"Defeat.
There is no better word for describing what we suffered through. After that battle in 19th of September our forces were crushed. We overestimated ourselves, we underestimated how much power Britannia can project. It was completely the fault of commanders in the operation – no, simply nobody knew how to properly deal with enemy in conditions we found ourselves in. Theory of guerilla warfare was unknown for us; we were forced to adapt in order to survive. Ironic, really. We had to follow Britannian principles to get equal footing.
Our rebel cells were growing more independent, more dispersed, maneuverable and battle-ready. Even in this condition we sadly found out, that Britannia was impossible to fight alone. And that is the main thing fueling my grief – if only we had full-support from E.U.!"
From "Diary of Amazonian Rebel – How to fight Britannia in jungles" Paris, 1993. Author unknown.
Chapter VII
Pursuit
Amazonas, on the border of Area 5
20th of September, 1972, 08:00
The campsite was growing rapidly. From the small observation post for Britannian Airforce yesterday, in was expanded to a minor settlement in a day. Lightly guarded by a few infantrymen, its existence was secret to anybody else outside of the highest command in the Area 5.
Or, simply put, only Charles knew about it, others only guessing it was some sort of prison.
"How is the equipment?"
"Already in place, Master V.V." A hooded man responded. He was no older than thirty, but even less could`ve been true about his boss himself – from the looks he was a small boy! "First expedition to the Gates will start in no time."
"Good. Now, Gentlemen," V.V. spoke, his hands rose, gesturing at what is now just a trashed tables and a few people, but what would grow to be much, much more powerful, "Welcome to the Geass Directorate!"
Bogota Settlement, Area 5
26th of September, 1972
Boring.
That was the only word on his mind. In the previous timeline, he had spent more time divulging into Geass and Ragnarok, finding the state matters to be too mundane. Of course, he needed to go through all of it, as to getting his hands on the throne made Ragnarok possible, for the same thing he made 4 wives before he assumed the post and a few children.
Now, he still was of the same opinion, but for the other reason.
Marianne. He had found her in the previous timeline, taking an important place in his life. When V.V. had betrayed him and killed her, the only thing that kept him on the way to Ragnarok was a mere chance to get her back into her body. What D.S. had said to him resurrected the question he was tormenting himself for a good time – could his actions change too much? Could he change Marianne that much, that she would be polar opposite to the one he fell in love with?
His paranoia was only fueled by recent appearance of D.S. She was tiring his nerves, and Charles couldn`t tell, what exactly did she even want him to do. What if she didn`t even care what he does? Lelouch won`t be born in the next 27 years, so her interest may touch only how he`d raise him. Or she wanted to taunt his morale and try to make him less aggressive. This is, in itself, extremely naïve and Charles was sure she wasn`t really expecting him to be as merciful or caring as…what was her name? Oh, yes, to be as caring as Euphemia. But he did expect her to bring back Marianne and her memories, and D.S. has said nothing about it, making her decision being too unknown for his liking.
Charles breathed out. This inner debacle has appeared again and could lead to nowhere. There was no point in worrying about it before he met her again. And until he did so – he should get much more power into his hands, so that he could get rid of his brother immediately should he become jealous yet again.
And now – he had a speech to make.
"Presenting – His Highness Charles zi Britannia, 17th Prince of Holy Britannian Empire and 21st in line to the Imperial Throne!" a soldier proclaimed to the entire world to hear.
He placed his hands firmly on the tribune, supporting himself with it. He glanced at the text before him, before starting in his firm fashion.
"'Might makes right' is a principle that defines the true nature of the world. Britannia fought through dozens of enemies in its modern history. We plundered, we conquered anybody, who stood in our way. By withstanding the storms of Napoleon, by surviving and conquering the North America, by achieving victory in the Pacific War and now by making our presence in South America unshakeable, we proven ourselves to be strong, backing our words with a sword."
"Even now, our mighty Homeland is faring much better than sham-democracies of Europe, whose experiment in rule of the people brought oligarchy, who cares not of their people!"
Officers in the hall were listening, most of them being the ones to crush rebels in the Area. All of them were staunch militarists, enraptured by unwavering optimism and patriotism capturing the audience.
