Herm gleefully chowed down on the large piece meat that eagerly laid bare on his playe like an expensive whore, seducing him legs spread out to him, and he dove down once more, savoring the rich juices that melted it to easily sink down his dark pit of a stomach, before washing it down with a large gulp of the riches and sweetest wine from the golden goblet at his side.
His fit of hunger was matched by his subordinates as they chowed down on their own plates, under the attentive eyes of his hosts, Count Formal, and the two duaghters of the count, whose smiles didn't reached their eyes as they accommodated them, as they all sat in an uncomfortable silence.
Count Formal was across from him, eye scant of any emotion as he silent eat his food He only spoken with Count Formal in inconsequential topics, but he seemed like someone who had a grip on things.
They outrank him, but he had around ten thousand troops on the outskirts, their fangs glinting under the dusty skies.
He'd lost hundreds of men now, as every now and then large blasts of light that seemed to burrow itself on the ground, screaming violently, causing the monsters below to spread out, attacking their vulnerable flanks.
Herm gritted his teeth, his worn out brain irritated by the loud explosions that seemed to pile up from everything wrong.
Yet they were welcomed, gazed upon the populace with hope and wonder in their eyes.
He licked the sweet juices off his fingers, he heard a subtle cough punching through his eardrums.
"Sir Herm." The man called out to him, quietly eating his steak, eating it with slow, steady bites. "What is your plan now?
Herm, nodded, before proudly sitting up.
"We will be heading to the Captial."
"We need supplies and men to control the Captial."
Formal snorted, before pointing the ravaged fields below the mansion, and the various craters from the falling stars.
"Do you see the fields outside? We need men and supplies." He clarified, before pointing to him.
Herm gritted his teeth, as narrowed his eyes at the count.
"The Capital is the heart of the empire, but we are its lifeline as well."
With a single gesture, his whorish maids began to corner him, sending him away with quick force.
He suddenly arrived out of the walls after some time, catching the eye of his aide.
"Does he not see that he isn't the one making demands?"
But before the man can answer, a low chuckle whispered in his ear.
"Count Formal is always like that, being uncompromising if he odds are against him." A voice called to him.
Herm turned, seeing the old butler looking straight at him. Eyes blank with any emotion.
"Shouldn't you hide your contempt for your boss somewhere else." Herm nodded, confusion hitting him.
Without a word, the butler handed Herm a letter, stamped with the signature and stamp of a wealthy merchant, telling him to meet him up later.
With due haste, they withdrew outside the palace walls.
It was in the temporary camp of his legions, where Herm caught the eyes of his soldiers, their bodies frail from days of marching, caked in dust and sweat that reeked of desperation, killing off the light in their eyes.
Herm felt something in his mind, as he felt the lingering doubt claw at him, as he marched on to his tent.
As soon as he arrived at his tent, he caught the rich Helgan fabric greeting his eyes.
It was that rich merchant, who stood in the middle of the tent, gazing at the various maps Herm conducted when the stars fell on them.
"How did you…" Herm trailed off, but the merchant smiled.
"Good food and good wine could easily slide someone away." He explained, turning to him with his remarkable blue eyes.
Herm sighed, before gesturing his aides off.
"The Empire is failing. The Captial more so. Bad for business."
"Bad for everything." Herm corrected the man.
"How about we make a deal? You want food, I want Formal to be off."
Herm merely slackened, as he lowered his eyebrows in exhaustion.
"What's the price?"
The man smiled.
"Your mages. I know the Empire sent their best mages for the GATE.. Those maids of his will be troublesome.
Herm then smiled back, and shook his hand.
Isaac stared up at the falling skies, watching a world end for the second time through his HUD.
And even with a hundred pounds of Combat Armor and a rifle, and even with the meteorological reports saying the storms were dying down, he could do nothing but watch as the skies grew red with rage, raining anger on the city he was in.
And that anger mocked him, as the stares cornered him, sharpened with envy, as he .'engored himself in the sweet victory, the people around him starved in despair as they looked at him with sunken eyes that barely illumated their souls, dragging him with them.
