The UNSC Triple-A tracked the incoming airplane. A four-engine transport vehicle resembling one of NATO's ancient turboprop designs, namely the C130, designate name 'Hercules', a mid-class transport aircraft, moved in for landing on the airstrip. Volkov had noticed the faintest twich in the Pilot's flight pattern as the plane veered half a centimeter to the right before its landing gears extended.
The aircraft landed with a hard thunk and rattled and shook, burning rubber and leaving a cloud of noxious black smoke behind as it braked. The Triple-A Turrets had, at Volkov's order as acting superior officer, been set to only fire if direct permission was given, so his helmet's HUD flashed with a scarlet box in which the word 'FIRE?' burned bright red, with the standard Y/N response below. Volkov chose N for now, blinking, then watched as Shin, Anju, Daiya and Fido marched toward the transport.
The thing's engines sputtered as they were turned off, all the while a squad of Marines came to escort Shin and his friends to meet them. Now, Volkov finally got his first look at the Alba. Pure silver hair and eyes, pale skin and dark-blue and white parade uniforms for the officers and similar, but less-parade-worthy uniforms for the pilots. The Commander of the aircraft, a man in his mid-thirties with a scowl on his face, regarded Shin as he marched with his escort.
"... What in San Magnolia's name did you Pigs do?" He inquired toward Shin, his voice rough like sandpaper. Shin immediately eyed the half-empty pack of standard-issue military cigarettes in one of the ammo pouches on his belt and realized soon why the man sounded like he'd sucked on actual gravel. The Marines eyed the man with the faintest signs of killer intent, their assault rifles slung on their backs.
"We received some backup..." Shin remarked, watching as Fido marched to the rest of the Air Crew to help them unload the transport.
The man scoffed, averting his gaze from the Marines and glaring instead at Shin and his friends, then ordered without looking at his crew, "Get that damn package up here..." with Shin and the others watching as the men hefted a heavy, reinforced box, colored-khaki and plastered with tons of warnings like 'WARNING:Specialized Explosive Ammunition, handle with care!', 'Experimental equipment inside, do not open!' and the likes.
Of course, in seemingly standard Alba fashion, the bastards threw it down in front of Shin, with all the Marines tensing and about to reach for their sidearms. One of the Marines called out, "You motherfuckers trying to kill all of us!? That shit clearly says 'EXPLOSIVES' in bold! I knew you were assholes, but I didn't also know you were morons!"
"Oh, don't shit yourself over it, you pig. This is some sort of special package for Spearhead's processors, not for you. IF anyone should be worried about it blowing up in their face, it's them..." The Officer scowled. He then glared at Shin and snapped at the boy, "Don't know where your friends came from or how you pigs multiplied, but if you don't keep your pal's trap shut, you won't be getting any more supplies."
"I oughta shove my boot up your ass for even threatening that kind of shit, Chrome Face!" The Marine shot back. His Lieutenant place a hand on his shoulder, causing the Marine to turn to him. The Lieutenant shook his head, then glared at the man and watched Shin pop open the lid. Inside was a series of colorful wrappers and items that felt all-too-familiar to the UNSC Marine. He smiled now, behind his balaclava, while Shin himself stared on, awed. A flicker of a smile grew on his lips, too.
Looking back, he saw his squadmates nodding in approval, with Anju nodding in approval. Meanwhile, Kurena had joined Volkov on the deck, crossing her arms to her chest and sighing, "That bastard, again..."
"Know him?" He raised a brow at her while Myne, Lecca and Raiden also stepped out onto the porch and walked to join the Marines and company. Kurena nodded.
"Former commander of the Guards at my camp. Got rotated out and set into Supply command for doing some less-than-savory things, which... Considering what was happening in my camp even before he arrived, should tell you what kind of man he is," The girl spoke. She sighed, then said, "Two of his guards gunned down my parents in front of me and my older sister... I'd presume at his order."
Volkov scowled, watching and gauging the man's reactions to Shin and the rest of his unit. His crew, meanwhile, stared uneasily at the squadrons of Marines that were gathering near the tarmac to watch the situation, with some Engineers of the UNSC unloading the supplies from on-board the aircraft. Shin closed the lid on what Volkov had soon realized was a box-full of actual, live Fireworks.
"God, you fuckers are ugly," The man still wore that standard scowl, crossing his arms to his chest. He ordered to his men, "Load up! We're done with supplies here! I don't wanna have to stare at the rabble anymore."
Shin hummed, then stood to his feet and, while a pair of Marines moved to take the Fireworks case with them, commented, "You should stop scowling like that. Your wife probably hates staring at you more than we do..." and causing the loudest uproar of laughter and whooping from the Marines. Even two of the man's air crew had broken into laughter, despite their superior glaring at them.
His scowl grew outright into the ugliest face of anger anyone had ever seen. He glared at Shin, watching as the boy turned to the Marines and co and walked. Volkov watched and heard the laughter from the porch. He and Kurena started walking, with the girl grinning ear-to-ear and eager to hear what Shin had told the man. Volkov, meanwhile, watched the man...
The bastard's hand reached for the black leather holster on his thigh. As he unclipped the flap that held the gun in place, Volkov's world slowed down to a crawl. He gasped, then broke into a sprint as the man slowly pulled the pistol out of the leather holster. The ODST bounded across the grass as his own comrades and the Marines realized the fucker was drawing his gun and were making moves for their own side-arms, while Shin's comrades' eyes grew wide saucers.
Three more bounding leaps later and Volkov had closed the distance just as the man was aligning the pistol's sights on Shin's head. Cocking back his balled right fist, the man used the momentum of his run to throw the haymaker right into the cheek of the bastard. The thunderclap of armored knuckles slamming against the unprotected cheekbone of the Alba officer filled the air. Teeth and blood flew through the air as Volkov dropped the man, then fell upon him like a hammer.
