. . .
. . .
. . .
What meager light the break of dawn offers settles over the figure of a petite, fair-haired Pavolian garrison guardswoman patrolling the outskirts of Xenokuni City. Her two subordinates follow not far behind as they march in formation, the routine drilled into their bones and muscles.
A military police gorget adorns her chest and shimmers in the flickering streetlights, showing her rank as a corporal. It was once upon a time that that gorget and the rank it signified all but assured her safety in the streets of Xenokuni City. Now, she hides her gorget under her coat and grips her baton tightly.
The guardswoman has heard of all the tension that has been rising within the bounds of Xenokuni City over the past few days - so much so that garrison guards never dared patrol their beats alone anymore.
The other day, they had been comfortably posted in another part of the city. Warmer. More peaceful. But today, they had filled in another patrol squad's place, but gods know what happened to them.
Left and right, Xenokunian citizens had been picking fights with the occupying forces. Arguments and fisticuffs had become commonplace. Ambushes and assassinations weren't unheard of either.
Anyone with a royal blue uniform was a target.
Especially ones with gorgets like hers.
Despite all this, the corporal's mind wanders elsewhere. She takes out a locket and slides it open, revealing a picture of herself posing with another girl slightly younger than her in full Pavolian Youth uniform.
"Risu. She never came back, did she...?" She thinks, hanging her head low, "Wasn't she on patrol in the snowfields? It's already been a week, hasn't it?"
Her thoughts, however, are interrupted.
One of the patrolmen saunters closer to the corporal and whispers to her in Pavolian. "Kopral. Kopral!"
"What do you want?" The corporal snorts, answering in Pavolian too. She pockets her locket and glares at her ward.
"This place seems rather quiet. Too quiet," the patrolman explains, clutching his own baton as he hastily scans the streets. "At times like this, the Xenokunians would be starting to get out and about."
"...Maybe they wanted to sleep in," the corporal guesses half-heartedly but doesn't turn her head. "Just keep moving."
"That's not what I mean, kopral." The patrolman gulps and reframes his statement, "I think they're watching us."
"Of course they are. This is their city." The corporal waves her subordinate's concerns away, "They've been watching us the moment we took over. But that's not our problem. Let's complete this patrol and return to our outpost. It's just around the... corner."
The corporal and her two patrolmen turn the corner and find their outpost, but find it consumed in an orange blaze. The faint, smoking smell of red wine fills the corporal's nose as she watches in brief disbelief.
About a few dozen Xenokunians pick through the remains of the burning outpost. A dozen of them are carrying Pavolian firearms. They hear pleading cries out in Pavolian from behind sandbag walls.
"I think I've misjudged..." the corporal mutters beneath her breath. Her face grows cold. The locket in her pocket feels heavy.
The empty pistol holster by her hip, likewise, feels awfully light.
She hears footsteps from behind. Then, the cold barrel of a pistol digs into her back, followed by the ominous click of a gun's hammer.
A sharp, Xenokunian voice hisses into her ear.
"Tus armas. Sueltalos."
The corporal drops her weapon and raises up her hands. She then turns to her guardsmen and translates in Pavolian, "She says to drop our weapons. Do it."
The guardsmen oblige, setting their batons down with their corporal's.
"You understand me?" The Xenokunian behind the corporal asks in Xenokunian.
The corporal nods.
"Garrison troops have Xenokunian phrase books," she replies in accented Xenokunian, taking out a small pocket book for her captor to see. "Kolonel Hoshinova's orders."
"Not everyone seems to read them." The Xenokunian laments, reading the name written on the cover of the phrasebook, "You speak good Xenokunian, though, Kopral Iofifteen Airani."
"Gracias," Corporal Airani answers deadpan. Then she asks, "And your name is?"
"Fénix," her captor replies curtly. "Turn around."
The corporal obliges, showing her gorget to her captor. At the same time, she sees her captor Fénix, her head of fiery red hair with green streaks and the barrel of her C96 Mauser pistol pointed at her.
Fénix looks straight into Iofifteen's eyes, through the iron sights of her pistol.
"Open up your armory to us. Do that, and I won't send you to meet the Tri-Spirits on this day." Fénix orders.
