Order 25: Battle of Britain
By: SleepyNinja
Disclaimer: Don't own Hellsing and not making a dime. I'm not even making any pennies off of this whatsoever. The entire idea goes out to the creator of the show itself, not me.
A/N: Insert random whoring for review here.
IMPORTANT NOTICE. This chapter has a POV switch to first person! Yay! It changes with the little dashes and you can probably tell who it is.
What makes something human? Is it just defined as DNA? An experience? Sentient though? Appearance? Something else?
A teacher of mine once said the only thing that everyone had in common was "the eventual decay of their carbon based shell". I suppose I don't even have that now. It's funny that I think about this now. At first it was just easier to ignore it. Let work take the place of thought. Now I have time. All the time I need for a few weeks anyway. Locked in a bloody room for killing a catholic.
I used to be human. It isn't as cracked up as everyone makes it out to be. I wasn't happy, but there was always tomorrow wasn't there?
I'm not human now. It doesn't bother me all that much anymore. It really didn't bother me in the first place though. A few things took getting used to, but not many, not very long. Of course I didn't think about it. Only recently.
I still remember when it happened. You'd be amazed some of the stuff you can think up when you're meditating. Or at least trying. I was never into that stuff. If you were going to focus, there was always a punching bag. However Master Hirano was eccentric to say the least. When carrying buckets of water up and down stairs didn't work, he moved onto very large rocks, and then when that posed no problem he moved up to chunks of iron.
I still have a scar on my back where he continually slashed me when I would make a mistake. It's a fading thin line just under the shoulder blades. The sword was blessed, and normally it wouldn't leave a visible mark for this long, but he struck the same place each time. It didn't matter what position I was in, or where I was. It was always the same damn place! I ruined at least three dozen shirts before I just stopped wearing them during practice.
Master Hirano slashed me, then whacked me in the head with the dull edge of the blade so hard I blacked out. When I woke up it was the middle of the day, and the doors were open. So powers restrained by sunlight, a massive headache, and lack of blood kept me on the floor for a while. And when you're laying face down on the floor you start thinking about stuff you normally wouldn't. I suppose that was Master Hirano's way of getting me to think. Blunt but effective. He would always go off on tangents about how you have to think, not just go along with animalistic instinct.
A few hours later when the sun set Master Hirano came to see if I had moved. I kind of had, but kind of not. I had turned to mist without realizing it. It was only when he started speaking that I returned to normal.
I'm a monster. It doesn't really bother me.
I wonder if I should move. I'm sitting upside down on the couch. Feet hanging off the back, my own back pressed against a cushion and my head dangling towards the floor. Nah. Wouldn't do any good. I can't leave and it's not like anyone is coming in.
Seras had been sent on assignment a few hours ago. We're treating any incident as a full scale emergency, and from what I can gather about the meeting a few days ago, we should. I'm next on the list if anything else happens, but I hope not. I've been getting 'the look' from Integra since I go out without a uniform. Of course it really isn't my fault. None of my uniforms survived the trip from the warehouse to the Hellsing manor. Walter said he'd get to it when he could but I don't know how long that will take. I don't know where that man gets all the time to do all the things around here.
Maybe I should get up. All the blood rushing to my head is starting to give me a headache. I push myself up and plant my feet firmly behind the couch. I yawn, stretch, and wonder what I should do.
"Hey," I mutter to myself as I see the bucket full of ice with a bag of blood. "When did this get here?" I grab the bag of blood and move the bucket back. There are some folded clothes behind it. I stop myself before I open the bag and toss it back into the bucket. I pick up what is on top. This must be my new uniform. I can see a pair of black boots next to my feet. They've changed it from dark blue to black, but the familiar Hellsing coat of arms still is on the left breast. I look at my current dress. An old grey t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Probably best to change.
As I tied the last knot on the boots I go to the bathroom mirror. The sleeves are longer for one. They stop a few centimeters away from the elbows. There is a gun holster for the Hellcat that I never bothered to put on, and the back of the shirt has loops for my sword. At least I think it's for my sword. It doesn't matter.
