Britannian Idiot
Kururugi Suzaku, Knight of Zero
Aerial Battleship Avalon, Kyoto airport
A few hours after sending away Nonette
"—Turns out there's a lotta people- whole countries, who want respect. And they will pay through the nose to get it. How do you think I got rich? I invented weapons. And now I have a weapon only I can defeat. And when I unleash it, I'll get… AHHh!" A log was thrown towards the spandex-wearing ginger, but he blocked it and zapped the protagonist with a finger beam.
"—You sly dog! You got me monologuing, I can't believe it."
Zoned out of his bored mind, the Suzaku slouching on the sofa remembered on a whim an old debate he held with Gino. The contention of animated movies and if they can be as good as live-action films. The details and the outcome eluded him now, given how long since it transpired, but one factor did stick to him rather clearly, the one thing that Gino said when the Knight of Zero lacked an enthusiastic drive.
"Man, I mean… you gotta have an opinion, right? Wouldn't life be rather mundane if we're without passion?"
Back then, he simply thought a discussion on the very subjective nature of moving pictures wasn't worth having, but as time passed, Gino's assessment was starting to chime closer and truer.
Was there anything he really cared about? Something he would be willing to invest precious daylight into for a leisurely reward, some activity that he would be purely intrinsically motivated to do?
Nothing came to mind.
Maybe I do need to get a hobby…
Nonetheless, if Suzaku aimed to strive to be a more interesting person, he wasn't going to start by becoming absolutely engrossed by a children's cartoon, like Euphemia was.
Not to say there was anything wrong with enjoying the animated film. On the contrary, Suzaku loved the way Euphie's irises glistered under the dimmed light of their private room aboard the Avalon.
After bidding goodbye to Nonette, the duo realized they found themselves in a unique period of triviality waiting for the Black Knights to make the delivery and their subsequent trip to Pendragon. Therefore, the pink-haired princess recommended watching a movie where they were the most comfortable, and Suaku saw no reason to refuse. While he knew back then as he did in the present that he wouldn't enjoy it to the same extent as Euphie, it eased his worry that she wasn't so upset like she was earlier.
What he did enjoy was wrapping an arm around Euphie's shoulder, appreciating her soft figure and their tender affection. Occasionally, he would discover a piece of popcorn on the tip of her slender fingers on a wonky flight path towards his mouth. Those were the tastiest bits of swelled corn he ever savoured.
Of course, the matter of their previous quarrel still lingered in the back of his mind. The remainder of an irrationally angry princess who was now snuggling against his chest. Her sweet fragrance and cushy lips coerced Suzaku to forget about her outburst and violence. After all, she was still under the burden of so much tragedy.
Unfortunately, nothing good lasts forever, and the end of their unofficial date encroached by a ring of the room's landline. Euphemia paused the movie, in her eyes were the silent annoyance and disapproval for the disruption. Still, Suzaku had to take the call coming from Avalon's bridge, a literal call of duty.
"—Zero receiving you, send traffic." Suzaku answered, putting Cecile on speaker.
"—My Lord, the BK flagship has landed. They're requesting to speak to our captain." What a specific choice of words, he thought.
"—Roger, I'll be there soon."
After hanging up, Suzaku traded glances with Euphie to ask the unspoken question.
"I'm half a captain, right?"
"…Half is fair."
"Then I wanna come too." Euphemia vehemently announced, making it obvious there was no room for compromise.
"Are you sure? You know… you know?" Suzaku couldn't bear to tear off the bandage over his princess' emotional wound, not one that he wasn't sure had healed.
"Know what? What do I need to know about meeting some Japanese?" Her eerily playful voice presented her sharp sarcasm unhampered. Suzaku wasn't confident how he should treat the sensitive topic of the young royalty's embedded curse.
"This isn't another game. Can you control yourself? You'll be seeing actual Japanese people that aren't me."
"There… shall be an attempt. You've sufficed as a warmup for long enough, let me try this challenge." Perhaps that was the best both of them could hope for, to adapt and improve.
"In the case that you fail?"
"Then who else can stop you from manhandling me?"
"You aren't armed, are you?"
"…The law requires that I answer 'no'."
— —
On the enormous tarmac of the Kyoto airport, Suzaku and a security team made contact with an armed squadron of Black Knight elites. Bypassing the two factions standing in a circle were transport vehicles of varying sizes shipping cargo from one massive carrier to another, all of the supplies were by virtue of Kaguya's generosity.
"Sir Kururugi, I don't believe we have met." A stiff but humble Japanese man spoke to Suzaku, coming forth with his arm extended for a friendly handshake.
"Not officially, although I cannot say I am unfamiliar with the Black Knight's commander. Honoured to meet you, General Kaname Ohgi." Suzaku took the man's hand, initiating their first interaction with a steady grip and a firm gaze.
