Volume 2: Chapter 5: Escalation


Originally Drafted: August 28th, 2022

Originally Uploaded: October 16th, 2022


/ Newcastle, Albion | December 1st, 2558 /

Despite their rather admittedly impressive successes in recent memory: From overwhelming several Reconquista outposts and reclaiming lost territory with the aid of disgruntled commoners who were forced to fight under Reconquista. To the sabotaging of the former Royal Navy's most advanced warships. Prince Wales, the last of the Tudor bloodline, and the would-be King of Albion couldn't help but feel that it wasn't enough.

Standing atop the ramparts of the walls of Newcastle. He could see a perfect view of the setting sun as it sank below the horizon. The clouds that followed the floating island in its wake, obscured it as it went down even further. Bathing the area in a soft warm glow that reminded him of days long past.

From atop the walls. He could see the now lively faces of the men under his command. Ever since they'd received help from the foreigners, their morale had gone up significantly. Their confidence increased and for the first time, things didn't seem to be so bleak. But he knew that was just on the surface.

His hands rubbed the ring that he usually wore on his hand. The Ruby of Wind, a symbol of the Albish Royal Family, and a painful reminder of what he'd lose, should the Reconquista succeed in finally eliminating them.

A matter that was becoming more and more of a great concern. Not just for Albion, but for the rest of the continent as a whole. They could not afford to just abandon the floating island either. If he did so, he'd have no right to claim the throne again, should they ultimately succeed. Something he was all too eager to remind his benefactors.

They weren't very subtle in their suggestions that he should evacuate. To establish a "Government-In-Exile" and denounce Reconquista from afar.

He couldn't afford to do that. For what kind of person would he be, if he were to abandon his people in their time of need. He had to be here, even if it did end up costing him his life. With his intentions relayed they seemed to have dropped the issue. He was almost grateful for that. But it seems his troubles would not end there.

Especially since they still did not know who had supplied the Reconquista in the first place.

In his mind, there were two likely candidates: The Germanians and the Gallians. Though he could not think of a reason for the former to want to engage in a war by proxy against them, he'd much suspected that the Gallians could have had some involvement in this. But for what reason, he did not know.

A madman like Joseph would be unpredictable after all.

Aside from that, Wales' concerns moved over to the increase in firepower his men were now afforded. Having borne witness to just how effective they can be when used properly in combat, Wales had an admiration for firearms.

To most nobles, such weapons would hardly be a concern to them. As in their mind was a deeply rooted belief that their magic could triumph always against an untrained mass of commoners. But, they hadn't witnessed the sheer destructive potential even the "outdated" ones could do. Something Wales had seen first-hand.

He could vividly remember that encounter. Beginning with the sound of gunfire rattling his ears as his men opened fire on an unsuspecting Reconquista supply ship.

Engaging in acts of piracy to sabotage the enemy efforts was part of the norm for him. It was a vital part in relieving some pressure on the men under his command.

But he still wasn't prepared for the carnage his men could now inflict. Unable to retaliate in turn, the unfortunate enemy crew was eliminated in mere moments.

Barely even needing to use his wand. Wales felt like a spectator among them. As brass casing littered the floor of the unfortunate vessel. The bullet riddled holes of their adversaries, the only remnant sign of struggle during the whole thing.

He couldn't deny the effectiveness of these weapons. They'd proven themselves to be a great equalizer among the battlefield. Though to call it a battle would be disingenuous. To him, it was a massacre. One which only fueled his desire to end this war as soon as possible.

"If only things would be that simple." He chastised himself.

The faint noise of revelry in the distance brought him out of his stupor.

The men under him, after the reprieve they had gotten, had decided to host a party. Inviting everyone within the vicinity of Newcastle to attend.

Families, children, elderly, they all came together in this brief moment of peace and happiness. Reminding the Prince that it was too soon to be despairing.

He gave a smile at that. Perhaps it was too soon to think of such things.

His faint optimism was the only thing that held his displeasure of the whole affair at bay. The thought that maybe in the future, he may live to see her again.


Howland Palace, Londinium | December 8th, 2558

The meeting room where most of their decisions were decided was noticeably vacant today.

What would normally be a place occupied by the upper echelons of their ranks, was currently under occupation by only two people. Cromwell, and his secretary Sheffield.

