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The Resurrector
 Author |
Barring Keroko's approval on Tesla, I'll post the first two parts of Chapter Four first.
Warning: HUGE Bluecheese Wall imminent.
Chapter Four is a big pot of fabrication magic, cheesy lines, dreams, talks, lots of words, and ... uhm, I'll let the Chapter speak for itself.
Mahou Shoujo Lyrical Nanoha GuardianS
Chapter Four—Escutcheon
Spoiler for Scene I:
[Admiral’s Office, XV Class Warship Claudia] [January 21st, MC 081] [0830 hours]
Chrono drummed his fingers on his working desk slowly. He had been doing so for the past fifteen minutes. His eyes were closed, his brows knitted in a deep frown. Dark circles had appeared below his eyes, something that was not natural for the Admiral. A huge stumbling block had appeared in his train of thoughts, and it was a big trouble to resolve.
This is absurd! he screamed silently, frustration etched on his face.
He opened his eyes, unable to stare into the darkness of his mind any longer. It bore no fruits, after all. He ran a finger over the air, and a screen flickered into view. Upon the flat of the monitor, a series of lines appeared, connected to the thumbnails of various persons, forming a smooth flow-chart. The upper part of the chart seemed to be complete, but the lower one had several empty spaces, flashing red.
It was the roster of the new unit against the mysterious group of personae that was targeting the Jewels of the Star.
This does not even make one complete unit, Chrono thought, his frown deepening as he glared at the chart, particularly at the ones with the blinking sign. There isn’t sufficient manpower for the frontline combatants.
He looked at the screen carefully again. Most of the auxiliary units—Communications, Intelligence and Support, Devices, and Logistics—had been filled with their respective leaders and members. The respective persons had been contacted, and they had agreed. The main problem now, however, was with the squadrons, who would be engaged in battles with the enemy. Two units had been registered with their tentative members, but even they seemed to be insufficient.
There is need for more, but given the short timeframe, it is impossible, Chrono thought irritably.
Nanoha, Fate, and Hayate had offered their services, and they had all been listed, but their squads were lacking members who were experienced enough in dealing with real combat. There were Signum, Agito, Tesla, and Teana, all of whom had been put under their respective leaders; Shamal and Reinforce Zwei were under Intelligence and Support. Vita and Zafira were on mission, and they had yet to come back. Caro and Erio had their duties on their planet, and they could not offer their help at this moment of time. Subaru was still in hospital.
For the past three days, the list of possible candidates ran through Chrono’s mind, and none of them could fit in. There were many good fighters with enough combat experience in the Bureau, yet none of them could fulfill his conditions. Secrecy of the mission and the unit assigned for it must be maintained for multiple reasons that Chrono could not openly speak out. So far, he had only informed his mother, Admiral Lindy Harlaown, and Admiral Leti Lowran, his mother’s best friend.
Both had agreed on the unit’s importance, given the dire warning Carim’s power had revealed and the appearance of the suspicious group that coincided with the search for the Jewels. They had also issued stern measures on the confidentiality, sharing Chrono’s sentiments in the possible consequences that a public disclosure would cause. At least, if it was necessary to warn the public of the danger, measures should be in place to ensure that there would be orderly rendezvous. Chaos was what they need the least when the safety of the citizens was their priority.
Then, there was the problem with personnel from other forces. Admittedly, Chrono was acquainted only with the members of the Naval Fleet, where he had direct supervision on. Information was lacking on those from the Air and Ground Forces, and even though Nanoha had helped supplied some, it was insufficient to draw on their prowess from words alone. What he needed were those that had experience and could work as a team for highly dangerous battles, ones that could cost them their lives.
Chrono could not risk sending incompatible members into the unit whose main objective encompassed the survival of the citizens, even if they proved to be willing to do so. No doubt, all members of the Armed Forces swore to the oath of laying their lives for the nation, yet there were few who could actually make survival possible. Willingness to sacrifice was commendable, but foolish, if they could not fulfill the mission. The only plausible comfort that Chrono could find for this was to find a small unit who had worked together before and possessing sufficient battle experience to last in the predictable battles.
