Chapter 19: Upset

08:01; 4th July; 1648; Testament Era

Quasi-Bahamut Class Aerial City-Ship "Musashi" – "Tama" 1st Dock – Kraken Class Warship "Mirai" – Upper Deck

Malga doodled on her author interface while the proceedings continued on toward departure for the meeting with the COG – a few ideas currently in mind for further doujinshi, all of them involving the big-breasted Tomo Asuma who in her best formal wear stood by Masazumi down there in the docks just beyond the diplomatic ship's hull, though an idea involving the dark-haired Vice President and the very luscious Kimi Aoi who stood close by also hung just off the tip of her fingers. The half-werewolf Nate Mitotsudaira was also present, arms folded defensively while she fended off Kimi's oft shameless remarks, used currently to pass the time.

It would be quite a show, as the three would all participate as bodyguards. And in the process show off their mighty bouncy assets for all the world – or at least the local area – to behold.

She who would act as backup alongside her beloved Margot and Adele – just in case something went pear-shaped – just barely restrained herself from gushing at the erotic inspirations that piled up in her mind as she processed that. Oh~ I can't wait!

The diplomatic team itself would be composed of Masazumi and Futayo – the latter of whom currently boarded the ship elegantly – along with Toori and Horizon, decked in their best clothes.

Malga grimaced at the collective horror expressed by the class upon the bombshell Masazumi dropped on them, that they have little choice this time but to have the President participate. The point was well-made, but it did not make the situation any more attractive. For the last couple of days Masazumi and Tomo did their best to make sure Toori realized how important it will be to keep proper tact and forbearance in mind. Horizon presently observed as the Vice President handed him yet another lecture, a reminder that no matter what he does, he must not undress or walk naked in public space – something he was of late prone to. Some among the people of Musashi had the sense of humor to think that funny, but she doubted the COG would.

"Malga," said her beautiful lover as she came and leaned to look over her shoulder, "isn't that bust a little bit off the mark?"

"It's an embellishment. An embellishment to draw attention." Malga hummed with glee.

Margot nodded airily, "Given that it's Tomo..."

The dark-haired angel chuckled and sang, "I like big breasts and I can not lie~ It's something I can't deny~"

"I heard you!" Tomo abruptly yelled up at them, and managed it in a manner that was not at all undignified, "Please stop using me for your material!"

"Nu-uh." she smirked friendlily but unashamedly, "You got a body the world needs to see!" until the Miko abruptly unfolded her bow and anticipatively threw herself out of the way, for the first few paces on all four much to Margot's amusement.

"Stop it..." Masazumi's voice was not raised beyond that of a tired drawl yet still reached them, "You can turn her into a pincushion later... For now we got to get moving."

"Oh~ did you just crack an actual functional joke?" Toori quipped cheerfully, grinning stupidly, "You've been practicing I can tell."

She did not rise to the bait and only gave the idiotic male a frown, "Do I need to say it twice, Toori?"

"Not at all." his smile remained as he held out his arm for Horizon to curl her own arm around, but managed instead to grab the automaton's right breast, received a punch that would have floored almost any other person but seemed to be halfway lost on Toori who as if on second thoughts went on to correct the arm to a more appropriate position.

Horizon retracted her fist and with an idle look of satisfaction finally wrapped the arm around his, and they walked up the ramp together like nothing happened. But as Malga thought the exchange was done, something else was added to it. "Hey old man, you wanna tag along?" Toori blurted out with his flair of interruption of procedure as he stopped and looked back at the dock as an old man approached. It was the Principal himself.

"I was only going to wish you the best of luck, but if it's the same to you," Tadatsugu Sakai replied as he came with a distant smile, "I could use a few hours with solid ground under my feet."

"Um," Masazumi glared at Toori before she settled on the aging man, "I don't think now's the proper time."

"Why not?" the boy interrupted her, "Come along, come along. The more the merrier!" and laughed as he and Horizon continued on their way and left his classmates to their incredulous exchange of looks.

All present simply stared at the cheerful Toori as he withdrew into the vessel's interior, high in spirit as always. It sounded like a perfectly harmless whim, but given it was Toori's... Malga, and everyone else for that matter, could not help but get a bad feeling about the whole thing. Masazumi opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, and closed it. She was at a momentary loss of words as she very obviously tried to gleam into whatever reason Toori had before she decided to brush it aside. That way lead to madness. "Well, um, I guess having a faculty observer along wouldn't hurt."

"If it's too much trouble, I can wait for a better time." Tadatsugu smiled patiently.

"It's..." Masazumi paused, then bowed, "It's not a problem. Y-you're more than welcome."

The principal nodded friendlily in due turn, "Thank you for having me then, Vice President."

"J-jud." she replied, then blinked as Tomo received a divine correspondence from Tenzou – who probably thought Masazumi was preoccupied and brought himself to the attention of the priestess. Malga could not hear what he said, but the reason for the call was obvious. Tomo thanked the ninja quietly and nodded confirmingly to the Vice President before they boarded the vessel.

Malga felt the warship lurch into motion as it away from the dock and built up a lead, the diplomatic vessel quick to follow suit once the last few had boarded. "Let's get below deck." Margot addressed her softly, "Class is going to start soon."

