NationStates Jolt Archive

I went out walking the other day
The wind hung wet around my neck
My head it rung with screams and groans
From the night I spent amongst her bones

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, "Papa Won't Leave You, Henry"

"The Bucket Of Blood"; Warrens Level 83; Chiba City; the Hack
5 years ago

The Warrens weren't that bad of a place, despite its reputation. The upper levels were quite nice if a little cramped. They weren't palaces, but for people who were just barely scraping by, they could be made into a nice home. After all, not everybody could live up in the city or in skyscrapers. And hardly anyone could afford an actual house in the city, not even a ramshackle one. In order to house people, Carl Gibson had decided to build down as well as up, and so the Warrens were born.

The problem was when one got around the level 40 mark; at that point the apartments grew smaller and the crime levels grew higher. Level 58 was considered the Line of Demarcation between where 'nice folks' lived and where the slums were. It was at level 58 that the express elevators stopped, and where the elevators to the lower levels were either armored or destroyed. Level 83 was, to say the least, not a friendly place.

Uyo and Fusayoshi kicked back their drinks while talking quietly together, more than a little amused at the looks they were getting. Kitsune were as common as humans in Tindalos, and reasonably common in Chiba. They were quite rare in the Warrens, and all but unheard of deep within the bowels of the Warrens. This deep into the Earth was like dialing back the clock, as it really was a different world. A good percentage of the people down here didn't even know that the Hack was a protectorate. They lived and died down here, in their own little world. Seeing a pair of "mutant freaks" was not something they were prepared to see or deal with. Uyo and Fusayoshi were well aware of this.

Actually, that was why they were here.

It wasn't long before one of the laborers gathered enough liquid courage and started hurling weak insults at the two newly-augmented Kitsune. However, offers of kibble and puns on their vulpine heritage weren't really worth the bother. The two patiently ignored the blustering fool, focusing on their beers. Soon the drunkard couldn't take their silence anymore and threw his mug directly at Fusayoshi's head.

Now this was what they'd been hoping for. Their internal motion sensors had been tracking the movement of everyone in the tavern, and were not surprized at the flying mug. In a rapid but strangely casual movement Fusayoshi caught the mug, immediately flinging it back at the surprized patron, cracking him square in the nose.

The Bucket of Blood errupted into a brawl, hoping to live up to its name as the patrons threw themselves at the two Kitsune. Swarming tactics weren't foremost in their mind, but a mob rush was all they really knew how to do. The augmented and militarily trained Kitsune moved with frightening fluidity, breaking bones and throwing drunks across the room. There was no danger of the police breaking the fight up either; they had given up on the deeper levels long ago.

The only threat for the all too brief fight was offered by the barkeep, who pulled a shotgun from behind the bar. Luckily, the gun was loaded with slugs as opposed to shot and Uyo dropped to the ground, dodging the round. Even as she was ducking, Fusayoshi picked up his chair and flung it at the barkeep, ending his interest in the fight. Uyo stood back up as Fusayoshi flung the last fighter against the juke box, a shower of sparks and compact disc shards errupting as the man crashed into it. The two Kitsune grinned as they dusted themselves off and left the Bucket of Blood, not caring who they stepped on.


Section 4 HQ; Chiba City; the Hack
A few hours later

"What the fuck is wrong with you two?" The unnamed man who had recruited Fusayoshi five years ago was fuming with rage, his usual facade of blase indifference having finally cracked, "We can't have the existance of augmented people known to the general populace. Are you two fucking nuts?"

"With all due respect, sir," Fusayoshi was fighting to keep from grinning, "those idiots don't know a damn thing about Kitsune. For all they know, it's perfectly normal."

"And if one of you had been injured? Or killed?"

Fusayoshi had to laugh, "You know our specs. That wasn't going to happen."


Outside Largo's Cave
Now

Fusayoshi was more than willing to finally relax in the cab of the truck, even if it was just for a little while. The wound on his arm had started bleeding from the stress of carrying Nanami. He winced slightly at the pain, "Boat house? We're going out by sea?" He sighed, glancing through the rear window as Futami cracked open the medkit and set to redressing Uyo, Kaori and Nanami's wounds. She was especially worried about Kaori, she wasn't sure if the young teammate would pull through. Fusayoshi looked back at Mikhail, "Well, fukkit. As long as we get out, I don't much care how. No offence, comrade."


Hirsch Residence; Outside Marshall City; GMC
Last week

Anamaria blinked in surprize as she noticed her front door open. Sofia wasn't supposed to be home, and she certainly wouldn't have left the door open. Anamaria dug through her bag, pulling out the small pistol she was forced to carry. She'd never used it outside the target range, and had never much enjoyed having it, but she was happy to have it now. Flicking off the safety, she carefully entered her house using the tactics she'd been taught by Sofia, never having expected to use them, let alone to go into her own home.

Inside, the house was a mess. Whomever had been here had trashed the placed. Shelves were torn off the walls, bookshelves toppled and their books scattered. Her couch had been slashed apart and a lamp had been tossed through her television. She barely noticed all the damage, her attention riveted to the vandalism on her walls. Giant swasticas had been spraypainted over almost every wall, the ones that didn't have swasticas had phrases such as "DIE KIKE!" and "DEATH TO JEWS!" in giant red letters.

The pistol fell from her numb fingers as she dropped to her knees crying. She'd never seen anything like this, and couldn't even fathom the concept of people hating her because of her religion and ancestry. All she knew was that people hated her and were willing to trash her home to tell her how much they hated her.

She was curled up on the floor crying when Sofia finally came home.


This is largely a continuation of Ghosts Don't Die (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=374068).

Boathouse on the Kiel River

Putilin and Mikhail struggled to lift Uyo into the boat, eventually managing to put her down without dropping her too heavily. Mikhail saluted, 'Good luck friends...Now, I have a truck to dispose of.'

Putilin frowned, 'Listen to me very carefully, I need all of you to stay below deck until I call you, there's plenty of room down there for all of you. Make as little noise as possible, don't talk, don't cough, don't make a damn sound.' He scowled, 'This is the last time I tell that son of a bitch I owe him one.'

Kiel Shore Defence Network, sighting post #14

Anyutushkin blinked and shook her head, 'Some strange ripples in the water out there, comrade...' she lowered her binoculars, handing them to the man replacing her as her shift ended, 'It's probably nothing, but keep an eye on it.'

Jet heading away from Marshall Island, a week earlier

Ershkov sighed as he sat back in the comfortable seat on the first leg of his rather complicated route back to Eurusea. His job as an intelligence officer was often unpleasant and even dangerous, but this particular assignment had left a particularly bad taste in his mouth.

Probably it was because of the photographs of the young metallurgist, Anamaria, and the way she looked so much like his own daughter. That had made the vandalism particularly difficult to stomach for him, though he'd told himself it was necessary and got on with it, using the little cheat-sheet because he could never remember if it should be clockwise or anticlockwise.

Still, he had the photographs of the documents that he'd been told to get, and that was the important thing.

Cloakship Siegfried, estuary of the Kiel River

Von Schoenvorts checked over the latest photographs that had been sent to the passive receiver by tightbeam carefully, looking for any sign that the shore batteries might have spotted his ship. The estuary was like a fortress, dozens of navy-scale cannons in a series of massive underground facilities carved into the cliffs overlooking the inlet.

'Our smuggler friend assures us the shore batteries don't fire on small boats like his, guess we have to take him at his word. Damn, I hate this cloak-and-dagger shit. All stop.'

Now all that was left to do was wait.

Submarine Dreadnought Scinfaxi, Razgriz Straits, East of Marshall Island

The small Segonune avatar smiled as a chorus of 'good' and 'no problems' ended the last of her sea trials, sitting back in the Captain's chair. The young Hack sonar operator tapped her eventually, 'Hrm?'

'Sir, it's nothing serious but, um...There's a lot of metal down here, looks like shipwrecks...'

Scinfaxi smiled, 'There was a battle here, a long time ago.'

The woman blinked, 'I've never heard anything about a battle in the Razgriz Straits.'

Scinfaxi nodded, 'No, I wouldn't think you would.' She sat back, 'I imagine you know that your nation has been more militaristic in the past, yes?'

She nodded carefully, 'Before the Corporate Revolution?'

'Yes. A militaristic power on an island should have a large navy, shouldn't it? Doesn't it strike you as a little odd that you don't know anything about that navy, what it did, or what happened to it?'

'Um...I suppose, yes.'

Scinfaxi smiled, the whole bridge suddenly seeming to turn transparent as the holographic set kicked in. Now the seabed was clearly visible, dotted with the wrecks of warships, 'Most is right here...It's part of a past people would rather not remember. So they chose to bury that past and move on, and forget about the ghosts of Razgriz...You know, they say that to be forgotten is worse than death.'

Razgriz Straits, 118 years ago

Clustered around their lead, the battleship Tsathoggua, the Socialist Union's fleet slowly made its way through the icy waters of the Razgriz Straits. It was a truly formidable force; nine aircraft carriers and their battlegroups, six of the Union's seven mighty battleships and an array of escorts making their way in slow procession through a blinding blizzard. Their goal was ahead, the port of Hammer Bay, and their mission to deliver a crushing blow to the enemy's navy as a prelude to the long-awaited invasion of Marshall Island.

It was a small minesweeper, the Chiba, that first realised something was wrong, the lookout lowering his binoculars slowly as he spotted thousands of metallic spheres bobbing lazily on the surface of the water ahead, 'How...?' he quickly picked up the telephone for the bridge, 'Emergency stop! Minefield dead ahead!'

On the Tsathoggua, Admiral Bradley blinked as she was given the news, 'But...That's impossible...There's no way they could know we were coming this way unless-'

Another officer handed her a clipboard, 'Comrade-Admiral, recon flight over Hammer Bay has just returned, the Bay is empty!'

She blinked, 'There's no way to bring the carriers around in this channel, we'll have to clear the minefield. Get some recon flights watching the other end of the channel and...'

The radio suddenly burst into life, the operators scrambling to keep up with the messages, 'Comrade, reports of shelling from unknown vessels closing from the East...Destroyer Yoth reports her pumps can't handle the flooding!'

Battleship Tanager, Razgriz Straits

Admiral Kurtz smiled as the forward turrets sent six more rounds screaming the night, a bright flash ahead indicating another hit, 'Get the carrier planes in the air, they are to prioritise the enemy carriers and battleships. Swordfish are to go for runs on their sterns, aim for their props and steering gear. Drakes are to target their foredecks and aircraft elevators, islands if they can.' He frowned, 'Destroy them all.'

All across the Federal fleet, propellers spluttered into life, the assembled ranks of modern torpedo bombers rubbing shoulders with generation-old Swordfish biplanes on the older carriers. All the pilots remembered their briefings and knew that if this attack failed a land war on their own soil was a cast-iron certainty. There was a look of grim determination on each and every face as the squadrons flew over the Federal fleet to their targets, the battleships pulling ahead out of formation to bring more fire to bear on the hapless trailing ships of the Union fleet.

Battleship Tsathoggua

The radio operators looked utterly terrified now, the feeling they could be next on the ever-increasing list of ships that had been hit unshakeable, 'Another carrier's gone up in flames! Enemy battleships closing!'

Bradley shook her head slowly as she looked through the windscreen, the night lit up by flashes from antiaircraft guns and flickering light from burning ships. Her hands clenched around the handrail there as she looked down, whispering 'How did they know? How could they POSSIBLY have known?'

She looked up abruptly, 'Bring us about and prepare to engage! I'll be damned if I let those bastards use my fleet for target practise!'

Battleship Tanager

'Enemy flagship is changing course...She's coming about, the remaining battleships are following her lead.'

Kurtz smiled softly, 'Well, I hardly expected them to surrender...Start firing on the Tsathoggua as soon as she enters gun range. Do we have any submarines detected yet?'

'Not yet, sir.'

Battleship Tsathoggua

The First Officer almost fell as one of Tanager's shells exploded just off the starboard side of the ship, smiling darkly, 'Few more of those and they'll have our range...'

'Are we in range to return fire?'

The forward fire control station answered quickly, 'Negative, still too far!'

Bradley scowled, 'I kept telling them, what's the fucking use of these goddamn 14-inch peashooters against those nineteen-twos?'

The ship suddenly shook with an almighty explosion as the carrier nearby was torn apart by a spectacular fireball. Bradley blinked, 'What the fuck was that?'

'Comrade-Admiral, battlecruiser Rhan-Tegoth reports sighting what appeared to be a small aircraft approaching the carrier at high speed...'

Bradley shook her head, 'Some new kind of missile?' she turned, 'Status reports from all remaining ships, and get me recon aircraft over the enemy fleet, we're going to have to break through and regroup.'

The radio operators nodded, 'This is flagship to all remaining combatants, abort mission, abort mission, come about onto the following heading and report your status...'

Battleship Tanager

Kurtz watched as another of the new missiles streaked up one of the makeshift launch ramps that replaced the battleship King George's secondary guns, curving downwards as it found a target among the scattered ships of the enemy fleet. He idly leaned over and took the microphone for the external speaker, 'This is the Federal flagship Tanager to all enemy vessels. Your situation is hopeless, stand down and we will cease fire. Nobody has to die needlessly.'

He paused, glancing over to the radio operator who shook her head slowly, 'No response, sir.'

Kurtz sighed, 'Damn you, too proud for your own fucking good...Keep firing on the enemy flagship.'

Battleship Tsathoggua

The Tsathoggua had seen better days; her B turret was a ragged mess of twisted metal from a missile strike and she was listing unpleasantly from a hit below her waterline, but she was still moving. There were only a precious few ships moving with her now, and they were growing fewer and fewer as the Federal fleet focused its full firepower on them. The radio was now only returning desperate pleas for assistance and calls to abandon ship.

The Tsathoggua shuddered as two more rounds impacted against her hull, striking A turret and her second funnel, which slowly toppled over into the sea as she continued moving. The First Officer grabbed her shoulder, 'Katherine, we have no forward armament now! We're as good as dead!'

Bradley grasped the handrail tightly, 'All non-essential crewmen are to make for the remaining lifeboats, we can at least draw fire and give the others a chance to escape.'

She ran her hand along the oak wheel sadly, shooing the officer at the helm away and smiling gently at the First Officer, 'You've had that ring in your pocket since we set off, James, I don't think you'll get another chance to offer it...'

He smiled too as he slid it onto her finger, 'I'd hoped there'd be a quiet moment when-'

She pressed her finger to his lips, 'Hush.'

Battleship Tanager

Kurtz watched as the gleaming torpedoes impacted against Tsathoggua's belt, the aircraft turning away not even being harassed by anti-aircraft fire anymore. The enemy battleship was close enough he could hear the groans of metal as she listed painfully, a final volley of torpedoes the last nail in her coffin. She rolled over, briefly resting with her keel pointing at the sky, then sinking. He raised his hand as one Neko crewman started to speak.

'Don't cheer, boys, the poor devils are dying.'

While the shadows rise and the ravens fly
To the silent wood of Kherd you come now
Memories, ride the silent dream
While the horizons fade to brown of new plains

Luca Turilli, "Princess Aurora"


Throne Room; The Alabaster Tower; Mhu Thulan; what is now the Hack; 10,480 years ago

Erich gasped softly at the beauty of the Emerald Throne, kneeling before the princess, his robes flowing around him. The Throne Room was decorated in the greens and golds of the royal family, the Sign of Kish painstakingly embroidered onto the shimmering material. Honor guard, their faces hidden by black veils, lined the long walk towards the throne, wickedly sharp halberds in their firm grasp. The princess herself was not what one would term attractive. It was said that the royal family was 'blessed' of Saint Toad and bore his likeness; consequently, the princess was disturbingly furred and rat-like. Erich was silently grateful that she commonly wore a veil: he was in no mood to lose his lunch.

"Most Graced Princess, Kin of The Sleeper of N'Kai, your humble servant brings disturbing news."

She peered at Erich for a few moments, her beady red eyes trying to look through him, "Continue."

"Our astrologers fear this cooling trend we are suffering through. There are some who say that it cannot be stopped." He scowled, "They think it is the Serpent People's final curse to our line."

"What have we learned from the voormis?"

"Nothing, your highness. They have no minds anymore."

The princess leaned forward, glaring at Erich, "Not acceptable."

"But... but my princ-" his word ended in a gurgle as one of the honor guard swung the halberd in a large circle before burying it into Erich's neck, blood spurting onto the white dress of the princess. She giggled as she summoned her servants to clean up the mess.


Caine's Tower

"...so, we need to redouble our efforts to learn from the voormis, milord. The princess had Erich killed for our failures."