"No titles so fancy, mister will do just fine."
Ohgi naturally shifted his glance from Suzaku to the rest of his people. Out of all the unfamiliar faces in his crowd, there was one particular individual any Japanese person would immediately distinguish. And were they someone with the most basic knowledge of the most recent history, they had a completely justified reason to wish upon her a painful demise.
However, the Black Knight leader only focused a discreet stare towards Euphemia for a brief moment before turning his attention back to the Knight of Zero. Suzaku couldn't see whether his princess reciprocated the intense gaze, but her unmoving position behind him established her steadfast composure and presence.
The pause in the conversation was long and deliberate, but it arrived at its eventual end peacefully. "We recovered the survivors of the Toromo Agency attack, they're in transfer right now. We'll leave it to your people to figure out who's on whose side." Ohgi stated, moving on from whatever it was he wanted to say but retained regarding Euphemia.
"One of our knights was gravely injured, how is her condition?" Suzaku knew Kallen's identity was destined for exposure aboard the Black Knight's ship, but it didn't cost him anything to speak secretively.
"She is stable, nothing life-threatening… albeit still unconscious. We have done everything in our power to help her, the rest relies on your doctors." Hearing Ohgi's reassurance, Suzaku acknowledged the uplifting news with a nod.
"As the representative for His Majesty, I am tremendously grateful to the UFN and Black Knights for their assistance during our tiring hour."
"It's no bother, we'll help where we can." When Ohgi said nothing else that really warranted a response, Suzaku could sense the imminent conclusion to their gathering.
"If nothing else is of importance, I must prepare for departure. Thank you again, Mr. Kaname."
"Of course. Good luck." Once more, the captain of their respective fleets shook hands out of formality.
At the end of the day, Suzaku had learned nothing about the Black Knight's commander that he didn't wish to lay bare. Ohgi was a resolute man of considerable quality, and there was esteem for a person like him, even if the Round didn't particularly care either way.
Once they had moved away from the dispersed assembly, Suzaku was quick to check on his princess' wellness. "Euphie, still doing alright?"
Euphemia stumbled forward at the mention of her name, only saved from an embarrassing fall in the nick of time by Suzaku's catch. The close-call seemed to have brought her thoughts back from the blank void, the shine of her usual brilliance finally returned to her eyes.
"Woah, I wasn't even home back there."
"Yeah?" If Euphie could prompt her murderous tenacities to step outside when needed, that would be a spectacular development on her curse and evidence of her recovery. "I'm really glad you were okay, thanks for not doing anything crazy."
"I… I'll be alright." Euphemia struggled to match the care and endearment found in Suzaku's tone, but that was a matter he didn't have trouble ignoring. The same could be said for the white knuckles she tried to hide from his view as she interlinked their elbows.
"I think you can overcome this, you're stronger than it."
"Yeah…" Awkwardly, the third princess forced a smile to manifest. "Although, I won't refuse a good genocide." And just as awkwardly, Suzaku faked a laugh.
We're getting there, we have to be.
"Oh, by the by. I saw Guilford back there. We should probably fetch him for my sis."
"You did? When?"
"He was just outside the BK airship, probably doing something."
"That's about a hundred metres away. You can't be sure that's him."
"What do you mean? He isn't Japanese." Euphie stated her case like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Baby steps… and babies learn the fastest. Sensing Japanese at an inhuman distance was relatively better than wanting to kill them in inhuman ways.
Marrybell mel Britannia, the Witch of Britannia
Aerial Battleship Grandberry, somewhere over the Pacific
The night before phase two of Operation Dorothy
"Everyone can cheer with the crowd whilst listening to a motivational speech… can you speak your mind to the masses without a pre-written script?" Those were Lelouch's words, one out of many, wreaking havoc in the bottomless abyss of Marrybell's heart. For the moment, they were also the most relevant.
You're such a fraud, brother. Marrybell knew for a fact she had given emotional sermons and written enlightening orations. On the inside, she knew she was a talented public speaker and a motivator of crowds. However, her oozing confidence on the soapbox was not detached from the self-doubt she stowed away in her bedroom. On the backstage, Marrybell's sweat ran colder than anyone else, she questioned her own decisions more than anyone else, but that aspect of her was never meant to ever see the light of day, not ever.
Yet Lelouch managed to dig up her weakness, managed to unveil another one of her darkest secrets, her deepest fear.
Except you didn't, you were just bluffing me. Marrybell convinced herself of that reality, that Lelouch was not a deity as many of his loyal supporters believed, that he was still of blood and bone. I won't be played for a fool ever again, brother. Your genius intellect won't survive a bullet to the brain.
What good could indecision do for her now, what use did hesitation serve when her back was already against the river. Marrybell collected herself as she prepared for a step out of the backstage towards the podium, this was already a plan in motion, she couldn't be stopped by her own inhibition anymore.