Iofifteen furrows her brow. Then, she nods.
"Alright. I'll show you where we hide the rest of our equipment." Iofifteen concedes, "Just let me and my guards go back to our headquarters."
"Kopral!" The held-up patrolmen protest, but Fénix's men shove them with the butts of their sequestered rifles.
"Do you want to die here, soldier?!" Iofifteen snaps at the patrolman in Pavolian.
While Iofifteen speaks, loud noises rumble in the mountains and reverberate like thunder.
Then–
BAM! BAM! BRA-BAM...!
Powerful explosions rock Xenokuni City from afar. High-explosive shells rain from the sky, showering the occupied capital in fire and soot.
Iofifteen's jaw drops. Fénix and her men, on the other hand, cheer at the top of their lungs.
"¡Los Elysianos están aquí!"
Following the salvos of artillery, gunfire erupts throughout Xenokuni City, plunging the city into chaos.
. . .
"Hurry up," Fénix spurs Iofifteen, her pistol still pointed at her. "Your armory. Take us to it and open it."
"What about our deal? Assure our safety!" Iofifteen snaps.
"I haven't decided yet!" Fénix snarls back.
Before Iofifteen could say anything, though, the roar of peculiar engines reached her ears: the half-tracks of the 101st's HaKugrenadiers.
Fénix clicks her tongue and directs her men with a wave of her gun, "¡Soldados! ¡Attaque! ¡Attaque!"
Hakugrenadiers man the machine guns of the half-tracks, though, and shoot at the Xenokunians ransacking the outpost.
RATATATATATATATATATATATATAT!
Bullets fly viciously, tearing down Xenokunians left and right. Men, women and children, even ones without guns, are ripped up indiscriminately in the withering hail. Only a handful of Resistance fighters manage to shoot back.
The once-captive Pavolian garrison soldiers lying down on the ground start picking themselves up. And yet, Pavolian machine gun fire tears them up too.
Hakugrenadiers throw stick grenades behind the sandbags where the captive Pavolians and ther Xenokunian captors hid, and–
BOOM! BOOM - BOOM ! !
Not many are spared from the blast. Neither friend. Nor foe.
More fighters of the Xenokunian resistance rush onto the scene with weapons, preparing to garrison the buildings. Sappers carry boxes of molotov cocktails and rush out.
The HaKugrenadiers dismount in response, armed to the teeth with rifles and submachine guns.
"How the hell did they get ready so fast...?!" Iofifteen speaks her mind.
Either way, Fénix grabs Iofifteen by the gorget and drags her into cover behind a brick wall. More Pavolian stick grenades blast the area where they both once stood. Iofifteen's guardsmen and Fénix's fighters, however, weren't as fortunate.
Fénix grits her teeth and scowls at Iofifteen, "What the hell is going on!? They're even killing Pavolians!"
"Those aren't Pavolians," Iofifteen hisses. "Their loyalty lies with the Imperial Party, not Pavolia!"
Iofifteen feels the locket in her pocket and clutches it. For a moment, Fénix looks at the patrolwoman with a sliver of sympathy. But the cracks of gunfire and the blasts of grenades reminds her of the situation.
Fénix reaches under her coat, pulls out a molotov cocktail and lights it with a match. She shows the molotov to Iofifteen and declares, "Xenokunians will rise up for their freedom today, Pavoliana. You will be our witness."
The fiery-haired fighter breaks out of cover and lobs her molotov cocktail at a HaKugrenadier half-track.
A trail of fire soars through the air and smashes into the open top of the half-track.
CRASH! FWOOOOSH!
The machinegunner and the HaKugrenadiers inside are all set ablaze. The other Xenokunian fighters follow suit and baptize the HaKugrenadiers in spirits and flame, the crying soldiers trapped within scorched alive.
But then, powerful roaring engines echo in the streets. Large metallic beasts smash through the burning half-tracks, revealing their profiles to Iofifteen and Fénix.
"Harimau Kuching," their names escape Iofifteen's trembling lips. "Tanks."
Three HaKu III medium tanks emerge from the flames. They fire their cannons without mercy and blow the entrenched Xenokunians out from their covers. Their coaxial machine guns mowed down everyone else, sparing no one.