The incident five years ago was also proving to be a thorn in Chrono’s side. The former Lieutenant-General for the Ground Forces, Regius Gaiz, and the three of the High Council, who hatched a secret plot with the dimensional criminal Jail Scaglietti, were all killed by one of Scaglietti’s Numbers, Due. The event caused such a controversial uproar in the Bureau that there were stricter rules now in place for units registered in the boundaries of the Ground Forces, partly to deter turncoats and traitors within the Force itself and also strengthening the invisible line that separated the Bureau divisions.
Chrono had heard that the new Lieutenant-General replacing Gaiz was a stern and severe man by the name of Leonidas von Khrull, whose history of service in the Bureau was as just as impressive as the rumors surrounding his character. Too many Navy personnel in the unit would surely trigger an unwanted counter from von Khrull, and Chrono had had enough in his platter already to add more. Disapproval from the Lieutenant-General, even with the support of the Admirals and the Saint Church, did not go well with the trust that he needed to be in place in case help was required and emergencies were to happen.
The problems constantly hounded Chrono’s thoughts, such that he had not had good sleep since his return from the Saint Church three days ago. There was little that he could do, and even less time to do them.
The problems must be addressed as soon as possible. The enemy might strike at any moment.
He stood up, pacing back and forth in his quaint office. Apart from a working desk with a vase of fresh flowers, a set of sofas around a small table, several rows of cabinets lined with books, and three sets of large windows, there were no other things that adorned the large office. For one of his position, Chrono was quite simple, preferring to have a bigger space for deep thoughts and musings. Currently, the atmosphere was not as conducive as he had expected it to be. He walked to one of the windows, staring out into space.
Claudia, the warship that was both an investigative vessel as well as a command center, flew soundlessly through the endless horizon that was the universal cosmos whereupon different dimensions were linked. Uncountable stars flickered and winked, painting an abstract image upon the vast canvas known as outer space. Chrono never tire from the view. Beautiful …
Just then, a projection screen appeared. Chrono’s assistant, a violet-haired male, spoke: “I am sorry to have intruded, Admiral, but Inspector Acous wishes to speak with you.”
Chrono was surprised; he had not expected Verossa to come. “It’s all right,” Chrono said. “Please bring him in.”
The assistant nodded, and the screen flickered out of sight. There was a polite knock on the door, which then slid open to admit the green-haired inspector, who was Chrono’s old friend. He was flashing his signature smile as he entered. “My friend Chrono, how do you do today?” Verossa was hardly formal around Chrono, even if their status had been different.
“I’ve had better,” Chrono grunted as he turned to greet his friend. He smiled weakly. “More problems have appeared.” He motioned for one of the sofas, and both of them sat. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have any drinks to serve.”
“It’s all right,” Verossa replied, chuckling. “Really, it is a rarity to see you so troubled.”
Chrono did not share in his mirth, though he tried to smile.
“Anyway,” Verossa continued, seeing his friend’s restlessness, “what are the new problems you’re talking about? Maybe I can help with them.”
Chrono explained at length the dilemma that he was facing. Verossa listened with rapt attention, and not a word was spoken until his friend had finished.
“Hmm, it’s quite true,” Verossa said after thinking for a moment. “Lieutenant-General von Khrull has built himself quite a reputation when it comes to rules. He dislikes people who play around with loopholes, and is infamous for wringing those that do. Not literally, of course, but he gives them enough trouble to cause them to drop whatever ideas they have in mind.”
Verossa thought for a moment longer, then smiled faintly. “As far as I know, only one person has ever gotten past his inflexibility. Still, if memory serves me right, it was a protracted battle of wits between the two that, by the time it was over, the idea had become useless.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Chrono admitted, his frown returning. “We need to have the defense unit operational quickly; there’s no telling when the enemy moves. If I need to debate with him, I would, but it does no good in speeding up the process.”
Verossa nodded. “Then, we need to reduce the risks that might give him an opening to attack us.”
At this, Chrono shook his head. “I’ve already thought of it for three days, and no ideas came into mind. The current problem that will prove to be his greatest advantage is that the forward teams need additional members, and so far, I can only place either Navy or Enforcer personnel into them. There are already a number of Navy members in the proposed unit, one who is my own sister. The risk already runs high enough as it is.” He sighed. “I’m not familiar with the Air or Ground Forces, and even if they do have potential, there is little about their cooperative level that I know of.”
