Yoink
Kallen Stadtfeld, Knight of Ten
Airspace over Pendragon
Ten minutes after taking off
"—Reaper 3-0 Actual, Sociopath. Scanners are showing seven Bandits approaching on your ten, Glinda Vincents."
"—Sociopath, I got eyes on targets. Requesting immediate fire mission by my sector, munition is airburst-flak. Gird to mark at Hotel-Sierra-Six-Six-One-Seven-Two-Eight, altitude five thousand, how copy?"
"—3-0, that marker is danger close."
"—Send it now. I'll be gone."
"—Copy, 3-0. Avalon is firing for effect, danger close."
Beyond the horizon, the Avalon commenced a bombardment upon Suzaku's location. Hundreds of tiny dots in the distance increasingly grew to the size of anti-air shells as they soared across the sky, eventually erupting into thousands of fragments and debris, blanketing the azure backdrop of the battlefield in a thick cloud of dark smoke.
"Hold on tight, this one is a woozy." From the driver seat, Suzaku issued a warning as he dived and weaved the Lancelot through waves of explosions and shrapnel, dodging the friendly salvo along with countless shots from the enemy Knightmares hot in pursuit.
Kallen had experienced a fair share of ups and downs during her eighteen-plus years on this earth, plenty of bad days that seemed at the time to be her worst. However, the past had nothing on the bottomless ditch that was her current dwelling. Her mood had plummeted to an abhorrent depth so low it made the Mariana Trench look like a puddle on the sidewalk.
I fucking swear to God if I die here with this guy…!
In the backseat of Suzaku's KMF, she viciously hated not being in control of her own life, especially in the middle of a burning warzone where bullets and more solely flew in the direction of their Knightmare.
Against all odds, Suzaku punched through the capital's defenses all by his lonesome. Jeremiah, Cornelia and Guilford had to be left beneath the tallest skyscrapers where there existed shelter from the looming threat of annihilation by fire. And that wasn't meant to be detrimental against their title as aces. Not even the Knight of Zero was absolutely confident he could survive the blazing hell ahead of them.
Still, somebody had to turn the tide of battle in their favour, and the rest were tasked with taking care of Anya's recovery.
"—3-0, Excalibur is charging up. Displaying its projected targeting coordinates."
"Let me guess, it's shooting at us." Deliberately impassive, Kallen expressed her estimation. She thought pretending to be relaxed could balance out her heartbeat, it did no such thing.
"Think I can dodge it?"
"Please do!"
From the spare glances Kallen could catch of Suzaku's screens, the Glinda Knights chasing them from behind had scattered away, likely not wanting to be caught by the gigantic laser beam of death. Despite that, the pressure remained at an all-time high even with the disperse of their pursuers.
Excalibur fired its laser of concentrated energy, instantly evaporating the afterimage of the Lancelot as it pulled off acrobatic maneuvers only a ninth-generation Knightmare could achieve. Kallen felt the multiplied Gs slamming into her with every drastic spurt of the Albion's movement.
But thanks to the Lancelot's pinnacle engineering and Suzaku's unrivalled piloting, both of them survived the second encounter against Pendragon's sword.
"Any normal person would've thrown up in your backseat, pal!" Realizing she was still alive, Kallen released the wind she held in and finally managed to calm her nerves.
"So you're the only one fit to be my WSO?" That was a joke deserving of a smack to the back of the head. "Ow-! That wasn't very mature of you."
"Focus!"
Kallen's thin smile wasn't exposed under her bandages, but she was certain it was there. Sure, it vanished all too soon when they barely escaped the third shot from Excalibur by the skin of their teeth, but in-between the streaks they attained tremendous progress towards reaching Pendragon's heart.
"Alright, we're in that cannon's blind spot. It's the final stretch!" Kallen cheered on her fellow knight, encouraging him to push the throttle to its fullest for a bit longer.
They were so close to the Imperial palace that the building itself stood in the way of the laser. Albeit a single massive anti-air cannon was replaced by dozens of smaller anti-air missile tubes and CIWS, but those were a piece of cake compared to the terrible ray of death.
"—Reaper 3-0! Sociopath to 3-0! Be advi— reading a—" When Cecile spoke over their radio again, her words became jumbled static, crackling and unclear. "—compromised— disenga—"
"—Sociopath, negative copy. Resay your last." Suzaku's request for a repeat was swallowed by the blank white noises of a dysfunctional radio channel. He fiddled and tuned the dials on his controls to no avail.
"This must be why Anya's call didn't connect." Kallen's statement was rather obvious in hindsight, but it did affirm Suzaku's assumption.
"Pendragon has sufficient anti-ECM equipment. The Glinda Knights either have the best jamming tech in the world or they already took our anti-ECM stations offline." The Japanese Devicer's analysis was comprehensive, giving them another reason to regain air superiority over the capital.
Nonetheless, a jammed radio didn't amount to all that much in the grand scheme of things, it certainly didn't alter Kallen's objective of getting her Guren back and joining the rest of her team in the sky. "We're almost there, c'mon!"
"…Really wish you didn't say that, Kallen." In a rare instance, Suzaku actually turned around and looked her face to face. The almost sympathetic glint in his eyes definitely wasn't the bringer of fair news.
Suzaku swayed his head for Kallen to get a clear view through the Lancelot's eyes. What she saw on the forward-side screen instantly set the temperature of her blood to a boiling point.
"But- but that's… that's mine! They can't- they can't just…! That's MINE! MINE!"