"Okay~" she dismissed the interface with a wave and rose to her feet with a couple of steadying beats of her wings. With a bit of a sultry grin, she snaked an arm round Margot's as they otherwise dutifully went down to the ship's meeting room where those of Class 3-Plum on board would spend the next couple of hours.

08:21 – 14 A.E.

Char – Griffin Tower – Panorama

When he first saw the ship used by Musashi's dignitaries back in Tuktu, Griffin had admittedly been astounded. But beyond its otherworldly qualities, bulk, and sheer angularity it seemed so ridiculously simplistic and benign the whole thing failed to look real. More like a ghostly mirage than a ship. So much so that he expected never to be intimidated by its like.

And that was what he wholly thought he would soon see when sentries suddenly burst into his office and in a panicky manner cried about airship sightings. Weak-minded cowards he considered them being as he picked up the cane, adjusted his jacket, and went on out in full expectation to host a visit and issue a welcome. He did after all extend the invitation to that chick, Gin, via transponder some several days past.

Everywhere his people scurried in barely restrained anxiety, and he mentally scoffed at them as he picked a place in the panorama and called in clear authority for them to get their collective shit together before he went on to look for the oh so frightening airships... and found them.

Bring it on... Griffin had thought. He put up his straightest facade of nonchalance to show there was nothing to be intimidated about.

He was wrong.

Dead wrong.

Griffin felt his strong jaw loosen, and sweat ran thickly behind the abruptly thin veneer of calm like a rain of bullets at the sight before them. Above the carpet of dead spires there traveled a dominantly crimson-colored battle group where each component airship drop-kicked out the window and country both the slightest pretense of peaceable intentions. Each of them visibly and ominously heavily armed and armored, but none of them even close to the hulking monstrosity that traveled at the very center.

Over three times the size of the second largest vessel, it sported several masts and a similar number of cannons on both its back and belly of such size that Griffin suspected he could climb into one of those barrels and still have much room to spare. More than enough to turn his tower into rubble in a single volley.

Then they all lurched toward the tower as though aware of the attention, and Griffin found himself barely able to maintain a calm composure. All of the smaller ships fanned out while the battleship – that was the only classification he found appropriate for its like – closed in in a menacing manner and became steadily bigger in his view. Once halfway to his location, the battleship turned to offer its side to the tower and provided an all too terrifying scene as every barrel swung this way warningly.

Among his people, only the staunchest managed to stay while all the rest fled back inside like it would make a lick of a difference. If those on board that thing decided to do a full broadside this close, no amount of concrete, metal, and wood would prevent an immediate cessation of existence. It was that certainty that kept him rooted firmly to the ground. He was frightened all the way from here to hell, but not prone to irrational fits of panic.

After several suspenseful moments, the massive ship arrived and dropped just low enough to put on display the people who had assembled on its upper deck. First he noticed the lines of crimson-clothed and armed guardsmen, and only belatedly did his attention fall on a comparatively diminutive form who stood in front of them all, a bespectacled old man dressed in a uniform similar to the rest that was further embellished by a comparatively simple fur coat. His expression a mild one.

"Mr. Griffin, I presume?" the old man addressed him, the contrast between him and his ride so enormous it took the Stranded a moment to compose himself.

"Yeah, that's me." Griffin replied and switched his cane from one hand and to the other, "Who's asking?"

"Felipe Segundo," he replied with a nod, "Chancellor of Tres España's Alacá de Henares' Ruling Council." as he now approached and passed the gulf between the ship and tower in a single small stride – followed closely by a strong-armed man who curiously carried a large metal bat in one hand with practiced dexterity, "And this is Takakane Hironaka, Vice Chancellor. I hope we did not come at a bad time."

In other words, his second contact with these Tres Españians wound up being with their highest authority. Griffin was surprised as he fully expected Gin to be the contact this time around as well, but recovered quickly enough as he held out a hand. "There is no problem. I was starting to wonder when you would come over."

"And come over, we have." Takakane put up a strong smile as he shook the proffered hand once Felipe had done so, "I'm surprised anyone would choose to live here."

"This place here is our town, and this tower is the HQ of the Griffin Imulsion Corporation." Griffin returned with equal strength now that he had people to focus on again rather than the gigantic barrels still arrayed, "Here, we've weathered the war. It was our home before the whole mess, and it's still our home now – no matter how bad it gets."

"I understand." the man replied and tilted the helmet to shroud his eyes in a way of apology, "Meant no disrespect."

Griffin motioned to smooth it over, "No offense taken. How about we go to my office?"

"Yes, that might be best." Felipe seemed to welcome it, "We got some business to cover regarding the information you shared."

"Right this way." he like a good host would waved and made a show of trust by dismissing his guards before he led them on, and parted the crowd inside himself as they went. Deep inside though, he could not help but smirk. If he can get people with that kind of firepower on his side, the war he envisioned would be as good as won.

08:29; 4th July; 1648; Testament Era

Char – Griffin Tower – Main Office

While he disapproved of Takakane's rude outburst, Felipe could not help but agree. In terms of habitability, this place was worse off than Anvil Gate, comparatively speaking that is. Soot permeated almost everything but Griffin himself, all of his people almost invariably bedraggled and filthy. A place covered in a near impossible to remove layer of ash and dust was hardly a good place for a settlement.

