The Armistice station, was by and large, boring. There wasn't much to it, nor did there contain many attractions or anything to keep oneself busy if they were in between meetings, or didn't have much to do.
Jessamine, who was between assignments and didn't have much to do, as it were — found herself keeping in line with the nature of the Armistice station. She didn't know what the UFE wanted her to do next, nor did she have any idea if she was even allowed to leave the station and return to civilian life. Granted, she didn't really see much of a reason to return to civilian life — since that would mean returning to an Earth-side UFE shelter, and basically doing nothing. So wait it was, wait until she could be an asset to someone, and at that point, be something more than just a little bit useful.
So instead, she spent most of her time sitting in on meetings between the Armistice Council, and whoever they decided to summon up to give whatever tidbit of information they had regarding the Martian side of things, the Terran civilian side of things, or just how the war had been going overall. Like for some reason, these clowns had no idea how bad the war had been going up until the Emperor of Vers had strangely decided to sign an Armistice and have it delivered to the fractured remnants of the United Forces of Earth's leadership.
She had to suppress a yawn as some official-looking person prattled on about the current state of the governmental body of the United Earth, and how things weren't as bad as they seemed, or so he promised.
If things weren't as bad as they seemed, she doubted that she'd still be here. She probably would've been dismissed from her position, and sent back down to Earth whether she wanted it or not. So instead she tried to refocus her listening back on the man talking, before realizing that he had just reached the end of his presentation. She shifted in her seat in the listening gallery, and stretched her back and neck, loosening the muscles that felt all too tight staying aboard the landing castle, and not being out on the land, searching for something that she didn't quite have a name for. Something that was useful, something to complete a mission. Whether that be information, a picture, a sound recording, a hand-drawn map, or just some coordinates. That's what she was good at, as she'd found through this war.
Jessamine had started her life under fire at the age of eighteen. A recent graduate of her high school in the North American territories, in the city of Denver, and was just getting settled in for a nice summer off before starting her university life, when the Heavens had fallen once again. She had been just younger than two when the Heaven's Fall had first happened, and her life was relatively unaffected by it, having grown up in a part of the territories that didn't see much landfall of the chunks of Lunar rock. But had grown up in the aftermath. She didn't know a life that wasn't pockmarked by the effects of the first Earth-Mars War. Something that had always been there in her memory, something that would always effect how she lived, in a way that made it impossible for her to guess how she would live her life without it.
Mandatory military training, Kataphract training and mock-missions, long-stints in the summer where she would be camping with eleven other girls her age on "survival" training. Visits to low-buoyancy labs where they would practice maneuvering in zero-g; all sorts of activities and actions that would not otherwise have been a part of her learning experience growing up, but that she didn't have a complaint for, because that was all she knew.
When the second Earth-Mars War came knocking, and the Martian Operation Earthfall came into effect; she had been on a personal camping trip in the rocky mountains, only to come down to find that Denver had been all but abandoned. People had moved for shelters, and moved away from the cities, to areas where other people were sparse.
It had been like something out of a comic book, or manga. Something that she couldn't quite describe, but the thrill of realizing what had happened, using her tools as a survivalist to gather information on where everyone had gone, what had happened, and more importantly; what her next steps were.
She had realized, in no short order, that Denver was not a target of the Martians, and that meant that she was safe there. "But for how long?" became a question that was rapidly approaching in her mind. So she set out, until her car gave out on her; and then on foot, towards the nearest city that had been landed on. New Orleans.
Across lands barren of humans, abandoned fields and occasionally crossing major roadways that held the symbols and signals of other people traveling along the same routes and highways that they always had, moving away from the major cities, but in directions that she couldn't quite discern. Instead of following those same symbols and signals that had commonality between one another, she took paths that cut across fields and sometimes through cities; the most direct path overland that she could take to bring her closer to New Orleans.
It took her nearly 3 months to move daily across the fields and barren flats of the Great Plains and make her way into the Deep South and Cotton Belt. Eventually, a few days out from the outer-skirts of the New Orleans city, she could finally get into sight the green glow of the pylon of the Landing Castle, one night as she walked in relative darkness. She had gotten used to moving more and more in the evenings, in the darkness as she assumed that if any military forces were moving in the region, they'd be less likely to find her.
She never ran into anyone else during her entire journey to New Orleans. Never ran into any ground troops, either Terran or Martian.
She did her best to gather information from the ground, never approaching so close to the Landing Castle to ever be detected by it, although on occasion, the earth would shake like the end times approached; and she would hide within the nearest building, until those tremors would pass.
