Inside the Gate, Between Alnus and Paris, December 1st, 0710 Alnus Time, 1100 Paris Time
Is this the real life ? Is this just fantasy ?
Anthony was asking himself those question, his headset playing softly the introduction of Bohemian Rhapsody. Behind the large windows of the white bus, large spotlights were passing regularly in front of his blank look as the Lieutenant was loosing himself in his thinking.
Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality.
He was at the front of the bus, just behind the driver seat. On the other side of the alley were Princess Pina and Boses, either looking at the passing lights or at the rest of the group. A few rows behind, Leilei, Tuka and Rory were chatting with Marc and Chaumond about what it is like on the other side. Anthony noticed that the elf didn't felt easy wearing the suit she had been given, like it was small enough to not be confortable while still looking perfectly fine. The rest of the soldiers sitting alone, listening to music, reading a book or simply thinking like the Lieutenant.
Open your eyes, look up to the sky and see.
He noticed Lelei pointing at the silver medal hanging of a red ribbon that was pinned on Chaumond's uniform. The medal was a Légion d'honneur, and Anthony also had one. The Lieutenant perfectly remembers that day at the Palais de L'Elysée, where in front of the cameras of news stations from all over the world, all the soldiers and policemen that fought during the incident received decorations.
The incident, or as the media called it "The Battle of Paris", was the perfect occasion for Francois Hollande to regain a good amount of points in the polls before the upcoming presidential election of May. Giving a speech full of emotion and giving medals to men and women generally recognized as heroes was an opportunity that every politician would take. But that day, the cameras weren't focused on the president, like they do in such occasions. Instead, Anthony had felt them looking at him with all the angles possible. If all of those that were invited were described as heroes, for the witnesses and those that heard them, he was the Hero of the Battle of Paris.
The 19th, he was the one leading the different patrols of the Champs-Elysées area for Opération Sentinelle. And when the press release of the Interior Ministry told to everyone that the first military response was coming from, and I quote, "men of the 126ème Régiment d'Infantrie under the orders of Lieutenant Moreau", the spotlight simply turned towards him.
Every single television, radio and newspaper requested an interview and the ratings and sell numbers of the few appearances he accepted were way higher than the national football team's games. Dozens of millions of people were listening to his answers to the same questions, "What really happened ?", "Do you know why this happened ?", "Were there real monsters from fantasy ?", "What will the Army do next ?".
Now, Anthony already knew that the same number of people will be in front of the parliamentary TV channel to hear more from him, but also to see for the first time people from the Special Region. He cracked a small laugh imagining how the public would react to the three girls. He already knew that the internet will go wild on the sight of Tuka, the real life elf like the ones in Lord of the Rings, and Lelei, the emotionless mage. But the Lieutenant was focusing more on the impact Rory will make if she declares that she is a demi goddess older than everyone in this world. The news of the existence of actual gods will probably enrage the most extremists of every religion and will probably cause them to call her a liar or demon of some kind.
Did he really cared ? No, not really. Anthony, despite going to a catholic private school until he entered in a public high school, had never been a man believing things without really seeing them, and thus never went to church apart from weddings of a friend or burials of the old members of his family.
Pina noticed the man chuckle in his seat, his ears covered by small black boxes tied together by a frame similar to the ones she had to put on when she rode with LaPointe inside the helicopter. After traversing the alley of the bus, she softly poked him in the shoulder to get his attention.
« Sir Moreau, why are you laughing ? » she asked while he was taking of his headset.
« Oh nothing. I was just thinking about something funny that you wouldn't understand. »
Anthony was about to put back the headset on when he noticed the curious look of the princess directed towards the device.
« You want to know what this is ? » he asked, handing it towards Pina.
Slowly, she put it on her head, trying to imitate how it was a few seconds ago on his head. Anthony looked for a few seconds in his playlists, mainly made of metal classics and Vietnam war-era rock, before finding a song appropriate for the Princess that had only listened to modern music through the loud speakers of the psyops choppers.
Playing :
Michel Sardou – Le France
He knew that the first seconds were a loud melting pot of several instrument and he immediately saw the princess' reaction of surprise and fear to what was a form of aggression to her ears. But when the soft notes came in, Pina's expression returned to normal as she focused on the voice of the man that started to sing.
Quand je pense à la vieille Anglaise, qu'on appelait le Queen Mary.
Echouée si loin de ses falaises sur un quai de Californie.
Like everybody that listens to a song in a language they don't understand, she was wondering what the lyrics were meaning.