Ahead of the Lancelot, a sprawling column of smoke was emerging from a cavernous hole in the roof of the Imperial Palace, right over where the developmental hangar should be. Tracing the amorphous contrail through the circles it drew in the sky, Kallen's sight eventually landed on a very recognizable Knightmare floating not too far before them.
The Guren S.E.I.T.E.N. Eight Elements embellished the imposing castle in the background with the brilliant ring of its illustrious wings. Its devastating claws expanded to harness the energy from its Yggdrasil Drive into a crimson disk of radiation. In its offhand was the MVS dagger surging in vehement intensity, flaming and deadly.
For Kallen, this was the first time she ever saw her Knightmare from an opposing perspective. The reverent and respect she should hold for her priced steed was somewhat tarnished by the thought of whoever was behind the sticks and their choice of allies flanking both sides of her Guren.
Besieged on all sides by foes under the Glinda Knights' flag and having their own guns turned on them, Kallen's terrible day was about to get worse.
"Please don't scream—"
"-Those goddamn THIEVES! How dare they cheat me like this!?" Suzaku's request was well-warranted, just not possible for the Knight of Ten to fulfill. "That cunt…! That filthy- dirty bitch! I'll dice her fucking into gibs- Marrybell!"
And Kallen knew, she just knew the traitorous princess was sitting somewhere right now with the biggest smirk across her punchable face.
Marrybell mel Britannia, the Witch of Britannia
Imperial Capital Pendragon, Emperor's private quarters
"-~Just ring- three-six-two-four-three-six, hey~! I lead a life of crime~!" When it was time for the chorus, Marrybell couldn't help but feel giddy on the inside. "~Dirty deeds! Done dirt cheap~! Dirty deeds~ done dirt cheap~! Dirty deeds~ done dirt cheap~! Dirty deeds~ and they're done dirt cheap~ dirty deeds~ and they're done dirt cheap~!"
Playing along happily as she sang, Marrybell held her precious guitar in reserve, using her injured left hand to strum and pluck at the strings while her dominant hand delicately held down the strings in its precise patterns over the fretboard for every chord she sounded.
"~Concrete shoes… cyanide… TNT! ~Done dirt cheap! ~Neckties… contracts… high VOLTAGE! ~Done dirt cheap!"
Her wound still itched and stung every time the vibration in the strings bounced back against her fingers. But lost in a world of music, Marrybell could hardly notice the pain.
"~Dirty deeds… dirty deeds…! Dirty deeds! ~Done dirt CHEAP!"
Calming down from the crescendo of her electrifying performance, the musician finally forged herself a fountain of elation to bask in. Everything was turning up Marrybell's, so smoothly that she even afforded to send a team to fetch her guitar from the Grandberry without running the risk of casualty.
Like before, Orpheus dutifully clapped and Marrybell gracefully accepted. Except this time chatter began to trickle in over the radio from many of her units also listening in during the down-time.
"What's up next?" Marrybell kindly questioned, letting her AWACS, and thereby her girls pick a song to perform.
"They say they want a- err… what's a ska-da… badababida- what?" Genuine confusion was Orpheus' mood of the hour. "—Errm, Witchcraft going out to all AWACS, requesting a briefing on this… this song you're asking for."
While her talented shape-shifter was still baffled over the song name, Marrybell was already jollily laughing at his expense.
"The best I can do is a- ~Ska-badabadabadoo-" That probably wasn't the right amount of 'bap's or 'bop's, but someone had to be really petty to complain. "~Doobeidoo… ~I'm the scatman~!"
Along with the instrumental music she remembered by heart, Marrybell's kicked off her morale-boosting rap session with a banger. "~I'm the Scatman~!"
Her faithful and capable Glinda Knights had secured a majority of the palace, eliminating threats and pacifying the crowd wherever they went while keeping everything hushed and quiet. By the time things got loud, they commandeered all of Pendragon's anti-air warfare facilities, the most impressive one being Excalibur itself, all under three hours of mission time. Her troop's extraordinary feat took Marrybell on an ego trip she loved, knowing they were a cut above the rest.
Marrybell's self-flattery wasn't meant to discredit Lelouch's Royal Guards who fought valiantly in and out of the capital. The ones within their AO put up a firm defense across the many corridors and rooms, but they simply weren't good enough.
The only sector left that was still outside of her grasp was the primary command centre at the palace's heart, where the remaining soldiers still loyal to her brother fought to defend every inch of its ground. Marrybell had left it alone, for now. Its heavy fortifications proved to be too much even for her elite knights. Although she hardly sweated over the stalemate, they were practically already defeated without a method of breaking through her jamming.
As for the outside, the Britannian military had conjured up four wings in the air and three battalions on the ground ready to retake the capital, but a single shot from Excalibur had kept most of the Knightmares away from shuffling into its radius. The army seemed mostly preoccupied with the evacuation of the civilians around the capital, as proven by the many hashtags trending on Twitter about an abrupt war blowing up at home.
All that left was the Knight of Zero and his brave band of aces still unrelenting on their attack, sending them to clash against Marrybell's Nirvana squadron on the outer layer of her defense line. If the ninth-generation fighter still proved to be too gritty for thirty Knightmares, then Aerosmith was also in the air together with Marika's nasty surprise.