Maybe the reason why these people survived. 'Nobody would ever live here' the locust probably concluded if they ever spared the place a look.

As one could safely expect by a look at the leader, the office of his was one of the few clean locations here. "Here we are. Go ahead and take a seat." Griffin offered as he pointed his cane to a couple of nearby leather-bound chairs that from the looks of it used to be pretty luxurious as he went and took his own seat beyond his equally old mahogany desk, "I must admit. For several days on end I waited for an answer and thought it would come from that chi-." Griffin stopped himself and rewinded, "Excuse me." he coughed, "I thought it would come from Lady Gin."

"Given the scale of your claims," Felipe paid the misstep no mind and adjusted his spectacles as he got himself seated. Takakane on the other hand remained standing. "it should not come as a surprise. Our relationship with Musashi is admittedly rather strained, but the reality that you described to our 3rd Special Agent has proven rather difficult to believe."

"She said that too. Something to that effect." the local boss said as he hefted the cane and patted it against the palm of his free hand, "How is it so difficult to believe?"

He scratched his head, "You spoke of a massacre. Care to elaborate?"

Griffin tilted his head and looked nowhere in particular like he just heard a sharp sound, puzzled, "Ain't much more I can say about that whole ugly business other than that it started as an attempt to resist Musashi's imperialistic advance by force of arms. But Musashi sent two warships and kicked the poor folks' collective teeth in. No boat was left unsunk, sent to the bottom of the sea with nealy all hands."

"And that is what sounds so unbelievable." Takakane muttered.

"Excuse me?" Griffin hissed, formality momentarily dropped, "Got a whole slew of the survivors on the way to Endeavor Naval Shipyards. Ask them if you don't believe me!"

"Not exactly that." Felipe interjected mildly, a brow creased in thought, "The point of contention is that you claimed Musashi dispatched warships. In our last encounter, they possessed nothing of the kind. Certainly none worthy of the name."

Takakane rejoined, "Likewise, it is hard to believe those runts would so suddenly embark on such expansionism."

"Aren't you at odds with them?" Griffin reclined in his chair and stared, "What's your beef for you to think so damned highly of them?"

"Aside from a couple of points of contention... Not much else than for their possession of two Logismoi Óplo."

The man blinked confusedly, "Logis- what now?"

"Mortal Sins Armaments." Felipe translated, "Not much need to be said except they are capable of destruction on a large scale."

"Bombs?"

He shrugged, "Tools."

"The Olos Phtonos and the Lype Katathlipse." the Vice Chancellor called them by name, "Leaving us with the Akedia Katathlipse, which they also wish to steal from us."

"Fancy names." Griffin threw up his hands, cane and all, deflated from the looks of it, "So where does that leave us?"

Felipe closely observed as the Stranded leader slumped at the prospect of this effort to find much-needed allies turned fruitless in a manner too genuine to be fake. With some satisfaction of finding no deception on that front, he belatedly nodded, "We cannot simply throw ourselves into fire and war on a whim at present. What we need is hard evidence, proof that Musashi has gone off the bend and need to be dealt with. To that end we sent Gin on a fact-finding mission."

The comprehension was immediate, "So you're investigating?"

"Whether one or both of your claims are true or false, we need the data before we make a final decision. For that, we need your cooperation."

"And you' will have it. A good nudge in the right direction." Griffin nodded his head as he leaned to the side and pulled open a drawer, from where he produced an old map and unfolded it onto the desk, large enough to cover most of the wooden surface. "For reasons you can imagine I can't point out all the settlements out there."

"I understand. But we only need to know the location of the massacre and a hot spot."

"Easy enough." the Stranded leader stabbed a finger at a small isle and put a name to it, "Valesland island. That's where the 'fight' took place. Most of the ships and bodies are still in the water, though, so it's ain't a pretty sight."

Takakane let out an undignified snort, "In this whole world I've yet to see much of one."

"Touché." he shrugged, "As for the hot spot, right now there's no better place to look than Vectes over yonder." and pointed at one of the larger islands. "There are three settlements on that patch of ground. All of them under Musashi's sway. That's where them COG went."

Interest took Felipe and he leaned slightly forward, "What should we expect to see on the island?"

"A downtrodden bunch of Stranded. A COG enclave who survived the war, but is now under pressure to produce food along with increased dependency on Musashi's technical skills. As for the Coalition, on the surface everything looks as fine as one can suspect under the circumstances... You got to read between the lines on that one, so to say."

The Chancellor considered the information, "I see, thank you for your cooperation. Takakane, would you inform Gin of what we have learned here?"

"Tes." the Vice Chancellor nodded as he took a picture of Griffin's map and marked the locations indicated in this exchange before he opened the chat – which appearance interrupted the Stranded CEO for a moment – and attached the image.

It took a fair few seconds for the man to find his voice again, "So how long do we have to wait for the girl to find the goods and call back?"

"No more than a few hours I believe, given the distances involved." Felipe provided the rough estimate as he stood and brushed some dust off his clothes, "That being said, I suggest we adjourn for now."

"All in for that." Griffin agreed as he too stood and weighed the cane in anticipation, "We'll be having lunch shortly. Want some?"

"We'd be horrible guests if we rejected your hospitality out of hand..." he hummed to himself before Takakane could even think to refuse the offer, the Vice Chancellor's horrified expression easy to gleam past the veneer of professional disinterest. "So what's on the menu?"