Caine sighed at the news, shaking his head, "Foolish girl. When the Serpent People killed themselves they took the minds of the voormis with them." He kicked a stool across his study, "They have been mindless for thousands of years, why does she think we can learn from them?"

The page, Arthus, carefully backed away from Caine. The wizard's anger was a thing to fear; while he was less likely to have someone killed in cold blood, his talent demanded respect. "Milord, it is the cooling. Everyone is scared of it... er?" He glanced down, wondering what his robe was caught on.

Instead of a stray nail, he saw Caine's youngest son. The child had short brown hair, an angular face, and disturbingly expressive eyes that seemed to be looking into the Arthus' soul. He started to say something before Caine cut him off, "Victor, this is not the place for a small child. Please, leave me to my work."

Victor sighed but nodded, "Yes, father," and left the room to find something more interesting to deal with. He would have preferred to see what the princess was up to, but he knew he wouldn't be allowed there. Instead, he decided to go into the room next door and try to listen through the wall. These sorts of conversations always interested him.

After his son had left, Caine continued, "Very well, we can try some new experiments with the voormis, but I do not hold out much help. We have only recently managed to fully grasp the magical concepts that the old tomes told us of. Whatever the Serpent People did, they purged our land of magic. I do not hold out much hope." He closed his eyes briefly before leaving his study, "Arthus, send for my assistants. I will be in the laboratory," he sneered slightly, "the princess demands it."


Boathouse on the Kiel River; Now

Fusayoshi winced slightly as Uyo's head bonked on the deck, momentarily afraid that she'd crack the wood. For once luck was with him. He nodded to Putilin, settling in with Futami for the trip, "Of course, comrade."

After Putilin left, Fusayoshi rolled his eyes before smirking and signing to Futami, Charming fellow, isn't he?

Futami bit back a giggle, responding, And we're doing it this way... why?

Safer than the wifi. Don't want to fuck things up this late in the game.

Futami nodded, looking sadly at Kaori, Uyo and Nanami, And them?

Fusayoshi shrugged, Depends on how long we're on this boat. It's out of our hands now.


Southend Beach, Grafton's Isle

It was a pretty nice day, or would be if the wind wasn't blowing so fiercely off the ocean. Josef tightened the scarf around his neck a little, trying to keep out the cold. The Southend beach hadn't really been used during the most recent invasion, but Josef wasn't interested in that; he was all too familiar with what had happened on this little protectorate. It was the older wars that interested him. Ever since becoming the Nominal Head of the Oligarchy, he found himself growing more and more interested in the Hack's history, what little he could learn of it.

The systematic burial of information about the Union had always disturbed Josef, but as he learned just how much had been buried, he found himself wondering about the nation he was trying to lead. He knew that the Union and the Federation had often fought over this island, and... ah, here it was!

The monument was almost impossible to find, time and neglect had done their jobs admirably well. The fact that it was little more than a marble block with a bronze plate contributed to its hidden nature. Josef kneeled down in front of it, brushing it off and trying to read the eroded writing. Most of the words were lost, but Josef could still make out the gist of what the monument was honoring. He smiled sadly as he traced his fingers over weathered bronze, before looking around and talking to nobody in particular and the island specifically, "We've been fighting over you for five hundred years... you'd think we'd learn..."

Estuary of the Kiel River

The waves lapped gently against the marker buoy bobbing on them; the buoys were generally stuffed full of contraband and bought back in by smugglers, each pickup carefully timed and noted on the shore batteries' rosters as a 'gun tracking test boat.' That made it all the more unnerving, the massive cannons slowly turning to follow Putilin's boat as he slowly move to the buoy.

'Here, Comrades...Now, where the hell is your pickup?' he blinked as someone knocked three times on the side of his boat, glancing down at a small dinghy with a few Marines in it.

One hissed 'Lower them down one at a time and keep your boat facing this way.'

Putilin nodded, 'And where the hell do you plan to go after that?'

The Marine grinned, stroking the water next to his dinghy towards the sea. The ripples spread out normally for a while, before seeming to hit something solid and rebound, 'We have our ways.'

George Road, the previous summer

Mayuko sighed softly, 'Is it 'car?''

Her youngest sister nodded enthusiastically, 'Yay! Your turn!'

Mayuko smiled. While it was as good a way to pass the time as any, Ryoko's tendency to always pick the same thing and still be surprised when people guessed it was getting kinda boring. 'Ok...I spy with my little eye...Something beginning with...Hey, what's that?'

Ryoko looked put out, 'That's not a letter!'

Mayuko smiled and snuggled her, 'Dad, there's something over to the right...Right there, between the mountains, you see it, right?'

Their mother smiled, 'Dad has to keep his eyes on the road, where is it?'

Mayuko pointed just as they passed a gap in the mountains, a stretch of a massive concrete wall briefly visible, the mottled colour fading back to the grey it was painted over...Then it was gone again. 'You saw it, right?'

Ryoko bounced around a little, 'I saw it!'

The mother nodded, resting her hand on her husband's arm, 'There was something there, Kenichi...And we were supposed to be having a picnic anyway, how about we see if we can find it?'

He smiled, 'Sure, why not. Though I don't remember anything on the map that way, just an old road that nobody uses.'

Disused section of George Road

They'd had to leave the car behind a little way back when the road had got too potholed to drive comfortably on, and now it was getting so overgrown it was difficult to follow. Mayuko was glad Ryoko was staying close to her and holding her hand. It was...Strange, this place. They'd already passed an antiaircraft gun rusting apart in its mounting, partly hidden by moss and climbing weeds. It was pleasantly warm, for once, and while this place was kind of odd the only one who didn't look happy was Yukiyo.

Mind you, she never really did smile that much...Mayuko's oldest and newest sister was an orphan from the war on Grafton's Isle; the sight of military equipment tended to make her apprehensive, and there was something in the way she walked and her expression that suggested this was something she was putting up with for everyone else's sake.

And then Mayuko bumped into her mother, Ryoko bumping into her, 'Ow! What-'


That was when she looked past her mother, and saw what they're seen from the road. Her father shook his head, 'Amazing...Must be almost a mile across.'

The dilapidated road trailed through the middle of a vast open circular area dotted with concrete bomb shelters and bunkers, the perimeter defined by a massive wall everywhere it wasn't touching the mountainsides. At right-angles to the road a bridge crossed the ring, mostly collapsed, the two far ends cutting a way into the mountains on either side. Around the outside of the ring ramps lead downward, most ending abruptly, blocked up with rubble.

Kenichi unfurled his road map as Mayuko lifted Ryoko up to give her a better look, 'There's nothing about a fortress here...Must be from the war, I guess.' He smiled, 'My grandfather once told me that George Road used to go through an old fort before they dug the Ford Tunnel...Never said it was anything like this...'

Ryoko pounced him cheerfully, 'Daddy, why is nobody else here?'

Kenichi smiled, kneeling down and looking into her bright green-yellow eyes, 'I guess nobody comes out here anymore-'

'What's this place for, daddy?' Ryoko purred as Mayuko snuggled her.

Kenichi glanced around, 'It's called a fortress...It's something the government used to build to protect us from bad people.'

Ryoko blinked, 'There aren't any bad people here, are there?'

'Not around here anymore, no...They're all gone.'

'Yay!'

Mayuko glanced over at Yukiyo, noticing something strange about her sister as she glanced around the crumbling masonry. Yukiyo was...smiling.

By far the largest structures were the control towers at the opposite gate, a pair of massive things each of which looked like the bridge of an aircraft carrier on a raised tower, antennae and radomes covering the upper surface. The outer stairwells lay in a twisted heap at the base of the towers, their supports covered by ivy and other climbing plants. Birds gently chirped from time to time, but otherwise there was barely a sound.

Yukiyo sat down on a broken stone next to a building that despite all the reinforcements looked for all the world like a cathedral, and ran her hand over the letters carved into it, nodding slightly. The sentence was incomplete, but she understood the emotions behind it.

'...That all fortresses will one day fall to peace...'

And beneath was a smaller inscription, even more faded. She recognised it from one of the monuments in Marshall City, but she could see this was where it had first been written, and what this place had once been.

'No matter how much you move on, never forget that once it had come to this.'

Cathedral of Saint Barbara, Cruik Fortress, 118 years ago

Major-General Hillman glanced back out of the heavy steel door as the last of the massive camouflaged ballistic missiles set up on the concrete pads outside was hauled upright, the snow swirling around the battery crew as they scrambled to make it ready for launch. He turned, walking slowly to the sanctuary's altar, his officers sitting in silence around it.

Hillman stood a respectable distance in front of the altar rail, the tall Kitsune man clearing his throat, 'I'm sure you're wondering why I chose to conduct the briefing here...' he smiled, 'Well, it's because I want Him to hear this to.'

'At this very moment every remaining serviceable warship in our Navy is engaging the enemy fleet which we believe is planning to deliver the first strike of a full-scale invasion of the Federation by the Socialist Union. While we must pray they succeed, we in the Army must prepare for the prospect of their failure. That is why you are here today.'

He carefully unfurled a set of area maps of the coast, taping them up between pillars, clearing his throat when he finished, 'We believe their landing would be at one of these three beaches highlighted on the South coast and codenamed Gold, Crowne and Caranda for this operation. Support landings are likely at any of the other highlighted beaches, codenames Steel, Iron, Copper, Bronze and Silver from West to East. The Union has no expertise in building mobile harbours, so we assume their landing effort must be centred around the port of Hammer Bay.'

'It's unlikely with the amount of armour we lost in the retreat from Grafton's Isle we can defeat the enemy force at the beach without resorting to what Supreme Commander Anderson has ordered me to do.'

'There are four major points of resistance between that beachead and what we assume is their final objective, Marshall City. All but one of those points is within range of the Union's new generation of carrier planes, and that means that the ballistic missile base at Ackerson Hill and Vant Fortress are only going to be temporary obstacles at best.'

He sighed, 'We will follow the Supreme Commander's plan to the detail, though personally I believe that we cannot beat them back from the beaches, and we stop them here at Cruik or we do not stop them at all. Cruik Fortress is the forth defensive line, remember as you fight that there is no fifth.'

'The Supreme Commander has ordered we stay in communication with the shore batteries and fortifications at the beaches. Our one advantage over the enemy is our range; they have nothing that can match our sustained-pressure sequence guns and ballistic missiles, meaning that for the time being Cruik can strike at their invasion forces with impunity. The defence forces at the beaches have been told in no uncertain terms that we cannot guarantee the accuracy of our weapons or that they will not suffer losses themselves.'

He cleared his throat again, 'Each and every soldier on every beach was told he could, if he wished, put himself out of harm's way and transfer back. It makes me proud to serve in this military, knowing that there was not a single volunteer.'

'Gentlemen, this is the day we hoped would never come, but now that it has and our very way of life is at stake, I can only ask that you fight your hardest. I have always wished for an end to this, but not this end.' He saluted, 'Good luck to all of you on this day of days.'

But the enemy never came. Cruik Fortress was never needed, and by the time war broke out again it had far outgrown its usefulness. Gradually, Cruik's weapons were dismantled or towed away, the shell being left to fall apart. The massive drilling machines that had bored out the complex under Cruik also sealed its fate, as first the Ford Tunnel and then Victory Road bored through the mountains that George Road had been forced to snake around.

Cruik remains on the worn-out road that was once the only path to the capital, her empty gunports forever silent. When asked why Cruik wasn't torn down, Supreme Commander Anderson would only answer:

'So they remember.'

In time the enemy went away, but the fear never did. The lessons learned from building Cruik Fortress would lay the groundwork for the first coastal batteries that would one day spread eighteen layers deep inland, to form the curtain of steel called ISON.

As well as roads, the machines that dug Cruik were to have one other, rather different legacy...

Air Force Headquarters, Chopinburg, Eurusea

Dilandau scowled and punched the messenger as hard as he could, 'WHAT?!'

The young man scrambled to pick up the papers he'd been carrying, 'They say the cockpit is far too large for a human to use, Air Marshal...They apologise most-'

Dilandau cut him off, giggling a little to himself, 'Ah, I see...So that's your game, Miss Madigan...Well done.' He turned on his heel, 'Have them shipped to the nearest research facility immediately for study.'

Estuary of the Kiel River

Fusayoshi kept his head low as he helped with lowering Uyo to the dinghy, "Careful," he whispered, "She's heavier than she looks." After Uyo was loaded, he waited patiently for her to be taken care of so they would be ready for Kaori. He sighed as he looked the young Kitsune over, gently stroking her cheek, "Poor thing... didn't expect this when she signed up."

He leaned against the side of the boat, rubbing his arm a little and wincing in pain. Futami gave him a concerned look which he waved off, "I'll be fine... bandage hasn't soaked through yet." As the dinghy returned, he eased Kaori down into it. Nanami was next and then Futami, despite her protests, "My arm can wait another five minutes, now go."


Underground Lab; Caine's Tower; 10,480 years ago

The lab could just as easily be termed a dungeon, or, more accurately, a torture chamber. Little droplets of condensation slowly made their journey down the moss-covered stone walls. Iron manacles were set into the walls, the base plates slightly rusted from the constant exposure to water. There were no skeletons chained up, Caine never understood the logic in that; corpses were always carried away, especially since he had no love for the smell of death. Scattered about the room were several cold iron cages that were bolted to the floor. The doors were heavy and held closed by massive padlocks that would almost be better suited for securing gates. Inside a few of the cages were small, chittering, rat-like creatures. Their long snouts sniffed the air nervously and their fur was matted from blood and the ever present dripping water. They scratched at the stone floor with their claws; one had scratched so much that its claws were little more that bloody nubs.

Caine looked around the room, he didn't enjoy holding the creatures like this, but the Princess insisted on it. He turned to his assistant who was already standing by him with a battered tray of implements and tools. He calmly slipped on the thick padded gloves and took a leash from the tray. Moving over to one of the caged Voormis, he quickly reached in and grabbed the creature by the neck, it's snapping jaws stopped by the gloves. He clicked the leash on and released his hold on the animal. The assistant handed him a sharp probe which he used to jab the Voormis in the side as he yanked on the leash. The Voormis howled in pain as he twisted the probe, "Grant me access to your race memory..."


Hours later Caine released the Voormis in frustration, the creature had passed out from the pain, and Caine's hand was covered in its blood. He pulled the probes from the Voormis' brutalized body, setting them aside with a sigh. "This one can't help us." He pulled off his gloves and threw them aside, "None of these can! They can't talk and their minds are alien. What is the princess thinking?"

"Master, if I may...?" The assistant's voice cracked slightly as he spoke; puberty was not being kind to him. At Caine's questioning look, he continued nervously, "Well, crops are dying Master. The peasants are already starving daily... she's desperate. We all are."

Caine paused, looking his assistant over; the youth was about fifteen and wore similar robes to Caine's. Chances were the lad's family was one of those who already starved to death, the boy was lucky to have been accepted as an apprentice. "You're probably right, Aabjorn. Still... stabbing these things and hoping for insight is a waste of time."

Aabjorn set the tray down, glancing around the empty lab before whispering, "I... have an idea..."

"Yes?"

"We could... we could use the Forbidden Book..."

"The princess is the chosen of Saint Toad. Do you think he would share with me when he won't share with her?"

"But, does that book not have other incantations as well? Perhaps one of them...?"

Caine paused, considering his assistant's suggestion. Using the Book was a dangerous proposition, even with it being stored in Caine's very own tower. The last High Wizard to use it had suffered a mysterious fate: his tower was reduced to rubble and his body had vanished. All that was left was the Book itself. After the fantastic destruction, use of the book was strictly forbidden and it was kept under Caine's care. The Royals knew that he would not go against their wishes and felt it was safe to leave the tome with him; besides, stealing anything from Caine was a colossally difficult task: wizards were not to be trifled with. The Book did indeed contain numerous incantations aside from the just contacting Saint Toad. Many of the spells Caine had learned from other sources, but it also held many other powerful spells, including the ability to see into the future and the past. "We're done here tonight, Aabjorn. Get some rest."

Aabjorn nodded, knowing better that to question his master's strange tone and quickly left the laboratory.

Caine stood alone in the lab for several minutes before heading for his study. His study was largely what one might expect, bookshelves full of various tomes, magical reagents, the occasional skull and a very large desk which was packed with more skulls, books and reagents. Next to one of the bookshelves was a large oak chest banded with iron and covered in writhing mystical sigils. He kneeled next to it and passed his hand over the chest, murmuring arcane phrases. The sigils stopped writhing one at a time until he had disabled all of the magical traps. He placed his finger on the front of the keyholeless lock, whispering another phrase. There was a faint click and the chest opened. Inside, the chest was lined with velvet and contained a single, large book. He made a few more signs, and uttered a few other counter spells, disarming the final hidden trap. He gingerly lifted the book out of the chest and quickly ran up the stairs to the roof of his tower.

