10. Chapter 10(1)

Chapter 10

Die Trying

Imperial Capital

7:00 AM

"I pledge allegiance to the Flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic for which it stands, one Nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all." the class of 11th graders recited.

16-year-old Dennis Orville smiled slightly as he lowered his hand from his chest and took a seat almost in perfect sync with his classmates. His homeroom teacher moving to her desk and grabbing the math book, giving instructions he just barely listened to. The school day went on as usual. He listened to the teachers, he jotted down notes, he glanced at some of the girls, he chuckled with some of the boys, he took the bus home and watched the Georgia fields and forests pass by.

He hopped off the bus and marched the rest of the way home, a hop in his step that only vanished as he got closer to his house as he composed himself.

Once inside, he helped his mother with the little restaurant, not many showing up in the late afternoon, except for a straggler or two who simply wanted a late coffee or to say "hello".

Closing Hour came.

The sun went down.

A warm dinner was put on the table.

Same as any day.

But not that day.

The dinner table was quiet as they ate.

Agatha Orville stared at him for a moment, her heart audibly threatening to punch its way out of her chest as Dennis showed her some papers.

Dennis finally said, an air of nervousness as he spoke, "The recruiter said I'm good enough to go this summer... if it's alright..."

She swallowed.

"And... you want to go?" she asked.

"Yes, ma!" he said, smiling brightly.

The smile vanished when he saw the sadness in his mother's eyes.

The justifications came quickly, as he had been thinking about them for a long time by now, the teenager rehearsing them all in his head.

"It's just for the summer, and I don't have to immediately enlist after!"

Despite the sadness in her eyes, she smiled slightly, saying "You're only sixteen... are you... sure boot camp's a good idea? Maybe after high school is better?"

He awkwardly said "Well, ma... I was thinking that... well, traffic here isn't all that much, and... and I've been looking at what some officers make in the Army... once I finish high school I can probably go right in and start going up the ranks. Quick, too. I can make good money for both of us."

He saw how nervous the words made her.

He hadn't really cared enough to do anything about it.

Her small smile didn't disappear as she said "Well, honey, if you're sure..."

"I am!"

She glanced at the food on the table, saying "Well... if you're sure, then I'm sure you'll be able to do some good there."

To him, it was probably one of the most fulfilling moments in his life.

I'm so selfish...

Dennis Orville let out a breath he'd been holding, feeling his finger on the trigger screaming at him to squeeze it while his arm refused to allow the muscles within it to do as his mind scrambled to decide as the white-haired girl failed to kill her abuser, the blade having been knocked from her hands as the man landed a painful hit on her face.

Everything had happened so fast he was feeling whiplash.

He'd been so close to grabbing her, so close to saving her...

Why? Why didn't you come with me?

Dennis knew the answer.

"I only care about destroying this damned empire" she had told him the previous night.

"I need to be punished, too" she had said the previous night.

"Run" she had told him less than a second ago.

But instead of running, Dennis stared ahead, frozen as Zorzal held the girl, sealing her fate.

The position the man was holding Tyuule's neck and head would be obvious to any soldier, Ranger or not. She would be dead in a second if he didn't act, and yet his body felt frozen in place, hesitating to kill.

Oh, Bouro he could have killed no problem, he had explicit orders to do so if he turned on them, but... the emperor? If he shot him and killed him, he would lose all leverage as the archers took him out from outside his handgun's effective range, not to mention how outnumbered he was.

As Tyuule had noted, he had to run if he wanted to live.

Now.

The little voice in the back of his head came back then, whispering, almost smugly, the same damned phrase it had repeated ever since he deployed.

"You'll lose it all and gain nothing."

Inwardly, he wavered, a vulnerability being exploited as he was, for all intent and purposes, on his own. Without the radio, he couldn't contact his unit or anyone else. Ideally, he would have gathered Tyuule and run to a rendezvous point in the city, but that was out of the question. His best chance was to just bolt, leaving the girl to her fate and hoping the barbarian didn't kill her before he got help. No one would blame him for running.

Dennis Orville, at the end of the day, was no John Wayne.

"Don't you love me?!" came the almost childish scream as the man began to tightly grip the girl's neck.

Dennis didn't move.

His eyes staring at the image ahead without looking away.

He hated it.

There was so much in his mind, his hatred of everything around him at its core; sorrow, grief, fear, shame, anger, even a sense of superiority in knowing he didn't own slaves or torture people for fun, as if it automatically made him better, but with the emperor... The emperor who had happily committed genocide against an entire people, the man who had abused a young girl who had surrendered and begged for the lives of her people, the man who had promised a young girl her people would be spared and immediately betrayed that promise, the man who seemed unaffected by the murder of his own father, the man who embodied everything wrong with the self-proclaimed empire that attacked his country and the tactical situation they were in.

He hated him.

The memory of his mother's smile that evening only stung him further as his mind reminded him that he really didn't have anyone waiting for him back home.

His father was long gone.

He doubted the remainder of his family, wherever they were, even knew about him.

In the end, who was he?

Just one somewhat fluent interpreter who got lucky and odds were that by now, he was also easily replaceable.

His eyes darted to the girl's weak smile.

...maybe I can do one good thing...

Odds of surviving be damned.

The trigger on the M1911A1 was gently squeezed, as if he were trying to pick a flower or caress a girl's cheek, causing the hammer, already cocked by the previously exhausted magazine to slam forward into the firing pin, igniting the gunpowder inside the forty-five American Colt Pistol round and sending the two-hundred and thirty grain, lead bullet down the barrel at a speed of eight hundred feet per second with an angry, deafening...

-CRACK-

You don't have to go...

He had been aiming for the man's head, upper skull, behind the eyes, just above the ear. The distance was good, he knew the bullet would obediently follow the path he put it on, and given the proximity to Tyuule, Dennis decided not to risk aiming for the man's torso and risk hitting the girl he had grown to love.

I want to, Ma! I... I can't sit by and just watch, I want to be somewhere I can do something...

Dennis wanted the man dead.

He wanted the man who had hurt her so much to finally pay the ultimate price.

A quick and unceremonious public execution.

Then... maybe...

Give me a hand with the dishes, please.

Maybe he could save her...

Like most plans, it was doomed from the start.

In the mix of panic and instinct that allowed him to quickly fire off a shot, his aim had been off by exactly an inch.

Zorzal, despite his outward and internal fury, wasn't quite sure how to feel.

He had been so angry at Tyuule he was about to execute her right there and then, not thinking of anything else, not even bothering with a sword, and going for his bare hands.

He didn't need anything else and he knew it.

The girl was weak after so much time under him, and he knew all he had to do was squeeze just... a little... further...

He hated her weak smile and meek tears.

How dare she betray his trust?

How, after everything he did for her, after everything she had willingly done for him, did she suddenly turn and try to backstab him? The one time he wanted her by his side, she rebelled against him?

Potentially brainwashed or not, that was unacceptable!

In front of the entire capital, as well!

Yes, a quick death was fitting... he could always find more like her, certainly!

She wasn't resisting.

In fact, she even seemed to welcome it.

He didn't care.

He knew where all the surviving Warrior Bunnies lived.

He could replace her any time he wanted!

Oh, he hoped the enemy he would soon defeat had a similarly bold leader to conquer!

He conquered her!

He was the emperor!

He controlled the fate of the world!

None but him!

And if dying so miserably made her so happy then why shouldn't he send her to the afterlife?!

It was in the middle of this thought that Zorzal felt the strangest punch to the face he had ever experienced in his life. It knocked him aside, and he had to let go of Tyuule, less out of need and more out of an immediate mental necessity that urged him to grab hold of the side of his head where something had slammed into him, his mind not even registering the thunderclap despite being perfectly able to hear it.

As the girl shakily crumbled to the floor, he frowned.

For a brief moment, he thought the cowardly traitor Den had actually grown a pair and attacked him with his bare hands.

But... his face felt... odd now.

Not so much wet, but... fleshy?

And something was in his mouth.

He faltered briefly, almost falling over twice as he stumbled to the side.

He tasted... something...

His left hand moved to his cheek, confused as it was entirely on instinct.

Zorzal noted Tyuule was on her knees now, holding her neck, staring at the floor, catching her breath...

He then noticed his soldiers were frozen in place, staring at him, unblinking.

Cowards, what...?

He turned to face his soon-to-be-dead attacker and noticed the weapon Den had pointed at him had an almost imperceptible line of smoke snaking off its end... and that he hadn't moved from the edge of the stage.

Huh?

It was then that Zorzal became keenly aware of how wet his hand felt now.