Pinning the man to the floor with all his weight, Volkov cocked back his fist again and started pounding on the officer. He grabbed the man's arm with his free hand, twisted it until he heard the man's wrist snap, grabbed the pistol and unloaded it before tossing it aside and proceeding to absolutely pummel the man's face in, to the point that several thin streaks of blood and several broken teeth now painted the cracking tarmac.
When the man had had enough, Volkov grabbed him by the scruff of his uniform jacket, lifted him to his feet and pinned him against the side of the plane, then drew his sidearm and put it to his head. The Marines around him all drew their firearms, aiming them toward the other Alba before the sound of a hundred UNSC rifles cocking simultaneously filled the air. The Alba crew all lifted their hands, while the officer stared through blood-blurred vision at Major Kolya Volkov's polarized visor, seeing only the swollen, beaten-in face of a man who had just realized he had fucked up.
"... Listen to me, you piece of shit," Volkov started, his voice a low growl, "Point a handgun at one of the people in this FOB again, or do anything that may bring harm to the Eighty-Six? I will be the last thing you have to worry about..." and he tilted his head to the UNSC Marines as they approached, one of them shoving the barrel of his Assault Rifle in the man's broken face.
"Who..." The man sputtered, his voice cracking, "Who... Are you...?"
"... Major Kolya Volkov, Thirteenth ODST Brigade of the United Nations Space Command. Let your people know that we are here and we stand with the Eighty-Six," He spoke, then slammed the man against the steel one more time and let him go. He looked to the Alba soldiers and tilted his head to the broken man that now slid down onto the floor. Two of the Air Crew scrambled to and grabbed the man off the floor, dragging his ass inside the aircraft before they prepared for departure. Volkov approached a surprised Shin and his just-as-shocked teammates and asked, "Are you well, Captain?"
He nodded, "... I'm fine, Captain... Thank you. I didn't..."
"I saw him from across the courtyard. I don't think I've ever run so fast since basic," Volkov replied, then slid his pistol back into its holster and breathed out, feeling his throat sting. While he wasn't paying attention, however, the Marines began cheering, laughing and saluting. He ignored them, tired. Of course, the Major had just run a considerable distance at the fastest speed an ODST could achieve. The man had to have been fast in order to arrive when he did, in order to stop the Alba officer.
The UNSC and Spearhead cleared off the tarmac and watched the aircraft fly off toward the Eighty-Five sectors, being tracked by the Forward Operating Base's Anti-Air turrets all the while. Shin hummed, then looked to the Major and asked, "You do know that you have just... Exposed yourselves in the worst possible way to the Republic's government and military, do you not?"
"We do," He noted, then flicked on his Para-RAID and said, "I presume you saw everything, Admiral?"
Shin also turned on his Para-RAID and linked it to the UNSC com line, fast enough to hear the Admiral state, "I did, major... You did what you had to do. Captain Nouzen, nice to see you joining us..."
While the Major looked to see Kurena laughing with the Marines and the rest of Spearhead, Shin tapped into the com and spoke to her, "Did you put the major up to this?"
"No. It was the man's own actions. I merely acted as a spectator. Helmet Camera footage be blessed," She replied as calmly as possible, "I will send word to the ONI agents currently within the Eighty-Five sectors to prepare to arrange a connection with their High Command and government the moment the President of San Magnolia is notified of the encounter between us and their forces... Until then, I shall be making ready."
"I understand... Watch yourself, Admiral. Who knows what kind of heartless politician was put into power by popular vote..." Shin sighed at his own rhetorical question, "Deal with them as you see fit."
"I will. You take care of yourselves down there, Captain. Let us meet again under better circumstances," The woman spoke as warmly as she could, despite there being worry in every word. Shin hummed, then gave the woman an affirmative reply. She shut off the link, leaving Shin to watch the Marines carrying the supplies for their vehicles and them into the designated storage area, side-by-side with Fido and the rest of the team.
He felt a heavy hand fall on his shoulder, then looked to see the major without his helmet. Volkov spoke, "As long as the UNSC lives and breathes, captain, we shall stand by your side. Nobody harms our new comrades without reprisal anymore," and he gave the boy's shoulder a squeeze, an action that had certain consequences for Shin's psyche and thoughts toward the UNSC. He looked to Kurena and Raiden as the two approached, smiling, then he sighed and nodded.
He realized his skepticism was finally showing cracks. Indeed, it would...
Perhaps he should ask more about the UNSC when they were given the chance. Maybe they'd need Spearhead?
... No. The Long Range Recon Mission was still close to happening, even if it was a bloody year away from now. He and his team had to undertake it... For his brother and for Volkov's lost ODSTs. They would put the dead to rest so that Shin's own mind may finally be free of their voices, of the guilt, of the pain of losing so many of their own for this one mission...
Even if it killed them...
Republic of San Magnolia capital
Presidential Palace
It had barely been an hour since the Third Air Maintenance Crew had made contact with Spearhead FOB and delivered the supplies one major Vladilena Milizé of the San Magnolia Military. It had also barely been an hour since the entire cabinet, higher government and Chiefs of Staff of the San Magnolia Military had been made aware of the presence of foreign military units assisting the Eighty-Six. Units who called themselves the 'United Nations Space Command'.
To say panic had filled the entire upper governmental structure of the Republic, not to mention its Chiefs of Staff, was an understatement worth one's weight in gold. The cabinet members of the latest president scrambled to find away to mitigate any sort of damage that would come from these foreign arrivals, ranging from them ordering the Eighty-Six to shoot the people there on sight to demanding to speak to their commanding officer to shoo them away after threatening them.
One of the most vehement supporters of the 'shoot'em all' policy had been none other than Premier Yvonne Primevére, propaganda master and one of the leaders of the Republic's 'interim' government. A pure Alba by blood and by the color of her hair and eyes, miss Primevére had been the face of the Republic's war propaganda and disinformation campaign toward the population since before the start of the Legion War. The scowl with which she stared at the screen of her tablet, which had a direct connection to the pilots of Flight Three Thirty-Nine told the members of the Parliament everything they needed to know.
