Captain Jasper looked on the holographic tactical map. Watching his Teams markers via drone datalink, traversing through hilly terrain, to hill 105. It was quite unnerving, seeing as he was essentially playing chess. And everyone outside looking in could see that. But these weren't chess pieces. This was SI Force Recon, and every piece taken from him was a 200 pound burden to his soul.
He watched as the two Recon Teams signals were converging on the structure, an unassuming concrete behemoth surrounded by chain link fencing.
It was the Colony's Colonial Administrative Building, guarded by several Japanese Marines. The two Recon teams stopped just out of sight, hunkered down and out of sight.
WITHIN SITE OF TARGET. AWAITING ORDERS.
He watched as the diamond pieces were set into place, just like he ordered. Two fire teams flanking both sides, one at the front and back. Boxing in the enemy player just hidden inside, moves hidden from Jasper's grasp. Standard Loadout and weaponry. Door and concrete walls to withstand a nuclear blast. 100 metres of open area for wide firing arcs.
Too many variables. Too little time. Little to gain, yet everything to lose. He could use a beer right now. Maybe later.
His face sweat, running past his eye as It flooded his head.
PROCEED.
Not a second too soon, A set of flashbangs shrieked past through the afternoon sky, tearing the sneaking anticipation with roaring adrenaline as the recon teams descended on the structure with power assisted sprints.
Any Japanese troops outside the building were immediately disoriented from the initial attack, and while down, Zulu three sharply cut them down with their marksmen with accuracy as she shifted from one target to another.
The two Recon teams hugged the wall before the gaping maw of the door, grabbing each second by their fangs.
Suddenly, a blast, and a hail of gunfire erupting out of the door. Jasper received a small notification of one of his troops flatlining piercing venom into his heart.
"Shit! Zulu 1-4 is down. Bastards rigged the door."
Just as soon as the blast had simmered, the rest of the teams poured into the building.
As they entered the building, causing Jasper to switch to the team's Datalink, the data streamed in an empty reception desk, catching the sight of a Japanese Marine riddled with flechette fire like a bloodied hive slumped against the wall, before checking corners and leaving no stone unturned. The desks and tables were unturned and orderly, the sight of which punctured Jasper's chest.
They didn't pull the rug under them.
It was easy. Waay too easy. Bunker was enough to hold an entire company of troops, yet apart from the five they neutralized, the place was a tomb. He scanned the data in front of him, reviewing the master plans for the site for the upteempth time, eyes running against the clock as it overlaid with the current locations of his team, watching them descend down the hallway to the Administration office.
Jasper knew he was fucked. He was on the offensive, but was using reactive measures, a bad hand of cards.
"Zulu 3-1. See any movement outside?"
"Negative."
"Fuck."
It was then, Lieutenant Torres chimed, leaning against the wall, feeling it with his armored glove, gripping his carbine.
"Check the walls."
Several members immediately began to blur the physical wall with their radar, less powerful than the Japanese ones. They immediately sighted their targets hiding behind it.
Without a second wasted, Zulu 2-3 pressed his M-66 against the wall, stuffing a buckshot round into his launcher.
The 40mm grenade punched the wall like a mule and kicked like one, causing the first man to be pelted inside. The other blob,in a moment of quick thinking, drew his rifle and poured several flechettes,
But Japer sorely miscalculated.
They were there to buy time.
Several flashbangs were thrown into the main room down the hallway, spreading disarray that the flechette hailstorm punched through some of the men's thick armor, killing two more, and leaving the rest under their mercy.
"Shit. Zulu 3-4's wounded."
It was then Major Lopez's voice came in his comns, his harsh voice broke the reality he immersed himself in.
"Alright, wrap it up."
Captain Tanazuki's voice chuckled, as she appeared in his comns, eyes burning with excitement.
"Alright Jasper-san, you won this round. Nice for your team to detect that decoy."
Jasper chuckled.
"Sure, Cap'n. Tell your men to stand down. Cheer up. You did well for a defender. Would've annihilated us all."
It was then one of his troops returned fire, drawing the hailstorm to her. A second trooper saw the window of opportunity and fired a flashbang from his launcher, breaking through the storm.
The blast hadn't dissipated as they swept in like a flood in the hallway, sweeping corners and subduing the disoriented Japanese Marines, with Lieutenant Fields grabbing the Japanese Captain.
They secured the faux building, and walked outside, to a jeering audience in a colosseum, each wide row infected with adrenaline into countless people as a chorus of laughter threatened to destroy their mic sensors. Jasper turned off his Tactical Map, and joined in the revelry.
North America - 1 Japan - 0.
The court of the palace hadn't been used for a few months, yet the place looked like it had been recently constructed, with it's natural light through the open windows and stained glass giving light to the expansive spaces where the VIPs stood, giving more distinction to the towering corinthian columns that stood like the soldiers who guarded the purple carpet, instead of shields, held the banners of the Empire.
The room was forced into silence as they felt the cold blade of tension pressed against their skin, as was wielded by a man with expert skill. His robes and crown were ornate as they were heavy, but he carried them effortlessly and graciously, unlike the masses whose mere presence they buckled into kneeling, whether from his crown, himself, or his shadow. Luckily, they were spared such a fate from the guards, with their shields raised and ornate armor standing still.
He approached his throne, before standing behind, forcing his children behind him to go to their obscure seats, with his oldest son's radiance beating back his shadow, giving a wide smile.