He slowly opened his mouth to say something but found the task... awkward.

Then he felt the urge to spit.

Upon doing so he was shocked to see blood and teeth fall from his mouth to the floor and he was then keenly aware of another more horrifying fact.

As he made eye contact with the evil, traitorous, lying Den, Zorzal realized that there was a hole where his left cheek should be.

Blood dripped to the floor and unto his beautiful tunic and shining battle armor, Tyuule staring wide-eyed at the scene.

Physics could be a harsh mistress.

At that speed and proximity, the impact had sent a shockwave across his flesh and bones, not unlike a meteor impacting the earth, flesh burning and stretching, bones shattering as the bullet's speed was met with the hard obstacle of Zorzal's face, leaving him, effectively, with the left side of his jaw a craterous bleeding gaping secondary mouth of shattered teeth, saliva, and blood that he couldn't even close of his own volition.

Zorzal froze no longer sure what to do as his body suddenly realized that something was very, very wrong.

Everyone around him was in a similar state of disbelief, seeing the emperor bleeding after the crack of the American's weapon, it was as if everyone was too frozen to do anything. Some gasped at the grizzly wound when he turned to one end. Zorzal began to panic and go into what doctors on earth called "shock", his body freezing in place as he tried to say something, his mind, unable to process what was happening. His skin turned pale, his breathing accelerated, he began to stumble despite now standing still.

The entire area appeared frozen in time.

But it had only been one and a half seconds.

Dennis didn't really care as he charged forward, and scrambled to shield the white-haired girl from any further attacks.

A legionnaire reacted then, mirroring him as another followed, Dennis just barely reaching Tyuule and placing his free hand on her shoulder before another thunderous explosion rang out and the first soldier who had tried to prevent the American from getting close to the emperor fell to the floor as if he had tripped.

It only took the crowd one second to realize that explosion hadn't come from the soldier in front of them but the rooftops around them.

And then all hell broke loose.

Dumas Mountain Range

The BBC reporter stared at the camera with an almost bored expression despite the bizarre sight behind him.

Two UN Peacekeepers, rifles in hand were guarding several dozen disheveled-looking men, a now-dead forest behind them, some trees burnt, others simply withered away.

"Yes, behind me are the remnants of the guerilla army attacking American forces as they secured the lands between the trade city of Itálica and the Imperial Capital. Exact estimates are still not a given, but many speculate the dead aggressors to number in the thousands. As American forces continue their advance, Canadian and Irish Peacekeepers and observers have helped maintain a degree of order as the P-O-Ws await transfer to parts of the Empire under American control. Their defeat marks what many believe is the war's closing act, and that the war itself likely will be over before month's end, allowing scientists, explorers, and other researchers from other nations to finally commence proper and peaceful inquiries into this new world without the immediate threat of a hostile state. The scientific community has expressed great interest in certain minerals found north of the American base..."

Not too far from that, an American journalist was speaking to an officer as they walked over the now mostly empty machine-gun emplacements. The green combat uniform contrasting heavily with the journalist's more civilian khaki outfit, though it was at least a welcome sign that the areas surrounding them were being quickly pacified.

"One problem we discovered too late was that arrows could pierce through our sandbags, especially if shot directly at them. Usually, they came at an angle, so they just sort of got stuck there. When they charged and shot right at them... plowed through it like paper."

"Really?"

"Yes... here, some of these still have holes in them." the officer pointed to one section, the journalist taking a photograph.

"Caught some of our boys in the femoral artery... wasn't pretty. In fact, that's where those female-knights really came in handy."

The journalist nodded, then as if unsure, lifted her pencil inquisitively before speaking.

"There have been... rumors of the Army looking into some of these... warrior women and their... viability in modern combat."

The officer didn't react, saying "That's above my paygrade, so I can't exactly comment on whether there's any truth to it or not."

"But you do believe the women serving with your soldiers were effective."

"Well, certainly, against bows and arrows, swords and axes... but against a modern army like in Korea or Europe... bravery isn't very effective against machine-gun fire and artillery, just look over that field."

The man pointed behind him at the open field riddled with craters. Small patches of grass only just starting to grow back where the earth had been blasted and scorched.

Still, the young woman said "But... there have been notable cases of these... female warriors-"

"Not to interject, but I think you're conflating the Rose Knights with the..." the man cleared his throat, "Warrior Bunnies. Those girls, the ones I've met at least, could potentially have some unique capabilities that may be applicable in modern warfare, the same applying to many demi-humans."

"Do you believe regular women would be able to make as good a soldier as men?"

The Colonel blinked.

"Well, they clearly make competent enough reporters, do they not?" he asked with some visible disdain for the question.

Noting that, the reporter pushed on, asking "What is your stance on the status of demi-humans?"

"Well, that's-"

"Colonel!" someone called.

Oh, thank God, an interruption.

The man turned, glancing at the dark-skinned soldier.

"There's a situation unfolding, they're calling all officers to the TOC!"

The colonel nodded calmly, turned to the reporter, telling her "We'll continue this another time..."

"Alright, thank you, colonel." She said, clearly disappointed, but knowing better than to push her luck.

Imperial Capital

If Rhodes could appreciate one thing about ancient architects, it was that their homes were practical in their own way. Perhaps a testament to mankind's own pragmatism even in ancient times, but that was neither here nor there as he led his guys up several stone steps, finishing at the roof of a home.

They'd heard the gunshots.

Five shots, one followed by four after a brief pause.

That had put a wrench in their plans.

Originally, they wanted to check the status of the imperial army heading out of the city, perhaps confirm whether the VIP was alive or not, as that could be a sign of whether or not their men were alive as well.

To their horror, as they got up to the roof, they saw a beat-up Dennis Orville, standing over the corpse of a pig-like creature they could only assume was Bouro, pointing his M1911 at one Emperor Zorzal El Caesar.

If looks could kill...

Rhodes had immediately gotten on the radio with the Berets, the men quickly repositioning, but things happened too fast. Before anyone knew it, Tyuule had been given a blade, and the emperor had clearly ordered her to kill the young American. Instead, the white-haired girl whirled around and tried stabbing the man, an apparently fruitless endeavor as the emperor overpowered her, hitting her and then gripping her neck with intent to kill.

That was when Dennis fired a single round into the man's head, the bullet, from what they could see, not killing him, but causing him to release her.

There was a palpable stillness in the air.

Rhodes was quick to say "Alex, tell them the plan went out the window!"

He was about to give the order to engage, but to their surprise, it was the Beret Captain who ordered it.

"Shoot! Shoot! Don't let them get to him!" came the order, gunfire erupting from the street.

"Damn it! Engage! Cover him!" Rhodes shouted.

Sean had fired first, quickly adjusting his aim to take out one legionnaire that was trying to rally the troops, and now Rhodes joined him, seeing the situation was FUBAR.

From across the street, some Berets dropped several smoke grenades, adding to the chaos.

Bombing him outside the capital just went out the window...

Down on the stage, the panic was worse.

"Tyuule! Tyuule!" Dennis shouted, entirely on autopilot, less for emotional stability and more because pure survival had taken over as the battle began in earnest and ahead of schedule.

He squeezed her shoulder and she flinched but didn't move, as if glued to the spot, staring ahead.

She was alive, that much he knew, but if she didn't move they would both be dead. Tyuule weakly turned to him, confused as the gunfire reached a crescendo and a grenade went off. People screamed over the gunfire and officers shouted ever louder and more desperate orders, these legionnaires having zero experience with the firepower they were going up against.

Dennis glanced behind him, seeing the rooftops had Americans firing into the previously organized legions.

Oh, Thank God...

General Rufus fell first, one round grazing his neck before another stabbed into his chest, destroying the man's heart, killing him before he even hit the ground. The legionnaires were quick to begin making a wall of shields in an attempt at shielding their officers, but bullets not only traveled too fast for thin wood and iron shields to block but even if they didn't the amount of lead being spread in the area would be too much for them to effectively hold the street.

Zorzal wasn't hit by pure dumb luck as he slipped on his own blood.

"Emperor!" General Borhos managed to grab him, dragging him under the stage.

Tyuule watched the cowering emperor get dragged away, not blinking as she saw fear and childlike panic in the man's eyes, not necessarily unlike her own.

Dennis was too busy looking for a way out to care about the wounded Emperor.

He saw Rhodes making hand signals from a rooftop, pointing to a quickly emptying part of the crowded street that led to an alley.

Go!

He didn't need to be told twice.

He grabbed the girl's hand, yelling "Come on!"

