Disclaimer: FoZ/ZnT belong to the departed Noboru Yamaguchi and whoever inherited the I.P.. Any real life organisation/person is merely being used in a fictional non-profit way.

Author's note: Hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Biggest one yet that me and Trainalf pumped out.

Just in Case

Fouquet had lost track of time in her cell. It had been quite a while that she was stuck here. A dull routine had set in. The two men would show up every now and then. Each visit would have them bringing fine food and drinks, finer than what was usually pushed through the slot in her door daily, and news from Halkeginia.

The news wasn't pleasant for her to see. Usually, it was pictures (like that Tristain peacock of a noble had shown off) of other Reconquista spies, generally gruesomely killed or captured. Both mages and non-mages had fallen victim to her enemies' counter-espionage efforts.

Finally, a day came where the man was blunter than usual. "You know, our hospitality up to this point has been well-intentioned. You could have helped up and we could've helped you. But there's nothing more you can offer- we know everything there is to know about Albion and its spy ring has been dismantled. We have no reason to do anything but let you rot now."

It was the worst form of torture. To be caged in a cell without being able to escape. Even if it was a golden cage by the standards of Halkeginia.

Fouquet, once known as Mathilda de Saxe-Gotha, was stuck here, facing her own bad decisions. She realized there was no way to escape. She'd looked at every possibility, and there were none. And even if she could, what then? She'd never find her way home. Guilt overcame her but her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her cell opening. It was the usual pair of infuriatingly men.

"Greetings Ms. Fouquet," the dark haired one said warmly, carrying breakfast, "I hope you are doing well today."

"I am doing well," she answered. She'd started to think a lot in the past day or so. About what she had. About what she could do. About what she could say.

"Happy to hear that," the blond said, "Shame we can't say the same thing about Albion."

Her blood froze as she noticed no hint of deceit in his voice. Only cold hard truth. He produced more of those blasted pictures. To her horror, it wasn't dead spies… but Albion. A suffering Albion. Emaciated families, groups of people hanging from gallows and mass graves.

But it also indicated something else to her- these people had spies in Albion. And if they could get spies, they could get assassins and troops. That fool Cromwell's dreams and goals were doomed. Any reason she might have to hope for or aid in his success was pointless and gone.

"Really a shame what's happened in Albion, looked like a nice place to visit and do business," the same man sighed, "I hope you don't have relatives living there." She'd told them she didn't, but they still acted like she did, the bastards.

"Be a real shame if Cromwell decided to punish them for your failures," his companion added, "I hope-"

"Stop," she interrupted, barely blinking back tears.

"Excuse me?" the dark haired man was surprised at her sudden change in demeanour. He and his colleague had decided to give the woman one last shot at cracking her, just in case. And if they got nothing out of here, they'd move on to other captives. She'd go on trial and then spend the rest of her days here.

"I'll help you if you help me," she said unsurely, "You believe in good deals don't you?"

"Indeed we do." They hid their surprise behind years of professionalism. "But keep in mind that we already have gotten a lot of information from other spies. And we have our own ones in Albion now. We can only make a deal if you have something good to offer, and to be honest I don't think you do."

This put a damper on her hopes. Had she waited too long? Was there no chance left for her?

"I can become a double agent," she suggested, "In exchange… I want you to help me save my family's orphanage and Tiffania."

"An orphanage? And I assume Tiffania's a person?" the blond man asked, "That's a rather small demand Ms. Fouquet. Assuming it's true." He added.

"You must also understand that we can't also just trust you out of the blue like that after the stunt you pulled at the consulate," his colleague stated, "How do we know if you won't simply turn on us at the first opportunity?" She was silent.

"Who is Tiffania, exactly?" This is the first time they'd heard that name come up. "A daughter?"

"No." Their prisoner shook her head. "She's...half-elf."

"Half-elf?"

"My father served the Archduke of Albion and was one of his most loyal servants," the ex-thief explained, "Because of that, the Archduke entrusted him with one of his greatest secrets: he had an elven mistress."

"Elves and humans don't get along in your world, correct?" Harper asked, doubt evident in his voice.

"They do nothing but kill each other but somehow, the archduke fell in love with one. I do not much about their affair but one evening, my father met with his liege at our home."

"Go on?"

"I was not suppose to witness it but the archduke looked worried as he entered our home with a hooded child. My father seemed to understand what had happened as he led them into our living room. They spoke in hushed tones about a woman being killed and that the archduke's daughter was in great peril." she recounted sadly, "Father opened our home to her with no hesitation even when he saw her ears and raised her as if she was his blood as well."

"Was he not prejudiced against elves?"

"My father always cared deeply for children and could not stand to see one be harmed in anyway. Ever since that day, I believed that his hatred of elves was surpassed by his love of children. Perhaps it was out of loyalty to Archduke Francis." Fouquet continued, "He opened a secret orphanage on our former lands where his most loyal servants took great care of orphans. When Tiffania was old enough, we taught her how to take care of children. She does so in my absence."

Fouquet had to wonder how they were doing right at that moment. They were used to her disappearing for weeks and even months at a time, but it had been surely longer now.

Both agents looked at each other.

"So this Tiffania is important to you?" At last, they may have had leverage. Plus, this could be an opportunity to meet an elf. A breakthrough in their little shadow conflict and their cultural mission.

"I've seen her grow up. She's like a sister to me regardless of her blood."

"And yet you're an agent for a government that seeks to invade elven lands, is that right?" The agent made a jab that cut a little too deep. The green haired looked at the table in shame.

"I see," the dark haired man said, "But even if you told us that story, it's not enough for us to trust you as a double agent." Her heart fell.

"However, we can perhaps work something out in time," He told her noncommittally. "Deals take time in our world." Of course they did. These people had talked to the Tristainians for months without anything happening, and Fouquet had only just started wanting to talk.

"Since you are open to collaboration Ms. Fouquet," the blond man stated, "Is it really your real name?"

She shook her head.

"It was an alias that I used for my work. My name is in fact Mathilda of Saxe-Gotha."

One of the man scribbled down on a notepad. Something he would hand to the newcomers in Tristain as well… the British.

"Very well Miss Saxe-Gotha. What can you tell us about this orphanage and Tiffania?"

So Mathilda spilt everything about those. With as much detail as possible while both men carefully noted everything they could. Finally, she finished up and the two men left. They needed a map of Albion to situate the location of the orphanage.

"Think any of it was true? She's had months to come up with a story and rehearse it." Devers remarked.

"Beats me," Harper replied, " Our bosses'll want to know this though. We can figure something out as well."

Meanwhile, Mathilda looked at the door and prayed to Brimir that she had done the right thing.

"What do you think Louise?" Saito asked as he held a pen in his hands. Both of them were in her quarters at the Academy.

"You should read it again just to make sure it's good," his girlfriend said cutely as she sat up from the bed.

Hey everyone!

Thanks for the last package! I couldn't wait to get the new mangas that came out this season!

I don't know where to start from the last time I wrote you guys. There's so many things that's been happening here since I returned from Canada. Me and Louise have been doing well. I think her parents are liking me more and more ever since they talked to the Princess about our missions together. Louise says hi too!

Don't worry, I'm keeping up with my studies too. M. Ambroise and M. Fitzgerald have set up a system so I can get my education through self-teaching courses. Sometimes, I even learn a few things from them and their staff when they have free time!

There's more people coming to this world too. I don't feel so alone anymore. A lot of them come to talk to me. I'm really making a difference here though I can't talk much about it since it's top secret missions. Some of them are really fun to be around and others are… serious. Still, I got to attend meetings and banquets with Louise. I hope you liked the pictures of me in my new clothes that I bought!

I hope that things settle down soon so that you can visit us soon! Thanks for understanding my choice.

Love Saito and Louise

"I think it's perfect," Louise said before realizing she had forgotten something, "Can you ask them to send us the next volume of that manga I like?!"

"Toradora?"

"Yes!"

Saito took a glance at his new watch as he scribbled down a few extra lines.

"We gotta go! It's almost time for your class with M. Colbert!"

"Y-yes," she stammered, blushing, "Did you really think I'd forget something as important?"

Both quickly gathered their things before heading to Colbert's classroom. As they entered, they saw the other students in Louise's year such as Guiche, Tabitha, Kirche, Montmorency and Malicorne but there was also a pair of scientists from Earth, their clothing standing out as much as Saito when he first showed up.

The class went smoothly, with Colbert talking about the various application of Fire Magic, chiefly other than in warfare. To finish off his class, he revealed a small little machine and using his magic, he started a small fire that heated the machine to produce steam and move a piston. Most of the class wasn't impressed save for Kirche, Saito and surprisingly, the Earth scientists. Saito decided to go see the Fire Mage after class. Colbert was standing at his desk, discussing with the two scientists.

"This truly impressive Jean," one of them said warmly, "We certainly didn't expect to see steam engines here."

"Steam engines? It sounds as if they were common on Earth, Arthur," Colbert replied.

"They've fallen out of use to be honest," another one said honestly, "We've replaced them with more powerful systems."

"Really Benjamin?" the Fire Mage sounded almost disappointed but his fellow scholars shook their heads.

"Indeed but without the steam engine, much of our world wouldn't be the way it is," Arthur replied, "Keep up innovations like this though, and our worlds will end up very similar eventually."

Colbert beamed.

"Perhaps would you like to visit my workshop and discuss more about this 'steam engine?"

Saito cleared his throat, catching the three scholars' attention.

"Ah hello M. Hiraga, Lady Vallière," Benjamin greeted, "How are you doing?"

