Interlude 8: Rubicon
Nothing matters. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever….
There is nothing but damnation waiting for me.
After what I have done? My lady would be ashamed of my utter failure as a knight, and as a sister.
Gilly and Andreas have left me to my own devices after what happened. Though Gilly at least was kind enough to return my cigars and the key to my liquor cabinet.
…..Which I have taken the opportunity to try and deplete in short order. Hah! The great Cornelia li Britannia, the "Goddess of Victory", the "Witch of Britannia", drinking herself into a stupor like a vagrant.
Lounging on a sofa, sipping tequila straight from the bottle, too drunken to even stand up.
Not even Otto von Bismarck himself could see a way out of this. My reputation, my standing within the Empire, any hopes I had of protecting Euphie… All of it, ruined. And all for a godsdamned lie.
Zero. My beloved little brother Lelouch...alive all this time, and the hated enemy who stole my Euphie—!
…...No. That's a lie. Lelouch never took her from me. Euphemia left because I wouldn't listen. Because I was too consumed by vengeance, by hate, and because I refused to even consider why she would desert me.
Yes...that's why I collapsed and didn't try to stop Nunnally from leaving. Because I could bear the hate of the world, the scorn of the peerage, the furious glares of the Numbers… but not Nunnally. Not her looking at me with that look of righteous fury and unshed tears.
…The Numbers…..gods be damned. They were never responsible. I….have been killing people whose only fault had been to lose a war. It is one thing to prosecute them for failure to follow Imperial policy and as enemy combatants. No apology is necessary for that.
But my personal vendetta? My casual dismissal of them for my brothers and sister who died by their hands? No, that is inexcusable.
A gleam of metal catches my eye. Two objects on the carpet in my chambers. My gunblade, loaded with the safety on. And….
My lady's last gift to me. Her engraved zippo lighter.
Picking up the gun in one hand, and the lighter in the other, my eyes bloodshot and bleary, look between the two.
Lady Marianne...what would you advise me to do?
Would you have me surrender to my fate as an officer of the Empire? Would you have pay recompense for my myriad sins and failings with my life? Or….is there yet another path, one I cannot see?
A practiced motion cocks my weapon and brings it to a firing position. A position I slowly and gingerly alter, by turning the weapon around, with the barrel placed upon my quivering lip…..
Perhaps in the end, I have fallen too far. After all is said and done, what good have I accomplished? My life has been given in service to an Empire I cannot help but hate and despise now. My last remaining family that I care about have all deserted me, abandoned me for an impossible dream and a man I had thought long since dead.
It is utter madness. Insanity. How can they believe? How can they have so much faith, so much hope that he will return, that Lelouch can do the impossible?
What drives them so? Nunnally, Euphemia, please… Tell me what I should do…
"When did you stop being my big sister, and become the Emperor's bitch?"
My heart stops with the suddenness of a rifle bullet striking it as my sister's words crash upon me once more.
….Can it truly be so simple? Can I make up for years of ignorance and culpability by betraying one oath for another?
"Who am I first? A general? An officer? A princess? An older sibling? What matters most to me?" I whisper as I slowly pull the rifle away from where the heavy bullet was poised to pierce through my skull and end my misery.
No. I am all of these things. I cannot abandon one for another. But…
"A general serves at the pleasure of the king, and because they believe in the kingdom."
I'm sorry, Fath… no, Your Majesty. However, you have forced me to make this choice. You made your opinion of me and how little I mattered to you known when you sent the "Butcher of Africa" here.
"I am not betraying one oath for another. I am but reaffirming my first oath, and renouncing my allegiance to a king unworthy of it."
Resolve fills me as my gaze hardens, my aim steadying as adrenaline starts to course through me, granting me clarity and purpose. I know my course now.
Fury suffuses me as I finally understand where Zero's hatred of the Empire comes from, my father's stony countenance appearing for a moment within my empty tequila bottle.