Cromwell paced around the room with impatience. His growing irritation increased with each step he took. His secretary looked on with an expression of boredom all the while.

"This is getting out of hand!" Shouted Cromwell. He was frustrated at the seeming incompetence of those under him.

With every day that passed. More news of apparent setbacks came trickling in. From minor outposts being left barren, save for the corpses of those unfortunate enough to be caught by whatever was "hunting" them for lack of a better word. To the destruction of vital assets in their war effort.

Though, he had to be thankful that not everything was destroyed. They had accumulated a sizable amount of those new firearms. The ones that had been gifted to them by his benefactors. They'd been an effective game changer early on in the war. Winning them their first victory at Lexington, up to their continued push-back against those still loyal to the Crown.

But, much to his displeasure. Not even the new technologies being supplied to them in secret could stop them from occurring. Merely causing mild annoyance to the perpetrator. Much to his chagrin.

Sitting on top of a desk, was his secretary. Seemingly unaffected by everything. She didn't even appear bothered that her carefully laid plans were being brought down.

This angered Cromwell, causing him to point an accusative finger at the woman.

"You," he called out, "You assured me these weapons would be effective. That these would guarantee that the other nations would be brought to our cause when they see and tremble in front of our overwhelming might. But it seems we've been made into nothing but fools."

Sheffield appeared unamused.

She slapped his pointed finger away from her. Causing Cromwell to briefly scowl.

"I assured you they would work against any threat native to you." Sheffield reminded him. "But I will admit. I wasn't banking on the UNSC showing up."

Cromwell could only scoff at that.

"How hard is it to stop one single saboteur? It's not like one person could cause this much trouble." He bemoaned.

Sheffield gave him a shrug. "It's up to you whether you believe it or not. But I know those kinds of people would be the only ones capable of such a thing."

She knew all too well just how capable a single one of those lab-rats could be. Having seen one for herself just how terrifying being on the receiving end of a Spartan could be. It was only through her apparent luck that she managed to escape with her life.

"Well, if it's come to this. Then I suppose there's really only one thing we can do after all." Cromwell said after a moment's contemplation.

"Which is?" Sheffield asked, though she perhaps already knew what the old fool was thinking.

"What else is there to do? Crush the remaining Loyalists under that Prince, like we did King James." Cromwell said as he recalled that memory.

How the King had oh so valiantly stayed behind in Londinium when they came for him. How he stood his ground while he let the last remaining Prince flee southwards.

If only it had ended then and there. Cromwell bitterly thought. But, taking care of him now will suffice.

"Destroy them, and our rule will be secure." He triumphantly declared.


Tristain Academy of Magic, Colbert's Workshop | December 8th, 2558

After Colbert's visit to the UNSC Eternity, he had promptly returned to the Academy. With a parting gift, brought with him.

A circular device that would allow him to speak with the "Eyy Aye" aboard the ship. The spirits were a wealth of knowledge and being able to speak to them regarding such things was something that Colbert was all too eager to accept.

With the aid of the ones such as Monty. Colbert was able to make strides in improving his own little project.

Monty offered insight into Colbert's designs. Teaching him about the various uses his invention could be made to do.

Like a sponge, Colbert absorbed the information as well as he could. Though, at times, it did prove to be a bit confusing and some concepts had to be explained in a way that was more familiar to him.

In the end, the result was a working prototype. A device that could be properly called this world's first engine.

Colbert stood proudly next to his invention. The device sprung to life with a hum that was almost akin to a growl.

Initially wary that things had gone wrong, he was happy to find out it wasn't the case. As it worked as intended. Causing a miniature turbine to rotate with the energy produced.

"It amazes me that such a thing could bring about great things, Ser Monty." Colbert spoke to the holographic figure.

"I aim to please, Professor." Monty replied with a warm smile.

The pair worked well enough together, Colbert wondered what else they could do.

But before he could ask, a knock on the door to his workshop prompted him to turn towards the source of the noise.

"Who is it?" Colbert asked.

"It is me, old friend. I've come to have a little chat." Spoke the voice of Old Osmond, the Academy's Director.

"Ah, come on in then." Colbert invited him in excitedly.

He was hoping to show another person the fruits of his labor. And what better timing than for someone like Osmond to come in.

But as soon as Osmond came in, he noticed the look of weariness on his face.