He stood up, the girl only staring blankly ahead, still on her knees, not even blinking as a bullet tore into a Centurion, knocking the dead man into another soldier.

"Come on!" he shouted in as firm a tone as he could bring over the chaos pulling her by her arm now.

She shakily stood up, Dennis pulling her away from the scene as she began to run with him.

Seeing the pair escape, Rhodes immediately got on the radio, shouting "What's the plan here, Larry?!"

The Beret captain was quick to say "We fall back! If the guy's commanders are smart, so will they! Secure the VIP, alert the higher-ups, exfil!"

"It's gonna be a little awkward, don't you think?!"

"It's fine! We blend in with the chaos of the crowd and- on the right!"

Rhodes thought he heard the man curse, but was too distracted by an arrow landing nearby, followed by several others just as the gunfire from the Berets below increased.

The radio spat back, "Use your smoke grenades and get out of here! We're moving now!"

Rhodes glanced down the street, seeing smoke begin to cover the very quickly organizing legionnaires.

Sean fired again, yelling "Captain?!"

"Alright... you have smoke grenades?!"

Alex said "Right here!" as another arrow slammed into the building's stone edge, taking off a chunk not entirely unlike a bullet would.

"Right... throw these at them... on three... one... two... three!"

Screams erupted as the white phosphorus began to spread through the street.

…

His tent was, for all intents and purposes, a miniature palace. Well-lit by large torches, his best praetorians surrounding it, and a small throne all to himself. It was, without question, a symbol of the Empire's wealth. He calmly walked around the large tent, thinking things over as he sipped some fine wine from his golden goblet, considering the week's events as the night dragged on.

The campaign was going... fine.

It was fine, really, but... the casualties were concerning and it wasn't the lightning-quick conquest he'd wanted.

"I thought Bouro said they'd be more disorganized, but that last engagement was anything but..." he muttered aloud, glancing at the half-full goblet in his hand.

As one of his officers was about to reply, the tent flap was thrown open and a praetorian entered, kneeling quickly.

Zorzal frowned.

"What is it?"

The man only replied with "The Queen of the Warrior Tribes is here... she wishes to negotiate."

Zorzal blinked.

Then, he smirked, slowly moving to the small throne at the center of the tent.

"Bring her in, then!"

The praetorian stepped aside and in walked two legionnaires, forcing the white-haired girl forward before shoving her into the tent's floor.

Zorzal grinned.

The girl was beautiful, a fine specimen of the Warrior Bunnies, certainly, but more than that, one of pure, royal blood.

Oh, he could use her for many things.

The girl shakily pressed her forehead to the floor.

He could hear her uneven breaths.

Zorzal said, "Well, come now, show me your face!"

She slowly looked up, revealing more than pleasing facial features of untouched youthful beauty.

Zorzal looked her over, noting her clothing, overall simple in design, but certainly that of royalty for the tribes.

He said, "So... you come here to surrender?"

The young girl didn't break eye contact, saying "I... I come to negotiate for my people's lives."

And again, she prostrated herself, removing a sheathed dagger from her person and offering it up.

"Your people's lives?" Zorzal laughed. "General Rufus! How many of our soldiers have been killed in combat with the rabbits?"

The officer said "Seven hundred and seventy-seven, your highness. That's the confirmed numbers, of course."

"Ah, almost eight hundred good men... good men your people killed."

The young queen quickly said "Over a thousand of my people have died as well... mostly non-combatants! Please, I... I wish to end this bloodshed. If you want slaves, I'm willing to give myself up and-"

"Strip her..." Zorzal ordered suddenly.

Before she could react two praetorians ripped her clothes away, tearing the fabric where it resisted, forcing the girl to stand up.

She remained there, frozen, unblinking, a distraught cry escaping her.

Zorzal looked her over, appearing bored that she was no longer speaking.

He saw her shakily say "I-I offer... m-myself for-"

He sighed, saying "Understand this, little one, your people's lives are barely worth more than a common slave. Your worth comes in your physical strength, so slave labor is the best they can hope for."

The young queen, mouth quivering, said "I-I don't want that for my people... please, I beg of you to show mercy... the children have suffered-"

"The children?! They're not even worth the effort as slaves, why should we-?"

Falling to her knees and kneeling yet again, she cried out "I beg you to please, please, show the mercy of the great Empire to your subjects!"

Zorzal paused.

The girl shakily said "I'll do anything, please... please spare my people... we'll be your subjects, we'll pay your taxes, you can have our plains, we will follow your laws, I will personally be your slave if it means they will be spared, but I beg you... please, spare them!"

Zorzal stared at her.

"Stand up." He said after a moment.

The white-haired girl shakily did so, sorrowful tears streaming down her face.

There was an uneasy moment of silence.

He looked at her figure, her shaking form, her crying face.

Zorzal smiled.

Standing up from his makeshift throne, Zorzal approached her, saying "You know, my Empire has a long history of dealing with barbaric tribes. Usually showing mercy is a foolish act."

He placed a hand on her chest.

He whispered, "But then again, I doubt there are even ten thousand of you left to mount much of a rebellion, no?"

The girl whimpered something akin to a response, but Zorzal ignored her.

The fear, the vulnerability, the sheer emotion of realizing she had no way to win.

That he would cherish forever.

"Alright, little one... I accept your proposal. Your freedom, for your people's lives."

The white-haired girl's eyes briefly shone with hope.

Zorzal was happy to extinguish it by saying "You'll belong to me now... you will do everything I tell you, no questions, no objections, and certainly no insubordination. Understand?"

Before she could say anything he gripped her neck, pulling her closer to him beyond the girl's comfort, saying "Of course you understand..."

He had relished seeing her hope vanish that first night.

He had relished her more than any other achievement in his life, really. She was, in a way, his first real conquest. She grew to fear him and what he could do, as well she should, something few in his family had ever truly realized. He was, after all, the rightful heir to the Empire, and he would be as ruthless as he needed to be to protect that. He had been so certain she had fallen in love with him after those three years. She was his favorite slave, she never objected to his requests, no matter how uncomfortable she appeared. He partially thought his actions had been enough to make her believe she was in love with him.

Had he failed?

As she nearly pierced him with his own blade, a part of him realized that she had been far more capable of hiding her contempt than he had given her credit for.

Zorzal's eyes slowly drifted open, his mind all too aware of the chaos around him.

"Don't bother chasing them! Just drive them off!" General Borhos shouted as loud as he could, an officer echoing his command. The young general hid behind the mobile platform, the thunderous enemy weapons continuing to chatter away as the remaining generals convened.

He also realized just how uncomfortable he was despite the magic working on healing his injury.

Borhos glanced at the healers quickly trying to work on Zorzal, the emperor awakening as the healers stopped the bleeding.

General Woody shakily ducked next to him, saying "I knew we were being fooled! I knew it!"

Borhos said "It makes little difference now! We have to take his majesty back to the palace... if the enemy is remotely civilized, they'll send someone and we can negotiate a-"

A bloodcurdling scream erupted from the young emperor next to them.

The man slammed his right arm into one of the healers, knocking the old man aside before sitting up, pointing at Borhos as he screamed, barely understandable due to the wound on his face, what little healing having quickly been made null and void by his loud objections, "You will not fall back! You will not take me back to the palace! And you most certainly will not wait for the enemy to send someone to negotiate!"

"E-emperor, You've been hurt and-"

Zorzal slapped the other healer's hand away, angrily saying "A scar worthy of my name! A reminder of how dangerous these cowards are! Gather the men, these cowards will flee soon... then we will surround them and slaughter them!"

The noise of the enemy weapons began to die down then.

"Emperor, that man wasn't lying. They hit us much harder than we could have ever anticipated. Their weapons far outclass our own and-" Woody tried.

"Not in close quarters, and in this city, there is nothing but close quarters... especially near the exits!" Zorzal concluded, spitting out some more blood.

Borhos considered it.

Perhaps it was a viable strategy, but...

"Emperor, we don't know enough to decide whether an attack is possible now. If the rabbit was lying-"

"She wasn't lying, the information she passed along came straight from the Haryo tribe... that foolish bunny was just... brainwashed is all... no other reason... the enemy is on the run and desperate. That's why that brat, that... traitor... did this."

No one spoke as the explosions from the enemy weapons died down and low whimpers and pained cries replaced it.

Zorzal said "Well, come now... get me some bandages... I intend to ride with you, Borhos, dirt on my face or not. Gather what men you can... Woody, I give you half of the army, I want you to guard the city entrances and exits. The enemy is likely heading to the red-light district... you'll surround them and prevent their escape, Borhos and I will crush them within the Red-Light District."