But the court gaze was turned away, as the various nobles looked on these people with such conservative clothing that didn't show grace or ornate beauty apart from the rows of square boxes, and colorfkul patches on their sides, it portrayed only humility and spartan living. What little spark of information fueled wildfires of rumours throughout the court.
They traversed through the winds carrying whispers of fears, hatred and envy.
Two humans, one male and female, approached in front of the Emperor with a martial pace, dictated by puppet strings from practice and hidden communication devices.
The two kneeled before the man, throwing aside their allegiance by direct order, the bitter taste of betrayal stymied by the gifts bestowed upon them.
A chest of gold suwani, and a wreath made of golden leaves, its fruits shine with beauty only found in gemstones.
The essence of the entire ambience had nearly sent Captain Utkin into a dizzy world, with him thinking this was one of the more bizarre awarding Ceremonies he'd attended, all of this for some tin he could just requisition back at the supply depot.
But not as dizzying as how gifts that Mr. Lopez somehow convinced a fractured Congress to approve to transfer such assets.
He knew that certain members of the highest positions in power were watching, but didn't expect such.
He felt the metal grip of a sword being placed on his shoulder, icing up his nerves. The blade was inches from his neck.
"Captain Alexander Utkin. Captain Jerika Dahl, we bestow upon you the highest honor we can render, The Order of Zufmuut. It is generally given to humans who had done execptional work to forge order from chaos, as from our ancestors entering into this land, to today, on how you defeated and destroyed the Flame Dragon." Molt declared, his old voice willing words into form into orders to the Empire.
"I bestow upon you both the titles of Lord and Lady, and will hand you your lands."
This paled in comparison to his Distinguished Flying Cross, which was just a simple notification in his PDP.
As such, he carried himself with grace. Until he caught Dahl relishing in it like a sponge, her radiance exhuberating throughout the entire court. He even caught a few of the guards looking at her.
"When our ancestors' transplant into this world, we were told that our race was key to saving Elysium from ruin, our strength and sense of duty has tamed these once chaotic lands with an iron fist, where the Ancient Empires of the Elves, Dwarves, and many other races failed to do."
"But a sword is only as sharp as it could be before it met its match, and in the past few weeks, we had been handed defeat after defeat, and nearly the resources to control it. Even the dragon awakened, signalling our end."
"But thanks to our fellow human brethren and their technological might, we have fought back in our darkest hour. And hopefully, they can bring us into the light of the stars as we both walk together."
The court erupted into applause, as the elves sang their angelic tune, and the trumpets of the lizardmen bellowed.
Isaac smelled the competing aromas fighting over one another, overwhelming him in the cavernous room, the rich, tantalizing smell of flowers blooming, the sizzling cooked meats that cried out in joy, the sweet smells of pastries that charged the room with energy, underneath an ambient light that would make the sun blush with envy as he laid on the dining chair, his body straining a bit as he reached for the food in the middle of the chairs, balancing the food in an attempt to not stain it. Luckily, thanks to the elves the open air party room was controlled, leaving the chance of spillage little.
"...Drinks?" The server, or slave purred as she presented the dark red liquid to his eye.
Isaac smiled, before shaking his head, his mind disagreeing with him.
Unfortunately, the ambient beautiful venue was hampered by a large barrier separating him and them, threatening to overwhelm him, as his navy blue and red undershirt mess dress standing him out like a sore thumb in the crowd of togas and tunics, which giving him a strange look not affording him any humility he didn't have.
'God, I'd kill for a drink." Isaac sighed, sticking in with the other men and women Marines, subconsciously herding themselves into a corner by the ever-looming barrier, which earned him a complicated look from Mr. Lopez.
A sly chuckle responded to his query beside him.
"Too bad we're still on duty." Jasper said, wearing his dress uniform as he carried his confidence with stride, even as he also posed in an uncomfortable pose.
Isaac snorted, feeling exposed outside his combat armor and no ammo made him weary, the barrier setting him in unease as he was cordoned off, making him look around.
"Two chicks at your six staring." he assessed, seeing how cold he became as he saw how their eyes tried to burn the back of his head.
"Dude, every pair of eyes are staring at us." His CO commented, Isaac briefly glaring at his smug face betraying his demeanor, eventually cooling off from his calm blue eyes.
"As a son of a Senator, you tend to get to know that the party is a secret battlefield," Jasper noted, eating a piece of avian meat. "And in this society, anything goes."
Isaac rolled his eyes.
"And as a Junior-Grade Officer, you should know you are way out of your depth."
Jasper nodded to him, before he slowly stood up from his seat. "I'm not staying in service for long after the war." he stared at his best friend, before continuing."Dad's adamant that I pursue a political career after, seeing that being a vet gets brownie points."
Isaac bursted out a chuckle.
"My, my, Senator Royce Jasper of the Jasper Political Dynasty. How may I, A humble Colonial, may assist you?" Isaac asked with infused mockery.
"Haha." "Look, I'm not going to be under my dad's shadow like those damn traitors. I can't stand being under dad's shadow all the time."
"I mean, what are you going to do after your service?"
Isaac shrugged.
"Probably work as your assistant?"
Jasper laughed.
"With your background and family name? Nope. Besides, you're a horrible assistant."
Isaac looked at him with muted anger, causing his friend to rest a hand on his shoulder, as he sat next to him.
"Isaac. I know you'll never get over this war. Unfortunately for you, we're no longer part of that war anymore. So stop living in the past, and enjoy the present."
Isaac's eyes widenend in realization.
"This isn't your House."
Jasper smiled smugly, dapping his mouth with a handkerchief around his collar.