"This is outrageous..." She growled, tossing the tablet onto the spruce table sat in the conference room where the government and Presidential cabinet would meet, "How have we not been made aware of these enemy troops earlier!? This is... It's impossible! Our Radars should have detected their arrival, at the very least... Someone in the Military has made a severe mistake."
"Radars have been on and offline for the better part of a few days, Premier," General Karlstahl, one of the summoned officers of the Military, replied through gritted teeth, "We had thought the Legion was somehow glitching our radar systems. It turns out that, perhaps, the things our Radar Operators were seeing on the screens were perhaps their aircraft."
"No Air Force can survive the Legion's Anti-Air network to make it to us, General," The woman snapped back, slamming her hand onto the table as several members of the Parliament behind her fiddled with files, thinking whether they should destroy them or save them. She turned to them and roared, "Get the HELL out of this room, now! And make sure not a word of this slips beyond the higher echelons of the government and our armed forces!"
The men and women scurried out of the room at the brutal voice of Primevére, with the woman turning to Karlstahl and his aides-de-camp. She spoke to Karlstahl, "Are the Radars back online now?"
"Yes," Karlstahl nodded, "And we've ordered that they not be taken offline again, no matter what."
"Good. At least you can do your job half-decent," Yvonne growled, then planted a palm on her face. She swore to herself, then looked to the woman sat at the head of the table. Cropped short silver hair and eyes and a beautiful face, marred only by a burn scar that stretched across her left eye and down her cheek, the woman was clad in a business suit with San Magnolia flag pins on the chest and a skirt. She leaned her head on one hand, listening to their capable propagandist premier's screams for the past hour. Yvonne demanded, "Ma'am, what do we do?"
"You seem to have everything under control, Premier," the woman replied, snide and disinterested, "If you think we should shoot at people who have come here in aircraft and managed to sneak past our security to set up bases within the Eighty-Sixth sector, please, by my guest... I wouldn't personally do it, but it may save us some time in just having them kill us for being morons."
"What would you suggest we do then, President Monet?" Karlstahl inquired, looking to the woman with compassion. Jérôme Karlstahl was familiar with the woman sat at the head of the table. President Jeanne Monet, formally Colonel Monet of the Twenty-Sixth Armored Division 'The Saint's Own', had been his and Václav Milizé's very close comrade and one of the few survivors of the Republic Military. She'd risen to her rank due to the compassion she held for the men and women under her command and the strategic prowess she'd wielded even in fighting through the retreat, ensuring as many of her own men, veterans themselves, could make it home as possible.
Karlstahl and Monet were fairly alike in all but one way and Jérôme knew it. While he had grown jaded with the Republic's hypocritical belief of superiority and that they remained the most accepting, welcoming and wonderful people out in the wider surviving world, Jeanne had grown ever more fiery in her desire to fight for what she believed in, namely the Republic's old moral principles, fighting all the way to becoming the new interim president after the old one was removed by an assassin some years prior.
"Not go about shooting at what may very well be an ally? Not to mention a powerful one, if they've flown aircraft all the way across this nightmarish continent, they must have something we do not..." She spoke. Right, Karlstahl remembered that she had also grown tired of hearing about the Republic's might in every way, including technology. So much so that she challenged Yvonne on a near-daily basis.
"The Republic needs no allies, ma'am," the Premier shot back.
"As much as I'd love to believe you, Yvonne, you and I both know we're running out of Processors to throw into the grind," The woman snapped back. She had to maintain a certain air of believability in regards to her views, meaning no challenging the Eighty-Six issue as openly as to contradict the Premier, not in front of the Military, anyhow. She continued, straightening up, "It's only a matter of if we'll run out of them before the Legion's processing power dies and we 'win'," and putting emphasis on that word.
She viewed what they were doing as mere survival. Pragmatic on that front, at least, Karlstahl thought.
"... And, as general Karlstahl asked, ma'am," The Premier spoke through gritted teeth, "What do you suggest we do? They injured one of our soldiers."
Jeanne took a moment to ponder the situation, looking over at the present members of the Armed Forces and at the other remaining staff in her cabinet, then she sighed. There was really only one thing one could do when faced with the presence of a new military force setting up in your territory. Well, two, but she wanted to avoid fighting a War with their new arrivals, especially because of the Legion. She stood up, then walked to the back of the room and stared at the crest of the Republic that hanged off the indented marble wall and the two flags flanking it. She then spoke warily, "We do what we can. I want us to open a diplomatic channel as soon as possible with these new arrivals... See if we can't convince them to help us."
"Ma'am, they beat one of our men to near dea-!" The woman started
"That's final, premier," Monet glared back at her. Yvonne deeply inhaled, nodded to the woman, then stomped her way out of the room, her heels clacking against the floor. The door opened and slammed shut just as fast, shaking the walls, while Karlstahl's men departed more calmly through their side, leaving the woman alone, she supposed, to reflect on what this could mean.
She gave a small smile, staring at the emblem and flags of the Republic and wondering if they may finally be returned their meaning with these new arrivals. Certainly, the situation of their first meeting had been confrontational and she assumed the supply man that was with the plane when it was delivering the things must've somehow overstepped those soldiers' boundaries to the point he got his teeth kicked in but didn't get killed.
"Thinking you may get something done this time, Jeanne?" Karlstahl asked from behind her, somewhat surprising her.
She turned to face the man, then breathed a sigh of relief as he saw there were no other men or women of his behind him and that she could be as honest as she wanted to now, with no prying ears or eyes. She huffed, indignant, then said, "Dealing with the Premier's become a pain in my ass. One I'm not sure this presidency may be worth... But, I signed up for the long haul, to help our fellow citizens out there," and she motioned errantly to the wider world.
He sighed, then pinched his brow and said, "I swear, you and Lena are one and the same..."