"We don't even know if they're in the Red Light-"

"Where else would they be?! I bet these men were left behind by their cowardly armies! I bet they were hoping to get some leverage to escape! I bet that... bastard... only took Tyuule as leverage... yes... yes, that has to be it! Borhos! Woody! Get to it!"

Borhos frowned.

If the enemy was a skeleton crew of abandoned stragglers, then why attack?

"Emperor, I must object."

"Borhos, please don't make me execute you for insubordination right now. I have a terrible headache, can't you see?" came the dark reply.

"Emperor, our weapons aren't ranged like-"

"Then gather what crossbows and arrows you can! After that attack, I'm sure there are plenty of crossbows available! We'll come up with something, now go!"

"Emperor-"

Zorzal didn't let him finish.

Calmly walking over, he grabbed the blade from General Woody's sheath, then grabbed Borhos by the neck.

"Are you afraid of doing your duty, general?"

General Borhos didn't react, only shaking his head.

"Respond!"

"No... Emperor."

Zorzal smiled, blood continuing to drip from his wound, and Borhos couldn't help but realize the man's left eye was now bloodshot as well.

Zorzal said "Good. Get to it, and you!"

He pointed to the nervous healers.

"Come on, get on with stopping this bleeding. It's hardly appropriate for the emperor to march into victory with a wound this ugly, is it not?"

Itálica

Pina observed as Lady happily clapped along with The Thierry's young daughter to the music coming from a small box the Americans called a "music box".

An unimaginative name, but she didn't really care much about that there and then.

The war was almost over, and if things went to plan, no one else had to die.

The senators she had brought along with her that fateful night sat around the table, looking over the parchments.

"We've organized the old order of laws into a more concise form. This would make responses more flexible, and easier to follow." the older one said.

Diabo walked around, arm on a sling as he looked it over.

"Good... this is good. The plebians will be appeased because now the taxpayers can't bother them with loopholes, but it preserves our positions."

"It also gives the Americans what they want... no more slaves, but we can work out possible revisions if this hits us too hard."

Diabo shuddered, saying "I'd rather we just accept whatever they want and thank the gods they aren't trying to destroy us all."

Pina said, "I believe their president is willing to assist us so our country doesn't disintegrate, I think it's more beneficial to keep us as an existing power than for us to simply be splintered into a thousand pieces... we can begin to recover with little territorial loss."

Diabo sat down, nodding.

"We'll force this through the senate once it's all over. Frankly, after so many losses, I think we're all rather accepting of whatever will bring peace."

Pina nodded solemnly.

"This still isn't the most destructive war in our long history, princess... I believe we can recover from this with relative ease."

She smiled softly.

"I'm going to check on Bozes... thank you all for your help."

She ignored Lady's glance of disapproval and slowly walked out of the room of the Formal Mansion.

She didn't have to walk far, getting to the bedroom guarded by Hamilton and Norma in a moment.

"How is she?"

Norma said "Recovering, still. She's better today."

Pina nodded.

Many of her Rose Knights had been injured, some badly.

She was only grateful none had been too awfully wounded that they'd been killed, a luxury the Americans didn't see as their men weren't as armored or protected.

Pina heard footsteps approaching behind her, turning to see Gray, the older man looking somewhat nervous as he walked over to her.

"Highness, there's a situation developing in the capital... it's not good."

Pina felt her heart drop at his tone, immediately saying, in as calm a voice as she could muster, "Alright, thank you, Gray... I'll... tend to it."

The walk to the American command center was a blur, the maids and guards noticing her gave her odd looks as she walked past them, heart pounding.

Every time it had been disastrous news.

Her father wanting to enforce a terrible scorched earth policy.

Her eldest brother wanting to assassinate her father.

The Americans seeing little choice but to allow the assassination to go through.

A part of her desperately wished it was good news for once.

Perhaps Zorzal had come to his senses.

Perhaps the white-haired girl had pushed him in the right direction and he was now willing to end the war properly.

Maybe Gray had just been jesting when he said "it's not good"!

She knew there was no chance of that.

To prevent him from carrying out a similar campaign to his father, the young emperor had been lulled into a false sense of security, meaning he wouldn't be about to surrender unless he saw direct evidence of his defeat... in theory.

Zorzal never was one to give up.

She got to the command center and heard a single phrase being uttered over and over again.

"Operation Vengeance."

She glanced at the nearest translator.

The young man was pale as he shifted in place, saying "The Haryo Tribe betrayed us... it seems they sold us out... from what we can understand, the emperor tried to kill both Tyuule and one of our men, so... there's a fight going on inside the capital right now."

Pina stared at him without blinking for a moment.

"A-ah..." she finally managed, the shock still going through her.

"We're trying to decide on whether to bomb the capital now and force him to surrender, or to look for some other option."

Now Pina had to put her foot down.

"No! We cannot bomb the capital! It's the most populated center in this continent, it's the capital- the reason we allowed... my father's assassination was to save the capital, we cannot bomb it now!"

An officer that must have understood her objection said "We know that! But if Zorzal doesn't cooperate..."

The man grimaced and looked away, glaring at the radio as reports from the Rangers and Berets in the capital flooded in alongside questions from Alnus.

The interpreter was quick to say "We can't... rather, we want to avoid a situation of urban combat. When we pushed your army back that day, many took several buildings and fought on. We have pictures of your capital, we know how big it is and how difficult it would be for our men to fight in there... it would be a complete bloodbath, and we can't afford that."

Pina wanted to slam her fist through a table as she stumbled back at the words.

"There has to be something I can do... please, tell me what I can do to stop this!"

The translator only glanced at the officers.

The one who seemed to be half-listening to her said something she didn't understand.

The interpreter turned to her and said "You would have to find a way to force Zorzal to surrender. From the looks of it, he isn't right now, so killing him might be the only way."

"Can... can't your men lure him somewhere to kill him?"

"He was injured when the first shots were fired, I doubt-"

"Is Tyuule alive?!" she asked suddenly.

The interpreter winced but turned to ask the officers.

The man turned to her after a moment and said "It seems so. One of Captain Rhode's Rangers was able to get her away from Zorzal when the fighting-"

"Then Zorzal is going to go after her!"

"Princess-"

"You don't understand my brother as I do... that man... he sees her as a spoil of his conquest... he forced the senate to put her family's armor on display for crying out loud! If one of your men took her away from him, he is going to chase him down not just to take her back but to try to put them both through a fitting punishment. And if your disinformation campaign worked, he should still believe he has the upper hand! They can lure him away from the city-"

"That's conjecture."

"Is it not worth trying to if it means saving lives?"

"Princess, even if he was chasing after them..."

"Hold it..." the officer said.

The translator turned to him.

He said, "Princess says Zorzal will chase after Tyuule? Is she confident about that?"

Turn.

Translate.

Pina responded by nodding.

The American officer bit his tongue, an idea forming.

Turning to another officer, he asked "How evacuated is the Red-Light District?"

Imperial Capital

Rhodes pushed through the crowded streets, the fleeing civilians around them ignoring the Americans, yelling on the radio "No, I don't see them continuing their original plan, everything is going to hell over here!"

"Halt!" A particularly brave legionnaire saw them and tried to charge at them.

"Don't!" Sean tried.

The man ignored him and unsheathed a sharp blade, shoving people aside as he ran at them.

"I said- Damn it!"

Sean carefully aimed before firing the M1903A4 into the man's chest before he closed the distance, the old rifle still proving to be effective at killing. The crowd panicking and moving away from the street. Some jumping into open windows, others fleeing into alleys, suddenly leaving the Rangers alone in the street with the dead body and the distant sound of legions organizing.

Rhodes, doing his best to ignore it, spoke into the radio "Yes, we're heading to our hideout... what?"

He paused; eyes widened.

"Understood." He replied as the street emptied, his face twisting as if someone had dropped heavyweights on his shoulders.

"Captain?"

"Princess Pina is asking us to try and... lead Zorzal into the Red-Light district if possible..."

"What?!" Sean and Alex both erupted.

"Orders are orders, now move! We have to gather what we can! We may even have our job cut out for us if those guys are shouting marching orders... Sean?"

Sean quickly glanced behind him, uncertain, saying "They're definitely giving orders in the emperor's name... can't really tell what."

"Don't matter... we have to move anyway. Berets are already heading to our hideout."

"Good... what about Orville?"

...

He'd run with enough energy to complete the Ranger course ten times over, the girl behind him just managing to keep up as they made it to the alleyway that led into the Red-Light District that Dennis had used most often.

