Insubordination, part 2

We were on the move within a quarter of an hour, armed to the teeth. Nevertheless, there was already hardly anybody left in our side of the camp by then. One of Katsura's survivors agreed to lead us. Sakamoto was behind me. Suzuki, my other lieutenant, had command of the unit, leading them to Mito as ordered. I had more volunteers than I had anticipated, less than I wanted. We blazed down the mountain in single file. Nobody spoke. I could hear only the jingle of weapons and the laboured breaths of the man directly in front of me. The cold reality of what I was likely to find at the end of my journey was sinking in, seeping into my heart like icy water. Five hours march, the man had said. Even if my smaller unit was twice as fast, it would still take us almost three hours to make it down to the battlefield. By that time, Katsura would have been on his own out there for at least eight. It would seem he had managed to outmanoeuvre the enemy, but he could only keep his men running for so long. I knew the Amanto would not let them go, especially if they believed they could still keep their secret by slaughtering the little recon party. When had they found our location, anyway? Did they know our plan? Did they prepare for us running?

Lethal mathematics turned my stomach. I realized that Hashimoto had let me go to my own death. Honestly, what could I do? Even if Katsura was alive with his men, and still holding out by some miracle, what could I do?

I could do what I could, and no less. Until the last of my blood was scraped from my veins, I could continue doing what I could. I owed him that much.

I remembered when Katsura jumped with me into the melee to get Kuramoto's body. This felt a lot like it. Of course, Kuramoto actually survived in the end, against all odds. I very much doubted we would be as lucky.

I dragged my mind out of the poisonous loop it had fallen into. "Sakamoto."

"Ca'tain?" he inquired. He was breathing hard, but not quite as hard as I was. Damn him, he was younger.

"You stick with me on this, got it?" I said.

"Yessir."

"I don't want you engaging on your own, got me?"

"Yessir."

"How…" Talking was making me pant even more. "How did you know?"

"What, sir?"

"About the sentry to the east. You had a feeling it was wrong."

Sakamoto grumbled, pondering. A nasty cliff opened in the forest floor before us, slippery with fallen leaves and lined with sharp rocks. Our conversation waited until we managed to get off the treacherous slope.

"If I had command of the Terminal," Sakamoto explained, gulping greedy mouthfuls of air as we continued in the punishing rhythm. "If I had their numbers to hold it, I would not waste my men on the East. It is not the logical way for anyone to approach. And if I did send the sentry out, it would not move northwards, into the mountains but the other way around." He shrugged genially. "It just didn't make any sense."

"Hmm," I said, not quite following. I would need to see the map again, then it would have perhaps fallen into place. Instead, I eyed Sakamoto's sword suspiciously. "Have you gotten any better with that?"

"I really fucking hope so, sir," he said honestly. We both barked a laugh. Gallows humour – it was most fitting.

Shouts came from all the way down the line. "Everybody! Hit the deck!"

"Drop and cover! NOW!"

Sakamoto and I fell to the ground and rolled into a bush on pure knee-jerk reflex. We lay on our backs, unsure what we exactly were doing there but then a familiar howling pierced our ears.

"Airships," I whispered. It was stupid to whisper. The Amanto certainly could not hear me, and neither could Sakamoto. The breathy mechanical howl became a scream and a rumble at the same time. Then the air condensed around me, forced me into the soft ground as the first ship travelled directly overhead. I could barely breathe from the pressure. Then a pulse of wind burst through the canopy a few hundred yards downhill followed by almighty cracking and thudding. I bit my lip. They were looking for us! Did this mean they were finished with Katsura? No. They could not know he had split his unit. I had to believe they launched airships out of fear Katsura was still out there, and finding his way back to warn us. Otherwise, they would have sent the land troops in to finish us, and would not have wasted time searching the forest from the skies. They were assuming we had already slipped away. Which only proved they did not yet have Katsura… right? Maybe.

Another burst cleared the forest in a fifty metre radius just to our right. Tree branches, stone, mud and upset earth flew over our position.

