Seongnam Base, Empire of Kokuria, Diarchy of Kokuria-Yamatai

June 20, 1935 EC

Warrant Officer Bongseon [REDACTED]

Beta Wing, 707th Special Weapons and Operations Reconnaissance Detachment, KISHIN

The door opened slowly with a quiet creak as Bongseon refused to wait for the occupant of the room to so much as mutter a reply. With his typical plastered smile on his face and carefully cultivated outward appearance of jovialness, the warrant officer strode into the small, Spartan room that held one of his family.

Family. Even after all of these years, it still did not sit entirely well with Bongseon. He had no idea where he was from or who his biological parents were, these small details being redacted by someone even higher up than Uncle for reasons beyond the latter's own understanding. Even being of a society so hung up on familial piety and honor, KISHIN refused to give him a single hint. At least Batory got details, given the reputation of the Dmovskis outside the damned walls of Seongnam. Hyoryeong and Reika getting their own surnames was also completely understandable, both of them coming from the most powerful bloodlines in the entire dual monarchy.

But himself? Not a clue; he only ever got temporary false surnames, almost as if he were hurled back in time to before everyone in Kokuria and their grandmothers hustled to anoint themselves with prestigious surnames to make up for the past lack of surnames altogether. Maybe it shouldn't have bothered Bongseon too much that he most likely never would know who his mother and father were, if he had any siblings, or if he ever had a chance at all. The only thing he knew was that he was Kokurian Ezochian, the characteristic deep, purple hair going down to about his earlobes marking him out among the others in Alpha and Beta alongside the distinct lack of one eye. That, and that for the rest of his foreseeable future, the eight of them in Alpha and Beta would be sworn siblings until death – no matter how soon or suddenly that might arrive, or what the body count would be before they all inevitably met some non-natural end.

One day, Bongseon would figure it all out. Gods, he hoped he'd figure it out.

But it wouldn't be today. There was something else to do, involving the man whose room Bongseon just slipped into technically uninvited. Another adopted sibling to tell to gear up and be ready to deport themselves to some random corner of the world in the name of the Two Houses.

Bongseon suppressed a hiss at the thought, his plastered grin faltering just a tad as his curated persona began to display hairline cracks. What in the gumiho's nine fluffy tails was Gallia so important for, anyways? Did the entire fucking world just revolve around a country not even 40,000 square kilometers in area?

He quietly strode to the small cot that supported a sleeping figure, behaving completely unlike what KISHIN expected a Crow to act when resting. The figure in the bed snored loudly and obviously, with his mouth open and his right limbs hanging over the edge of the mattress as if he had not a care for the world and would never have such woes even when he finally woke up. Even being completely dressed in his domestic combat uniform and his right hand hanging just a few centimeters above his katana and wakizashi short sword, ready to grab at the slightest provocation, this Crow simply exuded an air of utter unprofessionalism.

Bongseon couldn't even imagine anything less from Takezō. For how many years had he known this (relatively) old man again? Ripe old age of 22 years and the oldest of Alpha and Beta – it was quite an accomplishment given everything. And he was probably the best adjusted of them all, which said quite a lot.

Just act normal, he thought to himself. Just pretend that nothing bad's happening that I hate with every fiber of my being.

[Wake up, buddy boy,] jeered Bongseon in his mind in Kokurian. He knew damned well that Takezō was fully aware of his presence, if that quiet creak wasn't still earsplitting enough to betray that. He also knew the Yamataian Alpha Crow could detect his mental messages, a byproduct of the Caelite conditioning and the factor that arguably gave Crows a theoretical tactical edge against a fully powered Valkyria if the religious texts were anywhere in the same hemisphere as true. [What time-]

[It's the time to get up,] flatly and instantly replied Takezō telepathically, also in Kokurian as customs advised (1), as he slowly opened his eyes and stared back at Bongseon. The Yamataian's eyes looked dead, golden but flat in tone and betraying behind the fake angular glasses still on his face not a single emotion other than absolute boredom. Maybe a twinkle of amusement if anyone was so lucky to catch him at those times. [Thanks for knocking, Bongseon. I always knew you were a polite little gremlin.]

