"Your Majesty."
Kane turned his gaze away from the map of the Spiral spread out before him, meeting those of the spymaster Deacon's; still half concealed by the shadows of the dimly war council chamber.
"What is it?"
"I have noted that you seem to be particularly interested in the Commodore Septimus lately, Your Majesty; cur sic?"
The Supreme Commander shifted his form to a much more dignified one on his throne - like seat. He had expected this question to come to him sooner or later from one of the other elites, truly, particularly the spymaster Deacon.
"Unstable as he may be, spymaster, he is still useful to our cause, to the Grand Design. And I will admit, I am rather intrigued, to say the very least, regarding this human."
If Deacon was a human, Kane sensed, he would have arched an eyebrow at his words.
"I am afraid I do not really understand your words, Your Majesty."
"Septimus shows great aptitude and intuition, yet he still chooses to obey my words and my commands no matter how difficult it may be, and I do not believe that such behavior can be attributed to his recent mental deterioration." Kane turned his gaze back to the Spiral map before him, pale fingers following one of the threads leading into the world of Marleybone.
Very few things irked the Supreme Commander more than their recent skirmishes with their former ally: what more is frustrating to have a war pressing down on the Armada, when they could focus their attention on carrying out his plans for the Grand Design, and eradicating the Resistance and Rebel pests that had been a rock in their path for the past few years.
"Not only such, the Commodore commands a force that can perfectly match against our power - his Assassin Order - if he wished so."
"And he chooses not to."
"Precisely." Kane agreed. "He could overthrow me with some effort, if you compare the statistics and differences of power, spymaster."
"Allow me to propose a conclusion to this, Your Majesty."
Had he himself been a human, Kane would have felt what they had named curiosity, as he gestured for the spymaster to continue.
"The Commodore Septimus is dependent on you, Supreme Commander, after what had happened to his family. You are the only reason why he had permitted himself to continue functioning, when you reached out and saved him from self termination."
Dependent on him.
Such was rather flattering, as the humans would have said, and Kane supposed this wasn't so bad. It meant he could more effectively guide the Commodore as his little puppet, though he was not the best marionette in terms of origins, as he was, after all, a human, Kane would not deny the fact that Ulysses indeed was one of the very few effective officers under his command, nor the fact that he had been one of the more major contributors of the search for the El Dorado map.
"Nevertheless, Septimus is an interesting human, and a useful one as well, do you not agree, spymaster?"
"Affirmative, Your Majesty, he does have quite some potentials: you were not wrong in handing the reins of the war to him, however." Kane did not even bother to look up, simply gesturing for the other clockwork elite to continue. "I do worry about the Commodore's mental status, if he is stable enough."
Inwardly, Kane found himself agreeing to the spymaster's astute observations once more. Indeed, though Ulysses does display a degree of military genius, there is no denying of the fact that he was less than cognitively stable; a wildcard, to a degree, powerful, but unpredictable.
"I do not like to admit this, spymaster, but with the current situation, we would have to take this gamble."
They could not risk losing more time on the Grand Design, after having bidden their time for so long to carry it out.
Deacon was silent; he didn't need to speak to show that he agreed with the words of the Supreme Commander, as he once more blended into the shadows, leaving the Lord of the Armada to his own thoughts.
Turning his gaze back onto the Spiral map before him, the Supreme Commander found himself once more gazing upon one name.
Marleybone.
The clockwork king's long fingers traced the outline of the world, and he would have smiled if he had a fully functional face.
I am watching you, Commodore, you have proven yourself worthy of keeping around and your position. Show me that you are worthy of my respect, and perhaps you will just be the first human to make your way to the higher ranks of the Armada.
He had entertained the thought of naming him as one of the elites in the back of his processor, but that would be far too hasty, would it not? Ulysses was still a human, after all, not a clockwork like the rest of the elites are. He would continue to observe: he could wait a while longer with this one.
Not to mention it was rather... entertaining to watch his puppets dance.
(Ulysses POV)
Mmmm, blood, the smell of blood never, never failed to make him feel as though there was a spring under each step he took.
Ulysses could feel his lips threatening to turn up into another one of his smiles: no, not now, not when he was with his soldiers. He could not risk letting them know of... his instability, when they are under his leadership.