"Mis compatriotas..." Fénix gasps, her once fierce voice shrinking into a whispery gasp as she watches them fall before her eyes, "They're all gone...!"
A HaKu III points its cannon at Fénix.
"Watch out!" Iofifteen cries.
Iofifteen leaps out of cover and pushes Fénix down.
The tank shoots, blowing away the brick wall. The blast shreds through the back of Iofifteen's uniform.
"Argh...!" Iofifteen winces. Blood drips down her lips, painting Fénix' cheek. Her blue uniform bleeds spots of crimson.
"¡Pavoliana!" Fénix says, for the first time without disdain.
She holds Iofifteen in her arms, but the HaKu III's close in on where they lay.
"I tell you... they betray Pavolia..." Iofifteen croaks in Xenokunian. "Give me... a soldier's death, Xenokuniana..."
"Don't talk," Fénix shushes her. "I have... I've seen enough."
Fénix looks down the street and sees the three tanks closing in on her. The crunch of bone and squelch of flesh grips the mind of the resistance fighter as she stares down the barrels of the Pavolian steel beasts.
She furrows her brows defiantly and points her Mauser pistol at the tanks. Her heart pounds against her chest, but her pistol does not shake. She pulls the trigger, and–
FWWWT-TANG!
The foremost HaKu III tank stops in its tracks and veers to the left, blocking the other two behind it. Fénix sees a hole that had torn through the side armor, sparks briefly shooting from the perforation. Shouts and screams of pain echo from within the stalled metal behemoth, paired with ominous crackles.
More shots come, zipping from the forests of the alpine pass beyond the outskirts.
FWWWT-TANG! TANG-TANG-TANG!
More holes appear too, riddling the tank, and—
KA-FWOOM!
A powerful explosion tears through the tank and the turret pops straight up like a fiery champagne cork.
The other HaKu III's turn their turrets and their hulls towards the alpine pass, but whittling shots pepper them. Tracks are ripped and side armor plates are torn through.
Fénix turns to the alpine pass and sees even more metal beasts: Elysian armor emerging from the forests and driving towards Xenokuni City.
The Elysian tanks keep shooting at the disabled HaKu's. The HaKu's hatches fly open and their bloodied tankers scramble to abandon their vehicles.
But the moment they do, the gallop and whinny of stallions come into earshot.
Horse-mounted Xenokunian riders, armed with Elysian Thompson submachine guns, dash into the outskirt streets. A familiar figure led the formation.
"Sir Shinri...!" Fénix cheers.
Shinri and his riders draw their Thompsons and shoot down the escaping Pavolian tankers, adding their bodies and their blood to those that already littered the streets.
The riders fan out and secure what remains of the Pavolian garrison outpost. Shinri Josuiji, on the other hand, gallops towards Fénix.
Shinri sees the bloodied Pavolian guardswoman in Fénix's arms and points his submachine gun at her.
"¿Enemigo?" Shinri asks.
"No. Amiga. ¡Amiga por siempre!" Fénix answers steadfastly, urging Shinri to help her "¡Ayúdala, por favor, señor! She needs help...!"
Shinri looks around the streets of the outskirts and counts the dead and Xenokunian fighters, and the masses of civilians caught in the crossfire.
He then turns to Fénix sternly and shakes his head.
"¡Señor...!" Fénix tries to urge. Her voice echoes in the midst of the gunfire bursting within Xenokuni City and beyond, but Shinri doesn't budge.
An M3 Stuart tank rolls down the street and stops by Shinri's horse. Fénix reads the name painted on the tank.
'Tempest', it reads.
Poking out the tank's cupola is a blue-haired man wearing a brown leather tanker's helmet. He waves at Shinri from behind his mounted machine gun casually.
"Mister Josuiji, who is this lady?" the tanker asks in Elysian.
"She's Fénix. One of my subordinate's, Friar Hakka's, most trusted hands," Shinri explains in Elysian too. "She wants us to help that wounded Pavolian guardswoman, but our supplies are stretched thin and we have a battle plan to execute. We're in the belly of the beast. The surprise of this attack won't last forever."