08:40; 4th July; 1648; Testament Era

Lesser Islands – Kraken Class Warship Halcón – Bridge

[Elmo]: You mean there's a ship graveyard loaded with piles of water-logged corpses over there? Yuck... Not my idea of a vista...

[Younger Sister's Older Brother]: Not a place one would want to be in a dark and gloomy night for sure. But it could be worse... there could be ghosts.

[Elmo]: Gah! Say no more! I don't want to think about it!

[Track and Field Woman]: Wow, it is almost like you aren't already associating with two ghosts on a near daily basis.

[Younger Sister's Older Brother]: Don't be angry! I'm certain she meant the vengeful kind... honest!

[Track and Field Woman]: And... how about yourself?

[Younger Sister's Older Brother]: I'm sorry! Please don't sic the Michiyukibyakko on me!

Pad guessed he came at a good time considering the abrupt chat traffic. He came to lean on the backrest of Gin's chair as he in a burst of curiosity read its contents and found himself slightly amused. Gin however – being her usual stoic self – paid little attention as she gazed hard upon a sign frame that contained a map, with particular focus against the specific region they have entered the outskirts of... where a couple of dots had been placed.

"Got some new info?" he asked.

"Tes." was Gin's dry reply and pointed at the nearest of the two with a huge synthetic index finger, "According to the new intel, that is where the Stranded rather foolishly attempted to battle Musashi. This on the other hand..." then moved it to the dot most distant, "is the Coalition's current location."

His mood managed to both darken and lighten at once, the product of a mixture of relief and unease. It still sounded unreal that the Coalition's under the thumb of a foreign power. "Truly?"

"Only one way to know for sure." the woman nodded and gestured to pass the information on, "Helmsman, signal the flotilla and advance to the coordinates I'm giving you now."

"What about the closer location?" Pad asked bemusedly, surprised that her desire to see the COG mirrored his own exactly. Still, they were supposed to check both of the listed locations. Pad watched the display as the helmsman plotted a course, one that strangely veered as though to swing around an obstacle... An oddity he chose not to comment on.

Gin creased a brow in such a manner that made her look distinctly annoyed in spite of her otherwise unflappable expression, "Call the San Marteo and have it ready a Mechanical Phoenix with scout package and dispatch it to the battle site. I want a general footage of the area and close pictures of the wreckage. We won't wait around, so it has to catch up afterward."

"Mechanical Phoenix?" he queried.

"Fixed wing aircraft."

"Why do you even bother with such a unit," Pad found himself argue as old memories prodded at him, "when you have those nifty El Azul?"

She seemed perplexed by the question, "Because they perform well at each their designated roles. Why?"

"For the same reason that the Coalition discontinued the use of fixed wing combat aircraft. Because their roles are too limited for how expensive they are to build and maintain. Rather they focused on rotary craft such as the ubiquitous King Raven." He nodded sagely, "Much prized for their sturdiness and flexibility."

"You sound like a commercial." Gin remarked dryly.

Pad blinked, and laughed uproariously, "Hah, I guess so."

"Mechanical Phoenix designated Estoque One has taken off from the San Marteo." the communications officer reported through the native's laughter in a timely manner, "En route now to target coordinates."

At the sight of being so unaffected, unfazed by her own joke, the man turned away and chortled even harder. She rolled her eyes at him and responded, "Tes."

12:26; 4th July; 1648; Testament Era

Lesser Islands – Vectes – Kraken Class Warship "Mirai" – Upper Deck

"All things considered, I believe there won't be a problem."

Malga agreed with Margot's assessment as she in a state of idleness watched a wing of primitive rotorcraft pass by some two hundred feet out, one of five squadrons that currently 'escorted' the Mirai – though mostly to lend assurance to the populace of New Jacinto that could very clearly see the ship hover placidly in place over Vectes' long dead volcano, from where it watched over Toori and the others who because of last moment arrangements were redirected to Pelruan where a motorcade waited to transport them to New Jacinto proper.

It was obvious from the start in Malga's mind about the intent behind these measures. Assurance to the populace that in spite of the unknowns they now faced the Coalition remained in full control of the situation, and that they would face these unknowns on nothing less than equal ground.

As scheduled, the motorcade arrived at New Jacinto to the tune of the Coalition's National Anthem and drove in a steady procession through a cleared road lined with soldiers at attention... and massed crowds of people curious about the visitors. This continued without incident until they arrived at what was designated the Admiralty House, where a somewhat ragged red carpet had been rolled out – at the end of which Chairman Prescott stood with his Command Staff, ready to receive.

12:30 –14th A.E.

Lesser Islands – Vectes – New Jacinto

Hoffman watched with wrapped attention as the motorcade made its belated arrival. First a trio of Armadillos that served as the vanguard, followed by a quartet of packhorses that stopped one by one at the red carpet to let their passengers, the foreign dignitaries, disembark. He checked his mental list as they emerged.

First to emerge were a pair of young guards clad in colorful armor, each of them carrying rifles so slight in build that Hoffman wondered if they were strictly ceremonial. In their wake, the first dignitary emerged. A young woman with strange golden eyes and a silvery mane gigantic beyond belief styled into huge ringlets that not once fell out of order as she disembarked. She was otherwise clad in what seemed a largely ornamental uniform that hugged her figure tightly without any apparent discomfort on her person. From the citizen who beheld her, there was a general roar of awe at her ostentatious appearance.