These sorts of messages had to be actively curated and transmitted. Unlike with his own private thoughts and that inner voice that pervaded his entire life, Bongseon knew that the sender of these mental messages had to work to throw them out to other Crows for them to receive and reply to. The Ezochian smiled wider. The fact Takezō threw back a reply that quickly confirmed he was awake all this time, that silly bitch.

He let out a snort. "Ah, screw you," he jeered aloud as he threw a half-hearted kick with his combat boots at Takezō's metal bedframe. The frame reverberated quietly almost as if it too were beginning to break out of a sleepy stupor like its occupant pretended to be. "You knew I was coming in from a few hundred meters away, just like everyone else."

Bongseon watched as Takezō slowly and lazily sat up in his bed, the black hair that normally went down to the level of the Yamataian's chin messy and resembling a bird's nest as he rose. Takezō yawned with the same air of utter indifference, softly slapping himself in the cheek with his right hand as he slowly turned his head to face Bongseon again. "I did," he flatly replied in his characteristic murmur that began to blend his spoken words together. "I jus' wante' t'see how much'f a mess you'd make."

"Well, you got your answer," shrugged Bongseon as he glanced down at his feet and the black and gold scabbards decorating Takezō's bedside. He gave a snort of approval. "Different swords today, I see. For Heaven's sakes, you've made more since I was gone?"

"Might've," was the answer as Takezō lackadaisically swung his legs over the edge of his bed and clanged his boots onto the concrete floor of his little room. "I's bored an' th'shop was open f'r th'pas' month. You'sh'd try i' sometime."

"Maybe," non-committedly replied the Beta Crow. "But anyways, I don't think I have to tell you Hyoryeong's called for you." He gave a wider smirk as he shrugged in an exaggerated fashion. "Even if you've been passed out harder than some salarymen in Pohang. You didn't even undress, moron."

"F'course," replied Takezō as he sauntered his way to his dresser, forcing Bongseon to crane his head back to even meet the other's face. The abnormally tall Yamataian opened the dark wooden dresser doors with a creak and stared at the mirror hung on the inner face of the left one. "I kno' Hyoryeong wan's t'see me soon," he continued as he began to comb through his hair with his fingers. "Fift'n min'tes, on th'dot. Why'd ya thin' I wa'sleepin' in m'unifor'?"

"Hyoryeong's gonna notice the creases, idiot," snickered Bongseon in good humor as he approached closer to Takezō and leaned on another wall, close to the wardrobe. He crossed his arms over his chest and casually gave an up-to-down scan of the other's attire. Maybe he did this just to find more means to make fun of his brother.

Or maybe he just wanted to look him over before he went away, as if a mother were sending her firstborn child to kindergarten with that trademark yellow cap and all. Every time someone went out of Seongnam, Bongseon had no idea if they'd be back. Hell, the last time he left the base, he himself had no idea if he'd ever return. Crows were absurdly powerful compared to most things, but everyone rolled terrible results at the gambling table eventually.

So that's how Batory felt, huh?

He shook his head, both to clear his mind out of such things and to continue the conversation. "Are you trying to see how many uniform violations you can rack up for our prince in opaque armor to lose his Gods-damned mind?"

"It'be fas'natin' t'see," flatly replied Takezō as he continued to work out the kinks in his hair, continuing to stare down his reflection in the mirror. "Think los'n his'mind wou' help me? Maybe I'd beat'im this time at swords."

"Yeah, good luck with that," laughed Bongseon as he refused to budge from his new close-up view of Takezō's makeover attempts. He flared up a full battery of claws of Caelite energy, each a full thirty centimeters in length, from his four right fingers and waved the lethal extensions casually behind Takezō. Accompanying these claws was a flatter sheet of energy over his forearm that served to act as a buckler of sorts. There was a tingling pain that ran all through his arm, but it was a good, physical, familiar pain.

As opposed to the bad, mental, unfamiliar pain of seeing a Crow go that far beyond the Pacific.

"You still can't beat me cleanly, you know."

"True," shrugged Takezō as he swiveled his head to face Bongseon, his fingers still stuck amidst his hair. There was an ever so slight echo of a laugh in his muddled words that mixed with the distinct ozone smell of the room caused by a fully powered series of Caelite claws. "Bu' I can take way m're damage tha'anya you."

"Yeah, yeah," grumbled the Beta Crow with a roll of his one good eye. "Don't rub it in, asshole, I know you can take a massage in a wood chipper and not feel a thing. You certainly didn't give a damn about taking hits our last round."