Fénix holds Iofifteen firmly in her arms and shouts back at Shinri, "Señor, I was the one who started the riots here in this city! I coordinated it to coincide with the Elysian attack!" She gripped her chest tightly and roared, "You wouldn't have had any surprise in this sector without it. So, PLEASE!"
"You were the one who started the riots? I assume you know every soul in the area, friendly and hostile alike," Altare muses with a hint of surprise.
"...Does the name Amelia Watson mean anything to you?"
"Amelia...! Y-Yes! She was the one who gave me intel!" Fénix answers as she holds Iofifteen close. "I know where the HaKugrenadiers are hiding her. Help me - help this woman who saved my life - and I'll guide you there myself!"
A column of seventeen more M3 Stuarts and trucks of soldiers rumble out of the alpine pass and into the outskirts. A red-headed officer sticks her head out of the cupola of one of those tanks as her unit passes them by.
"Sergeant Regis, Mr. Josuiji, what's the holdup?" the officer asks.
The tanker man, Sergeant Regis, rubs his chin and turns to the redhead, "Lieutenant Kureiji, we need a medic for that Pavolian guard. My driver will help stabilize her, but he'll need help."
Lieutenant Kureji glances at Fénix and Iofifteen and nods without hesitation, "Don't get left behind, Sergeant. You're still my spearhead."
"Yes, ma'am," the blue-headed sergeant nods.
Lt. Kureiji, meanwhile, turns around to the trucks carrying troops and shouts, "Get Sergeant Regis a medic! The rest of the Company - you're with me! We're pressing on with Mister Josuiji!"
With that, the seventeen tanks and the trucks of troops carried on, cutting deeper into the city. Shinri looks again at the dead Xenokunians on the streets and shakes his head. Defiantly, he raises his Thompson submachine gun.
"...Xenokunianos. ¡Vamonos! ¡PATRIA O MUERTE!"
"¡PATRIA O MUERTE!"
The Xenokunian riders shout their battle cry too. They follow Shinri and screen the advancing tanks. The Tempest, however, stays behind with one troop truck.
An Elysian Army medic rushes over to Iofifteen with a field surgeon's pack. The driver of the Tempest, a tall, silver-haired man, follows suit. They tend to Iofifteen together before Fénix's eyes. Fénix starts to weep.
"Gracias, señor," she mumbles in Xenokunian.
The silver-haired man, though, just smiles calmly and answers in Xenokunian too, "De nada, señorita."
Fénix wipes her tears and nods graciously. Then, she sees an outstretched hand, Sgt. Regis'. The tanker man had stepped out of the Tempest to face her.
"Nice to meet you, Miss Fénix," Sgt. Regis greets politely. "I'm Sergeant Altare Regis. I've given my end of the bargain. I want you to help us find Lieutenant Amelia Watson."
"Of course. I always keep my promises." Fénix smiles.
"As do I," Altare concurs.
She takes Altare's hand and lets him help her up to her feet.
...
Vesper and the Elysian Army medic rush to patch up Iofifteen behind the cover of the Tempest tank. Meanwhile, Altare hands Fénix a pencil and the two of them go over a map of Xenokuni City.
"The partisans in the city have been watching the HaKugrenadiers closely since my cell took in Lt. Watson," Fénix says, eying the map closely. She draws a circle around the baseball stadium and taps on it. "This is where I parted ways with her. She should be still there. I have seen her from afar, but she seems to not be in very good shape."
"How is security?" Altare asks. "What are we up against?"
"As of yesterday? A small tank detachment with half-tracks and infantry."
"HaKu IIIs?" Altare confirms.
"Sorry...?" Fénix tilts her head with confusion.
"Tanks like those." Altare points to the burning wrecks of HaKu III medium tanks.
"Ah, yes. Lots of those, and some others too. They all have tracks." Fénix replies, "Sorry. I cannot distinguish them."
"Don't worry, Miss Fénix. That much intel is enough to work with. You lead the way, and leave the Pavolian armor to us," Altare reassures her. "Let's hope to find Lieutenant Watson together."
While Altare speaks, Magni pops out of the commander's cupola wearing the radio headset.