"Tenka Fubu, Father."
Glass shatters as the loud crack of my rifle bullet resounds in the room, splinters flying around as I hold the lighter up to my lips, planting a kiss on it.
"Hold on, Lulu, Nunnally. Big sister Nelly is coming."
The doors of my chamber slam open as Guilford and Darlton rush in, doubtless drawn by the rifle round.
"Nelly!" "My princess!"
Guilford immediately goes to his knees, looking utterly terrified, then bewildered as he realizes there is no wound upon my person.
"You...you're not injured?"
Darlton looks at the smoking gunblade and where the rifle bullet is lodged in the wall.
"You give us a scare there. Were you—"
A grim nod is my answer before I pocket the lighter and look up at him, holding Guilford's hand.
"I considered it, even had my weapon cocked and ready. But? You should know me by now. Cornelia li Britannia is not a woman who surrenders."
Guilford breathes a sigh of relief. No princess ever had so faithful a knight.
"Andreas, Gilly, tell me. What do you think I should do?"
Doubtless they expected me to ask this. But it was likely not with resolve and determination in my eyes.
"Way I see it? Y'all already know what yer gonna do. Ya jus' wanna hear what we're thinkin'."
Astute.
"Andreas, you were my mentor along with my lady. Speak truth to me now, as you have always done."
Darlton's eyes dart from the hole in my chamber wall, to my doubtless red and bloodshot eyes.
His scarred countenance sags as he kneels to look me in the eye, "You've always been the best kid I ever mentored, ya know that, don'tcha?"
Unsurprisingly, he reaches out and holds my shoulder, "I ain't gonna tell ya what to do. You already know what I'm gonna say. And for th' first time in awhile? My heart, and my honor as a soldier, are on the same page."
Trust my second mentor to understand me at a glance, "You knew. You knew I would take this course, the thorny and agonizing road."
"Knew? Nah. I only guessed. Because if ever anything was gonna shake you and make you decide to give the empire the kiss off? Gettin' yer guts torn out by yer sisters and yer heart hung out ta dry like jerky would do it."
Guilford looks on in astonishment, disbelief across his face at what his friend has just said.
Cornelia li Britannia, the "Goddess of Victory" herself, intends to betray the Empire and defect to Zero.
"Your Highness! You cannot be serious! You mean to turn against the Empire, your family, everything you have stood for?! To side with Numbers and terrorists?!" he hisses venomously at the mere thought of doing so.
My response is to turn my head and look him directly in the eyes, at which his head rears back as if struck. And why not? Within my violet eyes burns the blackened flame of vengeance and fanaticism.
…..Ha. Hahahahaha. Ye gods, this is it, isn't it? This dark and entrancing fire, this righteous fury?
This is what Zero, no, Lelouch feels, isn't it? Ah little brother, it is only at this crossroads that I truly understand you, Demon King.
"Guilford. You have known me for over ten years now. So answer me this. If pushed to my absolute limit, with no recourse or recriminations? What would I chose first? My duty or my family? An Empire that has betrayed the latter and spat upon the former, HAS NO RIGHT TO CLAIM MY ALLEGIANCE, GILLY!"
Gilly collapses back, raw shock upon him as I advance on hand and knee, eyes locked onto his.
"You have stood by me through my greatest triumphs, and my deepest sorrows. You have seen me at my best and my worst. And I have never asked more of you than you were willing to give."
It is truly horrifying, isn't it, Gilly? What desperation and agony can do to someone, how it can reshape even the most stalwart into something craven and depraved.
Bitter irony, indeed, that it took being brought so low for me to realize just how wrong I was.
"Euphemia was right. I was simply too pigheaded and blood-drunk to see it. And because of that? I have nearly lost her. Understand this, Guilford, my knight and love. Euphemia is my highest priority. But after her? You and my siblings in the vi Britannia family."