Especially not tonight, a night meant for celebration.
~Don't-you-know I'm~ still~ standing~ better than I ever did~! Looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid~!
"-Alll-right! Hear me now, all the ladies and our three brutes of men! This is the climax of tonight's entertainment!" Spewing excitement with her every syllable as she announced over the microphone, Sokkia enraptured the horde of Devicers Marrybell entrusted her life to.
"We have here, our final guest, our beloved dictator-" Suddenly, Sokkia stuck the mic right next to her mouth and whispered, "-probably the only bitch you actually wanna kill tomorrow," She brought the mic away, resuming her usual antics and pretended she never uttered a word out of line. "She's here to show you how legends play a guitar one-handed, I present to you lassies! It's Marrybell!"
That was Marrybell's cue, and she followed it with all the elegance and delicacy one would expect from a princess attempting to pull off a coup the next morning. Complementing her grand entrance was the start of an instrumental version of Green Day's Know Your Enemy. Picking that significant song for the festivity's finale blanketed her under so many layers of irony she really wondered if she would ever remember the coolness of sincerity again.
With her electric guitar slung over her shoulder and her bad hand supporting the instrument from below, Marrybell took over the speaking role from Sokkia just as the lyrical part of the intro arrived. "~Do you know the enemy?! ~Do you know your enemy? ~Well, gotta know the enemy- oh-eh~!"
The royalty sung to her heart's content the only language she truly adored and understood, it was her performance that roused the souls of her soldiers, her conviction that inspired them to see past her sins and join her as partners in crime. In the front row, just below the podium were the two Ozs, she was holding a horns sign and lightly shaking it to the beat while he delightfully smiled on at her concert.
"~Well- violence is an energy~! Oh-eh, Oh-eh! ~Well- from here to eternity~! Oh-eh, oh-eh-oh! ~Well- violence is an energy~! Oh-eh, Oh-eh-oh! Well, silence is the enemy- so gimme- GIMME REVOLUTION~!"
Her blood pumped through her veins. Her spirit was burning with thrill under the heat of the spotlight as she tapped, plucked and strummed at strings over the fretboard. Having only one limb available meant she couldn't hold any of her notes, yet the listeners didn't seem to mind the imperfect quality of her performance.
Playing her guitar one-handed in reverse wasn't a technique she invented overnight, but a skill she mastered over months out of her love for the art. If the life she lived could be one free from unwanted obligation and unfair responsibility, rocking it out on stage was the way she sought to exist.
"~Do you know the enemy?! ~Do you know your enemy? ~Well, gotta know the enemy- OH-EH~!" The song was about to be over soon, but the moment will be engraved into her memories forever.
"~Overthrow the effigy, the vast majority- ~while burning down the foreman of control~! Oh-eh, oh-eh! ~Silence is an enemy, against your urgency- ~So rally up the demons of your soul! Oh-eh, OH-EH~!"
And the crowd went wild, hopefully out of exhilaration and not compulsion, Marrybell prayed to herself.
As Marrybell audibly exhaled after her jam, Sokkia took over to address the audience. "Here's your face when the princess you're serving who's basically a war criminal plays a song about the violent uprising against the state while about to commit a violent uprising against the state to dethrone her brother who violently overthrew the state."
"-Postmodern monarchy hype!" From amidst the concertgoers, somebody shouted a joke that earned her a ripple of cheers. Marrybell clapped on the wrist of her injured hand to appreciate the amusing paradox.
"Might makes right, but unironically!" Sokkia shouted her approval as well, obviously in sarcasm. "Can our princess affirm for me the legitimacy of our new motto?" She passed the attention back to Marrybell, putting her on the spot she wouldn't dare to leave empty.
"I'm pretty sure it's 'Kill all the fags that don't agree!'." A wave of side-splitting laughter echoed around the auditorium as all her pilots lost it at the young royalty's crude humour.
"-Alright, alright! Settle down!" When the howling didn't die down naturally, Sokkia had to be the bearer of bad news when she demanded silence. "We don't have all night for you animals to fling shit at the stage, the princess here actually has some stuff she wanna talk about!"
With the spotlight gleaming upon her exerted figure and the silence of bated breath awaiting her first note, Marrybell stilled her fretful nerves in the present where her restless soul resided. "Ladies, I… listen, why don't we all just take a deep breath? Let's all calm down a bit, pop a lid over your excitement and stuff. Really, just cool off now."
Marrybell maneuvered her wobbly legs to curl beneath her, taking a seat on the edge of the platform with her electric guitar resting over her thighs. Sokkia took a sport next to her and shut off her microphone, leaving the princess' voice as the only sound echoing in the concert hall.