"Ah, yes, Vladilena," She smiled melancholically, "How's the little devil? Still fiery like her father?"
"She's still trying her best. I gave her Spearhead Squadron, hoping to dissuade her from continued service," He sighed, rubbing his face, "Only drove her ever-forward, seeing as it's one of our most elite forces."
"Good... Good..." She sighed, then went to the table and poured herself a glass of whatever brandy was in the pitcher. The opaque amber liquid sloshed into the glass, settling after she filled it halfway. Swishing it around, then sniffing it, the woman sighed and offered the glass to Karlstahl. He refused with a polite, but curt motion of his hand, to which the woman took a swig of the alcoholic beverage, then stated, "The Republic needs more people like Vladilena."
"Idealism's gonna get us nowhere here, Jeanne," Karlstahl replied, "You and I both know you're fighting a losing battle... So is Lena. It's like you said, there's maybe a few thousand Eighty-Six left. Nothing more, nothing less... When we run out of them, god only knows what'll happen, but what's the point of trying to bring them all back 'home' so to speak?"
The woman avoided his gaze, looking down at the amber liquid still. She spoke softly, "What happened to you, Jérôme? You were like me... Like Václav... We were a fucking team," and gazed upon the man she still dared call friend. Now it was his turn to look away, the looming hatred for what he'd become filling his heart. He shook his head, causing the woman's heart to sink. She stated firmly, "You cared about the Colorata as much as we did. About their plague. We fought beside them at the start of this damn war, for God's sake..."
"He died and you wound up in politics, Jeanne," He replied grimly, "While I was left in the Army, picking up the pieces. Things have changed a lot... And we can't do anything to stop them. The Colo-... The Eighty-Six have run into the worst streak of bad luck thanks to our pre-War presidency... You can't change it anymore. It's law and most people don't even care."
"I'd dare contradict you," She replied, absent-minded, then sighed as she leaned into her seat, "If I wasn't doubting things myself..." and as she saw him approach and her mind raced, she shook it off, then said, "But I'll get through it... I've had doubts before, but I went on. If Vladilena herself is still fighting the good fight in the name of her father, I'd be dishonoring the bastard and that poor girl by not continuing."
"... If you think so," He sighed. She was his best remaining veteran friend, but she could be so... Annoying...
The two heard the door to their right open and looked to see... Nothing...
Karlstahl walked up to the door, poked his head out into the hallway and scanned the place. Nothing but the decorated, sunlit corridors of the Presidential Palace. He stepped back inside, then paused as he saw something new had appeared on the table. Circular, silver and grey and somewhat thick, a strange disk had been set up on the table ahead. It sat ominously, untouched, with a single flickering blue light on the right.
The man, hand hovering above his P226 semi-automatic pistol, approached the item. Jeanne tensed up, watching the man slowly pull his service pistol out of its holster, then stop in front of the device. She spoke, "Be careful..." through gritted teeth and a voice filled with concern, to which Karlstahl gave her a nod for reassurance. Gently, the man brought his free hand forward toward the device until it nearly reached the flickering blue light.
His finger barely scraped the button next to the light before a shimmering series of azure beams exploded outward, then coalesced. Ahead of them, a human-sized holographic projection appeared, although it was tinged a deep blue like the light of the device it emanated from. It was a woman, with Eastern features and a tired, old face. She was clad in an uniform of an indiscernible color, but that showed the rank pins and epaulettes of a high-ranking member of the naval forces, as well as a few medals that adorned the left breast of her jacket.
Standing ramrod straight, hands behind her back, the woman emanated an air of military prowess even as a hologram. Her short hair poked out from beneath her peaked officer's cap. She stared at the two wide-eyed Albans, then offered a somewhat condescending smile. She spoke, calm and collected, "Ah. I see the package was successfully delivered... Greetings. I feel like it was about high-time I met an actual Alba in person, much more the government itself."
"Who..." Jeanne approached the hologram, "Who are you?"
"I am Admiral Eiko Nakano of the United Nations Space Command and acting commander of the UNSC Battle Group currently above your world..." The woman replied, her voice a chilling, mechanical cold. She gazed off to her right, to either one of her men or an unseen screen, then stated, "It's been approximately an hour since your transport aircraft, which was heading to provide supplies to Spearhead Squadron, has made contact with the Forward Operations Base we've set up to assist the 'Processors' of the Elite Unit. I believe that your government is currently panicking over what to do in regards to us."
"... I'm sorry, Space Command? 'Above' our world?" Karlstahl inquired, hand still firmly gripping his handgun.
"Indeed," The woman nodded. She flashed a singular image with color, a still shot of the ships currently in geosynchronous orbit over their world and they soon realized that that speck of light on the continent was them. At least they thought it was them, so they thought as they stared, wide-eyed at the images. The Admiral continued, "Before we go any further, I'd like to have the names of the two officials I'm currently speaking to," and, upon noticing looks of surprise, she explained almost mockingly, "I feel it's only natural to introduce ourselves properly. I did... Your turn." And she then locked eyes with Karlstahl, a killer's glare communicated more by the faint motions of her body than by the holographic eyes.
"President Jeanne Monet, of the Republic of San Magnolia's interim government," Jeanne stepped up, unfazed. Karlstahl looked to his old comrade.
He followed up, "General Jérôme Karlstahl, San Magnolia armed forces. And you're right."
"Oh?" Nakano raised a holographic brow at him, smirking.
"Our government's currently scrambling over each-other to understand who you people are," He replied calmly, "And how you even got here..."
"That's a long story. One that I will tell you depending on how this initiation of our inter-governmental discussions go... Let me be blunt, General, President, I'm not a politician," She spoke, straightforward, "I'm a military woman who's seen her fair share of the worst both mankind and other foes had to offer. Yet the shit I saw when I descended two times within the Eighty-Sixth sector made me consider several times over my belief of the need for Mankind's survival."
