Standing in the hallway of the officer's barracks at Sacramento, Nonette fought to get her breathing under control. Her right foot throbbed slightly from the pain of delivering the kick to the face of the bastard assassin who had tried to kill her friend. The man was laid out at her feet, his hand still trapped under the Knight's foot as he had tried to reach for Ciaran's pistol.
"Ciaran!" She said to herself, snapping up her head and turning to look at the young man who was on the floor of the hallway and trying to crawl up towards the wall closest to him in an attempt to lift himself up. Even from the distance she was at, Nonette could hear his breathing coming out in ragged breaths and he was struggling to breath in. "Hold on!"
Quickly stepping over the fallen body of the assassin, the Knight of Nine rushed towards the young man and helped prop him up against the wall. Looking at him, she couldn't help but grimace at what she saw: his eyes had become red, while his neck was red all around with what looked like the beginnings of deep bruising on the sides in the shape of the bastard's fingers as well as marks from where his own nails had scratched at his skin. Thankfully though, his chest was rising and falling with regularity, so that meant that nothing was seriously wrong with him, even if he sounded like he had a rusty motor in his mouth.
"Ciaran, are you okay?" She asked worriedly, holding his shoulder gently as she propped him up.
After taking a few ragged breaths, he replied. "It hurt to talks."
Nonette couldn't help the short chuckle that came from her as she pulled the man in to a hug. Seeing him on the floor had filled her with fear, but right now, all of that vanished when Ciaran began talking.
"Nonette, what's going on?" She heard Darlton ask as he drew closer to them, his steady footfalls turning quickly from a walk in to an outright run as he came to their position. "Villetta!"
Turning her head, the Knight of Nine looked to the tawny-skinned woman who was slowly and groggily pushing herself up from her slumped position against the drinks machine, wincing and groaning as she began moving. Nearly in a flash, Darlton was by her side.
"Ugh... General?" Villetta asked, blinking slowly as she began looking around. She was definitely in a better state than her superior officer was.
"Hold on," Darlton said, kneeling down next to her. "Stay where you are. We'll get some help. Where's the battalion?"
"In... in the rec-room, sir." Villetta said groggily, reaching a hand up to rub at the back of her head. "Oh, my head kills."
"I'll be it does." The general said, chuckling slightly. "I'll go and get them. Nonette, look after them."
"Will do, Darlton." The Knight said, nodding her head as she watched the tall man stand up and run down the hallway and out of the door, leaving the three alone. Pulling herself up, Nonette moved over to Villetta and gently lifted her up. "Come on, Villetta. Come with me."
"O-okay." The tawny-skinned woman said wearily, moving a little stiffly as she was lifted up and walked over to where Ciaran was seated. As she was sat down, Villetta glanced over at the young man, and almost immediately, her physical trauma was forgotten in an instant. "Ciaran! Are you okay?"
"Not so loud." The young man rasped out, wincing as the woman next to him practically screamed in his ear. "But considering I've just had someone try to strangle me and my neck currently feels like I've swallowed a piece of flaming wire wool? I feel peachy."
The Knight of Nine couldn't help but chuckle at the sarcastic remark. "Save your voice, Ciaran. If you talk too much, you'll make it worse."
"Right-oh." Ciaran replied, giving the woman a thumbs up as he promptly shut his mouth.
Nonette smiled broadly before she lunged forward and pulled the Briton in to a hug, resting his head against her chest. This time however, there was no attempt to make him feel uncomfortable for her own enjoyment. The champagne-haired woman just wanted to try anything to alleviate the pain he was going through.
"I'm sorry." She said quietly as she cradled his head against her chest. "This is my fault."
Ciaran tried shaking his head as best he could as he croaked out. "No, Nonette. It's no- ow."
"No talking." Nonette said as she deftly swatted him on the side of his head. "But I'm serious. I was told straight up that someone was after you but I let you get those drinks on your own. This is all my fault."
The Knight of Nine saw the bottom of her vision begin to get blurry as tears began building in her eyes.
"Wha? What are you talking about?" Villetta asked, finally coming around from her concussion and she looked at Nonette tightly hugging her superior officer.
Sighing softly, the Knight of Nine turned her head and looked at the woman beside her. "After she contacted us to congratulate us, Nellie- that is, Princess Cornelia, told Ciaran, Darlton and myself to stay behind. She... she told us that someone was after Ciaran."
"Really? I'd never have guessed." Villetta responded sarcastically, which quickly fell away as she realised how much in bad taste that comment was. "Sorry, my Lady. Please continue."
"It's all right." Nonette replied, shaking her head ruefully. "I knew that Ciaran was in danger, but... I had to let him wander off on his own."
"I wouldn't call getting a drink 'wandering of'- ow! Hey?" The young man in her arms croaked out before he was once again swatted on the side of the head.
"I should have kept a better eye on you." Nonette said, ignoring his comment completely as she felt the first tears fall down her cheeks. "I promised that I'd protect you. And I failed."
To say the Knight of Nine felt horrible would be an amazing understatement. The only reason she had even managed to hear the young man's cry for help was because she had thought the sound of the fight had been the Briton getting angry at the drinks machine, and she wanted to hear the result. It had been pure chance that she had heard him yell out her name.
God, if she had been paying more attention to the TV...
A hand pressing softly against her right cheek made her jerk up in a start. Looking down, Nonette was met with a soft and gentle smile from Ciaran as he was still pressed to the top of her bust.
"That's the fourth woman I've made cry in the space of a month." The young man said, smiling up at her. "Maybe I deserved it."
Nonette's blue eyes widened at what she heard him say before, without even realising it, a chuckle began building in her throat, which soon turned in to a full-blown laugh, the sound rolling down the corridor.
"Oh, Jesus Christ, Ciaran." She said, bringing a hand up to wipe the tears from her eyes, as they turned from ones of sadness to mirth. "That was fucking smooth."
In reply, Ciaran merely shrugged before extraditing himself from her grip, moving back slightly to look at her fully, smiling sweetly.
The sound of the door at the end of the hallway banging open preceded Darlton's booming voice. "This way! Hurry!"
Turning her head, Nonette saw the large general hold the door open as half a dozen men rushed past him. Three of them were out of uniform, while one was carrying a large grey kit bag over his shoulders, while the other three wore the dark blue uniforms and scarlet berets of the Britannian Military Provosts, two of them carrying compact submachineguns while the third carried a shotgun.
"Captain Forsyth!" One of the men, the tall sergeant with blonde hair that Nonette had seen Ciaran talking to after their first exercise with the Valkyrs, called out as they rushed towards the pair. "Are you all right?"
The Briton merely raised his left hand in to the air, indicating that he was all right. Without a word, the three soldiers slowed down to a jog while the three provosts rushed past all of them and surrounded the unconscious assassin.
"He's out cold." One of them said as he knelt down to feel the man's pulse before looking up at Nonette. "Good kick, My Lady."
"I know how to deal with men." The lady Knight said simply, shrugging her shoulders, as the soldier with the large kit bag came next to her and Ciaran. The man was taller than Nonette, but a few inches shorter than Darlton, with a thick moustache of red hair that matched the short crop of hair on his head.
Setting his bag down, the man opened it up and began rummaging around inside it before pulling out a small torch, which he promptly switched on and brought up to Ciaran's eye level. "Captain, I'm CMT Second Class Bryan, but you can call me 'Doc'. Sir, I need you to look at the torch directly, all right?"
"Right-oh." Ciaran croaked out, turning his head to look at the medic's torch while Bryan held open the young man's eyelids, exposing the eye to harsh light from the hand-held torch. Nonette watched as his pupil contracted from the light, making the blue-green of Ciaran's eyes stand out more, although the bright red capillaries in the whites of his eyes were the main attention for them.
Turning her head slightly, Nonette watched as the provosts with the submachineguns slung their weapons, put a pair of handcuffs around the unconscious man's wrists before lifting him up on to his feet and began hauling him down the hallway. The third man had his shotgun trained on the man the whole time.
"Petechiae on the eyes." Bryan said as he switched off the light and began looking at the young man's other injuries. "Finger impressions and scratches on the neck. Can you try swallowing for me, sir?"
Turning back, the Knight of Nine watched Ciaran's throat move slightly as he swallowed a glob of spit, which produced a pained groan from the young man. "That hurt a bit." He rasped out.
Bryan nodded his head as he put the torch back in to his bag. "All right. Sir, we need to take you to the infirmary, since I want to get an x-ray of your neck to make sure nothing has been broken. Okay?"
"You're the doctor." Ciaran replied, forcing himself to stand up.
"Let me help." Nonette said, grasping his arm as she helped him stand upright, putting a hand against his shoulder to support him against her. Looking back slightly, she saw Villetta being helped to her feet by Darlton before walking her to the end of the hallway, the three soldiers escorting them the whole way.
Exiting the building, the Knight of Nine wasn't too surprised to see a pair of closed top Jeeps idling outside, waiting for them with doors open, ready to let them in. The provosts were busy putting the knocked-out attacker in to the back of the first Jeep while one of the soldiers, Sergeant Colbert Nonette reminded herself, held the rear door of the second vehicle open for their captain and the others to get in to.
"We'll be taking the prisoner to the infirmary," The scarred general said as he helped Villetta in to the back seat of the Jeep. "Lieutenant Fick, I need to go fetch the Provost Marshal about this whole thing. I trust you'll keep things under control until I return?"
