Mission 2 - The Cut-Scene - Part 1

  TA419 - 02/02 ,

  Airspace above the Ducal City of Bannerman, Capital of Fal-Dara.

  It took only a day from his meeting with the Grand Admiral aboard Defence Platform 1 for Captain Synapse and his ship to reach Abhiale. The Captain decided to load up a shuttle rather than bring the entire warship into orbit. After all, Bailey Mechanics was located in the ‘Province of Fal-Dara’, the sole part of the continent not under TSU occupation. Although they had permission to land, riling the citizens by landing the Curadh in their city was not the objective of today's visit.

  As the shuttle entered normal airspace, the protective covers on either side rolled down, allowing Synapse and his three companions, the current roster of pilots aboard the Curadh, to get a look below. Sprawling out was the capital city, Bannerman. It rolled for miles; with Abhaile's thin atmosphere, high-rise buildings were as good as nonexistent. Some cube-like houses rise to two or three stories in the denser areas, sandy red roads and paths between them, dust shutters covering every window of even the smaller slum houses on the outskirts. To the far north stood one of two notable buildings: Perched on a small hill, with rounded dome-like towers springing up, was the manor of the city's patriarch, the Duke of Bannerman. As though standing in opposition to it, their destination - the enormous compound of Bailey Mechanics - tall metal boxes stained a reddish brown by the frequent dust storms, chimney pyres belching smoke and miles of keys for ships much larger than this shuttle to land.

  "Tch," Lt.Commander Donald Moncha scoffed at Synapse's side. The Captain smiled at this predictable reaction. Moncha had been by his side for an awfully long time, back when they had been the captain and flight squadron commander of a waterborne aircraft carrier. Back when the idea of war in space had seemed all but impossible.

  He was tall, nearly seven feet, with broad shoulders, somewhat scruffy but just about regulation brown hair, and a friendly-looking moustache that always undercut his more cynical remarks. In some ways, Synapse found him unassuming. He didn't exactly look like one of TSU’s very best pilots, nor did he ever act that way. It was something the old captain appreciated a great deal.

  "Best behaviour now, lads, wouldn't want to cause an incident," he said.

  The two other men saluted brightly. Moncha's current wingmen were nice and simple like that, but their leader was not, "Not like the Duke would ever stir a fuss. You can almost respect the rebels, not cowards, at least."

  "Cowards? Maybe, but this city is prospering like it always has, unoccupied at that. The Duke may not be a soldier, but he puts the needs of his people first," Synapse said back calmly. Moncha scoffed again.

  It was a calm and quiet way to start their mission. They would lead the Admiral’s rogue unit, so there would be ample time for dramatics. For now, Syanpase was rather grateful for a laidback day spent commuting and lightly politicking.

  ****

  Same day, Same Time, Same Planet,

  Isles of Remembrance, Abhailen Independence Remnant Forces Headquarters.

  Kiyo Kigen, better known as 'The Bane of Konpei', stared up through narrow eyes at the trio of Casnels. His black hair, kept in a wolf tail, drifted behind him as he came to a stop. He straightened to stand at full height, filling his pristine uniform perfectly. A grin threatened to present itself, but he held it back. It had been a couple of months since the operation to steal the TSU prototypes from Vanadis and even longer since he’d had to abandon the men of Outpost 23, but at long last, the waiting was over. Today was the day it would finally begin anew.

  "Impressive work for just two months," The Scarlet Scourge murmured on his right; her wild crimson hair floated in the half gravity, combined with a worn camo-coloured half jacket, she gave off a slightly less impressive image than Kigen - however, from her red-rimmed eyes to a perpetual grin, she left no less of an impression.

  "It took every last engineer, mechanic, and technician pulling all-nighters to strip down, document, and put these three back together that fast. It was wise to take care of all other production concerns before we acquired them," Kigen nodded back.

  "You do love it when a plan comes together, don't you," Lady Sesha’s silky voice cooed on his right. Kigen frowned.

  Sesha stifled a chuckle, with a dainty hand to her thin lips, "Sorry, enjoy is the wrong word, my dear Kigen." Sesha's clothing was a little more refined than Scarlet’s. Shapely face, tall, long legs in tight-fitted trousers, Sesha had the bearing of a noble lady out previewing her land, more so than any of their other comrades. That bearing had led many a man to underestimate her abilities at great cost.