"You managed to understand that chemistry book I lent you," Arthur asked Saito quickly.

"We are both fine," Louise answered, "As for the book, it's more complex than we expected but it's very fascinating how chemistry works."

The studious mage had enthusiastically dug into the books that Saito had gotten from Earth, wanting to learn more about his world.

"Isn't this exciting?" another voice purred in.

"Oh hey Kirche, how are you doing?"

Louise was now glaring at the Germanian girl as Saito and Kirche exchanged greetings. At her side, stood the always silent Tabitha, book in hand.

"Jealous," the blunette muttered flatly.

Saito gently squeezed Louise's hand and gave her a quick, reassuring wink while Kirche introduced herself and Tabitha to the professors. Once that was done, the group headed to Colbert's workshop.

"Not bad Jean," Professor Richer commented as he looked around the workshop, "It reminds a bit of my lab on Earth. A few additions and you can actually have something comparable to mine in fact."

"Thank you Arthur. I would like to know if you can get some of the tools you have on Earth. They could be useful for my experiments," Colbert said, "Speaking of which, you can maybe help me with my latest one."

"Oh, what are you working on M. Colbert?" Saito asked curiously.

"I'm happy that you've asked Saito," Colbert said as he picked a beaker fill with a slightly golden liquid, "I'm working on reproducing dragon's blood."

"Dragon's blood?" Professor Leroy's curiosity, "Can I take a look at it?"

"Here, feel free to see it."

Leroy turned the container around, swirling the the liquid a few times.

"Where did you get it Jean?" Richer asked as he eyed the beaker, "The color reminds of something I've already seen before."

His colleague handed him the container while Colbert began to tell his tale.

"It was almost a century ago when two dragons riders appeared in the skies above Tristain during an eclipse. The two appeared through our skies in raiments that allowed them to fly before one returned through the eclipse. The other was damaged and was unable to fly. It landed somewhere in Tristain according to the tales I've heard."

"What did these two dragons riders and their raiments look like Professor Colbert?" Louise asked.

"They had long green bodies with white underbellies," he continued, "Their wings or tails didn't flap and they growled as they flew."

"Do you think you could draw them?" Leroy asked. He had a nagging feeling about this.

"Yes give me an instant."

Colbert summoned a parchment and a quill and began to draw.

"This is rather exciting isn't it Tabitha?" Kirche asked enthusiastically.

"Interesting." the blue-haired mage replied impassively.

"Finished!" Colbert exclaimed as he held up the sketch. The three Earthlings' jaws dropped at the same time.

"No way," Saito muttered, "Is that-"

"That's a plane alright," Leroy said in shock.

"Plane?" Colbert asked, "Like your world's airships?"

"Exactly," Richer said as he opened the beaker, "And if that's a plane then this isn't dragon's blood, it's kerosene."

He waved his hand over the beaker before sniffing the air over it.

"Yes, this is definitely kerosene. Still potent too," Richer noted, "Did you use magic to preserve it?"

The Fire mage nodded.

"The merchant had a preservation spell cast on it."

"Do you know where this plane landed?" Saito asked Colbert, excited at the prospect.

"The legends say that it has landed near the area of Tarbes."

"Tarbes?" Louise looked pensive for a moment, trying to remember where she had heard that, "Siesta is from Tarbes! Maybe she's heard of it!"

"Hmm, perhaps we can have an expedition instead of a class to recover this relic!" Kirche suggested, "It would be so exciting!"

"Ahem."

"Benjamin?" Colbert asked.

"Here's the thing though: If that is a plane, I doubt that it would be usable," he remarked, "Nearly a century means that the thing would have rusted away unless if someone used magic on it. Honestly, if it was built around that time, I personally don't think it's even safe to use."

"Why?"

"Planes were largely experimental in our world a century ago. They didn't work that well at the time and accidents happened a lot because their inventors and creators were still trying new ideas," Leroy explained, "Still, I'd like to find out what happened to that pilot."

"Would you return him home the same way as that soldier?" Colbert asked. Both Canadian professors nodded.

"An expedition could be arranged but I'll have to clear it with my superiors," Richer said, "It'll take a while though."

"We'll also have to get permission from the military as well," Leroy added, "Maybe get an escort just in case."

Saito's letter was only brushing the surface of what was happening though, for even he didn't know everything. There were a lot of new people coming into Tristain. A LOT of people, and not just diplomats and soldiers anymore.

The wall had come down on economic restrictions, and cross-world trade was starting to take off. Businessmen from Earth had been coming into Tristain frequently the last few weeks alongside an increasing amount of scholars. And they must've gotten something done, because now the roads around the Academy were filled with carts going towards the portal rather than cars and trucks coming from it. A lot of merchants had set up little shops near the portal, eager to convince the authorities to let their product through. It was pretty much its own little trading outpost.

There was also a little bit of importing going on too, although the balance was highly skewed. Currency exchange was still an issue. The Tristainian nobles were getting American and Canadian paper money and willingly hoarding it in anticipation for the many wonderful things they thought they'd be able to buy. So far, many of them had spent that money importing some of the delicicies they'd tasted during the banquet, but there'd be more interests in the future. Even Henrietta had gained from lands under direct control of the crown. Not much of it had trickled down to the commoners as either Earth nation had hoped; there wasn't as much faith from the lower classes about this paper money or stuff they could use it for.

The economic boom didn't mean the number of diplomats and soldiers had gone down in Tristain. Actually, it'd increased. The Americans and Canadians had sent close to 200 military engineers over with vehicles to construct a base they'd agreed on with the Princess, as well as lay the groundwork for what would be the official two embassies. All three would be build exactly like on Earth. The electricity issue would be solved with a mix of solar panels and some heavy duty generators. It'd mean a constant need to transport fuel across the border, but they could make it work. Close to a decade of fighting terrorism in countries without infrastructure had really improved knowledge and methods.

All of them were combat engineers and, of course, armed. Many of the vehicles they were using had at least machine guns… some even carried heavier weapons like the MK-19 and even a handful had TOW launchers. The Americans- members from a US Navy Construction Battalion- had also brought two helicopters with them, detached from an active fleet: MH-60 'Seahawks' as they were often called, multi-role helicopters.

Officially, they were there for transport duty and could be seen most days flying pallets of supplies over Tristain to the coast. But they were also an armed variant of the aircraft, something the Tristainians hadn't been informed of, mounting an impressive collection of firepower each in the form of side mounted MGs and four Hellfire missiles underneath.

It was just a emergency card the Americans had decided to keep up their sleeve. They really were there to help construction, but in a pinch they could be used for anything from extracting vulnerable hostages or combating a sudden threat. They just wanted the means to keep their people safe. Just in case.

The Canadians had brought in their CH-146 Griffons, descendants of the venerable UH-1 Iroquois, affectionately known as the Huey. They served as utility helicopters, ferrying men and material to the various constructions sites. Though lightly armed compared to their American counterparts, their machine guns or miniguns still brought respectable firepower to the table. They were there for the same reason: just in case.

But it was not just American and Canada in Tristain anymore. The United Kingdom had finally sent over a formal diplomatic party to discuss trade and diplomacy with Princess Henrietta, although they were still far behind their allies in terms of progress. The truth was, the US and Canada had already tied into Tristain's existing economy; what was available for export was already being exported to those two countries. Unless the Tristainian economy expanded, the US and Canada more of less had a monopoly on otherworldly goods. And selling stuff meant going through Canada. It would be a while before any other Earth country got as involved.

Trudeau had held meetings with Philippe Couillard, the Prime Minister of Quebec, and his cabinet as well as Montréal's mayor, Valérie Plante. Obviously, Montréal had changed as a result of the increased traffic between both worlds. The city's urban planners and engineers were pulling their hair out of their heads trying to renovate the aging city's infrastructure while the provincial Ministry of Transport was trying to improve the leading roads into Montreal. At the same time, the Federal ministry of Transport was working overtime to renovate the key road and rail bridges in the region.

All of this to keep the new trade routes as oiled as possible… and just in case if trouble came knocking on the door.

"Tonight, we inaugurate a new era in fine wines!" an announcer declared as butlers entered a luxurious conference room at the Palais des Congrès in Montréal carrying bottles, "Wines from the vineyards of Tristain!"

After months of hard work, the Société des Alcools du Québec (Alcohol Corporation of Quebec) had been able to cut a deal that was profitable to them as well as the Tristainian nobles. Tonight was the result of such efforts. The fine wines were to be unveiled tonight as the corporation stockpiled enough of it to begin selling it as a high quality, artisan product in high class restaurants and select branches. Select people had already sampled them and found them to their taste.

Many chefs and sommeliers had waited impatiently for this evening, the expensive tickets having been sold out, simply to sample the new wines.

The sound of wine being poured into glasses filled the room and very soon, it was replaced by praise. The present chefs and sommeliers talked about how the wines would be used in their fine restaurants.

The following days, articles came out about the new wines in newspapers, cooking magazines and websites while being the talk of the day on various cooking shows whose hosts had been present. The wines began to arrive in the most high-end of the SAQ's branches with wealthy customers waiting for them. And money started flowing into Tristain.

The United Nations had also finally got involved, as Trudeau had predicted near the start of affairs. Because of that, a convoy of white and blue jeeps with the UN logo stamped on it arrived at the Royal Palace of Tristania.

Henrietta and her Regency Council were nervous in meeting the UN representatives because of what they had heard from the ambassadors and the American and Canadian leaders. They had heard both good and bad things about the United Nations, some of it contradictory.