Quand je pense à la vieille Anglaise, j'envie les épaves englouties.
Long-courriers qui cherchaient un rêve et n'ont jamais revu leur pays.
Little did she knew that it was the rant of an old boat that was supposed to cruise for a thousand years before ending on a dock far away from his birth place, replaced by more modern ones.
Ne m'appelez plus jamais France. La France elle m'a laissé tomber.
Ne m'appelez plus jamais France. C'est ma dernière volonté.
She closed her eyes, like to focus every part of her brain on the powerful voice of the man. Anthony sighed as he watched the princess and her naive expressions. "This is probably what is going to happen to your world and your way of life style." he thought to himself as he noticed a small white dot appearing in the blackness of the limbo far in front of the bus.
Paris, Champs-Elysées, December 1st, 1105 Paris Time
What would be the best words to describe the discovery of what was for half of the group a new and unknown world ?
Unexpected. Sudden. A leap forward in time. Something barely describable with words.
From the moment the bus had emerged from the iron dome sitting on the Champs-Elysées roundabout, the five were in awe behind the windows of the vehicle.
Sure, they were still inside a small military facility surrounded by fences, concrete walls and watchtowers, but all over them were grey stone buildings more beautiful than the ones you could find in the Imperial Capital.
The bus parked next to a small green container-sized prefabricated cabin. Following hand signs from several guards, the group got off their heated vehicle into the cold air of the European winter. Even for those that braced themselves the shock was quite brutal and some started to shiver. But even if their breathes were transforming into a light white cloud and their whole bodies were shaking because of the biting cold, the five women were trying to focus on something that one could classify as completely normal, before being distracted by another one.
« I'm going to take some papers. » launched Anthony to the group before opening the door of the booth.
As he expected, the only answer he got came from his subordinates, the rest of the group too busy to even hear the Lieutenant in the first place. All around them, patrolling soldiers were trying as hard as they could not take pictures. Some of the guests were not supposed to be here, and the right orders were given in consequence. All the guards had missed the chance to actually cross the Gate to be deployed in the Special Region, and having a part of it coming like to envy them was making them even more jealous of the lucky ones. But orders were orders, and they had to be respected. Who knows what would happen if one of the numerous security cameras caught you not being obedient ?
Anthony got out, holding a few sheets of paper. As he was about to indicate the next thing to do to the group, a voice came from behind him.
« Bien, bien, bien… Qui avons-nous là ? »
Everyone, even those that didn't understand French, turned around trying to identify the origin of the question. A group of men, all dressed with long black winter coats, were slowly making their way towards them. Before anyone could answered, the man in front launched another question, obviously aimed not at the whole, but at the Lieutenant.
« Everyone is constantly talking about you for the past months, and they're so many names that I genuinely don't know how to call you. Lieutenant Moreau ? Mister Moreau ? Or the Hero of Paris ? »
The looks shifted from the mysterious man to Anthony.
« Call me what you want, but don't get too fancy… I don't like when people thinks I'm more than I really am. But who are you anyway ?... DGSE ? DGSI ? »
The man smirked and let out a small laugh.
« We can't hide anything from you, can we ? My name is Bonisseur, Direction Générale de la Sécurité Intérieure. I did my researches about you, Lieutenant. Went to a small private school of Limoges before going to a public high school. Good grades all over your files, and according to some comments, "without doing much." You started to study for a degree in computer engineering. But, to the surprise of everybody, you decided two years in to go to Saint-Cyr. Here, you did just enough to become Sous-Lieutenant in the 126eme Régiment d'Infantrie. Then, Paris happened. Your first deployment in Opération Sentinelle, your first experience of combat and your promotion to the grade of Lieutenant. »
« I don't want to know how you got all those information. You got it all right. » commented Anthony.
« It is my job, replied Bonisseur with a large smile. But if we continue to talk here, we are going to be late at the Assemblée. Plus, those ladies seem to be cold. »
Anthony turned his head to see the Princess and Boses that started to strongly shiver.
« Well… We follow you… » Marc simply said, already walking towards the open side door of the white bus.
With some hands signs, the girls were asked to returned inside the vehicle. Quickly, the whole group returned to their seat and waited for black SUVs to take position as an escort.
And then the gates of the camp opened and the convoy inserted itself into traffic.
At that moment, the only way to interact with any of the girls was by answering their numerous questions about everything they saw.
