Venture Capital I: Skirmishes
Golden Fortress, Training Barracks 3
November 30, 7:45 PM
Orange Star's recruit barracks were divided by squad. Each training squad got their own room with five bunks; men and women were provided separate accommodations if requested, but usually, it wasn't a problem. At this moment, the room assigned to Training Platoon 3, Squad 4 was empty except for one man, Recruit David Carroll, who was sitting on his bunk and staring into space. In his hands were a printout from an e-mail: an excerpt from his brother's final message.
I always knew it was going to end like this for you, Ralphie... was what he wanted to think, but that would just be a delusion. One part of him was still holding out hope that his brother was putting on some weird show to fool Blue Moon into thinking he was dead, because after all, CO-General Nell did say they never found a body, right?
"Just listen to yourself, David. You sound just like Sticks right now."
But he couldn't help it. The other half of him outright blamed the idiot for going along with this. When his brother had become a Breakcom, he'd changed... not completely, but subtly. It was as if he saw the world differently, and not in a good way. His father had told him that war does that kind of thing to people, but his brother had started acting strange far before the military met him... before he ran off without any tears in his eyes. Even that bastard's final message was so detached, so... accepting of his fate.
Hey, David... it's all over for me now. You really didn't have to join the military just to come after me, you know? I hope you think about it a little... and get out if it's not really what you want.
That's one thing that never changed... you always had the wrong idea about me. Mom and Dad served in the Orange Star military, too. Besides, I'm training to be with the Combat Engineers. I wasn't harboring any stupid dreams about talking you out of it or serving under you or anything...
I doubt you'll want to hear about all the ways I might have died, and I really don't have time to explain it all anyways, if you know what I mean. Just please... don't cry for me. And tell Mom and Dad not to cry, too. Tell them to just remember me, okay?
That's nonsense, you bastard. You were able to stop crying when your Break powers showed up. Don't tell other people to do the same like it's so damn simple.
Well, who knows. If there's an afterlife, I'll see you there. If there isn't, then don't worry about it, or if you can't, then just tell yourself there's one. Just don't hold out hope that I'm still alive out there somewhere, because I'm not. Denial really doesn't suit you, David, and I don't want you to throw your life away because of it.
Now you're lecturing me? Shut up. Wasn't I supposed to be the older brother?
You're a moron, Ralphie... such a goddamn moron...
A tear fell, and in a flash, the slideshow that had haunted him for the past few years returned unbidden to David Carroll's eyes. The scared eyes of his father, the soldiers in (black?) stomping along (his road, not theirs!), the gunfire, "Ralphie's missing!"
Against the backdrop of foggy hills, smoke, and broken machinery... a small, childlike silhouette atop a broken tank, crushed as though a giant fist had come down from heaven, David had thought. The figure turned around; it had the face of David's brother, but the eyes were wrong and the smile was all wrong. Ralphie didn't smile that way. He never had. It was fake, it wasn't right...
"Don't worry. It's safe now."
But David had known it hadn't been, and two weeks later, when the next wave of Blue Moon soldiers arrived and killed the man he had been named after, the men in black took Ralphie away
and now he'd never see him again.
Fort Halberd
December 2, 10:00 AM
Within the walls of Fort Halberd, a company of Orange Star soldiers massed for deployment. Their numbers included one platoon of infantry with ample APCs for transport, one recon team, two light armor platoons, and one artillery group. The unit's commander walked down the line of vehicles, leading an inspection of the equipment. He stood next to one of the light tanks, looking it over, and reaching out with his hand as though feeling his way through the mechanical component of the vehicle. He then opened his eyes and made a "thumbs-up" motion.
"All clear here! You're good to go!" he shouted.
The tank's commander smiled. "Yes, OF-Lieutenant, sir!"
The kid, OF-Lieutenant Andy, beamed back. "I'm glad to see you're always taking care of your tank, Sergeant. Keep up the good work!"
In the fort's HQ Tower, Nell stood looking down the scene through the surveillance cameras, with General Carpenter beside her. The General seemed blown away by what she saw. "Quite an unusual thing, isn't it?" Nell observed. "Usually, younger COs have a hard time gaining their soldiers' respect."
