Chapter 6: Internal Power
Three Hundred Miles West of Alnus Hill
"Positive signal fix, we'll be on-site in fifteen minutes," the helicopter pilot announced as the HH-60G Pave Hawk took a hard bank to the south.
Captain Hines was used to this, having done similar operations many times before. He keyed his communications set and repeated to his squad. "I want it like we practiced," he said. "In and out in no more than ten."
Officially, the agreement with Japan prevented American service members from leaving the base for any reason other than rocket component recovery, but it did not specify anything about the background of the units themselves.
The members of the 94th Security Forces Squadron were not assembled from a background of Security Forces personnel. Rather, the men and women present were on loan from a more selective group of Pararescuemen and Combat Controllers.
Specifically, the 24th. Special Tactics Squadron.
Everyone on that helicopter had seen combat at one time or another, and Hines had worked personally with at least a quarter of them in Iraq.
Some of them, he thought with a smirk, had even worked with NASA in recovering splashed-down test capsules like Orion.
That evening's mission was similar, in some respects, but did not require the Navy to help them collect their cargo.
"Thermal contacts," the copilot announced. "looks like livestock. We're going to land within sight of the target, drop you off, and orbit until you're ready to go."
Hines nodded and waited as the Hawk drifted down to the plans below with two bumps as the rear and then front wheels made contact with the ground. The airmen clambered out of the aircraft and dropped to the ground once clear of the rotors, rifles out and ready for anything to come at them. Others might have thought this silly in a region where the opposing force's primary armament consisted of short swords, but Hines wasn't about to take any chances from some long-range archer or whatever Magical crap seemed to exist in this place.
The noise from the helicopter increased as it pulled itself back into the sky, then quieted down as it rose to a safe observing altitude.
Two of the Pararescuemen moved to a crouching position, swept the plain, and announced "Clear!" before the rest of them sat up enough to see over the thick grass. They had clear lines of sight in all directions, and Hines could see the animals that the copilot had mentioned earlier; large bison-like creatures that had scattered at the helicopters' noise and downwash. "Captain, these are SR Ma-Nugas," one of the airmen whispered into his radio set. "Grass-eaters. 'bout as dangerous as cows are Stateside."
"Right. Give 'em their space," Hines said, then made his way over to Combat Controller TSgt. Brooks, who was still speaking with the helicopter pilots over his larger backpack transmitter. The CCT pointed, and the group settled into a typical squad column formation as they made their way over to their objective.
When they finally arrived, they were standing at the edges of a crater a good six feet deep and dozen feet wide. At its bottom was what they had come to recover: a W87 reentry vehicle. As they had practiced before deploying to the Special Region, half of the airmen moved out and into a defensive perimeter, while the remaining Pararescuemen switched their rifles for entrenching tools and began digging the warhead out of the ground.
Of course, warhead was a misnomer by that point. It would have only been dangerous to something standing directly underneath it as it landed, and nobody else. The W87 that had been launched on the Midgetman rocket about an hour earlier was a 'dummy' warhead of the sort that the Air Force regularly used to test Midgetman's heftier cousin, the LGM-30G "Minuteman III", which, unlike the MGM-134, was in active service. In other words, in place of a thermonuclear weapon, it held diagnostic testbeds and scientific instruments which could be used to evaluate the missile's and warhead's performances in flight. Between the thermal protection and hardened hull, the dummy-warhead was more than robust enough to survive the plunge back through the atmosphere and, eventually, into the ground. Even at a glance, Hines could see the lit LEDs of some active instruments glowing from the sky-facing rear of the device.
"Contact," one of the perimeter airmen called. "Human or humanoid, approaching from North-northeast."
"How many?" Hines asked.
"Just the one."
Hines pulled a pair of night-vision binoculars from his vest and sighted the intruder. It was a small figure, toting a large hook-ended cane on one shoulder. Could be a civilian, could be an enemy magician. Must've been sleeping next to one of the Ma-Nugas, which hid them on the thermal cam, Hines rationalized. Whomever they were, they were still about a kilometer out, and not an immediate threat.
Still…
"We've got it clear," one of the Pararescuemen called, and together they hauled the two-foot by five-foot cone from its hole. Next to Hines, CCT Brooks nodded and uttered another rapid-fire request into his microphone.
Seconds later, the Pave Hawk roared into place above their heads and began its second vertical descent, touching down nearby. Together, the airmen hauled the dummy-device into the helicopter's payload space, then some of them climbed aboard after it. Once the payload was on its way, Hines had the Combat Controller call in the remaining Hawk to pick the rest of them up.