Marrybell cast her luminous gaze out over the doddering wave of dim glow sticks, each pair representing a trusted soldier taken under her wing. Some of those girls had been with her since the initiation of her anti-terrorist task force, as far back as the day Oldrin first stamped the Glinda Knights' emblem onto her sleeves.
Her Devicers mostly clustered themselves by their squadrons, it wasn't a requirement, but probably because the ones who watched their backs the most often were also their closest buddies.
Aerosmith, Eagles, Metallica, Nirvana, Zeppelin… and Sabbath. Marrybell tried to identify each of the circles by their callsigns and was pleasantly satisfied when she recognized all of them. Of course, not everyone could be here, such as the foot-mobiles scattered across the five airships. But those in this room were secretly Marrybell's favourite, her closest and dearest guards.
My Devicers… my feathers.
They were her soldiers, her aces, her colleague and companions. Marrybell was too high and mighty to drop 'L' bombs on a spontaneous whim, but she knew, at the core of her being, she adored all those girls valiantly flying under her banner. They gave up their chances at normality for her creed, they endorsed her cause for a better world in exchange for their own future.
"Now that's better, this way I can see all of you and you guys can do the same." The commotion had mostly died down now, everyone was waiting for her next words. "I just- err… I'm not sure, I thought I wanted to give a speech or something…"
Marrybell searched the depths of her mind, but all she recouped were untouched cue cards. Maybe Lelouch did have a point against her on pre-written scripts, maybe she wasn't as smooth as she liked to believe. "Let me start with this, see where we go." The melancholic commander wriggled her bottom, trying to place her body in a more comfortable position before she started her improvised oration.
"For phase one of the operation, we did great. Really, we did. We achieved all mission parameters, neutralized all hostile threats and- hmm… maintained a reasonable casualty rate." A more solemn atmosphere dawned on the party at her mention of the last bit, it was an intentional downer, but a subject she must discuss.
"We couldn't secure the HVT, and it's probably my fault, honestly. Call it a lapse in judgment, but I let him get away and that resulted in us… losing some folks." The last part of her confession came out only as a whimper. Against her rational coherence, Marrybell blamed herself for the KIAs, despite knowing it was impossible to undertake an operation like hers without losing someone.
"However, this's what I expect you to give for my dream… I am selfish, aren't I? And I won't even apologize. I expect everyone here to sacrifice themselves for this mission if it comes down to it. I know that all of you can, otherwise you won't be here, right?" Marrybell profoundly smiled at the many genuinely determined faces below her, herself probably mirroring their goodwill in her enchanted expression.
"Maybe those who left are actually the smart guys, and what we have here is a bunch of idiots." Humoured by her satirical provocation, the Glinda Knights laughed. "But all you stooges are my idiots… and I really just…" Somewhere amid her pep talk, she misplaced her charismatic charm and replaced it with a runny nose and puffy eyes. "God… I just… I love you girls so much…!"
As the tears dripped down her pink cheeks over her smudged makeup, Marrybell buried her face into the curves of her guitar to hide it from view. "If- if just one-! Just one person…! Asks me to abort this operation… I will! I will! I promise! We can all just run away… and-! And just go somewhere else… away from all of this!"
Quickly, with the gentlest touch, Sokkia pulled her crying princess into a tight cuddle, letting Marrybell bawl all her regret and fear into her bosom. In the crowd, many pairs of eyes were glistening the reflection of tragic tears under the flashing disco ball. Dwelling in the mournful tranquillity of sentimentality, the moment was put on pause waiting for someone, anyone to voice their objection for travelling the daunting path.
However, nobody did, and Marrybell knew, nobody will.
"I'm sorry… everyone, I'm so sorry." Slowly, Marrybell regained her composure. Shaking off the concerned look from her CDO, she steadied herself to sit properly on the stage. "I am a weak woman, the worst. I can't even focus on the journey ahead of me without wavering. I can't bear to look at all of you in the eyes when I'm asking you to die for me."
Nevertheless, it was Marrybell's obligation to do so regardless of the pain it struck upon her. To atone for her past sins and pave the road to a bright future free from suffering like what she went through.
"We're all with you, Marry. Our destiny is tied. Where you go, we go. This is our fate in the stars, no one here will lead you astray." Sokkia kindly consoled her, a good friend in her time of need.
The audience too shouted their words of encouragement, forgiveness and reassurance. All too eager to jump to their demise for the vision of one misfortunate princess with a noble goal.
All of them were her pilots, her crew. Marrybell used to think of herself as their saviour when she recruited them. For some, she believed her offer was a promotion over being just a face in a sea of anonymous mediocrity serving the crown, to become a soldier a cut above the rest. For others, she was offering them a path towards greatness where none existed, giving them an alternative from the prejudicial system that Britannia levied for its troops.