"... How much did you see...?" Karlstahl asked, holstering his handgun. Either he'd become aware he couldn't shoot a hologram, or...
"Enough. Camps, the acting soldiers of Spearhead and their ages..." She shrugged, then murmured, "The death and destruction that they're dealing with. It was what I saw that made me think I should drag those kids aboard, by force if I had to, and let the Republic take the brunt of what the Legion has in store for you," her voice even colder, the temperature in the room dropping considerably. The general furrowed his brows, while Jeanne frowned... Then the woman said the unexpected, "However... You are all still humans. Some of you may be monsters, creatures who'd see the Eighty-Six die because of some misguided belief of racial superiority, or superiority in general... But you are human... And I and all my men and women have sworn a vow to protect mankind no matter where it lay."
"Why are you contacting us now, of all times? How long have you even been here, above us and around us?" Jeanne inquired, staring the woman in the eye.
"A couple of months at least," The woman shrugged, "We lost count of the days when we started busying ourselves with mass deployment of troops to secure the Eighty-Sixth Sector's FOBs. Currently, over seventy-five percent of bases belonging to the Juggernaut squadrons of the Republic have received substantial military reinforcements, not to mention material assistance and supplies."
"That long..." Jérôme murmured, "Just when our Radar started 'glitching'," and he gave the necessary quotation marks using his fingers, "I presume you have some form of groundside intelligence gathering unit within San Magnolia. Can't explain how else you got this communication device to us..."
"Indeed. Perceptive, General..." She nodded, "Again, provided how this goes... You may learn of our assets... As we build trust, of course."
"So, what are you after?" Jeanne inquired, "You don't just contact the officials of a country to berate them over the human rights violations done by the rest of the government unless you have some sort of reason."
The woman's words seemed almost hopeful, honestly, so the Admiral felt. She gauged the reaction of the general for a moment and he, too, seemed to stare at her with the faintest flicker of hope behind a face filled with the cynicism of a long life in a military that would use children for war, a military that he could do nothing to change the face of. Not yet, anyhow.
"Ignoring the fact that you two are taking the news of what amounts to humanoid Aliens hovering over your planet very well, what can I say? You aren't wrong, madam President... Our current objective, as I said, is to ensure the survival of Mankind, be it in the War we have been fighting for almost three decades, or for your close-to-decade-long war against the Legion's inexhaustible war machine. We cannot depart your Solar System even if we wanted to..."
"Our objective since we have discovered that issue has been to assist the Eighty-Six in any and every capacity possible... Including seeing how we can..." She hesitated for a moment, then said as slowly as she could, "Deal... With San Magnolia's backward government. We sort of promised them, too... To put it short, we want to help the Republic be what it's made itself out to be:A welcoming country for all... One that seeks to redeem itself."
"..." Jeanne's lips quirked into a smile which grew as she digested this new information. She looked over to Karlstahl, then elbowed him in the shoulder, giving the Admiral the warmest pearly white smile she could. She stated, "Admiral... Let me, as highest representative to San Magnolia's government, be as honest to you as I possibly can. I had almost completely lost hope in any possibility of change before you had arrived."
"You support efforts to bring the Eighty-Six back home?" Eiko inquired, crossing her arms to her chest.
"I do," She nodded, firm, her voice hard, "I fought beside some Colorata at the start of the damn war with the machines Giad put out. Lot of good men and women... What our people did to them was nothing short of the worst offense and biggest middle finger to the very beliefs we held so dear when this Republic was created, when San Magnolia sacrificed herself to help us... I'm among the few people with a voice trying to make a difference."
"Sort of like major Milizé, then," The Admiral smiled, then saw Jérôme twitch. She nodded, then said, "I apologize, General, but we've coopted her help..."
"... I understand... Lena is one of the most vocal supporters of the plight the Eighty-Six face," He sighed deeply, rubbing his eyes, "Oh, God, I'm gonna be stuck with having to help Jeanne now, aren't I?"
The prez smirked, patting him on the back, "You bet your ass you are, General," Then she turned to the smiling Admiral Nakano and said, "If you need anything... Anything at all... Just let us know. We'll be open for coms whenever."
"Our planet-side agents will meet with you and let you know what needs to be done," The woman nodded, then hummed and said, "While this is just a formality, since you both seem to have agreed to the unspoken terms proposed by the UNSC, I must state that what has been spoken in this room must remain separate and secret. For all intents and purposes, this meeting may never have happened... Both for your safety and ours. If you don't agree to keep quiet, well, beside the orbital armament and the Nuclear Warheads we have at the ready..."
With one hand motion, the admiral gave the order.
Both Jeanne and Jérôme turned defensive, the latter reaching for his pistol as, ahead of them, a squad of soldiers deactivated what seemed to be an active camouflage field from their heavy-duty armors. Orange-tinted, opaque visors stared at the duet of officials of the Republic, while matte-black rifles and carbines with screwed-on suppressors and holographic sights lay firmly in their hands. Only one, however, had his or her rifle trained and it was on the other door, not on them.
"... Incredible..." Jérôme murmured, looking at the soldiers, "Active camouflage...?"
"Oh, I think we're gonna be best of friends, Admiral," The President smirked, then saluted the soldiers in the room and said, "Y'all gonna need to brief us on this UNSC. I presume the Admiral is a busy woman."
"We won't be briefing you, ma'am, sir," The leader of the team spoke, his own voice young, almost like that of a twenty-year-old. He then stated, "An agent will come to contact you the moment they can... General. You will be met by two of our agents as well. They'll know we've spoken to you and will request to remain and assist, provided you give them the intel they require."
"I understand," He said hesitantly, "... Admiral."
"Yes, general Karlstahl?" She looked down at him.
"... I pray to the good lord you know what you're doing... I've only read about possible coups in books and you already have the perfect setup for one. I only have one request if I am to help you and your people," He spoke, staring right through the woman's hologram at the soldiers in that camouflage armor. She nodded, staring at the man herself, well aware of how honorable certain military men were.