"And this isn't your Berth."
"I don't even know how to charm them."
Jasper stood up, brushing off the crumbs off his suit, and pruned himself.
"Your Great-Grandfather charmed the world and the different peoples in it when he first stepped foot on Mars. You can."
He then approached the two women, flaunting his flamboyant charm, the language barrier between them breaking apart with laughter, the flow of words between them effortlessly reached their brains.
Isaac watched him, before continuing to pile up on the food, with familiar ones like pork chops and Chicken, but soon, with dishes that dangled on the edge of sense.
He was eating slowly to pile up on the meal, when a man caught his eye.
The guests of honor were afforded with some luxuries, but as a grunt Isaac was sure that he would encounter the elite of the elite, which were tightly concentrated in the center stage a few seats ahead, but were slowly crumbling as they were wooed by the slaves and the technologies shown in the various booths on the courtyard.
So as Isaac gazed on the man's ornate clothing, confusion rang by his head.
He was like Jasper, as he flaunted his personality outwardly and radiently like his blonde hair, but it seemed as sharp as his sword that he carried.
He smiled over the lieutenant as he stood above him with a radiance bright as his blonde hair and tact like his eyes, even as both had youthful features similar to one another.
"You're Lieutenant Fields, aren't you?" he asked.
"Yes, I am."
He bowed before Isaac with grace before meeting his gaze.
"I am Viscount Herm Fule Maio Sir Lieutenant Fields. I hear you accompanied Pina in your Mission."
Isaac stood up, feeling the tension of a nobleman would radiate.
"It's just Fields, but yes. Forgive me, but are you close to her?"
The Lieutenant watched as the man gave a complicated face of rage and sorrow battling one other, mixing and blending in until it became pure grey confusion.
"I was formerly part of her order. Nevermore, as I have outgrown such childishness." He chuckled bitterly.
Isaac knew the Rose Knights were green just by looking at them, but never thought them as fools.
"They know what they're doing." Isaac replied.
Isaac could feel the pure grey confusion look on his face sharpened in a blade, its sharpness against him making his skin grow cold, pressuring him to change the topic.
Herm smiled at Isaac's compliance.
"It was interesting seeing how small units of men were able to turn the battle into their favor. What would take at least a few thousand men and days, took you a few hours. Such interesting things to think about."
Without a beat, Isaac leapt from Herm's end.
"Its what we are. Special Tactics Teams. But even then, due to our low numbers, we weren't able to secure Italica, only dismantle any organized resistance. It's just not our role to do so, and that's evident on the large civilian casualties." Isaac explained.
"I imagine those plebs running amok like wild chickens, ruining your operation like they usually are."
Isaac glared at the man as venom dripped from his mouth, before taking a breath.
"Well, it's mitigated by using RQ units all over the town."
"RQ? Ah yes, your God's eye. Everyone's paranoid about those things."
"Intelligence is half the battle. That's why we're sent in, before the regular forces."
Feeling relieved, Isaac asked for a round of some crunchy meat from a slave whose body swayed through her thin, opaque clothing, who gave a smile to the two patrons.
Herm glued his eyes on her body, even roughly caressing her rear as she placed the meals to the point it left a mark, yet eyed at Isaac's hands resting.
"Why aren't you using them?" Herm asked puzzlingly.
"Using what?"
"Your hands. You haven't sipped wine, ate much, or even touched that scandalous woman whose body was begging to be used?"
Isaac blinked, before Herm continued speaking.
"You aren't using the grateful gifts of the Emperor, my good sir. Such waste! Do you not appreciate the generosity of others?"
"I can't, I have my duties of this event."
Herm nodded. "I understand. But you must realize, that this is the reward for rising though the ranks, you and me."
"What are talking about?"
"Who is your family, Fields? Must be important to be able to gain a son of a senator's time and attention for one outside of their circle. And one who is primed to take his Father's Position."
"You're awfully perceptive."
"We may call you barbarians, but even we can tell the difference, given your clean skin and perfect teeth. Plus, you're our mysterious guests."
"People are like sheep, and they need a shepherd to hold them. What better than the people entrusted by the Gods?"
Isaac paused, pressing his fingers against his lips.
"Rather, people need something to do to put off their mind from the constant fact that death is inevitable. My great-grandfather's words."
Herm smiled with a shit-eating grin.
"Exactly, that's what power gives them, control them with ropes made of delusion.
For a split second, Isaac watched as Herm's soft, resplendent toga turned into a dark two piece suit, with the Three Stars pinned on it.
Isaac smiled back.
"How about I show you around."
"So you're saying, you feed your entire citizenry with these foods?" She asked, holding a platter of Soy Beef, the raw imitation of the actual food they were used to.
"Yes. Almost 3 billion of our citizenry, including our Armed Forces are fed three times a day with that food. Right there."
A bit of a lie, as that current product was the latest of Japanese innovation, not North American.
"They must live like the Gods!"
A clash of metal against metal broke Lopez's words as they tired to form, his eyes looking over with laughter as the High Dwarf slashed his sword against the polymer chainmail, a deep gash protruding from the torso.
In a mixed noises of pants, coughs, and gasps, the sweaty, drunken face turned to him with his muscles looking like melted metal and weighed twice as heavy.
"I have accomplished your challenge."
Lopez smiled, and bowed in defeat.
"It appears you have bested me. But it took you longer than you admitted, right?"
The panting mess of a dwarf mustered a nod of approval, caressing the geometric patterns of the armor.
"While our dwarven brethren are undeniable in their forging abilities, the abilities of this 3D printing cannot be underestimated."