On the roof was a simple wooden pedestal; it was placed here to hold tomes of all sizes for various spells and incantations. The Forbidden Book barely fit on the pedestal, but it managed to not fall off. He ran his fingers over the strange, scaled cover, shivering as he felt its power. Written in a strange language were the words The Learnings and Powers of Imash-Mo; Last Scion of Ghatanothoa.


Marx Air Force Base, Grafton's Isle, 118 years ago

"Command to all wings, repeat: Command to all wings. Mission aborted; return to hangers and report for debriefing. Repeat: mission aborted; returned to hangers and report for debriefing."

Wing Cdr. Ismatov couldn't believe his ears as he heard the command. The mission was to be aborted? What could possibly have happened? By his calculations, the navy of those Federation curs should have been annihilated. They shouldn't be aborting, they should be on their way to Marshal Island and bombing those bastards back to Hell. He growled as he taxied back to his hanger, fully intending on giving his superiors a piece of his mind. Unless we've already bombed the dogs into submission, they'd better have a damn good excuse...


The Glaaki, waters between Grafton's Isle and GMC

As expected, there was a fair amount of grumbling from the assembled marines. Capt. Turner sighed, shaking her head as she left the bridge of the massive troop transport to address her charges. She really couldn't blame them; she'd argued quite violently when Admiral Bromberek had told her to turn around, It's just not fucking fair. She looked down at the marines, the rain mixing with the spray from the rough seas, soaking her to the bone. Out of habit, she brushed some of the rain off her shoulders, a rather pointless action. Unable to delay any longer, she cleared her throat to address the glaring marines.

"Comrades, as you have noticed, we've turned around; this was not my choice, this came directly from Adm. Bromberek." She took a deep breath before continuing; she still couldn't believe what she was saying, "The invasion of the Federation has been called off due to... due to the sinking..." She had to pause to regain her composure, speaking quickly to get past the news, "Due to the sinking of the Tsathoggua and her entire battle group." Shocked gasps; cries of rage; cries of anguish, "We don't know if there's any survivors, but odds are slim. The Federation fleet suffered little to no casualties, and we fear they may take this as an opportunity to steal Grafton's Isle from us, so we have been ordered to return so that we can fortify and avenge the deaths of our brethren."


News Article

SPRINGFIELD, SUoMT: In a stunning release by the Ministry of Information, Senator Gregory Rathen has been convicted of high treason, conspiring with the enemy, and conspiring against the Union, and has been sentenced to death by hanging, which is to be carried out tomorrow morning at dawn.

Normally, there would be a long series of appeals for such a severe charge, Prime Justice Levin has denied all future appeals due to overwhelming evidence and due to Sen. Rathen's own admission of guilt. Pm. Jus. Levin described Sen. Rathen as "a despicable human being" who was "fully deserving of death" and was heard lamenting that Sen. Rathen could "only be killed once."

The court found that Sen. Rathen, who served on the Armed Services Committee, had betrayed the Union Navy to the Federation by revealing mission critical data, such as the size of the fleet, the timing of the invasion, as well as classified information such as armament and weaknesses of the fleet.

Sen. Rathen offered little by way of defense, except to say that he felt that "the sinking of [the] fleet, while horrible, will end this protracted war with the Federation."

There is little public support for Sen. Rathen, and there has been no outcry for clemency. The Ruling Council is not expected to overturn the judgment.


Anderson Estate, Outside of Marshal City, Now

Rebecca giggled a little at the look on her mother's face. Alysa and Rebecca were in Rebecca's room, looking over a history book. In theory, Alysa was helping her daughter study for an upcoming test on the various wars between GMC and the Socialist Union.

She shook her head as she read over some of the passages, "Seriously, I don't remember learning about any of this..."

Rebecca giggled some more, "Oh, mom... quit teasing."

"I'm not, Becky. None of this stuff was in our history books. They all kinda start with the Corporate Rebellion..." She grinned, "I can still help you correct your teacher in Economics, though."

Rebecca laughed and hugged her mother. She smiled, more than a little amused at essentially teaching her own mother, "Okay, well, after Sen. Rathen was killed..."

Army Research Labs, near Wavell Gunnery Range, 118 years ago

'It's not fucking ready!' the young engineer protested as sparks drifted down from the huge form in front of them, 'The turret jams average one for every 253 degrees of rotation and the suspension and drivetrain just aren't up to moving her yet. We took them from a mining machine that was never designed to have this turret on top of it, it can't handle the extra weight at all. We'll need months to redesign the gearbox and suspension and you want it ready in four weeks?'

The Adjutant stroked her chin, 'And what will our soldiers do in the meantime against those Gnoph-Keh tanks?'

The engineer, a young Neko man with matted, oil-stained fur visible under his mechanic's overalls from where he'd been working with the technicians, shook his head, 'Rely on those Sturmtigers division three is so fucking proud of? All this thing is if it's deployed now is a gigantic coffin. If you give us a reasonable timescale we can have it ready, but what you're asking...I'm an engineer, not a goddamn magician!'

The Adjutant sighed, 'I'll see what I can get you.' She sighed, 'I'm sorry. Just please, for all of our sakes, work as hard as you can. A lot of lives are depending on you.'

My life is full of empty promises
And broken dreams...
~Eminem, 'Rock Bottom.'

Kirwin Island, off the shore of what is now Hali, Mu Thulan, 118 years ago

They'd been so sure...

Cheerfully coloured banners still fluttered in the breeze, the shock still too fresh to have given way to acceptance of what had seemed impossible just a few days before. The largest was hung between two buildings on the waterfront, a cheery 'Welcome Home To Our Invincible Fleet!' made by local schoolchildren, most of them now without parents.

As they heard the klaxons of the returning ships breaking the morning's silence, it was the children who ran out first to see the vast battleships of the Union creep back into harbour. They ran to the docks, to see that the mean men on the radio had been lying all along and welcome their parents back.

The pale clouds of morning were pierced by a few shafts of sunlight, the blizzard of the last few days easing off at last. A vast pall of smoke hung over the harbour entrance, the children by the docks already blinking in shock, slowly dropping the little flags they were holding.

With agonising slowness the only carrier that had survived moved past them, the Lenin's flight deck aft of her island collapsed into her hangars, a mess of broken wooden decking and twisted metal, the dull grey hull blackened by fire and trailing a huge column of smoke into the morning sky. Forward of her island the Lenin's deck was covered in wrecked aircraft, wings split off and lying alongside and pieces of prop and broken glass scattered all across the deck.

Behind her, the water she passed through gleaming in all the colours of the rainbow from leaking oil, the battleship Ghatanothoa pulled past her docked sister Nyarlathotep, listing painfully as her crew struggled to beach her before she sank. The fireboats were already tending to two of the five surviving cruisers, an explosion suddenly blossoming from the deck of one and making the smaller children by the dock yelp in shock. Several started crying.

Among them, a boy in his early teens named Aaidin Hastings looked out across the bay, past the harbour entrance to the open sea beyond, 'But...But where are all the others?'

Of the nine carrier groups deployed to destroy the Federal Fleet in harbour a mere twenty-three ships ever left the Razgriz Straits and of these only eighteen made the journey back to port. As an offensive force, the Socialist Union's 'invincible' High Seas Fleet was finished.

I bit my tongue and stood in line
With not much to believe in
I bought into what I was sold
And ended up with nothing

This is not my idea of a good time
~Garbage, "Not My Idea"

Infirmary, Cloakship Siegfried

Futami looked from bed to bed to bed to bed. Fusayoshi was the only one who was conscious, and even he was fading in and out, the drugs and painkillers ruining his lucidity. Kaori was being closely attended to, real doctors finally able to look at the stump that was her right hand. Luckily, she'd pull through, but she faced a lot of rehab. The similarities between Kaori and her sister sending chills up her spine.

Nanami was in pretty good shape. The wounds were far from fatal, and her bloodloss, while severe, weren't life threatening. She'd be fine in a week or so.

Uyo was not so lucky. The D had torn her up something fierce and the Federation doctors were stunned that she was still alive. She had slipped into a coma because of the trauma, but the surgeon had expressed confidence that she'd be okay. It would take some time for the skin and muscle on her arm to regrow, but no expense would be spared. Luckily, she wasn't going to need any more cyberware to survive; the poor girl had more than was healthy to begin with.

Fusayoshi was in bad shape, but he'd pull through as well. He'd need a new eye and some repairs to his forearm, but in a way, he was the lucky one. The fact that he was making jokes when he was being wheeled to medical said something about his personality.

Futami sat on the side of his bed, looking down at him and feeling miserable and guilty at not having received as much as a scratch. Fusayoshi grinned weakly at her, "Just remember Lanfor. We're even."

She smiled at him, "Shh. Try to sleep, sir."

Fusayoshi nodded, starting to slip away again, "Tell The Gang I love 'em... especially Kiyoko... she'll worry..." His eye closed and he finally slipped into a deep sleep, looking strangely peaceful, despite the bandages covering his eye and arm.

Futami smiled and nodded, "I will, don't worry." She got up and left the infirmary, wondering how she was going to tell 'The Gang'. She really only knew Kiyoko: she was the Sergeant Fusayoshi had helped to rescue in Lanfor. She'd been shot in the neck after the Seps had collapsed several buildings and had been the first one to the rescue copter. She wasn't sure when they had started dating, but she did remember that the wedding was one of the odder things she'd ever seen. While legal, massive six person weddings were logistical nightmares. She giggled softly, "Longest exchange of vows. Ever."


You thought I was a little girl
You thought I was a little mouse
You thought you'd take me by surprise
Now I'm here burning down your house

This is not my idea of a good time
~Garbage, "Not My Idea"

Make-shift Debriefing Room, Cloakship Sigfried

The representative from Section 4 sat on the other side of a table, his nondescipt face looking rather disturbing. Futami had grown convinced that Section 4 surgically altered the faces of their agents to make the appear unnaturally common. She found herself forgetting what he looked like even though she was looking right at him. He was looking Futami's report and the photos downloaded from Fusayoshi's occular cameras. There was a rather impressive picture that was taken just moments before the shard from D's sword pierced his eye. Fusayoshi couldn't have repeated that if he'd tried.

As the man looked over the documents, pointedly making her wait, she scanned the room. Like everything involving Section 4, it was a study in the non-descript. Plain walls, no pictures, single table, two chairs and not much else. It felt like she'd been plucked from the earth and sent to Purgatory for the meeting. As the only team member not under intensive medical care, she had the singular joy of attending this debriefing alone.

"Now then, 'Futami'," he had a way of making her psuedonym (a name assigned by Section 4 no less) sound like an insult and a bother, "I have some distinct concerns about this."

Futami was stunned at his comment, "You have concerns? I have a teammate in there with her fucking hand cut off!"

He nodded blandly, seemingly unconcerned, "Yes, yes. Tragic, I'm sure. You should have retrieved that body. The intel from it would have been quite valuable."

Futami felt herself going into a slow burn, her anger at herself for her inaction turning towards the Section 4 rep even while something pulled at the back of her mind, "Well, maybe if our pre-op intel had mentioned a killing machine there wouldn't be three carved up Kitsune in medical!"

"No need to get snippy, 'Futami'. Your failure to retrieve the creature..."

"Failure? Tell me, how the fuck are two people, one of whom was wounded, supposed to carry five bodies? Especially with Uyo's weight?"

"...is a minor problem," he continued, ignoring her, "What is truly disturbing is your total failure in your primary mission."

Futami blinked in suprize, "I'm sorry, I don't recall receiving weapons capable of stopping that... that thing."

"You were to stop its supply line. You have done no such thing, and Eurusea now has it under its control. That is unacceptable."

Futami sunk into herself as he continued to drone on, chastising her and her team over the failure to stop Sekhmet. Something about the situation just wasn't right. She hadn't been dressed down like this since boot camp, but that wasn't what was bothering her; it was a memory bouncing around in her mind, half remembered. Okay, ladies, I just got an update from the Speaker, was what Fusayoshi had said back in his apartment. ...update from the Speaker... the Speaker!

She grabbed the table and tossed it aside before lurching forward and grabbing the Section 4 agent by the throat, propelling them both across the room and slamming him into the wall, "Section 4 didn't give us this mission," she growled, baring her teeth. "You'd better start explaining, or there's gonna be someone else in the infirmary..."

Planning session, operation ARCHER, Marshall City, 117 years ago

General Randleman tapped the desk twice with her hand to indicate quiet from the assembled officers, 'Right, this is the big one...Operation Archer. Armour and infantry with full naval and air support will be re-establishing our beachhead on Grafton's Isle. We'll be landing in force at these four beaches – King, Rook, Queen and Knight - surrounding the coastal town of Grettleton in Crowham at a date and time to be determined; H hour, D day.'

'The goal of this operation will be to establish a secure foothold on the Isle and then push inland, with the final target of the operation to occupy Galyana here.' There was a murmur from the assembled officers, 'I realise it's a tall order to take Galyana with our current resources, but anything less leaves us exposed on that plain and wide open to counter-attack. The entire beachhead could easily be destroyed under those circumstances.'

'We're pulling every piece of armour we can spare for this, along with a large percentage of our naval assets and infantry units. Rest assured that if this does not succeed it will be the last assault on the Isle for quite some time, gentlemen.'

'The airborne infantry units will be dropped in ahead of the main assault behind this defensive wall the Union has established; they'll be charged with eliminating the major inland artillery batteries and clearing a path so that armour from King and Knight beaches can link up for the push inland.'

'It's a hell of a mission, men, but you're the best there is. The Supreme Commander has the utmost faith in your ability to pull this one off. More detailed briefings will take place closer to the operation, but for now study your objectives and every other unit's objectives until you have them memorised to the detail. Dismissed!'

Overton, Marshall Island, 117 years ago

The airbase at Overton was somewhat more crowded than usual; with all the decoy aircraft stationed further North at Hawthrope airfield, they'd had to keep their own transport planes in the hangars and the thousands of parachute infantry had been confined to barracks almost since they'd arrived. There was an air of anticipation among the men and women of the Fourth and Seventh Parachute Regiments as they prepared their gear on the tarmac, checking each other over.

Lieutenant Rui Shinohara leaned her Enfield No.4 rifle against the wheel of the truck next to her as she was handed a letter, 'From Colonel Landers, listen up!'

The paratroops around her mostly just glanced up from preparing their kit as she opened the letter, 'Tonight is the night of nights...' she blinked, 'As you read this you are embarking on the great crusade for which you have trained these last two years.' She sighed, 'Make sure you've got your wills filled out, we're jumping tonight.'

Army transport aircraft heading for Grafton's Isle, September 30th 1953, 117 years ago

The strangest thing, Rui would recall, was the way nobody talked as the aircraft droned towards their drop zones; people prayed, carefully checked over their gear or in one case silently wrote a letter, but in the whole plane the only talk was in the cockpit.

Below them the gleaming ocean suddenly turned to land; moments later the first burst of flak rang out ahead.

Rui stood in the doorway, slipping her copy of the Tanakh back into one of her uniform's pockets and checking her chinstrap, whispering a prayer for God to look after her and guide her as she watched for the jump lights to come on.

Roof of Caine's Tower; Hyperborea; 10,480 years ago

Caine ran his fingers over the tome in front of him nervously; this was the Forbidden Book, and ancient text of blasphemous incantations and rituals. It contained things that no man should learn, and it some said that it carried a terrible curse for whoever dared to read its foul words. He really didn't want to use it, but he feared he had no other choice; the survival of his people demanded that he take this risk. With numb fingers, he gingerly opened the massive cover and started reading the cramped scrawl that was the book's text.

After several hours of ceaseless study, he found what he believed to be the ritual he needed: 'To Appeal To The Walker Of The Winds'. He wasn't familiar with that particular being, but he figured that if nothing else, such a creature would know whom he could talk to. As he started to chant the eldritch words, he didn't notice his son hiding in the corner, watching with rapt attention.

The clouds in the sky rolled angrily as the words were spoken, a deep red hue spreading across the sky. A giant head could be seen on the horizon as The Walker Of The Winds stalked towards the tower. It's form, while vaguely Hyperborean, was still hideous to behold and its eyes blazed with hatred and malevolence. Caine found himself unable to tear his gaze away from the horrible sight before him, even as his mind screamed at him to flee. Back in the corner of the tower, young Victor crawled back even further, trying to make himself smaller and more insignificant than he was.