"Ah!" I heard Sakamoto grunt in surprise as something hit him over the head. It made a nasty clang against his helmet. At least that proved its usefulness… I supposed that excused its ugliness.

Then the air-pressure mounted beyond anything I had felt before. My blood reverberated. Oh, no, were they going to clear this part of the forest as well? I was not sure whether we could survive the pulse… But that was not it. A large warship hovered above us. I could see it as a shadow against the sun, large, looming, monolith. Something that big could not possibly fly! The sky seemed to boil with the burden of it. Tops of trees burst open into splinters. The ground shook beneath me, rocking my lungs so violently I could not draw breath at all.

"Oh, my merciful mother of…" Sakamoto gasped. Screamed, I supposed. "That's a class breaker[1]! That… that is..."

I did not bother asking him what he meant, nor did I bother commenting on the awe in his tone. Instead, I waited for the monstrosity to hover on uphill and shouted with all my might, "Soldiers, sound out!"

A few dozen aye's and aah's reassured me that I still had all my troops with me. "Move out!"

And we did, hauling ass like there was no tomorrow. We knew that the Amanto were at the camp site by now. We could only hope the others had already given them the slip. It was a strange thing, now that I thought about it: at this moment, my little merry troop of suicides and idiots was the safest unit in the rebel army. We were in the enemy's blind spot. If I just took my men to the west and back over the mountains… If we just let our weapons fall into the mud, and walked away from them… If we just dissolved into strangers, no longer subordinates and superiors, no longer brothers-in-arms – just another handful of refugees arriving from who knows where…

If I left them somewhere along that road and made my way back to Shinano, to my village…

"Captain," the man in front of me pointed. A few hundred yards away, there was a body. By the size of it, I doubted it was a human body. We had stumbled onto a battlefield. Good. I skipped ahead, gripping my long sword. It felt smooth and eager; its touch calmed me.

"Take cover and follow my lead," I hissed. We had to play commando now. Takasugi was better at this game than I was. I knew how to lead people into a straightforward battle, but he was masterful at sneaking around, finding his way between enemy lines like water trickling through cracks. And, even more importantly, he knew how to take advantage of the tactical moment. Whatever else anybody said about the man, Takasugi had brilliant timing. He could find the golden trade-off between confusion and forward-momentum in a way I had never seen anybody manage. I wished I had his brains right now. I wished I had his commandos...

But I didn't. I had a lieutenant who had the refinement of a baboon when it came to swordplay, a bunch of delusional fools who surely had the brains of baboons to have followed me out here, and I had myself, with all my newfound disobedience. And I had a single dying wish – that my brothers were not murdered yet. I wished they would be alive to see me coming for them. That much, at least.

Sakamoto was breathing down my neck. "Not into the clearing."

"I know," I ground out moodily. He had a head on him, sure, but I still knew more about military strategy than he did, damn it all!

"Do you hear anything?" one of my men whispered.

"No…" I heard a despondent voice and realized it was mine. "Not a thing."

Where was the boom of alien cannons, or the ugly screams of their troops?! Where was metallic clanging? No, no, no, please, it could not all be over already. Not when I dragged these men into selfish danger. Not when I disobeyed my master, dishonoured him before the whole war council - everything so that I could do what I could. Please, let there still be something I could do!

We skirted what was obviously the outline of a battle front, shielded from view by the trees. Bodies lay in a haphazard pattern. From this distance, it was difficult to say whether they were our dead or the enemy dead. I could see absolutely no movement. It looked as though the battle had only just finished, and it was still too soon for the medics to come sanitize the remains. Everything looked dead, but we heard a few groans as we moved closer. These gave me hope.

"Do you see anything?" somebody asked.

"I see Toyokawa," another gasped. I scoured the landscape. Toyokawa had been in my unit. He was Katsura's lieutenant. Was no longer.

"Where?" I breathed. A bitter gulp of air hitched in my throat and burned there. Too late… "Show me."