A reprieve was handed to him by a weathered voice, catching any scraps of oxygen as the Security Team for the diplomatic corps arrived, sporting a smaller PDW. his shining vacsuit armor glinting against his faded, but wellkept armor.
"Lieutenant. The Welcoming Party agreed. We're going."
Isaac's mind cleared, driving off the emotions clouding him, as he stared at the soft edged man in his vacsuit's exposed visor.
"Took them long enough. We're the last ones."
Several sleepless nights from the Military Intelligence Group had given them at least 4 nations to discuss. It didn't help that due to the still unclear skies, the drones had to be replaced a bunch of times. He could see the worn out faces of the aircrew of one of the airwings, and Intel weenies slumping over their coffee mugs. And Isaac got the short straw.
The Security agent shrugged.
"Could you blame us? I got on Proximity comns. Bastards were complaining about every single detail of the procedure."
"Speaking of which…" Isaac trailed off, catching the party arriving towards the dropship behind him, slowly approaching in golden colors, yet though his helmet optics, he could see the grey ashen faces against the hazy sunlight.
Isaac eyed the delegates, as they trudged on with heavy shoes on the ashen ground, their eyes looking at Isaac and the craft behind him warily, as if burbers gazing at a PRC rat.
They were a couple dozen in number, and walked to the craft like men damned to the gallows. The American security team enveloping them didn't show any emotion of the sight, only nodding to the lieutenant as they herded them onto the ramp like impatient cowboys in old Network Films.
Isaac watched as as they sat down in the seats in both rows, before agents strapped them down, buckling them in with some difficulty.
"Romeo, this is Raider Lead, everyone's buckled in on the ride.
Almost immediately, Jasper came on the Section net.
"Okay, got them to get in. Problem. Raider Lead, you have to stay behind."
"What?"
Isaac stared into the senate hall, it's marble gleaming at his eyes with radiance of a centuries of history greeting him in orderly collumns and it's vast open space echoing countless stories.
But looking closely, Isaac could see the crack in the marble, the chipped statue. The hall suddenly then became dim, the once sacred institution now gone. Je could feel it suffocating him.
And that was merely a stone on top of the boulders full of eyes as everyone at the hall stared at him, men whose soft features and luxurious clothing smelled of desperation hiding behind some rich perfume.
Isaac nodded.
"Hello."
Almost immediately, he watched from his helmet optics the beads of sweat from the the government officials.
"Would Mars seek out Humanity's destruction for her retreat?"
"No. The God of War is busy with the War in the Heavens. Your existsnce was unexpected, but he sees you as small in comparison to the war that will determine Humanity's fate."
But they pressed on, closigm the distance between him and them, the old men eyes pleading for forgiveness as they embraced him,
He looked around, seeing the burning women and emaciated children asking him, their ruined mouths spitting out demands for him to save them.
"Enough!" Isaac yelled through a sea his tears, before running away out of the senate hall.
As he finally met the gaze the spotty sunny sky, he caught a few breaths.
"Fuck you, Lopez." He called out, staring above, seeing the ash clouds revealing gashes of blue as it died down. He imagined the man, in his naval uniform looking at him with strings on his hands.
He then looked down at the alien world he was stuck in, the well kept gardens that called out to him with their dying breaths, and the imposing structures staring down at him with scrutiny, his sleek, metal gear an affront to their order.
He was all alone in this world, and it unnerved him, telling him that he didn't belong, as the guards beside him looked at him with cold, uncaring eyes.
"Retro Actual. This is Raider Lead. I'm done."
"Patch me to the closest NAC unit. I know there's a bunch of dirt-chuckers around."
"Copy, Raider Lead." Jasper replied, the softness of the tone punching through the harsh static.
He then scanned the available friendly unit via Taclink, and got a platoon sized node in response 5 klicks north. He turned his computer's suit to follow the node, and turned his exoskeleton to a jogging mode.