It was then, and only then, that Dennis paused for breath, both for himself and the girl behind him. He looked around, noting the street around them was empty of merchants and civilians and sucked in a deep breath. His hand still gripped Tyuule's, which he promptly let go to check on her, too aware of his remaining ammunition should they be ambushed.

7 rounds left...

Looking her over, he managed to say "You hurt anywhere else?"

He noticed the bruise on her head and the still bleeding cut on her arm, angry at himself for not having anything to treat her with.

She stared at him, her eyes bearing into his own as if a dam was about to burst.

"Why?" she finally asked in English.

"What?"

"Why!?" she yelled now.

"Why what?!" Dennis yelled back, seeing the hurt in her eyes and wanting to help but his mind knowing they were in a combat situation and that it was not the time to be having an emotional breakdown.

"I told you to run! I said run! You were supposed to run!" she cried out, her voice cracking.

"And leave you to die?!" he responded, outraged.

"Yes! You should never have risked yourself for me! No one should! I... I told you that... that..." her voice cracked, angry at herself, at the world, at the monsters in it...

I should have died! I was supposed to die! It's only fitting for someone like me!

Dennis ground his teeth and glared at the street around them to regain some control before speaking.

"What? That... that you're supposed to die? That it's what you deserve?! Do you think for a second I would be okay with that?!" He felt his jaw clench as he took an angry breath, glared back at her with equal intensity, and spoke in quiet anger, "I told you since day one my mission is- Forget my mission! Do you think for a second, I would be okay with you dying?! Huh?! After everything I told you-"

He stopped.

He looked at her, but despite his best efforts, his mind pushed her image aside, reminding him of other, far uglier things as the girl tearfully glared at him.

"Oh... God..." his voice cracked as he almost lost track of himself, the intrusive thoughts pouncing on the vulnerability of the moment.

The distant gunfire...

The smell of smoke...

The image of Zorzal's bloody face wound...

The screams of people dying...

Not now! Please, God, not now!

Against his will, he took a step back and used the nearby wall for support, his left hand coming to his forehead. The little voice in the back of his mind returning to torment him further.

You'll lose it all and gain nothing.

The words echoed endlessly in his mind, a torturous chorus that he could not silence.

He couldn't afford to make mistakes and yet here he was, about to have an emotional breakdown himself in the middle of a warzone, the possibility of losing the one person he didn't want to lose too much for his tired mind. As if it simply had enough and didn't want to accept reality anymore.

His mother dying while he was training, yeah, he could understand that.

The madness of combat, he could understand, he'd prepared for that.

The isolation, the feeling of complete separation from everyone and everything, the fact that he was, for all intents and purposes alone, nothing but a tool to be used and discarded because he had no one to return to and his only purpose now was to serve his nation, something that had almost gotten him and what few friends he had killed...

It was too much.

"Please... I don't want to lose you..." he quietly managed in English, his voice shaking, barely keeping it together, sucking in a breath as a pained expression manifested on his face as he looked away from her.

Tyuule stared at him, petrified at the words.

"Lose... me? No, you... you... you shouldn't... I'm not-"

Her ear twitched and she slowly turned to look behind her, recognizing the sounds in the distance from long ago, a chill going through her.

She felt a familiar dread deep within her begin to manifest.

"They're organizing quickly... Zorzal is alive and as long as he breathes, I can't-"

"Zorzal will be dead by day's end, that much I promise!"

"You can't promise that!"

"Yes, I can! Tyuule..." his voice trailed off, never looking at her, staring at the ground.

Dennis could see his dusty feet and now very worn sandals contrasting terribly with the well cared for M1911 in his hand, the soft breeze blowing more particles of dust onto him.

The modern and ancient did not go well together for the most part.

I don't belong here... I don't want to belong here... but I don't want to leave her.

"...please-" he said, reaching for her.

She recoiled back, like a wounded animal.

"Orville, I'm not worth-" she tried again, but he didn't let her finish.

"You are to me!" the eighteen-year-old cried out.

She looked at his eyes and felt her heart skip a beat.

There was a degree of desperation in them, but not the kind she had seen before. It was more akin to a man struggling not to let go of something he had no grip on. Like trying desperately to hold on to sand as it slipped through one's fingers.

He had no control over what she would choose, only pleading she stay with him.

It was her decision at the end of the day.

"You helped me then... Please... help me again..." he finally said, reaching for her.

She turned to look behind her for a moment. A part of her still refusing to believe she deserved redemption, that his cries were genuine, and if they were, she doubted there was any salvation for her even then. Even if she went with him, even if he got her out... then what? Sign some papers, ensure her people's future was guaranteed, and then kill herself like a good little coward?

Oh, right... there's something he wants to tell me.

She asked herself if it would be enough for a moment, listening to the chaos in the distance.

Would it soothe her unease?

Would it help her at all?

She had no way of knowing, but at the same time, she knew very well that killing Zorzal wouldn't make her feel any better. As smoke rose behind her, she knew she'd practically destroyed the empire already and all she felt was a painful emptiness.

She'd all but succeeded.

Yet she felt no better.

Her family was still dead.

Her people still hated her.

She'd known she'd have nothing to look forward to after destroying the empire from the beginning, and yet...

It's so... empty...

Though she wondered if killing Zorzal with her own hands would make her feel better, her mind going back to the scene from moments prior where he had been bleeding and writhing miserably on the floor, and for a moment she wondered if that would be satisfactory. Remembering how she'd briefly felt better thinking she'd done one good thing, only to have those feelings ripped away as the person she tried to save chose to stay and try to save her, perhaps taking away any chance of redemption.

For a moment, she considered going back, hoping that killing Zorzal would make her feel better.

But only a moment.

Without saying another word, she turned to face him.

She took his hand.

Dennis winced at the contact but didn't ask questions, only squeezing her hand to ensure he wasn't imagining it.

The fact his eyes regained some light by her decision struck her deeper than she expected.

Did he truly care that much about her?

No... no way... this is... it's just his duty is all! Stop thinking there's anything else! You don't deserve anything else!

After so much abuse and betrayal, the fallen queen couldn't bring herself to even consider the possibility that the American was interested in her in some way that didn't involve a degree of practicality, and yet...

Dennis noticed the tears in her eyes begin to trail down before he moved and wiped them away, stopping as his left hand was holding both her hands, and his right hand was on his M1911, so he pulled her closer instead, letting her dry her eyes on his shoulders for a moment, knowing he didn't have time to waste, restraining himself from doing anything more than ensuring she was close enough he could protect her, and quickly locking his emotions away.

Perhaps in a Hollywood production, this would be where they kissed, but as Dennis saw in the aftermath of Itálica, battles didn't care for the feelings of loved ones.

And he'd already wasted too much time.

"Stay with me, please..." he whispered, an unreadable tone in his voice so she couldn't tell if it was closer to a military command or a plea from someone afraid of losing her forever.

Stay with you during this escape or...?

"Alright..." she replied quietly, squeezing his hand a little tighter.

Dennis nodded and led her away from the approaching enemy, steadying himself from the experience, wiping his eyes with his right arm, allowing the soldier to take over again and the scared little boy who had lost his father and mother go back into the dark corners of his mind where he could continue to cower without bothering anyone.

He still had a bloody job to do, and he needed her out of harm's way before he could do it properly.

The time for tears would come later.

Not yet...

They moved quickly down the alley and streets they knew, getting to the hideout with ease, only to bump into two Green Berets who were rushing past them carrying a crate.

One of the Berets wordlessly nodded to Orville before pushing past him.

"What...?"

Rhodes dashed past them then, saying "Move it, Orville, we're going to need every guy we have!"

Dennis stared, confused as Alexander and Sean ran past him then, both looking worried.

Still holding her hand, he followed after them, Tyuule following in step, albeit shrinking behind him, not looking anyone in the eye.

"Doc!" Dennis called as he entered the building.

The man was, to his surprise, smoking two cigarettes at once, going over his medical supply.

Without looking at them, "Doc" only pointed to a wooden chair, saying "Sit her there, I'll patch her up, you head up and get settled..."

"You got something to cover her with?" Dennis spoke rapidly/

Understanding what the 18-year-old meant, he grabbed a spare combat jacket and handed it to the white-haired girl.

Dennis didn't bother asking questions, turning to Tyuule, saying "He'll patch you up, and you can put that on after... stay here, okay?"

She nodded slowly as he left her there and rushed upstairs.

Rhodes was grabbing magazines for his M16 when Dennis walked in.

"Your stuff's over there, get ready."