The airmen keeping track of their mysterious follower piped up, stating, "They're picking up speed, and they'll be on us in a minute or two. Orders?"
Hines pointed at two of the airmen. "Jones, whoever it is, scare them off. Don't want any locals approaching the Hawk as it comes down. Williams, circle around to the side and cover him. Rest of us will hold at this site and support as needed."
The Special Forces operators nodded and made their way towards the mysterious figure. Within a few meters, Jones stated, "From what I can pick out of my NVGs, looks like a twelve-year-old boy. A shepherd, I think. Mind if I go say hello?"
"Use your discretion and keep far enough that Williams can step in as needed."
The Captain watched as Jones quickly closed the distance. He could only imagine what this must have looked like from the boy's perspective; the man in the dark armor, clutching his strange weapon, sprinting in his direction and starting him down with the four green, glowing eyes of his night-vision goggles. Furthermore, Master Sergeant Jones was a tall man, probably twice as tall as the shepherd across from him.
The boy skidded to a halt, then backpedaled a few steps as the Pararescuemen stopped before him. As Hines watched, Jones leaned over so that he was eye to eye with the kid, who was now shaking in terror at the strange man-like monster that said only one word.
"Boo!"
The boy let out a shrill cry, dropped his staff, and sprinted in the opposite direction. "They're on the run," Jones said. "Want me to pursue?"
"Nope. Kid's probably pissed himself already. Return to the LZ." Hines lowered his binoculars and sighted the remaining helicopter making its way in for landing. Their job was almost over. It was only a matter of transporting the W87 back to the operations personnel on base, and they would be 'free' until the next launch.
And the best part? They had yet to fire a shot, or have a single shot fired at them.
He took a deep breath of clear, cool night air and couldn't help but think, I'll take this over Iraq any day.
Alnus FOB, Alnus
"I think they liked it," Carol said, as she sat in Colonel Mullan's office early the next morning. She had told Greta to sleep in that morning while the Air Force finished extracting data from the returned nose cone, and Mullan had decided to open with a question about the audience.
"You think?"
"It's a bit of a step up from model rockets to one of the big ones," Carol explained. "I think most of them were alarmed by the noise at first, but by the time that the rocket was out of hearing range I had a lot of them come up to me and excitedly ask when we were planning on the next one. Speaking of which, what is the launch schedule for the remaining rockets?"
Mullan leaned back in his chair, thought for a moment, then said. "We're sending HML-1 back through the Gate now that it's empty. The rocket on HML-2 experienced a guidance fault during testing...we scrambled to modernize, but you need to understand that we're still using a lot of the old RCA circuit boards. The fact that we're relying on inertial and gyroscopic estimation over GPS doesn't help things. This leaves us with the vehicle on HML-3, which should be good to go once we get the data back from the last flight.
"After that?" he shrugged. "The Japanese have already started construction on a concrete pad for Epsilon, and I've heard that NASA admin Kosinski is in talks with Defense Secretary Clayton about what kind of LV we should send through next… if we should send one at all. If Epsilon and their mapping satellite get into the orbit they're looking for, we'd just be sticking around to protect HML-2 and do odd jobs."
"You couldn't just go back home?"
The man shrugged. "We cannot drive the rocket on HML-2 back through the Gate, as that would violate our agreement with the Russians and Chinese. We also sure as heck won't have an easy time fixing it here. This means that there will be a USAF presence here until either that rocket flies, or we are forced to abandon it in-place. From what I've heard, the brass would rather not leave an otherwise-functional rocket with the Japanese, even an old one."
"Sorry to hear that."
"Don't be. The weather's nice, the locals are decent, and the Opposing Force hasn't invented gunpowder yet. Any better, and we might as well be on vacation."
"Oh," Carol said. "That reminds me. I was talking to Greta about her family, and I was wondering if—"
Before she could finish, the door to their room burst open and General Hazama rushed in, followed by his aides and clutching a parchment envelope. "Colonel Mullan, this is quite urgent. I need to know how soon you can launch again."
Mullan and Carol exchanged a glance before the Colonel said, "Just to confirm, Dr. Dawson can hear everything you're about to say. Is that okay?"
"Yes, yes, she's fine," Hazama said. "The important thing is that our force elements at Italica intercepted a wyvern-rider carrying this letter just after sunrise this morning."
He unfolded a piece of printed paper and said, "The translation reads as follows:
"Esteemed members of the JSDF."
"I would like to introduce myself. I am Alron El Tarinium, and your experiment, test or mission from yesterday night was visible from our rooftops and caught our interest. Since your arrival, we have been curious about the nature of Japanese advancement in natural philosophy, and we were hoping to observe some of your marvels for ourselves.