"Sergeant!" Magni cries. "Lt. Kureiji's ringin'! They're engaging the enemy at multiple locations! It's the 101st! She says they're scattered, but there's a lot of 'em!"
"Shit– Tell her we're en route!" Altare shouts back. He turns to his adjutant and calls, "Vesper. We're leaving!"
"We're almost done," Vesper answers him. "I just need a little more time."
"We don't have that." Altare shakes his head, "The medic will take it from here."
"As you wish, sir." Vesper complies. He excuses himself, gives the medic some last minute instructions and hops back into the tank.
He then turns to Fénix and urges, "C'mon. We'll give you a ride to the front." Fénix nods.
Altare helps Fénix climb aboard the side of the tank and she hangs on to one of the turret rails. Altare slides down into the commander's cupola, takes the radio headset from Magni, and tunes in on the company frequency.
"Company Commander, this is Tempest. We're en route to reinforce the assault team. Over," Altare reports.
"Right on time, Sgt. Regis!" answers the voice of Lt. Kureiji, "2nd Platoon is making great progress, but 3rd Platoon is taking a beating. My 1st Platoon is pinned down at the main avenue. Lots of enemy armor here. They're congregating further down the road. Seems they don't want us to get through here. Over."
"We'll find a way to break the stalemate, ma'am. Over and out." Altare answers. She glances at Fénix holding on to the turret handles and says, "We're going to the main avenue."
"The main avenue...?" Fénix scratches her head. "Okay. Follow my directions; I know a path we can take."
With Fénix's guidance, Altare commands Vesper to drive towards the avenue. On the way there, they see the war-torn city burning in the aftermath of close quarters brawls of fire and iron. The hulking wrecks of burned out cars, abandoned Pavolian half-tracks, and burned-out tanks - both Pavolian and Elysian - litter the roads with steel coffins.
On their way there, just as the Tempest is about to turn a corner, a HaKu III crosses the road ahead, passing them by without a second thought.
"They didn't see us...?" Fénix gasps.
"...They're in a hurry." Altare answers, "The alpine pass isn't the only place we're attacking them from. We're not gonna give them a chance to consolidate!"
Altare looks down through his cupola and shouts, "Driver, stop! Target, HaKu three! One hundred and fifty! Loader, armor-piercing!"
The Tempest stops in place and trains its main gun forward.
"Identify!" Axel replies.
"A.P. up!" Magni follows.
"FIRE!" Altare cries.
"On the way!" Axel confirms, slams the solenoid.
BAM!
The main gun fires, shaking the entire tank. Fénix holds on to the turret, the blast ringing her ears, but she and Altare watch the shot fly true. The armor-piercing shell punches through the Pavolian armor, halting the tank. Still, the HaKu's turret begins to crawl towards the Tempest.
"Keep firing! Keep firing!" Altare commands.
The Tempest crew scramble to get another shot loaded. Axel peers through his rangefinder and cries, "On the way!"
Axel fires his next shot, striking the fuel tank. The HaKu bursts into flames and whatever crew isn't doused in flame panickedly crawls out of the tank. The enemy tank finally stands still.
"Holy crap...!" Fénix gasps.
"That's just one of them, miss. Plenty more Pavie armor to hunt in this city," Axel scoffs from inside the tank.
"Axel's right," Altare nods. "Let's keep going, Miss Fénix."
Fénix nods and continues her guidance. With her help, she leads the Tempest tank into back-alleys. The Tempest would ambush scattered HaKu III medium tanks and make quick work of them.
They draw enemy tanks into those back alleys too. When the HaKu's take the bait, though, fighters of the Xenokunian Resistance would come with molotov cocktails in hand.
From where she holds onto the Tempest's turret, Fénix would cry to her comrades, waving her hand like a conductor guiding a symphony, compelling the blaze of her allies.
"¡Fuego, compatriotas! ¡Fuego!"
Molotov cocktails come flying from the windows of buildings, from the street corners, and from behind the ruins of captured Pavolian garrison outposts, now proudly waving the flag of Xenokuni instead of the Pavolian colors.
The Elysian tanks, along with the Xenokunian riders and partisans, bathe whole swathes of the map of Xenokuni City in flame and twisted Pavolian metal, cutting deeper and deeper into the occupied capital.