"Yes, captain!" he said, again, not asking questions.

"Now, I have to ask you some questions real quick, cause things have gone to hell and we're practically improvising everything at the moment."

"Understood."

"Good. What the hell happened back there?" Rhodes asked patiently, moving over to the radio.

Dennis replied quickly, almost mechanically.

"The Haryo turned on us. Stalker 1 is K-I-A, Goldwater was wounded in the attack, radios got busted by the Haryo. Palace staff promised to help him and he ordered me to try and reach Tyuule and eliminate Bouro."

Rhodes nodded, then quietly, as Dennis threw on an undershirt, said "There are going to be some questions, later... keep what you told me in mind, alright?"

Dennis swallowed but nodded in understanding.

Excuses could be made later, but they had to get out of there first.

Finally, out of his tunic and back wearing the not exactly comfortable but certainly better than nothing Army greens, he was kept listening as Rhodes spoke over the radio.

The door slammed open and the Green Beret captain marched in.

"They're moving here, alright. A lot of them."

"Damn it all..."

"Bright side is the claymores can be put up quick enough and we have enough chokepoints their numbers won't matter."

"They could try and go through the houses."

"Eventually, sure... but this isn't Stalingrad. In fact, it's better than that... we're on the defensive here, and we have the mobility and firepower to take them out even if they throw a thousand men at our lines."

Rhodes didn't argue, staring at the map.

"There's only fifty of us, spread out."

"Forty-eight, but we have radios. They don't. And all we have to do is withstand their assault for an hour or two at worst."

Then, turning to Dennis, he asked "Where are Goldwater and Clark?"

"Wounded and dead respectively, sir. Goldwater is being tended by the Palace Staff." came the near-mechanical reply.

The Green Beret didn't appear to react, studying the young Ranger.

He glanced at the radio behind them, nodded, saying "I'd go fetch them myself, but... can't afford it right now..."

Rhodes said "Sounds to me like the 7th is going to drop by... we'll get him out, captain."

The Beret only nodded, gripping the M2 carbine and saying "Ready your men."

Dennis stared ahead, Rhodes handing him the M16.

"You alright?"

"Yes, captain!" he said, grabbing the rifle, saying nothing more.

…

Misery smoked her opium pipe, staring at the rising smoke in the distance.

"Hey!"

She turned, noticing the young American named "Sean" sling his strange weapon on his back as he called to her.

"Misery!" he shouted again, desperate now.

She sighed, standing from her spot on a shattered building, hopping down to the street below, landing gracefully enough.

"What is it?" she asked with a sigh.

Sean looked at her and quickly said "How many people are left in the Red-Light district?"

"Twenty-seven... mostly shopkeepers living on the outskirts. Why?"

"Because they need to leave. Immediately. You too. This place... we're going to destroy it."

Her eyes widened slightly.

"You're... your people... they're going to destroy the capital?"

He looked unsure as he said "That's not the plan... but we're going to bomb this area once the Imperial Army gets here. We're going to lure them in as best we can, then once our aircraft get here, we'll use their cover to escape... and then we'll bomb them just like we did to the Basara gang."

She blinked.

She looked around.

Old stone homes with rotting doors stood silently in the noisy chaos around them.

She said, "This has been my home all my life... where will I go after?"

Sean glanced behind him, quickly saying "Alnus... get one of the merchants to take you there and I'll meet you."

She huffed, saying "You'll meet me?"

"Yeah. I can help you find a job."

She chortled at the prospect, pinching his cheek like she would any other child.

"You men are children... so naïve... so caring... thinking you can save everyone..."

Sean was about to say something, but knowing they had little time, she said "I'll go inform them... they'll listen."

Before she walked past him, he said "When you get to Alnus... there should be a place with a red cross. Ask for it, tell them I sent you there. That's where I'll see you."

She forced a fake smile, saying "I shall... and you may try... good luck."

She didn't hold out much hope in seeing the American again. Friendly as he was, the world she knew would eat him alive. Frankly, if it wasn't for their weapons, they'd all be dead.

Could they change the world?

Maybe.

But by now she knew better than to get her hopes up.

All she knew how to do was survive by any means necessary, sometimes doing good, other times not so much.

As she moved to alert the merchants that were left of the importance of evacuating, the sound of marching legions organizing in the distance ever-present, she couldn't help but wonder if she would see the American again.

Alnus

"Operation Vengeance is a go! Saddle up, ladies!" the Air Force officer shouted as he grabbed his flight jacket.

No other commands were necessary as men hopped to their feet from sitting in beach chairs reading People and other assortments of magazines. Similar orders were being passed along other air wings of the American military presence on the base.

One part of American doctrine that had been developed since the Second World War was that of "Air Power". It wasn't an entirely defined term despite having been a part of military campaigns for almost fifty years by 1964, but one that most branches could agree was vital to achieving total victory over the enemy, as seen, primarily, in World War 2.

Or so it was thought.

Regardless of the reality of aerial bombing runs, the American military had invested heavily in its Air Force capability to deliver bombs to the battlefield and obliterate the enemy, ideally, with little risk to the troops.

Therefore, the American military had prepared many strategic air offensives in regards to waging war.

No more would armies simply engage on the ground.

Ideally, one army would defend an area from attackers just long enough for the Air Force to arrive and drop what bombs were necessary to neutralize the enemy force. Ideally, the Air Force would fly into enemy territory and bomb enemy installations and industrial centers with all the destructive weapons they could carry.

From hundred-pound bombs to nuclear ordinance, the idea now involved creating aircraft fast enough to deliver such ordinance and leave the area before the enemy could respond. Rinse and repeat as long as necessary until the enemy simply couldn't fight anymore.

It worked against Japan, had it not?

Bombs were loaded onto the Phantoms and F-105s.

Their engines roared to life then.

But out in the hangar, just beginning to finish its final checkups was the real pride and joy of the United States Air Force and ultimately the North Atlantic Treaty Organization.

She was a vital part of Strategic Air Command's "deterrent" policy against the Soviet Union.

Her wingspan was well over 56 meters.

She cost well over six million dollars to make, and despite the threat of Surface to Air Missiles arguably making her obsolete due to her titanic size, she was still considered worth the cost.

As her engines began to roar to life, eyes turned to see her roll out onto the runway as a message was sent through the airwaves.

"All aircraft, be advised, we are exclusively targeting a section on the eastern side of the capital. The place that got hit on the 11th of April, but this time we're leveling it to the ground. Things go as planned; we'll take most of the Imperial Army as well."

The reminder was vital.

The original plan had always been to bomb the entire capital to dust if the enemy didn't surrender, and they very much would have gone along with it had that red-headed princess not intervened. After all, why shouldn't they? The Empire had invaded them and explicitly targeted civilians and non-combatants, the scorched earth policy that had been ordered by the previous Emperor was little different, killing many civilians before being promptly stopped by the advancing American military. Clearly, this empire didn't value its people, so why should they be spared?

But that plan was now off the table.

The second plan after talks opened up was to scramble the aircraft when Emperor Zorzal was expected to make contact with an American force, assuming he refused to surrender, the Air Force would arrive and drop what bombs were necessary to neutralize the enemy force, taking as many hostile forces as possible out and avoiding a repeat of what had been happening with the guerillas founded by Molt.

But now...

"Weasel One cleared for takeoff."

Italica

Shaun wanted desperately not to vomit, but the stress and indigestion were already making the task seem herculean at best. As the princes led her troop of armor-clad girls onto a Chinook, all he could do was hold his breath as the sound of helicopter blades swinging, engines screaming to life, and the smell of fuel filled his nostrils...

We only just had breakfast, come on!

The day was not supposed to go down this way at all, hell the 7th wasn't supposed to be up in the air until the afternoon!

I know no plan survives contact with the enemy but cut us some slack...

His Colonel marched past him then, several men around him including a pair of UN observers from Canada and Ireland he'd heard about.

"You men sure about this? It may turn into tough goings if the bomb run doesn't push them to surrender."

One of them, the Irish one loudly said "I'm certain the Russian and American leaderships will appreciate our accounts at the UN. Less heat off everyone's backs. 'Course, that's assuming you boys don't break the Geneva Convention!"

Shaun tried to overhear more, but couldn't.

Behind him, one of the guys from the 7th said "How bad do you think it's going to be?"

Shaun only said "If it's anything like Dallas? We're better off bombing it. My old man told stories of Manila. If these Romans are anything like the Japs... I don't want to think about fighting house to house."

Glancing at the princess, he then said, with a hint of hope, "Not that she's going to let that happen..."