“And teamwork is too important for you to put antagonistic members into the unit,” Verossa added.
“Exactly,” Chrono said, nodding. “There is little time to train new members and shape up their solidarity. If Carim’s warning and the information we have on the new enemy are true, then I expect action soon.”
Verossa was quiet for a moment, his eyes closed as he thought aloud: “Hmm, we need members who are already a team, affiliated the least to the Navy, and have combat experience …” Chrono looked at his own hands, as if a solution might appear at any moment.
Verossa’s eyes suddenly flew open. “Have you ever thought of Leona and her comrades?”
“L-Leona?” Chrono stammered as his head snapped up to look at Verossa. He was clearly taken aback by his suggestion and was not expecting this, as evidenced by the look of disbelief on his face. Verossa grinned as he saw his friend’s expression. “W-What made you think she’s compatible?”
“Hmm, let’s see,” Verossa made a mocking expression of deep thought. “She scores extremely well in all Bureau examinations, and has an intelligence quotient that tops at 332 points, a rare genius among the Bureau members, sans the researchers and engineers. Her deductive accuracy in possible alternatives is 81 percent. She has a deep understanding of languages, machines, computers, history, physics, biology, chemistry, astronomy, magic, and plenty of other fields.”
“All right, all right,” Chrono said, putting up both hands in defeat. “I know all her strong points. How exactly do you think she fits in the unit, in any case? This time, be serious.” He looked intently at Verossa.
“She and her comrades solve your problems easily,” Verossa explained. “They work as a team and have combat experience. That, and they have an extensive knowledge of the case we’re on, so it can be safely said that they won’t panic or refuse. Even if they do the latter, there’s no harm done. You, I, and most of the members in the proposed unit know Leona, and better still, the Aces consider her as a friend. If they can trust Leona, I think it should work out for the rest of her comrades.”
“But, they work for the Intelligence Department,” Chrono retorted. Like what Verossa said, Leona’s team was a perfect solution to their predicament. Too perfect, actually, and that made Chrono uneasy.
“That can be easily solved,” Verossa replied. “As much as the Intelligence Department works more for the Navy, they work as well for the other Forces. Generally speaking, the Ground Forces employ Special Investigations Department more extensively than Intelligence, but the argument stands. Most of the information received by Special Investigations has their preliminary base supplied by Intelligence, so the Lieutenant-General has little to say about Leona being more directly affiliated with the Navy.”
Verossa stopped for a moment before continuing. “If you do remember, she has been relegated to working independently, after the incident.”
The mention of ‘the incident’ made Chrono silent for a moment. Verossa has a point, Chrono agreed silently. Leona’s team tackled all three stumbling blocks smoothly, and there were plenty of arguments that he could present if the Lieutenant-General disapproved. Still, he was feeling uneasy with the idea of Leona in the unit. It was an inexplicable sensation that manifested itself silently in his mind.
No, not inexplicable; it was more like he was trying to reject the explanation. He had known Leona for some time, but something had happened in the past that he wished not to think about anymore. Her sudden reappearance into the scene regurgitated the feelings that had lain dormant in the deepest recesses of his mind.
Her darkest secrets …
And the danger she poses …
For some time now, Chrono had not seen Leona, and it had taken a considerable amount of time to recover from the shock when he had met her.
To recover from the time when her hand touched mine, the singular moment that had caused my entire world to convulse …
“Chrono?” Verossa asked, his voice concerned. He was half-rising from his seat when he saw his friend spacing out in front of him. Verossa touched his shoulder and shook him.
Chrono blinked, his reverie broken. He stared at Verossa, who was shaking his shoulder. “O-Oh, nothing,” Chrono murmured, trying to regain his composure. He smiled weakly as Verossa’s face wore a worried expression. “I’m all right, there’s nothing to be anxious about.”
“You say so,” Verossa said. “But, for a moment back then, I thought you have left this world. You were sitting so still you didn’t move a muscle.”
“I’m sorry about that,” Chrono apologized. “I was thinking about something.”
“About her, no doubt?” Verossa asked succinctly, though he already knew the answer.
Chrono did not reply. He shifted his eyes to the glass table, the polished surface reflecting his face.
“You know,” Verossa continued, “I’m surprised that you still haven’t let it go. What she did back then was out of her own control, you know that as much as I do. If Amy could forgive her, why couldn’t you?”