"Is something the matter?" Colbert asked worriedly.

"Oh, not much. Just that the fools in the Court Royale have been adamant about matters that even they do not understand." Osmond spoke tiredly as he recalled the meeting.

"Ah, politics then. Ironic, since you took up this position to avoid it." Colbert joked.

"Truly." Osmond agreed.

The old mage's gaze scanned the room. Noticing the device Colbert had built in the corner humming with activity.

"Is that what I think it is?" Osmond asked. Pointing a finger towards the direction of the device.

"Yes. I've finally made it work!" Colbert said excitedly.

"It seems congratulations are in order then." Osmond gave out a hearty laugh. Recalling how excited Colbert was in his younger years to develop something that even the commoners could use.

To see his friend accomplish such a thing was a bright spot in the wake of recent events.

"I couldn't have done it without the aid of the UNSC." Colbert replied.

Causing Osmond to freeze in place. Remembering the reason he came in for.

"Ah, yes. You visited them recently, no?" Osmond asked, just to make sure.

"I did." Colbert said as he noticed the shift in tone.

"They came to consult me on certain matters. But in return, they'd helped me in getting my device to a working state."

"Are you still in communion with them?"

Colbert nodded.

Osmond sighed heavily at what he was about to ask.

"Would you mind if you brought someone with you next time you come aboard then?"

Colbert skeptically raised an eyebrow at this.

"That depends on who it would be. I don't think the UNSC would appreciate having just anyone come aboard."

"Believe me, I know." Osmond began to stroke his beard in thought to calm himself. "But, considering you already know this person. It shouldn't be too much of an issue."

"Who did you have in mind?" Colbert asked.

"The youngest Vallière daughter and her father, the Duke Centurion."


UNSC Eternity, Alpha Base | December 10th, 2558

The Duke Vallière and young Louise arrived alongside the Professor at what was considered to be the base of operations of the UNSC.

After a brief introduction and an awkward Pelican ride. The Tristainian delegation had been escorted towards the UNSC Eternity.

Louise couldn't help but stare in awe at how quickly things had changed as they went.

She remembered this region being once just nothing but forest. Known to be inhabited by monsters that would kill unsuspecting travelers. But the UNSC had somehow made a home out of it.

The inside of the base was more akin to a town than a military base now. As she could see what appeared to be housing built in the practical decor of the UNSC's architecture all over the place.

Personnel in more casual clothing dotted the area with only a few uniformed Marines out on patrol to watch for anything amiss.

It was a sight that would have been more at home in a city, not a military base. Thought Louise.

She was unused to seeing them act so… relaxed. She supposed being in what they'd consider a safe area would allow them such a luxury.

As soon as they entered the ship however. It was a surprise to see everyone in a flurry of activity.

Louise could see what she remembered as "pilots" hop into their aircraft in a hurry as the crewmen hurried to load what she recognized to be bombs and ammunition on them.

She shuddered to imagine what kind of situation would require such a thing. And whether or not it would be aimed at them.

"What's going on?" She heard her father ask. The Duke had stopped a UNSC serviceman wearing a brightly colored vest as he attempted to walk past them.

Initially shocked at being interrupted. He shook his head and said, "Got no clue mate. Orders just came to load the birds up." Causing the Duke to be confused.

"Birds?" Centurion said confusedly.

"Yeah, well. Not literal birds." He pointed towards the aircraft within the hangar. "Those things that are painted in black over there. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm in a hurry."

The man hurriedly replied before he left. Not really answering the Duke's initial question.

Utterly confused at the whole thing. The three of them couldn't help but be anxious as to what exactly had gotten them all riled up.

"Perhaps our questions may be answered when we meet with the Captain, mhm?" Colbert suggested.

"Right..." Centurion couldn't help but agree.


/ UNSC Eternity, Bridge | December 10th, 2558 /

Standing in front of the holographic table was Captain Andrew Morgan. After receiving word earlier that day that Reconquista had finally decided to send in a sizable force to subjugate Newcastle, he had been quick to act.

Based on their current estimates. The enemy would arrive at Newcastle within hours. And they only had about that time to figure out a response.

"Enemy force composition is at roughly 100,000 strong." Reported Monty as he went over the reports given by the many agents they had sent to the floating island, courtesy of Lieutenant Redding, who was standing off to the side.