With Stadtfeld dead or missing, it left her pristine KMF free for the taking. Being one of the only two ninth-generation fighters in the entire world, it would provide a massive boost to the Glinda Knights' arsenal and their chance to triumph. That was why Marrybell approved of Marika's transfer to join the first wave of infiltrators. Their stealthy subterfuge was the perfect opportunity to secure the Knightmare, and they pulled off the heist flawlessly before any guards could hinder them.
None of this was counting her European fleet on its way to Pendragon, another powerful piece of hers on the board. Marrybell almost thought it was too easy to be real, but she understood it was her months and years of preparation paying off.
Can't touch me up here now, can you, Lelouch? The ghost of the unaccounted Emperor still haunted her even at this very waking moment, but Marrybell was determined to exorcise that spirit with every conquest. And judging by her victories so far, it wouldn't be long before Lelouch was just a distant memory.
At the thought of her dearest sibling, Marrybell reminded herself she still had a big family to see to.
"~I'm the Scatman~! …I'm the Scatman~ …Scatman…~" Right after a couple more songs.
Kururugi Suzaku, Knight of Zero
Airspace over Pendragon
"Suzaku… I'm sor- I don't- I'm sorry about earlier…"
"Euphie… it's alright. You're still you, right?"
"Why… why am I like this, Suzaku… I'm such a freak…!"
"That's not true. It's not true and you know it, Euphie."
"I… I just… promise me you'll come back to me, Suzaku. Stay alive, come back and help me. I need you… I love you."
"Of course. I haven't died yet, have I?"
— —
Doo… doo… doo… doo… stayin' alive… stayin' alive… Unsurprisingly, a catchy tune was the second thing to surface in his mind when he retold himself the importance of keeping afloat amid a downpour of uranium and plasma.
Suzaku also thought about humming the song aloud, but then decided against it seeing how absolutely livid Kallen was by the thievery of her Knightmare. Since the picture of Marrybell painted in his head by Euphemia strongly associated her with music, it wasn't the brightest idea to mention anything rhythmic when the Knight of Ten finally took a break from screeching curses within his earshot.
However, just the notion of life's substance was enough to fuel his inner fortitude, the strength he needed to survive another fight and return to the person that needed him.
"—Caution. Missile. Caution. Missile." The computer tooted its alert repetitively, the constant shifting scenery of war flashed on his display. All of those were aspects of a mission Suzaku had grown to accommodate for.
The Lancelot Albion swerved brilliantly across the deep blue, dancing on the thin tightrope between life and death. Volleys from every angle aimed at him blew over by margins wild or narrow, never once touching the spotless tungsten armour beneath the Blaze Luminous. Suzaku was nigh untouchable behind the sticks, that was where he belonged.
Unfortunately, the same could be said for his enemies.
"—In gun range." Keeping to the system's advice, the Lancelot's V.A.R.I.S. locked onto a Glinda Vincent that drifted too close to the White Reaper. Three rapid pulls of the trigger hurled three green spheres of repulsion at the pregnable Knightmare dashing away.
The first two balls missed their marks purposefully, strategically steering his prey straight into the last shot. On the verge of what should have been a destroyed target, Suzaku wordlessly pursed his lips shut when he saw a sudden bolt of red blitz into the chaos where the V.A.R.I.S round exploded.
…Not easy. The expropriated Guren fired its Radiant Surger in front of the Glinda Vincent, blocking a fatal shot for its teammate. Following up the defensive maneuver with radiating violence, the crimson craft adjusted its extended claw to slam into the Lancelot as the main body dashed in for close quarters.
Lightning-fast reaction protected Suzaku and his co-pilot from getting fried alive when he blocked the Surger with his MVS in the offhand. The two Knightmares locked talon against blade for what felt like an eternity with neither side winning themselves the advantage. Ultimately, the Guren broke away from the exchange, its Devicer likely realizing they couldn't capitalize on the offense.
Passive isn't the Guren's forte, but that pilot is making it work. For their effort, Suzaku proposed an implicit applause, ignoring the more colourful words Kallen had to say.
"Go get him! Kill him! Kill him! KILLLL HIM! Put your guns on him and KILL HIM! C'mon he's out in front! Shoot him! SHOOOOT HIM!" Suzaku's 'not-WSO' screamed in the backseat, obviously seething through the nose. He imagined a witty reply for Kallen, but wasn't feeling the right mood to drop a gag.
The Glinda Knights were playing a phenomenal conservative game against the Round, making Suzaku really focus on every kill he scored as they encircled him on all sides. Worst of all, he wasn't making that significant a dent in their numbers, the Knightmares he damaged but didn't destroy simply retreated and let another pilot fill its role.
"—Energy reserve: sixty-three percent." The Lancelot appraised Suzaku, leading him to realize this was a battle of attrition, and his one-man army had nobody to swap out for.
"Kallen, this can't continue." Suzaku addressed his peer, a different idea popped into his head.
"C'mon man! The bitch in my Guren isn't even putting in the work!"
"So it's cool to blow it up?" The Knight of Ten piped down after hearing that. The demand to repossess Kallen's treasured KMF wasn't doing any favours for their difficult situation.
"-Uggh! Fine! Talk to me."
"I can't stay here forever. I'm going to throw you to the palace and I'll withdraw."
"Wait- wait, wait. Throw? Like- throw? Like throwing a ball- that throw?" That was roughly the reaction he expected.
"My aim is good, trust me."
"Do not!"
"But you want to get your feet wet, right? I can't exactly parallel park."
"Okay, but…! But- dude!"