"Good day your Highness, I am Jean-Charles Lejeune, Special Envoy of the Secretary General to Halkegenia," the white haired man said formally as he and his retinue bowed before Henrietta.

"Greetings M. Lejeune," Henrietta replied, "I welcome you to the Royal Palace of Tristania."

"Thank you your Highness."

The group was led to the Regency council where the UN representatives were introduced to Henrietta's council before explaining their presence.

"Our presence here, most esteemed member of the Regency council, is to evaluate if Canada and the United States are treating you fairly in dealings. The United Nations have been worried that they have been abusing of your trust and have sent me to make sure that it is not the case. Just in case that is true, they will face severe sanctions."

"Sanctions?" Henrietta asked, stunned.

"Yes, abusing another nation's trust and manipulating them to become a puppet is an extremely severe crime in our world." Lejeune explained.

"Well, you need not worry M. Lejeune," the princess said, "The Americans and Canadians have been a great help to us."

"Do tell me," he asked politely, "The United Nations wants to know."

"Very well, they have supplied us with considerable economic aid," she stated, "Many of their agricultural experts are working with our scholars to help increase crops for the next harvest. They've also made trade agreements with us."

Lejeune was scribbling down everything.

"Any military aid or presence?"

"Yes, they have agreed to sell us wood for ships at a bargain price."

This wasn't truly military aid in Lejeune's mind.

"And have agreed to establish a training camp on our lands."

Training camps weren't unusual either

"Excuse me, M. Lejeune?"

It was Richemont.

"Since you are here, I have a question that I have long wanted answered," the Justice Minister said.

"Go ahead Minister."

He nodded.

"Is it normal in your world for diplomatic deals to take so much time?" Richemont asked, "The Canadian and Americans have been discussing with us for months before anything came out of those talks."

Lejeune didn't seem to be surprised at all.

"It is quite normal that deals take time to negotiate. Even the United States and Canada have had treaties and agreements that took years before they were signed." Lejeune explained, "It's because both sides need to agree on mutually beneficial terms."

Henrietta couldn't help but look smugly at Richemont who looked like he swallowed a very sour lemon.

"If anything, that proves their goodwill as they are looking to find mutual benefits."

"So what exactly is the mandate of the United Nations?" Delage asked.

"I am glad that you've asked First Minister," Lejeune answered, "The United Nations is an organization that englobes all of the nations of Earth. Our task is to promote international cooperation and maintain international order."

"But we are not on Earth," Archduchess Marianne asked, "So why are you present?"

"Since at least two nations on Earth have been dealing with you, we consider that it is necessary that we take a more active role in Halkeginia. We seek to extend the same guiding ideals on which the United Nations have been founded to your world in the goals of bringing peace and prosperity to both Earth and Halkeginia."

"This is truly a noble goal M. Lejeune," Mazarin stated, "And one I'm sure you'd find support for. Is there anything that you require from us to achieve this?"

"My team and I would like to start with a tour your lands," he stated, "In order to make sure that the United States and Canada are honoring their promises."

Arrangements would be made for that in the coming days, but the North American nations were moving faster than the UN observers.

The Tristain-Gallia border was always fairly busy with traffic at the main crossings. But it also had the problem of being highly corrupt on the Gallian side. The Mad King was not very good at reigning in his nobles. According to what Canada and the US understood, he was either uncaring or too plain insane to control his nobles.

It was at the crossing on this day that the party of Tristain nobles and troops gathered on one side was larger than usual, which in turn caused the number of the Gallian side to increase. The Tristainians were just here to protect their all but official allies. The US and Canada had decided to expand their diplomatic efforts in Halkeginia, a change brought on by the fact they were becoming far less inconspicuous in their presence and that there was only so much they could learn about this world in Tristain.

So it'd been decided they'd reach out to both bordering countries' leaderships. Without direct communications and because the countries of Halkegenia didn't believe in embassies and permanent diplomatic staffs, they had to do it indirectly. The plan was just about the same as it'd been at first contact- they'd send a their own people back with a message.

There weren't any plans to contact Romalia yet. There was no direct land route to take, and no one from Earth was confident enough to sail over the oceans. There was no way to guarantee safe passage yet.

A finely dressed Gallian noble arrived on his horse and dismounted.

"What is the meaning of this?" he asked his men imperiously, "Why have I been summoned?"

One of them bowed in respect.

"My lord, the Tristainians claim that they have met with new nations and that they wish to speak with his Majesty. These nations' envoys wish to speak to you."

The man grumbled in annoyance but curiosity had gotten the best of him. He had heard strange rumours from travelling merchants about these people without magic who allegedly came from the other side of a portal that had appeared in Tristain. What nonsense.

But there was too much consistency to ignore, and they all told the same thing: Tristain was changing. The nobles were making many deals with these people, giving them the fruits of their labor and land in exchange for exotic goods. He'd heard soldiers from this world were even there now! It sounded like the Kingdom had gotten new masters, and that was cause for worry. What could they possibly want with Gallia? He had to find out.

"His Majesty, King Joseph, has very little precious time to speak with upstarts!" he stated, "But I will meet them. Led me to them!"

"Yes my lord!" the man bowed as he led his lord to the border where black horseless carriages awaited alongside the Tristainians and men dressed in simple, black clothes. These were the envoys? It was almost insulting for the noble to speak with such plain people. The newcomers bowed respectfully before the Gallian lord.

"Greetings, we come from Canada and the United States of America," one of them said, "Our leaders have sent this message of goodwill to his Blessed Majesty, King Joseph de Gallia, in the hope our nations may one day build up an understanding and mutual cooperation with one another."

He handed the noble a pair of letters with elaborate seals. After a few moments, the noble looked angered… and tore up the letters.

"You only seek to vassalize us!" he shouted, pointing at both representatives, "Like you did to Tristain through false promises and lies! Guards!"

His guards lowered their weapons threateningly. The Tristainians border guards did the same in response.

"Gentlemen," one of the envoys said calmly but firmly, "Please calm down. If His Blessed Majesty's servants knows that he is not willing to speak with us then we shall not insist. We are open should he choose to discuss with us."

"Our king is no fool! Do not think we will forget this obvious attempt at our Kingdom's sovereignty!" The Gallian noble sneered.

"It is a shame that you believe such a thing," the envoy said politely, "But we will not bother you any longer." The American and Canadian left quickly to defuse the tensions, although the Tristain and Gallia troops would stare each other down for the rest of the day.

Both countries agreed mutually to hold off on diplomacy with Gallia.

Their attempt to open relations with Germania went much more smoothly.

It was another day in the Imperial court of Emperor Albert III at Vindabona. The tanned, blond-haired young man was overlooking a map of his Empire in his office. It was a game of making sure that the various realms and lords of Germania would be strong to be of use to him without them becoming strong enough to overthrown his family's control of the Imperial Throne. The usual game of a Emperor.

A knock on his door interrupted his musings.

"Enter!"

His chamberlain entered and bowed before him.

"Your Imperial Majesty! I bring news from the border of Tristain!"

"What is it Johan?" the young man asked with a commanding tone, "Are the Vallières and Von Zerbst quarrelling over the borders of their lands again?"

"No, your Imperial Majesty," Johan grovelled, "We have more news about that mysterious portal and the world beyond it." Like Gallia, merchants had also carried world to this land. Unlike Gallia though, there was a lot more intrigue.

"Tell me more then."

"The lands from beyond that portal have sent envoys that wish to speak with you, your Imperial Majesty," the chamberlain reported, "They have begun to cooperate and trade with Princess Henrietta and Tristain. They would like to extend the same courtesies to us, it seems. They are asking permission to enter our lands."

Albert III silently cursed the now-deceased Wales. If it wasn't for that infuriating prince's interference, he would be the one in control of that mysterious portal and he would be the one trade with them. But that opportunity seemed to have come back to them.

"They may come to Vindabona to talk with me then. This should be interesting." More trade was always good, but his true curiosity laid in the land these people came from and the people themselves; many of the whispers said his people and theirs weren't too far from similar.

There could be great things to gain here.

The familiar sound of truck engines resonated through the streets of Montreal. It was a common sight for the inhabitants by now as troops and materiel moved to the Jeanne Mance Park. It was either destined for the other world or for guarding the portal. Lieutenant Huynh could only groan in annoyance as he heard another familiar sound from his university days.

Student protesters.

He could also hear the sound of the riot police containing them. The sound of truncheons hitting shields as the police officers sought to intimidate and quell the protest. Taking a glance at the source of the sound, Huynh could see the riot police having formed up in a shield wall a few blocks from them with the protesters trying to advance through the wall.

"Go get a job you fucking losers!" Brisebois shouted next to him before Huynh nudged him.

"Don't bother, no one in their sane mind would hire a pink haired dress-wearing freak that doesn't what gender it is," Huynh commented, "Ignore those SJW shitheads. If they're not complaining about Tristain and us helping them, they'd be complaining that we're training to kill babies."

"Sir, I'm still impressed you went to that same university," Brisebois said while some of the other soldiers were yelling insults at the distant protesters.

"I'm still impressed I haven't punched one of them in my time," the lieutenant chuckled when a bang went off, "Fuckin' hell, looks like they pissed off the cops!"

"I wish we could give'em a hand… holy shit it's the cavalry!" Brisebois exclaimed as the Montreal police's cavalrymen rode past them.