"Really?" The General raised one eyebrow. "I think it's just the people serving under him. I've noticed he gets along better with the enlisted men than he does with officers. What was his Break ability again, Nell?"
"Andy's good with machines. He's able to construct or repair anything mechanical in a flash if given the right materials, or even just out of Break Energy if necessary. His OF Power, which he's dubbed 'Hyper Repair', can fix practically anything. In fact, he can even use it to heal his soldiers' wounds."
Carpenter's eyes returned to the console, where Andy was now joking around with one of the infantrymen. "I can see why General Vance dislikes him. Andy doesn't look like a serious military type at all."
"Of course. He's only 15." Nell sighed. "I wish I understood just how Comnets and Break Energy work, but we COs can only describe it as something we feel."
The other woman didn't respond; the way she saw it, the less she knew about Breakcoms, the better. When she had been young, Breakcoms didn't exist, CO powers didn't exist, Comnets didn't exist, and Break energy was nothing but a riddle for the eggheads to knock away at.
Simpler times, those. "Back before the Great World War, they wouldn't have let a child out on the battlefield."
"He's not a child anymore. You and I both know that. He's a competent commander with a passion for mechanics." Nell stared out the window. "I hear that Blue Moon has even younger OFs than him."
"It's lunacy."
"You could say the whole world is insane these days. Just trust me when I say that when a person receives these abilities, we change a little bit. Just enough that we can't call ourselves naïve anymore."
"Not naïve? Pfeh. I might say that you people really look like you're having fun on the battlefield."
"We do. Do you despise me for that, Miriam?" Nell turned to the General and gave a small, creepy smile, prompting her to turn away slightly.
"It's not as though we enjoy killing, General. The battlefield is just where we're meant to be, that's all. It's hard to explain." Nell sighed. "I know you've always viewed us Breakcoms as monsters, General, and I doubt there's anything I can do to change your opinion. But there's a larger threat out there, and when it comes to threats to our nation's security, I'm on your side."
"True enough." The General forced a smile. "Well then, how exactly is this OF-Lieutenant supposed to sneak through Blue Moon's raiding battalions?"
"We'll lure them out, that's what." Nell took out her command console, bringing up a small map. "Andy's company will look for an opening while my forces attack to the east. With that, Andy will reinforce the Golden Fortress. They won't expect this from us, so they'll take the departure of our units as a signal to head for the capital while their forces in Alara try to capture the Golden Fortress. Thus, Andy's forces will be more than a match for whatever they send, and as for the capital... well, that's where General Vance comes in."
"I don't follow."
"While us COs can activate our Command Network without being in a trance, we don't have to. If I enter a Comnet trance and have General Vance act as advisor, I'll be able to generate a large enough Network that I can spread it between both the capital's defenders and the forces distracting the raiders. Meanwhile, Max and Sami will be launching their own counterattacks elsewhere, and General Bernstein will make sure Falcon Island doesn't fall in the meantime. If this works, we'll be able to take the initiative from Blue Moon."
"And if it fails?" General Carpenter started tapping the glass.
"If it fails, that means our forces on Cosmo Land are too weak, and Blue Moon would take the capital anyways, just like if we did nothing."
The General stayed silent for a minute, then looked back at the camera with Andy's company. She really hated rash actions like this, but... they couldn't afford to let Blue Moon have any advantages. As much as she disliked Nell, she had to admit the woman had more strategic sense than perhaps anyone else in the Orange Star military. "Just tell me where you want me, CO-General."
"You'll stay on watch here. They could try something funny and attack here instead, perhaps if they think we've left the base unguarded. If they go right for the capital, your forces will hit them from the side when they start to break."
"A good plan." General Miriam Carpenter sighed. Even if Nell's gambit succeeded, Blue Moon would be far from defeated. Still, it was a much better place to start than any of the ideas she'd had.
HQ Tower, Post Foxtrot Alpha
East of Jefferson City
December 3, 2:28 PM
"CO-Colonel Grit. We have incoming."
The layout of the command room of a Blue Moon HQ, aside from aesthetic differences, was much the same one of Orange Star's. There were banks of consoles manned by support officers, the various screens showing satellite images, abstractions of said images, and video feeds from the field. More notably, both HQ designs were centered around a large machine in the middle with a console, levers, and a large chair for a CO to command from. This machine, known as the Break Amplifier, had been the centerpoint of Wars World's military strategy since the Great World War, allowing the Breakcom to send energy through their Network in a surge known to the troops as a CO Power.