He checked his ammo on his M107, and began the long trek alongside the dirt path, letting his exoskeleton do the work.
Until his comns picked up the sound of hooves galloping against the track, with the carriage stopping him from taking another step as it stopped in front of him.
Isaac looked at the thing. It was a elliptical one, similar to the ones in fairytales. Except this one was a bit larger, the handles and frame decorated in gold, that contrasted with the red wine color.
He turned to the driver, who held horses that looked imposing on their own. The driver, a young man with brown eyes, nodded at him with a friendly gesture with his pointed hat.
"Get in sir, this is your personal transport." He informed the Lieutenant, who shook his head, as he warded off his gaze from his hazel eyes.
"No thanks. I can walk."
But the driver still stared at him pleadingly.
"I must insist sir. She's waiting."
Isaac raised his eyebrows, the lingering taste suspicion rising, as he slowly crept up and peered into the carriage, hand slowlyyresting on his pistol holster.
And caught the gaze of that princess across the glass, as she stared into his eyes in that silence.
Her radiant red eyes looked at him expectantly, which contrasted to her dress, something that resembled light armor. Her long hair was braided to a ponytail.
Isaac sighed, and entered in.
The carriage was spacious, its soft, luxurious furniture that shone under a sparkling array of colorful crystals, making the richest burburs look quaint in comparison. But it was futile with Isaac's combat armour.
As soon as he settled in, the carriage began to move, its acceleration slower than an ATV.
Pina scanned around her, eyes looking wild like a bunny scanning for her predators, before turning to Isaac.
"Keep this a secret. I don't want anyone to know of this, lest there may be a scandal."
Isaac's eyes raised their eyebrows, before falling into realization. It was premodern era after all.
"Sure ma'am."
Pina smiled, and showed Isaac an array of pastries on the small cabinet. Isaac nodded, half not wanting to offend his host, and half because he was hungry, damn regulations.
Without a word, he unclasped his helmet, breathing in the same fresh, natural air that Ian once did, and grabbed a piece of the pastry.
It was soft and gooey, but filled with a rich flavor, something like honey. Isaac's eyes widened as he felt such flavor in his mouth. And it was gone as soon as he ate it all. He glared at the rest of the pastries, his hosts' words not reaching his head.
He turned, a lump of guilt on his throat as he caught the Princess staring at him, seeing his face for the first time, a string of words scrambled and blended to another language.
Isaac's face lit up with embarrassment, so he put his helmet back on.
"Ma'am?" He asked, attempting to use a disarming smile.
Pina's mind suddenly returned, barely hiding a blush as she nodded.
"I'm sorry. It's just, your eyes…"
Isaac smiled curtly, realizing how even out of place he was.
"A result of Humans living on Mars for too long."
"Mars?" She asked, voice turning to confusion.
"My Home." Isaac nodded. He turned to he window of the carriage, seeing the people milling about in the still intact district. Parts of the city were still rife with death, but like humanity at large, a sense of normalcy had been forged in the chaos.
"So what is your name, son of Mars?" She asked, inquisitively, leaning towards him.
"It's Isaac Fields, ma'am." Isaac replied. "I'm not the son of Mars."
"Then why do you proclaim as such?"
"Because..." Isaac paused.
Because I'm out of the few thousand survivors of 22 million souls my ancestor swore to protect.
Instead, Isaac smiled.
"Because that as well. I thought it was a good fit for a soldier's name."
Pina stared at him for a few seconds, before closing her eyes in a chuckle.
"I see. I'm such a fool for proclaiming such."
Isaac shook his head, trying to help Pina out.
"No, it's alright. That's the only clue you had, and it was a good clue. You knew that we were from Terra, which would make the delegations easier."
Isaac nearly held back a snort, but Pina caught it with her glare.
"What was that?" She asked, catching it with surprise.
Isaac steeled himself, realising who she was.
"Sorry. The Terran delegation head is a familiar face. Sandro Lopez."
Pina nodded.