The Walker Of The Winds quickly closed the distance to the tower and looked down at Caine, a sneer playing across its wind-chapped lips. Even with its giant, shoeless feet sinking into the ground around the tower, its head was still close to twenty feet above the rooftop observatory. Its eyes were black flames and its skin pocked and torn from the harsh gales that always surrounded it. Its gaze was impossible to decipher; it was not a benevolent being, it was not even an indifferent being like Saint Toad. It was a being of spite and callousness. There was not gratitude to be seen, even though Caine had granted it temporary release from its prison. Only the power of the incantation of the presence of the tome kept The Walker Of The Winds from crushing the tower in a mighty blow, and even that was far from certain.

Its voice was the howling of the winds and the chill of elemental ice. Its words beat down Caine like a bludgeon, "WHY HAVE YOU CALLED ME, MORTAL?"


Make-shift Debriefing Room, Cloakship Siegfried

Futami glared at the Section 4 agent, still pinning him to the wall, "Time to talk, Skippy. I want to know just what the Hell is going on."

"F-fuck you," he was having trouble talking with Futami's hand around his throat. "I ain't telling you shit, rug."

Futami grinned, a gleam of malevolence in her eye, "Tell me Mr. Section 4… do you know why Kitsune still like to sleep outside, and why they'll often build dens even when they have perfectly suitable houses? No?" She moved her face to him, her muzzle almost touching his face, a rumbling growl accompanying her words, "It's because we still have a strong bond to our ancestral predecessors."

She licked her lips before continuing, "Now, did you know that it's only cannibalism if you're eating your own species…?"


Elisa's Office; Corporate Spire; Chiba City; the Hack
Later

"Okay, Futami, talk to me. What's going on here?" Elisa was quickly finding her good mood evaporating. Faye and Sarah had taken her out for her birthday, and she had been besieged with bad news every since she got back. She'd already learned of the fact that the majority of the fire team was in the hospital, and now Futami was looking horribly worried. She could sense there was a big problem, but she didn't want to pry into Futami's thoughts, and the trained Kitsune was probably more than able to keep her out.

Futami sighed, trying to relax in the luxurious leather chair she was sitting in, but she was too tense and too nervous to let herself unwind. She looked, and felt, like a spring that was ready to snap at any moment. It was taking considerable effort on her part to avoid clutching the arm rests hard enough to dig through the leather. "It's Section 4. I think they're planning a coup. I wasn't able to learn much, my… ah… informant was only mildly talkative, but there's something going on, Elisa, and I'm worried."

Elisa nodded, moving around her oak desk to take the seat next to Futami, concern etched into her face, "Okay. I know it's not easy, but what do you know? Why do you think they're trying to take over?"

"There was a Section 4 agent on the Siegfried and he started to debrief me. I thought it was odd, but couldn't figure out why until I had pretty much told him everything. I didn't remember that Section 4 wasn't involved in this until I had showed him the pictures and everything."

Elisa rested her hand on Futami's shoulder, "Don't worry about that right now. It's an honest mistake: you guys started in Section 4. It's reasonable that I might have involved them."

Futami shook her head, "No, I should have realized it wasn't right." She sighed again, "Anyway, after I remembered I started to question him."

"He was willing to talk?"

Futami grinned a little, "Only after I threatened to… um… eat him."

Elisa giggled softly, "That's a tactic I'd never consider."

Futami smiled weakly, "I'm not proud of it. Last thing I want to do is to perpetuate some stereotypes or anything, but… it was all I could think of. I don't have the stomach for actually torturing someone."

Elisa smiled, "Well, I wouldn't call that a character failing. Go on."


Futami's Apartment; Tindalos Megalopolis; the Hack

Yori was listlessly clicking through channels on the tri-V, bored out of her mind and worried about her sister. Her ears pricked up as she heard the security bolts on the front door sliding back and looked over her shoulder eagerly. More than anything, she wanted to be able to pounce her sister as she came through the door but was too weak from her recent treatments to manage such acrobatics.

"Tamafune! You're home!" Yori smiled happily, holding her arms out to her sister.

"Finally. How are you, Yori-chan?" Futami smiled and hugged her sister tightly. She sighed softly as her sister reminded her of the two things she hated about her job: leaving her sister alone and being forced to use an adopted name.

"I'm okay. I missed you." The younger Kitsune tilted her head to the side, a look of concern on her face, "What's wrong?"

Futami smiled sadly, "The mission went… badly. Fusa, Uyo and Kaori are all in the hospital, and so is the girl from Marshall Island."

Yori's eyes widened in shock; she had met the others at the wedding, and couldn't imagine anything hurting her sister's teammates, let alone something nasty enough to land them in the hospital. "Are they going to be okay," she asked softly.

"I think so. They're pretty tough…"


Amber Pool Hall; Warrens Level 20; Chiba City; the Hack
3 years ago

A thick haze of cigarette smoke hung in the air, creating strange beams of light from the hanging lamps. Futami was relaxing in a nearby chair, watching the game unfolding in front of her eyes, nursing a bottle of Bad Frog Beer. An amused grin played across her lips; Uyo was beating the hell out of the local champ. It had started as a few friendly games of 8-Ball, but Uyo's opponent had been growing more and more hostile as the cocky Kitsune shut him down in game after game.

"Off the side rail, into the 8 ball. Cue ball off the 3 ball, then the back rail. 8 ball off the 6 ball, then the cue ball again; corner pocket." She gave her opponent a feral grin as she lined up her shot, the cue resting easy in her hands. The man just shook his head: Uyo had made some insane shots, but this was just impossible. He nearly dropped his beer as Uyo drew her arm back and fired forward, the balls acting exactly as she said they would. He stared at the table mutely: Uyo had completely run the table, he never had a chance to shoot. Futami just laughed and clapped her hands, never play against someone with a targeting sight in their eye…


Specter Estate; Marshall Island

Elisa shook her head as Josef offered her a cup of coffee, and again when he offered something with a bit more kick. They were in a little used study in Josef and Alice's house. Between the house allotted because of Alice's position and additions paid out of Josef's salary, the house was pretty impressive, almost as large as Alysa and Emily's.

The study was rather unremarkable. There was a small bar, a few bookshelves with an odd mix of books on computer theory and aviation, a largely unused, and thus clean, desk and a few chairs. On the desk were a couple electronic devices in working condition and a few that had been tossed here to get them out of the way. One simple had two lights on it, green and red. The green light glowed faintly, indicating that there were no bugs, cameras, or any other kind of recording device. The other was a mini-hologram projector tied into the Neural Network.

Standing in one corner was the world's strangest grandfather clock. It was a battered nonfunctional thing when Josef had bought it a few years ago, and he had proceeded to modify it as only a Hacker could. It was in this study because it was a rather hideous thing, and didn't fit with any of the furniture in the front room. Elisa also suspected it was because Alice wanted nothing to do with it. She was something of a geek herself – which is how she was able to put up with Josef – but even she had her limits.

Josef was sitting on the other side of the desk, leaning back in his chair as he looked over Elisa's report, Futami's report and the pictures. He eventually set everything down and looked at Elisa, "This… isn't good."

Elisa had to smile despite herself: Josef always had a knack for understatement. It was made all the more amusing with his Marshall Island accent, something he'd developed after spending years living here. He would occasionally joke that Alice had corrupted him. He wasn't joking now, but he still was difficult to read. Elisa shook her head, "No, it's not."

Josef leveled his gaze at Elisa, "Why didn't you tell me about this mission before? Or, for that matter, your other dealings with Eurusea? Kidnapping? Sabotage? Christ, Elisa, you can tell me about these things, you know."

Elisa sighed, "I'm sorry Josef, but with the VERITAS pact, making these actions official would have required us to tell them, and you know I can't do that."

Josef shrugged, "Don't worry about VERITAS. What Maribeth doesn't know, she can't share. You know how we operate, Elisa. I'm not going to scuttle my ship because of a toothless treaty." He smirked, "You don't honestly think we've pulled agents from VERITAS nations just because the Intel Pact says so, do you?"

"Well, no. I'm just a little paranoid I guess. You can imagine why."

"Hm, yes. The attempt on your life." He nodded slowly, "Truth is, I already knew a lot of this, I just want to impress that you can tell me these things."

Elisa blinked in shock, "You knew? How?"

"I trust Section 4 about as far as I can throw them. Michael may be a hopped up adrenachrome addict, but he's loyal. I've had him spying on Section 4 since Victor created them."

Elisa just shook her head, starting to smile a little, "Guess I underestimated you, huh?"

Josef winked, "Everybody does. Suffice it to say, the Oligarchy isn't stupid."

Elisa laughed, "I never said you were."

"Oh, there's more to the Oligarchy than just me. There's you, for one. Sometimes I ask Dredd and Violet for their ideas…" He grinned as Elisa giggled at the thought of him asking his dogs for political advice, "And there's everyone's favorite firewall." He flipped a switch on the holoprojector and the shimmering image of Anesca sprang into view.

She smiled at Elisa before glancing at Josef, "I was wondering when you going to get down to business."

He waved his hand dismissively, "Yeah, yeah, yeah."

Anesca rolled her eyes as only a teenage girl can and continued, "Okay. While on the Siegfried Futami learned what Josef and I have been worried about ever since President Solis resigned.

"They have been trying to learn as much as possible about Elisa's dealings with Eurusea. They first became suspicious when their mole reported that Faye was visiting you, Elisa." She held up her tiny hand, cutting off any comment. "Don't worry about that now; it's not your fault. I didn't tell you – or Josef – about him because I wanted to monitor him and see what he was feeding Section 4." She grinned at Josef, "Don't give me that look. You helped program me and your surprised that I'm a sneaky lil' bitch?"

She giggled a little before continuing, "I didn't want to tip my hand, because he was more useful where he was. I don't know if Section 4 had anything to do with the assassin, Elisa. I don't think they did. It seems Eurusea had similar problems." She frowned a little, "Their political climate makes it easier for them to be more ham-fisted when dealing with this sort of thing, however. Take that as you will.

"At any rate, Section 4 wants to gather as much Intel as it can regarding Hack / Eurusea relations and then sell that information to factions hostile to the current Eurusean premier. The theory is that they'll use it to fuel a coup in Eurusea. Their hope is that the new powers-that-be in Eurusea will also use this information as an excuse to declare war against the Hack, necessitating the creation of an actual government."

Elisa blinked, "You're joking, right? That's the most convoluted plan I've ever heard!"

Josef shrugged again, "Well, yes. It is. But they want to minimize their own exposure. Even if it doesn't work, it will make things very difficult for us here. It seems Section 4 doesn't care who's in charge as long as somebody is. They don't like the fact that their budget is so low, and they really don't like the concept of an Oligarchy."

Anesca continued, "Stupidity aside, it's a problem. The vast majority of our citizens won't care in the slightest who's in charge as long as the proverbial trains run on time."

Elisa started, "But we can't let them stage a coup in Eurusea! Nicole and Faye are so close to actually reforming Eurusea."

Anesca smiled, "Oh, I'm not about to let them, don't worry."

Josef nodded, "Indeed. But Eurusea's future isn't the only concern here. Anesca and I are worried that Section 4 might get it into their head to try and eliminate certain key players. Specifically, you and me. Needless to say, I don't like the sound of that."

Anesca grinned, "Luckily, they've horribly underestimated me. They think they've got sufficient blocks on their mainframe to keep me out. Of course, I can bypass their security. We're just waiting for the right time to drain their accounts, remove their data, and generally screw them over. The physical clean up will take more time." She smiled, "I've been thinking that irony demands we enlist the help of your favorite fire team…"


Undisclosed Military Hospital; Marshall Island

The four Kitsune were in their beds; machines and monitors beeped softly; IV drips slowly ticked off the seconds as medicine and saline slowly flowed into veins. The curtains were drawn to keep out the light and prying eyes. Aside from the sounds of technology, the room was as quiet as the grave.


Don’t believe in fear
Don’t believe in faith
Don’t believe in anything
That you can’t break
You stupid girl
All you had you wasted
~Garbage, "Stupid Girl"

The field was littered with corpses, some in uniform, some not; all were familiar. They were people who had been killed by her hand. As she walked through the field, she noticed the deep red sky; like a sunrise, or as if the sky itself was bleeding. Her pace quickened, trying to leave the field, but the field never ended; it would not let her escape. Her feet made no sound as she ran through the field; she couldn't even hear her own labored breathing.

As she ran down a soft, rolling hill, one of the corpses shot out a hand and firmly grabbed her ankle. A silent scream tried to escape her lips as she pitched forward and slammed into the ground. She furiously tore and the decayed hand, finally freeing herself only to have three more corpses grab her. She frantically tried to escape even as more corpses staggered to their feet and started to lumber towards her.

A solitary figure watched the Kitsune struggle, its four eyes glowing dully in the sickly light. He raised an armored hand and gave a dismissive wave. As the Kitsune struggled, her own body turned against her: modified eyes started to cloud over, refusing to focus; augmented muscle tore itself free from its ligaments and the bone; the pain editor ran backwards, amplifying the already searing pain; and the speed booster sapped her strength, making all her motions slow and sluggish.

"Doctor? Her heart rate's through the roof! She's about to go into arrest!"

"Give her some sedatives to calm her down."

The world went black as the corpses closed in even closer. She was unable to resist any more. No use fighting any more. What was the point?


He's the King of Cool
And he's the Devil who Waits
Since his mind left school
It never hesitates
Won't waste time on elementary talk
He's a twentieth century fox
~Pandora's Box, "Twentieth Century Fox"

"Yaar! Avast!" The Dread Pirate Orange-Fur was the most fearsome pirate of the seven seas, and he was in the little town of Triconda for loot, plunder, and women. He was a sight to behold, a tall, lean Kitsune. He had streaks of white fur from scars, a black patch covering his eye, and a wicked, gleaming cutlass that he used to great effect. "Come, me hearties! Don't dally and get yer arses in gear and get me some booty!"

He kicked down the door of an inn, his blade flashing quickly and felling the poor sod who had decided to make a name for himself by resisting the dreaded 'pirate menace'. He grinned menacingly, "Don't the rest of ye be a fool like 'im. Just hand over yer valuables and we'll be on our way." He strode boldly through the inn as his underlings ransacked the building. He stopped as he reached the back and saw three female Kitsune trying to hide behind a piano.

"Well, now… what do we have here?" He seemed to completely tune out the sounds of chaos raging behind him.

One of the girls glared daggers at him, "Piss of, ya bastard."

"Ah, spirit. Ye three be just what I'm looking for!" He called three of his men over to drag the women back to the ship as he surveyed the bedlam around him. Ah, t'was good to be a pirate indeed.


People climbing up the walls
Breaking all of my wretched dolls
Fingernails they scratch outside
In the attic is where I'll hide
~Switchblade Symphony, "Dollhouse"

The corridors were endless, she couldn't find her way out, and the walls moved behind her. As she tried to run down one spur, she saw the armored form of the D standing there, brandishing a bloodied sword. She ran back the way she came only to find the hallway closed. Her sense of direction had fled her, and she didn't know which way she was going. The milky-white walls resisted any attempt at being marked or scratched. As she fearfully moved town the path that the walls were forcing her to follow, she eventually found herself on a high balcony.

The walls closed behind her, trapping her on the balcony. She looked down to see the woman she loved fighting the D, trying to rescue her. The battle was going poorly for her lover as the D's sword slashed through her heroine's blade and clothing. She sank to her knees, whimpering and paralyzed with fear. Her lover was being killed and there was nothing she could do about it. She couldn't even cry out for help for fear of being noticed by the four-eyed killer.

Tears rolled down her face as she saw her lover fall, and she screamed in terror as the D bent down to carve up the still warm corpse.

Woods near Grettleton Town, Grafton's Isle, 9:34pm September 30th 1953, 117 years ago

Rui ducked down with the few paratroops she'd managed to find around where she'd landed, muzzle flashes from the antiaircraft guns in the woods extending above the treeline. Bursts of flak and lines of tracer fire climbed high into the night after the trailing aircraft in the transport squadrons as they turned back to make their way home. The drop had been utter chaos; she'd been told it would be bad, but watching aircraft full of people she'd trained with being torn up by anti-aircraft fire and crashing into the ground or exploding while she stood helpless in the doorway waiting to jump was almost unbearable.

Even without a weapon, it was good to be back on solid ground after that. In their group most had lost something in the drop; their radioman had no radio, and out of five three had no weapon; the other two were Jenner, another squad's support gunner with her heavy GPMG, and Sato, a sharpshooter who was somehow in the wrong dropzone. Either that or everyone else was.

Sato smiled slightly, 'Well, now we're here, do we have any fucking idea where 'here' is?'

Rui shook her head, 'I saw a town over that way when I jumped, anyone still got a compass?'

Sato shook her head, 'Lost it on the way down...Masters?'

The man nodded, 'Lost mine during the practise jump, that's why I keep it here...'