My hips straddle his waist as I hold his cheeks, angling his head to look up at me, his face betraying his inner conflict.
"I will not order you in this. I will only ask you what is most important to you, Guilford. And whether you are truly prepared to kill me. Because that is the only way you shall stop me from this."
"My princess….please do not ask me to do this…..to turn against everything I have believed in...I can't….." his voice whispers, pleadingly at me.
Oh Gilly...I am not asking. I am simply stating the facts. We both know where your heart lies. It's just getting you to face it that is important.
"Guilford….please. We have no more time for agonizing and second-guessing. You KNOW the Empire and my father have wronged the vi Britannias and the li Britannias. And I know this gnaws at your sense of honor, your sense of justice and fairness, your sense of knightly chivalry."
My breath touches his lips as I whisper to him softly, the silence of the room making it heard clearly.
"But can you truly look me in the eye and say that you will serve the Empire, knowing that you will have to face me, and that you act against your own code of honor to do so?"
I can feel him gritting his teeth as frustration and pain gnaw at him.
"My Princess…..what would you have me do?"
"Do as your honor and heart demand. I release you from your oath of service to me. This is my last order to you as your master."
Unthinkable as it may be, this is the only course available. I cannot force Guilford onto this path unwillingly. For I love him and would not see him destroy himself from the doubt and shame of betraying Britannia.
Sitting and taking off his glasses, Gilly looks me in the eyes, then slowly goes to the knight's pose.
"I, Gilbert G.P. Guilford, do hereby renounce my loyalty to my king, my country, and all whom I called friend and ally within. I have chosen my side. And though released I may be, I have chosen to honor my oath to my Princess even so. And in doing so act in accordance with my heart, and my sacred honor."
The snort in the background I can hear is doubtless Andreas treating more casually than it deserves. Of course, I considered that Guilford would refuse to follow or aid me in this endeavor.
But he has been by my side for over a decade, as my knight, my lover, and my closest companion. Not even the prospect of high treason itself would make him falter, I am proud to say.
"Hate to bust up yer lovey-dovey moment, but I got a question. What in tarnation is yer plan?" Darlton grouses from the chair he's slouching in.
Cleaning his glasses off, Guilford turns to look Andreas in the eye, a sharp sense of danger emanating from him as he raises an eyebrow, "Shall I presume you too, plan to betray the Empire, Andreas?"
"Guilford, if I was gonna do something to either of ya? I'da dun it already. Ain't gonna lie, Nelly pegged it right. She walks, I'm goin' with her."
The scar on his face seems to darken as he frowns at us both, "That little weasel Schneizel tried to bomb my boys. And after seeing what Nelly's kid brother did on his own with jack and shit to start with? I'm inclined to think he's got a shot at fixing our fucked-up country."
Hm. Family loyalty trumps all, it seems.
"My plan is simple. We're defecting to the Black Knights. But? We are not doing so emptyhanded. They are rebels and Numbers, so our simply coming there, hat in hand, would never pass muster without Zero there to hold their reins."
I stand up, shaking the cobwebs out of my head as I walk over to my dresser and pour myself a glass of water to take the edge off.
"But if we bring them something worthwhile? That would prove our commitment and seriousness."
Gilly furrows his brow at me, "What could we possibly offer them that would be worth our admitta—?"
"Three things. One, the wreckage of their precious Guren. I'd rather not leave such a superb machine in the Empire's hands, anyway."
Pacing back and forth, I hold out a second finger, "Second, the remnants of the Gawain itself. Lelouch would be grateful to receive his Knightmare back, if and when he recovers, and again, the technology is too useful for the Empire to be allowed to retain."
My general and mentor gives me a sharp look, "All of that and a pound-fifty'll get ya a ticket to the Rodeo. Two wrecked 'mares ain't gonna mean much, considerin' the hell we put those kids through."
The smirk gracing my lips is one I can only imagine Lelouch has made on quite a few occasions, as well as countless of my siblings.