The young lieutenant stood stiffly to attention as he responded. "You can count on us, sir."
Darlton nodded his head before turning to look at Ciaran and Nonette, giving both of them a wry smile before asking, "Think you'll be all right without me?"
The Knight of Nine returned the smile with a cocky grin of her own. "I think we'll be fine."
The general merely nodded in reply before he headed back in to officer's barracks. Taking that as her cue, Nonette helped Ciaran in to the back seat of the Jeep before climbing in with him, shutting the door behind her. Sergeant Colbert and CMT Bryan climbed in to the front, the latter in the driver's seat. Closing his door, the sergeant turned to look at the three in the back.
"We all good?"
The three nodded their heads, Villetta a little more slowly than the other two. Turning back to look at Bryan, the sergeant nodded his own head, non-verbally telling the medic to start the engine. Soon the two vehicles began rolling forward, quickly gaining speed before they were driving down the tarmac in the late evening light.
Turning to her side, Nonette put a hand on to Ciaran's head as she gently began stroking his hair. "Cornelia's gonna kill me."
"Why is she going to kill you?" The young man asked, looking at her in confusion. "Did you hear what she did to me the day before we left Area 11?"
Nonette shook her head.
"She nearly crushed my head with her bare hands."
This earned a chuckle from Nonette while Villetta looked at the two in confusion before she asked, "Why did she do that?"
"Because I went in to the Settlement by myself without telling her, or anyone else really, where I was going." Unconsciously, Ciaran brought his hands to rub the sides of his head softly. "That woman scares me sometimes."
"Nah, she's not scary." The champagne-haired woman said as she reclined in her seat. "She puts on a hard façade, but she's just a big softy."
Out of the corner of her eyes, Nonette saw all the people not currently preoccupied with driving turn and give her a very disbelieving look.
"You didn't know her when she was younger." She said in her defence. "Also, if you know anything about her relationship with her younger sister, you'll know that Cornelia is nowhere near the hard-arse she's made out to be."
Memories of a young, fresh-faced purple-haired princess, barely fourteen years old, sitting asleep at the desk in the room she and Nonette shared at Colchester Imperial Academy late at night, the desk top almost literally covered in textbooks and papers. The champagne-haired woman, a commoner who had proven her combat skills on the African continent and been selected for officer's training as a result, had warned her against working too hard and could only shake her head slightly in response before she gently placed a blanket around the snoozing young girl.
She couldn't help it. Looking after people younger than her was just something she did. It came naturally to Nonette, she never gave it a second thought.
The feeling of Ciaran taking her hand off of his head and move it down made her jolt a bit as she looked at the young man.
"Nonette, none of this is your fault." He said as warmly as his voice would allow. "Remember, you saved me. So Cornelia will thank you for that. What's happened... it's done, okay."
A small but happy smile came to the Knight's face as she felt Ciaran give her hand a gentle squeeze which she returned.
"Besides," The young man continued. "Cornelia is still going to give me a right bollocking when she hears about this."
Decided that silence was the best option, Nonette simply rolled her eyes at the young man's comment as she looked out of the window. She was on edge now, even if she didn't show it outwardly, and she was looking intently for any threats that might pop up. The sight of several military provost vehicles, their sirens blaring, didn't dissuade her from her search of anyone who sought to bring harm to her friend.
The groups Jeep arrived at the infirmary quickly. Outside of the building, a full fireteam of armed and armoured provosts stood guard, the lights spilling out from the infirmary doors casting the military policemen in ominous shadows.
A group of military nurses and a doctor came out, one of their number pushing a trolley before them. They approached Nonette and her group as they disembarked from the Jeep, one of the nurses going over immediately to Villetta to check her status while the doctor went to Bryan.
"All right." The Knight of Nine said to Ciaran. "Get on the trolley."
"I can walk." He replied simply.
"Ciaran, this isn't negotiable: get on the trolley." Nonette replied more sternly.
The young man opened his mouth to make a retort, but the stern look in the woman's blue eyes made him clamp it shut before he trudged forward and gingerly climbed on to the trolley.
"They're just taking you for an x-ray, sir." Bryan said as he detached himself from the doctor. "They got word that the person who attacked you is on the way here so they're asking me to look over him."
"I'll wait in the lobby for Lieutenant Fick." Sergeant Colbert said, which earned him a confirmatory nod from Nonette.
"I'll go with Ciaran." She said, in a tone that meant that everyone heard, "And no-one can tell me no". Everyone present nodded their heads before one of the nurses began pushing the trolley in to the lobby and down the hallway towards the x-ray room, Nonette's long legs easily letting her keep pace with the moving trolley. Word must have been sent ahead since none of the receptionists bothered to approach the moving trio, meaning they walked in an uncomfortable silence, the only sound being the squeak-squeak-squeak of the trolley's wheels in motion before they came to their destination.
"I'm afraid that you'll need to wait in the viewing area, My Lady." The nurse said demurely, obviously a little frightened by being in the presence of a Knight of the Round.
Nonette kept her gaze at the nurse for a few seconds, making the other woman take a step back in fear, before she felt Ciaran lightly hit her arm.
"Be nice." He said.
The Knight looked down at the young man lying on his back before she gave him a small smile. "All right." She motioned behind her to the door that lead to the viewing room. "I'll be right in there."
Ciaran nodded his head before the nurse, trembling slightly, pushed the trolley with him on it the room with the x-ray machine, leaving the champagne-haired Knight to enter in to the viewing room.
Leaning against the wall, she watched through the window as her young friend was helped off the trolley and was put underneath the machine, before being blasted with the invisible waves to see what the damage was to the inner workings of his neck.
The sound of footsteps behind her made her turn around to see Villetta walking towards her. The tawny-skinned woman had her right hand behind the back of her head, a small sliver of white peaking out from behind her head, obviously some form of cold compress.
"My Lady." The woman said, bowing her head gently.
Sighing softly, Nonette turned her head back to look at Ciaran as an army nurse came and moved the x-ray machine away before helping him sit upright. "You know, I never really cared for you Purists in the slightest."
The woman behind her didn't make a sound, not that the Knight was that bothered. Her eyes were fixed on the Briton as one of the army doctors came and began talking to him about his injury. Instead, Nonette decided to keep on talking.
"Britannia claims that those who can should work with their best ability to better themselves, and this goes for Numbers and Britannians. If they have the ability to better their lot, by whatever means, then they should do it." Pushing herself from the wall, the Knight turned around and fixed Villetta with a cold stare. "In Area 11, we wanted to work on getting the Elevens out of the Correctional state and in to becoming a Developed colony. But throughout the seven years that we have been in control, your group has continually hamstrung any attempt to make it so."
"My Lady Knight of Nine, I WAS in the Purists-" Villetta began before she was cut off by Nonette.
"I don't care." She snapped, making the other woman flinch slightly. "Lady Villetta; you have been part of a group that has been fundamentally against letting people like Ciaran in to the Britannian army. So why did you agree to join this unit?"
Keeping her hand on the back of her head, Villetta moved her eyes in a darting fashion as a person who had become trapped would before her mouth opened in confusion, obviously unsure about how to answer. Her shoulders suddenly slumped as she realised that there was no excuse she could give to the older woman in front of her.
"Because... because he gave me a second chance." Villetta said simply. "He could have approached anyone, anyone, but he came to me and Margrave Jeremiah for help. Well, no, technically, we went to him, but he called for us to help him."
Nonette stared at the woman in front of her for a few seconds before she cracked a smile. "So you joined because he was nice enough to give you a second chance?"
In reply, the other woman simply shrugged. "Basically, My Lady."
The smile on Nonette's face broadened as she spoke. "It feels good when people are nice to you, doesn't it?"
The look on Villetta's face quickly morphed in to a look of confusion as she took in what the Knight of Nine had just said to her. "Wha-what are you trying to get at, My Lady?"
Taking a step forward, Nonette put a hand on to the woman's shoulder in a reassuring gesture. "You'll get it someday soon."
Even if the woman's face didn't show it, at twenty-nine years, Nonette had experienced more than her fair share of ups and downs, even before she became the Knight of Nine. It was true that for many of the nobility in Britannia, the champagne-haired woman was looked down on with disdain. This was a woman who flaunted so many of the societal rules of the aristocracy without a second thought, a woman who once practically burped in the face of Charles zi Britannia after his coronation as emperor (granted, she did apologise for that), a woman who always flirted with members of the Royal Family and the military, although she never did so with the intent to hurt and if anyone did fall for her flirtations and she realised that keeping together would not end well, she always let them down easy. This was a woman who had killed men and women in personal and Knightmare combat, who had seen the military might of Britannia steam-roll over other nations with impunity and had seen the worst of humanity given form in the fires of combat, but had come out smiling on the other side.
Why she was capable of smiling after all she had seen, even she didn't know. But she knew one solid fact about the world: treat a person nicely, and they will treat you nicely in return. It may take a while, like with Nellie, but it'll happen sooner or later.
"Ciaran." Villetta simply said, looking past the older woman and behind her. Releasing her grip, Nonette turned around and saw the young man standing behind her. He still looked worse for wear from the attack, but at least now he had been given a bright white bandage to wrap around his neck, the sight of which caused her to smile.