  It had been a whirlwind production but well worth the sleepless nights and overtime. The 'Chevalier' type Casnel was a treasure trove of innovation. The new Gen-3 mech frame alone was a massive breakthrough. The honeycomb shield and Mk2 Calabar blades were upgrades that could be deployed to their existing armies as soon as production began, now that studying them was complete. Not to mention, the mechs themselves were top-of-the-line. They could cut deep into TSU forces, a near-invincible sword.

  However, that was only true with adequate pilots, and Kigen was just as grateful for those. The two beside him had also joined him for the raid on Vanadis.

  Sesha, to his left, was an experienced ace who served the naval forces throughout the war and partook in many battles. Combined with her Magi skills - esper-like supernatural abilities - she was a pilot few could hope to match. For the last five years, she trained dozens of recruits for their forces and was, without a doubt, the best tutor the force had at its disposal.

  The woman to his right was an even greater boon. Although few knew it, Scarlet was likely the most experienced pilot alive. She and Kigen had a history of sorts. Before the war began, they had both been recruited for the Beta Vijiak class, taught by the first test pilot - The Knight Templar (MIA) - they had been at the top of this class, Kigen always slightly ahead. He’d often wondered if she'd handed him that lead to take the spotlight off herself. They'd both spent time teaching others and were deployed as Vijiak pilots when the war broke out.

  Scarlet’s career had seen her in the regular navy before being part of the Abhialen invasion forces. She was one of the few to survive and return to space, where her skills were finally recognised, and she received a promotion to tier 1 ace. Brought into the elite Knight-Brigades, the group Kigen had been in since the start of the war. Their paths had not crossed, however, as Kigen, at a similar time, was moved to Admiral Agitate’s fleet to be a field commander, a position he was, in effect, still holding.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  By the end of the war, they finally met once more. All the defeated independence forces gathered on the Isles of Remembrance, but it hadn't been much of a reunion. They’d become different people, collectively seeing every horror and crime both sides of the war had committed. Soon after, Scarlet left alone. She became a renowned pirate, pillaging TSU supply lines. Kigen would periodically get a report detailing her appearing and helping out an Abhailen splinter cell here and there, but that was it. While he and his comrades had huddled on this cold, frigid island, rebuilding their ships and planning their next move, Scarlet had spent five years waging skirmishes against their foe.

  Her battle count was unknowable at this point; she certainly didn't seem to be keeping count.

  She did have one gap in her experience: leadership. At most, commanding a small squad at the Battle of Ghaelach, but that was all. In contrast, Sesha was a proven squad leader, and he could trust her to command missions absent even a ship captain's aide. Nonetheless, Kigen expected his old friend, newly promoted to tier 2 ace, taking the title their enemy had given her 'Scarlet Scourge', would not let him down in this department.

  The three would use these Casnels better than TSU could have ever imagined.

  ****

  Commander Donald Moncha of the warship Curadh stepped off the shuttle onto the glass bridge leading from it and followed his captain. The tallest building in Bannerman, the headquarters of Bailey Mechanics, the largest and most financially lucrative company in existence.

  The walkway reminded him of those at airport terminals, and its glass side allowed him a view of, "Are those protesters?"

  "Sure looks like it, boss," Ensign Gemon said while Ensign Yazan nodded. The two were Moncha's current wingmen and not precisely conversationalists, prone to pointing out the obvious and little else. That said, the two large men were both excellent pilots, capable of keeping up with Moncha - for that, he could accept their lack of oratory skills and rather ‘meathead’ looks.

  Thankfully, Synapse was the opposite. The man Moncha respected most in the world always had something to say, usually something insightful, though he also knew when not to talk: "It would seem not everyone welcomes us."

  Squinting, Moncha could just about make out plaques with words like, 'No TSU' and the slightly more articulated, 'Stop trading away our souls', a comment on Bailey selling armaments to the Union, Moncha guessed. They were crowded around a large gateway in the city's direction and seemed peaceful, if a bit rowdy.

  "Does the Duke have no control over his people?"

  "Err, Boss?" Gemon muttered.

  "Quite, perhaps, Moncha, we can keep such remarks for when we are not inside the Duke's domain?" Synapse added with a wry smile.

  Moncha winced, realising he'd overstepped, “Ah ya, sorry."

  As though on queue, a small welcoming party appeared at the end of the glass corridor; "Many welcomes, gentlemen!" the best-dressed man leading the group announced in a very ‘rural’ voice. Captain Synapse stepped forward to shake the man's hand. Moncha frowned.