"We got rid of our chain for plate armor, for you a lot to do it all over again, just with fancy new materials.
"Change of tactics. This armor is not completely impervious to combat, but can be repaired on the field, cheap, and it doesn't matter as your enemies are using long range weaponry." Lopez said to the man, before turning his gaze to the tour.
"The Future is at your fingertips. Enjoy the party everyone."
Sandro Lopez smiled with a glint as he herded the frightened nobles through the tour of the Exhibition with a sheepdog's ferocity, as they saw the glitz and glamour of 22nd Centuries of learning, weaving into their brains and overwhelming them that they couldn't see the thin strand of wire embedded into it.
As he ushered the guest to more drinks to loosen their tongues, he hoped that the data acquired from this event would be worth it for the next phase of operations. Luckily, no one understood how biometrics and bugs worked.
As the noise and flood of people began to subside, Lopez took a break, taking the last cooled water bottle in the glass fridge in a kitchen exhibit.
Overall, it was a success, showcasing fields such as the military, agriculture, finance. Some were mere spectacle, but the rest were a bit ancient, others practical and revolutionary especially for an empire that acted like Rome.
He exited the section of modernity, and entered into another timeline as he watched people drunken on euphoria and revelry on their chairs, as the songs gave a vibrant mood matched by the magical lights above, that only sunk deep into the night.
And he indulged in it's sweetness, sinking his teeth on it. Leaving him satisfied with the results, as the right people had their ears lended to him.
It was then, the nagging bitter question hit him as he tasted victory.
Why the hell are people here?
Lopez touched the concrete column as he brushed his hands on the pillar, feeling its life story to him. It was old, older than the columns at Washington DC. One thing it couldn't tell him was why.
He'd done recon flights, used hardware for tasks not intended for their purpose and their limits, and dissected and harvested the various races biological data without consent, from both deceased and live bodies, he consumed the data presented itself like a man starved, yet the picture created was like several chunks of puzzle pieces that filled up the entire board.
It was interesting to see that the Humans here matched on Earth, and more interesting was the match between humans and the demi races were close enough that his Xenobiologist told him, 'you might as well tell me that beastiality occured and I would've believed you.'.
He found himself staring at a large painting on the wall, describing a vivid scene.
A Roman soldier wearing ornate armor standing atop of a vibrant hill, surrounded by lush, green forests below him, untouched, and above naked figures of people with exaggerated proportions gestured for them to enter. He could see others beside the soldier in different sets of uniforms and weapons, quarrelling with one another.
"Ah, our ancestors entered Elysium."
Lopez blinked his eyes, the voice shocking his nerves, as he saw the old man wearing pure white robes.
High Priest Lyra appeared beside him, his cane resting on his left side, his wrinkled face and weathered eyes looking at the painting with extreme reverence.
"They called themselves the legions, the warriors of Rome. Loyal to the Empire until the end. Until, of course, they were abandoned, left to die."
"Left to die, huh." Lopez answered, softly.
"According to the Eternal Scholars of Ra, they were slaughtered and isolated. They prayed to the gods for salvation. And they came. And gave them mercy for sanctuary in Elysium, even to those who didn't believe."
"Don't you believe in God, back in your world?"
"No." Lopez said without remorse.
"How could you justify letting such atrocities and untold suffering happen under their watch?" Lopez glowered, his face burning as bright as the endless fires on the cities of Mars that day, emotions screaming at him like the unanswered masses left behind to die, Sirius, Scorpio, Vinland, Mars. Worlds he condemned to the Lanky Onslaught.
And against that blazing flame, Lyra melted, his legs shaking from holding of the immense pressure forced on the raging monster, sputtering out a mixture of letters and words
"It is their will. Such measures should be accepted as a–."
His stared burned him to his barest components, burning away that soft demeanor of a diplomat and revealing the meticulous Fleet Uniform beneath it. The fire within him forging with the pure hate he'd been feeling with one word.
"Bullshit." He shot out in pure vitriol at the priest, the word impacting his heart.
"Their will, my ass. I'll make my own will, one where I do what I can by my own terms."
"I may not be well versed into politics, but I am the High Disciple for the God of Order, and the defender of an intricate balance upheld for thousands of years, and anyone who disturbs that balance? That's my interest."
Lyra tried to fight back, but Lopez watched as the man stopped, his mind clouded in thought, before looking at him with a distasteful look.
"It seems that you have fallen into Hardy's interest. I do hope you'll survive."
The High Priest then left, his footsteps slamming against the ground with rage.
Sugawara burned the back of Lopez's head with blinding rage as he danced with the local nobility around them, using them as a fiddle, just like him.
It was supposed to be a joint diplomatic front, a sign of cooperation between two powers, but Sugawara was too drained as the more meetings come by as Lopez soaked it all up as he glowed brightly with the crowd around him, using his Masters in International Relations with high results.
And Sugawara, not even known in diplomatic circles in Japan. Brought as a sacrificial lamb to be gobbled up by Lopez.
The music turned into another, softer one, and the young Japanese Diplomat turned to look at the nobles dancing in the ballroom, amidst the loud rambunctiousness of decay of morality. The Head Diplomat watched with curiosity as some of the men were dressed to dance with the natives, trying to bridge the gaps between the two cultures.
"Care to Dance?"
He turned, to see a noble dressed in regal frilly attire, yet one that highlighted her curves in a lightly sensual way. She glowed at Sugarawa, as she gave him an invitation with a smile as sweet as perfume from her pink hair.
