's not a problem. Um… this might seem like an odd question, but… what is a high school?"
The girl was slightly taken aback by the question.
"What is a…Hmm. Let me see if I can come up with a good way to describe it."
"Ah, sorry. I didn't mean to ask a difficult question. How about we skip that one for now?"
"That would… actually be helpful. Thank you."
The commander took a moment to try and figure out the best way to word her question. Not finding a better way than to be straight to the point, she chose to stick with that route.
"Are you here to invade?"
Randel seemed honestly shocked at the idea. It took him more than a minute to come up with his answer. The whole time Darjeeling was inwardly shaking in fear of his answer. "Even though he seems peaceful now," she thought, "I can't just forget what he was capable of doing."
Angling his head so that he could look her in the eye, he spoke with a sense of surety, in his voice, that hadn't been there earlier.
"My squad mate and I are here by accident. We do not mean any harm to you, and yours. So no, we are not here to invade."
The girl visibly relaxed, letting out a breath that she hadn't known she had been holding.
"That is a… relief. Thank you for that. I believe I owe you an answer."
"Ah, alright then. What are you doing out here?"
Before she could reply, a voice, one that was overflowing with annoyance, cut her off.
"I can answer that," its owner said.
Darjeeling looked up to see the sniper walk around the side of her tank, his rifle slung over one shoulder.
"They were playing a game."
A/N: Hi, CptDemos here. I, honestly, wasn't sure if I was ever going to get back to this, and yet I made no notice of hiatus, which was a really bad move on my part. I wish that I hadn't, but I can't change the past, so I'm apologizing. I'm sorry for never updating, as well as leaving anyone interested hanging, as to whether or not this would continue.
Now that the downer part is out of the way, I would like to say that this story will update on Tuesday's from here on out. Hopefully I can work on making the chapters longer, and a little more balanced between action and dialogue, but, unfortunately, the next couple of chapters are going to be pretty dialogue heavy.
Anyway, I hope you like the chapter. Look forward to more every week.
CptDemos