"You have a parachute. You'll be fine." Suzaku wasn't putting all his effort into inducing Kallen to his proposal, most of his dedication had to be spent on protecting the two of them from a literal roasting.
"Goddamn it. But what am I gonna do on the ground?" The original plan of re-arming the loyalist troops with a ninth-generation Knightmare was somewhat off the table.
"You have to find Lelouch, okay? In theory, it should only be the two of us plus its staff and security team who knows about Excalibur. The leak is most likely on their end, but if it's not…" Just the notion of Lelouch being compromised was a thought Suzaku immediately evicted.
"It is not him. We know that. I'll find him and he'll know what to do, for sure." Kallen's vote of confidence was reassuring, Suzaku nodded along to her conviction in the monarch.
"There's a lot to do on the ground. The jamming, Excalibur and the other air defenses, all need to go. Getting Monica's F.L.E.I.J.A case back is also a good idea. I don't know what it's gonna be like down there, you'll have to keep your head on a swivel."
"So like always, got it." Sparing Kallen a momentary glance, she thumped on her chest in an assertive yet feminine manner to certify for Suzaku her competence. Or so he would assume that to be her intention, instead of pounding away the choking hazard in her throat that was the handful of pills she just swallowed without water.
Silently acknowledging his fellow knight's readiness, Suzaku blessed the battlefield with his resolute courage and the Lancelot's peerless valour.
Clamping down on the throttle, the Albion fluttered its majestic energy wings and catapulted itself high above the clouds. At the same time, the Knight of Zero ejected a torrent of chaff and smoke behind his KMF's trail, smothering the cobalt sky in a shroud of grey as he disappeared within the mist.
Betting on the Glinda Knights' reluctance to give chase, Suzaku brought them a dozen seconds to execute an audacious delivery. "Unsealing canopy in five! Get ready!"
"You are sure about this!?"
"There's about a seventy percent chance of success."
"And the other thirty?"
"Not… success."
Quickly freeing herself from the harness, Kallen wasted no time climbing out of the cockpit and over the Lancelot's arm the second Suzaku retracted the compartment. She laid herself flat in its open palm, crossing her limbs over her chest and pressing her feet together to minimize the chances of body parts getting snatched on the Knightmare's exterior.
4.2 knots of wind speed, heading at one-seven-four. Distance needs to be over at least a hundred metres. Projectile mass… gotta be under ninety kilos.
The Knightmare resealed its canopy and struck the firmest stance possible in midair, flapping its wings at a constant tempo to balance itself. The hand carrying Kallen reeled back far, and the free arm stretched out as a visual guide to where Suzaku wanted the fleshy warhead to land.
Careful not to fling too suddenly, The Lancelot gracefully hurled Kallen like the world's most fragile softball. Keeping its fingers clear of the trajectory, the Knightmare made a beautiful throw that drew a perfect parabola across the sky. Suzaku could discern the initial rise of an object in motion and its gradual descent as the natural force of gravity pulled her downwards.
She had her chute on, right? Did she though?
She probably did.
Having done his best given the circumstances, Suzaku jerked the stick backwards and retreated away from the palace just as the smoke was starting to clear up.
Marrybell mel Britannia, the Witch of Britannia
Imperial Capital Pendragon, Saint Darwin Street
"—5-2, 5-2! Lithium here! He's hot on your ass, draw him around that building, we'll hit 'em with one of these."
"—Easy for you to say, 2-1! This motherfucker is like Sonic on cocaine! -Goddamn it! He clipped me! I'm coming around now!"
"—Gotcha, gotcha! -Shit, did he just pass-? Fuck he is fast! Strike missed, no impact! -Nirvana 2-1 to all flyers, fall back, fall back! Bring him in range of the AA guns!"
"—Nirvana 5-2 is hit bad! I'm tagging out, sorry! The rest is up to you guys!"
"—4-4 is also hit, RTB for repair. Valkyrie is right. Get her out here, he's dunking on us without her."
"—AWACS PowerPuff to Nirvana, allied reinforcement inbound to your AO from the east. Linking you with Aerosmith squadron to establish command, updating IFF signature. All units, engage at will, secure air superiority."
"—We won't turn down some help, Aerosmith. No matter how late PowerPuff is about sending it. Transferring on-site authority to you."
"—Aerosmith 1-1 copies all. Three flights are on station, ready to bail you bitches out. -Sabbath 2-4, Nirvana is crying for mommy, show 'em how it's done."
"—All callsigns this net, Sabbath 2-4 is assuming command. Form up on me, Have the solo Bandit locked on at all times. Keep a constant stream of fire on target, don't let him breathe! Also, recheck IFF for Guren S.E.I.T.E.N. tagged as friendly, that means don't spike me you dickweeds!"
Listening to the intense chatter over the Glinda Knights channel, Marrybell easily recognized Marika by her voice alone. A pleasant surprise to see a rare instance of her assertiveness taking to the forefront of her usually soft character.
If only courage is enough to win wars…
In some ways, it was absolutely incredible. The gap between the Knight of Zero in a single ninth-generation KMF versus one and a half squadron of Glinda Knights' best was so blindingly apparent. Even with their numbers and a hijacked Guren, her girls were barely holding on their footing against the white reaper.
Where do Lelouch find these guys… Although Kururugi was always infamous for his insane degree of skills behind the sticks, it was nevertheless awe-inspiring to see him actually on the clock.
"—Hey, Ragdoll, watch it! You're stalling out!"