'Better the police then us,' Huynh mused while some wise guy hummed 'Winged Hussars'. He honestly didn't want to deal with protesters since he wasn't trained or equipped for this. Pointing a C7A2 in some SJW's face would be asking for trouble and all it took was a slippery trigger finger for shit to hit the fan.

The other reason was that some of his former friends were in that crowd. It was one thing to face an enemy combatant… it was another to face a friend protesting because of conflicting political views.

"Think the Americans have to deal with idiots like that?" another trooper asked, "Students causing shit like that?"

"Oh yeah!" Huynh exclaimed, "I'm sure a bunch of Antifa morons decided to burn a campus somewhere."

Ever since the attack on the Consulate and the subsequent deployment of Canadian and American troops, debates flared up about Imperialism. There was a fear amongst certain circles that Tristain was being taken advantage of in many countries.

That had led to protests that sometimes soured into violent riots. Like today as the sound of sound grenades and firecrackers clashing in the distance could prove.

But there were people on the other side too; you just had to look on the internet to find them. There were people who thought they should plow ahead with learning about this world. And a few, probably Americans, calling for a straight up war against Albion. 'Democracy for all' and stuff like that. They were nearly as bad as the lefties.

But man, was it a fun shit show watching both sides argue.

Heated debates had also taken place in the Canadian Parliament with Trudeau and the Liberals facing off against the opposition led by the newly minted leader of the Conservative Party, Andrew Scheer and his counterpart, Jagmeet Singh of the New-Democratic Party. Both men had gone on national media to denounce Trudeau's decisions around Tristain. Scheer viewed it as a waste of Canadian taxpayers' money that could have been better used to help Canada while Singh argued that they were meddling in another nation's internal affairs when they shouldn't. Other provinces were also complaining since it meant that federal funds were redirected to Quebec rather than them, the old rivalry between the Anglophones provinces and Francophone Quebec being stoked.

It was business as usual in Canadian politics.

For all of that, Trudeau wasn't concerned about the dealings in Parliament… but more about the latest report from the joint efforts of CSIS and the CIA that he was reading.

For the first two months, the reports had been about spies and both intelligence service's attempts to help Tristain improve theirs. Capturing the foreign spies hadn't actually been that hard, since they seemed to have just delivered themselves directly to the cooperating nations. They'd caught around 30 in all masquerading as merchants and commoners, easily half of them from having the poor judgement to snoop around their posts with written orders on their persons. It was clear they were still attempting to spy on US and Canadian interests. It was troubling to say the least, and probably played into how heavy handed their efforts were getting in the new world.

Nothing like the consulate attack had been repeated though. One had died beneath the wheels of an SUV trying to rob it like a carriage. Another had fallen into a trench and broke his neck trying to sneak into their new base during the night. Another had gotten caught on barbed wire and set off a flare before being captured. They were overt flops that gave both countries reasons to waggle their fingers at Albion, but not actually a cause for war, thankfully.

Reports of spies had all but disappeared from the bi-weekly dispatches. They were fairly certain they'd disabled a least one spy ring in Tristain but kept their eyes open, just in case. It was too easy so they presumed it was chaff that wasted time and efforts to cover for something bigger.

Corruption was also suspiciously absent, and the Princess had reported that the coffers were suddenly fuller than ever. And not a single person had been charged. Albion may not have been afraid of them, but some people certainly were.

So now the reports were focused solely on information about the wider world there. Mainly Albion and the other nations in Halkeginia. Getting eyes into Albion was difficult and limited. There were no communications to tap into, no satellites to spy with. Everything was being done the old fashioned way- by people. Second hand talk and rumors, plus what they could gleam from the Albion agents they'd already managed to assist in the arrest of. Field agents had snuck into the floating island nation and taken pictures of what was happening… and it didn't look good. The number of dead was actually pretty alarming- at least 40 000 dead already in Airlann, a region apparently unloyal to the new leadership...

And the other news the intel people brought back was… troubling. Massacres, filled prisons, kangaroo courts and executions were commonplace as Cromwell and Reconquista sought to consolidate their grasp on power. Even the Army and Navy weren't safe as their generals and admirals were scrutinized for treason, certain men using the whole situation to get rid of rivals. It all was uncannily similar to history's worst regimes, and the few that still remained in modern day!

The reports on the other nations wasn't as alarming.

Apparently Gallia was fearful of them, but there was no sign of a desire for war for now. Good thing too, because a war would destroy everything that had already been accomplished. No, the nobles of that Kingdom just seemed to like making disparaging comments about Tristain and them. Intentions for diplomacy were still very much there, they'd just decided to wait a little while.

Germania, on the other hand, were surprisingly open. An Imperial envoy had arrived at the consulate with news that Emperor Albert III was willing to discuss with them when he would have time. Trade was on the table, with the Germanians being reputed as fine metalworkers. Romalia was still a distant prospect but the agents were on the lookout for a means to open communications. Both countries were aware of the importance of religion in Halkegenia societies. With that in mind, good relations were a must if they were going to be permanently interacting with it.

Trudeau's office phone suddenly rang as he was still reading the reports.

"Yes?" he asked, "What's happening?"

"M. Prime Minister, we've just got news from our joint training base in Tristain."

The Prime Minister remembered that today was the day when Henrietta, her Regency Council and the Ambassadors were to visit the new facility. It wasn't complete yet, but nearly so. Some of the personnel from each country that would be stationed there had already arrived.

"It's under attack."

"What?!" The attack against the consulate four months ago was still a raw occurrence. Now they had another attack on one of their buildings?

"The report just came through. National Defense Headquarters and Minister Sajjan are monitoring the situation and we're already in touch with the Pentagon."

Earlier that day

The 'Defender' was flying through the skies, her crew on the lookout for any unknown ships flying through Tristain's air space. Everyone had warm clothing on since it was winter… though it was far milder than a Canadian winter! As it turned out, Halkeginia was a few months ahead of Earth in terms of seasons. The portal had appeared in late spring for them while it was mid-winter for Earth.

The frigate was part of the meager Tristainian Navy. On board, there was a joint American-Canadian team of observers, here to not only gauge what the Tristainians would benefit from learning now that the training facility was nearly done, but to document how aerial warfare was fought in this world.

Just in case.

"Unidentified vessel spotted!" one of the lookouts shouted, alerting everyone, "Bearing, 1-3-5!"

The captain of the vessel, Louis-Philippe Armand de Boeck, a young noble and Wind Mage, raised his telescope to the coordinates. This is was one of the new techniques that his Earth instructors had taught him in the two or so days they'd been here. Him and all the other young nobles on the crew.

"Is that ship a friendly?" a voice caught his attention.

"No, Lieutenant-Commander Reynolds," de Boeck answered seriously, "It is not flying any familiar ensigns and it's within our borders. I suspect it's a pirate or smuggler's ship. Every man to his post!"

The Defender's crew unfurled its sails, increasing her speed to match the escaping ship. Meanwhile, the captain used a spell on his voice to amplify it while the Canadian and Americans contacted the base via radio to warn them of the situation.

"This the Defender! You are currently trespassing over Tristainian lands! Stop immediately!" he demanded, "Or be prepared to be boarded!"

"She's got a lead on us!" the first mate reported, much to de Boeck's displeasure, "We can maintain the pursuit however."

"Curses!"

Lieutenant-Commander Reynolds looked over to his American counterpart, Lieutenant Caroll.

"I think I have an idea," the American suggested to Reynolds and de Boeck who pressed him to continue, "If the Defender can get close enough, my marksmen can maybe disable her steering and sails."

"My crew and ship will do what is necessary to stop this ship!"

"Very well," Reynolds said, "Caroll, think your boys can bag'em?"

"Oh yeah," the American confidently nodded. The observation teams hadn't come unarmed- they'd come with sailors trained and verified for boarding operations. Over the last few months, Tristain had been worked into the US and Canada's normal anti-piracy efforts. Aside from the flying, mediocre quarters and worst food, and exotic views, it wasn't really that different from the African coast.

One of the sailors propped a rifle on the bow of the Defender, an M-107. An anti-material rifle, it had a long serving history of disabling pirate and drug boats on Earth, and the Navy knew how to use it. The wind battered the crew, but they could adjust.

De Boeck was skeptical about the otherworldly musket, despite its massive size. A loud, almost cannon-like sound thundered from where the Earth sailor and musket was followed by cries of surprise.

"The ship's main mast has collapsed!" the First Mate shouted in disbelief. "It just came apart in the middle!"

"Impo-" the captain stopped his sentence as he saw the smuggler's ship lose speed and part of its main mast falling out of the skies. Another pair of shots rang out and he saw parts of the rudder explode in fragments. He gawked at the sight, then at the musketeer, and finally at the otherworldly officers.

"Not bad M. Caroll," Reynolds commented, "Captain de Boeck, I believe you should be able to catch up."

"Y-yes. Ready the boarding parties!" He ordered, shakily. The airship pulled in closer to the disabled ship as men prepared to lay planks and throw grappling hooks they could use to get across. Musket fire was exchanged as well, desperately trying to thin down the other side's ranks. A broadside from both ships thundered over Tristain, grapeshot and cannon balls tearing through the lower decks. The Defender fared better, the new wood used to refurbish her hull stopping part of the broadside and splintering less. However, the screams of the wounded and dying proved that a few men still fell on both sides, but neither was about to put down their arms. The Earth sailors readied their rifles and machine guns, just in case, but stayed at the back of the ship.