He reached down his trousers, fishing out a small metal compass. Rui blinked and shook her head, 'That had better be the only reason, soldier.' She glanced around, 'Coat and a flashlight.'

She stuck her head under the coat, placing the compass down and looking over the map, nodding and turning off the light, 'We're about seven miles due Southeast of the objective, and about ten miles from where we should have been dropped.' She grinned, 'Which means you're the one who isn't supposed to be here, Sato.'

Sato smiled, 'Oh, I feel so unwelcome.'

Rui sighed, 'Keep your eyes and ears open for other units, unless you think we can take the objective by ourselves. Stay low, there should be a railway line near here we can follow.'

Jenner nodded, hauling her machine gun back up onto her shoulder, 'I'd feel better if we could find my number two, she's got all my spare ammo and my spare barrels.'

Rui nodded, 'She should be around here, we'll find her.'

She blinked as the air raid sirens started up again, 'That must be our bombers...We've got to get moving. If we don't take the objective fast our armour can't link up there and they'll be wide open to a counter-attack.'

Outskirts of Grettleton Town, Grafton's Isle, 5:31am November 1st 1953, 117 years ago

It had been a long time since they'd arrived, mostly because they were waiting for Colonel Landers to arrive, but with only a few hours left until dawn Major Sasaki has given in and stated he was taking command of the assault until such time as he was relieved. From Southeast of the village it was obvious the Union troops had left most of their weapons pointing West at the coast.

Sato vaulted over the horsetrough Sasaki was hiding behind, saluting, 'Got Boreals with seventy-sixes and a pair of heavy nineties pointing West, couple of AA guns on halftracks and two mortars in the square. I counted eight MG-52s, maybe more. Looks to be at least a company plus armour.'

Sasaki frowned, the Segonune man rubbing his eye as he tended to when thinking, 'Right...First platoon of D company and second of C company are to circle around to the warehouse Northeast and set up our mortars there. Where are our damn Jimmy-tubes?'

'Carter and Ogawa have them, Sir.'

'Well, tell them to get them up here on the double, we'll need them to take out those fucking tanks. They won't be landing Tigers on the beaches until we take this town.'

Ogawa made it up first, laying the heavy metal tube on the ground with the sight pointing up, her loader following with a bag full of the stubby anti-tank rockets the weapon fired. Sasaki nodded, 'Ok, they should start hitting the beaches soon...We don't have much time.'

------------------------------------------------------------

Socialist Union Karl Marx Class Battleship Proletarian Triumph, Razgriz Straits, 2:38am December 25th 1897, 173 years ago

Admiral Juliet Martin lowered her binoculars, running her fingers down the cold pane of glass between her and the blizzard outside, the windscreen wiper occasionally flicking across. It was hard, but she'd managed to make out a dark form in the sky ahead and due North of them, 'They say this is the last one left after they took that other one down a month ago. And she's right on time.'

Comrade-First Officer Peterson lowered her binoculars too, 'I bow to you superior ability to see shit through all this snow, comrade...Are you sure the rest of the formation will be able to see our Morse lamp in this?'

Juliet sighed, 'They'll have to. Have each ship make sure the one next to it moves off.'

Federal Airship Dreadnought, 3 miles North

Colonel Hiram Dauntain rested his hand on the ship's oak wheel, feeling the slight vibration as the seven hundred foot airship was buffeted by the wind. His mind had long shut out the drone of the forward propeller sets, though he did still have trouble with headaches. He checked his gloves and pulled his fur-lined leather jacket tighter, smiling, 'Just have to get through this and we'll be home in time for Christmas.'

Socialist Union Fleet

The mast crews were happy they didn't have to try to unfurl the sails in this weather, each vessel's four paddle-sets having been deemed enough to engage the huge Air Dreadnought, over twice the size of any of the Union ships. The ominous dark shape was now easily visible, silhouetted in front of the moon and apparently yet to spot the funnel smoke of the ten ships bearing down on her.

Admiral Martin frowned as the gunnery officer looked up, 'All forward guns primed and ready, Comrade-Admiral.'

'Hold fire until my mark.'

Dreadnought

Colonel Dauntain nodded and handed the observer's binoculars back to her, 'There's something out there, but with all this damn snow I can't tell what.' He turned, 'Best be ready in case it's not ours, sound battle stations.'

The bells rang out all down the airship, her lower cannon batteries swinging up slightly. Dauntain moved back to the ship's wheel, 'Steady as she goes. Keep the searchlights out unless we need to open fire...Let's just head past whatever it is if we can.'

Socialist Union Fleet

In the observation station of the Proletarian Triumph, Kennedy cranked the telephone for the gunnery stations furiously, finally getting through a moment later, 'Yes, target is at azimuth two-eight-three, elevation thirty degrees, range approximately two miles.' He scowled, 'Yes approximately, my fucking rangefinder's packed up in this storm. Don't miss.'

In the B turret, Jennings scowled, 'You think I can miss a target that big?' He blinked as the bell on the gunnery telegraph sounded, the needle flicking from the 'hold fire' position past 'ordered fire' to 'fire when ready.' He pulled down his goggles and facemask, fitting the ear defenders in place before making a series of handsignals for the gun crews to do likewise. A few moments later the two barrels jumped back in turn, the loading crew scrambling to replace the shells and powder bags.

Dreadnought

Dauntain blinked at the flashes in the darkness and was already giving orders for the massive airship to take evasive action as the first volleys splashed down in the water below her, most falling short and none hitting home, 'Return fire! All lower battery guns fire immediately!'

Socialist Union Fleet

Kennedy couldn't help but marvel at the truth in the stories of the superior gunnery of these airships as Dreadnought's first volley hit home, the nearby battleship Justice listing violently as shells crashed into her aft mast and second funnel, showering her deck with lethal shards of timber and burning iron. The Glory suffered a similar hit to her forward turret a moment later, the impact igniting the powder bags inside the turret and throwing the circular roof off into the sea. The shockwave from the explosion was enough to rattle the windowpanes of Kennedy's observation box; he didn't like to think what it must've done to the ship next to her.

As the next volley was sent screaming into the night Dreadnought's searchlights clicked on, making it difficult to spot the splashes in the water below her. Kennedy grabbed the telephone, 'B turret, adjust your trajectory; azimuth negative three to two-seven-zero, elevation positive ten degrees to six-four, charge as before. A turret, adjust your trajectory...'

Dreadnought

Dreadnought shuddered slightly as her portside battery fired again, Dauntain shaking his head as he looked through the underside periscope, 'Few more like that and they'll have our range...'

The immense airship shook suddenly as the splashes of the third volley from the Union fleet rose from the sea all around her, a massive ball of fire rolling upwards from underneath her portside primary gun installation. The smoke trailed back behind Dreadnought as she carried on moving, her fire crews rushing to the impact site to stop the flames reaching her gasbags.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v453/GMCMA/GMC/Dreadnought-end3textsmall.jpg

Socialist Union Fleet

Kennedy nodded, 'Confirm, first hit from this ship, gun position B, starboard gun. Keep it up.' He blinked as his co-observer Lennox returned with a flask of coffee, laying it down on the floor and picking up her binoculars.

She gasped as she watched three rounds from the next volley hit home, 'Look at that smoke! It's in its death throes!'

Kennedy nodded, 'What a pitiful sight...'

Dreadnought

Dauntain could feel the vibration in the ship's wheel as one of the shells tore off Dreadnought's dorsal rudder, making it even more difficult to compensate for the missing number two engine on the port side. He sagged slightly as he was struck by the realisation that he couldn't get away...That he'd never see his wife or his children again.

The young female observer looked terrified as an odd, intermittent sound broke the silence, 'The hull is creaking!'

Dauntain sighed and shook his head, 'It's over. We can't save this ship.'

Socialist Union Fleet, 3:51 am

Just after the volley hit home a colossal ball of fire engulfed Dreadnought's hull around her midsection, the huge shadow falling gracefully out of the sky trailing thick smoke, sending a great pillar of water into the air as she struck the ocean, rolling over and sinking terrifyingly quickly. Where she had been there were only a few small fragments floating on the water and a slick of shimmering oil.

Kennedy jumped as Lennox laid her hand on his shoulder, 'Did anyone make it out?'

She sounded like she wished they had, wished that someone could have made it out. He shook his head, 'Nothing's moving out there.'

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Federal Air Dreadnoughts Salamander, Broadsword, Scherazade, Bastion, Victorious and Dreadnought were built as a result of a vision of the future that was wrong. It was believed that the future of air war and ground war would be determined the airship; that aircraft would never be a match for the great airborne ironclads. Therefore, it would be necessary to built vessels that could fight them. To this end, the six Dreadnoughts were built.

But their enemies in the Socialist Union did not share in this vision, and no other airborne ironclads were built by the Federation's enemy. Instead, because the iron and steel in their immense frames had been taken from shipbuilding projects, they found themselves deployed against blue-water warships with weapons they had never been designed to cope with. Though many of their crewmen knew their duties were impossible, they still accepted their orders and carried them out as best they could.

They fought ferociously, but were utterly defeated.

'W32.Mydoom' bar, Chiba City, The Most Glorious Hack

Faye smiled, sipping her Guinness unusually slowly, 'Aye, lass...It's nice t'meet up like this once in a while...Always had a thing for pubs where y'can here yerself think.'

Elisa giggled, 'So, now you've got the information you wanted, what was this about a history lesson?'

Faye smiled, 'Well, I'm sure yer aware of Kesselstan, yes?'

Elisa smiled, sitting back and sipping her cocktail, 'Well, you blow it up often enough...' she frowned, 'I'm sorry...Please, go on.'

'Guess y'know the history we tell our people about it is a lie?'

Elisa smiled, 'That it peacefully joined the Eurusean Federation and all the trouble is caused by insurgents? Ya, kinda guessed that wasn't true...'

Faye smirked, 'Y' know the other story's a lie too?'

'Huh...?' Elisa looked confused, 'But I thought...'

'...We annexed peaceful Kesselstan for her oil fields, yes. Not a lot of people know what really happened...Y'know Hammondsburg has oil fields, too? Not as big as the ones in Kesselstan, mind, but big enough for our needs. Naw, that's not it at all...'

Painful as it is, we must remember we all had a hand in creating the monster we now fight... ~ Lady Maya

Trivelle, Eurusean / Kesselstani Border, February 4th 1937, 133 years ago

General Kutnyakov shivered and blew into his hands, his breath briefly forming a little cloud of mist and drifting away into the cold night. Snow was falling across the farmers' fields between the Eurusean Army units waiting at the edge of the town and the shadows on the horizon moving slowly towards them.

He turned to Major-General Larin, 'How many do they think are out there?'

Larin pulled her collar tight, sneezing and rubbing her nose, 'One million one hundred seventy-five thousand in total, if everything we've heard is true, Looks like all their Air Fortresses...'

Kutnyakov sighed, 'Against the hundred sixty thousand we could get here from Hammondsburg in time...Bastards.'

Standing on the ancient walls that had protected the city in the age of catapults and cannons Kutnyakov felt helpless to prevent the inevitable...The ten Land Dreadnoughts that stood in front of the wall would be the only serious threat against the immense Air Fortresses bearing down on them, and even their crews looked frightened as they worked to prepare the enormous machines for their last stand.

Kutnyakov shook his head slowly, 'It's hopeless...Even that new bomb the Premier is so proud of can't work miracles...'

Larin shook her head and touched his arm, 'That's not true...We can still win this...'

Kutnyakov looked down, 'How?'

Larin closed her eyes sadly, 'Because I know God would never abandon us.'

Air Fortress Golgotha, leading the Kesselstani Army

General Shestakov smiled, standing on the bridge of the gigantic flagship of Kesselstan's Air Navy with his arms crossed, 'What cowards, to not even mobilise to face us!'

Dyakov, the Duke of Kesselstan's chief strategist, sighed, 'If you must read it that way, General...' he pulled his officer's cap down slightly.

Shestakov scowled, the heavily-built man's grey eyes angry as he turned, 'And what other way is there to read it?'

'Holding back they are protected by the city walls while we are exposed in the air...Their General is quite a strategist. You would do well to consider such a man a worthy adversary.'

Shestakov grinned, running a hand through his thick black beard, 'Nonsense. He is hiding like a rat...Well, no matter. Soon we will sweep them all aside for the glory of Duke Androsov and all Kesselstan.'

Dyakov sighed, 'Arrogance will get you killed one day, General.'

Shestakov smirked, 'Not today.'

Kestrel bomber 17, Eurusean People's Army Airforce

Akimov pulled her headphones up as she finished securing the blast protection shield over the windscreen, the drone of the massive bomber's six coaxial propellers the only sound in its red-lit interior. Nobody in the reduced crew of six was talking, all concentrating on their duties, duties they'd hoped they'd never had to perform.

For years the new Defence Bomb had been tested and refined until it was at the stage it was now, where it could be effectively carried by their stripped-down bomber. With most of the machine-gun turrets removed to reduce drag, counteracting the heavy bomb under the fuselage, they were all but defenceless, and with no escort they were sure to die if they were attacked...But this was Eurusea's last hope.

The bombardier glanced up at her, 'Two minutes to drop zone, comrade. Are we a go or no-go?'

Akimov listened to the static, closing her eyes, waiting for the codeword...

A voice cut in over the radio, 'Judgement...'

Akimov blinked, 'We are go for release, bank away and climb after release to get us clear of the blast.'

The bombardier nodded.

Air Fortress Golgotha, leading the Kesselstani Army

Shestakov laughed as he looked through the sight, turning to Dyakov triumphantly, 'See? The pitiful Eurusean air force can only send a single bomber against the might of Kesselstan!'

One of the radio operators looked up, 'Sir, Air Fortress Shasta is requesting authorisation to fire on the enemy...'

Shestakov smirked, 'Don't bother, it's not worth the ammunition. Ignore it and keep advancing.'

Kestrel bomber 17, Eurusean People's Army Airforce

Akimov nodded, 'We're at the target co-ordinates...'

The bombardier took the two release levers in his hands as the bomber began to turn, 'Now...dropping!'

The plane shuddered slightly as the bomb was released, suddenly increasing in speed as it pulled away.

Air Fortress Golgotha, leading the Kesselstani Army

The gunner looked up, 'General, they're turning away.'

Shestakov smirked, 'Cowards...' he blinked, 'Wha-?'

Trivelle

Kutnyakov blinked and pulled Larin to the ground as he saw the bomber pull away, the searing flash still visible even with his eyes closed. As he glanced back up after the wall had vibrated from the force of the shockwave hitting it, his mouth fell open and he crossed himself, 'Marx preserve us...'

Air Fortress Golgotha

Shestakov gritted his teeth as he hauled himself painfully to his feet, blood running down his face. Whatever it was had gone off a long way from the Golgotha, but nevertheless she was lying on the ground, most of her Levistone vaporised by...by...

He gasped, hauling himself past the broken body of Dyakov to the shattered window, looking up at the searing cloud of fire that rose miles above him and the fields, now littered with the remains of Air Fortresses. He coughed, blood running from his mouth, 'I'll...I'll get you for this!' he stared up at the fireball, his voice full of anger as he shouted out, 'This is an act of the DEVIL!'

Caine's Study; Hyperborea; 10,480 years ago

Caine was still rattled from his 'meeting' with The Walker of the Winds, his eyes were wild and his breathing ragged. His normally rail-like body was gaunt and almost desiccated. Frost that wouldn't melt hung from his face and hands. He'd tossed the Forbidden Book to the corner of the study, unable to focus enough to reensorcell the chest that housed the book. His heart was racing, and he was sweating profusely.

Aabjorn poked his head into the study, concern etched in his features, "Master? Is everything…?"

"The end!" Caine's normally calm and even voice cracked with hysteria, "There is no hope… Iä, the Walker has spoken!" He was starting to froth at the mouth as his words became less an less intelligible; speaking of distant times, lizards in the stars, consuming the flesh of others, intelligent animals, and more things that made precious little sense to Aabjorn.

"Master… the princess…"

"Eviscerate!"


Rain soaked soul of mine
It's a gray day year
From ice cold eyes march
A parade of tears
~Voltaire, "See You in Hell"

Grettleton Town; Grafton's Isle; 117 years ago

Tank Commander Ballantine leaned against his Boreal, a cigarette hanging from his lips, almost in danger of falling to the ground. He looked over at his gunner, Adolfson, and shook his head, "You look nervous, comrade."

Adolfson nodded, "I am, Albert. I doubt the Marshall Islanders are going to leave us alone. It's only a matter of time, isn't it?"

Albert sighed, "Probably."

"Why are we holding this place anyway? Can't we just divide this island up? Neither of us need it, you know."