With flair she quietly took up position with the guards on one side of the carpet without as much as a look toward her audience.

From the next vehicle there came no guards. Instead it was the Vice President herself, Masazumi Honda, who emerged into the light. She was followed by a taller blue-haired woman who was clad in a variety of their formal – skin-tight – uniform that had a suit of armor integrated into it. According to the list, that's the Vice Chancellor, Futayo Honda. Masazumi was in every way the politician… but her relative, on the other hand, seemed to be every bit the warrior in the way she carried herself – her stance and expression disciplined and severe. Hoffman caught her eye for just a second and knew at once that she was no stranger to combat.

Both stood aside as the third packhorse came along and released its contents. First to emerge from this one was a beauty whose poise and her utterly flawless crystal-white mane made many hearts skip a beat. Her regalia was formal and somewhat simple, but it enhanced her beauty rather than detract it. If his guess was correct, this woman's the Sovereign of Musashi: Horizon Ariadust.

Following her however was an idiot, an impression Hoffman got before he could stop himself. A boy who while dressed right for the occasion wore a smile that bordered on the side of silly.

"Really… this is their head of state?" Bernie whispered in vague disbelief.

"Chancellor and President, Toori Aoi." Hoffman whispered back, unable to contain that of his own, "He fits the description."

"Unbelievable."

Finally, the fourth packhorse came. From it two more guards emerged who quickly took up position, along with the final set of dignitaries. First to emerge was the very first elder Hoffman has so far seen from Musashi. A tall old man who looked rather laid-back yet watched the proceedings attentively.

Far more attention was given to those that followed him though. A pair of women so shapely beyond belief that they for a moment caused a moment of complete silence as men and women alike simply stared open-mouthed in abject disbelief. The brunette of the two whose mane was a match for the silver-haired woman's treated the attention with a wave and a daring smile, prompting a massed holler from the male portion of the audience.

"Men..." Bernie intoned what was probably said by every other female in sight.

If Anya was here, she'd utter the same thing, Hoffman imagined.

Now fully gathered, they marched up to the Chairman who spread his arms to finally welcome them.

"Welcome, our honored guests, to New Jacinto, Capital of the Coalition of Ordered Governments." Prescott beamed, his voice magnified by the microphone placed upon the podium in front of him, "It is a most auspi-"

Something happened then that no one foresaw. Toori suddenly picked up the microphone, then with his free hand reached for Prescott's arm and jerked it up and down in an exaggerated fashion and at a speed Hoffman was sure broke the speed limit on handshakes – if one ever existed. "Thank you, thank you. Happy to be here, Chairman of the COG!"

Hoffman struggled against the notion, but he found Prescott's utterly gobsmacked expression… exhilarating.

"First I would like to say that it sounds funny for there to be a coalition of just one government, but I digress." Toori continued with a goofy grin to the horror of the bulk of his compatriots, "Toori Aoi, that is me. Chancellor and President of the Musashi Protectorate, and I bid you welcome in due turn. We came here over land and sea, through the air and across ground. And I'll let you know that the jumpy ride in your whatchamacallit cars over yonder caused great leaps in particular parts of my dear's nice body!"

"Pig." Horizon dryly remarked.

"And proud of it." the idiot boy's smile grew wider, accepting the insult as if it was the highest of praise, "We went through all of that to come and see you, our new neighbors in this sad and ravaged world that has had so much stolen from it but the pain. A situation so much akin to the suffering that my dearest Horizon went, and am still going through. Someone stole all of her emotions you see, tore out parts of her soul to turn whole weapons of war. Left her a hollow shell of her former self, unable to feel, to laugh nor to weep."

"We're on a trip to reclaim her emotions, and we are still on that journey. We managed to reclaim a portion of it recently, upon which Horizon wept for the first time in years. She feels doubt now, doubt and sadness, but little else. We will continue forward so she may one day be released from that pain, that emptiness. And once that's done, and she gets back everything stolen from her, there will be nothing else to do but to have fun."

Toori halted in his impromptu speech for a moment and beheld an utterly silent crowd. Thousands of people surrounded them, yet no one made a noise. Hoffman was forced to confront the fact that though stupid-looking, he had quite the charisma. "Her situation is much like yours." the boy continued, "Everything was taken from you, and for many years you have hung in a squalor, in an empty void of sadness. Let us thus make this vow, in this hour, that we journey forth side by side to reclaim what was lost."

"So how about it, people of the COG, of the Stranded, and all else out there?" he called out cheerfully, "Let us forge ahead without fear, so we may be be merry once again, and have loads and loads of fun together!"

And with a final gesture, he placed the microphone back onto the podium, his smile that brimmed with such easygoing confidence still present.

For a moment stillness remained… then came what was at first scattered applause that surprisingly turned within moments into a thunderous standing ovation. Hoffman had a feeling that most of them were confused by the tale the boy put forth, but in the end they still clapped their hands heartily with much cheer.

Prescott remained in position with his shock of an expression for a couple moments longer, but joined in the applause. Hoffman followed suit if with less energy.

"He's got quite the mouth at least, I got to say." Bernie said, nodding at the boy with some measure of approval.