It wasn`t the same scene as Charles used to, the hall being much smaller than in his speeches as Emperor in Pendragon. But it didn`t make him hesitate – he felt as he himself was infected by their celebration of victory week ago. Only the immediate audience was smaller, and he didn`t care about it at all.
"And even now, there are reckless idiots, willing to challenge us on the territory we justly claim as ours by rites of conquest. As such, when Area 5 was cleansed from terrorists fighting against us, we saw evidence of E.U. smuggling tens of thousands of units of weaponry to the terrorists! The same E.U., that despises crime, arms drug cartels on our territory. The same E.U., that despises non-democratic states, helped to build a Confederation – weak terrorist failed-state, with a pathetic monarch who can easily be deemed as 'tyrant' by E.U. metrics."
Smith stood in the first line. He informed the prince about his findings, giving an extensive report on modern German weapons and trained spec-ops instructors helping the groups, some of them making way in their leadership. Surprisingly, Charles wasn`t stunned by the news, only relieved.
When the Colonel asked him why, he only responded that "E.U. jumped far too quickly into the net".
Nonetheless, the speech continued. "This thinking and this hypocrisy was the thing that drove countless of our enemies into their graves."
"So, I have a question – are you, European leaders, willing to intervene ever again into our internal matters even at the inevitable prospect of bringing your doom?"
The camera stopped glowing red, indicating the end to the speech. As the audience later begun dispersing, Smith made his way to the prince.
"Nice speech, Your Highness. These German weapons were really pissing off our men," Smith applauded, slowly approaching Charles. "It`s sad we didn`t found out any connection between destroyed Toyota`s and Japan. All of them were imported directly into Britannia, later re-sold to private companies in Area 5. But are you sure we will be able to fight against E.U. in the same time as against others in South America?"
"The main reason for this speech is not to punish, though the speech itself is a good slap to their face," Charles strolled in the direction of his office, away from the tribune, Smith following suit. "No, the point is forcing them to even forget about intervening into my plan. After all, there are no politician in Europe who`d risk his chances on elections by dragging the Union into a possible decade-long conflict across the ocean. Even if it would benefit them strategically."
There was also a different reason – this speech directly touched the strings of the very soul of those, deemed as patriots. By directing his words in a way that would trigger a positive response from officers, soldiers, common man alike, he`d have a good starting point to start on his plan on taking the throne.
"What a mockery of republicanism they are, huh." Smith shrugged. "It really makes you think how they even got to this point. Pure luck, Napoleon, and lack of proper rival."
"Our case isn`t much different, Eric. It`s Ricardo von Britannia who laid the foundations for the Realm. Corrupted nobility is as bad as puppet monarchy in Chinese Federation or idealists of Europe." Prince gracefully sat in his chair; his office now repaired from the infiltration a week ago. He tapped the button on his table, ordering his secretary to bring tea. "It`s part of the reason why I grew to dislike audiences of nobles with the emperor. Their constant bickering and spinelessness making me sick."
'Wait, did we even have such audiences in the last 15 years? Maybe His Highness is mistaken…No-no, I must`ve forgotten something, not him,' Eric stared into ceiling for a few good seconds, trying to recall any such events.
"And this is where South American conquest plays in – making a working administration and spreading out its standards across the Realm?" Colonel asked, receiving a nod in response. "By making a successful case of Area, ruled without a council of nobles overseeing every decision of a Viceroy, Britannia will start to move from the constant assassinations or plots."
Eric furrowed, "The bloodshed won`t stop until there will be a strong emperor to enforce these changes and punish those opposing it. Will the conquest of entire continent really end the bloodshed in the capital?"
Charles shrugged, turning his chair more to the window. There was some beauty in this Area, "This will create a save heaven for those unwilling to partake in this constant infighting, as well as will strengthen my positions in court to take the throne for myself."
Finally, the tea arrived, stopping him for a second.
"What of the terrorist cells? How are your Police dealing with them?"
"Quite nicely, Your Highness. Information you provided from the captured enemies was useful." Smith sipped his tea, recalling the last reports. "Sadly, a lot of them are fleeing the Area, so we sometimes find only leftover and mostly heavy equipment and burnt files."
In the last week, most of the insurgents or their financial supporters had been rounded up and imprisoned, most of them being scheduled to be later executed.