"What's he like?"
An old ruthless bastard. Isaac bit his lip as anger rage as bright as Mars on that day.
"Someone you should probably watch your back."
The rosy mood was now fumbled and tripped as the two stood in a tense silence, with Isaac staring at the destruction for a few long seconds, Pina fumlbing her fingers as he drowned in the silent tension filling up the space.
Until Isaac broke, turning to her.
"You know, I never got to thank you for that ride of yours. Thanks."
She smiled, this time more genuine as it reach to her ears.
"It is an honor."
But behind her eyes, Isaac could see the twinge of sadness in her eyes, lingering as it called out to him.
"Your Highness?" Isaac asked.
That sadness vanished, silenced as she gave him a watered down reproduction of her previous smile.
"It's nothing."
She looked down, before meeting his eyes, the cracks on her mask showing.
"Do you have women on your team?" She muttered under her breath.
Isaac nodded.
"Yeah. Iris. She's a good sharpshooter. But she's too closed off to me. She gets along with her team, which is good."
"At least you have a team, and the only female belongs there."
"Yeah. The war we fought was so bad they gave anyone with a pulse a weapon."
"Oh, do tell?"
Isaac droned on and on about the war, treading the line with Opsec, but the more he delved deeper, the more he felt Pina's gaze piercing his with her shining ruby eyes full of wonder, entrancing him into her as she looked upon him with curiousity, like a private looking up to NCOs.
And it sickened him, as he was feeding into her naivety with every word that came out of his mouth.
He paused, eyeing Pina.
Your Highness, I don't think you're fit for combat."
The mood soured, with Pina staring daggers at him.
"What?" She asked, voice now infected with poison.
"It's not because you're a woman." Isaac spoke up, raising his voice.
"It's because I don't think you can hack it."
A pause, before Pina stood up, staring him down as her eyes burned through his armor.
"I know. But I am a Princess of the Saderan Empire, my home. If I am not ready, then I shall make myself ready."
Isaac then got off her carriage, reaching towards the engineering platoon, who were drawing a crowd as they stared the enormous grey lanky being dissected.
Isaac watched from afar as they deployed the hazard yellow glow of the large PACES exoskeleton, the Engineering version of Its badass brother, as it sliced open the tough Lanky hide with it's powerful saw.
"Alpha-One Actual. This is Raider Actual."
"Been expecting you, Raider Actual. Get into the perimeter."
"Copy."
But as soon as Isaac did meld himself into the crowd, a burley shout came from behind him.
What stung him was the tearful eyes of a young girl looking straight at him, pleadingly at him as she walked with a wince, her matted fur stained with blood that glowed as brightly as Isaac's rage as the two men ran behind her.
Isaac saw himself in the girl's eyes, the ground turning to the red martian dust.
With a single step back, he let the girl through the perimeter, with the guard squadron in confusion.
He then turned to the two men, eyes frought with frustration as a large man in iron combat armor stopped them.
The man screamed out something an alien language.
Isaac just blurted out some canned dialogue in a monotone voice.
"Sir, this is a Military Perimeter. Failure to comply will be treated as hostile action."
But they were voices that flowed away as Isaac saw the girl behind him. It was scared, frightened, and uncaring. It was the eyes of someone trying to find… something.
Isaac blacked out for one moment, and the next felt his hand holding the man with the baggy clothes' wrists, as the man screamed in some unknown language. He only saw the red bar rising in his HMD,
and Isaac crushed the man's wrist, destroying the bone.
The man immediately cried loudly in pain.
The other man raised his sword at Isaac, swinging it to his back.
The sword shattered as it crashed against the armor, brittle metal failed against the hardened alloy.
The Lieutenant turned without pain, quickly unholstering the M109, and aimed point blank at his face. The man looked confused.
And Isaac pulled the trigger.
The man's head exploded into a thick red mist, spraying Isaac's black visor with crimson red. The man fell to the ground, lifeless.
Someone in the crowd immediately screamed in fright, while the rest covered their ears from such a noise.