"I know," he took a long drag on his cigarette, the tip blazing red in the twilight, "You'd have to ask the Premier. All I know is that she wants us to hold it, so we hold it."

"Well, yeah, but 'because I said so' isn't exactly helping morale, you know."

"That's the best I can give," he chuckled. "You think they tell me anything unique? All I know is that we're to make sure those Federals don't take this village."

Adolfson sighed, "Yes sir."

"Try to inspire them, whydoncha?"

Adolfson laughed, "Yes, for the glory of the Union…"


Tunnels Under Caine's Tower; Hyperborea; 10,480 years ago

Aabjorn kneeled down, meeting Victor's eyes; the child was disturbingly unconcerned about events, "Do you understand what is going on?"

Victor nodded sullenly, "Yes. Father has gone mad."

Aabjorn was always surprised at how Victor reacted to most everything. It was as if he was blessed (or cursed) with the apathy of Saint Toad itself, "I fear for your father, Victor."

Victor shrugged, "Fear for all of us, Aabjorn. I saw what happened."

"What?"

"Father called down The Walker of the Winds, and was told that the cold would continue. There is no hope…"

Aabjorn peered at the young Hyperborean, "How do you know all this?"

"I saw it," his voice echoed softly in the corridor, taking on a haunting aspect, "I saw when the… thing came down from the heavens…

"It came down, covered in frost and snow and ice. Its eyes burned with an unnatural hatred for all the things alive. Father's protective circle and the potent Calling spell kept it at bay; I was hiding.

"Its voice was the most horrible thing I have ever heard, high pitched, yet full of evil. I see why that book is forbidden; none such use what is contained within. The Thing told father that we were doomed, that it would not stop the ice and cold that was coming for us. We are a doomed people, Aabjorn. Hyperborea will be entombed in ice." He shook his head sadly, "I… don't know what to do."

Aabjorn frowned slightly, looking at Victor. His master's son was so young, and yet understood so much. He hated the thought of their people being eliminated, but wasn't sure if anything could be done to prevent it. He pondered for a few minutes before speaking, "Let me do some research. There may yet be a way…"


If I had known this is how it would go
What would I have changed? What would I have done?
Who would I have loved? Who would I have left? Would I still be here?
If I look back at you and me, if I ask myself, what could have been?
What I would have done and how I would have lived!
~Black Tape For a Blue Girl, "Bastille Day, 1961"

Uyo's Apartment; Tindalos Megalopolis; The Hack; now

The vase crashed against the wall, glass shattering into a million pieces, the flowers that were inside clinging briefly to the wall before falling to the floor in a heap. Uyo looked from the destruction to a stunned Kaori, "What the Hell is wrong with you?"

The younger Kitsune's mouth was agape, her eyes wide and filling with tears, "But, Uyo-sama… I thought you liked carnations…"

Uyo growled low in her throat, her expression looking almost murderous, "Just… just get out. How many more fucking limbs do you have to lose before you stay away from me? Huh? Are you stupid or just fucking stubborn?"

The tears flowed freely down Kaori's cheeks and she backed away from Uyo, looking terrified, "I… I…"

Uyo took a step closer, growling dangerously, "Get. The fuck. Out! Are you deaf, too?"

Kaori shook her head, whispering, "Just in love," as she turned and ran out of the apartment, her sobs audible through the door.

Uyo swore loudly, kicking the coffee table across the room, barely noticing as it crashed into the wall, Another security deposit down the drain… She sighed and flopped onto her couch, cursing herself for yelling at Kaori, tears starting to trail down her cheeks.

She looked around her demolished living room and shook her head sadly. Once again, she saw the proof that she just wasn't good enough. She'd accepted Section 4's offer because she was a failure as a soldier; Kaori'd lost a hand because she wasn't good enough to protect her; and she was slowly losing her mind because she wasn't good enough to handle the augmentation process. She got up and knelt in front of the twisted carnations. Kaori had been right, she did like carnations, and at this time of year, they couldn't have been cheap. The vase had been nice too: hand blown and shaped. She picked up a shard of broken glass, ignoring the slight pain as it cut her hand and threw it to the other side of the room.

She curled up on the floor, surrounded by destruction, her life in shatters, just like the vase. Her life trampled under her own rage, just like the carnations.


So you go 'round and 'round and 'round
Another life another wound
From death to birth from birth to death
No time to waste no time to rest
~Deine Lakaien, "Reincarnation"

Outside, in the hallway, Kaori sat on the floor, crying softly. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small box. Inside was the locket she hadn't even had a chance to give Uyo. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she got up and went to the elevator, going to the top floor, looking for Fusayoshi's apartment.

Fusayoshi opened the door, blinking in surprise at seeing Kaori standing there, tears drying on her face. He motioned her in, having a good idea of what happened, even without the wealth of information he could pick up by just being near her.

On the couch, a male Segonune was snuggling a female Nekoite. They looked up, able to tell something was up. Fusayoshi sighed softly, "Kazu, Otsu… perhaps you should pick up Kiyoko without me…"

Kazu nodded, standing and offer his hand to Otsu, who happily accepted, "Sure thing, Zen. Gimmie a call if… well… if you need anything." Otsu simply gave Kaori a friendly hug before following Kazu out.

Kaori sighed sadly, feeling a little jealous that Fusayoshi seemed to have a comparatively sane and normal personal life. She sat on the couch, sniffling and afraid to talk.

Fusayoshi watched her with concern, even his gleaming artificial eye looking emotive and compassionate. He sat next to her and put an arm around her, "It's about Uyo, isn't it?"


The wind is changing
The trees are changing
...And I am changing too The Sun is shining
The Earth is turning
...And I am not the same.
~My Scarlet Life, "Spirit Song"

Elisa's Office; Corporate Spire; Chiba City; the Hack

Anesca sat quietly in the chair on the other side of Elisa's desk, looking more than a little distracted. She was thrilled that Elisa and Josef trusted her enough to consider her part of the 'Oligarchy', but she felt overwhelmed. Josef was a brilliant programmer who had been in charge of several of the Hack's more ambitious projects. Elisa was a well known diplomat who'd been involved in running the country ever since President Gibson's death. She was just a teenager who had a supercomputer for a brain. She felt outclassed, and the fact that her promotion had occurred at the same time as the beginnings of a coup didn't fill her with hope.

Elisa smiled at her, sipping some coffee from a mug. She looked much calmer. Perhaps having lived through an assassination attempt did something to make her more self confident. She set the cup down, appraising the Hack's most successful AI, "You need to relax, Anesca. You're doing fine. Now, what've you got for me?"

Anesca smiled weakly but nodded. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she fought the urge to run all her words together, "Okay… I did some digging in 4's systems. Currently, they think they've found a way to keep me out of critical areas. Unless they've done some insane masking, that's just wrong. I was able to slip in and keep my intrusion hidden. Right now they're just biding their time: shoring up their ranks.

"From what I've seen in their encrypted files – silly, really; I'm the one who created our encryption protocols – they don't even have total loyalty in their own ranks, let alone in the general populace. It looks like they're hoping to sway public sentiment, but I doubt that'll work."

Elisa nodded, "As long as the trains run on time and all."

Anesca grinned, "Exactly. In all honesty, this looks like the brain child of a small cabal of Section 4's leaders. They don't like that they're largely useless: current Eurusean… excursions have driven home just how little they matter. They may have created our 'super-soldiers', but they aren't in charge any more, and that frosts them. I think your relationship with Director Madigan is part of it too."

Elisa quirked an eyebrow, "What does Faye have to do with this?"

"Rationally? Nothing. However, they aren't being rational about this. The view is that the warming of relations with Eurusea, even covert ones, is a further eroding of our national sovereignty. They were a driving force behind Gibson's decision to leave the UN all those years ago. They were pissed over our relation with the Federation, and fear anything that limits our government."

"What government?"

"That's the point, Elisa. They feel that having a strong central government is key, and they hate the Oligarchy, the semi-autonomy… all the things that we view as improvements. They don't want a situation like we had with the Union, but they don't what the current situation."

Elisa frowned, "So we're dealing with statists?"

Anesca shrugged, "I guess. They have a distinct world view, and things aren't right for them."

Elisa nodded, "Okay, I guess. They're pissed and think overthrowing the Oligarchy is the only way to accomplish their goals."

Anesca smirked, "It's not like they can hope to win an election, you know."

Elisa waved her hand dismissively, "Yeah, yeah. Two big questions: can we trust Mikhael, and how much of a threat are they?"

Anesca frowned, thinking about her reply, "I think we can trust Mikhael. He's bitter over his loss of power, but he's in no condition to cause any real problems. Any help he'd give would be minimal. He's not willing to risk losing what he has; minimal as it may be. Let me amend that… we can't fully trust him, but he won't knife us in the back. I'd make sure that he isn't given anything that he doesn't strictly need to know. Especially regarding this: the last thing we need is Section 3 getting involved.

"As for the other… well… right now they aren't much of a threat at all. Their systems are compromised and they can't so much as send a dirty joke without me knowing about it. I don't think we should wait too long, though. The longer we wait to do something, the more likely they'll be to sway more people." He shrugged and giggled a little, "Right now, Fusayoshi could 'solve' the problem on his own."

Office of Internal Affairs, Marshall island

Ikumi Koyama bowed slightly as she stepped into her office, the Cervidine's hooves clicking softly against the polished floor as she moved over to her desk. Internal Affairs had recently moved to a new building, the open, airy office block vastly more pleasant to work in than the drab building they'd put up with before. She sat down, smiling brightly at Elisa Day sitting in the other chair, 'I'm glad you could spare time to discuss this matter, ma'am...Apparently our friends in Eurusea are still a little unclear on how The Federation operates, since they sent this request to our intelligence instead of yours.'

She slid a folder across the table, 'It's specifically addressed to you and signed by the Premier, a Eurusean Army General and the Director of Intelligence...Looks absolutely authentic.'

She smiled as Elisa flipped the file open, 'It seems one of their Floating Fortress commanders, an Army General named Nadia Kyznetsov, is willing to defect if we can absolutely guarantee that we'll get her daughter out at the same time.' She smiled nervously, 'Which is the sticking point here, really...Normally it wouldn't be a problem, but...'

Elisa looked up, setting the folder down on her knees, 'But what? It couldn't be any more difficult than getting Anya out, surely?'

Ikumi shook her head, 'It could, Elisa. This is a job requiring the attentions of the Federal fleet, not a small fireteam.' She paused, 'You see, Nastasha Kyznetsov is...'

Elisa listened silently. After a moment, the file slid out of her hands onto the floor.

Home of Sarah and Elisa Day, later

Sarah smiled, snuggling up to Elisa on the sofa, 'So, how was your day?'

Elisa sighed, looking preoccupied and worried. Sarah blinked, 'That bad? What's the matter?'

Elisa turned her head to look into Sarah's eyes, sighing again, 'Nothing...' she paused, looking at the floor, 'Just that we're going to sink a Floating Fortress.'

Large-scale computer engineering centre two, Tsaraine

Mana Suzuki tied her dressing gown cord a little tighter as she sat back down again, placing the new cup of coffee beside the half-dozen empty ones already there. She sorted through the pile of clipboards beside her for the stage seven diagnostic set, tapping away at the keys as the little hologram of Ksanya-as-a-child watched. Eventually Ksanya coughed, Mana blinking, 'Oh, sorry...I sometimes lose my train of thought when I haven't slept.'

Ksanya giggled, 'Can we carry on? I want to learn about where you're from...'

Mana smiled; it was impressive how quickly Ksanya was developing, and she had grown quite fond of the little AI. 'Sure, where were we?'

Ksanya smiled, 'Just about the time of some kind of landing?'

Town square, Grettleton Town, Grafton's Isle, 5:37am, November 1st 1953, 117 years ago

Major Sasaki ducked behind a low wall as another volley from the machine gun in the square, gritting his teeth and calling out to the soldiers around him 'Don't stop! Keep moving forward! We can't get stuck out here!' He growled as the nearby Boreal's engine started up, 'Keep moving! Go! Go!'

Sato stopped behind the library just outside the square, raising her hand, 'Jenner, set up here.'

Jenner nodded. It had been a strange sight when she'd found her ammo-carrier among the troops on the edge of town; Jenner herself was over six feet tall and powerfully built, her second a much smaller, slightly built and rather pretty thing. The two looked so different it was incredibly hard to picture them actually being sisters.

Sato scowled, 'Oh, what I wouldn't give for a couple of tanks right now...' she blinked, 'Dead ahead, that's the back of their Boreal, isn't it?' she pointed to something half-driven into an alleyway, 'Ogawa! Get your Jimmy-tube up here!'

The rocket streaked from the tube as the rest of the squad ducked out of the way of the backblast, an explosion blossoming as the Boreal's engine went up. Sato couldn't help but cheer, standing and firing off a few shots towards the Union forces on the other side of the square as Rui ran over from a side-alley, waving them on, 'Come on! Keep going! Push those bastards out of the square!'

Knight Beach, 6:50 am, November 1st 1953
H-Hour, D-Day

The Union troops in their bunkers stared into the mist swirling over the ocean as the sun rose lazy behind them, the first rays showing the damage from the night's bombing. Some of the light positions had gone, but the coastal guns in their massive casemates had stood up to the pounding they'd received from above, as had much of the shore bunker complex.

Wright set down her binoculars on one of the machine gun's spare ammunition cases, unscrewing the cap of the thermos of hot coffee the battery chief had bought down for her earlier; she had a sneaking suspicion he was trying to charm her, which hadn't stopped her accepting. The watch shifts were too long to let her pride get in the way of something like that, after all.

Taking a sip and setting the cup down on the concrete of the pillbox's firing slit, she glanced through the rangefinder for the nearby howitzers, blinking as the veil of mist over the sea out to the west rolled aside.

It was like a bad dream; hundreds, maybe thousands of ships of all sizes, landing craft clustered around massive battleships and carriers. She ran over to the alarm, pulling the yellow and black lever down firmly. The gun crews arrived moments later, to find her gazing out at the Federal fleet. Mitchell tapped her side, 'What's going on?'

Wright's face was white as a sheet as she turned, pointing, 'I never realised there were that many ships in the world...'

Corporate Spire; Chiba City; The Hack

Fusayoshi wandered through the massive lobby of the Spire. He'd never been to the building before, and it was a little awe-inspiring. It was an open, airy affair with plenty of glass and steel, giving the impression that it went on forever. He wandered up to the bored looking security guard who glanced up from his newspaper, "Can I help you?"

"Yes, I have an appointment with Director Specter?"

"Name?"

"Fusayoshi."

The guard sighed, "Last name?"

"Don't have one. I'll be in under just the one name."

The guard peered at the Kitsune and quickly looked back at his computer screen. While he wasn't aware of the extensive modifications that had been done to Fusayoshi's body, it was plainly obvious that he was not a man to mess with. He just had an impossible aura of confidence and competence about him. The guard murmured directions for Fusayoshi and activated the elevator.

"Why thank you." Fusayoshi chuckled softly as he rode the elevator up to the top of the Spire.

As he stepped off the elevator, he was greeted by a chipper little Nekoite wearing a diaphanous dress that left very little to the imagination. Her dress didn't much surprise Fusayoshi as Nekoites had a habit of wearing very little. She smiled up at him, her voice had a slight Galyanan accent, "Mr. Fusayoshi?"

He smiled, "It's just Fusayoshi, but, yeah, that's me."

She nodded, "Jo… er, Director Specter's ready to see you." She got up, her dress fluttering as she walked, and opened the door to the office, "Go on in."

The interior of Josef's office had changed a little since he had first taken Alice up for a visit all those years ago. For one, it was quite a bit more cluttered than before, as he seemed to have an endless amount of work to deal with. On his desk were quite a few pictures, including several of a happy looking Neko girl. Josef smiled as Fusayoshi noticed them, "We just adopted her. Her name's Narumi, and she's already got me wrapped around her fuzzy lil' finger."

Fusayoshi chuckled, taking an offered seat, "She's cute." He frowned slightly, shifting directly to business, "This is a little unusual… most of my dealings have been with Speaker Day."

Josef nodded, leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingers, metal interlacing with skin, "Yes… well, she's a little wrapped up with another project right now. Don't worry, she's briefed me on all of the operations she's used you and your team on, even the 'illegal' ones." He smirked a little and continued, "I'm sure that… ah…" he glanced down at his notes, "Futami told you about Section 4 and their… dissatisfaction."

Fusayoshi nodded, "Yes… she mentioned it…"

Josef frowned, leaning forward a little, "You can trust me, Fusayoshi. Elisa and I both want the same things for this nation. Things that I'm sure you're interested in too. I'm not here trying to screw you over, and I need you to trust me."