"—I can see that, 5-2. My engine is losing thrust, need to check my— Ah- Mierda! He's got me spiked! I can't-! I can't shake it! 2-4! Support! Support!"
"—You're good, 6-3! You're safe! Pull back and fall in!"
"—Hoooly shit, good-ass save, Valk. Owe you for that one, muchas gracias!"
"—How is that bastard this fucking good!? Is he even human? He's pulling at least twenty Gs up there!"
"—Guy is a true ace… Demon Lord of the Round Table."
"—C'mon! miss me with that Belkan witchcraft! No man can be invincible in this sky!"
Wait, can they talk about that?
"—Shut up you buffoons! Focus, FOCUS! Keep your beat on him- I swear to God!" Thanks to Marika, that was a crisis averted, in more ways than one.
"—Motherfuck-! He's up, he's climbing up! He just popped chaff and smoke, I lost visual!"
"—Your call, Valk. Our thermal can't cut through chaff. Give chase or no?"
"—2-4 to all callsigns, increase altitude but don't pursue into the smoke, keep yourselves at a distance! He has limited canisters."
"—Bandit reacquired, 3-3 sees him up there. Wait, what did he-? He yeeted something! PowerPuff, forward Aerosmith 3-3's visual to all. The Lancelot just threw a projectile towards Bastion East!"
"—What is that? Better not be a warhead."
"—Is he backing up…? He is, he is! The Lancelot disengaged. He's pulling back!"
"—It's… it's over? We beat him? We lived…?"
"—PowerPuff, we're seeing the high-value Bandit exiting our AO. Please confirm airspace security so I can safely piss my pants."
"—Oh-my-god that was absolute bonkers, shit! What a fucking monster, that Kururugi…"
When the comms started to die down and the excitement over the radio was draining away, Marrybell finally wiped a thin sheet of sweat off her brow after ensuring her escorts weren't looking her away. She couldn't allow anyone to discover her most peculiar hobby of eavesdropping on her pilots and riling herself up with the mood.
They deserved the most fervent of praises, all of them. That was why Marrybell loved them, her knights.
"—All callsigns, PowerPuff to all callsigns. The Lancelot is confirmed to be retreating from your airspace, y'all can breathe again. Tasking Aerosmith Flight 1 and 2 to investigate the unknown projectile, the rest will resupply and rearm in accordance to priority of necessity." An influx of affirmation later, things were cooling back down to room temperature again.
It seemed the audio-only airshow had come to a discourteous conclusion, prompting Marrybell to disconnect from the channel.
At the same time, Marrybell, Orpheus and a fireteam escorting the princess had arrived at the rendezvous point on the war-torn street that used to be her siblings' address. It was here that the battle for Pendragon officially burst onto the scene as the Glinda Knights forsake clandestine subterfuge for firefights under board daylight.
Scattered throughout the half-crumbled buildings and upturned pavement were the victors of the battle. Many teams of gunfighters grouped into their own gathering underneath the legs of dozens of Knightmares. All of them waiting for Marrybell's arrival to begin the next phase. However, in the sea of distinguishable yet unfamiliar faces, the one to immediately jump out at the young princess was the lovable feature of her dearest ace.
"-They're here! It's Witchcraft Actual."
"Yeah, I got eyes on the HVI. Package is intact, Flintstone."
The first wave of soldiers approaching Marrybell and her escorts also passed the confirmation of her safety up the chain. Letting Orpheus handle some of the more mundane facets of a handover, she separated herself from the rest and made way to the heartfelt smile of her cherished Oldrin waiting for her.
"Miss me, my pretty?"
"I never miss." Oldrin said, shaking hands with her liege as her joke landed impeccably. "I heard you play over the comms. Keeping it unprofessional as always, eh?"
"Unprofessionally artistic, you mean." The caramel blonde flashed the slyest of smiles, or as sly as the honest Oldrin could produce.
"~Music- the great communicator. ~Use two sticks to make it in the nature."
"Hey, hey! You can't do that, only I can do that!" One of these days, before her untimely demise, Marrybell is going to take Oldrin to an RHCP concert, she sombrely promised herself.
After another cursory laugh, Oldrin's altering expression plainly told the Viceroy they couldn't fluff around all day.
"Our HVTs, the royalties, they hunkered down in the bunker under the main mansion." On cue, Oldrin pointed at the last building on the end of the road. "We cut their wires to the outside, but the doors are three hundred millimetres of blast-proof titanium."
Walking with her liege, Oldrin excused a path between the troops until she led Marrybell to the demolished mansion. "We detached a Hadron Cannon from a Gareth to melt the door, but it's gonna take a bit longer… unless your siblings' survival doesn't matter?" Her knight faltered a little at the end of her sentence.
"For now, it does."
Marrybell had experienced the loss of family members, probably more than most people around. While it was factual that she also had a family bigger than most, she believed there was enough room in her heart for the tears she shed at their passing to be somewhat genuine.
Although, that didn't count the brothers she personally murdered, fruitfully or not. In the case of Schneizel and Lelouch, she was committed to the deed and willing to atone for the sin of fratricide. At least I'm not the first Cain in my bloodline.
The two of them scooted around the cables running from the Glinda Gareth's shoulder to the Hadron Cannon mounted at the basement of the mansion. The oppressive heat from the burning blast suspended any of Marrybell's snooping to see the impact.
"How is this not gonna fry everyone in that bunker the instant it cuts through?" Marrybell feebly fanned herself down with the flat of her hand, even though the air circulating around her was totally drenched in the fever of the cannon.