« Why are the trees decorated ? »
« Are commoners allowed to drive those carriages ? »
« Why is there so many people here ? »
Each of those interrogation were coming directly after the previous one without even waiting for an answer to come back. Clark and Trevis surely tried to make themselves hearable in all this cacophony, but they were making the scene even more comic.
Bonisseur let out another small laugh before continuing his discussion with Marc and Anthony…
« You probably already know the schedule, but I'm going to say it again. First we go to the Assemblée and you'll eat there. Then you, Caporal, and Private Chaumond will go with the Princess and Miss Palesti to the Ministère next door. Then everyone will do what they came here to before we reunite and go to the hotel. Understood ? »
The two man nodded before refocusing on the happy chatter.
« What is that big stone… tower ? »
« You built a giant metal wheel that actually spins ? »
« Boses… Look at this palace… It looks bigger than the Emperor's… »
« Are those boats ? Why don't they have sails ? »
Anthony also laughed a little when he heard the voice of Lelei, distinguishable between the six others by its total lack of expression.
« Boy, they are not at the end of their surprises… » he whispered to himself.
« Priority to the direct. We interrupt this story to bring you in front of the Assemblée Nationale where our reporter Myriam Gerbeau is. Can you hear me, Myriam ? »
In a matter of seconds, the football player that was speaking about his performance during his team's last game was replaced by a small metis woman with curly hair standing in front of the large gates of the Assemblée's entrance. Her right hand was tightly holding her microphone next to her mouth. She was nervous like a student taking a important exam. Through the lens of the camera, she was feeling the millions of eyes watching her.
« Yes, Julie, I can hear you perfectly. The bus transporting the soldiers of the NATO Special Region Task Force and the three citizens of the Special Region is arriving at the Assemblée. »
While she started to point to her left, the cameraman made his device turn in that direction, revealing at first only the policemen staying at the crossroad to block the street.
Then suddenly, a black SUV appeared from behind a corner and turned to roll on the tiles of the empty Rue de l'Université. Another quickly followed before everyone focus their look on the subject of all the day's fuss.
A small white bus bearing a military plate.
The flashes of the numerous journalists' cameras immediately went on, trying to find the shot that would sell millions of papers. Unfortunately, all the curtains were drawn, keeping the interior of the vehicle a secret to everybody.
Almost as fast as it arrived, the bus turned again and passed through the gates that closed behind it.
« The summon will start in a little more than an hour, started again the young journalist as she returned in the middle of the frame. After that, they will be escorted to their hotel in the center of the city. An homage ceremony will take place at the Champs-Elysées Memorial in two days, but until then, the schedule of the refugees is unknown. Back to you, Julie. »
« Princess, if you thought that our food was delicious with what you have eaten at Alnus, you should brace yourself. »
I remember these words perfectly. They were those of the Caporal as we entered in a small room next to the main dining hall of the Assemblée.
Despite the size of the room, a big table was standing in the middle. All around it were eleven chairs, and in front of each of them was a plate filled with different vegetables and sauces. The man that had lead us here turned around and asked us to take a seat. To be honest, this man was doing the same thing as a noble's manservant, but I wasn't feeling in his actions the weight of having to do his job right in fear of heavy sanctions. Another thing from this world that I have to get used to.
After everyone sat down, the man indicated what was inside the plate. I have to say it again, but the language used in France sound similar to the one I always used.
« It is a Caesar Salad, translated to me Lieutenant Moreau. It is made up of lettuce, small cubes of hard bread, cheese and some other stuff. »
Saying it tasted like the food of the gods is clearly an understatement. The combined efforts of the finest chefs of the entire Empire could not go even close to this simple salad. Even after thinking about it, I can't find any good words to describe the taste.
After that came another plate, this time with meat in it. It looked like Ma Nuga meat accompanied by other vegetables, but again it tasted even better. At the end of the meal, a third plate was brought to us. This time, it was a small black cake in the middle of a tan cream. From the whole meal, this cake made of something they call "chocolate" is the thing that I remember the most. The best way I can describe it is by saying that it is a dozen time more sweet than the pastries that you can find during banquets.
From what I wrote, you would probably think that this meal was made of food that only the richest people can afford. Here are the exact words of the Caporal after we were separated from the rest of the group : « You should be aware of the fact that almost everyone can afford a similar meal at a restaurant. And by everyone, I really mean every regular citizens. »
But enough talks about food.
After the meal, we headed outside were a "car" was waiting for us. With little ceremony, we left the courtyard of the Assemblée.