But Sugarawa's lips didn't open before he was whisked away into the center stage, sinking into the bodies of men and women.
Sugawara felt the touch of her hand. It felt warm, comforting, just like the rest of her as he met her wondrous gaze. It was as if he was drawn in by a black hole of euphoria, unraveling him into jelly as they moved in the space between the stars.
As they danced, it was as if it was not one unified movement, rather a chaos of steps and moves that gave a horrific view. Yet Sugawara was drawn to her smile, enraptured and swallowed whole by it, the music angelic pulling him in, lulling him to sleep by the perfume of her cherry pink hair.
It was then he caught another one's attention that brought him to back, that drew his eyes away from the girl, and took his breath in exchange for his gaze.
His eyes scanned with the barest of subtleties as he gazed at the many eyes looking at him, seeing the many who gazed at him with thinly veiled astonishment, before landing whose soul held genuine emotion.
It was the bunny girl. Unlike the woman in his arms full of sweetness, she was soft and warm, a sharp contrast to her sharp and revealing dress.
The other one, felt as if she was merely a body trudging, but this one was different as she moved with a deadly sharpness, which came in the form of a sharp, knowing smile.
But she was alone, as people directly avoided eye contact and whispered into her back. The girl looked downtrodden, ears flopped down.
"Oh her? That's just Zorzal's whore. Don't pay attention to her." His partner whispered sensually, with a hint of bitterness as she looked at her partner.
That bitterness broke his immersion, tearing him away from her embrace, causing him to remember what he was here to do.
Sugawara looked at her coldly, before rudely ending the dance, and reentering the political dance, with a thin line afforded to him, directly to the Bunny Warrior.
Sadera needs to learn the true value of a person.
Unfazed, he walked up the bunny girl.
"May I have this dance?" He asked.
She smirked ears perked up, before offering her hand.
"Do you hear that music?" She asked, causing her to crane his head to it. It seemed Angelic, pure and soft, a stark contrast to the modern synth, and K-pop that dominated Earth. The man felt warmth in the glow. Tyuule smiled as she saw his childish curiosity melt the mask he wore.
"Elves, renowned for their beauty and longevity, but for Bunny Warriors? Seen little more than wastes."
Sugarawa looked her straight in the eye, embarrassed.
"I'm sure with the recent negotiations and treaty, we can offer you-"
Tyuule shook her head, as if entertaining a child's question.
"But that wouldn't be enough, wouldn't it? You severely misunderstood Saderan Pride. But you are keeping an eye on them with your little birds." She said, her soft giggling turning the man's face beet red.
"We're doing Simple surveying." He stammered out, revealing an open secret that didn't sting as much as Task Force Blue.
The bunny girl began to weave through the closing crowd, before whispering into his ear.
"Perhaps we can work together?"
Sugawara narrowed his eyes. He wasn't taking that chance, even as he was being consumed by a person more knowledgeable in this than he could.
"What makes you think that?" He asked, looking at her directly.
A few moments passed, before a small whisper.
"I am the Queen of the Bunny Warriors."
Sugawara's footing fell despite Tyuule's superhuman grip, causing them to nearly tumble, before feeling a sharp claw digging into his suit. They trudged on, swaying like leaves in the wind.
"Stand still, Child. I'll take over the reins." She growled, looking into his eyes.
A raspy response came out of Sugawara's mouth, but was stopped with a single finger sensually placed on his lips.
"Ask the bunny warrior you have about Tyuule, and I'll keep in touch."
He narrowed his eyes, trying to grasp the fleeting bits of memories that were whisked off to the wind, to no avail. He knew that incident that nearly started broke the budding relations, but never dug deep as it was hoarded by Lopez.
He didn't even know her name.
By the time the exchange was over, Sugawara was switched to another person with expert skill, kept intact except with the note in his shirt pocket.
Tyuule gazed at the pink-haired noble, and nodded. The woman smiled, before disappearing into the crowd.
Lieutenant Dahl shook the hand of the other person with her weary one, giving out a smile that seemed to crash and burn soon.
Meanwhile, Saber 5, or Captain Utkin, flaunted it with vigour, as they traversed through the rows of starry eyed nobles and common people with a large sludge of prepared phrases and mass manufactured lies. Both were showered with riches and reverence, and the Shrike Mock-up in front of them with wonder.
Dahl smirked at their attention to pure strength, and the massive fighter jet represented that.
A simple sortie landed them into the spotlight of this nation, and their story bursted into legend.
"A couple of your fans are watching." Utkin nodded, pointing at a group.
"Thanks for the notice, Chief."
Her eyes landed on a pink haired girl, wearing elaborate clothing. And staring at her with childlike wonder.
Dahl gave her infamous Ms. North America smile, opening her to them.
"Hello!"
The woman fell back from the ambush, eyes torn off from the jet to hers. Dahl smirked, catching a glimpse of the eyes she held on it. It wasn't reverence or fear, it was admiration and determination. The woman in front of her had eyes like her during that day on the screen when Operation Invictus began.
"Umm. This… Shrike, it's a magnificent, deadly beast."
Dahl caressed her hand on the model, feeling the disapointing plastic instead of the confident iron meeting her hand, yet she patted it as if it were.
"Yes she is. Had to fight hard to get a seat in these things, even in wartime easing of restrictions."
H-how fast does this thing go?"
"Three times the speed of sound."
She watched as the proud noble woman's mind froze at the thought, as she stood silent for a few minutes.
"How does one go faster than the speed of sound?"