"Think the people will accept her?"

Before he could reply, Pina suddenly rushed over to them.

"You! You understand me, yes?" she said in the local tongue.

Shaun sighed quietly, then said, "Yes, Ma'am!"

"Then I'll go with you! I'm not sure I can make myself clear right now, so..."

"Alright, princess." Sean sighed.

A young captain walked over, glanced at Pina, glanced at his interpreter, put two and two together, and marched ahead before shouting "Alright, boys, stick to your units and do not engage unless engaged! We're going into a possible hot zone, so be ready for a fight but stick to the R-O-E. You're all tired after last week, I know... but if we do this right, we may end this insane war in one fell swoop!"

It wasn't much of a motivational speech.

No one was really in the mood for that well into the conflict's second month.

Not after their men got so chewed up so recently.

But they weren't getting paid to mope around.

Orders were given, guns were loaded, engines roared to life.

After a final checkup, the 7th Air Cavalry was up in the air, joining the mad dash of American forces to reach the capital.

Imperial Capital

"Location?"

Pressing the nineteenth round into the magazine, Dennis heard Alex on the radio, and he quickly said "They'd stopped on the outskirts of the district. Captain Thorne says they're moving as we expected."

Alex shook his head.

"There's well over a thousand of them... if they charge our lines all at once... Stalker three, say again, please?"

Dennis did his best to ignore the worries as he placed the full magazines into his pockets. He walked down the steps, finding Doc wrapping Tyuule's arm in white gauze, the girl turning to him, worried.

He quickly asked, "How is she?"

"Hmm? She'll be fine... just... there." the man said, cutting the bandages and standing up. He paused to look at the kid, as if wanting to say something, but hearing the commotion above chose against it.

"I'll, uh... give you two a minute..." he said, tipping his helmet like a hat.

Tyuule's face turned red again, though her worried expression didn't change.

Dennis sat down next to her, facing the building's stone wall.

She spoke first.

"So... that's how you usually look like?"

Dennis only nodded.

She looked at him, remembering her earlier assessment.

...Fragile...

He ignored her worried expression, focusing on the sound of soldiers readying for combat, passing grenades and ammunition around with a quiet urgency.

"Look... We're going to lure them here. Evac helicopters will arrive in one hour... army won't be far behind... odds are the aircraft will get here quickly, too."

She looked at him, expecting him to say something dramatic.

Perhaps "Hey, I may not come back, so here's what I wanted to tell you..." or perhaps "don't get your hopes up about me, my interests in you are purely platonic" or ANYTHING to help her unease.

Instead, he said "So, we'll be back before that. We're quicker, we can run faster and we have better weapons."

"What if you get hurt?"

"We have good medicine."

"That's not what I-"

He raised a hand, interrupting her.

"I know, I know... I promise I'll come back. Won't leave you alone after all of this. Then... when we're safe..."

She perked up ever so slightly.

"You'll tell me then? You promise?"

"Promise."

She looked at him with a hurt expression but nodded.

"You boys set to go?" Rhodes asked.

"Hoo-ah!" came the near-universal reply.

Tyuule only gazed at the ground.

Dennis frowned, not wanting to leave her with that almost impossible to guarantee promise, and decided it was better to test something now that no one was looking.

As the Rangers began moving out, Dennis quickly kissed her cheek before whispering "Don't go anywhere, okay?"

"I-I-I-" she tried, flustered by the sudden action.

"Promise?" he asked her before she could muster a full sentence.

"I... P-promise..." she said in almost incomprehensible English.

He smiled weakly and stood up, slinging the rifle on his back and smiling warmly at her as her face became as red as a ripe tomato and she covered herself with the combat jacket.

Hastings watched him and smiled slightly.

It was like seeing two kids experimenting with love for the first time. Sappy, but it was innocent in a way that he couldn't help but smile at. He was even about to comment, maybe say something along the lines of oh, careful, Den, the miscegenation laws are gonna get you or something along those lines, until Dennis faced away from her.

It was like the 18-year-old kid transformed into someone else.

The warmth, the smile, the hope in that young face vanished, immediately replaced by hatred and coldness he hadn't expected even from him. It was worse than his expression after Alnus and Itálica as if a switch had been flipped on and it wasn't about to be flipped off.

Though he completely understood why.

Time to kill...

Thus, they silently marched down the now empty streets.

The Red-Light District was now fully deserted.

Not a soul, animal, or otherwise. The place appeared like an empty skeleton, the already disheveled homes now in far worse conditions, as if what little maintenance the denizens of the district did to maintain the old buildings had been enough to keep the place going and little more. Doors and their wooden structures collapsed on themselves, old decorations and graffiti had faded with whatever color the old structures had once had.

The only sound now was the distance battle cry of the enemy.

Hastings tried, desperately so, to think of something to say and lighten the mood.

All he came up with was "So... this is it, huh?"

Rhodes said "Yup."

There was no time for speeches or encouragement.

It was a simple matter.

Either they held Zorzal's force long enough for the Air Force to arrive and obliterate them, or they didn't.

Rhodes said "If we get overrun, we can't afford to panic... we have to stick together, understand? We get split up, we're dead."

The Rangers only nodded in acknowledgment.

They stopped walking as they reached the main street.

"Well... this is the place... they're going to have to come through here if they want to get to our hideout."

Alex shakily crossed himself.

Tom looked around, saw some old crates, lightly kicked them with his leg before sighing.

"Not much to make any fortifications."

Rhodes shook his head.

"Not going to be necessary. Sean, Orville, right side, Tom, Hastings, left side, set up the M60 on the ground by those steps, Alex, with me. If they get too close, we run through the alleys... and then we detonate these Claymores." he finished, grabbing his bag, saying "Give me a hand here..."

Rhodes and Alex moved quickly, setting up the mines where needed.

Meanwhile, Dennis checked the M16 as Sean checked his assortment of weapons.

He had the M1903 on his back and the M3 by his waist.

"You good?" he asked as he pressed himself against the wall of the home, lifting his rifle.

Sean shrugged, lifting the M3 and aiming it at the street ahead.

"Misery should have gotten out of here by now. Same for anyone still living here... just us and the enemy."

Dennis nodded, staring straight at the end of the street.

From the other end of the street, Tom asked "You boys ever hear of William Wallace?"

Sean replied with "Scottish folk hero, right?"

"Yeah. I heard he held a bridge all on his own."

Sean huffed, saying "That wasn't him."

"Look, I don't care, the point is, when push came to shove, we held bridges, showed the English we kicked ass."

"Yeah, and Wallace got drawn and quartered for it in front of a cheering crowd before getting dismembered and having his body pieces sent to different parts of England as an example of what happened when you defied the king."

"Oh... God..."

The sound of Dennis vomiting the brief breakfast he'd had into the nearby window was all that was heard after the colorful description of an execution.

After wiping his mouth, Dennis weakly groaned "Tom, when we get home if I ever suggest using the GI Bill to go to college, sock me in the face with brass knuckles, will you?"

"Yeah... what's the matter with you, Sean?"

Sean sighed, saying "I'm just being honest... ain't no glory in this."

"Wasn't about glory, was about telling you we're gonna win, dumbass."

"By using a guy who lost as an example?"

Tom fell silent.

Dennis laughed.

Loudly.

"He's got you there, man." He said in between breaths.

It was oddly contagious as the Rangers on the street chuckled amongst each other for a moment, contrasted with the heavy tension surrounding them as they waited for the enemy.

Tom saying "Hey, at least I gave an example..."

Sean said, "Here, let me give you one... when I was in sixth grade, class of fifty-one... this one kid... real wise guy... didn't like that the math teacher was going to give us a test, right? Now, it had been a tough week for us, and the math teacher, missus Kubrick- she had actually been missing for a couple of days and hadn't given us all the material the test was supposed to be on."

"Yeah?"

"So... this guy, the wise guy... when the class starts he... he gets up from his desk, chest puffed, chin-up, real confident-like... and he says Miss Kubrick, I refuse to take this test that you have not prepared us for right in front of the entire class. Now, Miss Kubrick, she's one of the most patient women I've ever met, cause she just stood there, staring at this sixth-grader, and hoo boy, we thought he was going to get paddled."

"My teacher would've paddled me if I spoke without raising my hand."

"Right, so... so, she... she's lookin' at him... and looks at us, and we're all doe-eyed because we've never seen a kid do something like that, I mean, who has? But she looks at us and goes anyone supports this?"

Hastings chortled a touch.