The Commodore forced his face back into the most neutral expression he could manage, as he watched his clockworks clean up the mess that had been left behind by the latest assault of the Kurgha tigers: some of them repairing the barricades that had been destroyed during the battles, others tossing enemy corpses into the endless abyss that was every skyway, while giving the last rites to the bodies of the deactivated clockworks.
His long fingers curled in instinctively on themselves, memories that Ulysses found he would have much rather remain buried in the very back of his mind threatening to emerge once more. And already loose images were beginning to flash before his eyes.
No... stop this...
The muscles of his face twitched, more images flashing before his own two eyes. Again, he could see the face of his brother, his poor brother, strawn out before the gates of Monteriggoni, blood coating what was once his handsome features and a bloody hole in his torso where the swords of four Templar masters had ran him clean through. He remembered the bronze smell of blood, thickly tinging the air as he stood among the bodies of his friends, his apprentices, all of them slaughtere by the Templar invaders.
Stop...
He remembered the pain, the red hot pain that had shot through his heart upon the sight of his brother's body. He knew, oh he knew, just how easily it could have all been reversed, kept from happening, had he been a little faster to return with the aide the Aquila branch so desperately needed.
STOP!
Curse his pesky human nature, always turning up at the worst of times!
Ulysses resisted the urge to release a growl of frustration that had been pushing at his throat; pivoting around sharply to return to his cabin, until a voice called out.
"Commodore, there is someone that would like to request of your presence."
Who could it be at this time of night...?
His gaze turned down the cobblestone streets, the blood soaked streets that were the only reminder of what had happened merely minutes ago. He wasn't exactly surprised to say that he felt nothing in the moment, per se: considering he was doing what his god and king told him to do, to end this unneeded war with minimal casualty to their side, and did he not do just so? They had only lost fifteen soldiers altogether in acquiring this island.
The Commodore's eyes turned away from the carnage laid out before him, to the black clad figure marching down the street.
Militus Secundus.
Who else would it be, with those mechanical yet fluid strides, and the mask obscuring his face from view?
"Per la gloria dell'Armata, Commodore." The spy's voice came out muffled, at least an entire pitch lower than his true voice; his right arm snapping up into a classic Armada salute
Returing the gesture, Ulysses locked his eyes onto the dark sockets of the mask worn by the Armada spy, half hidden underneath the black hooded cloak and coat he had worn to conceal his identity.
"May the glory and might of the Supreme Commander be with you, Secundus, what brought you here?"
"Two of your old friends are here, I heard, seeking out the next piece of the El Dorado map, which is rumored to be somewhere on the Isle of Dogs, Commodore."
El Dorado map.
And Adrian Devereaux...!
This almost felt far too good to be true, far too good.
Both of his objectives in one place?!
"...Are you... sure of it?"
Merda, Ulysses Septimus, you sound like a excited child...! Though... it is also undeniable of the fact it would be rather satisfying to tear that little bastard apart with your two bare hands, for what he had done to you...
"I had seen them with my own eyes, Commodore, it is certain that those two are Adrian Devereaux and Edward Teach."
Perhaps the Fates are finally taking pity on him?! This was better, much better than what he had expected. Two birds with one stone!
"Eccellente, you have done well, Secundus, His Majesty will no doubt be pleased to hear of your performance."
"Sono onorato, Commodore, however this is not all of it." Secundus produced a hologram projector from within the folds of his black cloak, placing it into Ulysses' palm. "The Royal Navy's plan to recruit officers to battle against our might has been spread, and those two pirates have leapt at the opportunity."
Insolent fools, did they really believe they have what it takes to challenge the might of a god?
Ulysses' mouth twisted into a scowl of distaste at the sight of the red - clad swashbuckler. Nothing irked him more than to see his enemies still walking free in the Spiral, away from the hands of the justice they should have faced long ago-
"You know joining the Royal Navy won't be so easy, do you not?"
"Ha! As long as we tear up some of those mechanical devils, they would let us in without a second thought, Teach." Devereaux's smile spoke of confidence, perhaps an overly abundant amount of it. "Which is more than easy, considering how those cogheads hold them above us humans: they would never expect us to be so daring as to sabotage their precious Beachhead battlestation!"