"That he has." the Colonel curtly agreed, though not sure what to make of the boy's story about the theft of his girlfriend's emotions. No one probably did.

Within a few further seconds, Prescott made for a full recovery and held his arms out with a declaration, "I thank you on the behalf of the Coalition for your words of encouragement, Chancellor and President Toori Aoi. Much can there be said of how deep one can fall, yet there is always a way to climb back up. Now, for this auspicious day, for the future we will build, for our enduring friendship, I propose a feast. A day of celebration!"

And the cheer that was in the air grew all the greater.

12:46; 4th July; 1648; Testament Era

Lesser Islands – Vectes – Kraken Class Warship "Mirai" - Upper Deck

[Maru-ga]: I… I didn't think Toori had it in him.

[Poker Face]: Tell me about it.

[Vice President]: Almost had a heart attack… I'm glad he managed to hit all the right keys. So much could have gone wrong.

[Tobacco Woman]: Speaking of wrong, how's the poll?

[Vice President]: Poll? What poll?

[Scarred]: I would likewise like to know.

[Novice]: A poll for the Stranded clans. They're watching what's going on closely, you know. Wanted to know their opinion on Toori.

[Maru-ga]: What was the result?

[Novice]: Considering the sheer positivity of the response… I'm given to understand that the Stranded now worship the ground Toori treads on for having the guts to cut off and humiliate the Chairman of the COG to his face.

[10-ZO]: As expected, one can say.

[Vice President]: …

Malga shared the sentiment as she logged off and watched the festivities now in full swing.

13:24 – 14 A.E.

Lesser Islands – Vectes – New Jacinto

It didn't take long for the party to get started, however poor on resources it was. And though the food served was no greater than the usual, the public mood was greatly lifted. Call him a fool, but Toori's cheerful speech struck precious heartstring. Where formerly grimness and the importance of order and unity played a central role in public speeches, he dared to be a comedian cheering people on about happiness and hope for the future.

Bernie could not deny how greatly the people formerly of Jacinto appreciated that as she paced among them with a mug of Sunshine she got from Dizzy at the sergeant mess.

Only thing that did not look so good was how isolated the Musashi folks wound up from the populace. Some kids easily approached Toori whose antics greatly amused them – though not so much for Prescott who struggled to stay on the level, clearly at his wits end. Otherwise, almost no one aside from highly ranked officials interacted with the newcomers.

Far as Bernie could see, it was caused by the vast difference in appearance. Compared to the oft filthy and malnourished people who now made up most of the Coalition, the incredibly resplendent, dignified and almost preternaturally healthy Musashi folks appeared akin to demigods. It made personal contact… difficult to say the least.

"Let's see if I can't do something about that." Bernie said confidently to herself and moved on to rejoin the congregation that was packed before the Admiralty House before a certain blonde woman surfaced from the crowd to the left of her, "Anya?"

"Bernie, could you come with me for a second?"

"If it's about getting close to them and ask for Marcus and the others, I'm sorry but-"

"I know." Anya sighed, "I know. It's something else. Come."

Nodding, Bernie followed her away from the Admiralty House and through the hundreds of partying people who were between them and the Vehicle Compound where she saw Jace and Sam argue with one another about the packhorse next to them. "What seems to be the problem here?" she asked of them and Anya.

Both Sam and Jace stood aside to give them room, "Just some wild tale. There's no bloody way that could have happened, Jace."

"I know what I heard, Sam." Jace protested.

"Be quiet for a bit, guys. Bernie, look here." Anya instructed as she pulled the backdoor open and gestured toward the nearest front seat.

Bernie, slightly confused, looked inside and wondered what she was supposed to look for when her gaze fell onto the handhold that was on the front seat's back. It looked like it had been crushed and bent out of shape. "A handhold's broken." she looked between them, "What about it?"

"It's the doing of that girl with that huge silver mane.." Jace stated firmly, "We hit a big bump on our way back and she… got startled and gripped the everloving shit out of it."

"Which is impossible." Sam shrugged, "It's a metal bar."

"That was what I thought, until I fitted it into the palm of my hand." Anya argued in Jace's defense, "Bernie, try doing the same."

With a frown on her face, Bernie put her left hand onto the handhold and let some disbelief color her expression as she very clearly felt the hand-shaped indentations.

Anya pressed on, "Do you feel it?"

"Yes… I do." Bernie furrowed her brows as she withdrew her hand and stared long and hard at the crushed metal bar.

"If she could do that to a metal bar," Jace argued, "imagine what a human arm would look like if given the same treatment."

She frowned, "Would be bad, like getting caught by a berserker, but I can't quite reconcile this sight with that delicate-looking girl's appearance. How in the world can a human being possibly cause this kind of damage?"

"Don't know about that." Anya folded her arms sternly, "I just know there's something unusual about her… and possibly with all the rest of them."

Sam still seemed dubious, but threw in her piece anyway, "If this isn't some kind of old damage, what do we do about it?"

"Nothing." Bernie scratched her chin thoughtfully, "Not anywhere close to now in any case, given the ongoing celebration. Let us just keep an eye on them, and be ready to act if something untoward happen."