E.U. had already raised concerns over the matter, stating that it was a cleanse of political opponents, and that even the small terrorists deserved to have lawyers to defend in court, and not be executed without it. But after this speech, that effectively discredited E.U. presence on the continent, Smith was sure that even they would shut up and move on.
27th of September, 1972
Deep into Amazonas
Jeanne stood in the middle of a camp, with evening light illuminating her young face. She was no older than her late-twenties, yet she mentally was far older – war made all of them mature. Reichard was the oldest in the group. While he never stated his age, some guessed he was somewhere in his thirties.
Her subordinates didn`t bother with establishing the camp properly, ready to abandon it the moment Britannians would arrive. They were scattered, bruised, wounded and exhausted. And the worst part – they were now much severely outnumbered than ever before. Her German friend had already made preparations to move out as soon as possible, drawing out maps for their long march south. Their destination was still far away, a small tribal settlement closer to Amazona`s Delta. From there, they would establish military presence along the river, preparing their forces for another strike.
Reichard went as far as by dictating how each group should operate if enemy airforce was spotted, causing Jeanne to be slightly surprised at this, so she decided to speak with him.
"Say, Reichard," she turned her attention to him, "how did you learn how to avoid bombers?"
He was fixing a trophy Britannian grenade launcher, trying to play with its sights, before he turned around to face her. "Hm? Oh, dat. Just pure intuition on my part. Ze Brits are still operating by their old doctrines, zo adapting to their maneuvers isn`t dat hard."
"You don`t use intuition, Reichard," she poked him in the shoulder. "You are our senior instructor for the men in our group. You personally trained them to operate our weapons, when we just got them in our hands. How do you know it?"
He tensed up. "I don`t believe dat matters, Jeanne. You know I was in German military once."
"But why have you joined us, here? You had quite literally everything you would wish to have in your Berlin or Frankfurt."
"That…is a long story. Forgive me, Jeanne, I really want to explain it, yet I can`t." He looked down, drawing his hands on her shoulders afterwards. "Just, trust me. I would never wish evil for this land or for you. My reasons I`d like to keep for myself."
She looked him in the eyes. Maybe he lost somebody? Jeanne didn`t wish to reopen his trauma, if he was fighting because of it.
"I see. Sorry, if I brought back bad memories."
"Oh, that`s nothing, really."
When he had turned back to his captured grenade launcher, Jeanne left him. She tried to find solace in her thoughts, in sight of the trees around.
'If that`s really true, then could I really blame him for not disclosing?' Her green eyes wandered to the stars, that had begun to appear with sun settling in west of the valley. 'Father, wherever you are, do you think I`m doing everything right? Was my fight for justice as noble as yours? You taught me, that setbacks are to be expected.
But this…can we really survive this storm?'
28th of September, 1972
Dallas, Homeland
The atmosphere reeked of fury and anger. Worst of all – Duke Alexander of Texas was blamed for this development.
"If not for you, we`d kill that young upstart! Now…" Duchess Janette took a dramatic pause, "He`s unreachable and he`s building his private fiefdom! We`d have to be a lot more careful not to trigger his attention."
"Our partners from the E.U. are having mixed opinion on the issue," an old noble rose up, adjusting his glasses, "While fashion-industry is neutral, as they`d get cotton either way, Military-Industrial Complex is furious, promising a direct retribution for Charles closing the weapons market to the South America. They threat to break our good relationship because of it."
Room wasn`t sure on how to react. While the official state policy regarding the E.U. was hostile, some nobles managed to befriend their colleagues from there, finding out their lifestyles weren't too different. Secret contracts were growing, being beneficial to both sides. If this was to break because of young prince…it could be bad for them.
Waiting for murmurs to end, Alexander rose up. "We have underestimated the boy, that`s true. He crushed petty terrorists, caused both powers on the continent to anger up at his moves, and even managed to piss off the E.U., while stopping them from going into war."
It was no lie – people of Europe didn`t wish for more violence. When Charles directly threatened them with it, governments were shocked to find out that by recent polls – they`d lose in a landslide if they would continue to support rebels. People simply had gone along with prince`s version about rebels being terrorists and criminals, since it wasn`t completely baseless.