The Americans and Canadians had strict guidelines for engagements. They could repel boarders, but they weren't allowed to board other ships. So they stayed and watched as the Tristainian crew boarded the rogue vessel. What they saw just on the deck was hideous. Clashing swords, men crying and screaming, a few from both sides even being knocked over the edge by Wind spells or pushed overboard and plunging down towards the land below. Muskets and pistols fired every now and then. Small explosions resonated as both sides used small bomblets to scatter the other while Water mages put any fire they could, blasted anyone unfortunate enough with water blasts and patched up anyone they could. It was a messy affair as some even slipped on the bloody decks.

"Jesus." The American officer muttered. You didn't see shit like that on Earth. RPGs and maybe little boats loaded with IEDs, but not this.

His Canadian counterpart nodded in agreement.

The battle eventually moved below deck. The sound of metal hitting metal only proved that no one dared to fire a weapon or a spell, fearing hitting flammable material, powder stores or the precious Windstones that kept the ship aflight. Finally, an older, bloodsoaked Tristainian sailor returned to the Defender. He saluted the captain with a dirty hand.

"Captain de Boeck, we've secured the smugglers' ship" he reported tiredly, wiping sweat off his brow.

"Excellent work!"

"We've already started to search the ship for anything valuable," he continued.

The captain nodded when Reynolds cleared his throat.

"Once the ship is secured, we would like to join in the search," the Canadian suggested.

"I will authorize your request." He agreed.

The Captain and observation party crossed one of the gang planks. Boots squelched in the mess that had become the deck of the ship. The observation party were doing their best to step around the muck when their host noticed something.

"Come over here!" De Boeck exclaimed as he pointed to a charred corpse lying to a badly burnt man groaning and twisting in agony.

"What is it?" The Canadian naval officer asked, surprised.

"I think it's the captain of the ship and that's either the First Mate or a 'ViP' as you would call them." He pointed to the suffering man. Then he knelt down and reached around the dead man's neck.

"Look at this necklace!" He hissed, pulling it and the man up. The charred head fell off.

"Captain De Boeck! That is unnecessary!" Carroll shouted angrily, "Looting is unacceptable!"

"This man isn't a pirate! He's worse then a pirate!" the noble shouted, "Only a spy would have such a necklace!"

"A spy?"

The captain drew his wand, pointed it a the necklace and began to chant a spell. The necklace began to glow green, much to the shock of the observers.

"A fireball like that would never have left a piece of jewelry intact except if it was enchanted." De Boeck explained, proud that he knew what the outworlders didn't. He let go and let the corpse fall to the deck.

"Do spies usually have enchanted jewelry?"

The captain nodded.

"Yes, they use them in various ways. Like recording messages and conversations or as a means of locating secrets left behind by other spies."

The Earth sailors were still skeptical, but then a Tristainian sailor came running out from below deck. "Captain! Captain!" He ran up, clutching an envelope with paper stuffed haphazardly into it. There was also a journal as well.

"Look what we've found!" He handed them all to his Captain, who started going through them before handing them to Reynolds whose jaw dropped as he began to read. He handed them to his companion.

"We need to radio this in."

A group of carriages was making its way to the new training base, carrying the Princess of Tristain, her Regency Council, Louise, Saito, and some of the Kingdom's top military officials. They had received an invitation to visit today since it was well underway. Henrietta looked out the windows and could see how things had come along. To her surprise, it was quite large and expansive.

What had been an empty stretch of coastal plain just 3 months ago was now bustling with activity. Trenches had been dug into the ground while bunkers and pillboxes had been set up around the perimeter. Barbed wired had also been strung around the perimeter. Old fashioned in terms of fortifications, but it would work here. Watchtowers had also been built and were permanently manned.

Behind all these measures to stop people was a collection of buildings, some built close to the water including structures where an airship could dock. Tall metal antennas and dishes had also sprung up on the more modern buildings. Despite all of this, there was still construction work as dozers and other heavily vehicles moved around. Henrietta was awed at the sheer scale of things; most noble manors would be dwarfed by this! Her musing was interrupted by one of the other occupants of her carriage.

"That's a helicopter!" Saito exclaimed happily, watching as the airborne vehicle in question came to land somewhere behind the other buildings. Henrietta, and many Tristainians for that matter, had seen them flying in the skies the last few weeks.

"Amazing," Louise said as the carriage came to a stop and the passengers began to disembark. As they did so, they recognized both Ambassadors Ambroise and Fitzgerald standing with their guards in front of the main entrance. A gate had been lowered while they all assembled.

"Good day to you all," Fitzgerald greeted, "And welcome to Joint Base Clément-sur-Mer."

"Thank you Ambassador Fitzgerald," Henrietta replied politely, "We look forward to visiting this base."

"I hope that the roads were not too difficult?" Ambroise asked as they were led through security, everyone being allowed to keep their wands, swords and pistols. Trust had been built up over the past months This area hadn't had any towns and so no roads existed. The Americans and Canadians had built their own, all the way to the existing paths.

"Not at all," she replied, "Your men have built excellent roads."

"I'll be sure to tell them," Ambroise replied as he noticed something, "Where is Minister Richemont?"

"He had an emergency," Henrietta explained, "His men have found a spy ring recently and he investigating whether or not Count Mott is their leader."

"Count Mott?" Ambroise asked, stunned. "The man who was first sent to Canada?" Henrietta nodded.

"It's probably nothing." She said. "Mott is a boastful man, but I believe he is loyal."

"It would be quite a shame if he were a traitor," Fitzgerald said politely. Word of this would have to go to their intelligence agencies to verify. They'd gone over Tristain's nobles with a fine toothed comb and found nothing. So far.

"What exactly does this 'Joint Base' have?" asked General Arnold-Henri du Poitier, commander in chief of Tristain's armies, as he glanced around the unfamiliar setting.

"Many of the necessities our armies uses in our world to fight," Ambroise explained, "And some that'll be of use to you. I believe that Colonel Roberts will be here soon to explain."

"Is Colonel Hamilton joining us?"

"I'm afraid not, although we may see him- he is in command of this base now."

"Really?" Admiral de Châteauneuf seemed surprised. "I thought it would be that fine officer we met at the treaty signing."

"He's here, but he'll be leading the training team. Our leadership just decided Colonel Hamilton would be more proficient at managing the base as a whole since he is from the Army."

"Hey no introductions for me partner?" A voice barked as the introductions and inquires finished.

"Did that sword just… talk?" Ambroise asked, slightly stunned as he saw Derflinger pop out of Saito's scabbard.

"Indeed I did!" Derflinger exclaimed, "Pleasure to meet you."

"Ah yes," Saito said, embarrassed, "This is Derflinger, my sword."

"Greetings M. Derflinger. I must admit that this is the first time I've spoken with a sword," Ambroise replied, surprised.

"That's ok. My pleasure to meet me you M. Ambroise! Partner and pinky told me about you and Earth."

"Right." Colonel Roberts seemed to get over the shock first. "Let's start the tour then."

The reality was this base had been built with more than naval training in mind, just in case. It had the facilities necessary for command and control of a large number of forces. It had a secret prison and offices for the intelligence agencies. Maybe a quarter of the barracks had been built for native troops- the rest were meant to house conventional ground forces from earth. There were plenty of places within the fence to store supplies and heavy vehicles.

Room had even been left to expand; there was still plenty of undeveloped land on the plot that could have more barracks built on it. Or even a small airstrip for aircraft. The MPs would still patrol the entire length of the plot of land as if it were part of the base itself. This wasn't so much a training center as it was a foreign base.

Just in case.

But the official story was it was a training center, so that's what they were told. It was a lie, but it was a lie in the benefit of both Earth and Tristain. They were led by Colonel Roberts who explained the basic functions of the different buildings, most of them being similar. Building styles might change but function did not. The man stood out as he spoke with the Tristainians military officials, his CADPAT combat uniform clashing against the more pompous garb of Tristain. The sound of vehicles and construction mixed with explanations for many of the equipment present until they arrived at a building near the center of the base.

"This is our command center," Roberts explained, "From here, we can coordinate all of the base's forces. Shall we enter?" He led them inside. "This place will be our greatest aid to your forces, Princess. From here, we can detect airships off your coast and around your borders. If we can set up the proper communications, your troops will be able to react faster than any other on the continent."

Men and women were either moving around with paper in their hands or sitting in front of screens or another devices, some having headsets on them. Only Saito, Louise, and Henrietta knew that though; the rest were at a loss as to what the boxes with moving pictures were.

"Whoa, do you have radar now?" Saito suddenly asked while Louise looked at him curiously. The teen was gawking around the large room. It was like the war movies he saw on Earth.

"That we do M. Hiraga," Roberts answered.

"What is 'radar'?" Du Poitier asked, "Is it a weapon of some kind?"

Roberts pondered for a moment.

"It is a weapon of information. It is what allows us to locate anyone flying or sailing into Tristain."

"How does it work?" Archduchess Marianne asked as she tried to make sense of the activity in the building.

"Quite simple really," another voice interrupted. It was Colonel Hamilton. He was hunched over over of one of his subordinates who was operating a radio, "Radar sends out invisible beams of energy that detect any solid object that's in range of it."

"Greetings Colonel Hamilton," Henrietta said warmly.

"Greetings your Highness, your Majesty. I'm quite happy that you've just arrived along with everyone since I've got important news for you."

"Oh?"

"The Defender has reported that they've captured an Albionian smuggler ship. Our men on it just sent the information." he stated, "They've also found a spy heading into Tristain. They'll be bringing both here sometime in the next hour."