Maybe… it's the other way around. Perhaps that was also true, her knights always acquitted themselves as her diligent soldiers come hell or high water. Never once had they failed to complete a task she instructed or refuse a command she gave. Oftentimes it was their off-hour frolics or playful banter that restored her merriment when she found herself in a slump.
The saving wasn't nearly as one-sided as the old Marrybell envisioned. She could only be standing at the peak where she was now thanks to her devoted followers propping her up. And they weren't the type to let her fall so close to the sun.
I am truly blessed… Marrybell eked out a warm smile through her plops of tears, a newfound sense of gratitude for her comrades and commitment to her belief reignited the spark of ambition in her soul.
This is my answer, Lelouch. My will is no less than yours.
"Man… all of you are the biggest dummies out there… only idiots throw their lives away for a dream, after all." The beloved commander of the Glinda Knights wiped away the colourful smears on her cheeks, unabashedly presenting her new unkempt appearance for all to see and chaff.
"That makes you one of us, don't it?" Sokkia glowingly commented, lending the princess a hand to get back on her feet.
"…I'm more thinking along the lines that… opposites attract." Marrybell lifted her head, along with her spirit and her guitar.
Where her fingers found the strings once more, that was when the music and enthusiasm returned to the masses, starting with a rap.
"-I'm M.C. Kat on the rap so mic it- here's a little story and you're sure to like it-" If there were some in the audience who thought Marrybell's talent with music was only limited to the chorus, they were surely blown away before the tune even arrived.
"~Baby~ seems we never~ ever agree…! You like the movies, and I~ like~ TV~!" The encore to the celebratory concert had just begun, and the end was nowhere near in sight.
"…Paula Abdul squadron when?" Sokkia wittily remarked, before shaking it to the beat as Marrybell delivered the performance of a lifetime.
The final night of the Glinda Knights' arduous voyage was still young and full of energy, much like the crew of aces preparing for the storm come morning.
Oldrin Zevon, Glinda Knights Vice-Commander
Aerial Battleship Grandberry, over Britannia's west coast
September eighteen, 2018, the day
Oldrin repeated the briefing in the back of her mind for the fifth time in about just as many minutes. Fortunately, there was plenty of room in the hangar bay for her to be so distracted as she maintained her service rifle by a spare workbench. Her place in the third phase of the operation was as clear as the reflex optic she peeked through attached to her gun. Wherever Marrybell points at, she goes. Whomever Marrybell sneers at, she kills.
For Marry… for Marry, huh? She was her princess, her liege, her ex-best friend. Ex-best friend and lover? Still my lover…?
When Marrybell spilled her guts last night on stage and begged for someone sensible to put a stop to her madness, no one was more compelled to voice their utter dismay at the whole fiasco than Oldrin. It took every fibre of her self-resistant to hold her tongue in place as she begrudgingly let the opportunity to turn their ship around slip away.
Despite how much her soul yearned to accept her offer, Oldrin wasn't a child who couldn't read the subtlety in Marrybell's plea. The princess too understood the futility of wishing for the easy way out when they were so deep down the rabbit hole. Their future was already locked in place, the one-way street was disappearing behind them with every step they took.
Nonetheless, Oldrin couldn't forsake the hope that lingered somewhere within her she couldn't reach. Marrybell still hasn't given her a proper answer to the question she begged her to consider, she still hasn't decided if she wanted to celebrate her next birthday.
But it isn't a 'no'. And that contrived logic gave Oldrin the verve she needed to push forward, to secure the throne for her lord and afford her all the time in the world to hesitate.
The sound of her G36's bolt snapping forward woke Oldrin from her trance in the past. Evaluating the modular assault rifle now fully assembled and polished in her hands, she strapped the fully-automatic chambered in 5.56 back to her single point sling. The gun's suppressor clanked against her left arm. The quiet echo of metal bumping together briefly resonated.
"-Keeping your tools topped up, Madrid?" A sudden voice almost spooked the XO from behind, the name she was labelled by was a title that was supposed to be abandoned.
"Don't call me that, Aerosmith." Oldrin kept a steady clench on her weapon's grip, keeping her finger clear of the trigger, for the time being.
"Should've been smarter when picking sides, that's all I'm saying." The captain of Aerosmith squadron teased with a juvenile smirk. Reminding Oldrin of a complex period in her history when she briefly flew against the Viceroy of Area Twenty-four.
The Star of Madrid… what good is a dream if you can't live to fulfill it. And that was what she chose, living under Marrybell's thumb as opposed to having it squash her. To her own defense, the ideology her ragtag band of resistance passed on to her still flickered in her heart, only it was slowly being smothered by her greedy desire and selfishness.
"Do you really want to start some shit, 1-1?" Oldrin fired back. There was plain tension building in the air, tension that couldn't be dissolved or compressed.
"Hey, don't blame me for the revolutionists who poisoned your brainwashed mind." Oldrin stared down her fiery opponent in a chilling glare, neither of whom gave an inch in their hushed confrontation.