"What do you suggest?" Second Princess Aergia asked. "If he let him roam free, then my succession to the throne may be threatened, and none of you would want for it to happen!"
"Please, calm down," Alexander gestured with his hand, before reaching out to his briefcase. "While the prince and his colonels may be impossible to bribe, we can…bring to light a good portion of his civilian and military officers. He can`t keep an eye on all of them."
"So, not only we will get our eyes behind the curtains, but will be able to cut him down when needed…" Aergia mused. This was certainly interesting, and some of other members and agreed with the notion.
"But what of the emperor?!" One spoke up. "I doubt he`d sit around when we will do it!"
This was no secret that Bradwick rei Britannia was supportive of his first son`s child. Yet, not many in the room seriously considered it, some even stiffing a laugh – "We had killed one – would easily kill another! He won`t be able to do anything!"
"And if he would," Alexander raised an empty glass, tapping it a few times, "there is a lot of side effects alcohol may have on monarch`s health. Maybe he`d be wise to ignore champagne if he combines it with supporting the dead man."
28th of September, 1972
La Paz, Palace of Confederacion
Evening light shined on an empty hall. Alberto Buchanan, Caudillo of Confederacion, sat on his throne and watched the sun settle down. By now, he was an emperor in everything but title
From his palace, a beautiful view opened on the Titicaca Lake and on nearby mountain ridges, standing above the major settlement of entire South America. Light nicely illuminated the waters, the hills, and the palace itself. Hall was decorated with paintings of reunification of Latin Americas, after once mighty Spanish Empire lost all of its colonies and Bolivar trying to reforge it into a new superstate.
Whilst ultimately failing to create a united nation, it was up to his Confederacion to defeat Britannia.
"San Caudillo, the guests have arrived"
He glanced at his guard, gesturing him to call them in.
"Hola, San Caudillo," the leader of the group bowed to him. He was certainly of Portuguese descend, most of his group being the same, aside from a few Spanish and German men with him. "We come here with a deal."
Truth be told, he was afraid of what Charles was doing, and same could be said about his guests. Confederacion was a big state, encompassing all of Patagonia and most of the Andes. However, even he didn`t believe his army could withstand alone Britannian one. For this reason, all major players in the South America were funding insurgents to force Britannia out of there.
His guests from Rio Grande weren`t much better. Centered around trade with the E.U. and Americas, their growing economic development was far greater than of any other, but their military forces were out of shape.
"Today`s meeting is of historic importance!" Alberto Buchanan spoke up, raising from the throne. "Recently, independence of both of our states has been placed under threat of Britannian madmen, willing to scorch the earth itself to pacify the people living on it.
"So, my dear ambassadors of Rio Grande, are you ready to unite against the Damocles` sword above our heads?"
"Of course, Sir. In case Britannia would ever move south of Amazonas, our states are to create a defensive union with centralized army and united foreign policy, with Your Majesty as its leader."
He smirked. Essentially, if Britannia would ever conquer the tribes of Amazonas and fight her way to both Confederacion and Rio Grande, he`d become a dictator of both states, unifying them "temporarily" into one structure.
Of course, he`d never allow them to leave the union, whatever hopes of them trying to leave it peacefully being too naïve even for them.
Most of the problems came from indecisive nature of Pierre Chamberval, E.U. President. This damn 'appeaser' helped Charles to make this conflict seem like internal matters of Britannia, and not an international conflict. This way, both states had to rely purely on themselves in the matter of surviving Britannian onslaught.
While Alberto saw an opportunity in it, trade conglomerates in Rio Grande were so afraid of war that they pushed the government into a trap of becoming essentially a protectorate of his, with future integration being not-so-much out of the question. A trap, that he is only wishing to spring when time would come.
"In exchange, economy of Rio Grande fill helps our union to fund this defensive war."
"Good. Now, do you swear your honour and your bank account on not breaking this pact?" He pushed, trying to establish himself completely dominant in the talks.
"Ye-yes. We do not bear any intent on breaking it, as survival of both of our states is at stake."
He ignored the man. "From now on, our states march into the future no longer as different entities. Not as enemies, not as friends, but as allies in one struggle.
From now on, our South American Union will come into existence, replacing both of our states with a noble task of liberating the continent from Brits!"