Before the man could answer, Sakamoto clamped a hand over my shoulder. "Ca'tain, over there! I can see movement."

I looked down the length of his arm as though aiming over the barrel of a gun. The trees thinned out into a ravaged circle – an artificial clearing the Amanto had created. In the middle of it, I could see several figures but could not be sure what they were doing.

"Move," I grunted. My men followed. We whispered through the undergrowth, ears alert to the howl of airships. If the Amanto failed to find our army where they had thought it would be, they would surely backtrack down here, looking for it. And where were their thousands, I wondered? This battlefield was already closer to the campsite than I had expected. How come we did not meet enemy soldiers on our way down?

Something was very wrong. My eyebrows came together in a tight knot as I peered into the clearing. Now I recognized at least ten men out there. No, eleven, but one was on the ground. He seemed to get up again and stumble towards the others. I could not see what they were doing. It did not look like a fight… It was all in slow motion, thick and jerky, and full of long periods of motionless silence.

"I can't see," I bit out unhappily.

"It's Gintoki," Sakamoto said.

"What? You have good eyes!" I grunted at him.

"No, I don't, actually," he grinned. "But it's Gintoki."

I squinted again, looking for tell-tale white. But none of the coats were white. My men waited while I squinted over the field, trying to hide my uncertainty.

This was the thing Takasugi was so good at – teasing hubris out of the funk of fear. He could make men, nervous before a fight, believe that they were gods of war and that this was their great moment of victory. I could do none of that. I did not know whether or not we should cross into the clearing and attack. Attack whom? I did not know whether or not we should follow the circle farther south to find out where the rest of the enemy troops were. That made sense, and it did not make sense at the same time.

To hell with it, I thought. "Sakamoto, and you two, with me. The rest, stay hidden. Pay attention to my signals. If I say run..." I stumbled over my words. My men looked at me, eyes wide and nostrils flaring. I evened out my emotions. "If I say run, you take off for Mito. Drop your weapons in the forest if you have to, but meet the others in Mito."

"Sir," my men mumbled their agreement. I nodded to Sakamoto, and the four of us ran out into the open.

My feet tripped over limbs; some Amanto, some human. Every now and again I would almost loose footing, slipping against something. Mud or entrails? If I had time to think about what it was exactly, I might have become sick. But I kept my gaze pointed forward, to the drama unfolding a few hundred metres feet ahead. There were only seven men out there now. Was any of them Sakata? Or Katsura? Or even human? I could not see. One figure did stand out, though, towering above the rest. Amanto, I guessed. One of those quick, slinky types who always gave us trouble. The Shinra or something.

I watched as he ran into another man. The other – no more than an abstract brown-grey blur in the middle of the field – seemed to falter. His knee buckled and folded into the mud. One of the remaining five figures took advantage of his momentary weakness and sliced down his back. I heard the man scream in pain and rage. The scream finally helped me see better…

It really was him. Sakata rolled into the taller opponent, knocking him off balance. He straightened a few feet away and swiped his blade over the ground where the Shinra's neck had been but the tall alien had already recovered from the scrap. The little opportunist who had wounded Sakata a moment ago was prancing up to his flank. The Shinra rounded up from his crouch and coiled his muscles for an attack. Sakata breathed hard, mouth wide open. Even from this distance, I could tell each movement was hurting him. My shout of warning died in my throat when both of his enemies lifted their sword.

"N-!"

Then it was all over, within seconds, in a maelstrom of steel and flesh. My brain, starved of oxygen from the dead run, could not comprehend what had happened. The only thing I knew was that no more figures were standing in the middle of the clearing anymore.

"Sakataaaa!" I shouted, not even caring if anybody heard us.

"Zuraaaaaa!" Sakamoto joined in. "Kintokiiiiiiiii!"

Had one of the other figures been Katsura? I did not know whether the merchant boy had actually seen my old lieutenant, or if this was more of his wishful thinking.

I did not care. "Katsuraaaaaaaa!" I yelled, throat raw. Nobody replied. The last hundred metres were pure torture. When I saw the bodies, my brain finally pieced back together the impossible scene it had witnessed.