"With extremely powerful engines, and a set of hands to tame the things." She said, showing her hands.
"Does it hurt when flying at those speeds? I heard women can't pilot because their body's might not adapt."
Dahl snorted.
"Glad to know some things stay the same."
Dahl showed a much more sinister smile, and turned to the Shrike Flight Simulator.
"Wanna find out?"
Pina walked delicately as she was stuck in a thin line between the towering pressure she was stuck in, yet she walked in that line full of grace, a smile gently placed on her face as she tried to mold herself into a cohesive structure carefully structured since the founding of this kingdom.
Her smile was satisfactory for her tutors, clothing ornate and hairstyle restrained in braids to establish dominance and authority, movements that have been strictly imposed on her like a fighter and a noblewoman, words tamed and domesticated to ensure that not a single word can wage war against her rivals. It was the rules they were all supposed to follow.
Yet her smile was a bit crooked, movement stiffened as she buckled under the pressure, years of royal training had been eroded by the wave of eyes that swarmed around her, causing her to fall behind her brother, as to follow protocol.
It was better than the alternative. It was exhausting and sapped a lot of her seeing their smiles twisted, trying to guess what behind the curtain lies, as she looked on enviously to her older brothers as they spoke with high military and political officials about important matters.
"Oh Pina! Have you met my son? Such a fine specimen." the Governor of some mining province asked, smiling with his mask.
"Oh, I haven't, but send it to my Father for his approval." She replied coldly, holding back the venom in her words.
She sighed, her body exhausted from such humiliation that nearly cracked her mask.
But she was Princess Pina, and her birth had responsibilities as the ruling family, even if she was a distant threat, for the good of the Empire and its future.
It was then, a Senator approached her, eyes strong as his hulking spaulders, as his feet rumbled on the granite flooring. Pina felt the shock coursing within her as she looked at the towering Senator, his face blasted with wrinkles, tearing of any unique features that could land her any resemblance to the people she was trained to remember.
"Hello, Your Highness!" He beamed with drunken vigor, his hoarse voice rattling Pina's thoughts into jumbled incoherence.
"Hello, Senator..."
"Barthac of Lovsal." He corrected, his smile not breaking from Pina not remembering such a rural province.
His smile was like hers, meticulously handcrafted to appear as jovial to lesser peasants. Yet Pina had worn hers, and decided to entertain the man, hoping to establish a connection with her.
"Your Highness, I was worried about your wellbeing in Italica. I thank the Gods that you had survived, and your order exceeded expectations." He noted, appearing worried for her. Pina tried to chisel why such an important Senator would act out of his way. As such, Pina made her move.
"It was a harrowing experience. Luckily, we sorted out the Formal Family quarrel." Pina said, sighing.
Barthac moved one more time, stepping forward.
"But the city didn't fall, thanks to you."
Pina beamed, before brushing her hair.
"Why thank you, but those Americans and Japanese greatly assisted us."
Barthac chuckled.
"I imagine so, given how fast they were. How impressive they were."
Pina's mask cracked, as the venom from Brutus' mouth seeped into herself, corroding her self esteem into a pile of slop. Yet she continued to smile at him, and kindly excused herself.
"Pina, Shall we look at the booths of the North Americans?" He smiled warmly.
Like a moth to a flame, Pina joined her brother. It was then he suddenly grabbed her hand, before looking at her with a cold voice.
"Stay close to me, Father will not like it if we were to separate."
A cold chill stabbed Pina. This was still public, no matter how debauched the party was beginning, her father still had his eyes on them.
They crossed the sea of peoples and islands of couches, the people parting from their direction as their strong family line warded them off as they reached the outer columns that faced the expansive courtyard.
But the mask immediately melted by the burning curiosity that both of them had, as the several booths presented themselves to them in their white tapestry.
Pina's eyes were barraged with a confusing array of bright and colourful lights whose warm light beckoned to her in the various stalls, setting her into a trance as she was drawn in. She was sent to another world, as the men and women in the booths relaxed their faces, their clothes humble in comparison to the Saderan's ornate togas, but yet formal, acting with genuine emotion rather than the masks the people inside were fond of wearing. It sent her in a fit of confusion, as she saw how truly unorderly they were, even if they were soldiers.
Her brother was even worse, as his curiosity was too great for his royal mannerisms, reverting him to a child as he talked with a waiting North American on some headgear and smooth black brick.
She gazed at a booth called limb reconstruction, where various limbs made of metal were presented.
It wasn't really a impressive achievement on her, since she could always just ask a follower of Mirrita to reattach limbs, but she noted the distinct voluptuous form of the High Priestess looking down on some mechanical machine, engaging with a man in which her soft voice melting him into a red mess and turquoise clothing. There was no order here, as the people here were free flowing, in comparison.
Her eyes however, landed on one booth. It didn't have fancy lights or new fangled technology.
She slowly crawled towards it, her curiosity dragging her to it, earning a confused stare from the Attendant.
"What's this?" She asked.
The eye piece from the attendant spotted a few lines of yellow light before he spoke.
"NAC culture, your Highness."
She stared at the numerous paintings before her, a painting of a field, of an elderly couple, a sort of tavern in a dark street, and a woman resting in a field, staring at houses. Unlike the Empire's painters and sculptors, its shadows and color, and the raw emotion lingering beneath was something that was on par with the elves.
It was then she heard the song around the booth. It was not as great as the Elves, but it was different, as it spoke raw emotion just like the art all around her.
She turned to the North American, whose eyes only laid on her. She casually dismissed it.