Borderlands, Area 5
A group of armed men made their way into the jungle tribes. Each had a paper map and a compass.
They were no OSI and far from being on level of SAS, but rangers knew the terrain well. It was to no surprise, considering they were either locals of European descend or Britannians, living for a few generations in the Area 5.
They saw their destination – a small tent camp near a dirt road to the tribes. Rangers hid behind logs and trees, observing the camp from a high ground.
"Wotan!" Group commander called to his Lieutenant. Major was a seasoned commander, by his forties he had managed to earn a few distinctions for eliminating foreign sabotage groups in Area 3, 4 and in Area 5 in his last years.
"Major!"
Major then pointed at the front of the camp. "Take your platoon and clear out the way for our boys. Kohen – your platoon is to eliminate right wing; Tybalt – left wing. I`ll go for their commanders. Prioritize silence in the operation."
"Our main target is him" Major reached out in his coat, revealing a photo of a man in his twenties. He wore a French parade uniform, though his more German face features were also noticeable. "Reichard Messer, Abwehr trainee, now is under command of E.U. Foreign Intelligence Ministry. We believe he is in charge of local terrorists. Orders are to stun and bring him to the base. When he will be secured – we`ll send a signal to helicopter evac."
"Rest are to eliminate?" Wotan asked. Receiving a nod in response, his face turned into a vile grin, "Understood."
"You have your orders – you may start."
Amazonas
Jeanne woke up, her slumber interrupted by something. It was still a deep night in the jungles, so she decided to walk around, writing her short sleep on anxiety.
She poked her head outside. Everything was quiet, only with wind nicely swirling around the camp. When she was in her childhood, she liked such weather for the breeze. Now, she only thought of it as an indicator of something bad to happen.
To Jeanne`s surprise, when she left her tent, her eyes met nobody standing on the watch in or around the camp. She took her assault rifle and bunch of grenades. "I swear, if they fell asleep on their watch, they`d be afraid more than in Britannian prison."
She almost stumbled on the ground near her neighbour's tent. Her eyes looked for what caused her to trip, and she saw a young rebel lying on the ground.
Before Jeanne started to scold him or even tried to wake him up with a stoke of her Sturmgewehr, she felt somebody`s hand on her mouth, causing her to quiet down. Silhouette then faced her, and she recognized the man. It was Reichard.
He took off his hand, later placing before his lips, ordering to be quiet. Jeanne felt curious, and he took her right hand. Reichard placed it on soldiers head, causing her to feel a warm liquid pouring out of him. 'Blood,' she twitched, "When did he…"
"A few minutes ago. Camp is currently under attack. They aren`t professionals on the level of OSI, that`s certain – I spotted them a good while"
She hissed, "So what should we do?"
Reichard turned his head away, staring opposite of her for a few seconds. Jeanne tried to look where he did – there were 4 Britannians making their way to Reichard`s tent. "They probably believe my tent is not empty. I`m the priority target here. Here`s the deal – I will make an ambush on them, while you wake up a few of our men and tell them the situation. Sounds good?"
Jeanne nodded, making her way to her comrades. Reichard stopped her, "They are probably having some other units to evacuate them later. I need you to find my grenade launcher, I left it with Simon."
Leaving her to herself, Reichard checked his machine gun. "Hello, beauty. I won`t be as gentle or accurate as Jeanne, but today we will be crushing a lot of Britannians."
Jeanne made her way through the camp. She calculated each step to not make much sound. It was hard: occasionally, a body or two lied on her path, with a pool of blood beneath them.
She heard quiet steps on her left, so she ducked behind one of the tents. She pressed her ears as close as possible to them.
"Wotan, how`s the situation?" Major asked on the radio.
"..."
"Good. We`re near the target, be ready to assist. Remember – capture him alive."
Jeanne remembered what Reichard said – they were likely after him. She proceeded then to awake members of her group, Simon being the last to wake up. He was, what many would call, a 'friendly giant'. He was a good mechanic and engineer, and he used to operate any type of explosive device.
She took Pedro and Fernandez with her, ordering them to give suppressive fire on her mark. Simon went to look for a better position with his grenade launcher.
Major`s radio cracked, forcing officer to listen to the transmission.
"…"
"Good. Then come to my position, 'Wotan'."