"Jus'th' last round?"

Bongseon could have sworn there was a very faint upward curl of Takezō's lips. "OK, fine," shrugged the former with a theatrical scoff. "Every time."

Takezō returned a small shrug of his own as he continued to try and smarten up his appearance with obvious results. He stuck his finger in his mouth and then raised it back to the top of his head to target the last strands of resistance in his hair. "Wha' doesn' kill ya now an' all tha'. S'all good practice."

Bongseon let out another snort of amusement as he deactivated his claws and buckler, the room quickly dropping in illuminations and the sensation in his arm rapidly fading away. The stench of ozone remained, and would remain for a little while longer. "Whatever you say, masochist." He maintained that plastered smile as he pushed himself off of the wall and made his way to the door. "And if you want practice in anything else right now, how about this? Hyoryeong's not a major anymore, so get used to his new rank."

Takezō returned his attention to the mirror once more, targeting the last resilient batches of unkempt hair. "Oh? Wha's he now? Jungryeong? (2)"

"Yeah," replied Bongseon with a sigh that was genuine for once. He knew the conversation was at its end; he couldn't delay Takezō any longer. Bongseon turned to yank the door open, and shot his brother one last forced, externally amused glance. "Seems no one where he's taking you will take him seriously if he's not at some stupidly high rank at his age. Who knows, take it up with the Director."

"If y'insist," was the slightly bemused answer before Bongseon breezed out and closed the door behind him, leaving the Yamataian to his Sisyphean battle against his own head. As he made his way down the abandoned and inadequately lit halls of the most reinforced areas of Seongnam Base, he snarled to himself. His outward demeanor instantly vaporized like Caeloil left in the open air, as he accepted just where another two of his adopted brothers were going.

Gods, he pleaded to himself and any deity he thought had a chance of existing. Don't fucking let Gallia take Takezō, too. Please.

Not with that Valkyria around.

/

Seongnam Base, Empire of Kokuria, Diarchy of Kokuria-Yamatai

June 20, 1935 EC

Warrant Officer Takezō [REDACTED]

Alpha Wing, 707th Special Weapons and Operations Reconnaissance Detachment, KISHIN

Takezō ruffled through the new deployment orders through his glasses and with his typical glazed eyes, his newly gloved hands lazily flicking every page to the right (3) as he processed the information within. The lighting of the briefing chamber was not the best he had ever been illuminated by, especially given how deep into the complex it was located and how the power systems were undergoing maintenance. But it was more than bright enough for the Yamataian Crow to see every word, every image, and every chart and graph.

While he did not wish to go so far from home and land feet-first into a fresh new Hell masquerading as a small Europan country with a curious name, Takezō welcomed the opportunity for something new. He certainly did already reap certain rewards for being chosen to accompany the new lieutenant colonel – his immediate commander and adopted elder brother. As befitting the jungryeong's bloodline and the fact that this man was the only Crow to sally about public life with an actual public persona, Takezō was to pretend he was one of the prestigious Beastslayer imperial guard to better justify why he should be in Gallia as well.

Guardsman Arisaka Takezō, the towering Yamataian thought to himself with a certain level of satisfaction. I suppose it's worth all the trouble. Hyoryeong's even gotten me a nice surname and had me pre-fitted for the uniform and the cloak.

Never bitched about the creases in my personal uniform, either. Or the hair that I still never got straightened out, for fuck's sakes. That's unusual.

"… So," finally started Takezō in Kokurian as he glanced up at the man standing before him on the other side of the table, this other Crow watching silently with distinct purple eyes that marked him along with other certain features as a son of the Two Houses. "It's a nice vacation, sir, even with'e ant'-Valk'ria duties."

"Exterminating the Valkyria is merely one of our objectives, junwi-sii," coldly replied Hyoryeong, Prince Valhae of the Empire of Kokuria. His hands did not move from their clasped position behind his back, already rigid as expected of both a Crow and someone of one of the imperial dynasties. "And an optional target of opportunity at that."

Hyoryeong started to pace slowly and methodically in a crescent path around the bend of the wooden round table that formed the central lynchpin of the dimly lit, barebones briefing room. His countenance never ceased to radiate a detached, cold feeling; his mouth was turned slightly downward at the edges. It was just like him on any other day, really.