...
The Tempest now makes its way to the main avenue. There, Lt. Kureiji and the eight tanks of her 1st Platoon square off with a substantial Pavolian force.
"We're in position, Lieutenant. Over," Altare reports into his radio.
"And so are we. Took you long enough!" Lt. Kureiji answers. "I have a visual on the tanks. There are six HaKu III's and a HaKu IV entrenched just one city block away from where we're holding out. The IV's got their CO. They're blocking the road, and the buildings are too tall for Charon Company to provide fire support. Over."
"Understood. Over and out," Altare answers. He turns to Fénix again, "The Pavolian tanks are one block away down the avenue. We need to dislodge them!"
"There is a way!" Fénix replies gleefully, "Follow me!"
Fénix hops off the tank and runs down the alley again. She guides the Tempest further down the alley and rallies the Xenokunian Resistance fighters hiding in the city center.
From his cupola, Altare sees the resistance fighters scrambling from building to building with their molotov cocktails in tow.
"I'm glad that they're on our side," Altare sighs.
The Tempest follows Fénix and her fighters onward until they reach a dead end. A brick wall plastered with Pavolian Youth posters and anti-Pavolia graffiti written in Xenokunian stands before them.
Beyond the walls, though, Altare can hear the HaKu tanks firing their guns downrange.
"They're just past this wall, amigos," Fénix says, relaying the reports of the partisans, "My fighters say that the Pavolian tanks will have their backs turned to you if you go through. The strange-model tank's just past the wall too!"
"Strange model..." Altare furrows his brow, "That's the IV. Their command vehicle."
"Our gun's not that strong, chief," Axel warns. "We're not gonna be shooting anything through that wall - and they'll be shooting back at us!"
"Well, if we can't shoot through it," Magni muses, "then why don't we just drive through it and then shoot!"
"Huh?!" Axel recoils. "That'll never work!"
"Might be our only choice, boys," Altare sighs. He heads down the cupola and asks their driver, "Can the Tempest handle the wall?"
"Only if it's as thin as Miss Fénix says it is," Vesper wipes sweat from his brow and reminds him. "We're not a Sherman."
"I know, but it'll be worth a shot," Altare decides. He calls on the radio again. "Lt. Kureiji, the Tempest will flank the enemy strongpoint from behind. We can take out the IV, but not the others. They'll be after our hides though. Request that you provide cover fire on my signal. Over."
"Really? Damn… that'd be a big help." Lt. Kureiji acknowledges, "Get them off our backs and we'll repay the favor, Tempest. Take out the IV and leave the III's to us. Over."
"Understood, Company Leader. We're commencing the attack, now! Over!" Altare declares.
"Ah, shit..." Magni moans, "Here we fuckin' go."
"This is your idea, dumbass!" Axel hisses.
"I-I didn't think we'd actually do it!" Magni complains.
"Too late for regrets now." Altare snorts. He then turns to Vesper, "Gunner, traverse the turret to our rear! Driver - we're going through that wall! The moment we get through and the gun stabilizes, gunner - fire at will! AP!"
Axel grits his teeth, "Shooting blind, huh? First time for everything, I guess. And then what?!"
Altare grins, "We'll figure it out!" His knee jerks as though it were surging with electricity.
"Alright, hang on, boys!" Vesper warns, shifting the steering levers with labored grunts. "We're in for a bumpy ride!"
Altare nods and pulls back under his cupola, closing the hatch behind him. Then, the Tempest's engines roar and it drives forward, picking up speed.
WHIIIIRRRR!
"C'mon, Tempest...!" Vesper urges the engine, flooring the accelerator, "Work with me!"
Smoke billows out from the Tempest's exhausts as its treads creak. And then—
CRASH! THOOM!
The Tempest slams through the thin brick wall, smashing it with full force. Altare, Axel, Magni, and Vesper brace themselves as their entire tank rattles violently from the impact.
Axel, however, recovers quickly. He peers out the rangefinder, scanning for picks.
His vision is blocked by smoke, soot, and debris, but he finally eyes the outline of an enemy tank.
"Fire at will, Axel!" Altare commands.
"ON THE WAY!" Axel cries.