"Any damage?" The silver-haired woman asked, causing the young man to shake his head.
"Nothing serious. Just a little bit of bruising, but nothing broken."
Nonette smiled before she spoke up. "You know that if Nellie sees you in that, she's going to freak, right?"
Ciaran merely nodded his head before responding slowly. "Ee-yup."
Reaching forward, the woman quickly patted the young man on the shoulder, smiling broadly at him. "Don't worry about it. We'll sort it out before leave tomorrow."
"If we leave tomorrow." Villetta suddenly said, making both Nonette and Ciaran turn and look at her, forcing her to elaborate. "General Darlton's back with the Provost Marshal. And he is not happy."
"How bad is it?" The young man asked.
"Well, he's brought a full fireteam of soldiers, which is never a good sign." The noblewoman replied, removing the compress from the back of her head. "As for the man himself? I don't know. I've yet to see him."
"Got it." The young man said, trying to straight up his appearance. The Knight of Nine couldn't help but chuckle at the young man who was currently looked more like an Appalachian lumberjack than a Britannian officer, prompting him to look up at her in confusion. "What?"
"Nothing," She said, shaking her head. "Just that I don't really think you're going to improve the Provost Marshal's mood any time soon. Still, let's not keep him waiting."
Turning smartly on her heels, Nonette lead the way for the officers, knowing the likeliest place for Darlton and the Provost Marshal to be. It didn't take long for them to go from the x-ray room and towards the main waiting room and, just as she had anticipated, General Darlton was standing and talking to an equally tall man with a large dark blue cloak hanging over his shoulders and a scarlet topped peaked cap upon his head. From the side, she could see that the man had a thick brown moustache that reached up to his sideburns and connected with his hair. To his back, the unmistakeable sight of dark blue uniformed provosts, each one wearing body armour and carrying a either a submachinegun or a shotgun in their hands. Across from them, she saw Lieutenant Fick and Sergeant Colbert standing off to the side at parade rest, trying their best to look not intimidated by the large number of armed provosts.
"That's the Provost Marshal." Nonette whispered to Ciaran. "So be respectful."
"Got it." The young man replied as the three stepped forward before stopping short of the two officers while Ciaran and Villetta stood stiffly to attention. "General Darlton, sir."
Stopping his conversation, the scarred general turned to look at the three new arrivals, before nodding his head in greeting. "What's the word on your condition, captain?"
"Nothing is broken. The larynx is okay so there's no immediate danger, but the injuries on my neck will be there for a good while yet."
The general nodded his head before turning to look at the man beside him. "Good. Captain Forsyth, allow me to introduce you to Richard Stirner, the Provost Marshal for Sacramento Air Base and the whole West Coast."
Looking to her side, Nonette saw that Ciaran didn't let any emotion come to his face as the Provost Marshal stepped forward and began scrutinizing the young man. The taller man was definitely intimidating enough: a rough square face with naturally questioning, green eyes, which was a look further enhance by the man's large eyebrows.
"So this is your new protégé, eh, Darlton?" The man asked after a few seconds of silence. "I'll admit that he doesn't look like much, but I won't say anything about it. Do you feel up to questioning, young man?"
Ciaran nodded his head before he rasped out. "Yes, I am, sir."
Stirner nodded his head in reply. "Right then. We just have to wait for one more person..."
As if on cue, the doors to the waiting room opened and in walked the man that probably no-one wanted to see at that moment, Brigadier-Colonel Upson, flanked by two more soldiers. Like the provosts, they were dressed in full gear and were obviously spoiling for a fight, although that desire quickly fell away when they saw that they were significantly outgunned and outnumbered.
The base commander, however, was unperturbed. "So what's all this about, General Darlton?"
It was Stirner who replied for him. "Brigadier-Colonel Upson, at approximately nineteen-hundred hours, Captain Ciaran Forsyth, of the Second Princess, Princess Cornelia li Britannia's Royal Guard and commanding officer of the recently formed 332 Light Infantry Battalion, was the target of an attempted assassination by an unknown party. As base commander, this attack falls under your area of command."
It brought Nonette no small amount of pleasure to see a look of shock fall across Upson's face.
"Are you implicating me in this whole affair, Provost Marshal?" The blonde-haired asked in a roar, obviously enraged by the idea.
"Surprisingly not, brigadier-colonel." The moustachioed military policeman said, turning his head to look at Ciaran, obviously waiting for him to explain the situation.
"The assassin approached me, under the guise of wishing to deliver a letter to me." The young man rasped out. "The letter was a letter congratulating me for the creation of 332 Battalion. Signed by you, brigadier-colonel."
'Which was not something you would do', was the part unsaid, and the blonde-haired senior officer gave a small snort of amusement in reply.
"Now that was a stupid thing for the assassin to do, wasn't it?" Upson asked, looking quite pleased by the change in events.
"Indeed, brigadier-colonel," Darlton replied. "Your... disdain for those beneath you is well documented."
"Agreed. However, I do believe that you should see this." Stirner said before he reached underneath his cloak and took out a slightly crumpled sheet of paper. From Nonette's memory, it was the same sheet of paper that the assassin had handed to Ciaran, which the man promptly handed to Upson. The brigadier-colonel quickly glanced down at the bottom of the paper before giving a snort in derision.
"This is obviously a fake." Upson said flatly. "I'd remember signing such a document, and I never signed this one."
"Indeed, brigadier-colonel." Stirner said before he began slowly walking towards Ciaran and the two women with him. "Which gives us a disturbing implication; that someone with easy access to Upson's signature chose to target the young captain for assassination. Which begs the question, Captain Forsyth; can you think of anyone from a high position who would want you dead?"
Looking out of the corner of her eye, Nonette saw Ciaran chew his lower lip slightly as he thought over the question before he shook his head. "The only person I could think of is currently in jail, sir."
"And who would that be?" Stirner asked, taken aback by the young man's claim before turning to look at Darlton, who was suppressing a big grin, for confirmation.
"Lord Augustus Hasselbach." The scarred general said after getting his humour under control. "He was... heavily implicated in the trafficking of Refrain in to Area 11. But he's right; the man's not in a position to send an assassin after the captain."
The Provost Marshal hmm-ed in reply as he took a step back. "This is intriguing..."
Nonette couldn't have agreed with him more, too. When she had heard that someone was after Ciaran, her mind immediately moved to the nobleman in question as being the one behind it. It was a truth that, if slighted in any way shape or form, many Britannian nobles would hire someone to deal with whoever they felt had wronged them, and it wasn't too hard to imagine a noble hiring someone while they were in prison.
There was the question of Zero being behind it, but the Knight knew that if he did try anything, then Nellie would on him faster than flies on a cow turd.
It seemed like the most likely outcome: a disgraced Britannian nobleman sending an assassin after the man who helped send him to prison. But something about the whole thing didn't sit right with her...
"Still-" Stirner said, snapping Nonette out of her thoughts. "- We won't be able to answer these questions just by looking at this piece of paper. Where is the assailant?"
"In infirmary ward one, Provost Marshal." Fick spoke up quickly.
"You heard the lieutenant. Infirmary ward one." Stirner said to his armed followers. At the command, half of the number moved forward, obviously intent to be the vanguard for the group. Soon the group was walking towards the indicated room, the unarmed officers walking in the middle of the ring of armed soldiers, everyone on edge because of the events of what happened earlier.
Looking to her side, Nonette saw Ciaran fiddling with the bandage around his neck, grimacing slightly at the discomfort he was obviously feeling. Reaching over, the woman took his hand gently pulled it down.
"You'll just make it worse." She chided him softly, earning a sheepish smile from the young man as he withdrew his hand from his neck.
"Sorry." Ciaran said in reply, before Nonette put her hand on to his shoulder gently.
"Don't apologise." She said soothingly. "None of this is your fault."
Ciaran smiled at the comment, which made Nonette smile in turn, before he turned back to look at the approaching door to the infirmary, the smile quickly becoming replaced by a look of apprehension. She couldn't really blame him: an investigation by military police was something that was capable of terrifying anyone, and to have to face that sort of thing alone... well, that was probably the most single terrifying experience for anyone.
Reaching out her hand again as the group reached the infirmary, the Knight of Nine opened her mouth to speak, ready to give her friend some words of comfort, but was cruelly cut off by the shrill sounds of a heart monitor going crazy and the resulting shouting that resulted from said noise.
"What the hell is going on?" Stirner asked before he barged forward past his vanguard, General Darlton close on his heels. Moving quickly, all of the others quickly followed in behind the two senior-most officers, piling in through the double doors in to the room while the soldiers moved aside to form a cordon outside the door and just to get out of the way.
Rushing inside the pristine white room, Nonette only had a few seconds to take in the details of the room; the various beds lined up in two rows against both rows, the various bits of medical equipment ready for use, and focused only on the scene that was playing out to her left: the formerly unconscious assassin was lying... no, spasming on one of the beds, his mouth frothing and his eyes rolled back in to his head. His chest was stripped bare and he had numerous leads stuck to his chest, ones which fed the information to the machine he was hooked to that he was dying. Around him, a few army nurses and CMT Bryan were trying their best to keep him alive, the red-haired medical officer angrily trying to figure what he could do to keep the man alive.