"I see." Henrietta nodded gravely. The rest of her entourage looked aghast too. "It is fortunate we are here to deal with it."

"But how did this news reach so quickly?" Du Poitier asked, stunned, "Were they near here?

"No, General, this is an example of their communications ability," Delage explained. "They can talk over great instances instantly, without need for messengers."

"Remarkable…" Anyone could see what use something like that could have to an army, "What about those… airships?" They had time before the ship would arrive. The Tristainians were still burning with curiosity.

"Helicopters you mean?" Roberts asked, "They're there for transport purposes mainly though they carry some weapons to defend themselves."

Du Poitier could understand the validity of armed transports. Pirates, mercenaries and privateers were an issue on the coastline, especially since the fall of Albion.

"Speaking of which," Hamilton asked, "Are pirate raids and smugglers a worsening issue?"

"Yes," the general nodded, "Ever since Cromwell took power, the Albion navy has ceased enforcing security and we have heard that he has released the smugglers and pirates that the Tudors imprisoned in exchange of their fealty. Ships from all the other Kingdoms have been getting preyed on with increasing frequency."

"We understand," Roberts sighed, "This situation happened a few times in our world as well."

"I see. How much do you want for this 'radar'?" Delage asked. This was suspiciously similar to their spy hunting efforts- they'd gather the information, then tell the Tristainians about it. And just like spy hunting, obviously they just wanted the means to get the information themselves instead of having such valuables in someone else's hands.

Concerns about the power these people held over them were not gone, not even close. If anything, it'd increased.

"That is not something anyone here can answer," Fitzgerald said politely, "Our governments are limited by treaties in our world that makes it difficult to sell weapons and military technology."

"Your world has… strict treaties," Mazarin noted, "Does it not make it difficult for diplomacy?"

Both ambassadors shook their heads.

"Not for long standing allies. Someday, maybe our countries will be there." Ambroise answered.

"This is a lot of aid you are giving us for free…"

"By our standards, it isn't actually that much. Most of our soldiers on Earth help other nations by providing them information and tools they can use to win their battles." Fitzgerald explained, "Or by providing relief efforts during crises."

From what he was saying, they summarized the US and Canada would do everything they could to help fight Albion short of actually using their own troops.

"Ahem, euh excuse me?" Saito piped up, "Colonel sir?"

"Yes M. Hiraga?"

"Do you think you could give them a helicopter ride?" the teen suggested, "It could be very informative for them." The colonel's face was expressionless- military bearing and a kid speaking out of turn.

Saito couldn't help himself. Truth be told, he always wanted a ride in a military helicopter.

"Perhaps we can show them," Roberts suggested, "If any are available." The instructions were to be reasonably open with the locals to keep them assured. And amazed, if possible.

"Very well," Hamilton relented, "I wish you all a good day since I have tasks to attend to. Give me an instant to see if one is available."

The American colonel summoned one of his staff members with a flight schedule before confirming that some helicopters were on standby. Roberts led the Tristainian party out of the command center and back into the bustling base. They couldn't help but noticing some of the troops' activities. Some were expected such as eating food while others ran around the grounds.

they could also hear gunshots in the distance.

"Can we also go see your gun range sir?" Saito asked enthusiastically.

"I'm afraid not since my men are currently using it for drills," Roberts answered seriously as he guided them to the helipads. The fact was, they were being told to keep their firearm technology as under wraps as much as possible. As they arrived, they saw two large airships. Now that they were closer, the Tristainians could scrutinize them properly. The American one was grey and slightly bigger than the Canadian's green one. Both had large doors on their sides and very utilitarian seats inside of them. They also had some of the outworlders' strange larger muskets installed on sides. The American one was resting on wheels while the Canadian one had skids.

"These are the MH-60 Seahawk and the CH-146 Griffon helicopters," Roberts explained, "Both of these superb machines have served us well in the last conflicts our nations have been involved in."

"Impressive," Du Poitier commented as he looked at these helicopters. They weren't as big as airships, certainly, but they seemed to move a lot faster.

"Indeed, would you like to sit inside ours, General?" Roberts suggested, "The invitation is also for her Majesty and her Highness."

"I suppose." The man admitted. "I must say, I didn't expect there to be seats here."

"Can I sit in the cockpit?" Saito asked quickly but the colonel shook his head.

"I'm afraid not." he answered seriously, "The pilots wouldn't appreciate it if you accidentally hit a button you shouldn't."

"Indeed, we wouldn't."

Everyone turned their attention to the source of the voice. The Tokyo teenager recognized the man's uniform as being the one of a pilot. The red Maple Leaf betrayed his origins. Another pilot stood next to him.

"Our girl here doesn't like strangers playing with her controls," the pilot continued, "But we won't mind letting you inside of her passenger compartment. Colonel, may we?"

The Colonel nodded.

Saito was disappointed he couldn't see the cockpit but could understand the man's reasoning. Everyone started taking turns getting inside the CH-146. When Saito touched the frame, his runes began to shine.

"What the?" one of the pilots asked as he saw the shining runes.

"Euh… Those runes shine whenever I touch a weapon meant for fighting," Saito explained nervously as he entered the helicopter, "They allow to master any weapons instantly."

The pilots looked at the colonel who kept a straight face.

"This is just like the movies!" the teen exclaimed as he got behind one of the door mounted miniguns, trying to defuse the situation. His runes were still shining.

"I think you should let your girl there try it out," the pilot quickly said, pointing to Louise.

"Oh ok." Saito reluctantly got off the mounted weapon and helped his girlfriend get into place.

"Go ask one of the intel guys to come down here." Roberts whispered to one of the MPs escorting him. After everyone took turns getting inside the helicopter, Roberts assembled them and was about to lead them elsewhere until an alarm blared out in the base, startling everyone.

"Attention. All personnel are to report to combat stations! This is not a drill! I say again, this is not a drill!" Louise was scared; it sounded just like the alarm at the embassy.

"Saito, what's happening?" She instinctively grabbed his arm.

"I dunno!" he said worriedly, eyes darting around, trying to understand what was happening.

The sound of boots thumping against the ground filled their ears while personnel rushed to their station. An MP ran up to Roberts.

"Sir, Radar's picked up an unidentified ship heading towards the base!" he reported, "Colonel Hamilton wants the VIP's to be taken to one of the bunkers!"

"They sure it's heading this way?" He asked, motioning for everyone to move.

"Making a beeline straight for us sir!"

"Are we under attack?" Archduchess Marianne exclaimed, her shock being shared by her party. They had drawn their wands and both Henrietta and her mother had pulled out their scepters as well. Saito, despite Derflinger's protests, didn't pull out the magical sword.

"We're not certain yet but we'll get you to a safe spot just in case!" Roberts said as he led them to a trio of newly arrived G-Wagon's. They were being loaded into the jeeps with Henrietta insisting on being the last one in before her guards. Her Regency Council and especially her mother was insistent in getting her inside though.

"Agnes and my Musketeers will assist you Colonel Roberts!" Henrietta suggested as she got inside but the colonel shook his head. At the same time, the helicopters were powering up.

"That's negative your Highness!" Roberts said, "We'll be able to handle them without risking your people!"

"But-"

Henrietta was cut off by the closing door.

"Your Highness," Saito piped out, after catching his breath, "They'll be able to handle them."

"How?" Louise snapped, "They have no mages!"

"So? I still took down that golem and Fouquet and I'm not a mage!"

"Y-you know what I mean!" she stammered, "They're not you and Derflinger!"

"But the-"

"Please calm down both of you," Henrietta ordered, earning a thanks from the driver, "Where are you taking us?"

"We got orders to get you to the command center. Safest place on base! You'll see how everything's going down as well!." the driver answered hurriedly as he drove swiftly through the chaos.

As the two carriages sped through the base, they could see other vehicles driving quickly by them or soldiers running to different places. Some were climbing ladders to the roofs of buildings and towers. Others ran in groups towards trenches, mortar pits and fortified positions. Every one of them had donned combat gear and carried their guns. Saito occasionally commented on how cool those weapons looked, much to Derflinger's displeasure.

"Come on partner, give me some credit!"

"Don't worry Derf! Guns are cool but there's none that can talk like you man!"

The driver and gunner shook their heads and couldn't help but wonder why did they do to get stuck in the same car as a pair of mouthy teenagers and a talking sword.

Finally the convoy came to a halt. As soon as the doors opened, the passengers were ushered inside by some soldiers, much to the protests of Agnes who insisted on fighting alongside them.

"Please Agnes, follow their orders." Henrietta demanded as they entered the building. They were lead to the same room where they had met Colonel Hamilton earlier.

"Ah your Majesty and your Highness," the man greeted, looking remarkably calm. "You are all okay?"

"Yes, thank you Colonel," the archduchess said, catching her breath, "What is happening?" In response, the man pointed up to a large screen. Part of the base's CCTV system was locked on a shape that had appeared above the ocean and was growing bigger as it came closer.

"It's coming from Albion," the Colonel explained, "and it has been maintaining its course towards us. It isn't flying any identification."

Admiral de Châteauneuf had a hand on his chin as he looked the screen.

"It would appear to be a frigate," he stated.

"What are her capabilities?" Roberts asked.

"30 guns and a complement of 400 men." the admiral explained, "Most will probably land when they'll reach us."

By now, the ship was over land and began to lower its altitude, crossing over a nearby forest.

"We've already asked them to stand down but they are uncooperative."

"Excuse me Colonel," General du Poitier asked pompously, "But may I take part in the battle alongside Chevalier de Milan?"