He pulls the trigger and fires.
BLAM!
Altare pops open the cupola hatch and sees the damage. He sees the rear of the HaKu IV's turret punctured.
"AP! Hit it again!" Altare yells.
"AP, up!" Magni reports.
"On the way!" Axel shouts.
BLAM!
. . .
KRA-BOOM!
"YEAH, GIT SOME!" Axel cheers as another round is slammed into the breech, readying up Tempest's cannon.
The HaKu IV's turret blows up, tearing open the Pavolian tank's hatches. Pavolian soldiers, noticing the sudden hole in their defenses, scramble to turn their arms against Tempest.
"Driver - Pavolian infantry dead ahead! Machine gun!" Altare yells. He mans his M1919 mounted machine gun and opens fire together with Vesper.
RATATATATATATATATATATAT!
RATATATATATATATATATATAT!
The HaKugrenadiers return fire with a vengeance, however. Rifle shots and submachine gun blasts whizz past Altare. The sergeant just barely notices them taking out their grenades.
"Fuck," Altare shouts. "Button up!"
He ducks underneath his cupola and tries to shut the hatch. A Pavolian stick grenade, however, jammed itself into the cupola before he could close it.
"Fuckin' hell– GRENADE!" Altare yells. He grabs the grenade and throws it back at the Pavolians at the nick of time.
BOOM!
The blast tears down a handful of entrenched HaKugrenadiers, but many more of them converge upon the Tempest. Suddenly, Molotov cocktails start crashing around them, setting the HaKugrenadiers ablaze.
Fénix shoots her Mauser pistol at the burning Pavolians. Her fellow Resistance fighters join in too through the downed wall behind the Tempest and shower the royal blues with Xenokunian lead.
"We'll cover you from the HaKugrenadiers, just keep the tanks off us!" Fénix shouts as she reloads her pistol.
"How the hell are we gonna do that?!" Axel cries. "Those're six HaKu III's out there, and they're pointing their guns towards us! We've got nowhere to hide!"
"...Ah, but we do." Altare counters, "Vesper! Get us closer to the wreck of the IV!"
"On it!" Vesper acknowledges.
The Tempest lurches forwards and pushes its face against the rear of the destroyed HaKu IV.
The HaKu III's try to shoot at the Tempest, but their shots are either deflected by the destroyed Pavolian tank before them or violently skid off the sides of the Tempest's turret at extreme angles.
FA-TING! SHW-TANG! SH-TING!
"We just have to hold steady!" Altare commands. "Stay still and sit tight!"
Vesper, Magni and Axel hole up, taking shelter from the hailstorm of armor piercing shells.
Not soon after, shots start whizzing by from another direction. The now exposed HaKu III's take hits from Lieutenant Kureiji's advancing Stuart tanks.
Some Pavolian crews bail upon realizing they'd been caught on all sides. Less fortunate ones die braver and more clueless than most. One by one, the HaKu IIIs fall quiet.
Altare steadies his breath and pops out the hatch of his cupola. He finds the six HaKu III tanks wrecked and torn. The streets are littered with the smoldering remains of HaKugrenadiers, their guns as cold as their skin.
Lieutenant Kureiji and her tanks arrive on scene, meeting with Tempest's crew once more.
"You fucking madman! The path to the city center is clear!" Lt. Kureiji proudly cries at Altare, slapping the roof of her tank. She salutes him as her tank parks close to his.
Altare returns Lt. Kureiji's salute, but he struggles to catch his breath for a while.
Still, the Xenokunian fighters shouted their cheers to the air.
"¡PATRIA O MUERTE!"
"¡PATRIA O MUERTE!"
"¡PATRIA O MUERTE!"
Fénix emerges from the destroyed brick wall and nods to Altare.
"Our battle has just begun, Sergeant Regis." Fénix reminds, pointing to the baseball stadium in the distance. "We're only just halfway there."
"Yeah," Altare answers her. He looks at the flames around him and sighs. "I know."
...
At the heart of the city center, by the banks of the frozen Emerald River, the building that once was the Elysian Governor's Palace flies a Pavolian flag. Inside the opulent halls of the beautiful building, the officers of the Pavolian Garrison convene an emergency meeting with their staff.