It wasn't until later did she ever find the source of those tremors. A threat that she had no idea existed. And that was only then after she had found the Terran kataphracts, several KG-7 Aerions, destroyed in some tremendous manner, and never finding the bodies of the pilots who had been inside them. Even if she could find them, she had no idea if she wanted to or not. It was only then, did she catch a glimpse of that which could shake the earth — a massive four-legged Martian Kataphract. Several times bigger than the KG-6's that she had trained on in her secondary education.
She spent a few more months doing her best to gather information in New Orleans; trying to figure out what had happened, where people had gone, when they left, what the occupation generally looked like; which was nothing. There had hardly been an occupation, so much as it were the mass death of people trying to escape major cities due to the thermal and explosive shock-wave of the landing castle's arrival, then the escapes of those survivors who had survived those initial landings, from the city, and had moved as far away from the city as best they could. Some made it far, some didn't. There hadn't been much pursuing of fleeing civilians, so much as there was the complete decimation of local UFE strength. It wasn't like there was much anyone who was smaller than a Kataphract themselves could do about the Martians. And so, it was in that manner, that there was the by-and-large loss of territory around the landing castles.
In general, the Martian Kataphracts couldn't maneuver that far outside of the landing castle's range, for whatever reason; either doctrine or technical reasons, Jessamine had no idea.
There were no forward occupation bases, no expeditions of Martian soldiers rooting out civilians, nothing like traditional warfare as Jessamine had understood it. Meaning that information gathering was less focused on military information, and more on finding the stories of those survivors of the Landings, and figuring out what those survivors thought. There was nothing that she, or anyone else could do.
That was, until, the rumors started to traverse the continent, stemming from across the Aleutians, and making its way south through the Alaskan territory and occupied Alberta, before eventually making its way down to Jessamine's ears.
The rumors about a platoon of soldiers from Japan, those who had the capability and the kill-count to back up their fight against the Martian occupation.
Jessamine had hardly believed her ears when she'd first heard the stories, coming from a mildly drunken man sitting across from her at a cook-fire, speaking with a Japanese accent. Which meant that either he was pulling some strange amount of antiquated superiority rhetoric, or it was real, and he had witnessed it with his own eyes. And eventually, as more and more stories came from across the oceans, leading up until the month prior to the Armistice being declared; did Jessamine finally believe what she was hearing.
The "Mustang Squadron", headed by Mustang 1-1, the spearhead of the organized resistance effort against Mars.
There were other rumors, of course, about pockets of resistance cells of militias and unaffiliated militaries that were fighting as best they could against the Martians that were overpowering otherwise. It was only then did Jessamine realize that maybe New Orleans was an exception, rather than the rule. That there were occupation forces in other cities, Kataphracts behaving in different manners, depending on the Orbital Knight or Baron or Sir who was piloting it.
There was something special about the rumors that she would hear about Mustang Squadron. Waiting for eventually when she would hear anything about them.
It was only then, when the flying ship of the UFE; the UFE Deucalion, made its way through the airspace of New Orleans, did she see the reason behind the rumors.
It was a sunny day in late summer, the sun beating down on the humidity-plastered walls and pillars of the buildings of the remains of New Orleans. Jessamine had took it upon herself to scavenge for a family of three, whose mother wasn't able to move without mobility aids, and whose children were too young to understand what was good or wasn't good for scavenging. Jessamine, however, did. And didn't mind doing the scavenging, even for free, as they had nothing to give, nor did she have anything that she wanted from them. When something had crossed the sun above her, and initially, she thought it was some kind of bird — until she cast her eyes skyward, and saw the cylindrical shape of the Deucalion, and then heard the crack of its guns from thousands of feet above her. Nearly rupturing her eardrums, and causing her to duck into a nearby apartment building as she watched it. It was attacking the Landing Castle in the bay.
She didn't remember much about what happened after, the building that she had ducked into, starting to buckle as the pressure-waves from the Deucalion hit it, and shook its already shaky firmament loose.
She woke up, days later, at a nearby survivor camp — no one had any idea what happened to her. But it was that she had been dug out from some building, and brought to this camp by Terran Kataphracts; the UE Forces moving away and back towards the Deucalion, as it was on a mission.
No one had an opportunity to ask about who it was that saved her, just that she had been saved.
Jessamine's musings about her past, and the path that she had taken throughout the American territories, and how she'd ended up aboard the Armistice station, were interrupted by the introduction of someone coming into the meeting room.
"Lieutenant Yuki Kaizuka of the UFE Deucalion II, reporting as ordered!" The young woman at the front of the room gave a smart salute, and Jessamine was able to identify her face, even from so far back in the audience seats. It certainly was Yuki Kaizuka.
"Thank you for your time, Lieutenant." A commonly-spoken voice greeted the Lieutenant. A voice that belonged to one of the Armistice Council members that had spoken perhaps the most during al of the meetings that Jessamine had sat in on. "You may stand at ease, and behind that lectern, so that we may capture your word for the record."