"God-fucking-damnit!" The medic roared as he began compressing the man's chest, trying to get his heart to start. But the sound of the heart monitor flat-lining told everyone that his efforts were all for naught.
"Well there goes that line of questioning." Sergeant Colbert spoke up from behind Nonette, the man shaking his head. Beside her, she saw Ciaran put a hand against his head in annoyance.
"We should have bloody seen that coming." He said in annoyance, his raspy voice making his anger come through even clearer. "No assassin worth his salt would allow himself to be taken alive. Let alone let someone question him."
The Provost Marshal let out a groan in annoyance before he removed his hand rubbed at his short brown hair in frustration. "Too true. Damn."
The mood in the room quickly sobered at the realization: the main key suspect for the whole thing was dead, leaving them with nothing but a forged letter and an unknown motive. Hardly a good starting point for an investigation.
"What did this man say his name was?" Stirner asked, looking at the young captain.
"Uh... Saunders. Andrew Saunders." Villetta replied quickly. "He said he was with the 101st Imperial Infantry."
"The name is probably a cover, but it's something we can trace." The Provost said before he turned to one of his adjutants. "Get a lead on that name, and get this man's dental imprints. Try and find them on record."
"Yes, sir!" The man responded, with a smart salute before he quickly walked off, taking two other soldiers with him, before the Provost Marshal turned to look at Darlton. "I trust that you'll be staying put for the duration of this investigation?"
"Afraid not." The scarred general said, quickly shaking his head. "The battalion is needed back in Area 11. Orders of the Second Princess. Sorry."
Stirner let out a low 'huff' in reply. "That does scupper things a bit. But I think that since there's a possibility that the person behind the orchestration of the attack is in Area 11, then I'll send what information I can find over to my counterpart there. Good?"
"That sounds good." Darlton said nodding his head, Stirner returning the gesture before he turned to look at Nonette.
"You do know that I'm going to have to send my initial report about this to the Lord Knight of One, right, Lady Nonette?"
The champagne-haired woman simply shrugged her shoulders. Standard procedure whenever a Knight of the Round got involved in something with the Provosts. "Wouldn't be the first time. Hell, I think he'll be glad that I didn't do anything wrong for once."
Stirner gave a small snort of a laugh as he shrugged his shoulders, before shaking his head. "Well, I'll begin my work. Until the morning, as by my rank of Provost Marshal, the men and women of 332 Battalion will be confined to their quarters. Extra guards will be posted outside the rooms of the officers, so I suggest that you all bunk up."
At the suggestion, a wicked light came to life in Nonette's eyes before her mouth morphed in to a cat-like smile. Reaching up slowly, she snaked one of her hands around Ciaran's back before quickly grabbing on to his shoulder and pulling him tightly in to a full body hug, with enough force to knock the air out of his lungs.
"Dibs." Nonette simply said.
"Oh come on..." Ciaran drawled out in response to the few smirks and sniggers the action generated from some of the soldiers around them.
She knew that the young man was uncomfortable about the whole situation, but for the Knight of Nine paid them no attention as she looked at the body on the bed, the former assassin's eyes staring vacantly up at the ceiling. Her arms tightened slightly around the young man's body in a protective gesture that no-one else noticed.
As she watched a thin line of spittle drip down the side of the corpse's cheek and on to the pillow, one thought entered her mind: Someone was going to pay for this.
The Provosts had quietly and closely escorted Ciaran and co back to the officers barracks, guarding the captain and the lieutenant as they went about gathering their bags before they took them to the rooms they were sharing; Ciaran with Nonette and Villetta with Darlton. Even with the current circumstances, the young man took a small amount of perverse pleasure from the fact that Villetta would have to deal with Darlton's snoring this time around.
He had expected the Knight of Nine to be all over him in some form or another as soon as he arrived in her room. Instead, she was acting... distant was definitely not the word to use, since she would practically not leave his side almost as soon as he entered the room. She just seemed... very protective around him. The best example was when they had decided to try and watch some TV, at her suggestion, to put what happened out of their minds. Ciaran couldn't pay any attention to what was going on on the screen, not least in part because it was a Britannian TV-show he knew absolutely nothing about, but mainly because Nonette had curled herself up against him in a very protective posture. It also didn't help that she kept turning her head to look at the door.
It was obvious that she was on edge about something, even if she didn't let it show on her face.
Dressed in a pair of red tartan pyjama bottoms while pulling one of his plain white t-shirts gingerly down over his head, Ciaran let out a sigh as he turned to look at his reflection in the mirror of the bathroom of Nonette's room. It was astounding how quickly a day could turn from something brilliant in to something dreadful.
"Oh, come on, it's not that bad sharing a room with me, is it?" The Knight of Nine asked from the open door, a pair of pillows and a blanket held in her hands.
"What? No." The young man said quickly, turning to look at the older woman behind him. "It's just... this day just started so well. Now..." He trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid.
"I know what you mean, Ciaran." Nonette said sympathetically. "To be honest, even if Nellie hadn't given us that information, I was looking forward to having just you, me and Darlton having a nice meal together."
"Really?"
"Yeah! I mean, we've never had a meal just the three of us, have we?" Nonette said shrugging her shoulders while looking at him.
For his part, Ciaran just blinked at her for a few seconds before his face dropped and he brought his hands up to cover it. "Oh fuck. Oh, Nonette, I'm sorry."
"Why are you sorry?" The Lady Knight asked, looking at him in confusion.
"I just... I really feel like this is somehow my fault." He replied, removing his hands from his face to look at Nonette. "I mean-"
"Stop it." The Knight of Nine snapped. Looking at her face, Ciaran couldn't help but flinch at the glare that was being directed at him. "Ciaran, none of what happened was your fault. Do you know why peopled send assassins?"
He shrugged in reply. "Because they want to remove someone."
"Because whoever sent them is scared of the target. They're scared of what that person can do to them, so yes, they want them removed." She said, shifting the things in her hands to her side so she could point a finger at the young man. "So you should take that as a compliment: you've freaked someone out enough to want them to get rid of you. I know I would."
Ciaran couldn't help but look her blankly for a few seconds before he shook his head in disbelief. "You're incredible, Nonette."
Her characteristic smile quickly came back to her face. "I know I am. You ready for bed?"
Not waiting for an answer, Nonette turned around and headed to the couch in her room, giving Ciaran a view of her outfit from the back: a white T-shirt with a logo of a KMF Fighting League team, The Fire Balls, along with a pair of black panties and that was it, although her undone hair obscured a fair part of the logo on her back. It wasn't really that jarring to see her dressed like that, but while it still made his cheeks redden, there was still something about the whole situation he couldn't get over.
"Nonette, are you really sure you want to sleep on the couch? I mean, it is your room. By all rights, I should be the one on the couch and you should be in the bed." He asked as he followed her out of the bathroom and in to the main room, where she padded over to the couch and began setting up her stuff.
"Because it's safer." She simply said as she bent over and fluffed up the pillow, giving the young man a whole view of her full and lace covered rear before standing back up to look at him. "If you were to sleep in here and someone tried to come after you, you'd be dead without me being able to do anything. This way, with my superior skills as the Knight of Nine, if anyone tried anything, you'll have nothing to worry about."
Okay, it made some sense, Ciaran had to grant her that.
"But what if they sneak past you and come in to the bedroom?" He asked.
"You've got your gun." The woman said simply, talking about Ciaran's holster hanging from his belt over one of the top corner bedposts like in one of Clint Eastwood's Westerns.
"Yeah, fat lot of good it did me last time..." He grumbled out before turning towards the bedroom. "You ready to go to sleep?"
"You bet." Nonette replied as she climbed underneath her sheet. "Just switch off the light when you go out."
"Will do. Good night."
"'Night."
Exiting the room, Ciaran pressed his hand against the switch on the wall and plunged the room in to darkness before he made his way in to the co-opted bedroom. It wasn't really anything spectacular really, being much more plain than the bedroom he had at the Viceroy's Palace. Which for a few short nights stay wasn't a bad thing. Moving in to the room, switching off the light as he went, Ciaran climbed under the covers and put his head against the soft, downy pillow. Reaching up, he groped around a bit in the darkness until his hand touched the grip of his pistol.
Drawing the weapon from it's holster, he gave it a quick going over with his fingers: the safety was on but the hammer was cocked. One round had been chambered, ready for any follow up attacks, so he replaced the weapon in it's holster and tried to settle in for some sleep.
Tried being the operative word.
When he closed his eyes, he couldn't see the normal blackness that would normally greet him as he tried to fall to sleep. Instead he was greeted with the same corridor he was in before. Turning this way and that, Ciaran saw that both ends stretched off for miles in both directions. The only discernible break in the infinitely stretching hallway was a figure dressed in a pale blue uniform with blonde hair.
"Just give up, son." The assassin said in a horribly raspy voice. "It'll be over in a minute."
Terror seized Ciaran's limbs, holding him tight to the spot as he tried to turn and run away. In a heartbeat, the man was on him, bearing him down the ground, his hands seizing tightly around the Briton's neck as he had tried to choke him to death again. Looking up, Ciaran saw the man's face twisted in a horrifying grin which revealed bright white and sharp teeth as his eyes bored in to intently. Only instead of a pair of normal blue eyes, they were animalistic orbs, the slitted pupils filled with anger and fire as they stared at him.