"Which is why the real prize will be the third and last of our tributes. General Bartley and the Code-R research."
Both now finally understand my aims and why I'm certain this will work.
"We all know Zero and the Black Knights have been ruthlessly pursuing everyone and everything involved in Code-R. I am all but certain that that project is connected with the origins of Zero himself. But this is not mere vengeance I speak of. My aim is something more practical."
Guilford rubs the bridge of his nose as he ponders what I might driving at. Darlton's face shows a crooked eyebrow, betraying nothing of his inner thoughts.
"That perhaps the Code-R research will be enough to save my brother's life, and thereby their organization and rebellion itself."
Foolhardy, perhaps. One might even call it a desperate gamble. Even I do not know if Code-R can truly help Lelouch. But if he is crippled as Nunnally said? It is likely beyond even current Britannian medicine's powers to aid him.
"Nelly. You're gonna defect to the Black Knights….on a wing an' a prayer? I ain't sure if yer as crazy as yer brother, or ya still got church bells ringin' in yer head from that crash."
Crazy….perhaps I am mad at that. My family does have something of a predisposition towards insanity, after all. Coming into my own spiral of madness after all that I've been through?
One might even call that poetic irony, right, Lelouch?
"You say that, Andreas. But have you and Guilford not pledged to follow my course, hellbound though it be?"
A quick look between the two of them shows how fast that quip pulled them up short.
"Alright, ya got me there. I'll call the boys in and we'll put it to 'em."
Barely five minutes pass before the daring young men of the Glaston Knights enter. David, Bart, Alfred, Edgar, and Claudio Darlton. Andreas' adopted sons, and among the finest pilots in the Empire outside of the Rounds themselves.
"Hey old man, you said it was an emergency, what's going on?"
The fact that Gilly and I are in attendance, his face grim, and mine looking out the balcony window with my back turned, is an immediate tell that this is not an ordinary meeting.
"A'ight Bart. I ain't gonna lie. I'm gonna ask you boys a hard question, and…..I ain't asking for the Imperial answer. I want an honest one, and I need it said proper like, ya'll hear?"
Hearing him ask it like that, with his voice pained and weary….it takes an act of will to stop my lip from quivering, and to hide my tears at putting him in this abominable position.
"Dad, what's wrong?"
Boots tread on the carpet doubtless Andreas making his way to stand in front of them.
"If ya'll had to pick, which is more important? Doing what's best for the Empire? Or doing what ya think is right?"
"Dad, what are you—?"
*stomp!*
Leather stamping into the carpet interrupts David's question.
"I'm asking you boys straight up. What would you do if you were told to do the loyal thing, or the right thing?"
I'm so sorry, Andreas my old friend. Making you ask your sons this is one of the vilest things I have ever done. But you know me well enough that I would never demand their allegiance. Even my royal guard, what little remains, would given a choice. How much more precious then, the sons of the man I call an uncle?
"...Dad….what the fuck is going on?"
My shoulder is touched, breaking me out of my melancholy mood, and making me turn my head towards Guilford, who has wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me as I lean against him.
"It's like this. We….had a visitor not long ago. Y'all remember a little while ago when Nelly shut herself in her room and I said don't bother her? Well, that was on acccount'a who came callin'."
A heavy sigh and a deep breath is all the warning they get.
"The visitor was Nunnally vi Britannia. And...she came to deliver an offer, and an ultimatum. Turns out that crazy polecat Zero we been fightin'? It's her brother, Lelouch. And Nelly got an offer to defect. And...well….she's plumb ready to take it and skedaddle."
Daggers pierce my heart at the shouts of outrage and disbelief.
"What the fuck?!"
"No fucking way! Big Sis would never go turncoat!"
"She's gotta be an imposter! The vi Britannias all died years ago!"
"Big Sis! Tell….him…..yipe…"
Bart's plea to speak up has caused me to turn around and level a killing stare at him.