The ONI Lieutenant was observing the developments on the holographic display on the map.

"Did they bring any of their airships out?" Morgan asked. If they were present, it would complicate things even more since it would make maneuvering around them difficult.

"Just a small portion. They've formed a picket line and are preventing anyone from escaping." Monty changed the display to show several airships performing a blockade around the area.

"Damn it. I was hoping we would have time to evacuate them instead." The Captain said as he slammed his fist on the table.

"Why not just eliminate them and be done with it then?" Lieutenant Redding suggested. Causing the Captain to pause in thought.

"What's our fastest way to respond?" Morgan asked the AI.

"Well, we can't deploy our troops in time to back them up. Considering how long it takes to start diverting manpower. But," he paused, "Commander Parker is in low-orbit. We could have her provide fire support from above."

Lieutenant Redding could be heard chuckling at that. "Hellfire from above. That should scare them shitless. Especially if they have no idea where it's coming from."

"Is this funny to you, Oliver?" Morgan chastised the Lieutenant.

"A little bit." Redding admitted, "However it is an option. We can't have them acquiring the equipment we loaned the Prince after all."

"I'd have to agree with the Lieutenant on this one, sir. We should consider it as a last resort."

The Captain couldn't help but shake his head at that. He didn't want to make the call.


The Professor and the Vallière's hurriedly went towards the Bridge. Escorted by a disgruntled crewman who they had coerced into doing so, they were led in front of it.

Only to find that everyone was seemingly busy with various tasks on hand that they hardly were noticed.

Colbert scanned the room, hoping for anyone to help shed light on the situation.

Upon laying his eyes on where the Captain was, he ushered the other two to come with him.

Their quickened pace made the sound of shuffling feet hitting the floor become audibly loud as they noticed stares being thrown their way in response.

The Captain noticed. As he turned to look for the source of the noise, preparing to turn away anyone who had been acting rude enough to do such a thing.

But upon noticing a familiar head of pink hair approaching alongside the Professor and an unfamiliar blond man. His demeanor softened. He'd forgotten that the Professor was going to come here today.

"Professor, it seems you've caught us at a bad time." Morgan said in surprise.

"Well, I suppose the feeling is mutual." Colbert replied. "What exactly is going on here, Captain?"

Morgan froze. He hadn't informed the Tristainians after all about what they were doing. He was unsure as to how to explain this to them.

Unfortunately for him, Lieutenant Redding spoke up. "Nothing for you to concern yourselves over. Just a little dispute we need to settle."

"Dispute? What manner of trouble would cause your men to appear so alarmed then?" Centurion spoke up.

"I'm sorry, and you are?" Morgan interrupted before Redding could speak.

"The Duke de la Vallière. And I demand an explanation."

"Ah, Louise's father." He thought out loud as his gaze turned to the girl. Who had shuffled behind her father to avoid the stares thrown their way.

"Well, Duke Vallière. It's just as the Lieutenant said, just a little dispute that we'd hopefu-" Morgan tried to explain before he was cut off.

"I don't want to hear your excuses. We're well aware of your involvement in local affairs." The Duke raised a hand at that.

"You already knew?" Redding said in mild surprise.

"Of course. Tristain and Albion have always enjoyed close ties together. It shouldn't be too much of a surprise for us to notice." Centurion said as he crossed his arms.

"Well, I suppose news does travel fast then."

"Out with it then." The Duke demanded, "What has gotten you all riled up?"

Before the Captain could reply. The holographic figure of Monty appeared to deliver the news.

"Update on the Albish front, sir. It seems the siege of Newcastle has begun."


Author's Note: Howdy! Been a while huh? Apologies for the delay. Took a bit for me to get used to the swing of things again. But, for now, this is what I've gotten done.

I could have made it longer, but it just came off as redundant with how often I've ended up repeating things. So, I'm sorry if it ends up feeling rushed.

At the rate things are going, the Albion arc should be over soon.

Up next: An Interlude. Let's see what the Sangheili are up to.

P.S. I've been considering changing the name of the fic. As I've felt that the current title is a bit too weeb-y. I'd appreciate suggestions, but, it's not set in stone.


If you have any suggestions or comments. Feel free to join the Discord server: /sDgJN8F4tY

Thanks for reading. And as always. I'll see you in the next one. じゃ、またね