"Go on," She nodded.
"Make it a bloodless coup. I don't want our people killed. We've made mistakes, certainly, but... A fair trial for the entire government is preferable to unadulterated murder," He stated firmly. The Admiral nodded, smiling, while Jeanne placed a reassuring hand onto the man's shoulder. He knew, more-so felt that the UNSC was here to help. The soldiers, the preparation, the infiltrations... He spoke again, "One more thing... You will need footage, intel, data, maybe dirt on the government officials themselves. Those that don't support the president... I'm sure her secretary can provide."
"We'll leave getting the Secretary involved to the Prez. Any other members sympathetic to the cause we can contact, either through you or through our agents?"
"The Von Penrose household. The matriarch is the only one left there, sadly, after her husband, a brilliant scientist with high ethical and moral stances, committed suicide because of what he was forced to do. His daughter, Technical Lieutenant Henrietta von Penrose..." he paused, then remembered the two new arrivals that had come some time ago, those that he'd assigned to Lena to train... And he grinned, "I'd presume she's already been made aware, too?"
"Yes. Tech Lieutenant von Penrose assisted us in providing our forces with the Para-RAID devices we currently have equipped," The Admiral replied calmly, "Poor girl..."
"Mhm," Jérôme nodded, "I knew her father... We weren't friends, just acquaintances, but he was brilliant. She is as brilliant as him... And sadly forced to carry on the legacy... Other members of the government that could possibly help belong to the Health Minister's cabinet, the Health Minister himself included. He's also a former member of the Military, Army Medical Corps. Then, there's the Minister of Agriculture, the Minister of Internal Affairs and her cabinet and the Minister of External Affairs. Poor bastard's underfunded and a bit more respectful to the Eighty-Six, considering..."
"We'll see to gathering these people to our side, then," The Admiral nodded, "I will also have a soldier brief you and your men and women about the UNSC as quickly as possible... And we will prepare a report to deliver to the populace once we've seized control of the country properly. The Alba will need to learn to fight again... Those are plans for the future, however. It is a ways away."
"Mhm," Jérôme replied, "Will that be all, ma'am? We have to get to work."
"That, we do, General. That, we do... Yes, that'll be all. DAGGER team. Exfiltrate. Leave the secure-link holo-com device with the President and General. May we speak again soon... Perhaps in person," She smiled. The com line winked off, as did the device. The soldiers of DAGGER team gave quick salutes, then disappeared into thin air once more, stepping out and actually closing the door behind them.
"Huh..." The President started, "Well-mannered Special Forces..."
"... Jeanne." He looked to her, concern reading in his expression like it was an open book, "Have we just...?"
"We have," She replied, smiling, "We've found our out... Our way to redeem the Republic..."
"I don't know... I don't..." Karlstahl rubbed his eyes, feeling a migraine coming, "We just signed ourselves off to assisting in overthrowing the very government we're serving..." He then whispered to her. She nodded, seemingly well aware of what they had just agreed to. He spoke to her, "Do you want to risk this? One mistake, one misstep, ONE FAILURE... And we've just started a war with a more-advanced version of mankind. One that we can't win. And one we won't be able to negotiate our way out of because we may both get executed..."
"We'll be fine, Jérôme," She replied, self-assured and clearly cocky, "What I want to hear about now is the UNSC itself... I'm gonna get one of the Spooks they sent groundside to tell me the tale... Wanna tag along? I'll make tea and popcorn..."
"... I think I'll just get back to work," He sighed, then actually gave his old friend an albeit tiny smile. He turned to her, saluted, then said, "If I may, madam President..."
She saluted back, then cracked a wide grin, "Dismissed, General Karlstahl, my friend... Let's get going..."
They had a damn Republic to redeem and rebuild from the ground up...
San Magnolia HQ.
R&D Section
Once more, Annette found herself typing away at the computer. She swore to herself, a lot of these idiots didn't know how to operate the simplest of goddamn UIs. She sighed, then looked to see Mathieu at his workstation, just behind her, fixing up an actual issue instead of a User Interface cockup. She asked, "How's that bug with the system targeting going?"
"Just managed to squash it," He yawned. He'd been up for the better part of twenty-four hours at this point, working with her on a new application for the Military, as per Lena's request. He looked back, the thin outlines of black bags appearing under his eyes, "You good over there with that UI issue? Seriously, you'd think a former science major would know how to use the most basic-ass UI in the world at this point."
"You'd think so, definitely," She snorted, "But, this is the military... Not everyone has an IQ a hundred or above..."
The man chuckled, then leaned back after saving the code and closing the window. Annette looked back at him, wondering if he was about to fall asleep at the station. General Karlstahl had departed the building to see what the President wanted nearly two hours ago, that much she'd heard, and there was a lot of commotion relating to the fact the UNSC had actually been revealed. Them, or at least the Marines and Troops on the ground.
It was thankfully contained to the military HQ for right now, otherwise there'd be panic in the streets. She looked past the glass window of the entrance to her station to see them carrying the man whose face was beaten in, then she snorted, wearing her smugness on her face. She'd done the dumb thing of reading into the man's history and he was a butcher, pretty much, someone who shouldn't have even been alive right now, if not for the mercy of whoever beat the tar out of him.
She looked to see Mathieu again, staring at the orderlies as they hauled the man past and to the medical wing, then said to him, "You should probably get some sleep."
"Eh," He waved it off, "I'll be fine until I pass out at my desk..."
"That's what I'm concerned about," She murmured, then turned as she saw Lena and Sam entering the room. She waved to them, then said, "Lena. Sam. What's up? Presume you've heard the commotion caused by the brawl that happened when that aircraft landed at Spearhead HQ," before offering, "Care for some sweets?" as she stood up. Lena sighed, smiling.
"She never does change," Matt observed, smirking.
"Christ, bro, you're looking tired," Samantha voiced, arms crossed, "Why don't you go sleep in the bunks?"