He always did take his job seriously, thought Takezō as he stared blandly at his superior officer. I can't blame him for being so… distant. Twenty years old and he's…

"Jungryeong-nim (4)," replied Takezō as he traced the movement of the Valhae prince with his eyes, never moving his head. That new rank sounded so foreign to him after years of knowing Hyoryeong as a mere major. "It'd be good opp'tun'ty to make'the Eas' Europ'ns cry, but I und'stan'."

"I am aware, junwi-ssi," calmly replied Hyoryeong as he began to pace away from his subordinate. "But with the Riverlands Crisis starting to generate secondary effects and Zhongjing (5) requesting an acceleration of our combined mobilization plans, we cannot risk starting war with both Europan power blocs now." He slowly and deliberately pivoted on his heels and fixed Takezō with those purple eyes, and Takezō returned the favor with his own golden ones. "I do hope that opportunity you mentioned arises," continued the prince in a measured tone, "but I cannot depend on hope alone."

"So we jus' sit prett' and obser'," shrugged Takezō as he glanced momentarily back at his documents. "Wi' th'… Gall'n Milish' GHQ, I see? An' pick off th' Valk later if do'ble?"

"Yes," curtly answered the lieutenant colonel. "Ulsan-Bak-nim has targeted its rapid reaction battalion in particular as deserving particular care and attention from us. Intercepted reports from Gallian Army communications have confirmed elements of the Militia GHQ's rapid reaction reserves have single-handedly mission-killed a Batomys and driven off what we are almost certain is a Valkyria."

The prince let out a small, seemingly satisfied hmm before continuing. "Batory's report will merely be confirmation of what we already know, but this tardiness would not be on him given the obstacles."

"… S'why're we goin', m'lord?" Takezō returned his bored gaze to his commander. "Why'n't jus' sen' the orig'nal mortals earmark'd for 'is? Th' seem more'th'n good enough if the Gall'ns can bea' a Valk, and we've enough noblem'n."

Hyoryeong hesitated for a microsecond in both his step and his speech before giving his answer, something that Takezō picked up immediately. He may have acted the fool and perhaps by his own measures he was a lazy bastard, but he was far from the least observant Crow on the face of East Asia.

"Refer back to the objective with regards to the Valkyria," quietly replied the Kokurian prince. "If we must kill her, then it shall be better that we be there." He stopped his pacing and pivoted on his heels once more to quietly and directly face the Yamataian. "KISHIN also expects my… imperial lineage to open doors more easily for us to arrive at where we need to be. The Gallian aristocracy and military institutions are not the most accommodating."

Takezō raised an eyebrow. "Did Sugihara-nim fin'ly use y' as a last-resor' bat'ring ram?"

"Yes, you might say that," flatly replied the prince. He let a pause linger in the air for a second, almost as if he were himself processing the ludicrousness of the political dance that Sugihara had to do, that poor man. "It also would make it easier for the Gallians to swallow their pride and accept the delivery of the retooled 20TDs they bought."

"Took th'Euros long enough t'accep'," murmured the warrant officer as he glanced yet again back down at the folder's contents. "Onl' took a Valk'ria and a sup'rheavy to fin'ly scare'em straight after all tha' time." He paused for a moment as he looked back up. "And th' oth' weapons? Wha' 'bou' those?"

"Lambda will return them to us within three hours," nodded Hyoryeong. "I understand that you quite liked their power and are eager to use them against their intended targets if the opportunity arises. Lambda is engaging in last-minute calibrations."

Takezō blinked, and subtly narrowed his eyes. "Again?"

Hyoryeong let out a small nod. If even he found this exasperating, it seemed he hid it well. "Yes, again. They wish to ensure the weapons can be charged properly with our transports' engine systems."

The Yamataian shrugged. "Thank you, but… th'r's anoth'r reason, jungryeong-nim," immediately slurred back Takezō with a slightly raised eyebrow. He tossed the documents down onto the table and clasped his own hands together, resting them on the wooden surface and leaning slightly forward. "Don' think I didn't see y' flinch."