"Please indicate your availability at your earliest possible convenience.
"And then he presents his signature, along with a wax seal," Hazama concluded. "The exiled Senators at Italica claim that the seal is authentic, and that this letter came from a member of the Rondel Council."
"Rondel Council?" Colonel Mullan said, leaping to his feet, "So we have an actual chance-"
"I'm sorry," Carol interrupted. "I'm out of the loop here. Why is Rondel so important?"
Mullan walked over to a map of the region pinned to his wall. "Aside from Alnus, there are three critical cities on the southern side of the Dumas Mountain range," he explained, pointing to them on the map. "They are Italica, Rondel, and Bellnahgo. Italica is already on our side and commands the mountain passes at Beza and Marias. Bellnahgo is a religious site that heavily taxes users of the mountain pass that it commands. If you wanted to take an army across the Dumas mountains, that leaves you with three options: Brave the Western Desert and a second mountain range, funnel your troops along or across the Blue Sea to the East, or move them down the pass created by the Row Stream to here—Rondel."
He pointed a finger back at Rondel. "Rondel is a city run by academics, and while they have maintained a neutral stance through the war so far, the nature of this neutrality means that Zorzal's Intel guys still have open access to the libraries there. We're talking magic, alchemy, all the serious things that the Empire could actually use as a serious threat to Pina's coalition."
"There is also the fact of the magicians themselves," Hazama added. "Every one is potentially a deployable weapon on the scale of our LAVs. One humanoid we captured at Italica, Myuute Luna Sires, could produce deflective barriers out of the air. Another magician, thankfully on our side, has demonstrated the ability to produce significant explosive attacks. Preliminarily testing has led us to believe that these explosive effects could be further magnified enough to become a threat to our tanks and aircraft. If Rondel remains neutral, some of these magicians may be convinced to join Zorzal's army. If we can turn Rondel to our side, this cuts off Zorzal from valuable intelligence, raises the potential of adding magicians to our own forces, and secures our dominance of the land on this side of the Dumas range. Any army that Zorzal tries to send after that would need to either secure a fleet of ships to the east, risk moving along the exposed coast, or funnel through the mountain passes at Marias and Beza. In all of these cases, they would come under concentrated fire from our aircraft and artillery."
"Basically, if we can convince the Rondel Council that we are worth listening to, we've cut Zorzal's options down to Stalemate or Lose." Mullan said. "And in that sense, yes. Yes, we can absolutely get HML-3 ready for a launch in two or three days. Carol, can your folks with NASA PR get enough fancy graphics and videos together to pull off the social end?"
Carol was shocked, but not surprised. NASA had a longstanding history of being used to subtlety influence other nations. Much of the reasoning behind Russia's inclusion in the ISS, she'd heard, was to prevent their rocket scientists from seeking other employment in China, Pakistan, Iran, or, heaven forbid, North Korea.
"Takagi, Greta and I are going to wind up having a few late nights translating media from English to Japanese and Imperial, but I think that we can pull it off."
"One more thing," Hazama said, "Princess Pina will be sending some of her representatives here to try and push negotiations with the Rondel Council. Give them a nice show, but otherwise please leave them alone."
Mullan nodded. "We can do that."
"Itami and his group will be with them."
Carol similarly smiled and nodded. She had heard good things about Itami from many of the JSDF soldiers and natives. Greta had never met him personally, but had described him as, "Well liked and admired, especially for his actions against the Flame Dragon and facing down Zorzal not once, but twice."
Mullan grabbed her attention by folding his arms stating, "No. Absolutely not."
"You have something wrong with the Lieutenant, Colonel?"
"As a representative of the United States, I do indeed have something very wrong with Itami, General Hazama."
"And what would that be?"
"Hakone."
Carol looked back and forth between the two military officers. She had never seen either of them this serious before; Mullan with his mouth set in a firm line, Hazama giving the plastic, cold smile of a Japanese businessman. She broke the silence with, "What's Hakone?"
Hazama turned the dead smile on her. "It would be best, Dr. Dawson, if you left the room and allowed Colonel Mullan and I to discuss the matter privately."
She looked to Mullan for support, but instead he met her with a cold stare and pointed her in the direction of the door.
Takagi was waiting for her outside. "Did General Hazama have anything interesting to say?" She asked.
"Yeah, sounds like we're going to be busy for a while. Lots of VIPs will be here soon, and we need to be ready with both a launch and some general entertainment stuff by then."
Takagi nodded. "I can get you priority bandwidth on the network for video downloads and media requests."
"There was something else," Carol said. "Mullan mentioned it in passing. Do you know what Hakone is?"