As his grip tightened around Ciaran's neck, the young man tried moving his hands to either dislodge the hands around his neck, he found that he was unable to move them. Attempting to move them, he felt as though his hands and his limbs were buried in something sticky but at the same time solid. Tilting his head slightly to the side, his eyes opened wider in terror than they were before as he saw that the fabric of the carpet had morphed in to something viscous, almost like slime, and what was worse is that it was dragging him down.
No matter how hard he fought against them, the slime floor and the assassin were making him sink deeper in to the ground. He could feel it creeping up his face, the sludge becoming alive as it sought to assist the assassin in killing him.
The man's face was changing too, twisting as he bore down on to Ciaran. The skin was slewing away slowly, almost like it was melting as it slid down on to the young man's face or merged with the slime around them, revealing the man's skull underneath with his eyes still in their sockets, still fixated on Ciaran's demise. With those sharp skeletal teeth leering at him evilly.
His vision began going black, either from lack of oxygen or from the slime coming up to envelope him, he wasn't sure. But despite it all, he tried crying out for help, shouting any name he could thing of in a raspy voice.
"Go on, scream all you want," The demonic assassin taunted as his voice took on a duel-tone quality, sounding both high-pitched like a child's and low like a grown man's. "No-one's going to safe you this time!"
The man let out a booming laugh which echoed through Ciaran's ears even as he felt himself be submerged in to blackness, while at the very limits of his hearing, he heard someone calling out his name, a woman's voice calling out to him...
Ciaran suddenly felt his whole body be pulled upwards as Nonette yanked him upright before she practically screamed in to his face, "Ciaran, snap out of it!"
Snapping open his eyes and clearing away the darkness as the harsh light of the bedside lamp filled his vision, the young man was met with a look on the champagne-haired woman's face that he never thought he'd ever see: a look of abject fear on the her face.
Opening his mouth, Ciaran tried to speak her name but he could only get a single syllable out before pain shot through his neck. Looking down, his eyes opened wide as he realised why Nonette had look so terrified: his own hands were clasped around his neck.
His body began trembling as he moved his hands away and he looked down at them, his hands shaking almost violently as he tried to work his mouth, to say something, anything.
"Ciaran?" Nonette asked, placing her hands on to his shoulders.
"I... I..." He stammered out, looking up from his hands in to the Knight of Nine's blue eyes before his vision became blurred with tears and his body pitched forward to collide with Nonette's chest, the woman easily withstanding the impact. Although she obviously didn't expect for the young man to began sobbing his hear out.
"Hey hey hey." Nonette said, trying to calm Ciaran down, gently pulling him in to a hug. "Ciaran? Wha-what's going-"
"Nonette, I'm scared!" The Briton bawled out loudly. "So much is happening so quickly, and none of it's making sense."
"What are you talking about?" Nonette asked, gently taking the young man's face in her hands as she lifted it up so she could look at it properly, even as tears streaked down his cheeks.
"Everything that has happened since I arrived in Area 11; Saitama, Kawaguchi, I thought I could handle it all, and it looked like I could. But then everything started changing, at Kitakyushu, at Nagano and Narita. Everything was coming, so much and so quickly; being asked to figure out how to fight the Black Knights, being given command of a battalion. And now THIS!" He practically screamed out the last word, before his voice dropped in volume. "Nonette... I'm scared."
And it was true. At Kitakyushu, Nagano and Narita, his fear of combat had been tempered by the fact that he truly wasn't facing ant of the dangers by himself and he could call on someone for backup. But this; the assassination attempt. That had been foiled purely by chance. If that man had caught Ciaran by himself, if Villetta had just walked away when she had introduced them, if he hadn't called out Nonette's name when he did...
The young man didn't fight the tears that came to him as he slumped forward again, feeling Nonette move her hands from his face and on to his shoulders as she pulled him in to a hug. She didn't say anything to him, just letting him bawl his eyes out to his hearts content. Moving slowly, she shifted her body to lie down on the bed before she gently pulled down Ciaran with her, bringing him to lay gently against her chest.
"It's all right, Ciaran." The Knight of Nine whispered softly, like she wanted him and only him to hear her words. "Just let it out."
Reaching over Ciaran's body, she felt around for the switch for the lamp before flicking it off, plunging the pair in to darkness once more, the sound of the young man's sobs filling the space before they petered off in to quiet sobs.
The nightmare didn't return.
It was the loud sound of base's bugler playing his instrument loudly through the loudspeakers around the base that roused Ciaran from his sleep, making him groan as he came out of his sleep slowly, pushing his head in to his pillow. But the music wasn't going anywhere fast, so the young man was cruelly pulled from his sleep. Groggily turning over, he opened his eyes slowly as he fumbled around for the mobile phone he had put on to his bedside table the the night before before finding it and reading the time display.
5:00
Managing to bring himself out of sleep slowly but surely, the young man laid down on to his side to let him get his bearings. His eyes stung a bit, forcing him to blink quickly. His pillow and cheeks were wet too, which made for an uncomfortable bed to lie on. Pushing himself up to lean on his hands, he looked at his pillow and the giant wet stain on it in confusion.
"What happened last night?" He asked himself, honestly confused.
The sounds of someone groaning softly behind him made Ciaran turn on the spot to see Nonette lying in the bed beside him, making his eyes open wide in shock. Her long hair was strewn around her head, giving her a champagne-green halo against the pillow, while her t-shirt was slightly bunched up around her waist, revealing a very trim and subtle set of abs. But other than that, nothing looked out of the ordinary.
He moved his neck to the side, to try and get a crick out of the bone, before pain lanced up through the neck, making him groan out loudly in discomfort.
In return, Nonette gave out a groan of her own at Ciaran's loud exclamation as she woke up, blinking her eyes slowly before turning to look at the young man next to her.
"Good morning." She said, stretching her arms above her head as she pushed her torso up as she worked out the kinks from her back. "Did you sleep better?"
"... a little bit." Ciaran said, smilingly sadly. "You?"
"Like a log." The Knight of Nine replied as she sat upright. Beside her, the young man just sat still, looking down at the foot of the bed.
He was ashamed of what had happened to him last night. It had been been the second time since arriving in Area 11 that he had broken down in front of someone he trusted, but this time, it probably had to be the most serious one. Ciaran knew that she had taken it all in stride but he had no idea how she would take it in the morning.
"I'll go for a shower first, if you don't mind." Nonette said, climbing out of the bed and headed towards the bathroom.
'Ah, fuck it.' The young man said to himself. "Nonette, I-gah!"
A t-shirt being thrown at him full force in the face cut Ciaran off mid-sentence as it covered his face. Taking it off quickly, the young man was ready to retort but the sight before him made him shut his mouth. It wasn't the fact that Nonette was standing no more than three feet in front of him in just a pair of panties, with her hands on her hips and her bust fully on display to him (although he would not deny that that was part of the reason). It was the simple stare she directed at him; a blank stare that at the same time seemed to burn right through him.
"If you think you need to apologise to me: don't." She said flatly. "When you're out there, with all the soldiers, you can act like a hard-arse all you want. But don't try and pretend to be something you're not with me."
Ciaran's eyes opened wide at her words, and even more so as she climbed on to the bed and crawled towards him, her hair falling down the sides of her face as she moved towards him until her face was scant inches away from his.
"Ugh, Nonette? What are you-ow." Once again, he was cut off mid-sentence as Nonette suddenly leaned forward, bumping her forward gently against his head, leaving it there as she put a hand on to his shoulder and closed her eyes.
"Ciaran, if you keep it all in, you'll break apart." Nonette said softly as she nuzzled her forehead against his. "I've seen it before: men and women who think that because they're in positions of power, they need to keep everything bottled up. They're scared that if they let people see their weakness, so they suppress every thing. But then something happens and they snap. Sometimes people turn violent. Sometimes... they lose who they used to be. I don't want to see that happen to you."
The Briton didn't say anything. Although what could he say? She had acknowledged his break down, and had comforted him when he needed it. She had stayed with him all night, and had not changed her opinion of him in the morning.
Bringing his hands up, Ciaran wrapped them around Nonette's shoulders as he pulled her in to a hug of his own, resting his head against the side of hers as a smile spread across his face.
"You're a good friend, Nonette." He said.
"I try to be." The woman said, before she moved away from the young man and climbed off the bed. "Now, I'm going for a shower. Don't worry, I'll be quick."
Ciaran nodded his head as he watched the woman saunter away from him, swaying her hips from side to side as she went, making the young man roll his eyes before the sound of the shower running reached his ears. Still seated on the bed, he turned to look at the phone sitting on the bedside table before reaching over and pulling it to him. Flipping open the screen, he pressed the series of buttons which brought up his contacts.
Cornelia. Darlton. Dorothea. Euphemia. Guilford. Nonette.
All of them were people he had befriended and had eventually come to love in some form. They had seen him in various states of distress, in some form or another; Cornelia, Darlton and Guilford had been the first ones to meet him after all, Euphemia and Darlton had been with him after Saitama, Dorothea and Cornelia had helped him after Kitakyushu and he had learnt from the Second Princess how deeply him being taken captive had affected her.
Ciaran knew that he could trust any of them with anything, especially Cornelia from his interactions with her. And if he began acting oddly, he knew that he could count on at least one of them to help him deal with it.