The Shinra was lying farthest from the centre, drying eyes staring from his ashen face. The upper half of his body was twisted towards the sky while the lower portion had flipped in the opposite direction. It made him look like a discarded toy. He had been the last to go. The little opportunist, his skull split open, had been first. He lay a few metres away, trapped beneath the body of a large rhinoceros-like alien who had most likely been Katsura's opponent. When Katsura had sent him flying backwards into the little one, Gintoki grabbed a bearded axe – I could see it now, lying next to the bodies – and felled the two stumbling attackers. Confused, the Shinra was drawn into a melee where Katsura shredded everything around him, spinning in a blind frenzy – the two remaining aliens must have fallen victims to that, judging by the gruesome cuts adorning their corpses. The tall Shinra had managed to block it all, but that did not help him. Sakata found his opening.

I had a vivid image of him sheathing his blade and lowering his head for one last pass. He inhaled slowly, and I had heard it, I could swear I had. The world stopped around him for an eternal second, emblazoned forever onto my eyelids. I had never seen a cleaner draw or a more magnificent kill.

But now I could not find either of my men anymore. I called out again, more desperate than ever. "Katsura! Sound out, soldier!"

"Kinotkiii!" Sakamoto yelled. "Zuraaaaa! Kinto-"

"Who the fuck is Kintoki?" I heard a quiet groan from my right. "You stupid cuntwipe." My lungs melted in relief.

"Kintoki!" Sakamoto exclaimed joyfully and ran to his friend. I haunted his step. The other two men did not move a muscle. I could understand why.

Sakata was sitting on his knees, still gripping the sword he'd struck into the ground. His face was hollowed out and deadly pale. If not for his feverish eyes, he would have been indistinguishable from the dead bodies around him. Not a single part of him was not coloured rust-brown and encrusted with blood. A nasty cut on the side of his neck was spluttering great gulps of crimson liquid in a grotesque rhythm. I could not understand how he was still conscious, let alone how he was still upright. Katsura was in even worse shape. He was prone with his head in Sakata's lap, smiling weakly at us. His eyes seemed unfocused, wandering our faces with little recognition. That scared me more than the bone poking out from his left ankle. But the worst thing were the streams of water rolling down his cheeks, leaving treacherous triangles of clean skin underneath warm, hazel eyes.

"Captain," he greeted me. "Captain, I… I-…"

Sakamoto was already next to Katsura's leg, ripping cloth from his sleeve to bind the wound. "Grit yer teeth, Zura. This is gonna hurt like fuck."

"M'name's not…" Katsura began saying, but did not have the strength.

My brain finally started working again. I raised my hand, and waved three times. The rest of my men, still in the forest, knew that meant they were to come and assist. I did not look back to see whether they obeyed me. Instead, I knelt in front of Sakata and put pressure onto his neck with a piece of cloth.

"I'm fine," he mumbled. He was not fine.

"What happened?" I began to ask.

"Hold him down, Ca'tain," Sakamoto demanded. I immediately found Katsura's shoulders and pressed carefully. One of my other men also stepped up, leaning his weight on my former lieutenant's hands. Meanwhile, Sakata put his hand over his friend's forehead for a brief moment. I did not know what that meant to the two of them, this intimate gesture, but it tore at my heart to watch it, so I rather looked at Sakamoto. He gripped Katsura's ankle expertly, concentrating.

"Three… two…" he counted down and pulled viciously. Katsura's whole body contracted but we held him in place. I did not know which unsettled me more – the painful crack of the bone, or the weak mewl Katsura gave. He was so close to passing out. Sakamoto bound his leg while my other man fed him water.

"Captain," Katsura began saying something again, but could not seem to get it out. "I couldn't, I-"

If he apologized to me right now, I would really rip my stomach open for him.

"Shut up now, Ka/Zura," Sakata and I said together. We found each other's eyes. I wondered if mine were as filled with guilt as his were.