14:01; 4th July; 1648; Testament Era

Lesser Islands – Vectes – New Jacinto – Admiralty House

Given ample time to recover from the shock of what happened during the ceremony, Masazumi finally managed to find it in herself to breathe easy. From the start she was worried that Toori would pull something… fortunately he somehow managed to pull it off instead. A great improvement over that love confession he somehow managed to transform into a declaration to conquer the world.

Glass of water in hand, she leaned against the chair she was given and looked on as her comrades interacted with the COG officials. There weren't much of it, though, as each conversation was careful and guarded. Mostly they just exchanged platitudes. She supposed it was a matter of course, really. Far more military-minded than the Stranded, they cautiously attempted to learn more about Musashi without being intrusive – consequently making the whole thing awkward.

The only exception was the energetic if one-sided interaction between Prescott, and Toori who was halfway busy entertaining the kids who managed to dare approach. Horizon on her side was mostly silent.

She on her side was approached a couple of times. One of them by a Major Aleksander Reid who tried to offer her a mug of what appeared to be home made beverage. An offer she politely declined due in large part to her dislike of alcoholic drinks and the possibility that he probably wanted to try and loosen her lips through intoxication.

It was also implied that he wasn't popular among the COG's top brass as the Colonel, for one, sent him away from her with a harsh glare.

As a result she mostly remained in the background of this venture, until Prescott finally decided to excuse himself from Toori's side and in turn approached her.

"You did well to put up with him for so long, Chairman." Masazumi said before he could say anything. She did not directly gesture to the neighboring chair, nevertheless it was implied.

Prescott scratched the back of his head as he in a fit of mental exhaustion took the seat, "Must be hard on you… to have such a leader."

"You have no idea."

"How do you deal with that?"

Masazumi hummed, "We sometimes stuff him in the nearest closet, for instance."

"What," Prescott boggled, "really? Doesn't he..."

"Get angry?" she shook her head, "No, he's pretty cool about it. His funny man's ability provide him with increased survivability against attacks inflicted by females – who make up the bulk of those who punish him – anyway."

The Chairman very apparently did not know what to make of that, "Sounds... like something Hoffman would have found useful."

"Are you implying something, Chairman?" the Colonel barked from across the area.

"Not at all!" Prescott hollered back in faint sing-song.

"In any case," Masazumi said, "he can't be angry anymore. He's got us to do that for him."

He turned back to her, all the more confused, "He can't get angry… What does that even mean?"

"Don't think too hard on it and what he's said. You'll blow a fuse."

"Ah yes, speaking of the speech. I was rather incredulous about the details of it." Prescott looked deep in thought, "All of that about your sovereign losing her emotions to empower weapons...that you're trying to get those emotions back."

"Reality can be stranger than fiction." Masazumi took a sip from the glass of water. Most of these people appeared to more take the spirit of Toori's speech rather than its contents. That was probably a good thing. "However, it's nothing you need concern yourself with."

Prescott appeared somewhat dubious, which made the Vice President decide it was time to change tack.

She brought up the chat, which firmly caught the Chairman's sidelong attention.

[Vice President]: How many of them are still watching?

[Novice]: Fewer than before, I think, but every leader's keeping a hawkish eye on things as they go.

[Vice President]: Good.

"What was that about?" Prescott was very obviously fascinated, but set clear priorities that made him go to the very crux.

Masazumi waved the chat away, and answered frankly: "While the Stranded are powerless as a faction, they hold a voice within the Protectorate. As a condition for allowing us to meet with you, we have let them keep a keen eye on the proceedings. Partly because I promised to ask you about certain things that none of them have ever been in position to."

"Keep an eye on… how?" Prescott's eyes darted about.

"Through terminals like the one you used to contact us. We have basically given them permission to look over our shoulders, so to speak, for the duration of this venture."

"I see. And… what are those questions?"

"Hmm." Masazumi put the glass down and folded her arms, "The worldwide bombardment you subjected the world to, the Hammer Strikes. Was such an extreme measure truly necessary?"

"Should have expected that to be in the forefront of every mind out there." Prescott adopted a solemn expression and slumped forward so his elbows came to rest on his knees as he stared straight ahead, making him suddenly seem older than he was. "Not like I could have expected any different. What I did was monstrous, but I never committed to it in a fit of pique, selfishness, or cowardice."

Masazumi was silent, she merely watched and listened.

"Many would argue that I had no idea what it was like on the ground in those times as people desperately tried to cross any amount of ground to reach Jacinto before I unleashed the Hammer of Dawn. But on the flip side they had no idea what it was like to be in my position… they did not know what I knew of the world situation."

"I watched the obliteration of an entire world. Of the death of entire countries. Cities and countrysides that were being swept clean of human life by the Locust Horde's relentless advance. I watched as the bastards took over our industrial centers, our weapon depots, and anything else they got their hands on, and put them to use. I had access to all casualty statistics, and knew how many we lost… and how fast the numbers piled up from a day to day basis."

"I watched the Coalition our forebears worked so hard to build fracture and shatter into individual states that fought only to protect themselves. I tried everything to make them see that this was not about the survival of individual nation states, but the survival of the human race! I tried everything to cobble together a unified defense, and every resource we'd need to launch a worldwide counteroffensive against the Hollows, from where the creatures emerged!"

"I tried everything to get leaders across the globe to go through with this, but they almost all as one refused, and preserved their weapons of mass destruction for what was seen as the inevitable end game."