"I'm good, Sam. Just told Annette the same thing. I'll take a power nap at my station and get back to fixing up whatever the hell the rest of the IT department manages to break in the main code," He stated, waving off the worry of his family member. She rolled her eyes, looked to Annette and raised a brow. The woman shook her head, smiling predatorily at the man.
"Right," Sam sighed, then said, "Yeah, we got the word. Our folks finally decided to reveal themselves after someone pointed a pistol at Spearhead-Actual's noggin... That someone being the dude that got beaten to a pulp by one of our ODSTs," and let out a mischievous chuckle. Lena rolled her eyes, then sat herself down at the table in the middle of the room and watched Annette setting it, placing four cups of tea this time instead of just two.
"Y'know," Sam started, smirking as she ran a finger on the lip of her cup, "You'd think a Frenchwoman would find drinking tea sinful... But I'm not complaining. The stuff you manage to acquire always tops everything else, mon amie. Yorkshire?"
"Appreciate the compliment, do not know the tea company," Replied Annette as she slid the drinks over. When Matt joined them, she leaned toward him and said, "I put three cubes of sugar in this thing. You'll either wake up or have a sugar crash so bad you'll be asleep before we finish the cinnamon rolls," before sitting herself down. Matt looked at her, concerned. She ignored him, sipping her own tea.
"So..." Lena started, "What'll happen now?"
"Now?" Sam hummed, "Well, we proceed to the next phase, get new orders, that sort of thing... And see where this leads us."
As Annette started to say something, a soldier entered the room. He looked to Lena and said, "Major Milizé, sorry to interrupt your break, but General Karlstahl has requested to see you..." to which Lena seemed taken aback. She looked to her friends, then got nods from all of them, with Sam grinning as if she was aware what this was about. Whatever happened during Karlstahl's meeting must've had her name brought up as an assistant or accessory to the UNSC...
She sighed, stood up and followed the soldier, giving puppy eyes to the trio as if asking to be helped. Annette rolled her eyes, stood up and followed the girl and her escorting soldier from a distance. Once they reached the General's office, the girl stepped inside and Annette stood out, listening to what was being spoken... Inside, meanwhile, Karlstahl looked over to Lena and stated simply, "You do know you could have spoken to me, do you not?"
"S-Sir?" She started.
"The UNSC, Lena. You could've told me about them," He offered, then leaned back into his seat, "I could probably have helped earlier if I knew about them."
"I was told not to say anything," She replied.
"Because a bunch of cloaked soldiers would shoot to kill," He hummed, "Said the same thing to us when I and president Monet met the Admiral," and that seemed to surprise Lena. He nodded, "The talk was productive, before you ask. I was roped into assisting the President in her endeavors and in providing intel for the Military, but..." He sighed deeply, "The biggest reason Jeanne seemed to even consider helping the UNSC was you, Lena."
"Me?" She raised a brow. Karlstahl nodded, then stood up and approached her. He placed his hands on her shoulders, then looked the young woman over. Clad in her uniform, the girl was somehow emanating confidence, despite the suddenness with which she was called by him. He actually, genuinely smiled, which surprised Lena. Certainly, her uncle would smile at times, but there would always be a hidden sadness behind it all. It still existed here, but it was deeper down, suppressed by a joy Lena had yet to see.
She smiled back, then asked, "Why me?"
"Jeanne and I may have had our differences when she went into politics, but the driving force behind her decision was always your father's belief that the Eighty-Six did not deserve what was done to them... And she wanted to see if she could make a difference. Now? Now, you took your father's place and are still providing Jeanne a reason to fight, despite the years weighing on her..." He replied, then sighed, "... As for me? I'm... Not sure what to think. If the UNSC is who they say they are..."
"They are," Lena nodded, "They liberated one of the camps a Spearhead Processor, Laughing Fox, was in when he was a kid... And they're still doing it right now."
"I see..." He nodded, "Here's to hoping they won't clash with the MPs too much... Lena, if you're still dedicated to helping the Eighty-Six, the UNSC is your best bet... I am not sure what I can do for you... But... I can see your father's and your desire to return to the Republic's old ways is within reach. I hope your new allies deliver, so that you can live a relaxed life after the war, but..."
"I know, uncle," She smiled, placing a hand on his forearm, "I'll handle everything... Not to mention Sam, Matt and Annette are helping... And we can find other pro-Eighty Six members in the military, bring them in and have them help our cause while the President is working..." And she chuckled, "I can't believe I'm inspiring our president to try and bring change... She won't hear the end of that..." and she chuckled. Ah, Lena and Jeanne had met before. She was a pseudo-auntie to the girl back in the olden days, when her father was alive... She'd stopped visiting shortly after his death, though...
The two girls may have seemed at each-other's throats, but they were basically two peas in a pod... And they laughed half the time together...
"... Yeah..." he nodded, "You two are more alike than either lets on."
"I think we know... We're just born stubborn," She replied warmly, "Uncle... Are you okay?"
He breathed in, then out, then said, "I am... I'm a bit more at peace, knowing that... Well, that you're no longer fighting a second war against the Republic's current political climate alone. I think... I think your father would be proud of the woman you've become, Lena," before he squeezed her shoulders firmly, then stepped back and said, "Anyways... That is all, major. I'd suggest rallying your comrades and continuing work. We have a long road ahead of us."
"That we do, sir," She smiled brightly. The two saluted each-other quickly, then Lena jumped and hugged her uncle. She quickly bid goodbye and stepped outside, running face-first into an eavesdropping Annette and her two ONI friends. The two whined as they collided, while Matt and Sam laughed at the sight. The two ONI spooks froze afterward, seeing the general staring right at them. Quickly, they saluted, then scrambled to help Lena and Annette up before they ran out of the place.