In the center of the chair sat a thin man in a yellow overcoat and cap. He was hunched over, seemingly concentrating on the screen. His Lieutenant knew better than that, though.
"Wake up, CO-Colonel. Our scouts report that at least two groups of enemy units, possibly more, are headed this way. CO-Colonel... just wake up."
"Right, right... heard ya the first time." The man straightened up and let out a big yawn. "And there ain't no need to be so formal like I been saying, Hadrian. Jus' call me Grit."
"Sir... please call me Lieutenant, or even Lieutenant Nyberg. It's better for my sanity."
"Sorry, Hadrian. I guess it's just not my style. You got a cool name, anyways." Grit blinked a couple times, then turned down to the console. "Well, I'll be... looks like Nelly's really goin' for it this time. I tried to warn the Boss she'd be this bold."
"What do you want me to do, CO-Colonel?"
"Tell Ol' Frosty Nell's taken the bait, but she's prob'ly got something up her sleeves. She always does."
"Right away, sir."
Grit looked down at the screen. This don't look too good. We really don't got much in the way of artillery round these parts; it was all just a big bluff. I told Frosty that when Nell's cornered, she attacks, but...
Well, let's see here. We've got tanks and some infantry in the back, and some recon and infantry guarding the artillery in the woods. We've also got a rocket and some anti-air near the HQ. We may have to fall back and call up some units from east... then we might have a chance against these guys.
Of course, this is a Darkspot and all. It's possible that Nell really hasn't sent that many down here, and she's bluffing too. Well, guess there's only one way of findin' out.
"Alright, Tank Groups 1 and 2. We've got a couple rowdies looking for trouble out west. Go and back up the big guns, but don't do anything foolish, you know? Don't want y'all getting bloodied up now." Grit switched frequencies. "Field recon, pull back a little. Try not to let 'em see you. Stay inside artillery range so they can cover you if y' need to run. Right, then; I'll take command now."
The gunslinger then activated his Command Network, smiling at the unmistakable rush of hundreds of minds linking to his.
Jefferson Tower
December 3, 4:00 PM
General Vance scowled down at the console, watching the feeds from the different units as they were all compiled into one abstraction on his monitors. He looked over at the Break Amplifier, where Nell sat in a trance. Next to him, Colonel Kristoph adjusted the image on the monitor, noting where things seemed out of place and confirming any potential discrepancies with each unit. Vance was connected to Nell's Command Network for advising and monitoring purposes, but he'd adjusted the connection to filter out any communication not related to initial contact. He was more used to using the transceivers and the satellite overviews to command.
Right now, though, there wasn't really much to do. The General turned to Kristoph. "Colonel. What's your take on this whole to-do?"
"I think luck's with us today, sir." The Colonel was displaying an uncharacteristic lack of discipline; after all, he was finally going to get to see CO-General Nell's powers in action! A little tact would have been wise around the General, though.
"Bah, luck." General Vance scowled in Nell's general direction. "I have no intention of relying on a power I know nothing of. Now, Colonel! What is your assessment, under the assumption that nothing out of the ordinary happens? That of course includes the CO-General's assistance of ANY kind."
"Alright, sir... recon units report movement throughout the Darkspot. Additionally, aerial scouts have spotted artillery units moving this way from deeper in occupied territory." Colonel Kristoph's eyes widened. "Wait, you don't mean..."
"Excellent." A fierce smile came to the General's face. "We can't be too hasty now, but I do believe it would be good to speed things along a little. After all, we've caught 'em with their pants down."
4:30 PM
Half an hour later, a spot lit up on the General's screen, accompanied by a pulse in the Comnet. "Damn. Contact so soon?"
A communication through the Comnet: '[4th Tank Platoon] Taking artillery fire, unable to determine source.'
"So it's begun." General Vance looked up at the screen, then blinked in surprise. 'Lieutenant, your unit's current status?'
'Surface damage to one vehicle. We're still alive and kicking, sir. They're not letting up, though.'