The man with a broken wrist ran away, his comrade's friend bleeding out in the now empty street.
As the dropship's ramp closed, sealing them in darkness. Already, the entire congregation minds were shocked by immediate regret, as their senses were robbed by them, leaving them slaves to the otherworlders whims under a red haze. Eyes exes warily turned to the emotionless black plated visors of the troops.
A loud rumbling of engines roared. Then, the screens lit up, above and below them, giving the exact reactions they were expecting, as they illuminated the dark cargo hold with the grace of the hazy blue skies that shone with bright radiance.
But that small warmth was robbed as the bird began to roar, flying faster and rougher on the people, leaving them to sweat as they were unused to the feeling of gravity pilling against itself, deafening them into helplessness.
Compounded by the fact as they rose upwards to the skies, they gripped on their seats.
Until it stopped, leaving them in silence,the forces punishing them for leaving earth's embrace losing her grasp, her tethers cut gradually, as their hair broke their forms, their large robes flowing upwards, earning some chuckles from the security team as they caught the undergarments of the diplomats.
But the diplomats were too overwhelmed by the senses, as their minds couldn't comprehend, with several of them short-circuiting as their minds fell deep into numbness, and in some cases, falling deeper into unconcuoissness,
NACS Mexico City, appeared to them like a large bright island in a deep dark sea, as the ship, even with severe damage to the numerous decks alongside its starboard, greeted them with resplendent white, pure colors.
Along side, tethered, it was the smaller, but equally formidable battlespace cruiser NACS Phalanx, it's enlongated angular shape appearing like a warrior's blade, dotted with several dozen VLS tubes at it's center, their limited knowledge unaware of the maddening firepower both packed. To these people who modeled themselves to an ancient culture honed in their hunger of war as conquest could conceive of a weapons capable of turning their planet into slag was miniscule.
But as the craft was slowly grasped by the ship as it landed on it's outer shell, dragged inwards to its maw, their interiors showed a more tanglble concept, as they were exited out of the ramp.
All decorum and disciplined movement was broken and cracked apart as they saw the enormous grey metallic cavern, with branches that seemed to move on their own, carrying enormous fat birds similar to their own, to sleek, narrower birds that had a sharp edge, all underneath the striking white light that nearly blinded them.
But what greeted them were a bunch of people that didn't wore tight outfits, some were elves, humans, and lizardfolk, which caused some to sigh.
The three groups looked with one another with animosity, with the lizard folk growling at them, while the elves looked at them with exhausted indifference.
"Ah, the Imperials. We expected you to arrive at this hour."
"Why are we entertaining a peasant usurpers?"
"Im sorry, but we are dealing with nations who have been severely affected by the disaster. This is beyond politics."
They entered into a small brown grey tent, it's entrance flanked by two guards in that dark grey splotches suit of armor.
Inside that large tent, were several white tables laid out in a horse shoe layout, and large transparent pitchers of water, with chunks of ice floating above it. Draped on it were two banners rotated to the side, with one of them with a red circle on a white background, with the other a dark blue rectangle piercing the center, holding three four point stars at its center. Odd. Seeing the simplistic shapes in comparison to the intricate and roaring banners that they have, was an odd contrast.
The attendant gestured them to their seats, and hurriedly left, leaving them to simmer in the boiling pot of nations that hate each other.
They sat down, waiting, feeling the glare of each other at one another, who the worse was Sadera, as each painful crawl of a second made them face their mortal enemies.
But, they all stood in tense silence, waiting.
Marcus stared at the pieces of smooth paper given to him, seeing how the painting on it felt as it it was included on the paper as well.
He wondered what kind of nation this North American Commonwealth was. He tried to grasp the history lessons of humans before Falmart. How the Terra ended as demons rose from the ground and fire and brimstone fell down, choking the entire empire in despair, and how countless individuals from across that old empire seeked refuge in Falmart. That was what was told.
So how was it that this nation survived? He glanced over to the paper, where an intricate map was laid out.