A dead silence hung in the room; a pair of purple eyes stared dispassionately once more at bored yellow ones with a pair of false eyeglasses between them. There was no fury, no shock in the eyes of the prince. For all anyone outside KISHIN knew, the Valhae prince never actually had many emotions to begin with – maybe other than royal disdain – on any the day of the Asian calendar week that included a natural element in its name.

But today was different. Takezō could have sworn on his unknown parents' graves (if they were dead in the first place) that there was a very slight glimmer of two emotions he never expected to see from Hyoryeong Valhae.

Concern. Fatigue.

Don't go cold on me now, Hyoryeong, thought Takezō to himself with slight worry of his own. I think I know why you're going. I just need you to admit it out in the open.

Your spine won't vaporize just because you… let go… for a brief moment.

"… It's Bat'ry," quietly continued the warrant officer, "isn' it?"

Another moment of silence. "… Yes," finally admitted the prince with an even lower, guttural, and odder voice than anyone was accustomed to hearing from him. Takezō found it quite foreign. "He figures in my calculations."

"Concern'd ov'r him?"

"Two years, junwi-ssi," came back a low reply. Hyoryeong turned away from Takezō, although he remained where he was with his hands still clasped behind his back. There was, however, an extremely subtle indication that he was grabbing his hands more forcefully than before. The gloves were stretched a bit too much, his body frame also every so slightly tightened up. "Two. Years. We have no idea whether he has changed too much to be… reliable. As his commander, I am responsible for ensuring his condition."

You're slipping relatively hard today, my man. That was quite an emphasis on "commander."

Or you know this and are showing me you're slipping because you don't want to just say it openly, which is still a baby step in the right direction.

"He's fine," shrugged Takezō as he glanced momentarily down back at the mass of papers slightly scattered around the point of impact where he threw them down a scant moment before. "Uncle sends us reg'lar repor's. An' we can't all be th'same for'ver, m'lord. Peop' change."

"I know," whispered Hyoryeong. He refused to glance back at his subordinate, but kept that tighter grip on his hands. "I know that we cannot forever be the same, but I must have it be the case for the duration. We must rotate him out of the frontline and-"

"You'n'I both know," softly remarked Takezō, "tha' he's def'nit' changed. No matt' how much he or we may've wan'ed t'avoi' that." He quietly rose from his chair, his two blades' scabbards protesting with dull thumping sounds as he scraped together the deployment orders and put them back into the familiar samjogo-printed beige folder. With the files in hand, Takezō took a few slow, quite, and deliberate steps toward the Crow commander.

"We'll'av'ta deal with it, jungryeong-nim," he continued, infusing as much sympathy in his voice as possible. His bored persona worked both ways; even he sometimes found it difficult to legitimately show his own feelings and thoughts when it mattered so much. "Rota'him out, sure. Bu' don' worry, I don' think he'll've gon' soft on us. Mayb' he'll've improved his socializin' t'boot."

There was no reply from Hyoryeong. The Valhae kept staring away from Takezō, deep in whatever thoughts occupied his head. Not even Uncle could tell reliably what the prince was thinking. Takezō knew that this extraordinary level of passive admission of internal conflict was not something to let go unnoticed.

Who knew exactly what went on in that royal brainbox? Or what went on in his room, to which no one was ever allowed access. Not even Reika knew, and she was Alpha and Beta's second-in-command. She was almost royalty given that her alleged original family owned one of Yamatai's most powerful corporations, but Hyoryeong never let her know much about what he thought as far as anyone knew.

He won't open up, Takezō thought with a slight tinge of frustration. He seems to never do without some major pushing. There's so much to live up to with that surname of his.

I'll have to let it go for now, but…

Takezō let himself frown even a tiny bit, now that no one was directly looking at him to take notes.

Hyoryeong will have to address it eventually. We still need him.

Takezō let out a small cough, which finally elicited a small reaction from Hyoryeong as the latter turned his head a little to his left. "Well th'n," drawled the Yamataian as he gave the folder in his hand a small, casual wave. He suppressed his worries behind a practiced air of solid indifference and the same old pair of fake spectacles he'd held onto his entire life. "If y're goin', I 'ssume Reika'll be'n charge here."

"Yes," finally spoke Hyoryeong, again with the same neutral tone as before. He turned finally to face Takezō. "The major will oversee the remainder of Alpha and Beta during our absence. I have asked her to take special care of the rest."