The Specialist stiffened. "No."
"You're a terrible liar, Takagi."
"My answer is no, and that is final."
Later, when alone with Foster and Schumer, she asked them the same question.
"Never heard of it," Foster said, but at least he seemed more honest about it than Takagi had been.
"Neither have I," Schumer said, "But if Mullan doesn't want to talk about it, it's probably for OpSec reasons."
"OpSec?"
"Operations Security. Whatever Hakone is, there's a reason that only the Colonel knows about it."
"It sounded like it was something about Lieutenant Itami," Carol wondered aloud. "Do you think that something happened—"
"Look, lady," Foster said, holding out a hand to stop her. "This isn't Harry Fucking Potter. You don't get awarded points for solving the mystery. The General wants you to drop it, the Colonel wants you to drop it, and Takagi wants you to drop it, so drop it."
Carol didn't like any of this. Wanting a space program in the Special Region, strange as it had seemed at first, made more sense now that she was on the ground and hearing about the tactical situation. Wanting to keep information about the HMLs and Midgetman away from her also made sense—it was ballistic missile technology, after all. Carol worked with enough foreign nationals, including Russian rocket engineers, who did not need to know that information, even if the technology was becoming increasingly dated. But now a point of contention between Japan and America? And Hakone was a Japanese name, so either the Japanese had been responsible, it had happened on Japanese soil, or it was a Japanese code name for an operation. Itami had been involved somehow too, so—
"I can see those gears turning," Foster growled. "Drop it."
"S-sorry," Carol said, shaking her head to dispel the line of thought. Regardless of what happened at Hakone, she still had a job to do. That job now involved condensing a lesson on modern rocketry and orbital mechanics into a lecture digestible by people with a 16th-century education…and any of the misconceptions that were sure to come with it.
Alnus Settlement, Alnus
"But when is later?" Lister asked, his muzzle dropping into a frown.
Greta had been sent to deliver the bad news to the Alnus Settlement. "Two days, three at most." Greta said. "Dr. Dawson wanted to be here to apologize in person, but she is busy preparing for the members of the Senate and Rondell Council. In addition to another rocket launch, they will be showing the pictures from the rocket launched yesterday night."
There was some grumbling from the assembly, and Greta couldn't blame them. Carol had told the audience that she would have the pictures today, and instead they were being pushed away to make room for the aristocracy. One draconian towards the back asked, "Why? Are we not worthwhile?"
"You are," Greta insisted. "But the moving pictures that Dr. Dawson and Sergeant First Class Takagi are working on are complicated to make, and must be translated from their languages into ours."
Thus, concluded, she meekly made her way off the amphitheater stage where she settled onto a wall next to a pair of JSDF guards. She wanted to stick around for whatever other questions the audience members might want to ask afterwards.
There was one more person scheduled to take the stage that afternoon, and Greta saw with dismay that it was the Follower of Hardy. Usually the man would make his rant before Carol gave her usual performance but now, freed up from interference, the man could run his mouth to his own content.
"See how the Americans and Japanese hide themselves in shame!" he crowed. "Surely this is a sign that they have angered the Gods in some way. To shake the ground, blast such noise, and pierce the sky so violently is a desecration of Hardy, Lunaryur, and Flare all at once. And look at how they abandon you, you who lost everything to war and came here seeking peace, only to live under the auspices of such insanity. Know this! All are equal in the eyes of Hardy, and those who turn from the Gods will meet a terrible fate."
Greta couldn't listen to any more of this. If the Gods truly disliked what was occurring, why hadn't they acted? Where was Hardy's apostle, Giselle? Why had Emroy's apostle, Rory, sided so easily with the JSDF?
The last one's easy, a part of her own mind whispered back to her. Emroy is the bringer of darkness. He LIKES the violence that the JSDF brings to this world.
No, no that couldn't be right… such a God wouldn't approve of the JSDF and their 'Humanitarian' agents, their Geneva Convention kindness towards enemies, and he certainly wouldn't approve of Carol Dawson and her relatively harmless views on natural philosophy. Would La really lead her to wisdom at the expense of good? "Let's go," she whispered to the JSDF guards and together they began to leave.
"You cannot hide from Hardy," the man on the stage shouted after her. "You cannot escape the Land Below."
Formal Manor, Italica
1st Lieutenant Itami Youji had always prided himself in avoiding conflict where possible, or for discovering round-about ways to make someone else handle a conflict for him. Sometimes, however, the brass discovered a way to force him into a conflict that he could not avoid. This was one of those days.