“It’s not a matter of why, Verossa,” Chrono spoke without looking up.
“Then, what is it?”
“It is a matter of how,” Chrono answered shortly.
There was silence then, a moment of quiescence that stretched for a long time between the two friends.
“So, you don’t want Leona to be in?” Verossa asked, breaking the silence.
Chrono took a moment before replying. “Not entirely. You have your points about taking her in, and they are as sound as can be, for now. Of course, there are special circumstances and regulations that I need to take should she agree to join.” He looked up at Verossa, eyes searching. “Regarding her, what news does Lieutenant Sunstrider bring?”
Verossa shrugged. “You should’ve expected the answer. He continues to refuse any such approach since two years ago.”
“He’s taken in by Leona as well?” Chrono asked even though the answer was already evident.
“Quite,” Verossa replied. “Leona has that kind of attraction, hasn’t she?” he added with a slight smile.
“Yes, she does,” Chrono answered without enthusiasm. And that is what makes her all the more terrifying … “She could even sway to her side a dangerous criminal mage, what else is impossible?” His eyes narrowed with suspicion. A little spark of anger tinged the black pupils.
“That, again?” Verossa asked, exasperated. “Do you want me to repeat the same thing, Chrono?”
Chrono sighed. “You’re right, Verossa. I’m sorry.” He rubbed his face with his hands, trying to shake off his unbidden emotions. He blinked a few times, as if the motion could help clear his head. It helped, a little.
Verossa looked at Chrono intently before speaking again. “Well, in any case, you brought up a good point. It could be a problem if von Khrull decides that criminal mages might endanger the people.”
Chrono smiled at that, the first genuine smile he had had since the past three days. His mood looked better. “You know what my answer will be, Verossa. We went through it the last time we met with Gaiz.”
“Oh, you’re going to use that line again?” the inspector asked, chuckling.
“Why not?” Chrono grinned deviously. “It worked like a charm previously. I don’t see how it shouldn’t this time.”
* * * * *
When Inspector Acous left the office later, Chrono sat back on the chair at his working desk. He stared out of the window at the constellation of stars, their lights shimmering like diamonds in the blackness of the universe. His mind drifted to Leona, his past history with her unfolding like petals of a rose blossom.
To have the two of us bound again after so long …
… Is this what they call fate?
Spoiler for Scene II:
[Residential Area, Cranagan City] [January 21st, MC 081] [0901 hours]
To have the two of us bound again after so long …
… Is this what they call fate?
Leona sat alone in her room, morning sunshine filtering in through the windows covered with soft, white curtains. Her expression was solemn, her eyes grave. Her lips were opened slightly, trembling despite the warmth. The usual radiance she had had vanished, replaced by a pale whiteness that made her looked eerie. The clock showed 9:01 AM. She had been awake three hours prior, her mind in deep consternation.
We have not met for two years, Chrono-kun. It was such a surprise that day.
She brought her knees toward her, and wrapped her arms gently around them for support as she rested her chin on the apex.
Your face, your nose, your eyes … they have not changed much. You seemed well.
She smiled slightly at the thought. Her memory of his features was still fresh, the past image superimposed upon the present.
Until you met me.
Her smile disappeared, and her lips became a thin line of deep somber. She closed her eyes, her mind still thinking of her meeting with the Admiral.
You have not forgiven me, for your eyes burned with the same intense fire when you have discovered what I have done.
A light tremor spread throughout her body as she suppressed a sob. The remembrance rent her heart as if razor-sharp blades had pierced it, the sweet memory becoming a ghastly nightmare that she did not want to witness. Physical pain had eluded her a very long time ago, but the emotional torment was inescapable. Memories of the past buried within the depths of her mind resurfaced, bringing with them new waves of agony and pain, and tears fell from her eyes.
What must I do to douse the flames of hate from your heart, and to return to the happy days we’ve all shared together?
What must I do to make you touch me again with warmth and compassion, not disgust and revulsion?
What must I do to make you smile again with sincerity, not spite?
What must I do …?
And the questions repeated themselves over and over in her mind, forming a slow swirl that eventually became a raging maelstrom, and her sob intensified into genuine cry. For the past two years, she had built, with painstaking effort, a fortress in which she had sealed her emotions away, effectively isolating her innermost feelings and desires from ever touching the surface of her mind.