"What." General Vance blinked a little. 'Alright. Continue the advance if possible. Colonel Kristoph will pinpoint possible artillery locations.' The General sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Hell, I wish I had some bombers..." Of course, Nell had given a direct order not to risk any air units here. The General had to admit it was a massive risk to deploy bombers in a Darkspot – any aircraft lost to hidden missile units here would be a bomber that would never defend the capital – but it felt like he was being asked to blind-charge into a minefield.
"This is Colonel Kristoph. I've calculated possible artillery positions, and... this can't be right."
"What is it, Colonel?" On the monitor, several infantry markers moved up through the forests. Red flashing spots marking artillery impact kept appearing; General Vance was surprised they hadn't taken any losses yet. Is this Nell's doing?
"We've searched all possible locations. No success in locating the enemy artillery, sir."
"What?" The General scratched his chin. "Is it possible they've moved?"
"Not that quickly, General... unless they're under the command of a specialist CO. Expanding search area..."
Suddenly, the screen lit up with about 3 times as many markers, and the Comnet came to life with chatter, much of it relevant to the General's needs.
'[3rd Infantry Platoon] Taking fire! Enemy sniper units hidden somewhere in the hills! Trying to pinpoint a location-'
'[Artillery B] Falling back, we can't get a good firing position with this rain of-'
'[4th Tanks] We've lost 2 vehicles! All units retreating-'
'[2nd Tanks] Confirming enemy sniper location, marked on battle map! Counterfire...
'[Scout Squad] Spot 1... 2 infantry squads retreating into the woods. They don't appear to have heavy weapons.'
The Colonel scribbled something down on his notepad. "General. It seems like the enemy has made their first move in the north. Our southern force is still taking only token artillery fire."
The General grimaced. "Blast! Nell was right. This isn't Olaf at all. Why, it's... it's more like..." The man's eyes widened. "No. That can't be."
"General?"
"Colonel. Expand all search ranges for artillery locations by one operational unit."
"Sir? Wh-what... what are you talking about?"
Vance ignored the man's blabbering. It can't be... but I can't rule it out. Vance looked over at Nell, whose face was started to show signs of worry... or sadness? To be safe, I'll say it is. She certainly seems to think so, after all. Or maybe these freaks don't need to be on the same Comnet to talk telepathically?
"Colonel, instruct our northern force to advance from cover. We have to stop these cowards from moving so our southern forces can find out what the devil is going on here."
"Uh... understood, General."
HQ Tower, Post Foxtrot Alpha
4:34 PM
Grit frowned as he used his Comnet to check through the status of each of his soldiers. Good... we've emerged relatively unscathed. No permanent deaths so far. Of course, knowing Nell, it's probably not too different on her end. This is just the opening. "Yeah, it's a big group of 'em alright. Hadrian, go tell the Boss that she's moving out alright. We won't be able to hold longer than a couple days at this rate, so now's as good a time as any to dangle the bait."
"Yes, sir." Stress lines were again appearing on the Lieutenant's face. "Sir... should I submit a request for additional reinforcements?"
"Frosty's not gonna give us none, but if it'll put your mind at ease, go 'n do so."
"...that's very reassuring, sir."
"Sorry. Always had trouble with the people side of things." Grit leaned even further back in his command chair, staring at a gauge on the side of his monitor. "Hmm... I reckon we'll have to pull back a little further still. Don't want all our hardware getting trashed before I have a chance to use this..."
Alara Region – Lost Fortress
4:40 PM
Droma was groaning in the bathroom, wondering vaguely whether the source of his pain had been the steak or the milk, when the call arrived. "This is Sasha. The authorization to attack has been granted. I trust your units are ready to move at a moment's notice?"
"Could you please shut up for a bit? This really freakin' hurts." A symphony of neurons cried out their unwelcome message as Droma pinched his skin, trying to block the throbbing pain with something sharper.
"Is this a bad time? I can have Lieutenant Baich handle the offensive if you are... incapable."
He couldn't tell what that look was; all he knew was that he didn't like it.
"NO! I'm fine, so shut your filthy hole!"
A small gasp issued from the other end of the transceiver. When the voice came back, it returned almost as cold as CO-General Olaf's ice. "...OF-Lieutenant Droma. This is your final warning. Continued insubordination will result in your termination from the Blue Moon army. I know what you're going to say. I'm starting to think recommending you was a mistake, OF-Lieutenant."