She got promoted, too, huh? Reika still won't say shit out loud, but maybe she'll give us that smug look again.

"Esp'sh'lly for Junjeong," dryly commented Takezō. "I don' wan' t'come back to half o' Seongnam gone, m'lord. 'S a nice house."

Hyoryeong gave a slight purse of his lips, a very faint upward curl of the edges accompanying it all. "I will hunt her down for sport if that happens."

"That'll take ou' th'oth'r half of th'base, colonel. Mayb' Reika'll kill'er first. Or th' Schoolmaster."

Hyoryeong let out a dispassionate hmm, and gave a curt nod. "Perhaps," he noted, "but she will never enjoy the paperwork, so perhaps Radkievicz would do the job for us… In any case," He silently gestured with his right hand and arm to the folder that Takezō had in his own. "Burn the documents after memorizing the contents, and be prepared to move tomorrow before first light."

Takezō nodded in return. "Ackn'l'ged," he confirmed. He cocked his head; Hyoryeong's comment regarding the transports' engines resurfaced in his thoughts. "What's our transpor'?"

Hyoryeong gave a minute scoff. "Something that evidently accentuates my bloodline," he dryly answered as he clasped his hands behind his back once more. "The Navy decided to escalate our… scale of transport. It wants to also send a message to the Europans in the process. KISHIN and the Mountain have both authorized."

Takezō raised an eyebrow once more. Escalation of scale, huh? And directly authorized by the joint court in Hwando? We're too obvious.

"So wha's the batt'ship?"

Hyoryeong gave a pursed, faint smile.

/

Pohang, Empire of Kokuria, Diarchy of Kokuria-Yamatai

June 21, 1935 EC

Guardsman Takezō Arisaka

Kokurian 1st Foot Brigade, Beastslayers Diarchic Guard

With surprising alacrity, Takezō shoved open the door of the armored limousine, the vehicle decorated with miniature black and yellow flags indicating the dynastic ownership. With practiced motions albeit hampered by the Sibirean Tiger-patterned striped cloak around his left shoulder, Takezō swept the clearing in the Diarchic Navy base before him with his light machine gun, only returning the weapon to its ready stance once satisfied there were no unforeseen surprises in the fog. The only others in the immediate vicinity were green-clad Naval Guardsmen on patrol who happened to be swept by the Crow's barrel muzzle, some muttering relatively incoherent swearing about friendly fire but otherwise too intelligent to directly confront a Beastslayer in the flesh.

"Clear," muttered Takezō as he slung his weapon over his shoulder. He felt the prince behind him began to slowly and deliberately exit the limousine; following him were several imperial servants, tasked with transferring the two Crows' personal effects and equipment into the battleship that loomed before all of them like an ancient behemoth in the fog. None of the porters understood that Takezō and Hyoryeong were no ordinary men in the slightest, and none of them had ever seen the Yamataian before in their lives as betrayed by their confused glances in his direction all through the car ride.

Takezō shrugged it all off. He always did; the others needed him to as their allegedly least mentally damaged individual. Accepting all of his absurdities, to pretend to not give a solitary damn about anything, was the only way to remain sane in light of what he had done and what he had become. How many other Yamataians exactly breached 190 cm in height nowadays, even with improved diets? And how many exactly could punch through vehicle armor with just their bare hands? And how ma-

Focus, idiot, thought the Yamataian to himself as he readjusted his Viszevaric-inspired sagak field cap, notorious for its four-cornered structure, on his head and fixed his glasses. Hyoryeong needs me, and I'm not a Crow anymore on paper. I'm a "regular" human being now.

A regular human being who has to almost go into the fetal position to ride a car and who can sling around a 10-kg LMG like it was a toy, but still "regular."

"Gentlemen," ordered Hyoryeong as he fixed his own black sagak cap on his head. As was usually the case for him when in public display, the prince was dressed in a more natural black Diarchic Army officer uniform, his black collar rank insignia with white braids and golden stars standing out among the mostly black uniform. The uniform was strikingly similar to the same as the one worn by rank-and-file Diarchic Army infantry, a decision made by the Mountain years prior to simplify logistics in the face of allegedly superior Europan militaries. "Form up on me. We shall meet our admiral in no more than five minutes."