Britannian Major reached first for Reichard`s tent, ordering now-arrived Wotan to check inside of it and to arrest the man. Wotan looked around inside a tent. He found nothing, only a few leftover rounds lying on otherwise orderly bunk, that`d make any Drill Sergeant proud. When he made a first step inside with his rifle on the ready, Reichard started firing.
Wotan felt as somebody threw him back. Major saw a flash, and immediately reached out to his unsuspecting Lieutenant, forcing him by his jacket back. Two men flew back, trying to flee from the rebel`s kill zone.
Major reached for his radio. "Enemy spotted us! Stealth is no longer an option – engage with everything you have!"
Jeanne reached for her rifle, and begun to shoot at any rangers, trying to reinforce the cutoff Major.
"I have an idea," Wotan spoke up. Receiving no comment from his officer, he continued, "I will redirect their fire on myself, while you will take out the gunner."
"Risky and bold, but options are limited…" Major considered it for a moment, and gave him a nod. "OK, Wotan. Pass me a few grenades, and I`ll go for the bastard."
With a grenade in his left and standard-issue pistol in right hand, Major sped up into darkness. Wotan returned his gaze to the rebels, firing four rounds at the machine gunner, getting his attention.
Jeanne approached him from the side, seeing the Lieutenant not being aware about her presence. She aimed her rifle at him, firing a shot burst into his direction, shots hitting his gun, throwing it away from his hands. Wotan reached for his shotgun, dropping the rifle.
Luckily, rest of the rangers managed to reach close enough to force Jeanne away with their fire, saving Wotan, who didn`t have enough time to draw his shotgun before she`d shoot.
Rangers fell into Reichard`s sight. He readjusted his aim, preparing to make another burst of his MG 43, ending the battle.
Major was almost near Reichard`s gun nest, when he glanced back for a second. He saw his group being too dangerously close to being wiped out, so he took aim with his pistol and begun pre-emptively firing at the gunner.
Reichard winced, his hands drawing his machine gun enough to make Wotan and the group aware of their risky position. They ducked, firing in response. Reichard saw Britannian commander near his nest and quickly drew his gun at him, firing 6 rounds into his chest.
Major cried out of pain. He fell, his grenade dropping from his hands and rolled slightly down the hill. Wotan recognized Major`s voice, when he was hit. He wasted no time and run to his officer.
Jeanne tried to intercept him with her rifle, but was forced to drop the idea by suppressive fire of his comrades.
Wotan ran as fast as he could, catching Major`s grenade and reaching back to his shotgun with his other hand. He evaded most of the bursts, only one bullet hitting him in the left shoulder. He jumped in the nest, his eyes recognizing a few facial features Reichard had from a photo. Wotan kicked the gunner with his leg into face and immediately fired his shotgun point-blank into Reichard`s head, causing some metallic sound.
Wotan wasted no time, dropping grenade inside and somersaulting to Major, taking him onto his shoulders and running away from the scene. Rest of the rangers followed suit, believing their target was secured. Jeanne held her aim at them, as they were escaping for their evac helicopter. Her eyes saw Simon trying to shoot it down with a grenade launcher, missing it by a few meters.
Her finger clicked the trigger, but no shot was made. She was out of ammo. "At the time like this? FUCK!" Jeanne dropped her rifle and run to Reichard, fully expecting him to be in unrecognizable state.
What she didn`t expect to see, was Reichard sitting just outside the machine gun nest, his hand massaging his bloodied nose. He heard her approach, and rose from the ground, falling back on the ground after trying to do so, causing him to laugh at his condition.
"Reichard! You`re alive! But how?" She asked, reaching into her bag, looking for bandages. Jeanne rose his torso from the ground, bandaging his head after assessing his condition.
"He kicked me in the head, I feel as if he broke my nose with his leg." He winced in pain from her pressing bandages too tightly to his body. "My helmet fell on my face, covering it entirely. If it wasn`t for it, his shotgun round would`ve left me without my head."
She listened closely, still taking care of his wounds. "You will have to rest for a few days, you may have a concussion as well. Ideally – you shouldn`t be moving at all during this time"
He let out a heavy breath. "Impossible, we have to move out in the morning. Or, rather, right now…" he tried to stand up, wincing again from pain. Jeanne helped him, taking Reichard on her shoulder. "Dumb idea, you won`t recover this way."