Fusayoshi sighed a little, looking over Josef and realizing that Josef was indeed telling the truth. He nodded, "Yes, she told me about her interview and her theories on what was going on. Elisa's hinted at it too, but she never came out fully with what's going on."

Josef nodded, "Yes, well, we're still learning that ourselves. But we do have a bit of an idea…" He spent the next several minutes briefing Fusayoshi on the plans of Section 4 and, more importantly, what the Oligarchy intended to do about it. "…and in the spirit of this new goal, I have a small job that I need you to do before we squash this coup completely."

Fusayoshi nodded. He was surprised at how far Section 4 was willing to go, and realized the importance of stopping them before they completely destroyed everything the Hack had worked to achieve, "What is it?"

Josef slid a picture across the desk. "This is a picture of Victor Babusch. He's one of Section 4's best agents, and we think he's been augmented using a similar process as the one you went through. We're afraid that he might be used as a preemptive measure. Elisa's had one assassination attempt already, I'd rather not have her go through that again."

Fusayoshi nodded, "Indeed." He cracked his knuckles, "So this is the first round, hmm?"

Josef nodded, "Pretty much. Anesca's found where he's staying right now. The address is on the back."


Titanium Street; West Side of Chiba City; 2345 hours

It was a fairly regular middle-rent building; biometric locks on the doors, but too late at night for anyone to notice they're essentially locked in. Fusayoshi slipped a small square of plastic on the biometric key, the circuitry on the square overriding the lock which softly clicked open. He stepped inside, frowning as he noticed that it was markedly cooler inside than out; the cooler air started to mess with his natural ability to see in the infrared range. He mentally clicked on his motion detector and he slinked through the lobby, feeling very much ill at ease about meeting someone here. He drew his sidearm as he moved through the building.

Moving deeper in, the building grew even colder; there were odd bumps on the floor far away from the room he was supposed to go to. As he turned a corner, he was shocked to see the roof covered with dripping icicles. He frowned deeply at the icicles, already on edge and expecting the worse. He flicked the sight attached to his gun on; a thin ultraviolet light playing out in front of him. He panned them over the bumps, kneeling down to get a closer look.

It was the strangest thing he'd ever seen: they almost looked like footprints made of ice, though the shape was totally un-human. They grew more distinct the closer to the room they were; Fusayoshi's ears pricked up as he picked up screams and the sounds of furniture being pushed over in the room he was supposed to be going to. His 'white knight' tendencies overrode common sense, and he quickly moved forward, kicking the door open with a firm kick.

A wave of mist washed over him as the door opened. The inside of the room is cold as a meat locker, Victor Babusch was sitting on the floor with his back to the wall, looking like he was trying desperately to crawl though it. Little clouds of mist from his short, terrified breaths were plainly visible in the air. Standing in front of him was a living nightmare: a huge lizard-like creature that would easily be seven feet tall standing at its full height, wreathed in freezing mist that swirled unnaturally around it. Looking closer the thing itself was made of ice, the only opaque part an odd point-down triangular 'mask' with two slit eyes that glowed a faint, eerie blue.

Despite being trained for any situation that anybody could possibly imagine, and despite his impressive natural talent for handling situations that nobody thought to imagine, Fusayoshi still found himself utterly dumbfounded. He largely ignored Victor, realizing that the man wasn't going anywhere, and focused on the lizard, trying to figure out just how in the hell he's supposed to deal with something like this.

The thing closed one hand, the mist swirling around as, with a series of icy cracking sounds, three double-edged blades extended down from the back of its wrist. It seemed totally uninterested in Fusayoshi, taking a step forward. The man whimpered, "Help me!"

Fusayoshi peered at Victor and shrugged, "Sure thing." As he turned his gaze back to the lizard, his raised his gun, shot the man square in the forehead and lowered his gun back down in one smooth motion.

The thing turned almost supernaturally quickly, the mist swirling around it as it stared at Fusayoshi for a moment, before sounding out a strange high-pitched screeching sound. It seemed clear it still has absolutely no interest in fighting Fusayoshi. His ears twitched, a slight tick playing across his face as the screech stabbed at his rather sensitive hearing. He continued to study the lizard, his optical camera snapping pictures constantly. "Don't suppose you're talkative..." He found himself largely hoping that is wasn't feeling talkative, as he really just wished it would leave.

Abruptly, the mist around the creature thickened and then completely dispersed, the air in the kitchen next door swirling together as the creature reappeared, back flipping rather gracefully through the door out onto the balcony and over it.

Fusayoshi clucked his tongue softly, "Take that as a 'no'..." He slowly followed the direction the lizard went, his curiosity not quite willing to let go. The broken glass on the balcony was covered in swirled patterns of frost. Down below, there was no sign of the creature at all. He kneeled, taking several pictures of the broken glass and frost patterns before deciding that he'd done enough and that he'd really much rather have a cup of hot coffee and a snuggle as he writes up his report. He casually vaulted over the balcony, landing a dozen or so stories below with a thump, his legs absorbing the impact. He holstered his pistol and made his way back to his vehicle, muttering about the insane killing machines he keeps bumping into, and really wishing for the days of trench warfare and blowing up tanks.

Knight Beach, 7:31 am, November 1st 1953 H-Hour +41 minutes

Wright blinked a few times, her vision blurry and her whole body aching more painfully than she'd have thought possible. She tried to turn over, holding her aching side and crying out softly as the sharp pain intensified, her fingers tracing the wet hole in her uniform that went right down to her rib. The air was thick with smoke and the smell of burning; she could barely breathe, and as she looked down her stomach turned.

A trail of blood on the dusty floor spread out from where her left leg stopped at the ankle, her torn boot some distance away. She sobbed gently, not even having the energy left to scream.

The explosion had left her with a ringing in her ears that wouldn't go away, so she barely heard the engines of the Federal tanks coming ashore, though she could feel the ground shuddering. She certainly didn't hear the soldiers until they were right outside the remains of her bunker. She found it hard to care; she was hardly in a fit state for any of the terrible things they were said to do to female prisoners, and being shot would at least make the pain stop...

She managed to raise her head enough to see the door, a figure stepping inside holding a light machine gun, blinking and leaning it against the door as she spotted Wright lying on the ground, 'Medic! Got a live one here!'

Everything seemed to be turning dark; Wright was vaguely aware of being dragged, of someone moving close to her...

She closed her eyes, letting unconsciousness embrace her again.

SU / MT forward command post, Arkham House, Crowham, Grafton's Isle, H-Hour +8 hours

Brigadier Arnold King was not a man who worried easily; that he looked worried now was a bad sign. 'Their landing force was too much for us to stop on the beaches; we're strung out in a series of running battles across the moors and farms, but we can't stop them bringing more armour ashore anymore.' He tapped the map, 'First sighting of some kind of new weapon on the beach furthest North, Baker's unit was there.'

The younger man nodded, 'As far as I can tell it's some kind of new mobile cannon based on the King Tiger chassis, open full-traverse mount of some heavy-calibre new gun; looks at least light howitzer-sized, long barrel.'

General Arthur Day, commander of the Army of Iron, stroked his beard thoughtfully, 'Must be the new one-two-eight for the Tiger Three...How does this thing perform?'

Baker sighed, 'It doesn't look good...They're not that fast and the gun doesn't traverse very quickly either...But they do near-critical damage with every hit and they're armoured like bank vaults.'

Day sighed, laying down his cigar, 'The Army of Iron is to pull back across the Lorna River and set up defensive positions near the towns of Colton and Fernham-upon-Cale. Army of Mercury to the West side of the Dreyton River, Copper is to have their engineers blow the Ollen and Turner spans and take position in Galyana. With those bridges gone their superheavy armour can't outflank us.'

He picked up his glass of port again, stepping around the table with the tactical map laid out on it, 'Holding Galyana is vital if we ever want to destroy their beachhead; with the bridges gone, it's the only place our Gnoph-Kehs can cross the river.

Baker paused, 'Comrade-General, do we really need those things to push back this invasion? They're only...'

General Day raised his hand, 'You won't win this without my superheavies to back you up, son.'

Central Park; Chiba City; the Hack

It was a cool night, not cold enough for snow, but certainly cool enough to require a jacket. A gentle breeze rustled the dried leaves in the trees that filled the park. Sitting on a bench was a young woman wearing a Tindalos Hounds coat, her red eyes off-setting her almost deathly-pale skin. She looked up as a rather non-descript man approached, the collar of his coat pulled up against the wind, a cigarette dangling from his mouth. He exhaled a stream of smoke as he sat on the bench; near her, but clearly not next to her.

"Nice night," he murmured softly.

"Mmm-hmm." She glanced over at him and smiled a little, her white teeth gleaming in the moonlight.

The man winced slightly at the display. He had spent numerous vacations in the Segments, and the concept of showing teeth in a smile was dangerous in his mind. That wasn't his primary concern; however, he was more put off by the woman's sharp canine teeth, "Just my luck."

She smiled sweetly back at him, "What? A vampire ruins your little world-view?"

He smirked, "Hardly. The Thirteen fully realize the existence of your kind… it's a more primal concern."

She laughed, "Don't worry, you're not my type." A pause, "No pun intended."

"Funny. Business?"

She nodded, still not looking at him, "Sure. Your support for Section 4 is unacceptable to the Daughters."

"Really now? We've invested a lot of time and money in them, and your sentimental attachment to the Speaker has nothing to do with our plans."

The woman turned and glared at him, her voice dropping a little, "She has nothing to do with this, you idiot." She opened her coat and lifted her shirt a little, showing a nasty mess of scar tissue on her side, "I've seen more than enough war and killing, technocrat."

He winced slightly, "Really, now? And where did that come from?"

She smirked, "Knight Beach."

"Knight Beach? But there hasn't been anything of note there since…"

"1954. Exactly." She rolled her eyes at his confusion, "Vampire, remember?" She sighed, "Look, I lived through the Federal-Union wars, the Corporate Rebellion, and the uprising in Grafton's. The last thing I want to see is another war on my home soil. Hasn't there been enough killing on these three islands?"

"Who said anything about killing?"

"Bloodless coups are a myth, Hector, and you know it. Besides, do you think the Oligarchy plans to just roll over for your pets?"

"Section 4 has the tech," he mumbled.

"Bullshit. Section 4 came up with military applications, but the most effective of those 'applications' are on the Oligarchy's side. As is GMC. You should be old enough to remember what happened the last time our islands clashed. I still remember the mushroom clouds…"

"They'd never do that. The man who ordered that strike was brought up on treason."

She snorted, "Maybe you're too young after all. We were nuked by order of Supreme Commander Nielson. What makes you think he won't do it again? Look at the GMC-Hack connections, you fool. The highest levels of the two are completely intertwined; politically and romantically. Do you think the Supreme Commander would ignore what's happening here? Do you think that GMC has no interest in the Hack staying the way it is? I know the Thirteen has an extensive library… surely She hasn't purged all mention of Solis."

He stiffened a little, "Leave Solis out of this. You know She hates him."

"Doesn't change what he did during the days of the Union. Doesn't change the fact that he was the one responsible for bringing the Hack into the Federation. Doesn't change the fact that he all but hand picked the Oligarchy."

"It also doesn't change the fact that the advances are coming from Section 4."

"Oh for the love of…" She sighed, "Could you be any more dense if you tried? Section 4 is limited. They're newer than the other Sections – which support the Oligarchy – and their impact is limited. Never mind the fact that the chaos caused by a coup would damage your precious advances. Christ, look how long it took to recover from the Rebellion." She gave him a feral grin, "And remember… there's only thirteen of you."

He blinked, stunned at both her comments and her threat, "You wouldn't dare…"

"Look sweetie, it's really simple: the Daughters support the current regime. We're actively supporting it. There's no chance of a bloodless coup and you know it. So you can either withdraw your support, or you can be responsible for putting us at war again. And trust me, we will hold the Thirteen responsible. I've heard you're grooming one of the Section 4 goons for membership. Now would be a good time to cut him off, literally, and cast your lot with the Oligarchy. I'm sure there's plenty of technophiles to choose from."

"I…" The conversation was not going how he intended, and he could only wonder if it was his own fault that things were falling apart so dramatically. He'd been sent here to convince the Daughters' agent to support Section 4. Now he was on the verge of having two wars at once. The Thirteen weren't pushovers, despite their small numbers, but they were still a quarter the size of the Daughters. Added to all of this was the admission that the Daughters were giving some kind of material support to the Oligarchy and that she was telling him to kill Andersen. Not good. Not good at all. "I'll talk to Her about it…"

The woman nodded curtly and got up from the bench, "Good boy; you do that." She walked off into the night, "I hope I find good news in the paper tomorrow morning…"

Hector sighed, lighting up another cigarette, "By morning? Crazy bitch."


NetHack Bar; Tindalos Megalopolis; the Hack
A couple days later

Fusayoshi glanced up from his beer as the pale human walked in. Her very presence was something of an anomaly as humans rarely came in this particular bar. The way she carried herself, however, kept any of the drunks from trying anything. She seemed to have an aura that said not to mess with her. He didn't think much of her until she sat down across from him. "Can I help you?"

"Why yes, you can." She smiled at him, her red eyes meeting his. "I have some information that will help you." She slid an envelope across the table.

"I need help?"

She grinned, "I have no doubt as to your abilities, but you'll appreciate the help; trust me."

He frowned a little, especially when he looked inside the envelope: it contained a clipping about the mysterious death of a ranking Section 4 agent and a series of maps of Section 4's headquarters. "What makes you think I'm interested in this, and who are you?"

"You can call me Alexandra.. And I'm a friend who knows who you are and knows that you're very interested in that envelope." She stood back up, "Good luck… Zenko."

Fusayoshi blinked in confusion as she walked off, wondering how she knew his real name.

NSPD Hospital, Comberth Harbour

Nanami Shiratori blinked a few times as she woke, glancing around hurriedly. White sheets, the soft beep of the heart monitor, sun glimmering between the open curtains. She sighed softly as her blurry vision picked up a familiar figure sitting beside her bed.

Madoka smiled gently, touching her hand, 'Ssssh...Don't try to move just yet, ok.'

Nanami groaned softly as she began to realise just how much her body ached. 'I really blew it, didn't I, chief?'

Madoka shook her head, 'The rest of your team got out too...They won't tell me anything else right now, and I don't want you to either. Just rest up and get back on your feet.'

Nanami yawned softly, blinking a few more times at how drowsy she felt, 'Heh...Think they gave me a lotta morphine...'

Madoka smirked, 'Well, you're yourself again, anyway...Keiko's been told you're fine.' She sighed, 'Listen, as far as anyone outside this room is concerned you were hurt in training. Same for all of your team'

Nanami smiled, 'Sure, chief...When can I see Keiko again?' she lay back again, flopping against the pillow, 'She's probably worried herself half to death, and I promised to take her to a movie after...'

Madoka held Nanami's hand, stroking her fingers gently with her other hand, 'Soon. You just rest, honey.'

Nanami grinned, 'Pathfinders don't say honey, chief...'

Madoka smirked, 'Bah. How many drinks do I owe you now?'

Nanami yawned again, fluttering her eyes a little like she was going to pass out, but staying conscious, 'Think 'bout twenty...More if y' count the times that don' count...'

Galyana, D-Day + 3 weeks, midnight, November 22nd 1953

'Approach is secure! Bring up the third J-bridge!' Rui Shinohara ducked as another burst of fire from the other side of the canal bounced off the Demag in front of her, the SU/MT machine-gun not nearly enough to damage the armoured half-track. With a roar, the Crotale back down the street fired, the round crashing into a distant building, bringing the beautifully elaborate front wall of it crashing down into the street below in a shower of masonry dust.

The bridgelayer swept around the corner, its heavy steel folding bridge already unfurled and held vertical in front of it like a shield. Several soldiers had climbed onto it and were leaning out to fire around the bridge as it approached the edge of the canal that separated islands #102 and #115. 'Keep those fuckers clear until we can lay the bridge! All guns, suppressing fire!'

Rui ducked back behind the half-track again. It wasn't supposed to be like this: intel has said the force holding Galyana was just 'old men and kids,' not what was there, when seemed like an entire division of elite SU/MT paratroops. The entire operation to take Galyana had only been supposed to last forty-eight hours, but here they were two weeks later, with half the city burning or in ruins, taking back an island at a time...

She shook her head, glancing back up as the ground shuddered, the bridge in position. She quietly whispered a prayer as she ran her hand over the copy of the Tanakh in her pocket, then stood, tapping Sato on the shoulder, 'Stay here and cover us.' She turned, 'The rest of you advance on my signal! Come on, let's secure One-One-Five before sunrise!'