At the same time, it had made her an indifferent zombie wearing the flesh of a human. She cloaked herself heavily with an aura of insensitivity, of apathy, even though her mind screamed for the enlightening touch of human emotions. Her laughter, her smiles, her cries—they were all fakes; they were reflexive reactions of what she remembered of the expressions she previously had, used effectively when in the presence of others. Even when she had met the three Aces again—a supposedly happy reunion after two years of separation—the smiles she wore were a pretense that was conjured up naturally by her instinct, a frontal image for a deadened person to fool people.
Her three comrades knew how much it must have pained her to choose this path, being thrust in the world of living devoid of any attachment or feeling. They knew that she cared for them, that she attempted to express it without straining herself, but in the end, it was too much of a burden for one whose emotions were frozen like glacier. Her face would twitch and twist as she tried to, the effort to summon the feelings from the wasteland of sensations creasing her forehead in deep lines and causing her to sweat profusely. Even a small smile would tax her such that she could collapse.
It was something that no one sane would want to do, but she did nonetheless, for it was her feelings that brought about the quandary she was currently facing.
It was a sacrifice she willing took after her mistake with Chrono.
Yet, the meeting three days past had brought about a change she did not expect in her. Her reunion with the only person who could evoke powerful sensations within her—Chrono Harlaown—caused a huge tremor within the sanctuary she had created to protect herself and the people around her. The quake began crumbling the defenses she had in place, and her frozen emotions reached silently, slowly, deliberately, their unfamiliar touch exhilarating and, at same time, painful. The anguish was unbearable, and her temples throbbed rapidly.
Her desires, long asleep, awoke from their restless slumber, and began slamming themselves against the walls of the fortress, impatient for release. Little by little, they began to work themselves loose from the chains that bind them … breaking through the barricades … running past the sentries … their hands stretching for the open threshold of her mind, keen to be out in the sun-filled surface of the mortal world …
Remember yourself, Leona …
At the final moment, the threshold of her mind closed, the massive gates slammed shut, sealing the overeager emotions once again in the wintry fortress that was her mind. And she further reinforced the fortress by additional layers of walls, heavier chains, stronger barricades, and more powerful sentries; her emotions, sensing the danger of her fierce determination, retreated back slowly into the bowels of the fortress, biding their time …
Remember yourself, Leona …
The mantra worked: her body stopped trembling, the throbbing of her temples subsided, and her pain began to lessen. The emotional drive she felt much earlier trickled out until it vanished, and she stopped crying, though her face was streaked with the last of her tears. She dried them off with a hand. Trying to forget what had happened just now, she looked around. The clock showed 9:27 AM.
It was past breakfast time. Kratos, Gabriel, and Xeno should be up and about by now, though she did not feel much like joining them; they would understand. Without much to do, she looked out of the window.
A flock of white doves flew past, dancing in the spring air. They heeded no restrictions, feared no retributions, enjoying the freedom of their lives. Leona longed for their delight, desiring to release herself from the bindings that incarcerate her, but those were unattainable dreams for one such as her.
Another dove soared after her flock, and a single white feather fell from its wing. Gliding slowly on the draft, it fell into Leona’s cupped hands. Somehow, the single feather stirred her memories again, though it was a far different memory that what she had remembered just now.
Remember yourself, Leona …
Those were the words of her mother.
Remember who you are.
A single white feather had also fallen then, into Leona’s cupped hands, just as it had been now.
You carry the future of many in your hands, Leona. I am saddened that you have to shoulder such a heavy burden when you least expect it, but such is the working of fate. It grieves me that you are not given a choice but to follow what destiny has put into place for you. If it had been in my powers to prevent it, I would, but alas, I couldn’t.
Remember yourself, Leona.
A second white pinion fell atop the first, its touch soft and light.
As the wheel of fate turns and the river of time flows, you will eventually have to face your ultimate destiny. You are the child that is blessed and also cursed; you stand equal among the God and the Devil.
Then, a third one was in her hands. She looked up, seeing a horizon of white blankness.
When that time comes, you will be given your very first, and also your very last, choice to make. At that moment, fate shall reserve its whimsical tamper and destiny shall relinquish its hold on you.