There was a large crowd waiting in front of the court's gates. I knew they were waiting for us with their flashing devices that produce paintings called a "camera", but they paid little attention to the lonely vehicle, keeping us under the silence of secret.
I thought that we were going through the city, but we literally stopped in front of a neighboring building. I quickly understood that we were at the French Foreign Affairs Ministry.
The car entered the courtyard facing the building. In some kind of protocol, it stopped right in front of the large stairs leading to the entrance. But there was not any fancily dressed guards waiting for us. Instead, a grey haired man was standing at the top of the stairs. He was dressed in the same dark costume as almost every man I saw. Behind him was a second man, similarly dressed but younger.
We got out of the vehicle and went up to his level. He started to talk in French, and the soldiers translated his words.
« Princess Co Lada, he said, it is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Jean-Marc Ayrault. I am the Minister of Foreign Affairs of the French Republic. »
He slightly turned around and looked at the other man that nodded.
« And I am Jules Costi, he introduced himself in our language. I was assigned to lead the diplomatic missions in the Empire. But I still have to practice speaking your language so I'll let Caporal Sostat and Private Chaumond do the translation. »
He looked like a citizen of the Empire with his slightly tan skin compared to the others. It is very likely that this characteristic allowed him to obtain this post.
The two lead us through corridors and antechambers to the Minister's office.
The room was large, and like the rest of the building's interior, filled five majestic decorations. Everything was either masterfully painted, engraved, plated with gold or the three at the same time.
The Minister and Sir Costi sat down behind a large elaborate table and invited us to do the same in front of him. Sir Sostat was next to me and Bozes while Sir Chaumond was on the other side, directly translating in the Minister's ears.
« I will start by apologizing for how this meeting was arranged, said the grey haired man through the voice of the young soldier. The protocol would have been normally enforced, but for a lot of reasons we don't want to reveal to the public that we are having contacts with such a high ranking person as you are. »
Diplomacy is a war of words. The meaning of each sentence must be perfectly measured to make sure your opponent understand your intentions. By apologizing, he was making sure that I understood right away that he, and through him France and NATO, were trying to solve this conflict with most peaceful accord possible.
But I didn't meet him to negotiate peace. As third princess, I don't have such a political power. However, being a princess, I have influence over the senators.
For a long time, we discussed about the number of diplomats that they will send, the preparation needed to their travel and who shall pay the cost of those mission. We settled on one diplomat, Sir Costi, and his escort at first that I shall host in my personal palace. Others will then come if their mission need more diplomats.
On the other side, I managed to have members of the Rose Order hosted at Alnus at the expenses of NATO. There, they'll learn the French language to facilitate communications and help with the reconstruction of Italica.
I can't write down the rest of the agreement here. The minister and the diplomat insisted that certain details are to be kept as secret as possible. However, they never said anything about another moment I'll never forget.
« Now comes the problem of the war prisoner. » started the minister, grabbing a black book from a pile of documents.
Boses and I weren't able to see what was written on it.
« They are currently scattered in numerous prisons throughout the country and some are even detained in Germany and the United Kingdom, continued Sir Costi. The number is too high for our capabilities and we desire to give them back to you. »
I started to feel uneasy. I knew that the scales of everything in this world was bigger compared to Falmart. So when the words "too high" reached my ears, I couldn't help myself but wonder what couldn't be handled by them. Strangely, I also felt something in Boses. She had her eyes rived on the book, focused, like she was trying to use some sort of magic on it.
The minister noticed, and with his finger he turned the book around to show us what was written on it. On the black cover were large white letters coming from the two alphabets of the two worlds.
Liste des prisonniers de guerre Imperiaux
List of Imperial war prisoners
« The total number of captive soldiers from the Empire is about six thousands. »
At that moment, a chill ran down my spine. It was like the world was crumbling all around me. I started to imagine the amount requested for the ransom, and the number I thought were the most logical were too high even for the wealth of the Empire.
« How much do you want ? » I asked with an unsure voice.
The two men looked at each other and both smirked.
« Do not worry, Your Highness. We are not requesting any money. »
He slowly pushed the book towards us, his face suddenly returning to his seriousness.
« However we are sure that some name here will change the mind of some senators. »
But before I could take the black covered pieces of paper, Boses literally threw herself to grab it. She started to frenetically turn the pages, like she was looking for something.
Someone's name.
I didn't had to ask. I already knew whose name her eyes were looking for in the middle of the list.
Lucius Co Palesti.
General of the Imperial Army.
Second in command of the detachment sent to Alnus.