That lasted until Oldrin couldn't hold her muted giggle at bay and unleashed a flimsy ripple of chortles. "Jesus… that's so freaking bad… it's literally the opposite of the song!"
"~In the fields the bodies burning…! As the war-machine keeps turning~!" Aerosmith finally broke her serious façade as well and joined Oldrin in a short burst of laughter.
It seems everyone wants a taste of mimicking Marrybell these days.
"We're all war pigs on this glorious day, eh?"
"-What that a fucking JOJOOOOOOOO RefEreNcE?" From the sidelines, Sokkia jumped in out of nowhere and completely ruined the conversation with one line.
"Oh-my-god, you're an actual fucktard, Crasher. Nobody knows what the fuck that means!" Aerosmith blew up in Sokkia's face just before Oldrin was about to do the same.
"Word."
"C'mon, it's still funny though!"
"You're literally the only one who thinks it's funny. Knock it off already." In a more mature tone, Oldrin reprimanded her team's CDO.
For her trouble, Sokkia apologized in a wacky simper and a cute wink. Herself appeared all too eager to deploy judging by the bulletproof vest worn over her flight suit and a similar rifle dangling behind her back.
"Anyway, I'mma go finish my prep, anymore of your nonsense and I'll nosedive my craft straight down to the sea." Snickering away her usual annoyance at Sokkia, Aerosmith playfully smacked her in the centre of her plate carrier.
"Yee, see you in the sky, 1-1."
"And you too, Ozzy. Let me get to you none, yeah?" The chirpy pilot delivered Oldrin a more respectful farewell by patting her shoulder.
"Don't wank yourself too hard."
"Righto, because I can rely on you to give me the suck." Aerosmith spread a wide grin one last time as she ribbed on the Glinda Knights' ace, Oldrin's mischievous shove became her cue to stick her nose back to her own business. "And your pal Lyre still owes me for covering his tab last week! I'll hold your whole squad responsible if I don't get my coins!"
Oldrin waved away the captain of the squadron in her knight order with the second-highest proficiency rating, watching Aerosmith 1-1 until her shadow merged into the background of the Grandberry's hangar.
"She's a good kid, that Aerosmith. She wasn't always like this, when did she get so roguish?"
"…What a boomer thing to say." Oldrin shot her green-haired friend a look that spoke her infinite deposit of disappointment in no uncertain term. It must have taken all of Sokkia's self-restraint to disengage instead of going on another insane tirade about how she was relevant.
The CDO waited for the jolly moment to pass before her simper gradually nullified to a slight frown. "She looked up to you, you know? Many of us did."
"Before I…?"
"Yeah, before you left us and-" Sokkia appeared to have more to say, but the remorseful lour Oldrin couldn't contain must have tied her tongue. "Still, everybody makes mistakes, and everyone here has the memory of a goldfish."
"I don't… I don't regret what I did. Marrybell- she… what she did isn't just. Oppressing all those people…" Oldrin pitched her sullen glance downwards, ignoring the sympathetic look Sokkia was shooting her. The frail defense she constructed around her sense of justice could never withstand a blow from reality, and she understood that clearer than anyone.
"But would you do it again?"
That question struck a chord somewhere within Oldrin, a line of thought she never experimented with. Failing to provide a swift reply, she couldn't help it as her expression mingled into a blend of every type of sorrow.
"I… I dunno, I really don't." Eventually, the caramel-haired knight managed to concoct a non-answer that probably wouldn't appease the densest of babies.
"Then don't worry so much over it."
Was it that simple? Could her grief be forgotten just like that?
"Yeah… maybe, maybe." It was worth a try. "Let's finish this fight at hand."
"There she is." In the very depth of her heart, Oldrin truly hoped Sokkia was on the mark with her statement, for hers and Marrybell's sake.
In a timely manner, one of the head mechanics marched towards the duo with a tablet tucked under her arm just when Oldrin sought a distraction. "-Sabbath squadron, here's your updated mission parameter, review it on your way down. The VTOL is ready. RV with our escort on the ground. Good luck to you." After passing off the touchscreen, the technician wandered off elsewhere in a flash.
"We have green light." Sokkia stated the obvious while Oldrin studied the information the mechanic provided her.
Sabbath 2-1… Her usual callsign, her familiarized squad. It was the symbol of the wings she pridefully flew by when her talents behind the sticks were needed once more. A squadron named after Black Sabbath and herself was its lead vocalist, the connection was obvious, if not a bit juvenile.
Black Sabbath… you trying to say anything, Marry? Oldrin could never see through Marrybell and her shrewd sense of humour, and the royalty had always kept that affiliation as their status quo.
"Hey, what's gotten your interest? Any deviations from the briefing?" Sokkia slashed away Oldrin's brooding, mistaking her musing for intrigue at the information presented by the tablet.