"Hopefully there won't be a battle. We'll try and warn it away. But if not, our forces will deal with it. You can just stay here, sir."

"That's an airship!"

"Yes and?" the colonel asked nonchalantly, "We can deal with an airship, General." He pointed to the screen. "Just watch."

The base, in total, had around 300 combat troops on it from both countries. Most of those were Combat Engineers, and the others were Military Police. All were well trained and there were more than a few veterans who had fought in Afghanistan and Iraq among their numbers. The engineers had manned the same fortifications they'd built in the past months and the MPs had taken position at all the entrance gates. The helicopters had already taken off, loaded for bear.

The pirates confidently landed, just a bit out of range for the base's weapons. Their ship had taken off, her cannons ready to bombard the outworlders fortress. They'd been told that this place had a great number of riches in it, riches they were eager to claim. They suddenly heard a strange chopping sound above and looked to the skies. They saw strange, podlike airships of which they had never seen before rise up from within the base and high into the air. Some circled well above them, demanding their surrender.

Fools.

Nevertheless, the raiders pressed on. A loud roar of wind caught their attention as they saw a massive plume of smoke streaking through the sky from one of the otherworldly airships towards their ship. Before the ship could react, the object had hit it head on.

The object exploded in a ball of fire before, so quickly some of the men with poorer eyesight didn't notice it, the ship itself exploded in one colossal fireball as gunpowder and other flammables went up in flames. Burning wood, cannons and screaming men fell from the skies as the ship shattered in midair. What powerful magic had wrought this?

Their surprise had been replaced by anger and a burning desire for revenge. And so, their leaders urged them forward, yelling. As they got closer however, they heard gunfire. How was it possible? They were still out of musket range right? The shots were few but their effects were devastating.

Leaders fell before they could cast any spell as their heads violently exploded suddenly in showers of gore with each shot. Suddenly, the shots began to multiply at an alarming rate. Streaks of lights flew towards them and cut down men with impunity while bombs whistled as they fell from the skies and detonated amongst them. As they got closer, the land between them and the base was open save for rolls of metal. Some tried to move them but cut their hands on the metal while others were cut down as they went through gaps. The enemy's weapon fire only grew more intense as they drew nearer.

More airships appeared, fire being unleashed from their sides that corralled the raiders towards the base.

For the Earth troops, it was little more than target practice once the order to engage had been given. The enemy was unable to return fire. Snipers in the watchtowers took down anyone that dared encourage the pirates forward while machine gunners and riflemen emptied belts and mags into the enemy. Mortarmen ran through their firing procedures, readjusting their fire every now and then, shifting to new coordinates called out by their comrades. Helicopter crews carefully flew circles above, providing support and avoiding aerial collisions.

Inside the command center, Colonel Hamilton watched everything with an almost bored look as the battle progressed; the officers on the field were handling it so well he needn't do anything. He had already contacted his superiors on Earth about the situation and sent a warning to the incoming Tristain airship. Months of response exercises and often attempted intrusions by spies as well as experience had made them as well oiled as possible.

The Tristainians couldn't make out many details beyond streaks flying towards the pirates and explosions, but they'd all seen the ship go up in flames with a single hit, and to say they were stunned was an understatement. All they saw was a carnage, an unholy play, not a battle.

"T-this is not war! This is butchery!" Du Poitier exclaimed as he watched horrified at the sight.

"General, in our world, we seek to destroy the enemy as swiftly and efficiently as possible, Hamilton replied nonchalantly, "That is how we fight our wars and design our weapons."

Henrietta and her Regency council kept their facade but were horrified at what they witnessed. Louise did her best to avoid tearing her face away from the screen, her pride not wanting to cower in front of the horror before her. She had already seen the Staff of Destruction but it was against a golem… not actual humans. For Saito, it was like watching a war movie… though it was far more brutal than Hollywood ever could manage.

After what seemed to be hours, the fighting stopped. In truth, it had barely been less than an hour, barely half an hour even, since the airship had first appeared. The American and Canadian troops had neutralized the last hostile combatant and secured the area. The first action Colonel Hamilton had in the entire affair was ordering containment in case the fire from the crashed airship became a problem.

The troops were cleaning up the battlefield and rounding up any unfortunate surviving prisoner. Some had dropped and played dead with the hope they wouldn't be targeted. A lot of them had died in mortar blasts, but a few hadn't and it was these stunned survivors that would be taken for interrogation. One or two were weren't dazed tried to flee on foot into the woods or anywhere else. None could escape the eyes in the sky or outrun the outworlder's carriages and were caught too. All in all, exactly 18 pirates survived the battle in various states of injury and were brought back into the base. More specifically, its prison.

Cardinal Mazarin had insisted on seeing the dead and dying to administer their final rites. A small comfort after the carnage they had endured. Henrietta and her mother had demanded that they assist in healing the injured prisoners. The colonel relented as he wanted to get these men patched up so they could be interrogated and it would allow his men to see how Water magic worked for healing. The intel personnel had been advised as soon as possible and were already in the medical center, noting how everything went down.

Saito and his runes had slipped beneath their radar for the moment.

The Tristainian military personnel had gone to the battlefield to witness the impact of Earth's weapons, Agnes having remembered her visit at the Canadian War Museum. It was one thing to hear it… it was another to witness it. The American and Canadian soldiers were didn't appear unfazed by the carnage, some even mocking the dead and captured, much to her shock.

"Think you could have gotten us that easy you dumbasses?" one of the Americans jeered at a brooding man being escorted away.

"Look at this guy! Fuckin' pussy was wearing silk man!" another exclaimed, prodding a dead pirate.

"You serious man? Fif!" a Canadian remarked, "Even my sister doesn't wear that shit!"

Some even laughed, much to Agnes's shock. She and the rest of the Tristainian military leaders held their tongues, not wanting to insult their allies. She would have to discuss of this with her Highness. It was utterly barbaric for her to witness.

They finally returned to the command center, escorted by their guards. As they arrived, Colonel Hamilton was putting down a handset.

"I've just notified my leaders of our victory," he reported to the gathered people, "They're relieved that everyone's safe."

"Yes...well...your soldiers certainly performed admirably." It was all they could say. After what they'd just witnessed, much of the Regency Council was still at a loss for words.

The Defender returned triumphantly from its patrol, smuggler ship in tow. But it also arrived on alert; the Tristainian crew had learned about not only the attack, but the Princess' being at the base. So obviously they were trying to look good. But they arrived to a battle long over and a pirate airship turned into a smoking heap on the ground.

However, the prisoners they had taken would look extremely good. As well as the captured ship. The two ships touched down and the nobles and the North American observation party departed from the Defender, their commanders impatient to meet with Colonel Hamilton. The search of the boarded ship had revealed something very important.

The two commanders and both Colonels were in Hamilton's office. The Tristainian Captain had gone to meet with Henrietta personally.

"This is what we've found," Reynolds reported as he handed them some papers clearly from Halkeginia. Colonel Hamilton's expression became much graver. as he went through them. One was a diagram and crude map of the base. One was a written description of what a US or Canadian soldier looked like. Another was written in English (or Albion): a guarantee of payment a large sum of gold in exchange for raiding "the outworlder's airship base". There was also a letter saying that Henrietta and her regency council would be at the base today.

"So it seems that Oliver Cromwell has found out about our little operation and wanted to attack us with proxies," Hamilton said as he read the papers.

"The people back home aren't going to like that," Roberts added, "The spy game is one thing. This is entirely different."

"This is an act of war Roberts," Hamilton stated.

"We've also found potential information about another spy ring," Caroll said as he pointed to a journal, "I don't know if the intel guys know about it though."

"We'll hand this to them as soon as we can."

"What about the spy?" Roberts asked, "Did you capture him?"

Reynolds shook his head.

"He was on the deck when the engagement began… got hit by a stray fireball and burnt to a crisp. We only recognized him because of his necklace."

"I see. Any other ViP's?"

"We got their captain. Man was next to the spy. He's in bad shape with some nasty burns since we think that fireball that got the spy was meant for the captain instead. The corpsman patched him up though," Caroll briefed, "We should be able to get something out of him eventually."

"We'll let the intelligence agencies pick him apart. Right now, our concern is that this base and all our men are being purposely targeted." Hamilton stated.

"We can ask for additional reinforcements. Albion did escalate and threatening us directly with military action can justify more troops for us." Roberts pointed out, "We both know how President Trump works."

"Will your government be willing to send any more?" Hamilton asked.

"I'm certain of it. The Prime Minister will not take kindly to this."

"Good." Hamilton stood up. "I send in the after action report and the request. We're going to be busy for the next few days."

In another room, Henrietta and the Regency Council received the news too. Shock was spread across all their faces. All of them, except for Henrietta.

"How could they have known?!" Du Poitier exclaimed as he digested the news.

"They mentioned capturing spies around here. Perhaps they missed some," Delage noted, "Let us hope that Minister Richemont has found what he was looking for."

"Maybe the spies are part of that group then," Marianne said.

"At least we've know that they can help us in battle," Du Poitier remarked as he thought back to what he had witnessed earlier.

"This attack isn't something they'll take lightly," Mazarin noted gravely, "Will they commit to more aid for us? We are still a small nation compared to them."

Henrietta cleared her throat, catching their attention.

"We have nothing to fear from them," she declared firmly, "If anything, this only proves to them that Reconquista is a grave threat."

"Anyone that messed with the Americans on Earth, it always ended badly for them," Saito pointed out, "So if anything, Cromwell's done for."