"Tell him what? Go on Bart. What should I say?"
Messy is not quite adequate for how I look. Disheveled is perhaps more accurate. And yet, I feel more alive than I have in almost 8 years.
"That it was a lie? That I wouldn't know the face of my baby sister, who I cared for, played with, who I had to watch operated on after my lady was assassinated, that I could somehow be mistaken? Go on Bart, TELL ME WHAT I SHOULD BLOODY SAY!"
Bart's voice seems to curdle as I stare him down, only letting out an intelligible noise as he shakes his head in refusal.
"I know Nunnally's face. I know her voice. It was HER. And her being alive along with Lelouch means that the Empire has betrayed my trust and everything I have ever believed in."
Pacing down the line, I continue my rant to their stricken looks. "Moreover? That! Is why Euphemia defected! Lelouch was the first man she ever loved! And rather than fight him or force Suzaku to split his loyalties, she ran to his side! That's where she is! And I intend to join her!"
My hand folds over breast as I salute, "My father has betrayed me, my siblings, and used their deaths to prosecute a war under false pretenses! Which also means everything Zero accused him of during our duel was true! My lady's death was covered up!"
"...Holy fuck."
"Couldn't have said it better, David. Now, what are ya'll gonna do about it?"
Darlton picks up a half-drained bottle of tequila, one I'd apparently missed finishing emptying, and takes a quick pull before turning to look at his son's faces.
"In case it ain't apparent yet? I'm goddamn pissed off. And I'm aimin' to join Nelly on this shindig. Hence my asking: Imperial way, or the other way? I ain't gonna order ya boys on this one. Ain't got the right ta ask. Voice your conscience, and pick. Whatever ya do, I'll respect it."
"...Glaston team huddle."
Edgar and the others duck down, whispering among themselves. What's said is not audible, aside from a few muffled curses and exclamations.
I can't tell how much time has passed, minutes, half an hour, more? Everything has seemed to slow to a crawl.
An eternity later, the team turns around, faces determined and set.
"We talked it over. We agreed that we had to do this unanimously, since none of us want to fight each other. We were raised as soldiers and men of honor. And win or lose….we'll stay that way."
Collectively, the team raises their left hands in preparation for a salute and…..
Wait. Did they just all flip the bird simultaneously?
"Fuck the Empire."
"Screw those assholes."
"Like hell I'm fighting under that dick Bradley's command."
"Fight for the guys who bombed us? Like Schneizel? Over Big Sis? No fucking way."
"They made Big Sis cry. Choice seems pretty obvious to me."
Am I…? Oh. I suppose I am. But it's really more that I'm touched. Andreas, you really have raised those boys right.
Darlton gives them a grim look, looking at their faces one by one, disappointment written on his face.
"As yer commanding officer and a general in the Empire? I'm bitterly disappointed at how fast y'all turned traitor and broke the oaths ya swore to uphold. Ya outta be ashamed of yerselves."
Within an instant, his fierce and uncompromising frown turns into a broad smile.
"But? As your pa and a Southern gentleman? I couldn't be prouder," he intones as he pulls his sons into a hug.
As expected. If pressed to chose, a man like Andreas Darlton will chose his honor and family over duty.
….Though I have no right to cast aspersions, seeing that I am doing exactly the same.
"Right then. We only have a night to plan this. And some of the information we need we'll have to figure out, the day of. Gentlemen? Let's get to work."
0900 hours. Bradley arrives within the hour, operation starts now. Our objectives are as follows.
1. Secure The Guren.
2. Secure The Gawain.
3. Secure General Bartley, his research team, and the Code-R data.
4. Evacuate with all equipment and personnel, and proceed to the Black Knights' rendezvous point.
I won't lie, this is a high-risk operation. If our plans are discovered? We'll be cut off without any aid or hope of escape. Officially, my only task is to hold the fort until I am relieved of my command by the Knight of Ten. So I have no business ordering the machines transferred or moved….ostensibly.