The manor was dark at that time of the night. There had been talks of wiring the manor with electric lights, but with most of the JSDF's vehicles and aircraft dedicated to the fight against Zorzal, luxuries like electricity did not extend beyond the JSDF command posts. Still, oil lamps on the walls or the flashlight in his hand were enough to dispel much of the darkness, and allowed Itami to see Pina long before she saw him.
The red-haired princess was leaning against the wall in her nightgown as she looking up at a large oil painting across the hall. It showed Imperial soldiers forcing some other army back into the sea. Even in the dim lighting, Itami could see both the pain and rage of the soldiers in the picture, and the exhaustion on Pina's face.
"Looks like a rough campaign." Itami said.
Pina jumped at his sudden appearance, but eventually settled down and with a smile said, "One of the hardest. It had a happy ending, at least."
"Oh? Tell me about it."
Pina took a few steps closer to the painting and began her tale. "About two and a half centuries ago, the Empire fought a bitter campaign that my people call the Arctic War… not for the temperature, but because of how cold and harsh it was on our people. At the time we were fighting against the Careth Kingdom, which hailed from a large continent to our Southwest.
"They were a terrifying force, butchering entire towns and cities as they went. At the battle of Akuteku, sixty thousand Imperial soldiers were cut down by the Careth army. Until the war with Japan, this had been the largest defeat in Imperial history.
"We are… taught that the Imperial Senate refused to surrender. The Imperial people rallied around them and, four years and thousands of deaths later, the Empire finally pushed Careth out of Falmart."
Pina sighed and said, "Children of the Empire are taught that this bone-headedness is a virtue, and it's a large part of why much of the original Senate continues to side with Zorzal, even as the JSDF rains destruction down on their sons. I am terrified that this war will end with half of the Empire treading the path to Hardy in the Land Below."
Itami gave a grave nod. "Japan used to be like that too."
"What changed?"
Itami almost told her. Two million soldiers dead. Ancient cities firebombed. Hiroshima, Nagasaki… but Pina didn't need to know that. Particularly, not before hearing the news that he had to deliver.
"I wanted to talk with you about something else," Itami said. "The bright light that the other girls saw flying from Alnus hill last night? That was a rocket."
"A rocket?"
"Do you remember at the Battle of Italica how some helicopters threw tubes that spat smoke and landed with a big explosion? It's like that, but much bigger, and pointed at the sky instead of people. We usually launch them to study things up there."
Pina nodded. "It would make sense that Japan would have such a machine."
"It's not ours."
Her eyes widened at that one. The Empire didn't know much about Earth beyond Japan, except for one instance…
"Then who does it belong to?" she asked.
"The United States of America."
She frowned. "The name sounds familiar."
"It should. They were one of three nations that tried to kidnap you at the resort in Hakone."
The Princess brought up a hand to her mouth in shock, took a few steps back and slumped against the wall. "Were… was the JSDF overrun?" she asked.
"No."
"Then what are they doing at Alnus Hill!?"
Itami scratched the back of his head. "Technically, they are our allies."
"Nations who attack you in the night are not allies!"
"I don't know myself," Itami said. "I tried to talk to Yanagida about it, but he claims that it is part of a research program. He doesn't trust them and neither do I."
"So what will you do?"
The soldier shrugged. "What can I do? Smile, wave, and hope that I find out what's going on."
"Do you plan on telling the others?"
"I would prefer not to, especially not you-know-who."
"Lelei may be young, and Tuka may be naive, but I imagine that an apostle of Emroy will see right through you."
"I can keep a secret, you know."
"If only you had a secret to keep!" whispered a voice in his ear.
Itami whirled around and had his sidearm halfway out of its holster before Rory sprang from his back, over his head, and landed gently on the floor before him. She lifted her halberd from its place on the wall, twirled it around once in the air and placed the end firmly down on the carpet with a dull thunk.
Itami glanced back over his shoulder at Pina and asked. "How long was she listening?"
"Long enough," Rory said with a pout. "Itami-dono, does our friendship mean so little that you would tell that silly girl about the Americans before me?"
"I am a woman, and I'm not silly," Pina countered.
Itami waved both off before turning his attention back to Rory. "Look, regardless of what happened, we can't attack the Americans. I've been told that they're here to help us. For now, our best bet is to watch and wait. And that means that we stay on our best behavior until the Americans give us a reason to do otherwise.
"Understood?" he said, leaning down so that he was eye level with Rory.
She gave him a too-large, unconvincing smile, a mock salute, and said "Yokai!"
"I'm serious about this."
"I will respond to the Americans as needed," Rory said. "And if they do anything stupid… well, I can only hope that they learned their lesson at Hakone. I would hate to fight another battle as boring as that one."