The peaceful government residence has been turned into a War Room filled with radios, telephones, and Pavolian officers scrambling to get a hold of the situation.
A large, Pavolian-made map of Xenokuni City is spread out on a dining table. Officers with pencils draw on the map, frantically drawing and redrawing battle lines.
With every telephone call and radio transmission from the front, the battle lines draw closer and closer to the Governor's Palace.
In the heart of this chaos, Kolonel Moona Hoshinova holds court. She only has to glance at the map and the officers poring over it to make her assessment.
'They brought tanks through the alpine pass.' Moona mulls in Pavolian, 'History repeats itself, I guess. Our position is untenable.'
Moona's sweat-glazed hands hide behind her back as she asks her officers, "How much time do we have left?"
"N-Not long, Kolonel," one of the officers answers her. "They broke through our barricade at the city center." The officers all turn to Moona and ask, "What do we do, madam?"
Before Moona could answer, the doors of the impromptu War Room swing open. A silver-haired lady saunters into the room with a sly smirk painted on her lips.
Everyone in the room salutes the newcomer.
Everyone but Moona.
Moona furrows her brow and hisses her name and rank, "Kapten Zeta Vestia."
"What are you going to do, you ask?" Zeta answers the question on Moona's behalf, "Isn't it obvious? You're going to stand and fight. Don't let the Elysians take an inch of Xenokuni City without a pound of flesh and a liter of blood."
"We are paying in flesh and blood!" Moona argues.
"That's because you've been misguided all these years, Moona," Zeta snorts, "You spent all these years appeasing the natives of Xenokuni - giving them fair treatment and a light hand."
She looks straight into Moona's eyes and asks, "What has that strategy earned you, Kolonel?"
"My strategy didn't work because of interference from the 101st. Interference from you," Moona lashes back.
Zeta shrugs, feigning innocence, "Whatsoever do you mean? I gave your spineless garrison my tanks, half-tracks, machine guns, and munitions: weapons that an occupying force needs." She clenches her fist and waves it at Moona, "We crush spirits, Moona. We don't coddle them."
"So, did you come here to gloat?" Moona asks with venom.
"No. I came to deliver your orders. Like I said - you and your garrison are to stand and fight here." Zeta corrects. She then lays her hand over her heart and beams, "My 101st, on the other hand, is already preparing for the next step. And we're moving a high value Prisoner of War, a captured Elysian lieutenant, back with us to the Blue Throne for... further questioning."
Moona scowls and shakes her head, "I'm done taking orders from you and from the 101st! If the 101st is retreating, then my garrison is retreating too!"
"...These orders aren't from me, Moona," Zeta smirks smugly. She reaches into her coat pocket and takes out an envelope with a blue imperial Pavolian seal, "These are orders from the Empress herself."
"Is it, really?" Moona snaps, testing her.
"Try and guess." Zeta dares her, "Either way, you have no right to refuse. Defying the blue seal is treason. You know what Pavolia does to her traitors."
Moona eyes the blue-sealed envelope. She lowers her head and swipes the envelope out from Zeta's hand.
A force within her urges her to tear that envelope before Zeta's eyes and to throw it into the fire, but she finds herself unable to.
"That is all, Moona." Zeta turns around and leaves the room, "Thank you for your service - and pray that Holy Mother Towa extends her grace to the likes of you."
Zeta leaves and slams the door of the War Room behind her. The officers lower their salutes and slowly congregate around Moona.
"...What do we do, ma'am?" The officers ask her.
Moona doesn't answer. She walks past the map spread out on the table and breezes by the ringing telephones and the radio equipment. Instead, she stops by a standing piano in the room and looks up at the hanging portrait of Empress Reine Pavolia above it.
Reine's gaze pierces her, leaving her stunned.
Moona lowers her eyes and sees a framed picture atop the piano. It is an old photograph of herself, Zeta Vestia, Kaela Kovalskia, and Ollie Kureiji together in the Blue Throne, the Pavolian capital city.
"So, it's come to this, huh?" Moona sighs dejectedly.
She sets down the photograph and gathers her officers one last time.
. . .
. . .
. . .
TEMPEST
. . .