"I..." An unfamiliar emotion flashed through Droma. Was it fear? Regret? He didn't know; all he knew was that he wanted it to go away. "I apologize. Just give me a couple minutes and I'll be ready to move. With a... cautionary approach pattern, we should be ready to attack within 4 hours."
"Good. See to it that you do not fail me." Any trace of sympathy that might have been in Sasha's voice was gone. "And if you do, don't even bother coming back."
"S... sure." Droma turned off the transceiver, wishing his stomach still hurt so that it could distract him from the lingering emotions of that conversation.
Blue Moon Territory – Castle Lyod
4:41 PM
With the conversation over, Sasha slumped over in her seat, quietly sobbing. Unlike herself, Droma had been so different before he'd become a Breakcom... but now, even thinking about him would tarnish the memories they'd created together before any of this had happened. After a few minutes, she straightened up and wiped away the tears. There was no time for this right now.
"...it's always hard, my dear... but sometimes a person just can't handle the change, and something snaps inside."
Sasha looked down at the transceiver. "CO-General Olaf... you heard the conversation. Do I have permission to remove OF-Lieutenant Droma from command?"
"Not yet. I want you to head down to his position and stand ready to take over if anything goes wrong, though." Olaf looked annoyed. "Doing it now would only mess up the assault, and he might go rogue if he suspects anything, so we'd have to take proper... precautions."
Sasha slumped over in the large command chair. "I... see. I apologize, CO-General. If it weren't for my recommendation-"
"Nah. Lots of OFs start like Droma, but they settle down after a while. You really can't tell the problem cases right away, so you have nothing to be ashamed of. Besides..." The CO-General's gruff face twisted into a toothy smile that was probably meant to be reassuring. "I know how strong the pull of a good memory is. You didn't do anything wrong, Sasha."
Sasha smiled sadly. "Very well, then; I'll begin my report. Only a couple Orange Star reconnaissance aircraft have passed into Blue Moon territory today. However, our Coast Guard units have spotted two Green Earth cruisers moving around the western edge of the continent. Attempts to contact them have met with silence."
"Green Earth? Huh..." Olaf scratched under his beard. "Keep an eye on them, but don't make any aggressive moves. I doubt they're here for us, but raise the alert level in the regions they're passing, just in case."
"Yes, sir. That's all for now."
"Well done, Sasha. I wish more of our officers displayed your professionalism. Be prepared to move out in an hour; I have prepared transportation for you and a Spetsnaz platoon in case you need backup. OF-Major Petrine will take command at the castle." The CO-General's picture disappeared from the console.
Sasha stood up, looking around the room. Castle Lyod was, in many ways, the headquarters of Blue Moon operations on Cosmo Land. The room she stood in was the Personal Command Chamber; it was usually reserved for Olaf's use, but while he was off in Orange Star, she had been left in command of home defense. Unlike most command rooms, all the support officers were only in contact through the terminals; she was alone in the stone room with the Amplifier and the other instruments. CO-General Olaf always said that solitude helped him focus; Sasha was usually the same way, but right now, given the circumstances...
...she could use a snack. And a big drink, if she could sneak one in.
HQ Tower, Post Foxtrot Alpha
6:40 PM
In the last few hours, relatively little direct combat had taken place. Grit's artillery and rockets had shelled the advancing Orange Star forces, but there were very few confirmed hits and in the end, Grit's forces had to pull back even further. Damage had been done, but Orange Star was barely even staggered. Grit's face was as impassive as ever, but inside he was a bit surprised. Good old Nell... your powers have gotten even stronger since I last saw you. Wouldn't surprise me if there wasn't even a single death on your end today due to "luck".
Lieutenant Nyberg turned to the command chair. "CO-Colonel Grit. Northern enemy units have ended their advance and are rotating out with reserves. The southern force is moving north to join them. Additionally, the enemy Command Network has been disengaged. I'll handle the first shift of night operations, sir; you can make your reports, then get some sleep."
Grit sighed. "It ain't going too well on our end. Our men are mostly safe, but we've done nothing but give up ground to the enemy."
"Not really, sir. Orange Star's southern forces are acting far more cautious than they should be right now."