"What song is this?"
"North American Anthem." the attendant responded, carefully glancing around. Pina scratched her head, disregarding royal protocol.
"Why such traitorous language?"
The attendant looked around in fear, and leaned in closer, breaking another rule.
"Our continent was called the new world, where only wilderness lingered. Where people can forge new beginnings, new paths for themselves without the ire of tyranny of the old world."
"Trading security for chaos?" She asked, raising her eyebrow. But the attendant then smiled.
"We're still here, aren't we? Not only did we survive, we thrived. And those Empires of tyranny are gone, grinded to dust or had been forced to emulate our predecessor states."
She couldn't answer that, and instead turned her gaze at the Commonwealth Constitution, reading it deeply, breaking apart the horrific part of her mind of the blasphemous parts of it.
Power is not given by divine right, but by the consent of the people.
Such a heretic phrase melted her mind. Why would a government risk its security for instability? And how such a nation thrived, and created beautiful works such as these?
A voice broke her thoughts, causing her to realize her neck strain.
"Your Highness!" A voice called, belonging to her subordinate Hamilton, who wore a lesser toga and a ponytail on one side of face. She turned, happiness bubbling in her mind.
Before they fell out of her under the weight of astonishment of the woman before her.
It was a tall woman, staring down at her with a comforting smile.
"Hello, I am Athena, the Goddess of Wisdom of the Greeks. Any questions you may ask, and I shall try to fulfil it."
"It's an AI!"
She gazed at the woman before her. It seemed like a person, but looking closely, her movements were stiff and bony, like a ghoul, a puppet.
"What is an AI?" She wondered aloud, watching her details from top to bottom.
"I am an Artificial Mind, created by man and not by nature. I am an informative AI, but many of my fellow AI's are used as Targeting and Combat Programs, Training Programs, as well as Engineering AI."
"Are you alive?"
The woman shook her head.
"I'm not advanced enough to accomplish such feats as my fellow AIs. I am used to teaching young students all over the Commonwealth with my superior collective intellect."
"Like the Elvish tutors!" Hamilton replied, eyes widened.
Immediately, Pina nodded, before inputting her own question, feeling the challenge.
"Is Earth a paradise?" Pina asked.
A few moments passed, as Pina bated her breath as the AI used to construct her answer.
"I'm sorry. I can't seem to answer that question."
Pina raised her eyebrows in disbelief, and wondered if it was a joke, yet the lady looked at her with sad eyes.
With a sigh, she eventually asked another question.
"Is the North American Commonwealth a paradise?"
"The North American Commonwealth is a Superpower with the highest accumulated wealth, Military, and Cultural supremacy on Earth and all remaining Interstellar colonies, owing to its predecessor, the United States of America."
Pina rolled her eyes. The Empire's words are almost exactly like this.
"Are people happy?"
"The Entire Population of Three Billion Citizens are given food, clothing and shelter, as well as compulsory basic education that can create an educated workforce."
An answer that lacked satisfaction. Such a definition could almost match as being a prisoner.
She stared into the globe, seeing the Continent outlined on the outside of the world. It was smaller than Falmart, yet exceeded in populations several times larger than it.
"Is the North American Commonwealth a utopia?"
"I'm sorry, I can't answer that question."
It was then a voice laced with femininity broke her trance.
"Ma'am. Please do not try to ruin the AI. It's worth millions of Commonwealth dollars."
She turned to meet the frosty blue eyes nearly hidden below a curtain of blonde hair peering into her. Her face was rough and coarse in stark contrast to Pina's smooth skin, but she carried the cold air of seriousness like a cape, forcibly finding the question of her being there.
She looked down below her eye, seeing the smooth black tunic and blue trousers hiding her form. Spaceborne Infantry, she recalled.
"You're part of Isaac's team."
She nodded. "Yes ma'am. I'm the one with the long barreled rifle." She then gestired with her hand the size of it.
She turned to Hamilton, giving a small hand wave that gave Hamilton her blood rushing.
"Corporal Iris Fischer, ma'am." She gazed into the inquiry, and closed the distance between them.
"You're not going to get an answer like that on NAC property. You really think they'll tell you our flaws?"
"Then let me ask you then."
Corporal Fischer sighed.
"When you're on top of the food chain, the only enemy is you."
"Lady Fisch-"
Iris shook her head.
"I'm not… I'm just Corporal Fischer." She said, exasperated.
She raised her eyebrow, but then she heard the shrill scream of Panache rang through her ears, causing her heart to drop.
Her legs ran towards the sound, before another came running from the opposite side.
"Pina?" Her brother asked in the sea of people. "Where are you?"
The sound hit her like a shot to the gut. She was a part of the Royal Family, she had her duties. But she had a friend in need.
Without any hesitation, she turned to Iris, whose face was more angrier than hers for some reason.
"You have to help me."
Iris raised an eyebrow as she turned back to the princess, anger turning to confusion.
"My friend is in danger, I need to help her."
That playful demeanor of hers fell to a cold stare to a drop of a hat.
"Alright."
"...what?"
"Do you want to save your friend or not, follow my words exactly. Now hide here." She pointed to the curtains behind the booth.
She felt the pressure of both sides crushing her breath, forcing her to choose, as every step Diabo took forcibly a second each.
She squeezed a decision, causing her body to act accordingly to hide in the curtain with Hamilton, just as she caught Diabo's hair growing closer.
They ran, and disappeared into the crowd.