The bridgelayer backed up and turned into a side street, fire from the Crotale's hull machine gun forcing the SU/MT soldiers to duck back under their barricades as the Federal troops began to run across the bridges, bayonets fixed.

I'm the fear that keeps you awake
I'm the shadows on the wall
I'm the monsters they become
I'm the nightmare in your skull
~ Voltaire, "When You're Evil"

Fusayoshi's Apartment, Tindalos Megalopolis, the Hack

Fusayoshi frowned as he reviewed the information that had been given him. He frowned even more at the music drifting through the walls of his apartment. "I know a guy who's tough but sweet / He's so fine, he can't be beat / He's got everything that I desire / Sets the summer sun on fire…" He growled softly, linking into the stereo and turning up the volume, again. The electronic dissonance of Erinfall seemed to fit his mood more. The irony of plotting an assassination while listening to what was supposedly a Christian group didn't escape him, but he never really understood how the band could be categorized like that anyway: it wasn't like techno/house music actually had lyrics to speak of anyway.

The newspaper clipping given to him by Alexandra at NetHack had piqued his curiosity. He wasn't sure why she was giving it to him. While he had been created by Section 4, he and his team didn't really work for them anymore. In the constantly shifting political world of the Hack, he was more a personal employee of Speaker Day than anything. He wasn't terribly concerned about this change as he was still paid, and his pay had always been deposited directly to his account via untraceable means. Section 4 spooks screwing with the bank or Anesca doing it didn't matter to him.

It turned out that the man in the clipping wasn't actually dead – something he was sure Alexandra knew. He had spent the last few weeks working over the underworld: kicking stoolies, abusing criminals, and generally being an abusive fucker. He didn't like doing this sort of thing, but it was required to get the kind of information that he needed. What disturbed him more than the actions was the ease at which he did them. He knew that breaking "Shy" Eddie's fingers was a 'bad' thing, but he didn't much care, especially since Eddie gave him the name he wanted.

It was a slow slog; name leading to name leading to files leading to other names. It was frequently difficult to tease information out of people, and the higher up the food chain he crawled, the more resistant people grew. He hadn't had to resort to real torture, thankfully, but he was well beyond simple threats and knees to the groin. The contact that Eddie had given him had been the most resistant yet. Even after getting kicked around and having a few fingers broken he didn't crack until Fusayoshi started bending his arm backwards; at the elbow. When he realized that Fusayoshi could not only break his arm, but could easily bend it all the way back – and probably rip it clean off – he crumbled, giving Fusayoshi the information he'd been searching for: the Section 4 agent was staying in a safe house in Hali.

"Shit. Hali."

(Turnaround) Every now and then I get a little bit restless and I dream of something wild
(Turnaround) Every now and then I get a little bit helpless and I'm lying like a child in your arms
(Turnaround) Every now and then I get a little bit angry and I know I've got to get out and cry
(Turnaround) Every now and then I get a little bit terrified but then I see the look in your eyes
(Turnaround bright eyes) Every now and then I fall apart
~ Bonnie Tyler, "Total Eclipse of the Heart"

Uyo's Apartment; Tindalos Megalopolis; the Hack

Slowly, she woke up. While her body didn't explicitly need much sleep from a biological sense, the emotional drain had exhausted her. The little display inside her eye didn't care that her eyes were closed, the marquee was perfectly happy to superimpose the little red clock onto the field of blackness that should have been all she could see. She growled softly, turning the clock off; she knew how long she had been sleeping curled up in a ball, surrounded by broken glass and crushed flowers, she didn't need her 'enhancements' telling her. With a willful disregard for glass shards she stood up and looked around her apartment, surveying the damage from her most recent fit of anger.

Broken table, broken chairs, several holes in the wall, shattered vase, pulverized carnations, hole in the wall by the door caused by something-or-other that she'd thrown – thrown! – at Kaori; like everything in her life, it was a landscape of violence and destruction. She sighed heavily, and started cleaning up the mess; it wasn't the first time, and it certainly wouldn't be the last: she was broken, after all, that's why she had these fits of rage, and Kaori – poor Kaori – wanted to be a part of her life. She couldn't let that happen. After all, she'd just get the young Kitsune killed; she'd already gotten the poor thing maimed, wasn't that enough evidence?

An hour or so later, Uyo had managed to clean up most of the destruction. The holes would need to be repaired, but she'd used the last of her spackle after her last fit, and needed to buy more, and she just wasn't in the mood to deal with it just right now. She walked over to the door, inspecting the hole and frowning. Lodged in the wall was a small jewelry box. Curious as she really didn't remember seeing it before. She gingerly pulled it out from the wall and looked it over. It was blue with a stylized unicorn centered on the top. She didn't know the store, but was vaguely familiar with it, and remembered enough to know that whatever was inside hadn't been cheap. As she turned it over in her hands, she figured out what had happened: Kaori had set down the box when giving her the flowers, she had thrown the box as Kaori ran from the apartment. The fact that her memory was spotty caused her a little bit of concern, As she thought about it, this wasn't the first time; she really didn't remember much of anything about the fight in the cave. She remembered sensing Kaori's pain and turning to run down the corridor, but after that, she didn't remember much of anything aside from pain and rage. She started to wonder if she should see someone about it, but figured it was just another item in the continually growing list of things wrong with her. She turned the box over in her hands before tossing it into a closet. She could return it later; Kaori shouldn't be wasting her pay like that.

After dumping a few bags of broken miscellany, she looked around her apartment, wondering what on earth to do with herself. Without even thinking she walked over to her videophone and flipped it open. She turned off the little camera and dialed a number she hadn't used in ages. After a couple rings, the face of an older Kitsune woman appeared on her screen, looking confused, "Hello? Um… is someone there? Come on now, you called me… is this some kind of crank call? Hello?" Biting her lip, Uyo ended the call, whispering, "Hi, mom…"


"The churches are empty
The Priest has gone home
And we are left standing,
Together alone..."
~ October Project, "Dark Time"

Central Street Subway Station, Hali, the Hack

Fusayoshi rolled his head, cracking his neck a little as he stepped off the train, a simple carryall bag slung over his shoulder. He wasn't planning on staying very long and had already decided to just shoot the bastard, so he didn't need to take much with him. He had kicked around the idea of poison, he'd always wanted to work with ricin, but figured that it was more trouble than it was worth. If nothing else, it'd still be a damn sight less dramatic than the last assassination he'd done. Bloody ice monsters. A simple, silenced 9mm pistol was all he'd need. This guy was supposed to be dead anyway, so security would be centered around obscurity, not an overwhelming show of force. He stepped up onto the street and looked around, more than a little stunned at Hali.

Hali was the northernmost city in the Hack, situated just shy of the northern coast of the Mhu Thulan island. After the Corporate Rebellion, President Carl Gibson had decided to place power generation outside of the then tiny Chiba City. He didn't want a nuclear meltdown to kill the remaining civilians. Back then, meltdown was a concern as the fledgling nation simply didn't have the money or technology to create more advanced reactors. As the nation progressed, new reactors were still built in Hali out of habit, as opposed to strategic concern.

What hadn't been planed was for a city to form around the plants. Originally there was housing for the workers, but the little hamlet quickly grew to a city by any normal measuring stick. While tiny compared to the megalopolises of Tindalos and Chiba City, Hali was fully a city in its own right, boasting a population of approximately five million men, women, and children. To further confound visitors, Hali was almost exclusively human, 98% by most estimates. And, strangely, the population existed in a bizarre blending of time periods. The dress and attitudes were from 130 years ago, the architecture from 150 years ago, but the infrastructure was bleeding edge, just like the rest of the Hack. This all combined and produced was what commonly called the 'Newbie Stare'. Essentially, a new arrival would often stand still near and stare dumbly for several minutes before realizing that they were acting like and idiot and finally moving again. Fusayoshi was no exception.

It was while he was standing around like an idiot that a young, attractive Segonune female waved her hand in front of his face, "Hellooo… anyone home in there?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, sorry about that," he mentally kicked himself. Hero of the Oligarchy, indeed.

"It happens to everyone," she giggled softly, her voice betraying a noticeable Federation accent. "Why don't you let me show you around?"

"I'd love to, but I'm here on business." He blinked again as he recognized the woman in front of him, "Wait a second, aren't you..."

"Ivy, yes." She smiled, "Won't you please reconsider, Zenko?"

He looked completely unfazed, despite her use of his real name sending gears in his mind whirling, "Yes, on second thought, I'd love a tour. Thank you, Ivy."

She smiled, "My car's right over here…" She lead him to a rather non-descript hover-sedan, that almost seemed to be designed to blend in. "I'm sure you have some questions for me," she added with a grin as the car smoothly lifted off and started heading north.

"A couple, yeah. You're the second strange woman to call me by my real name."

"Thought you'd pick that. I'm a member of an organization that's very interested in the policies of the Oligarchy, especially the work that Speaker Day has been doing."

"So?"

"Well, clearly you are her primary go-to man. You and your team have been involved in numerous… ah… quasi-legal affairs. You get results and you know how to keep your mouth shut."

"Yes, but I work for the Oligarchy; not you."

"Thought you'd say that, too. You're a respectable and trustworthy man, Zenko. The Daughters believe that you'll get the results we want, and we know that our current goals mesh with that of Ms. Day's. She may not know it yet, though."

Fusayoshi sighed, "Look… please just cut the shit. I can do cloak-and-dagger with the best of them; I'm fucking Jack Flack here, but this is getting a little tiresome. Pretend I'm just a dumb soldier, okay?"

"You're anything but a dumb soldier, and we both know it," Ivy laughed. "But I suppose I can take pity on the poor super-soldier," her tone, while mocking, was more than a little playful. "You're aware of the desires of Section 4, right?"

"Something about a coup. Day wasn't too specific, but I've gather that much."

"Right. There's another organization that supports the coup. While we have no animosity towards that group, we're currently at odds. The man you're here to kill is being groomed to be a member of that group and we don't want that to happen." She gently turned the wheel sending the car on a northeasterly direction, leaving Hali and heading towards the coast. "While this organization knows a lot about Section 4 and their… advancements… we don't want them to have carte blanche access to Section 4's files. Furthermore, we hope that a demonstration like yours will send a message."

"Great. Look, Ivy, no offence, but I don't give a shit about power plays between shadowy organizations that 'don't exist'."

"But you should, Zenko; you should. This isn't just a matter of secret societies beating their heads against each other. There's some major players involved here. Remember your last mission?"

"What about it?" He idly looked out the window, watching as they zipped past crumbling cooling towers from when Hali's reactors were above ground.

"The lizard, Zenko. We have reason to believe that it was sent by another nation."

"Wait… an extra-Federation player?"

"Exactly. The Hack isn't an isolated entity anymore. Hell, the Federation isn't anymore. Aside from NDA membership, or your colony being in Yut, there's some major players involved, and many of them are very interested in the direction the Hack takes."

"Yeah… but who? That lizard doesn't mesh with anything anybody's making."

"Doesn't it? A heavily engineered and gene-modified super-soldier that exists only to follow orders… this one didn't have four eyes, but…"

"Wait… you're saying that thing was Eurusean?"

"I don't know for sure, but it makes sense."

"Why should Premier Kurchatov care about the political future of the Hack?"

"Well, she knows Speaker Day, and I believe their on friendly terms if not outright friends. However, I was more thinking of Intelligence Director Madigan. She and Speaker Day are quite close, from what I've heard."

He couldn't help but blink, "Oh? What have you heard?"

Ivy smiled sweetly, landing the car on a disused boardwalk along a forgotten beach, "Rumor and innuendo, of course. Follow me, please."

Fusayoshi shook his head. Women were confusing enough when they were being normal; this was too much, "Should I even bother to ask why we're here?"

"I want to show you something to illustrate why the Daughters are interested in current events, and why it's in the best interest of the Hack for you to go along with us."

"Sure, sure… let's go."

They walked in silence for several minutes; Ivy not wanting to explain before they reached their destination, and Fusayoshi feeling rather like a puppet being played for other peoples' kicks. The boardwalk continued for a few blocks and they found themselves on a little observation deck. There were a few weathered benches and a pair of long neglected pay-to-use binoculars. Ivy opened her back and pulled out a small pair of binoculars and handed them to Fusayoshi, "Here, use these and look to the southeast. What do you see?"

"Um… nothing?"

"Exactly. You can't tell from here, but there's actually a bunch of craters there, from when my country nuked yours. Well, the SU/MT, but still."

"I remember reading something about that…"

"I'm surprised. A lot of the history isn't taught here. Anyway, that whole area is barren and worthless. Now, look to the north."

"Giant… um… things. Concrete dishes?"

Ivy nodded, "They're sound mirrors. A microphone was placed in the center to pick up sound. They were used in the days before radar to detect incoming planes. They actually worked, even if they were limited. The original plan was to build these every twenty or so miles along the entire coast. A few other stations were actually built, but by they time the Union was ready to really crank up production, some genius had to go and invent radar. Most of the mirrors crumbled a long time ago; this is the only one left." There was a hint of sadness in her voice.

Fusayoshi lowered the binoculars and handed them back, "This is interesting, really, but I'm afraid I just don't see the connection…"

Ivy smiled, slipping the binoculars into her bag, "From right here, you can see to reminders of a much worse, much bloodier time. The blasted craters and the crumbling ears are relics of a time when our nations hated each other. The Union and the Federation fought countless wars, most of them resulting in more spilled blood and wasted life than should ever happen. To the northwest is Grafton's Isle -- I'm sure you're familiar with it. Most of these wars were over that small island."

Fusayoshi nodded slowly, following Ivy on the way back to the car, "Okay, yeah. War is bad, you'll get no argument from me."

"That's just it, Zenko. Section 4 wants to upset the balance; they want to change how the Hack is run; they want a strong central government. You and I both know that their hopes of a bloodless coup won't come true. Hundreds or thousands will die, and goddess only knows what will happen between the Hack and GMC or the Hack and Eurusea." She glanced at him, "To say nothing of what will happen to Josef, Elisa, Alysa, and Anesca." She handed him the car keys, "Take it back to Hali, I have a ride arranged; just… just think about what I've said. The Daughters have as many goals as we have members, but more than anything, we want to avoid more senseless slaughter. If that means targeted assassinations, so be it. We hope this is the last." Before he could respond, she turned and walked back towards the observation point, leaving Fusayoshi standing there with a set of keys and plenty to think about.

He stood for several minutes before getting in the car and heading back towards Hali. He didn't fully understand what was going on, but he had to agree with Ivy's sentiments. He'd seen more than enough killing to know that he was sick of it, and if killing some bastard from Section 4 could prevent more, well, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Or the one, in this case.

It was night by the time he reached his destination: a parking garage about a mile from the no-tel motel where his target was staying. He grabbed his carryall from the back seat and quickly changed into the all black clothing for the job. On the bottom of the bag was a small plastic case. He opened it up and pulled out the simple 9mm pistol and its silencer. He checked the clip, screwed on the silencer, and stuffed it into the waistband of his jeans.

Keeping to the shadows and alleyways, he made his way to the hotel. There were two thugs casually leaning against the wall outside his target's room, chatting and smoking. He made his way to the back of the building, and after a quick look around, scaled the wall, ignoring the pain caused by his fingers grabbing onto the brick façade. Once on the roof, he crept across until he was looking down at the guards. Two soft 'thwipps' and the guards crumpled, the bullets entering the tops of their skulls and exiting through the bottom of their jaws, lodging in the wooden walkway of the second level. He silently dropped down and grinned a little: the door had been left unlocked so the guards could quickly enter in case there was an emergency inside. He slowly opened the door, shooting the guard stationed inside. As he walked up to the sleeping form of his target, he felt a disturbingly familiar chill.

His breath created a faint fog as he turned and saw a large lizard-creature shrouded in swirling mists step into the room. The would-be member of the Thirteen shivered in his sleep and pulled the covers up tighter around his chin, murmuring about the air conditioner. The lizard briefly glanced at Fusayoshi before hissing and turning towards the sleeping man, its ice claws slowly extending. Fusayoshi lowered his gun and stepped back, whispering, "Turn about's fair play…"

He tried not to wince as he watched the lizard work, the man's screams mercifully cut off quickly. Even still, he could hear panicked shouts and his motion sensor picking up increased activity in the rooms nearby; police would be arriving before too long. The lizard screeched again, much like the last time they met. Fusayoshi held its gaze for a moment, "Give my regards to Ms. Madigan." The lizard gave no external sign of recognition, its mist simply thickening and then the whole thing vanished. Fusayoshi jammed his gun back in his waistband, and left the room. He caught a glimpse of the thing fleeing the scene and opted to do the same himself. Getting arrested would certainly be a bad thing.