Leader of the invading party.
And Boses' brother.
When she handed me the book, her mouth smiling and her eyes wetted by tears of joy, I knew that she had found it. And a part of me was happy too. Lucius is five years older than both of us, thus when I started the creation of the Rose Order, he gave me numerous lessons and advices on the arts of war. Through the years, he became a friend.
The list was long. From the high ranked general to the simple soldier, the six thousands name were following each other in the alphabetical order.
Cassel, Dussie…
The sons of numerous senators crossed the Gate with the Army. Not a single one came back. For their parents, they were dead, and promising their safe returns in exchange for peace was a deal that a lot will accept.
« Can I have a copy of this list ? I asked politely. I imagine that the first draft of freed prisoners will be small, so I would like to deeply think about it… »
« Surely, your Highness. » nodded the diplomat as he took back the list and placed it back on the pile of documents.
« The last thing you will have to set up, continued the minister, will be how we are going to set up our operations in the Capital… But it is not our domain anymore. You will have to talk with General LaPointe at your return at Camp Alnus. »
After a few seconds of silence, the two men stood up. The minister extended his right hand, completely open towards me.
« Princess, I honestly thank you for being the first step towards what I hope will be great and peaceful relations between our two countries. »
Almost everywhere, I had saw people from this world greet each other by shaking their hands. It is what one could call a tradition, and I was better respecting it. I also lifted myself out of the chair I was sitting in and, unsurely but not without good intentions, I grabbed the hand of the man.
Is that really how contracts are signed here ?
And this is how my first meeting with the French diplomats ended. Deep in my heart, I can feel that a bright future for the Empire is possible.
« Come on, Gomez. Hurry up. We're fucking going to miss it, mate. »
The words yelled by Cavendish bounced on the walls of the refugee camp's street. On the picnic table, Gomez was using his laptop. Thanks to his phones' shared data and the first antennas installed at Camp Alnus, he managed to link the computer to the internet.
« I know ! I know ! I'm doing what I can ! yelled back the American soldier. Should probably yell on the antennas instead of me ! »
The two men were attracting the curious looks of numerous refugees.
« What is going on ? asked Kato, calmly walking towards them. Why are you making so much noise ? »
« Lelei and the others are going to speak in front of the French… huh Senate. It's broadcasted live but I have the slowest connection ever. » answered the Puerto Rican.
The mention of the mage's name brought even more attention on them. Over the years in Coda, she had become a popular figure for the villagers by giving medicine to the sick and helping all the ones in need.
« So this is one of those… "computers" ? It is really going to show Lelei ? » asked a villager, pointing at the black laptop.
« Yup, nodded Gomez. Thanks to this magical place called the internet, you can have access to almost everything at any time. But it is not magic… It's… Huh… »
But as he was planning how he was supposed to explain the principle of the world wide web, the blank screen of the computer shifted to the live broadcast of La Chaîne Parlementaire.
At that moment, their were only white letters over a purple animated background.
A suivre : Auditions sur la responsabilité de la FORSO sur la mort de civils dans la Région Spéciale.
« Ah… Fucking finally… sighed Gomez. What does it says ? »
« It says "Coming next: Hearings on the NSRTF responsibility over the death of civilians in the Special Region", translated Cavendish in the local language. It's going to start soon so if you people want to see it, you should come now. »
On this statement, almost every lodging emptied itself and the majority of the refugees gathered behind the laptop's fifteen inches monitor.
As the last villager sat down on a chair he brought from his lodging, the purple image started to fade to a shot of a large room filled with a lot of people.
They were all sitting behind tables with microphones in front of them. Only seven seats were empty, and everyone knew who were supposed to sit there.
The camera swept across the room before stopping, a large pair of doors in the middle of the frame.
And the doors opened, revealing to the world a part of the region that was stretching on the other side of the Gate.
Operation Marteau de Justice is back !
Why were there no update during a whole month ? Three words. Work, work and even more work. Right now, I can only write between 250 and 300 words a day, so I need at least 20 days to reach the 5k words chapter length. But anyway, it's reviews time.
Celestia's Paladin - It is sure that because she is not in Japan but in France, a lot of things are different (cough cough "art" cough cough).
recordman - It's not yet the time for the true "exploration" of the city is probably coming in the next chapter coming next month... I hope.
MRMercenary47 - I saying it right away. There will be a Hakone type scene. I'll try to make it way less stupid than Yanai's tho by not sending any Black Ops SFG or some shit.