"No, it's just…" But that wasn't to say there was nothing out of line. "I see one alteration."
"Which is?" In the distance, quickened footsteps rapidly neared.
"-Ma'am! Marika Soresi reporting for duty!" The recurring member of the Glinda Knights proudly stood before her new commander. Oldrin was eased into the unanticipated aid's arrival by the tablet's heads-up, Sokkia just gawked at the newcomer,
"And other than warming my bed, what duty are you reporting in for, cutie?" As expected of the 'Crasher', the first thing off her tongue coming out of her stupor was sexual harassment. Marika blushed a deep crimson, honestly surprising the XO that she wasn't used to it yet.
"You know she's gonna marry Leon."
"And I wanna CUCK him!" Whatever strange rivalry Sokkia had with the captain of their cavalry division, that was up to them to work out.
"Yeah, good luck with that, faglord." Oldrin dismissed her eccentric buddy, preferring to speak with the more sensible young girl instead. "-Ignore this fool, Soresi. But are you really transferring to our unit?"
"Yes, ma'am. I have my papers right here." Marika clicked a few times on her smartphone, and Oldrin's beeped not a dozen seconds later.
Reading over the transcript of Marika's orders, the only thing that jumped out at Oldrin was the issuer of her new instructions. It came down from Marrybell herself, but she made it clear there was room open for repeal if the XO wanted to reject the candidate.
"You do understand we're going room-clearing down there, right?" Sokkia refreshed Marika's memory in the case she thought their plan included window-shopping. "We're acting as foot-mobiles, you'll be on the frontlines."
Marika slightly swallowed a gulp of air stuck in her throat, but she kept her stance firm and unwavering. "Yes, ma'am. I passed my infantry training."
"Let's see it. Weapon at the ready." Oldrin issued a simple command that was received and executed by Marika. She swiftly adjusted the sling over her shoulder and brought her submachine gun to the forefront of her figure. One hand holding tightly onto the foregrip and the other around the pistol grip, good trigger discipline was demonstrated in the finger that stayed cleanly out of the trigger guard.
"Check safety." Marika tilted her MPX a little to the left until the fire selector was plainly visible, her movement was simplistic and professional, not too shabby even by Oldrin's standards.
"Aim forward." The suppressed muzzle was steadily pointed somewhere deserted without a soul in sight.
"Fire." The trigger clicked, but obviously, no round was discharged.
"Tac-reload." After pressing the mag release, the old magazine was stashed on her vest while a new one replaced it.
"Speed-reload." Faster than her last, Marika let the used magazine hit the floor as she inserted the new mag before the ejected box impacted the deck.
"At ease." Overall, Leon's fiancée was a skilled shooter from what little Oldrin observed. Her stance with her firearm was proper and her discipline was on point. Her limbs were firm where they needed to be and relaxed where they needed to be, there was no reason for her superior to refuse the assistance of this operative from a purely tactical standpoint.
"-Hey, I just realized, why aren't you flying with your boyfriend?" Sokkia spoke the first thing on her mind once Marika was finished reviewing her basic training.
"I… I was shot down during the second battle over Tokyo…" Meek embarrassment hindered the girl from projecting her voice any louder than a whisper.
"Lmao, what a shitter."
"-By the Red Comet."
Sokkia momentarily paused her sarcastic taunt, "Lmao, still a shitter, but it's an excuse." Her sardonic jibbing could never keep itself away for too long. "Anyway, go grab yourself a new frame, not like we're short on those around here. I'm way more scared of a bad shooter than a bad pilot."
That was a fair argument Sokkia offered both against Marika's involvement and for showing where she stood in the decision. "It's actually why I'm on your team. I submitted a secondary objective, and Sabbath is the closest unit available to carry it out, therefore Her Highness allowed my attachment to your unit."
Inquisitive of what Marika revealed, Oldrin skimmed through the rest of her updated order in detail. Something indeed popped out as a freshly appended mission, one that surely earned its inventor a heap of praise for its design. "That's… that's pretty smart. -Sokkia, check it."
When the concerned vice-commander passed her tablet to her friend, her nutcase of a wingman was also impressed. "Damn, girl. That's galaxy-brained. It's well thought out."
"Thank you, ma'am!" Marika readily saluted her seniors for their admiration, making it even more difficult to turn her down.
"It shouldn't be a hassle to make that detour. But is this the only reason you want in? Anyone here can fly." Oldrin found herself in a rather awkward spot since she definitely wasn't too exultant about sending a girl so young onto the battlefield where bodies lay piled.
"I'll still be yours, ma'am. I'm a part of your team. on the ground or in the air."
"It doesn't have to be you, do you understand?"