The Regency council couldn't but shudder involuntarily. American fury was scary.

The sound of a door opening followed by a light chuckle caught their attention.

"I must say M. Saito," Ambassador Fitzgerald said smiling, "You always seem to know how to put fear of the US into people's hearts."

Saito stammered while the man still grinned

"Ambassador Ambroise told me what you said to them about my nation. It made my day."

"Greetings Ambassador Fitzgerald," Henrietta said with a bow, "Have you had news from President Trump?"

He nodded.

"Yes, my president is furious to say the least. He's planning on addressing the American people tomorrow morning."

"Would it possible for us to see or hear this address?" Mazarin asked, "Surely it must possible with your technology."

"Yes it would possible to arrange something." Fitzgerald finally said.

"Do we have word from Canada?" Marianne asked hurriedly, noticing M. Ambroise's absence.

"M. Ambroise is currently discussing with his prime minister. He should done soon but I believe that M. Trudeau is taking this very seriously right now."

"This world or that one, we will not be pushed around by criminals." Trump declared with cold fury. The Pentagon had announced the incident to the American public the night it had happened. The following morning, Trump stood in the Press Room to address the situation.

"We have been patient. We have held back and given Oliver Cromwell and Reconquista a chance for peaceful talks. These criminals have refused to explain their actions, refused to talk to us!" The cameras flashed. The reporters listened in rapt focus.

"These are not sensible people. Sensible people want peace and for their people to prosper. Our new friends in Tristain are sensible people! M. Trudeau and I have agreed to send more assistance to her Highness, Princess Henrietta as they have proven to be sensible people who understand how things should be done!"

"People have been saying we should stop. That we shouldn't get involved with this world. Those people are WRONG. This is a vital undertaking for our country, and for our world. There is a lot of good that can be achieved here for everyone. Already we're talking to many other nations in this world and it's looking like we can make a lot of good deals with them. Albion, this cruel and unjust nation, is the only bad guy in all of this."

"We have never bowed to foreign attempts to harm or undermine us, and we will not sit by and let travesties occur. Not Russia, not Syria, and not Albion either!"

As Trump's speech finished, Trudeau began his in Ottawa. Minister Sajjan had already informed the media of the attack yesterday evening but the Prime Minister had chosen to wait the next day to appear publicly.

"My fellow Canadians, as you may have already known, our training base in Tristain has been attacked by Albion," His tone was very somber and grave unlike his American counterpart, "It was fortunate that our brave soldiers along with our American allies have been able to stop this attack through their great skill. They are safe now."

Canada held its breath but knew what was to come.

"I am saddened that Albion has chosen the path of aggression rather than peace. Great things could have been achieved by humanity through peaceful means but Oliver Cromwell and Reconquista have chosen ignorance and aggression instead."

He paused before confirming what many was to come.

"In the coming days, the Canadian Armed Forces will cross the portal alongside the American military to protect the innocent people of Tristain to defend their right to sovereignty and self-determination. It is our duty as a free nation to help those in need. Therefore, we must act quickly so that Oliver Cromwell and Albion understand that the Free World will not stand for his aggressions."

The public and the rest of the world were going crazy over the speeches. The worries about imperialism intensified. Both countries were starting to think they'd get thrown into a war. This wouldn't be like the cruise missile strikes in Syria, they could just tell. The wonder, novelty, and utility of the new world was now being almost matched by a desire to leave it be just to avoid conflict.

Social media was flaring to life. Pacifists clashed bitterly with militarists while protests and counter-protests were called. Insults were thrown around like snowballs while pundits were already furiously preparing their shows and articles for the upcoming days as they knew that the prospect of conflict would skyrocket ratings and newspaper sales.

Even other nations were getting ready, just in case. Old allies pledged assistance, especially the British who were horrified that another Oliver Cromwell had been unleashed on an alternate Britain and seemed ready to reach their world too.

Old enemies condemned the situation with accusations ranging from undeclared invasion to false flag operation. Their delegates at the UN were already getting ready to voice their displeasure and wanted the UN to conduct an independent investigation.

The business and scientific worlds cursed Albion and Cromwell. There was still so much to learn, and still so much money to make. Both sides, one focused on profit and the other focused on the greater good, nonetheless came together to support a forceful response to save what had already been accomplished.

However, while everyone was arguing, the troops were already on the move, just in case.

Henrietta and her regency council as well as Louise and Saito were staring at Ambassador Fitzgerald's laptop. They were watching President Trump's latest speech. The man showed no hesitation, no fear… only pure anger. That American love of war showed again.

By comparison, Trudeau's speech was better received, being more reserved. Less anger and more regret. But it promised the exact same thing as Trump's speech.

Richemont was at his wit's end. These people could not be real. All they were doing, all they were risking for a nation and world they'd known less than a year. It was illogical. What reasons could it possibly be? Security? They were already so powerful! Trade? It could not possibly match what they were spending to be here. It was just impossible; these people had to have ulterior motives.

But the others held no reservations at all; they all seemed glad. The confirmation Albion was directly encouraging attacks against them now had blown over as near inconsequential.

"Excuse me Ambassador Fitzgerald," the archduchess said, "But is this a war declaration?"

The ambassador shook his head.

"No, this is an escalation for us. Our goal is to respond to Albion's aggression and make sure that they understand that we will answer to every hostile action they will take," he explained, "Declaring war is a very serious act in our world."

"But why are you sending your troops then?" Richemont asked furiously, "If not for a war!"

"When our allies are being threatened by their enemies, we send our troops to reassure them," Fitzgerald explained, "Just in case if anything happens, we'll be able to intervene swiftly to aid Tristain."

"This is an incredible act of charity." Cardinal Mazarin remarked.

"On the contrary, we have stakes in this situation as well," the American replied, "Reconquista takes that portal and we have a hostile nation on our doorstep led by a violent, fanatical and unpredictable man." He further elaborated. "You and your people are good people. Trade has been fair and we've learned a lot from each other. That is worth defending to us."

"Thank you Ambassador Fitzgerald," Henrietta said, bowing her head gratefully. Merely half a year ago her Kingdom seemed at the verge of existing. No allies, a hostile neighbor, an insufficient military and rampant corruption. What dark times those had seemed to be.

"I hope that our nations will continue to prosper together," Delage said as he looked back on those dark times himself. Now, many of the nobles had been swayed and quite a few commoners were happier. Corruption was at an all time low. The many Noble's armies had either grown or been requipped. Their Navy, while still pitifully small, had slowly gotten good ships and would be retrained before too long.

Truly, they'd benefited greatly from trusting these people.

"Our leaders believe the same First Minister."

The meeting soon concluded officially. Richemont left very quickly for his manor but the rest of the council met in an alcove. Henrietta stayed to discuss with Louise and Saito.

"It seems that her Highness has proven herself to be right about this new world." Mazarin remarked. "These people may have strange customs and they may not be blessed by the Founder...but they are compassionate and trustworthy."

"Indeed," Delage agreed, turning to the Queen. "Your daughter has done much for the Kingdom. I confess that I may have underestimated the Princess."

"Princess is quite an unworthy title for her now, I think." The archduchess said cautiously, gauging the other two's reaction.

Both nodded.

"You may be right." Delage admitted. "I'm sure we all remember the incident at the Gallia border…" That had caused no small amount of worry in Tristain's nobility. Richemont had been particularly angered. Unpredictable, yes, but the Mad King hadn't shown a threatening side to them until that day. "In fact, as grateful as I am to these outworlders, I feel we shouldn't forget we are our own sovereign Kingdom, something the other Blessed Realms seemed to have forgotten since King Henry died."

"Yes, luckily they are quite respectful of our sovereignty," Mazarin added, "I am lucky that we are with strong allies. But back to the subject of the Princess, perhaps it is indeed time she officially take to the throne."

"I believe it too," Archduchess Marianne stated, a hint of pride in her voice, "She has finally proven herself worthy being our queen."

"See? Told you shit would escalate!" Huynh said to a fellow officer as their men finished packing their equipment and began getting boarding trucks heading to the portal. True to their word, the deployments were expanding. More guards for both sides of the portal, and more troops at that base.

Canada had chosen to mobilize both Regular and Reserve Force units. That included the 4th Battalion of the Royal 22e Régiment from Laval, a Montreal suburb. That unit would be part of those guarding the portal on the other side. The little trading post on the other side had already been cleared out. It would undoubtedly reform, but around a larger force of Tristainian and Canadian border guards.

"At least we're got new kit," Brisebois remarked as he and Huynh got in their G-Wagon.

"Feels good not having some hand-me downs from the Regulars eh?"

The radio operator nodded in agreement. Any unit sent to Tristain was being issued newer equipment. The gear and weapons hadn't been through dozens of hands and hundreds of exercises. Not exactly fresh out the crate, but close enough.

Things a Reserve unit like the 4/22 could only get on Christmas if everyone had been nice that year and if the stars aligned properly.

Huynh contacted each section of his infantry platoon, confirming that they were all ready to go before contacting his company commander. Finally, he issued one of the most important orders of his career.

"All callsigns one, this is station one-nine, Budweiser one."

His four sections sounded their confirmation that they had received their orders to depart for the portal. The sound of truck engines mixed with the usual sound of early mornings as the Van Doos left their armoury in Laval.

After all these months of staring at that portal and wondering what was on the other side, on a late July morning, Huynh and his troops would finally get to see what was on the other side.

Author's endnote: And Voilà! What a chapter eh? Hope you guys and gals enjoyed it. Please leave a review!