They say that I am mad, but perhaps you are the one that is truly insane: the Beachhead is one of the most well built piece of machinery I had seen yet, the pinnacle of Armada genius and engineering, guarded by hundreds and maybe even thousands of my brothers and sisters...
Though Septimus would have to admit, they did have a point. No one would expect saboteurs to appear when the Beachhead is only eighty percent complete as of this moment.
You would believe you can catch us by surprise, too bad for you, Devereaux, your confidence will now be your undoing.
Ulysses pressed down on the button to turn off the hologram recording, passing the item back to the black clad Armada spy.
"What you have done will save us this war, Secundus, I thank you."
By proceeding exactly as planned, the Armada would only suffer minimal loss, just as his master commanded him to ensure.
"It is my pleasure to be of service to the Armada, Commodore." The spy bowed low, raising back up just as stiffly as a clockwork would. "Per la gloria dell'Armata, and ave Imperator Primus Caesarus."
"As it is mine, Commodore."
That voice!
Ulysses' eyes flew wide behind his mask.
"Mentor!?"
Indeed, striding toward them was the Assassin Engineer, a crew of fully armored clockworks bearing double edged battle axes trailing him like a king's train: Cristobal himself too was dressed for war, with his old set of Assassin robes and Seusenhofer armor, his sparquebus strapped to his back and a sword by his side.
Cristobal held up his right hand, and the crew of clockworks behind him halted in perfect synchronization, their massive battle axes against their chest.
"I had heard of the recent skirmishes between Valencia and Marleybone, Commodore, so I thought I should contribute what I can to the path to victory for our homeland."
The Assassin made a sweeping gesture to the group of at least twenty clockworks behind him.
"Allow me to introduce the Brutes, twice as strong as Dragoons, with I daresay three times as much armor."
In a distance, the clockworks lead by the Assassin Engineer was already intimidating, up close...? If it was even possible for them to look more so, as Ulysses looked upon the armored tanks now looming before them: at least seven feet in height, each of their weapons at least three feet in length, with two razor sharp blades in the shape of the Aquilan letter omega attached.
How fitting, the last letter of their alphabet forming the last thing their victims would ever see in their lives. Those Resistance fools won't stand a single chance.
"Those are not the only ones I brought, you see, Commodore: mi dispiace to have taken so long assembling it, but the battlecruiser The Empire is at last ready for service."
Ulysses was only vaguely aware of Secundus next to him, drawing in a breath of awe as they both finally focused on the titanic ship that had carried the experienced Assassin here into Marleybone.
"Mio Dio."
Indeed, mio Dio, he was sure he had not seen a ship bigger than that before in his life, not even with his extensive travels around the Spiral:
He would estimate it to be at the size of the Isle of Dogs, maybe even bigger, and heavily armored around the hull, built in the style of a Armada ship, with more guns than he could possibly count.
Brute clockworks and Paladin Assassins dressed in black and red formed the crew of the ship, with Assassins at the riggings, and the clockworks the cannons. What held Ulysses' gaze was not that, more of the primary cannon of the ship, a enormous cannon he was farily certain could rival the one mounted on the Beachhead.
"With cesium powder instead of the regular gunpowder, and atlatium ammunition, I daresay it would only take two or three shots to reduce the Marleybonean mainland into a pile of smoking rubble."
Now the war gets even more interesting as the Assassins step in to aide their Grand Master General ;) also, did anyone find the Star Wars reference I had hidden among the words? Bonus internet cookies if you did! And yes, the Brute clockworks were inspired of the Brutes from the game series Assassin's Creed (which I am a big fan of if you have not yet noticed).
Italian/Latin Phrases used by order of appearance:
Cur sic- Why so? (Latin)
Eccellente- Excellent
Sono onorato- I am honored (or my honors).
Ave, Imperator Primus Caesarus- Hail, Emperor Primus Caesarus.
-Primus Caesarus is the Latinized name of the Supreme Commander Kane.
Mio Dio- My God.
And in case anyone wonders, atlatium is the type of metal used to forge armor for the Brute clockworks: heavier than normal metal, hence causing more damaged when used to create cannonballs.
Reviews are greatly appreciated! Until next time my dear readers :)
-Hades