Fortunately for us, the garrisons are decidedly unhappy about my being relieved of command and their forced transfer to Bradley's command.
Guilford, Alfred, Edgar, and Claudio are securing the Guren and Gawain. I, on the other hand?
Cool air exits my lips as Bart and David follow me to the secured hangar. The place where our final objective lies.
General Bartley.
Despite never having met the man himself in person before? It's easy to spot the overweight and bald general, who is currently wiping his brow with a handkerchief.
Right...deep breath, Cornelia. Andreas is providing cover and running interference for us. But none of us know how long that will last.
"General Bartley Asprius," I loudly intone as I approach the man, who looks like he's ready to jump out of his skin from nervousness…..or is that fear?
"Y-your Highness! We were not expecting you at this ho—!"
His statement cuts off as unbeknownst to his team observing, his bulk is concealing my dagger pointed at his considerable gut.
"What is happening, General, is very simple. I have found myself disgusted with the Empire and its actions. And thus? I can no longer serve a king unworthy of my loyalty."
His eye widens behind his monocle as he grasps the implication.
"You mean to defect to-ouf!" a grunt escapes him as my elbow connects to his solar plexus.
"Quite. And you are my admission fee, General Bartley," I whisper, a cruel smile gracing my lips as Bart and David train machine guns on his team.
"But….why? Why turn against the Empire? Betray your oath of loyalty? Throw away everything you've worked for?"
Perhaps he will be more cooperative if I give him a reason.
"Something you should have realized from serving Clovis. Family is everything, to those of us in the royal family. It ruined my brother Clovis when he sought vengeance for our siblings lost here. And….it nearly ruined me with it. But God, or perhaps the devil, has given me a second chance. A chance to undo the greatest mistake I have ever made in this life."
The burning ambition in my eyes, the indefatigable madness that characterizes my family, I have no doubt Bartley has seen this same look in the eyes of Clovis before his end.
"...by Saint Darwin…..it cannot be…." he whispers as his arms drop to his side, raw shock apparent on his jowls. "The Black Prince….he's come back…..as our greatest enemy….."
"Now you know why I have become a turncoat, General. Will you come willingly, or must I take you by force?" I say softly, my dagger still poised to strike.
His bald head shakes in the negative as he slumps over, walking to a nearby computer terminal, hands on the head console.
"All our work….everything my prince did, the crimes against man, god and nature….all for a lie. Prince Clovis….Your Highness….forgive us for our failure to protect you from yourself…." the man sniffles as he types in something, sets of documents, reports and schematics flashing on the screen, a tear running down his cheek as he buries his head in his hands.
Ye gods...you were never any sort of traitor or manipulator at all, were you? You were as loyal as Gottwald is to my brother.
"He may have become something monstrous in the end, General. But, you honor the man he was with your loyalty. I… regret things I have said in passing about you and how I believed you had used my brother for your own ends. You have my sincerest apology, Bartley Asprius," I say with a heavy sigh as I lay a hand on his shoulder.
David finishes tying up the scientists and then looks to me with concern, "Cornelia...how much longer?"
Loudly blowing his nose with a tissue, Bartley wipes his brow off and stands up, adjusting his monocle.
"There will be no need for any violence, Sir Darlton. I will come with you willingly. My master is long since dead. I will, however, adhere to the spirit of his dream, or perhaps the meaning he would have given it, had he known the truth. Prince Clovis did all that he did for the sake of family and a vengeance that those he sought to avenge would have decried him for undertaking."
A disc pops out of the computer, which the man snatches up and puts into an armored case holding a laptop, some files and paperwork, and then shuts carefully with a delicate touch, his eyes puffy and red from his tears, but his presence no less commanding for it.
"This disc and a few files are the entirety of Code-R. I would make one request before we leave."