"Ackn'l'ged," neutrally harrumphed the Yamataian as he gripped and shook the sling of his LMG, seeing from the corner of his eye the top-mounted magazine slightly dancing in the air as he did so. He quietly followed the prince to the gangway that connected the base's dry concrete embankment to the battleshipand raised his gaze to size up the for an absurdly tall man like himself, Takezō found himself having to crane his neck back to truly grasp the scale of the newest class of Diarchic capital vessel. Behind him, he heard the porters mutter amongst themselves in Kokurian, in awe of the warship's power.

The VDM (6) Uldolmok was not anything particularly new compared to the previous class of battleship, the Heukryongseo class – at least in dimensions. At roughly 285 meters in length mostly like their predecessors but displacing over 50,000 metric tons, the Uldolmok and her sister the Sacheonryang were already quite heavy warships compared to their direct Imperial and Federate counterparts. Part of what made these twin warships so powerful were their unmatched dedicated main guns housed two to each turret, each gun firing shells 460 mm in diameter that weighed as much as a truck, all at targets up to over 40 kilometers away.

The engine, meanwhile, was completely and totally classified, even for Alpha and Beta. Only Lambda and its immediate armed security detachments knew what sort of unholy scientific breakthrough was achieved for KISHIN to not even let a Crow know what it exactly was. As far as Takezō had heard, the Uldolmok class was constructed under intense KISHIN supervision, masquerading as regular Diarchic Admiralty inspectors and Naval Guard patrols. All the scientific wing of KISHIN let on was that it was a new type of engine and boiler suite that stretched the useful power reserves of Caelite to an extent unheard of in history, something that would let this warship cross the Pacific and the Atlantic without having to refuel.

Too bad about the destroyer escorts, sighed the Yamataian to himself. Battleships don't typically do ASW (7) so we need the destroyers, but those will need to be constantly refueled on the way. As well as the cargo ships for those tanks.

I guess the Uldolmok answers my question about how we'll keep the weapons charged.

Takezō scanned the top of the Uldolmok's superstructure and immediately identified the different-looking radars and rangefinding machines mounted at various points as well as on the sides of the turrets, jutting out like ugly owls poking their heads out of a mass of branches. The new Struszynski suite of artillery plotting calculators, infrared night-vision systems, and high-frequency radar meant that the Uldolmok class would in theory more easily identify the positions of enemy ships and reach main battery hit rates far exceeding the prior estimates that lay in the single digits. For now, the Uldolmok and her sister were the ultimate expressions of Diarchic ambition in the Pacific. Such was its power merely as a testing bed for the new Shinra-class battleships being laid down that it broke conventional Diarchic Navy naming conventions for capital ships and received names corresponding to some of Kokuria and Yamatai's most lopsided naval victories in their respective histories.

Well, groaned Takezō in his own head as continued to shadow his brother, the group approaching closer to the prepared gangway that would lead them into the heart of the Uldolmok, At least we're not taking the Sacheonryang. For a man of Kokurian nobility to take that would be fucking embarrassing. Probably.

So what am I, a Yamataian, doing by going onboard the Uldolmok?

"Th'Navy cert'n' knows ho'to make a scene, m'lord," quietly remarked the Yamataian Crow as the meager entourage reached the foot of the plank. Even at this early hour in a major Kokurian naval base, there was little activity. KISHIN had requested that the Navy not begin its final movement of personnel and supplies at least at Pohang until after the two Crows had settled in their quarters, partly to more easily hide their intentions. It certainly made Takezō's first official bodyguarding action as a Beastslayer that much easier. "Or lack th'reof. I 'sume th'oth'r ships're ready?"

"The Hwangjo and her sister destroyers confirmed they would be ready to deploy by now in Dongnae," rejoined the prince. He looked back at Takezō with a look of indifference, almost as if he knew the Navy would indeed get the job done. "Our oilers and our cargo ships would be ready as well over there. All that is left is for the admiral to confirm total readiness."

Takezō let out a neutral hmm as he rested on the hope that the Navy did its job as instructed and expected. Perhaps the presence of a Valhae would make things move faster than usual, even with what was big enough to be a fleet division in itself being wrangled up and the crews being ordered back abruptly from shore leave.

This gave him a short time to say the final things he wished before he stepped off of his homeland's soil and sat like a sardine in a battleship for a month.