The man sighed, shaking his head, then said to himself, "Right man at the wrong place can make all the difference, Lena. Hope you're the right girl at the wrong place at this point..." before marching back to his desk and letting the door slam shut. He sat himself at his desk and started parsing through the remaining forms, then smiled as he saw a supply request for Sledge Hammer squadron.
She needed to introduce Lena to that commander soon...
Back in the R&D Room, Lena and Annette nursed head bumps... The latter murmured, "Probably shouldn't have eavesdropped."
"Ya think?" Chorused the three others, with Matt pulling out his medical kit and sliding two painkillers to the girls, plus a pair of quick-freezing ice bags to put on those bumps. Sam giggled, watching her brother becoming a househusband for a moment, before joining him in preparing something to help with the presumable pain that the two dumbass Alba girls had inflicted on each-other. He looked over to Annette as she held the cold bag on her forehead. She and Lena looked to one-another, then started giggling.
"What?" He asked as he slid them water bottles from the fridge.
"Nothing..." Both of them chorused, then continued giggling, all the while the man stared at Annette beneath his sister's iron gaze. She hummed, then smiled.
She knew her brother too well. He was in looooove~.
Legion Territories
Between the borders of the Federal Republic of Giad and the Republic of San Magnolia
Former Border City of Steinburg
"Hades... No Face... Respond..." An emotionless voice rung through his processor, awakening him to the brightness of the world.
"No Face. Hades. Go ahead..." He replied.
"New Variable forces mobilizing for patrol. Access to communication achieved. Prepare strike force and breach. Mistress wants demonstration of capability. No Face, out."
"Understood. Hades, over and out."
The Mechanical voice that had just spoken to him through the specialized communication system of this machine's systems was that of 'No Face'. Shepherd unit, Supreme Commander of Legion Military Power across the Continent. This unit, the correspondent of the message, was Hades. Newly-acquired Shepherd unit commanding Task Force Gamma-3, outside the borders of the Republic of San Magnolia.
He knew he was once one of the New Variable's troops. He remembered faint details of his days, dropping into combat alongside his fellow soldiers against another enemy he had no real recollection of save for blurred masses of blue, black and many other colors, their weapons flashing with the heat of a thousand suns against what was once his epidermis. Hades was a newcomer to the Legion's ranks.
His frame was a Skorpion artillery piece, armed with the standard multi-launch 80mm anti-tank missile launcher. Light and poorly armored, it served as the perfect mobile striking platform for him. He had once been fast, agile, meant for deep strikes behind enemy lines. With this, he had the reach to blast apart this New Variable, his old Army, his old Comrades, with a streak of missiles while directing his dozen Löwe tanks and sixty Ameise into battle, not to mention his elite platoon of artillery pieces.
His former Comrades surely brought something to counter artillery. He would need to spot and destroy it before it got a bead on his platoon. He sent the awakening signal to his task force, watching as dozens of the silver-colored machines of the Legion arose to their feet, the sky above darkening as a cloud of Eintagsfliege joined them from the Command Post. Dullahan would be watching and transmitting the data to the Mistress.
He stood to his feet, showing his platoon of artillery tanks to follow through a direct command. These 'White Sheep', as the Eighty-Six unit known as Báleygr had referred to them, were dumb, but they followed his orders well enough. He began to skitter forward, marching just behind the main wave of Löwe while his artillery marched in a column behind him. The Löwe and the Ameise were advancing in a staggered chevron formation, distance kept between each single unit so no counter-artillery could easily wipe them out.
Hades made the calculations for the chance of an enemy ambush. He accessed the data within the Legion's central mainframe in regards to the possibility of an ambushing force and saw that elite Eighty-Six Processor Squadrons had a tendency to prepare said ambushes ahead of time. He selected the engagement zone and told his forces to continue the advance through that area. His processor worked overtime in calculating possible hiding spots for the Ambush. The tree-line was thick enough to hide the inferior enemy machines and infantry.
IDIOTS! his mind screamed at him, faint traces of his humanity, his fear, resurfacing. Bringing infantry into battle... Too many would die...!
He 'blinked', meaning he shut off his single external visor camera for a split second as he squelched the 'worry' he felt. These were the enemy. More processing power to be harvested for his platoons, no longer his comrades, no longer important beyond being targets... He did not recall what 'blinking' was, but he knew it was done out of reflex more than anything. A reflex he should remove. It occupied precious operational space, like the programmed breathing reflex that he had erased a week ago from his system. Legion did not require breathing capabilities.
He added several more calculations and processes to his system as they advanced to the target area. Estimated arrival was around noon. He could tell the time due to his geo-location system, which was useful in the targeting of his main artillery battery. The cloud of Eintagsfliege above occupied much of the sky. Enough so that it seemed dark to the naked eye.
... He recalled that his former comrades may bring their own war machines. He refreshed his memory on the vehicles themselves and soon found them superior in firepower to the thin-framed mechs of the Eighty-Six Processors. He set the general programming of his tasked platoon to target them when spotted. The Löwe would blast the tanks apart while the Ameise would wipe out the infantry...
Hmm...
He called up several Anti-Personnel Homing Mines hidden within the building and slaved them to his processing unit, just in case he needed to counter enemy Warthogs. Soon, the hundreds of odd, humanoid machines emerged from the buildings, ditching the clothes of fallen Eighty-Six Processors and their anti-personnel rifles to reveal their thin aluminum frames. They ran beside the machines in an uncoordinated, horde-like manner, but somehow avoided getting crushed. The Mines were useful as a distraction for the main unit that'd force them to expend ammunition on a charging horde of mindless, replaceable tin cans.
The world around him would burn. All of humanity would burn. The Legion would be victorious, no matter what the cost in replaceable machinery. They would strip-mine the entire world to win. And they would win. Projections said so. That the foe would run out of processors soon and that any who survive would be assimilated for use as more Shepherds, so he was not so alone.
They would win... But what after...? Wondered the mind of James Hardin, Corporal of the ODSTs, for the last time before the last of him was erased...
But what after, indeed...?