He was tempted to send a message to one of them, but he was not wholly sure of the time difference between Sacramento and Tokyo so he decided against it. Besides, the sound of someone knocking on the door drew his immediate attention.
"Ciaran! Door!" Nonette called out from the shower as the young man climbed off of the bed.
"Already on it!" Padding across the floor quickly, using the bottom of his t-shirt to wipe at his face to get rid of any tears that still remained before he approached the door and opened it. He was not all that surprised to see that it was General Darlton on the other side of the door. "Ah. Good morning, general."
"Good morning, Ciaran." The scarred man said happily. "Is Nonette up?"
"Shower." He replied, pointing a thumb over his shoulder.
"Ah good. So she can wake up before noon." Darlton said in good humour, before looking at the young man in slight confusion. "Are you all right, Ciaran?"
"Ugh... in truth, sir? N... no. Not really." Ciaran admitted hesitantly before stepping to one side of the door. "I'll tell you inside."
The general nodded his head before stepping inside Nonette's room, the young man closing the door behind them. As the door clicked shut, the sound of the shower switching off reached Ciaran's ears and soon enough, the champagne-haired Knight of Nine walked out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel as she was drying off her hair by hand.
"Ah, Darlton!" She said happily. "Good morning."
"Morning Nonette." Darlton responded a bit warily, looking around the room he was in with an appraising eye. "Did something happen last night?"
Nonette stopped drying her hair, keeping the towel pressed against her head as she looked at Darlton then to Ciaran then back to the general. "Yeah, something happened with Ciaran last night."
"Oh please don't say it like that." The young man groaned out as he saw the older man arc an eyebrow at the Lady Knight's words before he turned to look at Ciaran. "I... I had a... a break down."
Darlton looked at Ciaran with an open-mouthed expression of shock before he closed it and approached the young man, putting a gentle hand on to his shoulder. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Looking at the taller man for a few seconds, Ciaran was unsure whether he really should say what he had to say, but looking past him and meeting Nonette's eyes told him that he should tell Darlton about what happened.
"All right then." He said, gesturing for the general to sit down on the couch, after moving Nonette's blanket to the side, giving the pair a place to sit. To their side, the still-wet Knight of Nine sat down on the arm of the couch as she carried on drying off her hair. "Basically... I'm scared, sir."
"Scared?" Darlton asked.
"Things keep changing so rapidly for me. It's... well, it's just everything that's been happening to me. I've had so much happen to me in just a month and... honestly? I'm not sure if I can handle it, sir."
Darlton looked at the young man to beside him in quiet shock before he took in a deep breath. "All right. I get what you mean."
From her seat on the end of the couch, Nonette had finished drying her hair and set her towel on to her shoulders as she watched the whole thing as the general continued speaking.
"How long have you been feeling like this?"
"I think I started feeling that way after Kitakyushu, sir." Ciaran responded, rubbing his hands nervously over his knees.
"And you only really started feeling this way after tonight, right?" The general asked.
"It was right before midnight." Nonette spoke up, making Darlton nod his head in understanding as he put a hand to his chin in thought.
It took a few long seconds of too awkward a silence before the general, after slapping his hands gently against his thighs, stood up from his seat and turned to look at Ciaran. Looking up, the young man saw a sincere but sad smile on Darlton's face.
"I'm glad you told me about this, Ciaran." The general said as he put his hands on to the young man's shoulders. "But I won't say anything now."
Ciaran's eyes opened wide in shock at the revelation, opening his mouth to speak before Darlton cut him off by continuing to speak.
"I know that you probably want me to say something, but I want you to talk about this with Guilford." The general said sympathetically. "Technically, as Cornelia's Knight, he is in command of her Royal Guard, so you should take it up with him."
"Hey, that's no problem." Nonette said happily, as she got up off of her seat and headed towards the bedroom to get dressed. "Gil's a nice guy, so I know that if you tell him all of this, he'll help you out."
"She's not wrong." Darlton said as the bedroom door closed. "But, if you don't mind me saying this, I think you need to tell Cornelia about this."
Ciaran opened his mouth to speak before shutting it again and nodding his head. "Yeah, you're right. It's the right thing to do."
A small smile from the general and a nod told Ciaran that that was the right thing to do.
"All right. Go and get a shower, get dressed in to your uniform and then we can go for breakfast." The general said, patting Ciaran on the shoulder before turning to walk out of the room, leaving the young man in the room alone.
Okay, that... that went better than he had thought it would. It was not a real lie that the military life was very much a "men's club", where you had to be tough and strong to survive. But it really had to be due to his unique position in this new world that being where he was provided him with the freedom in being able to express himself like that.
Standing up from his seat and walking towards the bathroom, he began taking his clothes off as he entered the white tiled room and switched on the shower. Soon, the sound of warm water hitting the porcelain of the bathtub filled the room before Ciaran stepped in to the spray of water, getting rid of the built-up sweat and dead skin he had accumulated during the night, along with the tense feelings he had.
He spent a few extra minutes neatening up his appearance, making himself look more like an officer of the Britannian army than a scared young man. After the shower, he gave himself a quick groom with the electric razor he had been given by Cornelia after his arrival in Area 11 and trimmed his facial hair before moving in to the bedroom and promptly changed in to his combat uniform. Ciaran would gladly admit it that the new uniforms were just that bit more comfortable than his Royal Guard uniform. During all of this, Nonette, fully dressed in her own uniform, had been waiting patiently in the living room area, absently flipping through a magazine she had brought with her. When he had finished, the Knight of Nine put down her book and pushed herself up from her seat before standing in front of Ciaran.
"Ready for something to eat?" She asked.
"As ready as I'll ever be." He replied humourlessly, which in turn earned an unamused smile from the older woman before, without saying a word, she gently took Ciaran's hand in one of her own and she guided him out of the door towards the exit and a quiet meal. It was the least the young man deserved.
The officer's mess was a well furnished room, made to look like the interior of an old English country manor. One side of the room was filled with a well-stocked, and currently unmanned, bar while in front of that were numerous long tables fashioned from oak, around which sat several dozen officers, dressed in either the pale-blue or dark-grey uniforms of the Britannian infantry or the blue-grey uniform of the Britannian Air Force. All were either dining on their breakfasts or engaged in quiet conversation. Along the opposite wall was a fully stocked food bar.
After being shown in by one of the stewards, the duo quickly looked around before finally spying the form of General Darlton sitting at a table, with Lieutenants Fick and Walker, the latter dressed in the light-blue uniform, talking quietly with the general while Villetta merely sat in her chair, slumped forward on the table with her head resting against her folded arms.
"Good morning, everyone." Nonette said merrily, the people at the table returning similar greetings as she put her hands on to the back of one of the empty chairs. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm famished. What about you, Ciaran?"
"Oh, definitely." The young man said, caught right in the middle of moving his own chair back. "What would you like?"
"No, it's all right." The Knight of Nine replied, waving off the comment. "You sit down and I'll get our breakfast. Two sausages, two poached eggs, beans and toast, right?"
The young man looked at the older woman in surprise before nodding his head, causing Nonette to smile at him before walking off to where the food was.
"That was a bit weird." He said as he sat down.
"Really? I hadn't noticed." Villetta's slightly muffled voice commented, earning a raised eyebrow from the young man.
"Well you're unusually bitter today." Ciaran said in reply. "What's eating you?"
Letting out a weary sigh, the tawny-skinned woman lifted her head and looked at the man sitting across from her. Without thinking about it, Ciaran quickly suppressed the snigger that came to his throat at the sight of his second-in-command's face: dark circles were forming under her eyes while her eyes themselves were the type of bloodshot that could only come about from lack of sleep.
"Ah, what goes around, comes around, eh, Villetta?" He said, leaning back in his chair slightly, looking quite a bit like the cat that got the cream.
"Yes, yes. I deserved this." Villetta replied, sounding fairly annoyed at the whole proceedings. "You were right: General Darlton is a horrible snorer."
Looking to his side, Ciaran saw the tall man look away with a guilty expression on his face while Lieutenant Fick let a small smile play on his face. Only the ginger-haired Walker was confused by the whole proceedings, if the look on his face was any indication.
"When we arrived in Sacramento early on the Wednesday morning, I had to share a room with the General." Ciaran elaborated. "And, combined with my general lack of sleep from my inability to fall asleep on a plane, his snoring kept me awake virtually throughout the night. A fact that Miss Villetta found to be quite funny."
This earned a small groan from the silver-haired woman. "Fair is fair, I suppose."
"Would you rather have someone try to kill you instead?" The young man asked quickly and icily. It was only when he saw everyone at the table looking at him with a look of extreme shock that he realised what he had exactly said. His head dropped in shame as he let out a weary sigh. "I'm sorry. That... that was totally uncalled for."
"No. No, it's all right." Villetta said, looking a bit more awake now. "After what happened to you last night, I think you deserve to be a bit snippy."
"Still, that was rude." Ciaran said, bringing his hands up to his face before rubbing them up and down slightly, groaning out loudly. "Ugh. I can't wait to get back to Area 11. How are we on the equipment? Everything squared away?"
"The tech-crews pulled an all-nighter getting the Valkyrs in to the stratofreighters." Walker answered, taking a small sip from his own cup of coffee. "Those things are designed to carry a G-1 plus a full squadron of Knightmares, so six helicopters shouldn't be too much of a stretch for it. Although getting those rotors off was certainly a pain."