  Slim build, ginger hair, green eyes, plus that accent; this man was most likely Ivernian or had Ivernian blood and had practised the accent. Ivernia was a nation of central Bhaile, well-liked for tourism and seen as a quaint farming land. Of course, it was much more complex than such a stereotype, but having such a man greet them instead of a local Abhailen struck Muncha as a calculated choice.

  "Allow me to apologise for the 'crowd' outside. Rest assured, we have staff ready should it get physical."

  "You have our thanks," Synapse replied in his best cordial-representative expression.

  The salesman began to lead them into the building proper, making small talk with the Captain while Moncha and his men skulked behind, feeling slightly out of place.

  “The Duke himself sent word to thank you, gentlemen, for your continued business with our company and city,” the salesman nattered on.

  “Too busy to come show that and rid us of protestors?” Moncha muttered; muttered perhaps a little too loudly. The corridor, including workers who’d simply been passing by, went quiet. Moncha’s expression froze, even he knew that had been rude.

  “Protesting is a part of our culture, Commander,” the salesman said tacitly, turning to make eye contact, “Democracy on Abhiale has always allowed for such shows of public opinion.”

  “Ah right, of course. Sorry?” Moncha replied, scratching a hand against the back of his head.

  “No problem at all. Cultural differences are the spice of life. I’m sure my own Ivernian ancestry would have had much the same culture shock when they first arrived in our fair city. Now then, shall we go on?” the welcome commit didn’t wait for further comment and began moving again. Others in the corridor followed suit, and air returned to the building just like that.

  "Ow!" Moncha cried as his two lumbering wingmen each picked a foot to stamp on, and even his Captain elbowed him in the ribs with a sigh.

  ****

  Remembrance's plan relied heavily on the Casnels; no other machine could bridge the sheer gap in numbers between them and their enemy. Had Kigen had this machine back at the outpost, those men would not have died. The Casnel could have taken that entire army of MBTs; that's what he had to believe. Their people had customised the mech trio to boot.

  Scarlet’s had two massive launchers placed one on either shoulder. Her Calabar blades - massive physical blades covered in rapidly rotating ‘teeth’ like some giant chainsaw - of choice were a colossal broadsword and a great axe. And most of all, her machine’s head unit had been swapped out, the pointed beak of the Chevalier units replaced with a pyramidal head, a blank visor at its centre that, when powered, would house a massive red eye and several smaller, insect-like dots.

  Sesha’s machine stayed true to the original design, with the proud curving chest piece and pointed head unit intact, meant to look like a knight from centuries ago. A few minor additions, such as a rifle customised to handle the intense output of a Casnel, were all she had requested, keeping even the Calabar blade in the shape of a thin rapier intact.

  Kigen's had changed the most. To pay homage to his cultural origins - or so the strategists had told him - the mech had lost armour. Its torso was thinner than the other two, and a plate in the middle with the eastern characters for 'Remember' was carved into it. The shield torn apart and repurposed into two-layered shoulder guards. A custom ‘U-shaped’ helmet with pointed tips, in the style of his homeland, and the Calabar blade reshaped into a long curving sword, similar to the one on his belt right now.

  He could appreciate the sword; he was the current generation head of the Kigen School of swordsmanship. The rest struck him as gaudy and overdone, especially the idea of losing any armour to play into the image. Nonetheless, Admiral Agitate, among many others, had insisted it was good for the troops's morale, so he'd begrudgingly accepted the changes.

  "They’re ready for you, Sirs," Lieutenant Benson called from the doorway adjoining this side room, the headquarters’s central hangar bay. Benson was a long-time servant of Kigen, though he could only see him as a friend after so many years.

  He had served as Kigen's batman through the war, and when the tournament of practice Vijaik battles was held to determine Rememberences five best aces, Benson had ranked just below the top ten, no small feat. The man was getting on a bit, in his fifties now; the war had not aged him kindly, his grey hair and tanned, wrinkled face making him seem downright ancient. Still, his piloting skills and abilities as a sub-commander never seemed to dull.

  "Thank you, Benson. Well, ladies, let's do this," Kigen said to his two companions, the second and fifth-ranked pilots amongst all of Remembrance.

  Also noteworthy is that there is a full appendix on the Chevaliers and their creator that can be found at the end of the 'Templar' novel. That book is however set some ways in the future and thus I would recommend ignoring that appendix if this is your fix of my books, since it heavily implies things about this one. Still if you've read later books and are interested, it can be found here;