"Get Victoria back here now! I want air control back!" My hands are clenched, pushing against the wood of my desk as I give orders through the intercom. "Get Owens in the air! I want Alucard at the palace! Tell him to stay out of sight!"
The enemies of Her Majesty are numerous, and in this case they're taking the form of under two dozen zeppelins headed towards London, traditional Nazi markings and all. And we don't have any response from any major air force bases. Treacherous monsters.
It doesn't matter. The Queen will be protected at all costs. Monsters that dare to bear their fangs at the face of our country will be crushed above all else.
The noise helicopters make gets really annoying after some time. It doesn't help that the sun is still out, at least for a few more minutes. One minute I'm moping up what is left of a minor incident and the next I'm being rushed off towards London again. From the radio chatter I can hear it sounds like a big deal, and no one is doing anything about it. I look out the window and I can see London. Nothing looks too out of place. It's when I look out the other side of the helicopter I see the problem. Nazis.
At first I thought it was joke, but no one ever jokes about work. Except for Jack, but he doesn't count.
The helicopter banks sharply and begins its decent. I can already tell where we're landing. A six story building around the edge of town. I can see Walter standing next to a large crate. This is going to be interesting.
Walter approached the helicopter as I jumped out.
"Ms. Victoria, I assume you see our predicament."
"It's rather hard to miss."
"Well," He walked over to the crate and opened a side. He moved aside some packing foam and stood back. "The Halconnen II long range defense cannon. I believe it will be in good hands." The massive weapon gleamed in the fading light. "Ms. Victoria, Sir Integra wanted to give you your orders. 'Don't let them touch English soil.'"
It was very simple, but easier said than done. "Right." I thought the regular Halconnen was a monster, but this took the cake. Two cannons and giant loading mechanisms, how much did this monstrosity weigh? I took out the cannons and leaned them on the crate so I could get the loaders. I grabbed a strap and pulled forward. Not too bad, but there is no way I am going to run with this. I slip the two boxes on like a backpack, and hook up the cannons. I face the incoming fleet and ready my feet for the recoil.
"Ms. Victoria, please try to avoid hitting Mr. Owens' helicopter."
I looked. A helicopter was going around the lead zeppelin like a fly would over a rotting piece of meat. Fire was being exchanged by both sides, and the zeppelin already had several areas that were heavily damaged. I took aim, and fired both cannons.
It was a good thing I had my feet planted. I saw the two shells collide with the balloon in a display of fire and debris. I fired again. And again. And again. The firing speed was amazing for such a large weapon.
The bow of the airship was engulfed in flame. I can see a missile come from the helicopter and watch as the final blow is dealt to the enemy craft. It explodes and heads in a flaming heap towards the ground.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
The next zeppelin begins to open fire, I shoot down the missiles, and the ones I miss the helicopter gets. The Gatling gun on the helicopter was a recent acquisition. It was outfitted with sidewinder missiles as well if I remember the last budget report correctly.
It is almost like watching a ballet. A series of precise movements and actions timed to the second. The sun had gone, and the red flames of the fire grew with intensity and majesty. As each zeppelin fell to its death it was like the beginning of new music. It had an odd sense of beauty. Until the intricate movements of avoiding enemy fire is abandoned and the helicopter gets closer to the zeppelin.
"Owens!" I yell into my headset. I always call him Owens when we're on assignment. "What are you doing?"
"I have a plan!" What on Earth is that man doing? Sometimes he's insufferable. I look closer and see someone jump from the helicopter to the zeppelin. He's gone crazy. "What the hell?" I can hear him over the radio, but there isn't any gunfire. "This place is empty!"
Preview:
Jack: That's the real question. Boxers or briefs.
Walter: Briefs.
Jack: Boxers.
Alucard: Commando.
Seras: EEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWW!
Order 26: Reload
A/N: Regular update! Oh right!
A/N: Third person POV returns in two weeks. I just did this for a change cause I thought it would be fun. And it is.
A/N: Review people. Feed my ego. Pleeeeeeeeease?