Bart lights up a cigarette, blowing a smoke cloud upwards, "We're kinda running out of time. The Vampire is due to land any time now."
Bartley raises his nose in a sniff of derision, "I assure you, this will not be an onerous task. I ask that you destroy this hanger and everything in it. And...that I be allowed to take the remaining members of my science team with me."
That's another four...five or so bodies to smuggle out. Not impossible, but it will make our task more difficult.
"Is their presence necessary, sir?" David asks, looking to me for guidance even as he addresses the general.
Bartley takes off his monocle, cleaning it with a microfiber cloth, "If you wish to make use of my team's research, it would greatly facilitate such if the team was there to help implement any ideas you desire to make into a reality."
Hardly a position we can refuse. It would be an odious situation to bring this gift and be able to do nothing with it.
Nodding my head, I gesture to Bartley to speak to his team.
While they are having a whispered conversation, Bart looks me in the eye, "Big Sis...do you trust this guy?"
The operative question indeed. It is hard to extend trust to a man with such vile actions on his conscience. Yet, were they not also undertaken at the behest of his liege lord? The balance of obedience and weighing that against whether one can speak up if your lord is undertaking a perilous course….the worst of all decisions for a faithful retainer.
I rub the bridge of my forehead, "I trust that his loyalty to Clovis was genuine. A man cannot fake that kind of affection and loyalty, not easily. Keep an eye on him, just in case."
Bart looks anxiously at his watch, "Any word from dad?"
A quick glance at my phone shows no messages or signals. Good, in that our subterfuge is not exposed. Bad, in that Andreas isn't checking in.
"Nothing yet. But Bradley should be on final approach if he isn't here already. I trust your father with my life, Bartholomew. Have a little faith," I say as I give him a light elbow to the side with a brief smile.
Bartley waves to get our attention, "Please undo their restraints. I have spoken to my team. They will go where I go."
Snorting at that, David pulls out a set of keys and starts working on removing their cuffs, "Really? Just like that? They know you're turning traitor, they have no problem with that?"
Bartley puts his cloak over his shoulders, "It will let us make use of our research and what we've accomplished. Our names are already persona non grata in the Empire. And none of us wish to be disappeared by VV, or to be forced to continue working on the Siegfried."
The rotund officer hefts up the armored case in his left hand while making a salute with his free arm, "No, Sir Darlton. This is the only course that will afford me the peace of mind of knowing that I am still, in some way, serving Prince Clovis. And perhaps, redeeming his good name."
My brother truly did not deserve the loyalty and honor you have shown him even in death, Bartley Asprius.
"How much longer, gentlemen?"
Bart stands and moves into a parade salute, "Almost set, ma'am. Just finishing setting blasting charges. We can leave momentarily."
Time to check in with Gilly. If all goes well, we can be out of here before noon.
"Guilford. Status."
"Your Highness. We are almost finished. The last of the Guren's wreckage has just been loaded. Alfred and Edgar are busy finishing loading the Gloucesters. Still no word from General Darlton."
Nothing yet? Damnation. Our time is slipping away and my concern is only growing with the passing of the hours. The operation is well within acceptable parameters in all other respects. Andreas' radio silence is the one fly in the ointment. All I can do is pray my mentor and dear friend will make it out of that damned place in one piece.
Bartholomew and David are trying to hide it with the stoicism and sterling character of officers under fire. But even they are straining under the knowledge that they cannot help their father in his hour of need.
…...We can't wait any longer. Andreas knows the protocol if we're separated and where the rendezvous is.
"Prepare to move out."
Anyone else giving that order would surely find themselves at gunpoint and up against a wall. Just as Andreas would do so for his boys if someone suggested abandoning them.
"Ma'am…..are you certain?"
Grimly nodding, I salute with one hand over my breast as I meet David's doubtless worried gaze with my steely resolve.
"Believe me, I well and truly understand your feelings, David. We must stand fast and complete our mission. I know your father would agree with me and urge us to carry on, no matter what might happen."