"I can only imagine." The young man replied. He remembered seeing pictures of helicopters being transported with their rotors folded together for easy transport, but he'd never seen any showing ones with coaxial rotors. Still, it was better than going by boat, that was sure.
"Breakfast is served!" Nonette sang out merrily as she appeared out of nowhere, a tray held in her hands containing two plates of food and two cups of fresh coffee, one of each which she set in front of Ciaran. "So what we talking about?"
"Just about all of the stuff we need to do before we head back to Area 11." Ciaran replied as he picked up his knife and fork and began digging in to his food, while the champagne-haired woman put down the tray and her own breakfast.
"Which also means you'll need to face Nellie about last night." The Knight replied as she gave her coffee a gentle blow before taking a sip.
"Yeah, I know." He replied with a mouthful of sausage and beans. "Won't lie; that scares me more than anything else."
"Nah. You've been through worse." Nonette responded, her own fork, laden with food, centimetres from her mouth before she unceremoniously shoved it all in, before she look at Ciaran with a sideways glance. "She'll understand though. Trust me."
The Briton returned the smile as he continued digging in to his breakfast. For the next few minutes, idle chatter was made while the captain and the Knight of Nine ate their meals. The topic of what happened last night was avoided out of courtesy, with the group instead focusing on getting the battalion to Area 11 as quickly and as effortlessly as possible.
Which unfortunately brought the talk to the events of the previous night.
"The men are on edge, sir." Lieutenant Fick said, downing the last of his coffee before putting the cup down. "They don't like the fact that someone tried to go after you and Miss Villetta last night."
"Don't tell me they're scared, man." Walker said, confused by his fellow officer's words.
"Oh, they're not scared, sir. They're angry." Fick responded. "They've grown fond of Mr Forsyth and Miss Villetta, and they're... well, permission to speak frankly, sir?"
"Granted." Ciaran said, nodding his head as he put his knife and fork together on his now empty plate. "But keep it quiet."
"Sir. Well, basically, they are fucking pissed." Fick almost whispered out. "Alpha Platoon is the worst for it since they see themselves as the captain's personal platoon."
If he said that he wasn't shocked, then Ciaran would definitely be lying.
"How pissed would you say they were, Fick?" Darlton asked, taking over from the young man's shocked state, while also intent on learning more about this latest development.
"Enough to nearly cause problems with the provosts. Some of the men said that it should be them being on guard, not the provosts. And when they were told by the Provost Captain that they were to be confined to quarters for the night, things nearly got nasty until Pappy- that is, Sergeant Patrick- calmed things down."
Ciaran was still in a mild state of shock at the news when he felt a hand come to rest on his shoulder. Looking to his side, he saw Nonette smiling warmly at him while behind her, Darlton was giving him an 'I told you so' look, which made the young man smile warmly in reply.
"Well then." He said as he reclined back in his chair. "Let's hope we can put that anger to good use, shall we?"
The general raised his own cup in a toast. "Let's. But first: a toast. To the 332, the Warhounds."
Each person at the table picked up their own cups and lifted them up to join Darlton's in a toast. "To the Warhounds!"
The outburst earned a few confused glances from the other patrons of the mess, but they soon turned back to their own business, having heard a few declarations like that before. Setting cups and cutlery aside, Ciaran's group stood up from their seats. Turning to face his counterpart, Fick held his hand out to Walker.
"Well, I guess this is goodbye, Gregor." The blonde-haired lieutenant said as the Army Airman took the offered hand and shook it.
"I doubt this will be the last time we see each other, Nate." Walker replied with a thin smile.
"I'm sorry that you can't join us in Area 11." Ciaran said. "I can't really say it's fair that I can only have two junior NCOs. Especially since Butcher Squadron would technically be your unit."
"It's what happens, sir." The Army Airman said, shrugging his shoulders. "But I will have to say, I do thoroughly believe that the men are in good hands."
The dark-haired Briton smiled warmly at the comment as he walked over and put out his own hand for the lieutenant to shake. "Well, all I can say, Mr Walker, is: good luck to you, and I hope we meet again."
"And the same to you, Captain Forsyth." Walker replied, the smile on his face making his acne scars bunch up slightly.
Walking forward, Darlton held out his own hands as he gave a silent farewell to the officer in the form of a handshake and a nod of his head which Walker returned. Nonette, in her indefatigable style, she closed on the airman and gave him a large hug, which somewhat startled the man but he simply shrugged and returned the hug, albeit somewhat hesitantly. After he was released from the hug, Walker followed the social protocol and bowed his head to the Knight before she and the group left for their rooms.
It didn't take long for Ciaran to pack the few final bits of his stuff in to a small carry on bag, which left the room he shared with Nonette for the night completely spotless, with Nonette trailing a medium sized, wheeled suitcase behind her as they left the room. Waiting for them outside in the hallway, Darlton and Villetta were waiting with Fick and Reynolds, each of them with their bags resting at their feet while they talked quietly amongst themselves.
"Okay, what's up?" The young man asked, becoming very suspicious about any of the people he knew talking in hushed tones when he wasn't around.
Looking from person to person, the group stayed quiet for a few embarrassed seconds before the scarred general spoke up. "I got a head's up report from the Provost Marshal. He says that the man who attacked you hasn't been identified. No dental records, no medical records, no fingerprints, nothing. As far as Stirner's concerned, the man was a ghost."
Feeling his arm drop from his grip on the duffel bag on his shoulder, Ciaran felt his throat tighten up again, even if he realised that he should have seen coming. "And... what does that mean?"
"Unfortunately, for now," Darlton answered. "It means that his investigation on this attack will have to be closed. Sorry."
The young man felt Nonette put a hand on to his shoulder, giving it a gentle, friendly rub as he processed the news.
"So... any good news to tell me?" He asked hesitantly.
"Well, in his learned opinion, and my own as well, you won't be a target for a good while." Darlton said with a small smile. "Assassin's are opportunistic bastards. If their target proves too tough, they'll back off for a good while and think of something else, so that means we have time to prepare too."
Ciaran nodded his head in understanding. If the media was anything to go by, a failed assassination attempt meant a reprieve for the target.
"And-" The general said as he leant down to his bag, unzipping a large pocket before reaching in and pulling out a sizeable brown envelope. "This is for you."
Taking the envelope, Ciaran ripped open the tab and reached inside. Again, his eyes opened wide in shock as his fingers brushed against the last thin he expected to be inside. Withdrawing his hand and holding it open, he tipped up the envelope's contents in to the palm: a sheathed knife, with a blade about seven inches long with a handle made from black leather and a simple hexagonal pommel.
"This-" He began holding the knife gingerly.
"Is the knife from the assassin, yes." Darlton finished for him. "It's kind of... an unwritten law here; if someone tries to kill you but you kill them, you get to keep their weapon."
"... A bit archaic, no?" The young man said as he looked at the weapon closer, feeling the weight as he wrapped his fingers around the grip comfortably. "Nice weapon though."
"It is pretty nice." Nonette observed as she leaned closer to look over Ciaran's shoulder. "If you show that to Cornelia, I think she'll be a bit nicer to you about this whole affair."
"I can only hope." He replied as he opened his own bag and put the knife inside. "Ready to head back?"
The group all answered in the affirmative, before picking up their bags and heading out of the building towards the airstrip and the waiting transport to Area 11.
It would take a little over half a day to reach Tokyo, although Ciaran was just thankful that it was a daytime flight this time. It gave him time to prepare for what he would form Cornelia's particular brand of angry care would manifest itself it.
Sitting in the large and spacious room that served as his officer, Charles zi Britannia looked out of the window with a bored expression on his face as he watched a small group of birds play around in one of the ornamental birdbaths that had been built in the garden behind his office. They were tiny things, with red feathers around their faces while the rest of them was green.
Rosy-faced lovebirds, he reminded himself. They had been brought over from somewhere in Africa as a present for one of his wives, whose name for the life of him he couldn't remember, and had managed to escape.
Guinevere, his eldest daughter had at the time suggested that they simply be exterminated on mass.
"They're nothing but brightly coloured pests." She had said, in that horribly condescending tone she had picked up from her own mother. "Just be rid of them."
It had been Marianne, then still the Knight of Two, who had overturned that decision, not that it really had any hope of going anywhere, by saying that they brought some extra colour and life to the Imperial gardens. In his mind's eye, Charles remembered the sight of the First Princess looking ready to blow a fuse at the idea of the raven-haired woman challenging her idea, but he had quickly put a stop to that, citing that the birds weren't hurting anyone, so they were to be left alone.
Looking back on it, even though it was one of the smallest decisions that Marianne had made before she became Empress, it had to be one of her better ones, purely in terms of how much it made a view out of the windows better for the man in his early sixties. Just watching the little emerald coloured birds flit back and forth as they chirped to each other certainly brought some much needed life to the garden.
Closing his eyes, Charles let out a low sigh as he thought back to one of the times when he would go for a walk in the gardens. Invariably, those sorts of walks would take him to one of the special secluded areas that naturally exist in all gardens, where, wearing a flowing gown of varying shades of blue, Marianne rested on a marble bench. On one of her outstretched hands, a small lovebird sat perched on her fingers, belting out a happy tune as it regarded her with joyful interest.