No records except from word of mouth from ancestors long past still existed from those early ages.
"Do you have any idea where these people might've came from in your records?" He asked the Marpacifo delegation.
The large siren man shook his head.
"When humans evacuated to the island where our nation would form from the Collapse, they lost a lot of records to make up space for a lot of refugees. Had we known the knowledge we now have of our ships..."
"Thank you. If circumstances had played out differently…"
"You pushed us into those circumstances! I still remember your dirty kind rising up even as we seeked refuge. Don't forget that, Human."
"Oh, we never forgotten. Just as we never forgotten what your kind did when we seeked refuge into Elysium. Let go of the past, Knife ears."
"Bold words for someone keeping a dying monarchy alive. Who must be flooded under the sea by now."
"Your government is heretical to the will of the Gods."
"As if the previous one you supported began works on heretical abominations to begin with!"
It was then a snap of a fingers, and everyone turned to the opening of a flap, as a man in some crisp dark clothing and dapper tube wrapped around his neck.
"Hello, and I am Mr. Lopez, I am the Ambassador for the North American Commonwealth."
"Greetings, I am Mr. Sugawara, here to represent on behalf of the Kingdom of Japan."
Japan. Marcus noted, was similar to Sadera. An Emperor, with noticably some softer edges on his face, but an Emperor nonetheless, with a handpicked Minister, with a legislative body similar to the senate, but divided into two to limit power, which amused Marcus.
But America, was complex. Instead of two subsections in the legislative, there were four. But weirdly enough, the head of state was handpicked by the people, with a limit of 5 years, which is roughly similar to the old consulship. God, the elves wouldn't love that idea.
But the reason why both had large legislative was due to them representing their large populations. Both nations had 5 billion citizens in it's entirety. Sadera only boasted around a hundred million, and that was the largest thanks to its robust agricultural base.
And the most infuriating part was that a whole lot of that population lived in basic.
Sadera was, from its inception, under a state of constant attack, and one where populus devoted themselves to the state. Every scrounge of resource was spent to strengthen the robust state for it to wield its might to the others.
But these states devoted themselves to the populus. Fattening them up, for no other purpose other than to expend excess resources.
It sickened, and horrified him.
With a single word, industrialization. It made goods bountiful, thus making it cheap, thus making people afford luxurious heights, thus making them fat and lazy, which made them breed.
It was such a simple, yet ruthlessly efficient cycle.
Marcus read the reports on how fast their flying craft were. If they possessed that fast craft, then Sadera was outmatched.
And that was before the skies fell on Sadera.
So, Marcus awaited the hammer to fall on him, as the true purpose of the meeting laid before him.
The terms.
He eyed the terms before him, his heart nearly giving out as he saw the cost for restoration of the Empire.
1: Dissolution of Slavery in a given time period, with assurances of repatriation.
2: Full on equality for all species, genders, and creeds.
Relatively simple terms, if it werent for the fact that this would destroy the values that Sadera desperately relied on for stability. It was like asking a mage to kill you. Marcuscouldnt even imagine the backlash from the several industries.
But that was what all it needed, as Marus looked at his contemporaries. They wouldn't attack the gods, would they? Especially the elves.
"-If you could do such, then we can open the doors of our large expanse of knowledge to you. One that can surely…" Lopez continued, his eyes narrowing as if contemplating at the lack of response.
But, Arrun broke.
"Arrun is a broken country that is weakened by trade embargoes, if you could recognize us, then we could accept these treaties."
Then, the tables began to fall on itself.
He glared as both Marpacifico and Helgan Confedracy engaged in a silent confederation, before turning to the North American.
"We will consider such agreements with our respective councils."
Then, Sadera stood alone.
Then, it clicked, as Marcus now knew how he was now the one cornered.
Sadera was not in a position to say no.
Sadera could always rise up even with its battered state. It had the will of the Gods by its side, as the stabilizer of Falmart.
But could Sadera rebuild itself while its enemies receive better tech? It would be overstretched, broken and torn apart.