Sean said, "No one speaks up, but this wise guy keeps his chest puffed, and keeps trying to stare her down... and Miss Kubrick looks at him and says well, for bravely standing up for yourself, I won't give the test today."

"Bull."

"I kid you not! Now we are all gobsmacked, I mean... this kid was like... like a hero for a bit... teacher went on about how it's important to stand up for what was right and told us that it wasn't fair for her to give us a test on a subject she hadn't given us yet and all that, but she told us that it was important to stand even though no one else stood with you."

Silence.

Dennis said, "Was that jackass you?"

Sean stammered something, Tom quickly saying "It totally was, wasn't it! I bet she beat your sorry ass-"

Rhodes arrived, saying "Can it, we can make fun of Sean and his college education later!"

He positioned himself near Tom, by the corner of a home, Alex kneeling behind him, one hand on the M16, another on the radio. The men were silent for a moment, the booming noise of marching legions growing ever louder as they got closer.

…

The Green Beret captain puffed on his cigarette, an exhausted look in his eyes.

Their street was the widest, which could become a problem, but it had the sturdiest buildings, which certainly helped their situation.

He let out a smoky breath, mumbling "I'd rather be in the forest..."

"Captain?"

"Nothing... claymores set?"

"Yes, captain."

"Good."

He checked the M2 Carbine, the automatic variant of the World War 2 weapon, ensuring the 30 round magazine of .30 carbine was firmly in place, as the marching steps got ever nearer.

His lieutenant said, "This reminds you of any fronts, captain?"

He glanced at his subordinate.

The World War 2 veteran could have given many responses given all the fronts he had fought in, and how brutal combat had always been.

"Not really..." he said instead.

As he tossed his cigarette aside, a pair of centurions on horses appeared on the end of the street. Pausing as they saw the men at the other end.

He mumbled, "Scouts... don't engage."

"Captain?"

"We just have to hold for a bit... technically fifty-five minutes at the moment. The longer it takes for them to get organized without us having to fight them, the better."

He glanced at his wristwatch, the seconds ticking by uncaring of circumstance.

Zorzal, however, was unaware of the ticking clock, observing his marching legions from his white horse, rubbing the scar on his cheek, where the skin had been healed but clearly not properly as he couldn't feel it at all. As if the healer had only been able to stop the bleeding and nothing more.

His missing teeth were also a distraction, Zorzal trying to focus on the practical means he had available to destroy these men from another world once and for all.

I should have brought some fliers... had Father not sent them to Tiberius back then we could have swept these cowards away much quicker. This is all his fault!

Borhos approached him, saying "Emperor, the scouts have encountered some men standing around the main streets that lead into the Red-Light District."

Zorzal snapped out of his mental blame game, hopping off the horse as an officer brought him a map of the capital city. Taking a quill, Borhos marked down

"It seems they're finding what chokepoints they can. They saw four men here... five here... two here..."

As Borhos marked the streets his scouts had encountered these... men... Zorzal raised an eyebrow. On the one hand, the Red-Light District was almost separated from the capital, its homes built so closely together they almost walled themselves off from the rest of his glorious city, leaving few roads his legions could properly march into it.

The enemy knew this and had clearly reacted accordingly.

"They split their forces up..." he muttered.

"Indeed. Assuming they can all do as much damage as we saw earlier, then, a flanking maneuver with General Woody's forces may be our best hope."

Zorzal rubbed his chin in contemplation.

Should he wait?

His mind briefly shot back to the kid who had wounded him and killed Bouro.

"Any idea where that... traitor may have run off to?"

"Emperor?"

Zorzal spoke quietly, barely above a whisper.

"See, if they have a few men guarding these streets. They'll likely be overwhelmed easily enough, but we may not have to. If we can get them to hand those traitors over, we can fool them into thinking we're going to let them go."

Borho's eyes widened.

"You... you want to try and parlay with the enemy, Emperor?"

"Not parlay but the façade of parlay. It's worth a try, I suppose. They'll likely lower their guard, and once that happens... we overwhelm them. These are the main streets, but there are alleyways and other entrances we can use. These cowards like their games of deception, then let's play along. We don't need Woody to flank them, we'll flank them ourselves. Lightning-quick!"

Borhos shuddered at the plan.

He had to agree that it could work if the enemy fell for it, but a part of him doubted they would.

"Send the scouts with a message telling the enemy we wish to parlay." then, with a cruel grin, "We have an offer I doubt they can refuse."

…

"You want us to what?" Dennis called from behind the stone home, rifle still aimed at the men on horseback.

"Parlay! You surrender the traitors, we let you live!" came the scout's response.

Dennis translated to Rhodes.

Rhodes frowned, turning to Alex who said "Berets are getting the same offer... we're going to pretend to consider it for a bit... you know... avoid a confrontation for as long as possible."

Dennis only nodded before turning to look down the street.

"We're considering it!" he lied.

A lie that was repeated across the line.

If there was one benefit to fighting an enemy stuck in a medieval state, it was the fact that they didn't have effective descriptions of the person they were searching for. Whereas the Americans could identify using photographs, these men had never met Dennis in their lives, and would at best know that they were looking for a young cook turned traitor wielding a small weapon... not an American in green combat uniform with an M2 Helmet and comparatively larger than M16 on hand.

Rhodes asked, "How long do you think they'll give us?"

Alex sighed, saying "Probably not enough."

Dennis added, "No time at all... odds are they're going to try to flank us through the alleys and they're buying time."

Rhodes nodded, saying "We booby-trapped some of the alleys, but not all of them... maybe they plan to position troops there before charging here as a distraction, and then flank us where they can?"

Dennis shrugged.

Rhodes sighed, saying "Well, push comes to shove, we'll fall back to more defensible positions. Right now all we can do is wait."

…

Zorzal stared at the empty buildings with an expression not unlike that of a man bored out of his skull. He rubbed the healed wound, still unable to feel the area he'd been wounded in.

He asked, "What's taking them so long?"

"Majesty, it's only been five minutes."

"It shouldn't be that hard a decision to make!" Zorzal declared with full confidence, whipping his horse forward.

"Emperor!" Borhos tried.

He glanced at the legions, men standing at strict attention; their armor glistening in the morning sun as they waited patiently for the order to move in.

Some of the older men even smirked as if proud to serve such a seemingly steadfast leader.

He ignored them and chased after the young emperor.

Dennis never took his eyes off the street as Zorzal arrived.

"Son of Tobias, I know you're here!" came the shout.

It was Sean who said "Captain, I have a good shot right now, do I take it?"

"Not yet... Dennis?"

"Yes, captain?"

"Time to inform him of his circumstances."

Dennis pressed his cheek into the rifle in a tired expression, shutting his eyes for a moment before saying "Yes, captain."

He then moved slightly to the left, revealing himself to the enemy.

He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding once he realized he hadn't been shot by an arrow. Zorzal smirked, staring him down.

"Ah, excellent. Your friends left you out to dry? Where's Tyuule?"

"Emperor, we're not surrendering."

Zorzal winced looking ahead.

Zorzal laughed.

"So you wish to die, is that it?!"

Dennis loudly said "No, emperor, we do not wish to die. Do your men wish to die?"

Had it been anyone else, Zorzal would have happily and gleefully made fun of the young man for suggesting his men weren't willing to die for him, but Zorzal wasn't that stupid. He'd seen what these cowards could do and he didn't need his men thinking he had no winning strategy here.

Zorzal said "It is in everyone's best interest you just surrender. As you said, no one has to die!"

"Then you should surrender."

Zorzal winced.

"Excuse me?"

"If you care for your men's lives, surrender."

It was strange how still everything got when no one spoke.

The Americans kept their weapons leveled, the Imperial Army kept its arrows ready as no sound could be heard in the Red-light district, glowing in the morning sun.

Zorzal loudly said "You are insane. The empire will not-"

"Our aircraft are up there, Emperor... on the way. They will destroy this army once they get here unless you all surrender."

"Oh, certainly, I'm sure they will! But you'll be dead anyway! So will your friends, so will your allies, and so will the beast you took from me."

Dennis didn't reply.

Nor did he move.

Nor did he blink.

At the lack of a reaction, Zorzal looked at his men, then turned back to the small enemy force.

He called "Alright, Son of Tobias... I'm sure you care about the men with you... so let's do the following!"

He hopped off his horse, grabbing Borho's blade.

"Majesty-?"

"Quiet, Borhos... watch me."

He tossed Borho's blade down the street.

The ancient weapon landed a distance away from Dennis.

Dennis didn't react.

"A duel! If I win your merry band surrenders and gives Tyuule back to me. If you win... well... you go free."