"We're measuring the thickness of the door, should be able to burn through the last bit with thermite."
"Is the intercom still working?"
Oldrin didn't provide an answer right away. "-Hey- hey, you. Err… what's your… Sweeper! Sweeper, right? Cheetos 2-1?" The XO recalled a subordinate's name by cutely snapping her fingers.
"I feel blessed already, My Lord. What is it you need?"
"Does the bunker intercom still work?"
"It should. It's on a closed circuit, buzz and they'll hear. Picking up is another matter though, we haven't tried." Oldrin dismissed the technician in charge of door-busting with a quick salute.
"Who's inside?"
"Princess Guinevere, Carine and Prince Odysseus. Maybe some bodyguards." The Pendragon gang was all here. "What's your plan?"
Marrybell considered her options. She could try to persuade her siblings now, but they might still feel too safe hiding in what they assumed was an invulnerable bunker. Better to soften them up a bit by softening the door into molten steel, then it might be easier to coerce Guinevere into launching a F.L.E.I.J.A or ten.
"I'll chill a bit. I wanna know what you've been up to, haven't heard from you since I unlocked Bastion Dome for you."
"Well, we tried to pull off 'get help' and I ate a flashbang." Marrybell instantly burst into a fit of uproarious laughter.
— —
"And Soresi, she really pulled her weight today. She took a bullet in Excalibur's control room, walked it off like nothing. When we got to the Guren and even I forgot to use Toto's goober, she remembered it right away and off she went in Stadtfeld's KMF."
"Fascinating." Sitting with Oldrin in the patio of a relatively intact café, Marrybell merrily listened as she lightly tuned her guitar under an outdoor parasol. Some of her girls had decided to run the shop in its owner's steed, although she wasn't sure if selling everything on the menu for free was a wise business model.
"Sounds like she's a real… 'Evil Genius', yeah?" The strings began their melody by the princess' fingers.
Oldrin was not impressed. "Stop, no more. I don't wanna play. It's not even what I said."
"C'mon! One song, one song. Here it is: ~They were so ecstatic when the letter arrived… ~a certified genius at the age of five…~" It was a moody one, and not all that well known compared to its artist.
Oldrin either didn't know or refused to participate, but Marrybell couldn't just hit the brakes at just one line. "~They planned his future so carefully… ~he was everything they hoped he'd beeeeeee~"
The grumpy XO continued to shake her head, but there was hope amidst the convening audience who Marrybell always seemed to attract. "-Oh! This one is Pat Benatar!"
A peppy Marrybell eagerly clapped her hands and pointed in the direction of the pilot who deduced correctly. "Year and album?" Maybe that was asking for too much, but the royalty believed.
"Err… it's a… nineteen… nineteen eighty…? Ah- 1981 and Precious Time!" Marrybell couldn't be happier knowing her obsession was shared amongst so many of her knights.
"Yes! Winner!" Marrybell sultrily blew an ardent kiss for the pilot embedded by the callsign Metallica 3-2, who was overwhelmed by the recognition her commander gifted her.
"-You better watch your ass the next time you sortie, Sandman! Your chance of getting buddy-spiked just increased by like- at least a seven." The favoured Devicer rejoined her squad as they applauded her in their own way.
"People sure love you, huh, Marry?"
"And you do too, my dearest Oz."
"…Do I though, Marry? do I really?"
"Ohhh! ~You're- heartbreaker! ~Dream maker! ~Love taker- don't-you-mess around with me~!"
Putting aside their unthinkable acts of terror until a suitable opportunity presented itself, the royalty and her aide casually sipped on their tea in the comfort of a lulling September afternoon. The cool autumn breeze blew through Oldrin's hair, gusting the sweet scent of her perfume towards the princess' smell. Even though it had mostly been washed out by the sweat of a hard day's work, Marrybell didn't mind even the slightest.
"-Your Highness, we're through the door." That was the suitable opportunity Marrybell was waiting for.
The Glinda Knight who informed her commander of the update earned a thankful nod for her effort. Marrybell and Oldrin elegantly finished their cup and left an extortionate tip of literally nothing on the table before leaving the café.
On the way back to the mansion, Orpheus and Tink, Metallica's squadron leader and an absolute unit, appeared from the masses to accompany their leader.
"2-2."
"2-1." The twins acknowledged each other with the most unorthodox of greetings, but there was only so much Marrybell could do to mend the tension in their family feud.
"And Tink. How're things?" Turning over a new leaf and a new attitude, Oldrin was much more friendly with the man filling one of the rarest roles for a Glinda Knight, that of a male.
"It's good so far. Smooth sailing. I'll say I was worried about dealing with the heavy defense around this sector, but things worked out." Tink was someone after Marrybell's own heart, just not literally. He too cared deeply for the girls under his charge like the princess, and not for any devious reasons.
"What brings you here, Ironhide?" Marrybell proposed her intrigue to the man of steel. His nickname wasn't conjectured on a whim, the lad was a young cyborg and the pilot of the heftiest KMF with the biggest gun the Glinda Knights owed. Naturally, the connection came to be.
"Sokkia wanted me to see if Prince Odysseus is… as 'cute' as he is on tv."
"She couldn't see for herself because…?"
"She's… shy." Then who was Marrybell to disagree?
Everyone shared a bit of a laugh at Sokkia's discrete expense, fortunately for them, she wasn't around to scream up a storm.