If there is a bit of moisture around my eyes as I say those words, it is most likely from the chill of the winter morning. Nothing more.
The rumbling of the transport vehicle as we move to link up with the rest of the boys is the only sound present, no one daring to speak a word.
Damnation. A checkpoint. We weren't prepared to fight our way out. The entire operation is predicated on stealth and being well underway before anyone realizes the deception.
Alright Nelly, you can do this. Just one last stop and we're home free.
"Good morning, ma'am—Your Highness?!" the military police officer managing the checkpoint snaps to a salute seeing my fair features.
"Good morning, Officer…?"
"Sergeant Jenkins, Your Highness. We weren't expecting you at our gate, ma'am. How can we help you?"
I lean out to give an imperious gaze at the man, "I'm heading to get some air with the Glaston Knights. We shan't be long."
Sgt. Jenkins lifts his visor, "We weren't told of any missions being authorized. Shall I contact HQ?"
I lean over to whisper in the man's ear, "Truthfully, I'm rather peeved at the situation. I'd rather have to deal with the Vampire as little as possible. The stench of gore and offal follows the man everywhere. I'm sure you understand my reticence, yes?"
The mere mention of Bradley causes a queasy look to cross the Sgt's face as he coughs into his side.
"You mean….the rumors are true? His Majesty actually made that vile creature our new Viceroy?" he whispers in a pleading tone.
My eyes close as my head nods slowly in reply. Small wonder he doesn't know, I have no doubt Schneizel neglected to inform anyone outside of Command Staff deliberately. Likely to stave off dissension in the ranks.
The officer moves to a parade salute, "Far be it from me to question orders from the top, Your Highness. But if it's any consolation? Know that most of the officer corps considers this a vicious backhand unwarranted by your service and conduct."
It takes an act of pure will to not react and show how much my heart is touched by that display of loyalty. And the agony of knowing that this man will raked over the coals for letting me escape here.
"Sergeant. Believe me when I say it was a shock to me as well. Let it be known that you, and every officer who feels as you do, that I have heard your outrage and my heart is gladdened by it. But!"
My arm moves to salute over my chest as I look him dead in the eyes, "We must all do our part for the sake of king and country. And trust that the spirit of our glorious Empire stands tall regardless of the ignoble ambitions of those who would use it for their own ends."
Sergeant Jenkins makes a muffled sound as he swallows his tongue, "O-of course, Your Highness. Forgive me for my impertinence!"
"No forgiveness is needed, Sergeant. You are simply expressing your outrage over an odious turn of events. We thank you for your service, sir! All Hail Britannia!"
The pride of a true Britannian soldier shines in the man's eyes as he clicks his heels together and comes to a perfect parade salute.
"ALL HAIL BRITANNIA!"
The gate barrier rises up, our last obstacle cleared, and in mere moments, we're out of the palace perimeter. With no one the wiser to our subterfuge or cargo.
All Hail Britannia. This may be the last time I ever say those words with pride and honor in my heart. Gods forgive me, for I have spit upon my oath of honor to my country….
"Your Highness?"
I stir from my self-pity at Bartley's voice from behind me. The man had been hidden in the compartment behind the cabin.
"I….I cannot help but be moved to tears by your speaking such to that officer. Know that whatever happens, I hold you blameless. And I am proud to have served with you in His Majesty's army, General Cornelia," Bartley intones softly as he salutes with arm over breast, tears running down his cheeks.
Truly a matched pair, are we not. A general disgraced by a black project under a mad prince, and a princess disgraced for her failure to stop another mad royal.
Andreas…...where are you? I do not know if I can do this without your guidance, old friend. Please…..give me a sign. Something to let us know you are yet safe and well.
The sound of rubber meeting pavement is all that greets our ears, our transport trucks vanishing into the back alleys and myriad ruins of Tokyo.