He could remember the smell of her perfume as it wafted towards him on the air, the smell growing stronger as he walked towards her, a smile forming on her perfect ruby lips as she watched him approach her...
"Something amusing, dear brother?"
The high-pitched voice of VV's childish voice cruelly cut through Charles' nostalgia. He didn't let his displeasure at the act show however as he turned his chair so he could face his diminutive elder brother.
"It's nothing important." The tall man said flawlessly, having grown used to lying to his brother.
"If you say so, brother." VV replied nonplussed. "So... why did you call me here?"
Reaching forward, Charles placed one of his large hands on to a small mauve folder that rested on his desk. The folder bore the cap badge of the Britannian Military Provosts: a crown mounted over a laurel wreath with "C I" sitting between them, the Latin words for his name and title; Charles Imperator.
"This report was sent to Bismarck, saying that last night in Sacramento Air Base, an assassin attacked and tried to kill a member of Cornelia's Royal Guard, a Captain Ciaran Forsyth. He was stopped by Knight of Nine, Lady Nonette. Before he could be questioned however, he committed suicide with a suspected cyanide pill." Interlocking his fingers, the emperor rested his elbows against the desk top as he looked down at VV. "You wouldn't happen to have anything to do with this now, would you, dear brother?"
In reply, the blonde-haired immortal simply stared at his brother for a few seconds before he simply shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe. What of it?"
Charles let out a sigh in frustration. "Brother, you know that in the past I have tolerated your way of... taking care of your problems. The people you've removed have been people who would not garner too much suspicion if they turned up dead. But to try and remove a member of Cornelia's Royal Guard?"
"What does it matter, Charles?" VV asked incredulously. "He survived and the assassin is dead. No-one will be able to trace it to me or the Geass Order."
"Brother," Charles said. "Attacking this man was one of the biggest mistakes you could have done for our plan. Not only did he survive, but you also brought Cornelia, this country's top general AND a Knight of the Round. Both of whom, if you decided to remove them, would cause a large amount of public outcry, which is something we do not need."
He had to admit it, but Charles took a small measure of delight in seeing the look of anger that that flashed across VV's face.
"They are your daughter and Knight." The child-sized immortal practically hissed out, a scowl on his face. "Just order them to forget about it."
Charles couldn't fight the snort that came to his throat. Not that he even tried. "Brother, you know how these two get when their interest in something is piqued. Or when their ire is raised. Do you remember how they reacted to Marianne's death?"
That had been one of the closest calls that the middle-aged man could remember, barring the occasional past assassination attempt of course. The pair, who both seemed to loved the former Knight of Two almost as much as he had, and when they had learnt about her death, he thought that the pair were going to almost literally tear Pendragon apart. If it hadn't been for the intervention of Schneizel, that might have very well been the case.
For his part, VV merely let out a small huff and pout at the memory. "Very well then. I'll be more... discreet this time."
"Good." Charles nodded his head in response. "But tell me; why are you after him anyway? What has he done to deserve being killed?"
For a few seconds, his elder brother refused to meet his gaze, either due to him wanting to avoid looking at Charles or merely searching his brain for the right words to say. After a few seconds, VV finally spoke.
"Do you remember a few years back when one of our researchers on Geass suggested that there might be a way to use the Collective Unconscious to... well to reach out in to other Collectives that existed in hypothetical multiple or parallel universes?"
Charles stared at VV disbelievingly. "Isn't this the same guy who said that you could use pigeons as carriers for a Geass Code?"
"Yeah, he was a bit mad." The blonde immortal agreed, nodding his head sadly. "However... this time? He may not have been as mad as we thought."
As the 98th Emperor of the Holy Britannian Empire, Charles liked to think that he was a man who had seen and heard all that their was under the sun. When he had originally found out about Geass, he would readily admit that he had originally been taken aback, but he had quickly taken it in his stride, especially when he saw the benefits that such a power could give to him.
But this?
"Brother, are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" He asked warily, absolutely refusing to believe what his brother had just said to him.
"I'm not suggesting anything, Charles." VV said flatly. "I'm telling you outright. That man being here is a result of our experiment in to see if we can reach in to those other universes via the Collective Unconscious."
The 98th Emperor stared at his brother in absolute disbelief as his hands fell on to the desk. "How did you accomplish that?" He asked.
VV shrugged in reply. "Our researchers are still trying to figure that out. He should have ended up in our facility in Mongolia, but instead he wound up in Area 11. None of them can tell why and they're not really sure they can figure it out either."
Putting a hand against his chin, Charles mulled over what he had just been told. This whole thing was a concept that he had never thought of or even imagined. Taking someone from one universe and transporting them to another was... unthinkable, not just in the idea but the act as well.
"Brother," He said, managing to come down from his shock. "I need to ask you one question: does this man pose any threat to our plan?"
Again, VV shrugged. "I do not know."
"So then might not this whole assassination attempt be a bit... unnecessary?"
The small immortal seemed to mull over the question for a few seconds before his eyes opened in shocked realization. "That... might be true."
"Just something for you to think about, brother." Charles said, sounding quite pleased at getting one over his brother. "Might I suggest that you only try and deal with him if and when he actually becomes a threat. All right?"
"... All right." VV said begrudgingly. "Is that all?"
"Yes, that is all, brother. Have a good day." The grey-haired man replied as he turned his chair back to look at the lovebirds flitting around the garden. The faintest sound of the door to his office clicking shut told Charles that VV had left the room, waiting a few seconds in silence to make sure that he was truly alone before he opened up a small panel that was embedded in to one of the arms of his chair, pressing a small button which activated a speaker, connecting him to his herald's office a dozen feet away from his office. "Send for Bismarck."
No reply came through the speaker but then again, none was needed as the herald quickly went about fetching the Knight of One. And, sure enough, maybe a half minute or so later, a trio of heavy but measured knocks came from the other side of the oak portal.
"Come in, Bismarck." Charles said, not bothering to turn his seat around. Even when he heard the door open and shut, the man didn't turn around to acknowledge that the Knight of One was standing behind him.
"You sent for me, Your Highness." The tall man acknowledged, replying curtly.
Turning his seat around, Charles looked up at Bismarck's face. It was generally considered wise, if a person was picking a bodyguard, that it was best to pick someone taller than you, or at least make them appear to be taller than you. Lord Bismarck Waldstein, the Lord Knight of One, definitely fell under the former. Standing at over seven feet tall, with a permanent tan, shoulder-length black hair, he was an intimidating man, even if he didn't have his left eye sewn shut.
"Yes I did, Bismarck." The emperor said, lifting the folder in front of him and presenting it to the Knight. "You have read this, correct?"
Bismarck nodded his head. "I have, Your Highness. While, as her superior, I can applaud Lady Nonette for coming to the young man's defence, the fact that she has ended up tangled in something she very definitely shouldn't? She's put herself in danger now."
Charles nodded his head as he put the folder down again. "Agreed. My brother does not really care who gets in his way. 'The ends justify the means' is his motto in life, it seems."
'Especially considering her murdered my wife.' He thought to himself.
"So what do you suggest we do, My Lord?" The Knight of One asked.
"We can't do anything with Cornelia. She's a big girl, so she can look after herself. The same with this... Captain Forsyth." He had to jog his memory for the man's name. "However, with Nonette and Dorothea being in Area 11, it makes it a bit harder for us to keep an eye on them."
"Shall I issue the order for them to return to the Homeland, My Lord?" Bismarck asked.
"Do it." Charles said simply, nodding his head indicating that the matter was at an end. Bowing his head curtly, Bismarck turned on his heels and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him as the emperor turned his chair to face the window again.
Once again alone in the silence of his office again, Charles zi Britannia watched the small green lovebirds finish up their time in the birdbath before they flitted away, chirping happily as they went.
A small, amused smile came to the man's lips. 'Well, that was certainly interesting.' He thought to himself.
AN: And chapter 25 is finally up! A minor personal update: still not got a job (as of time of posting this chapter), but I am going to be having an interview/taster day with one of the big retail chains in the UK on the 6th, so wish me luck for that. Hopefully, if I get that, then it'll mean I can go some way to getting a new laptop.
Honestly, not much to say on this one. I've been liking to imagine that Nonette is the kind of woman who would be big sisterly to nearly everyone she met, so I did try to get that across a bit in this chapter. Again, CLAMP REALLY dropped the ball on so many of their characters.
A note on me using the term 'provosts' for the military police: since I imagined that the Britannian military is based more heavily on the organization of the British Army during the Napoleonic Era, then the military police would be the provosts. I also have absolutely zero clue how the military police, anywhere, would handle such a thing like an assassination attempt on a senior officer, but I imagine that it would probably happen enough that they would know how to deal with it. Also, the idea of Ciaran keeping the assassin's weapon was something that, after talking about it with AD Fields, would fit in quite well with the whole Britannian Social Darwinism. It also brings up the line from the Necromongers of the Chronicles of Riddick: You keep what you kill. Something which might end up being a tiny bit more prevalent in future chapters.
As for the scene with Charles, VV and Bismarck... I like to imagine that Charles would more than likely end up running damage control on his brother's actions, so he'd probably be quite sick of his brother doing whatever he feels like.
So that's it really. As usual, read, enjoy and review.