In a matter of seconds, innumerable feathers enveloped her view, such that she was forced to raise her hands to shield her eyes. The voice of her mother became softer and more fleeting as she spoke:
Choose well, my daughter, for your choice is the crux of all that will ever be: whether you will become a redeemer … or the harbinger of destruction for a world.
Spoiler for Scene III:
[Ground Forces Headquarters, Cranagan City] [January 21st, MC 081] [1418 hours]
Chrono stood silently in an elevator beside an aide who was supposed to direct him to the Lieutenant-General’s office. The aide, a bespectacled middle-aged man, looked at him with a sense of awe and trepidation. When Chrono had arrived earlier, he had been skeptical of his position when he asked to be brought to the office.
The aide was even haughty enough to call Chrono a “liar”, believing that he was too young to become an Admiral and was impersonating to be one by wearing the navy-blue uniform and threatening to send him to prison unless he desisted in insisting that he was an Admiral. Chrono was vastly irritated by then that he even contemplated brandishing Durandal in a government building, only to remember that devices were not allowed unless he was in service. It was not until another officer came and solved the confusion that the aide was forced to believe that he was really an Admiral. The fiasco had caused unnecessary delays, and Chrono was persnickety when punctuality was concerned.
It really has changed a lot since Gaiz’s last rule.
He had reached the Ground Force Headquarters half an hour earlier. Entering the towering black monstrosity some dubbed to be the “Pillar of Law”, he was greeted by armed personnel who had checked him thoroughly for hidden weapons or metallic objects that were confiscated if found. Chrono knew that the entire building was surrounded by a powerful barrier against external enemy attacks and a state-of-the-art surveillance system within that would send an entire battalion of internal sentry units down to arrest him if he triggered anything unnecessary. Hidden automatic defense systems lay in wait for those that unwittingly enter their territories without proper identification. After the incident with Gaiz, the security had just become even tighter, with guards flanking the many doors lining the uncountable corridors in the headquarters.
The Ground Force Headquarters is one of the largest and grandest among all the military bases on Mid-childa, Chrono mused. Ironically, it is also the most costly and most targeted among the others, particularly because of the many secrets it harbors.
“Floor 48,” an electronic intercom sounded, announcing their arrival at the level that housed the Lieutenant-General’s office. The doors slid open soundlessly, and both Chrono and aide walked out of the elevator. The aide walked ahead with him following behind, turned a corner and up a short set of stairs, turned to his left at the end of a long corridor, and then stopped before an open area with a double door made of hardwood set against the far wall. The aide passed his hand in front of him, which revealed a hidden intercom with several buttons.
The new Lieutenant-General does not sit too well with direct communication screens, it seems, Chrono thought with a small smile. Of course, unless authorized personally. That means that he doesn’t trust his staff too deeply, even after five years.
The aide touched a button on the screen and spoke to it: “I am sorry for intruding, General, but Admiral Harlaown requests an audience.”
There was a moment’s silence before a reply was given. “Let him in,” a gruff, stern voice said over from the intercom.
The aide passed his hand over the screen, dismissing the intercom, and walked Chrono to the double doors. When they reached the doors, he bowed at Chrono, muttered an apology for his rudeness earlier, and quickly left without even waiting for Chrono’s reply. Chrono was still thinking about the strangeness of the aide’s behavior as he knocked lightly on the doors.
Was he afraid that I might tell the Lieutenant-General about it and cause him to get demoted, or worse, get his service terminated?
He did not think much further on the issue when a muffled voice from beyond the doors bid him enter, and he did just that. The doors opened to reveal a large office where the wall directly opposite the doors was essentially several ceiling-high windows set together, which allowed one to look over at the capital city. Plenty of sunlight filtered in through the transparent windows, which sufficiently illuminated the interior. Shelves after shelves of books and files stood like ancient sentinels at the side walls.
At the far end of the room was a dark teakwood desk, varnished to shining quality. Several books and a stack of paper sat at one edge of the desk, and that was about all that was on it. There was little, if nothing, of aesthetics in the room—not even a vase of flowers or a frame of picture. It was a room tailored specifically for vocation and work, nothing else mattered. The space radiated an overwhelming sense of command, authority, and control.