"Yes ma'am." Yuki dropped her salute, and then moved behind the aforementioned lectern. "Would you like me to reintroduce myself?"
"If you'd like."
Yuki did not.
"Please explain to this council, what your role aboard the Deucalion I was, and what it is aboard the Deucalion II, at present." The voice prompted.
"I was and am the leader of KCS-212, Mustang Squadron, a detachment of KG-7 Aerions aboard the Deucalion." Yuki explained, "Radio call-sign, Mustang 1-0; Personal call-sign, Penivia."
"Penivia?"
"Yes, ma'am. It's something that sprung up before the War, and it stuck."
Jessamine smiled; the goddess of laziness.
"What is your relation to Mustang 1-1?" The voice asked.
"He's my brother, ma'am."
"What is his current state?"
Yuki winced, and Jessamine noticed.
"He's currently in the Luna-2 hospital station, in a medically induced coma."
"Why? How was he injured?"
"He was shot in the head, by an unknown Martian actor."
"This was during the attack on Novosibirsk by a Martian landing castle?"
"Yes, he was leading the operation to shut down the Aldnoah drive of the Landing Castle, and at some point was injured, disembarked from his KG-6, and was then s-shot." Yuki stammered over the last word, and it looked like Jessamine was the only person who had noticed. "We, being myself and Mustang 1-2, managed to reenter the Aldnoah Drive bay, and found his body."
Another voice piped up at this; a male's voice, "Wasn't the Princess of Vers in the chamber as well?"
"She was," Yuki started, giving emphasis, "But she was missing from the chamber after my brother was shot."
"Do you know where she went?"
"No, why would I?" Yuki asked. "We only returned to the Deucalion with just Inaho."
There were murmurs among those council members, and eventually one of the shadowed figured in the room spoke up, a different voice than the two before.
"Because she's still missing, you know this, yes?"
"Yes, its well known that we didn't return to the Deucalion with her."
"Is it at all possible that she made her way down from the Landing castle, and back to the Novosibirsk facility?" The voice asked.
"I suppose it is." Yuki responds, after a moment. "Although it seems unlikely."
"Why?"
"Because there were two distinct blood pools, with two distinct genetic profiles."
"Why would you know this, Lieutenant?"
"Because when we went back to retrieve his Kat', someone pointed it out to me, and I had them collect blood samples." Yuki explained. "Genetic testing isn't that hard to do, either."
"Thank you, Lieutenant." The voice responded. She didn't move. She hadn't been dismissed yet.
"Lieutenant, you're from Shinawara, in Japan, correct?"
"Yes, sir. I am." Yuki responded to the fourth voice.
"Ensign Inaho Kaizuka — Mustang 1-1 — was pivotal in evacuating from Shinawara, correct?" The voice asked.
"Yes, he was. We likely would not have made our escape from the Martian Kataphract there without him, and his forward thinking and observations about how it operated." Yuki responded. "It's all in my report, which should be available to this council."
"It is, and we thank you for going into such detail about his 'operation' to escape Shinawara. We're more so interested in his ability to return to service, do you think that at this time, he might be waking up from his coma any time soon?"
Yuki winced again, this time, there were murmurs when she did. "I don't know. He still has brainwave activity, sir. He's not brain-dead. But he's also not responding to stimuli in a… Normal way?" She sighed, "I'm not sure I'm the best person to ask for this, I'm not a doctor."
"No, but you're here, and we're asking about him…" The voice paused, "Do you think that without soldiers like Ensign Kaizuka, that Earth stands much chance against Mars?"
"No." Yuki said, shortly. "No, I don't think we do.
"I was with the initial response squadron in Shinawara when we got reports of a Martian Kataphract touching down. We mobilized to respond to it, myself running as Deadnest 2-3. The sixth in command of six. I was dead last. Myself, and Lieutenant Marito were the only two soldiers who didn't immediately die on contact with the Martian's Kataphract. It was only through the skill and calm attitude of Inaho that we all managed to survive that first encounter. He stayed calm in the face of overwhelming odds in combat, despite never having seen real combat before. I don't mean to speak for Lieutenant Marito, but there were two types of Terran soldiers during those first few days. Those who had fought in the First war, and couldn't fight anymore, and those who didn't fight in the First war, and were too inexperienced to fight." Yuki paused. "I was only lucky that Inaho managed to save me, otherwise I'd be dead. Lieutenant Marito was lucky that the Martian Kataphract was distracted and didn't finish him off. That day, a lot of us got lucky, and that's why we managed to see another day of fighting. That didn't mean we still weren't scared the next time we got into a fight. The only person who wasn't, and the only person who survived, who managed to get kills where no-one else could, was Inaho. I don't know much about other theaters of the war, but I know that the Deucalion wouldn't have made it here without him… So no, I don't think we do have much of a chance."