"Doesn`t matter. They knew me, they went after me." Reichard then stopped over the place where he hit enemy commander. Jeanne stopped as well, noticing Reichard`s photo in French uniform.
"What…is it?" she took the picture in her hand, doesn`t caring that it was drenched in blood. "Probably fell off from one of them when you shot that one. Why are you in this uniform?"
"So, I was correct, they really went after me." Reichard ignored her question, looking on the ever-brightening horizon. "Sun is about to rise. I know you have questions; I will answer them when we`re out of here. Now – place me somewhere near my tent and order our men to get out of here."
Jeanne wanted to protest, him doubling down forced her to do as he asked.
Reichard observed the sun rising, "I haven`t deserved a rest, have I?"
29th of September,
Amazonas
Otto Waldstein was far from satisfied. His forward units informed him of capturing a now-deserted campsite in the middle of Amazonas, where Rangers had their last engagement.
"Lieutenant Beckwith, callsign 'Wotan', report on the mission." He ordered the man before him. Beckwith was in his usual non-combat uniform, bandage still visible beneath it.
"We relied on our stealth skills, and managed to take out 1/4th of enemy forces before meeting face-to-face with Reichard Messer." Lieutenant winced from the memory. "Major was slain in attempt of flanking him. It seems Messer was prepared for our arrival."
Waldstein eyed the Lieutenant. "You wrote that you killed Messer, yet we didn`t found his body. The place you mentioned was covered only lightly in blood. How do you explain it?"
"It seems the group had another commander, that lead the group away. Messer was clearly left incapacitated to do anything." Lieutenant bowed, "For failing to arrest the man I have no excuses."
The now-General Waldstein considered what to do. His group was caught with their pants down, and unprepared for the enemy they had faced. Beckwith himself wasn`t bad – he successfully led the evacuation of remaining members of the group, even going so far as recovering Major`s body.
He didn`t succeed, yet he didn`t fail.
"Major Beckwith, I do not blame resulting failure on you, your group or on your deceased officer." Waldstein smirked, placing his hand on Beckwith`s unharmed shoulder. "From now on, I expect your group to bring me only the best results."
Beckwith smiled, hiding his slight shock. He used to see other commanders get sacked for such failures, not promoted! "I won`t let down your trust, General."
"Your Rangers are to recuperate, we won`t require your assistance on this stage. Go back to your men, Major."
Beckwith saluted, turning around to his tent, leaving General Waldstein to his thoughts. Right now, rebel activity under his command was negligible, yet it could change any moment. Prince Charles evaluated, that resistance from armies of Southern States wouldn`t be enough to stop Britannian steamroller, and general tended to agree with it. In conventional war, there is no rival for Britannia. In guerilla war though…
Maybe, these remnants will be more dangerous than anybody else on the continent.
Waldstein smirked, pair of Phantoms flying overhead, carving path to his land army with napalm, his tanks rolling forward. "Let`s see, agent Messer, for how long will you be able to keep up from my pursuit."
AN: So far so good. You may find a lot of historical names or names that mean something in other languages. If anything - it is mostly intentional)
Story right now has over 5,770 views and is closing in to 50 follows and I`m grateful for it.
To San-Tesso: Entire D.S. character is something I`m trying to work with. From her perspective, she cares about humans, but in a certain way. In her cynical and pragmatical way. She cares not for losses or methods Charles uses. Her philosophy is closer to what Zero said to Suzaku: "Ends justify the means".
Lelouch was useful to destroying Ragnarok and she considers him as key to the better future, so she or C`s World didn`t critisize him for Narita, Tokyo Battles, for his and caused by him massacres. Yet, she doesn`t extend this opinion to Charles. Is it good/bad - will be revealed in the next chapters.
If it will help - she won`t be appearing too much in the next chapters)
Pairings aside from the most obvious CharlesxMarianne will be added later down the line. Also, it`s kinda interesting that this ship is mostly untouched by artworks (saw only one or two about them) or fanfics. Yeah, they`re shown as evil and uncaring, but still.
*expect new OC or non-OC characters to make their appearance. Now, where should I place Mike Vining...*