"They gave up, Vice President. They let the Locust pick us apart one by one. Only the South Islands offered to provide for a counteroffensive. An appreciated gesture, but nowhere enough. And as the Locust started to mass toward Jacinto Plateau, which was the only place they could not dig through, I had to face reality and act accordingly."

"The extinction of the human race was imminent, just a few months away. Everything, all the information I had accumulated from battlefields and disaster areas across the globe, pointed to that singular fact. The only way to prevent it was to take the most extreme measures possible. I called the most relevant people to my side, whose names I will not disclose at this time, and told them my plan. To deploy our entire arsenal, our every weapon of mass destruction, in the greatest area and resource denial strike in human history!"

"It was also the most morally repugnant. The attack was formulated to be utterly indiscriminate, designed to strike every Locust infested area outside the Jacinto Plateau, and destroy all possible resources we wouldn't be able to secure afterward. We provided only three days for people to evacuate… in order to maximize Locust casualties, to not give them time to discover what was about to happen."

"And it all culminated in that final moment when I stood in front of that button and pressed it with all the weight of my regret, my bitterness, my impotent rage at what drove us to such desperation, with a pathetic plea for forgiveness on my lips. I pressed it, and watched Sera burn."

"I killed millions of our people as a consequence… and millions of Locust aside. I robbed them of everything they've plundered to that point, tore every industry from their grasp. All of what they gained over a year of genocidal total war I reduced to ashes in an instant."

"The attack caught them flatfooted, and killed every last Locust on the surface."

"It was a measure taken when the only other option was to roll over and succumb. A move costly beyond measure, but snatched victory from the jaws of defeat, and allowed us to turn Jacinto into a fortress from which we plotted for a way to annihilate the Locust, to destroy them all."

"But while I acknowledge the horrible thing I did, I now also feel vindication."

"How?" Masazumi asked, her heart bleeding at the pained emotions that poured from the Chairman as he laid bare the events of all those years ago. Whether this was partly a play on his side, at the very least he spoke well. "How do you feel vindication in the wake of what you carried out?"

"All I need to do is stand up." Prescott did indeed stand up, his lips trembling as he gazed upon the sea of people, "See what lies before me, and recognize the single fruit borne from the horrible atrocity I committed and all our efforts afterward:"

"The human race… still lives!"

Silence reigned for several heartfelt moments afterward, his impromptu if low-voiced speech having caught the attention of every officer along with all of her entourage. No one spoke, no one added to the chat, and there was no indication of any protest or accusation from the Stranded who beheld the scene from far away. Masazumi did not know if this would at all affect the opinion of those who survived the Hammer Strikes, but now they knew what they previously didn't. For now that would have to be enough.

14:20; 4th July; 1648; Testament Era

Lesser Islands – on approach to Vectes – Kraken Class Warship Halcón – Bridge

Gin watched the island spread before her on the display, and with a single prompt focused upon its absurdly populous naval base, and the highly illegal makeshift battleship that hovered idly over its volcano. Just with a look she knew Musashi already got a presence within the base, and zoomed in close enough to view an ongoing audience where a number of Musashi's Student Council and Chancellor's Board had gathered. She did not look too deeply into what was going on.

Instead her attention was entirely focused upon the presence of Futayo Honda. A sight that made her blood turn cold as ice.

"So… is it true?" Pad asked cautiously as he stared at the highly armed ship.

"Testament." Gin confirmed, bias bleeding through, "I for one need no more confirmation than this, to see them so subdued."

She continued in more severe a tone, "So it is up to us to give the Musashi a wake-up call – that Tres España will not let them do as they please. All ships, proceed to combat speed and engage their sorry excuse for a warship."

The communications' officer replied without ado, "Aye ma'am."

"All other assets are to follow me." Gin persisted, "But they are to offer only support."

Pad sounded perplexed by that order, "Why is that?"

She did not offer a reply. Gin only stared upon the image of the accursed Vice Chancellor of Musashi, clenched her jaw, and strode out of the bridge. Whatever happened from here and on, she would have her revenge.

14:24 – 14 A.E.

Char – Griffin Tower

Griffin sat with his face partially buried into his hands as he waited and hoped for what would be to him a favorable outcome of Tres España's investigations. It was an intolerable wait, yet one he had to stay committed to for its duration. Anything else could potentially antagonize a force that got a heavily armed fleet just outside of his comparatively flimsy tower. He waited, and he waited yet further.

Until someone knocked on the door.

"Come on in." Griffin said in as cavalier a manner as he could manage, and watched as one of his subordinates opened the door and let in Felipe and Takakane who in turn walked in, their expressions grim. No matter the outcome of this, he dared not to smile and maintained a mask of gloomy indifference.

He could not deny the tense moment.

"We came here to tell you that as of two minutes ago," Felipe announced in a low tone, "over the island of Vectes, our forces engaged a most illegal warship of Musashi in battle. Mobilize your forces along with every ally. We are now at war, Mr. Griffin, and we had better win it."

Author notes: This was hands down the most difficult chapter I've ever written. No matter how much I twisted and turned it, I simply could not assemble the series of events to my satisfaction. It was only, literally, yesterday that everything suddenly fell into place. Sorry about the wait, and let's see if the next chapter comes out any faster.