"What happened, Gintoki?"

He frowned at hearing his name from my mouth but decided not to comment. "They ambushed us."

"Yes. We got the message."

"So they made it?" he whispered. He looked paler than ever, even as a testy smile cut lines around his lips. "Oh, thank merciful…"

"All units are on the move," I told him. Sakamoto directed the other two men to strap Katsura to a makeshift gurney. Sakata seemed unwilling to part with his friend; it took him a moment to realize what they were trying to do. He relented with difficulty, and switched his attention back to me. "I think they had enough time to disappear. The attack is called off. We regroup in Mito and go at it again."

"So what the fuck are you doing here?"

"We came to get you."

"That makes no sense," he shook his head.

"I know," I agreed. "What happened here? Where's the rest of the unit?"

Sakata looked down at his now empty lap. I would have given anything to take back those last words but it was too late. His expression broke even though his voice was steady. "It's just me and Zura."

It was just him and Katsura. Not him and Katsura out of the whole unit, but out of… everything that had stepped onto this battlefield. I looked away out of politeness, giving him time to begin breathing again. What I saw made me swallow. Bodies peppered the clearing, continuing downhill for at least a mile. Amidst the abstract chaos, I noticed strange details - a man's head lying in the middle of a path, its expression serene; two swords pushed into the same body, creating a perfect X. It was pure savagery. How long had it been just him and Katsura? I desperately wanted to know but could not possibly ask him.

So this is what the last man standing looked like, I thought. He was a pathetic sight. My heart bled for him.

"So you just, what? Fought them off?" one of the two other soldiers shouted stupidly. "But there were thousands here!"

"More like hundreds," Sakata mumbled.

"Still, how did you survive? How did just the tw-,"

"You!" I cried. "What is your name?"

The man gulped. "Kurokono, sir."

"Shut up, Kurokono."

"Yes, sir."

Sakata gave a hollow chuckle. He pulled on the handle of his sword and slowly lifted himself up. "Yeah, shut up, Kurokono."

We carried Katsura into the forest, and quickly down the hill, moving in a general north-easterly direction. Sakata marched with us, never asking for help. If he had been difficult to read before, he was impossible to read now. He spoke less than ever, laughed only when Sakamoto put a good hour into pretending to be an idiot, slept… not at all. We were pinned by airships three more times in the first weeks, making slow progress until we crossed the Abukuma river. There, we had the incredible luck to meet up with a part of our outfit. No, that was not fair – it had not been luck but Sakamoto's incredible foresight. Katsura started walking again soon after that, but I could see past his dismissive smiles. He was wounded deeply. In more ways that one. I did not know what to do; how to speak to him. How could I tell him it was alright? He was living my nightmare.

I longed to be a man with three times my experience. Or three times my courage. I longed to tell Katsura something his teacher would have told him in this situation; I wanted to be that big of a man for my old lieutenant.

I was not.

They started calling Sakata a demon after that. I did not know why Katsura did not receive the same treatment. Then again, I did.

The point of this chapter was to give you a background for the famous "If you have the time to die beautifully..." scene. Then it just escaped from me a little bit. Hope you enjoyed it!

[1] Class-breakers are ships which surpass the projected boundaries of their type. Basically, it is a ship too big to be that fast, and too heavy to be that mobile. That's sort of what I wanted to hint at here – a very quick description of an impossible ship and a shout-out to how Sakamoto would eventually own such ships.

I am preparing one more chapter (maybe another two-parter, but the same story line), and then I really have to get back to my other story. In the meanwhile, may I take a moment to say that I have really grown to like Mikuni. He did start out as a POV character whose main function would be to represent the change Gintoki et al. brought to the rebel camp, but then he grew a personality of his own as I asked the crucial question, what would it be like to be Gintoki's superior officer? I don't doubt that he would have driven any commander of his crazy within days. It would take a pretty magnanimous man to nevertheless admire him, and even become a little bit like him. So, Mikuni - kudos to you!

Thank you again for your comments. Keep them up, please!