Traversing down the stairway no longer scorching like the inside of a masonry oven, Marrybell saved herself the hassle of whipping out her handkerchief as she surveyed the damage done by a constant blast of plasma beam. There was a very noticeable circular dent in the centre of the steel gate, thin enough for her to almost believe she could punch through.
"Alright, the intercom works, right?" She was now ready to seriously intimidate her brother and sisters if it came down to it.
"What will you say?" Oldrin honestly asked.
"Maybe I'll play them a song, Guinevere really likes—"
"-No! No more songs! Just- I dunno, try open sesame!" Her personal knight appeared to be really sick of fun.
Marrybell soured her face into an exaggerated scowl and puckered out her plump lips sublimely. "~Fineeee! I'll just ask them politely to open up." She mischievously winked at an infuriated Oldrin.
"But do be ready to breach."
"Yep, yep." The XO sucked in her cheeks and her grumbles, seemingly unashamed of her mental age in the hundreds. "—Sabbath 2-1 to Cheetos. Breacher up at the bunker entrance, exothermic charge."
After pressing the intercom buzzer, Marrybell tried to brainstorm a perfect justification that could convince her siblings to unlock the gate. Sadly, she came up empty as the pixelated countenance of her oldest brother gradually cleared up on the low-resolution screen.
"—…Marrybell." Odysseus spoke, sadness visible in his gloomy irises
"—Brother Odysseus."
"—…Are you sure you want to do this?" Sensing another looming lecture about denouncing her deeds, the rebellious princess decided to seize the initiative.
"—May I interest you in opening up this bulkhead and inviting me to this exclusive family party? I even brought entertainment." She presented a charming twirl of her figure, showing off the guitar case on her back.
"—This can't be you, sister. I urge you to reconsider—"
Why're they always like this, where's the respect for the bad guy?
"—'Nooooo Marrybell! Noooo! You can't just topple the new monocracy after only half a year, nooooooo!'". It probably would be funnier if Odysseus could see her jazz hands and wide agape mouth, that was if he even understood what she went for there.
Frankly, Marrybell had grown sick of people still believing they could somehow just say a couple of inspiring words and change her mind, as if her resolution was really that frail. She poured months of groundwork and years of perseverance into reversing the tide of tyranny, the slumber of society. A plea from her older brother couldn't even dent her determination.
The consequence of her insolent travesty was unmistakable, if not slightly painful to witness. Odysseus winced woefully, slightly backing away from the intercom as he held back tears under his eyelids. The Crown Prince was among the kindest of all her father's heirs, so this shouldn't come as a surprise to the younger kin.
"—I am sorry, Marrybell. I don't understand how you became this way…"
Fucking asshole… asshole! How fucking dare he! Still, Marrybell almost couldn't believe it. That pity and sorrow in his guise. Him staring at her with the glint of an adult disappointed in the foul act of an immature youth. That was who they still saw her as, just a child needing to be disciplined.
From a single expression, Marrybell exploded in what she assumed was righteous anger. "—You pussy! PUSSY! Don't you walk away from me, Odysseus! You open that door right NOW or I'll bust it open wider than your pig-whore mum's ass on her wedding night!"
"—Please stop this madness, Marrybell! You don't know what you're doing!"
This was all she could take in one day.
The commander disregarded anything else her brother could throw at her. Instead, she fell back to the rest of her gunslinging troops. "Breacher! I want one really big fucking hole right now!"
"Big fucking hole coming up." One of her operatives pressed the detonator, and the thermite mat glued to the weakened section of the bunker started to burn at over two thousand degrees.
The crawling sparks on the opposite side of the gate drawing a circle must have scared her brother away, smart of him to avoid getting blown sky-high by the explosive ordnance melting through the door. Once the thermite had done its job, the C4 within the charge detonated and shredded the metal in its way.
"-Move and secure!" Taking the lead through the newly created entry, Oldrin and the rest disappeared behind a sheet of fog where gunshots rang sparsely.
Within five seconds, her team reported back. "Room's clear, set security." Their attestable skill was the pride Marrybell carried in her step as she marched through the gap.
Ignoring the two dead bodyguards on the floor, it was her one brother and three sisters at gunpoint who interested the treasonous princess. Humm, three?
There they were, her closest family. The family which Marrybell pretended to love in her ignorance and now tried to sneer down upon in realization. Odysseus, the first prince, a rather plain royalty overshadowed by the brilliance of his younger brothers. Guinevere, the first princess, a modern-day Marie Antoinette of Britannian blood, even her hairdo was comparable. Carine, the princess Marrybell and many others hated the most, just overall a massive dreg.
None of them deserved the luxury and privilege served to them, not when someone like Marrybell had to squirm her way out of the gutter for the same amount of recognition. Her entire adolescence was robbed from her for shining a light on their father's brutality, yet these bootlickers relished in extravagance for decades just by joining the silent majority.
However, there was also Laila, the younger sister of Clovis by blood. She didn't know that sister particularly well, and losing her true brother might well be the motivation she needed to understand Marrybell's plight. However, there wasn't any time to indoctrinate, maybe after the throne is safely secured, she could let her silver tongue do the work. For now, she took solace knowing the sixteen years old child could barely lift a wench, not to mention actually throwing it into her scheme.
"Well, well, well… how the turntables." Marrybell created an image of herself that was vicious in victory. The unfeigned looks of fear in her siblings' grimace pacified the bitter wrath on the tip of her tongue. Otherwise, she would gladly savour the sweet taste of stomping the losers.