"That's true. We've destroyed a good amount of their hardware, that's for sure. Still, the fact that they even got within firing range of our rockets to begin with... worries me. They could take the HQ tomorrow if we don't do somethin'."
"Well, you don't need to worry about them reaching us while you're asleep, sir. Lieutenant Krokov and I will see to that."
"Got it. As usual, wake me if the enemy's Comnet goes back up." Grit gave a signal over the transceiver, then a few seconds later, pulled back from his own Comnet, his perception returning to normal. "Hey, when did Frosty say he was going to start the attack on the capital again?"
The lieutenant punched a couple buttons on his console. "The attack starts at dawn. He'll want you to be awake and aware by then, so get some sleep, sir. And not just a nap."
"Heh. Keep up the good work, Hadrian. Good night."
"...sir." The lieutenant groaned. "It's Lieutenant Nyberg. And good night. ...I assume you're saving your trump card for tomorrow?"
Grit looked at the Break Amplifier's screen, noting that a large gauge on the side was almost completely filled. "Heh... well I'll be. I had no idea we were that close already."
"We could probably pull one off now. The enemy CO has disengaged, so-"
Grit sighed. "Don't really feel like it right now, Hadrian. Besides, the Houston Conventions put more restrictions on COs than OFs when it comes to powers. Remember?"
"I mean, if you pushed forward and got them to reengage first, then..." The lieutenant trailed off as Grit gave him a hard stare. "...I apologize, sir. I was out of line."
"Heh. Sometimes, I have to wonder which of the two of us is a CO." With that strange line, CO-Colonel Grit got out of his command chair and retired to his bedroom, already looking forward to the wonderful dreams that would come that night.
Jefferson Tower
6:45 PM
"So we've basically accomplished nothing today." General Vance made no effort to hide his annoyance.
"That's not true, General." Nell yawned and stretched rather unprofessionally. "Due to my supervision, we've minimized personnel losses. We've also determined that the enemy forces are small, but highly organized, and we have a good estimate as to the enemy's troop composition. We just need to be careful; there's now no doubt that Olaf will make his advance on the capital in the next three days, maybe sooner."
"That CO in command... that was Grit." The General scowled. "Filthy traitor. I thought he disappeared years ago."
"From us, yes. I assume he's been doing work for Blue Moon for a while now, though."
"Hmph. Just goes to show you can't trust a single one of them." The General left the implications of that statement unspoken, but several officers around the room looked up, shocked.
"General Vance... you're playing with fire here. Just thought I should warn you." Nell's eyes flashed. All of a sudden, the man's pistol went flying upwards out of its holster. As his eyes widened in shock, the gun discharged, sending its payload of hot lead flying at high speed towards him. As Colonel Kristoph screamed, the bullet from Vance's gun fragmented into four pieces, each flying just past the side of the General's face.
"Let me make one thing clear to you, General. My loyalty is to Orange Star, and Orange Star alone. I would appreciate if you would not question that." The woman's eyes were like steel; the General felt like her gaze was suffocating him. "It is true that the enemy CO and I have had a history together. However, I do not let such things interfere with my duty. Do you understand?"
The General hissed. It was true: if she really was a traitor, she'd already have massacred all of High Command. Nell had been the first CO to make it this far up the ladder; it surprised him that any Breakcom was allowed to become a theatre commander after what had happened with Olaf. Also, Grit was a sore issue to her; the unscrupulous General made a mental note of this. "Very well. I apologize for... implying such things. You have a distinguished, almost flawless record in Orange Star, after all."
The tension in the room did not decrease even slightly. Nell smiled, but the effect was more threatening than reassuring. "I'm going to go and prepare for tomorrow; I have to discuss strategy with the junior officers, and so do you. Notify me if anything happens."
And so Nell and the General left the room, both brooding over the same issue... but for different reasons.
Alara Region
8:05 PM
Droma scowled as the mountain winds blew his neck-length hair out of place for the third time. He finally gave up on fixing it, instead grasping his binoculars and returning his attention to the small military complex below. So this is the Golden Fortress, is it? How quaint. Compared to the last few, this should be child's play. He smiled, licked his lips, then spoke three sentences into his transceiver:
"OF-Lieutenant Droma here. All units in position. We are ready to begin the attack."