[Jungryeong-nim,] transmitted Takezō as he kept a stony silence and maintained his gaze on the Uldolmok's superstructure. He took a few steps forward to stand directly next to his commander. [I should tell you this now, I think.]

[Go ahead,] came the reply. Hyoryeong too seemed content enough to stare down the battleship as if it would make him feel better about something.

[Bongseon couldn't exactly come out to say goodbye properly,] continued Takezō as he pretended to be interested by the forward rangefinders. [You know how he is, pathological liar or not.]

[I am aware,] neutrally replied the prince as he himself seemed to fix his outward attention on the bridge. [And do not worry, I was not insulted or upset. Despite his tendencies…]

[He doesn't want to see us go,] finished the Yamataian. He frowned slightly at the thought. Takezō always knew Bongseon constantly lived on the knife's edge between truth and lie, and spewed falsehoods as easily as he breathed. But… whatever the Ezochian had told him was for once beyond a shadow of a doubt genuine. Bongseon couldn't even look him directly in the face that evening as he handed the Yamataian something to take to Randgriz, only after everyone else had left the immediate area.

It bothered Takezō. It was a major breach of a norm for Bongseon the gremlin to behave totally unlike one.

[Bongseon couldn't say it out loud to everyone, but he wants us to bring all of ourselves back safely,] he finished. [Also contributed a few things to give to the Randgriz embassy only after everyone else.]

[I already know about his contributions for Randgriz,] continued Hyoryeong. [But define "all of ourselves," junwi-ssi,]

Takezō suppressed a sigh. [You, me, Batory, Uncle and the ambassador,] he rattled off. [Every last Naval Guardsman stuck there. He said he didn't want to see anyone loyal to the samjogo get buried over there, that it'd be an insult to everyone involved.]

Out of the corner of his eye, Takezō swore he saw Hyoryeong betray a smile. [That is what I want as well, Takezō,] finished the Kokurian with finality in his message. He cocked his head slightly toward the Yamataian, not looking at him directly but still confirming to the latter's shock that he was in fact truly smiling even if only slightly. There was even a very faint glimmer in those purple eyes. [By the Heavens' grace, we will all come back.]

It was hardly visible for anyone in this fog, but Takezō knew what he saw, any light reflections in this mist be damned. He heard Hyoryeong use his name instead of his rank.

He's starting to break free, thought the Yamataian. Please, Gods, let him do this more often.

12:00 Ally 1 Range 20 Attention

And as if the Heavens personally heard Takezō's plea and decided he didn't have the positive balance of good deeds to make it happen, Hyoryeong immediately returned his face to its normal, cold nature. A silhouette exited the superstructure and stepped onto the wooden deck of the Uldolmok, a creak of a salty, steel door betraying the exit. Both Crows watched as the shadow gingerly yet confidently made its down the gangway, bearing the stature of a seasoned sailor. Even if the inner voice didn't sound aloud this fact, the sounds of the door and soft and dull report of shoes on wood certainly did.

Hyoryeong gave a curt nod as he clasped his hands behind his back. In front of the servants of the Two Houses, he could betray nothing of his true persona – whatever that was. Takezō noted to himself, no matter the cost, to keep records on it all.

Even if it wasn't just for Takezō's own interest, Hyoryeong Valhae must open up. He had too; it was far too long delayed.

"Admiral Chungmu," spoke Hyoryeong, sealing his decision to leave. That same, familiar cold voice rang out in the hazy morning as the prince stepped forward and slowly reached his hand out. "My thanks to you and the other captains for guiding us to far-off lands. We have much to discuss before we depart."

/

(1) After the Second Diarchic Accords of 1905 EC, a new custom was introduced in which Diarchists would continue general conversations in the language they were started in if doable. The language of those higher in social rank in the conversation was considered the default; if the speakers were equal, then it was mainly a case of what language came out first.

(2) Kokurian for lieutenant colonel

(3) Asian cultures typically print their documents to be read right to left.

(4) nim is the generic Kokurian title for individuals of higher social rank, or even of equal rank if the addressee is being served in some capacity.

(5) Capital city of the Grand Republic of Cathay, literally the Central City.

(6) Vessel of the Diarchic Majesties. The prefix was allegedly patterned off Viszevaric hypotheticals.

(7) Anti-submarine warfare