There was silence, Jessamine had to appreciate how Yuki's words had gone from quiet, nearly on the verge of tears, to commanding attention and getting her point across. What she thought wasn't just a knee-jerk assessment. It was what she genuinely believed.
After a moment, the first voice rose itself back up. "Thank you for your time today, Lieutenant Kaizuka. You are dismissed." The Lieutenant gave a salute, and then exited the room.
Marito had never been aboard a Martian Landing castle, except for the one time that he was in the vanguard of the recovery team that had found Inaho Kaizuka injured in the Aldnoah Drive Bay of the Castle Saazbaum.
So being aboard a landing castle, even if it was the Armistice station, was weird to him. Artificial gravity powered by centrifugal forces, the same monochromatic lights all throughout the entire station, and a general sense of everything being out of place. This was, after all, made from the same rock and stone and minerals found on Mars, not anything of Earth or built of Earth. Not like the transport he had arrived here on, nor the kataphract that he had fought in. No, this was something foreign to his brain.
He walked, hands in pockets, through the security checkpoints, verified his identity when he needed to, and otherwise was directed towards the council-room, where he would undoubtedly be asked questions that they already knew the answer to. He didn't see the reason, particularly, why he needed to be here. About anything he would be asked, the council would already know about his answers, what he would say.
But, he was still requested, and it would be bad form if he didn't follow through on the request to be there. So he showed up. He was waved into the room, and whispered something unheard by anyone else to himself as he was ushered into the Council room.
He made his way to the lecturn at the front of the darkened room, and stood there.
"Please state your name for the record." A voice asked of him. A female voice. He made a note of that.
"Koichirou Marito" He responded, some unseen microphone amplifying his voice and recording it for those present to look back on.
"Former Lieutenant in the United Forces of Earth, correct?"
"Yes. I retired three months ago."
"Why?"
"They were going to give me an honorable discharge for medical reasons anyways, I figured I'd rather leave on my own terms." Marito explained. "Besides, I didn't think the war was worth my fight anymore. Not that I could fight if I wanted to."
"Why and why not?" A second voice responded.
"I'll answer the last question first… I have severe PTSD from the First Earth-Mars war. Every time I've had an episode, it has been during an attempt for me to fight, either on foot, or in a Kat'." Marito explained, "And furthermore, I genuinely believe that without units like the Ensign Kaizuka, there's not much resistance that our units can give against the superior Martian units."
There were murmurs from the council in front of him, that had only grown in volume as he had talked. Once he had finished, the murmurs continued for a few moments, and in those few moments, Marito took a few moments to take in the room in general. The council sat in front of the lectern, shrouded in shadow, and there were several seats behind the council that he could make out, that he assumed were some sort of witness seating. Of course, however, asides from the few reporters and journalists that were there, the witness seating was empty, save one woman who he didn't recognize.
"Former Lieutenant Marito," The first voice piped up again, "You said that you fought in the First Earth-Mars war… Just to confirm, that you wrote the Tanegashima Report, correct?"
"Yes, I did… Both the war and the Report." Marito sighed.
"Would you say that you're an expert on the Martian force capbilities, then?"
"I would say that I've seen enough combat against the Martians to say that we don't have the capability to fight them in a prolonged engagement. I don't think that we have the capability to fight them in any real conflict. Their Aldnoah-powered machines are just too strong to fight in head-to-head combat."
"How so? You — being the crew of the Deucalion — had defeated several Martian Kataphracts, on your way to UFE Headquarters."
"That was because we were lucky, and had Ensign Inaho Kaizuka aboard ship."
"Are you saying that a single, young, drafted Ensign, was the sole thing keeping the Deucalion from being destroyed?" The question was asked like there would be some kind of pause after it for Marito to think. Like there was some kind of disbelief at that exact statement, like it wasn't at all possible.
He didn't need to think long, or at all. "Yes. That is what I'm saying." Marito says immediately.
The murmurs were back. Almost louder this time.
"I genuinely don't think that there's a way for us to defeat them with combustion-based Kataphracts. Hell, the Martian Kats' can do some physics-defying shit that we have no way to explain. Although I don't think that the Martians have much of a way of explaining it either." Marito explained. "Try giving me a physics explanation of how the Kat' in Shinawara worked, or how either of the ones at Tanegashima worked either." He spoke over the murmurs.
"So what you're saying, Marito, is that even with the preparation work that is being done in the case that this Council and the Martian delegation cannot reach an amicable arrangement between the two nations, that if open war starts again, that there's no way for us to win?"
"Yes. There's no way to win."
6