"It's everything I can do for you guys… for us. Even though I'm not a full-fledged Glinda Knight, everyone's been treating me so kindly. Leon and I can't just hide ourselves away when the rest of you are putting your lives at risk." The earnest gratitude in Marika's shining irises was blindingly angelic, almost burning away the encumbrance of what they were about to commit.
"And… it's the closest I'll get to spitting in Stadtfeld's face or on her grave." For the orphaned girl robbed of her brother and best friend by the talons of the Black Knight's ace, that was warranted revenge.
A gentle tug of her sleeve notified Oldrin of Sokkia's intention to speak in private, something she agreed wholeheartedly. After indicating her request for confidentiality, she stepped away from Marika with the usually hyperactive CDO who now wore a muted frown.
"I'm against this, just so you know." Uncaring about courtesy, Sokkia straight up stated her criticism. "This is literally a fucking death flag staring us in the face. This is her last operation before an honourable discharge and marriage, you think about that for a sec."
Of course, Oldrin considered the truth of the matter, how could she forget the invitation to their wedding sitting in her locker. "She knows what she's betting."
"But she's just a kid! How can we do that to a child?"
"Not everyone can afford to grow up, sometimes adulthood just comes at you." Oldrin would know, she was there when an immature princess was thrust into the headlamp, into a bloodbath of conspiracy and betrayal. Same for herself when the duty of a protector called upon her. She learned how to wield a sword before she learned how to wield lipstick.
"It doesn't have to! Not at her!"
"Look at her, she's ready for this. We don't decide who's old enough to bleed." Not too far away from the two officers, Marika stood at attention. Her back straightened and her limbs tense, the stature of a soldier and the expression of an adult.
Sokkia couldn't bring herself to meet Marika's assiduous gaze, her head tilted downwards in shame of being a part of the group that introduced teenage girls to the theatre of war.
"We were once like her, quivering in our boots at the sound of cannons. This is why we're fighting against this tired system, so that girls like her, like us, won't ever know the smell of gunpowder." Even if the method to achieve that end wasn't one Oldrin agreed with, she still believed in the change Marrybell strived to bring.
When the quiet XO kept her silence, Oldrin invited Marika to hear her verdict. "Dame Soresi, are you going out there to die?"
"No, ma'am!"
"Are you going out there to kill?" That was a trickier dilemma than before.
Marika hesitated a little, unsure if she believed the answer on the edge of her lips. "I'll be going out there to make a difference."
"…You're ready. Just act like it once we're in the mud. Callsign is Sabbath 2-4, acknowledge and read back."
"Yes, ma'am! Sabbath 2-4 ready to deploy!" Marika replied with a smile, not an elated or a gleeful one, but determined.
Sokkia released a sigh of vacillation before accepting the immoral yet necessary conclusion. She soon replaced her rare scowl with the usual annoyingly cheeky smirk. "I'll keep you safe in the field, kiddo. You have my word. Just do me a favour and peg your boyfriend in the ass once we're done."
Loss for a response, Marika flushed her cheeks in a shade of red as Oldrin smacked her friend over the head. It seemed everything was back the way they were meant to be, twisted and wicked though it may be.
In the time it took for the trio to devise a ruling, the massive gateway separating the hangar and the outside sky had slid open in preparation for the first wave of Marrybell's soldiers to descend upon the capital. Oldrin peered out towards the vast chasmal blue in the distance divided by the landscape of Britannia's west coast. A splendid sight like no other was before the steadfast Devicer, the magnificent state of California and the marvellous architecture of Pendragon were in plain view before the Glinda Knights' ace.
It's beautiful… Oldrin promised herself she'll engrave this vista into her memory before razing the symbol of a decaying monarchy to the ground. And we'll build an even grander throne for Marry.
"You wanna offer a word to this lovely capital? I mean, it is our homeland we're waging war against." Sokkia nudged her partner in crime as their group boarded the VTOL.
Oldrin thought of what she could say to her birthplace, and something did come to mind. "~California~ rest in peace~! Simul~ta~ne~o~us release~! California~ show your teeth~! She's my priestess- I'm your prieee~st~! Yeeee~ah~ yeeee~ah!"
"Man, how much does it hurt you that 'Red Hot Chili Peppers squadron' doesn't roll off the tongue?"
— —
Author's note
Longer chapter, fewer words from me.
What? Green Days wouldn't exist in CG canon? Well, don't worry about it.
What? The Incredibles wouldn't exist in CG canon? Well, don- hey! You can't prove that.
Why is Pendragon in CA? Just to make my reference work, but also you see in canon it's a desert city, so it works out.
Finally we're doing the thing where the two opposite sides come together and they fight, that conflict thing.
Summer is kill, no more consistent uploads, big oof. School is bad, but what can do?
Like always thanks for checking me out and click the nice buttons if you want. Excuse any mistakes in spelling or grammar and let me know so they can be fixed.