In the numerous booths dotted in the grounds, Pina and Hamilton tracked Panache down, before landing on a booth labelled 'Fleet Air Arm'. It was one of the larger ones, as it had fitted that wondrous flying craft. Yet she was too busy looking for Panache.
Pina's eyes were puzzled as she caught the pink haired knight sitting in some comfortable seat with a back, her eyes wrapped around some large item. She appeared still, relaxed on her chair, except for her right hand, trying to move a thick, black stick. Her teeth gritted as her hand tried to pull the stick.
The side of the seat was labelled "saddle of Shrike Fighter Craft."
She watched as the booth showed a gleaming window of the capitol, or it was until Panache gasped, wildly trying to control the large beast with her hands,
She failed, and immediately crashed into what appeared to be the Imperial Market.
And she escaped the death basket, immediately gasping for air, earning a pat in the back by Lady Dahl.
"Congrats Kid. You dropped the plane from orbit and didn't immediately crash it into the ground. Work on your landing skills, and you might just qualify."
Panache looked around wildly and struggled by the intense stare of the light, ripped from the false reality as they fell on Pina.
"Pin- Your Highness!" She spat out, the formality in her voice not thick enough to hide her bewildered state, but she tried as she stood up to her Captain.
"Panache… We could hear your screams from outside the booth." Pina noted.
Panache giggled.
"I'm sorry, your Highness."
"Now, if you're alright, then me and Hamilton will.." She turned, shocked by seeing the absence of Hamilton.
Panache was also bewildered, until she turned to see her talking to Sir Utkin and Lady Dahl amicably about the seat, holding the weird object in her hands.
Pina laughed, along with Panache, her mask finally breaking apart, as she finally was infected by euphoria.
Lopez stared into the Circus grounds, seeing the gladiators forces to fight on another to their last breath, choked by the collars that held them under a cloud of drunken cries.
Panem et circenses. That was the quote right? The city and the larger empire was mostly free of any threats, and this was their taste of reprieve.
"Give them bread and circuses, and they will never revolt."
He'd have to give a lot of bread and circus to appease them.
"Reminds you of Something, Mr. Lopez?"
He turned, seeing the bald internal minister walking with him with a smile. Lopez tensed up, but a hand gesture from Marcus told him to calm down. Instead, Lopez smiled back.
"How's that drink of yours, Marcus? Finest wine from your Ancestor's homeland."
Marcus tipped the wine to an acute angle, smelling the liquid, and slowly sipped it.
"A bit sweeter, but it lacks the spice we have. Such a large divergence that Terra might be a strange world after all."
Lopez nodded, staring down at the colosseum.
"Same here. I'm quite bizarre of the nation you made yourself, and how I will adjust to such a place. I expected something different."
"Oh? How so?" Marcus asked, sipping his wine.
Lopez brushed his hand against the sky, watching every dot that sparkled in his eye.
"Join the Corps, See the Galaxy. And maybe a spot in a colony."
Marcus laughed.
"I see your one of them. Not to worry. Sadera is a beautiful place, yet untainted by industrialization. Hopefully we can learn your lessons."
Marcus looked up, seeing the stars dotted in the night skies, eyes brimming with curiosity. Lopez sighed, chuckling.
"Yet. One day, we can be equal to one another."
"Aye. It will be an interesting day once we meet each other, in the stars."
Lopez merely stared above, seeing the fast lights of the ship above him.
"Yeah, one day."
As the night began to take control of the skies, the party still continued on with great fervor as two worlds intermingled with one another, exchanging their culture and technology.
Yet above, deep within the cold depths of NACS Mexico City, there were 40 men and women who didn't share this sentiment, only eager to hide in the darkness that the conference room allowed against the dim light of the presentation.
In front of these men was a weathered husk of a man, once full of life and vigour now bled out to dry from years of orders. He stared at the dark eyes of the recruits, his uniform covered in ribbons scarred him for every mission.
"Hello, I am Major Hisegawa, and to the SEALs, I am the Commanding officer to the JS Tokyo's SpecWar Company."
The troops merely nodded without speaking a single word, instead delving into the mission briefing.
"But to my Troops, you know me as Tanuki."
None of the American troops had any discernible reaction from the distinct callsign.
Without missing a beat, he continued.
"Both the Pacific Alliance and North American Secretaries Defense have designated me as CO for the newly created Joint Task Force Blue."
The hologram showed several topographical maps, as well as local maps sourced unconventionally. Several spots were marked, ones where fertile lands, and urban areas were located.
"We have collected sufficient data on the targets. However, we are lacking in so many places. Both of our governments have made it a priority to fix this problem."
Then another slide was shown, this time, presenting words that intrigued them all.
"OPERATION KEYSTONE. CONDUCTING CLANDESTINE MILITARY OPERATIONS FOR HUMINT INTELLIGENCE GATHERING."
Hey guys, an important announcement.
1: I forgot to add in Chapter 10. The elvish architecture is similar to Art Nouveau, or generally the antithesis of architecture of the Industrialization period.
2: IT'S NO SECRET THAT THIS FANFIC IS POORLY EDITED. It looks like a final draft more than anything. No concrete personalities, grammar and editing errors, Worldbuiding decisions, and proper emotion. As such, the prior chapters will be reedited to suit your eyes and mind for a proper experience. I hope you can forgive me for the subpar output. Hopefully, April or May will be the deadline for the credited chapters.
3: As well as in April or May, I will have a proper upload schedule. This current method is too inefficient and chaotic. I'll streamline it to one chapter per month, and optimistically, once every two weeks.
Have a great day, and I'll see you until then.