Damned if you do, damned if you don't.
Marcus forced as smile, which Lopez looked at him fondly for.
"Unfortunately, Sadera cannot accept these terms. Our lifeblood depends on slavery. And it is our religious duty to uphold the heriarchy that is followed by the Gods."
In an instant,
Lopez stared at Marcus for a single moment, a complicated expression on his face.
"I understand, removing such an integral part of your economy and religious dogma would be tough to sell. But my government is also adamant on these terms."
"But why such adamant conditions?" Marcus asked, brow furrowing.
"Because I have to answer to the most important part as well, the people."
"Our hands are tied. Emancipation and Human Rights are enshirned in our nationality, so if we are found to be assisting with such peoples, we cannot assist, knowing that the people would disagree "
Marcus glared at Lopez's fangs shining past his humble suit, as he found himself being closed off from the others. Of course, there was one thing he could understand and could relate to. They want to stay in power.
He sighed, staring at the man with cold, brave eyes.
"Then, I do not think we need your help. The gods will help us in overcoming our struggles."
Lopez smiled.
"Oh believe me, you do."
He nodded to one of his assistantance, who buried her head under flat black surface.
"Our recon craft caught this in the west of where your nation lies."
A image appeared, it's brightness stabbing the men in realization.
It was the flame dragon.
Instantaneously, the Elvish delegation broke into hushed whispers, with the eldest one breaking into tears as he laid eyes on the beast for the first time in centuries.
"-eyes on the thing." Lopez continued, even after the sudden change in the room.
"It already destroyed several villages and towns in Sadera. We can attack-"
"Attack?" The elvish elder countered.
"Come outside."
He exited the tent, and the four nations looked to one another, before exiting, seeing the large, longer craft in the middle that appeared out of knowhere, looking down on them with cold agner that reflected off its. steel. Lopez turned to them, smiling.
"This is the Shrike Fighter/Attack jet. We currently have 36 jets now in this ship. Each can be loaded with enough ordinance to decimate any enemies it faces."
Lopez turned to Marcus, who stared at the beast plane.
"If we were to destroy the dragon, can we speak to your government, and even your religious leaders?"
Marcus chuckled, a genuine one this time as he glanced to the North American Diplomat.
"If you could kill that beast, then you could spend the night with the Emperor."
Isaac stepped out of the room, nearly falling apart in exhaustion as Octo had tried to ripped him apart with several of his arms, examining every part of his brain for hours. And all he wanted was a rest.
But, he turned outside to the empty hallway, greeted by the cold embrace of the AC, the quiet being reflected by the changing of the watch.
Except Jasper, who looked at him with a complicated expression.
"Well that was a shitshow."
Isaac nodded, staring solemnly at him, the energy sapped out to fire any emotion.
"Tell me about it."
Jasper slowly cloes the distance between them, eyes burrowing into his as he grasped any straws.
"You were about-" He pinched his ring and thumb fingers together. "This is close to a court martial. You were lucky they had the balls to attack you."
"Heh, Lucky sir." Isaac muttered, looking down. Yet Jasper continued further, his words stabbing him like a cold blade.
"Fleet had to compensate them for the girl. You were that impatient. They haven't even written a treaty yet."
Isaac grunted in an affirmative response, before standing in silence, head bowed in shame as he could feel the sour guilt on his tongue.
"Isaac."
"Yes, sir?"
"Get out of here."
This time, Isaac looked up, turning to his CO.
"Excuse me?"
Jasper stared at him with empathy, the superior officer melting to his friend.
"Isaac, this assignment is a long term one. When you drop down, they'll be no warship to pick you up for a long time. You won't be able to go home."
Isaac looked at his friend for a scant few moments,scanning every detail on his face, before bursting out a bitter chuckle.
"Home? Where the hell is that?"
Jasper raised an eyebrow, but sighed, rubbing his hands on his temples.
"...What the hell happened to you back there?" He mumbled under his breath.