Fronting a brave face, Odysseus stepped forth to protect his younger sisters. It was almost noteworthy how he and Guinevere shielded the younger Carine and Laila behind them, almost.
"Having come this far and shed this much blood. What is it you want, Marrybell?"
"What could possibly drive me to conquer the capital, I truly wonder." Laced in sarcasm, Marrybell jested.
"…What have you done to Lelouch?"
Now, that question drew a layered reaction from the rebellious princess. She appreciated the insinuation that she had in fact 'done' something to Lelouch, implying that she was capable of bringing to him in some way. However, she did not enjoy the mention of the emperor in the least, she did not need to be reminded of her failure.
"You should be more concerned with yourselves, dear siblings." Spilling a rather classic 'villain' cliché, Marrybell deflected Odysseus' question. "Aren't you least curious about what I want?"
"We cannot give you the throne, Marrybell." Sternly, Odysseus stated.
"When do I need your permission- any of your permission to do anything? Certainly not when father blew my brains out." Marrybell pointed a finger gun at her temple and fired, flinching her head back as her eye-rolled.
What am I doing? They don't know shit from shit. In hindsight, she was barking up the wrong tree airing her grievances to these siblings. As evident by their less than subtle attempts to hide their confusion, it really just embarrassed Marrybell and made her sound more insane than she was.
"-Whatever. Come, darling Guinevere! I'm here for your tongue and your code." Marrybell beckoned with her fingers for the older princess to step forward. When she cowardly refused, the twins had to gently prod her along using the muzzles of their rifles.
"You want to launch a F.L.E.I.J.A? You're a lunatic, Marrybell!" Guinevere ironically reprehended. This isn't just the pot calling the kettle black, this is the pot calling the kettle the N-word.
"Oh, shut up, you skank. Just read your countersign if you don't want a bullet through your bolt-ons."
"Screw you, Marrybell! I'll have you know I already burned those codes the moment your troops attacked. I can't launch anything!" Her sister declared, almost proudly.
"Like hell you did! You think I can't see through a…" Except that wasn't a lie, not by the panicked yet recalcitrant glimmer in Guinevere's pupils.
Marrybell instantly concentrated on her magical left eye, demanding her Geass to manifest. Her big sister didn't resist its horrifying effect as she was reduced to a dormant doll under the Glinda Knights' commander.
Marrybell tried her request again, hoping that Guinevere was a better liar than she even realized. "Give me the F.L.E.I.J.A launch code that Lelouch entrusted you with as the acting Prime Minister!"
To her total fear and displeasure, nothing happened.
This wasn't the proper procedure, and Guinevere obviously knew that. She couldn't just trash her launch code and wash her hands of any responsibilities. So what drove her to ditch such a critical part of her duty and put Marrybell in this position? She got a feeling she won't like the answer.
However, Marrybell wasn't just about to give up. She was still in possession of Lelouch's F.L.E.I.J.A football and its launch code. Maybe, just maybe, they were the same and she could somehow work out a way to still send some missiles into the atmosphere, although the chance of that was looking slim.
"You stupid imbecile…" The orange-haired girl was just about fed up dealing with her family, they just had to be so difficult. "Alright, wake up! Think of your first time… slurping on a dick or something!" Despite the advantage of her Geass, its victims could prove to be unwieldy in many situations. That was why Marrybell rather not deal with it when she already had the person bounded.
Guinevere snapped out of the Geass soon enough, no less baffled by what happened to her than the rest of her siblings. Fortunately, all of them were too spooked to bother Marrybell with questions that could easily draw out her ire, she wasn't feeling like depleting all her patience explaining actual magic to her clueless kins.
"Why did you do it?"
"…It's worth it seeing how pissy you get." Arrogant and egoistic, Guinevere replied.
"You do not want to see how pissy I get." Marrybell was on the brink of resorting to violence, but she deemed the older princess as not worthy of a slap. "-Secure these clowns and let's move out, we're done here." Issuing her order to her knights, Marrybell had no more reasons to linger.
Oz and friends swiftly and carefully handcuffed the prince and princesses, offering them the respect they haven't earned.
As her prisoners were leniently escorted out the bunker, Marrybell noticed the very apparent despising contempt for her from the youngest of her sisters. Laila shot her a hateful glare disdainful enough to kill an elephant, which was very impressive for a meek-looking girl like her.
"You were supposed to hunt the terrorists who hurt our people… not become them!"
"…Well, I bet you don't know that terrorists make for good kings." The irony, how deliciously painful it was.
— —
Author's note
It's been a while, this chapter is pretty long, I'm not gonna say much.
I know the last couple of chapters haven't been the best-est, it's kinda dragging on and stuff, I'm working on it, but I want everything to make sense, even if it gets a bit complicated. I dunno, maybe it's boring to read, especially if you don't like the viewpoint of the Glinda Knights. I just don't want to have a shallow antagonist, I really want the story to have some depth, just a little.
Although maybe the music references are too much, yeah, I definitely went a bit overboard with that.
But any correction I'll make, asked for by the reviewers or not, won't happen immediately. I write about three to four chapters ahead, so fixes to my writing style or method will come gradually, so you guys know. Also, I haven't been really responding to that many reviews like I said I would, sorry about that. Thanks for leaving a message, but I'm really procrastinating on a lot of things in life.
Anyway, I hope most of you guys enjoy what I write. Let me know your opinion if you feel strongly enough and I'll try to get back to you, no promises though.