Sitting behind the desk was the figure of a formally-dressed stocky man with close-cropped hair. His elbows were propped on the desk, supporting an arch of gloved hands clasped together such that it hid the lower part of his face, leaving only a pair of eyes visible.
A pair of strong, penetrating eyes that gaze through flesh directly into the heart.
He was Lieutenant-General Leonidas von Khrull.
Chrono felt the intensity of the Lieutenant-General’s gaze, the trenchant eyes trying to bore into his thoughts with utter ruthlessness. Though startled, Chrono managed to hide his astonishment well, masking his expression behind a façade of neutrality. He walked in slowly, the keen eyes following his motion, and the doors closed automatically behind him, trapping him in a suffocating cage of authority. Still, Chrono braced himself and continued to walk until he was several steps before reaching the desk. Then, he made a formal salute at the Lieutenant-General.
“Lieutenant-General von Khrull,” Chrono said politely.
He did not reply, merely continued to stare fixedly with those unblinking eyes. Now that he was close, Chrono could see a thin line that streaked from the edge of his forehead to a little ways below his left eye.
A trophy of war, a scar from his previous battles.
By the Bureau’s standard, Chrono’s rank as the Admiral of the Naval Fleet was higher than that of Leonidas von Khrull’s own as a Lieutenant-General, and as such, his silence could be deemed as an act of disrespect and a breach of propriety. For one who was iron-fisted about rules and regulations, Leonidas seemed reluctant to address one who was younger than he was as someone who possessed a higher rank. Leonidas was bristling visibly and his temples seemed to pulse. Though Chrono would not have tried to impose his rank upon him, it seemed that the Lieutenant-General had already formed a preliminary idea about Chrono’s character for him to hold such an opinion about the Admiral.
Very slowly, the Lieutenant-General arose from his high-backed chair, the arch of hands disappeared as he pulled his hands apart. Leonidas was a large man, two times the size of the lean Admiral, with streaks of gray coloring the short dark hair. His girth blotted out the sunlight from behind him as he reached his full height, throwing Chrono’s vision momentarily into gray dimness. With a rigid stiffness that was not missed by Chrono’s keen eyes, he gave a salute, though his eyes remained as hard as agate.
“Admiral Harlaown,” he muttered slowly, his stern voice raspy. There was the beat of several silent moments before he continued, “Pleased to meet you.” His temples throbbed again.
Chrono smiled despite himself. It seems that old habits die hard, he mused. Chrono inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment as he replied, “Pleased to meet you as well, General.”
Without so much as a word, he gestured roughly at the pair of chairs in front of his desk. Again, Chrono inclined his head, and, holding the Lieutenant-General to his own behavior, took a seat without a word.
Then, Chrono’s eyes met Leonidas’s, deep emerald staring into dark onyx, and the battle was begun.
Long moments passed between the two, each holding the other in his unyielding gaze, words unnecessary to describe the fearsome war that was waged in a battlefield transcending that of the physical world. It was a battle of faith, of strength, of character, between the two men, the shattering impacts of the blows they exchanged unwatchable for those that did not share their zeal. To outsiders, it was as if the Admiral and the Lieutenant-General had been dead, rooted in their seats; for them, their bodies pumped blood furiously as their life hung in the teetering balance between victory and defeat.
Seconds became minutes, minutes turning into hour, and …
The Lieutenant-General faltered. Leonidas averted his dark eyes, admitting defeat. He shook his head to clear his mind, and rubbed his temples to soothe the pain. Chrono could still continue, but out of discretion, he thought it better to close his eyes momentarily, as if he had suffered a damaging blow as well.
Leonidas did not miss the action, and he spoke. “You are awfully humble, Admiral Harlaown,” he said, his stern voice edgy, but not without prudence. After the experience with Chrono, the Lieutenant-General found himself perceiving the Admiral in a new light, a mixed feeling of awe and wariness.
“Not at all,” Chrono replied, smiling. “It was splendidly done on your side as well, General,” he continued.
Leonidas watched him for a few moments longer, appraising the Admiral again, and then laughed. It was a peculiar expression, coming from the severe Lieutenant-General, akin to something stuck in between a roar and a chuckle. “You are an interesting man, Admiral. Very interesting,” he said after his mirth died down, a strange twinkle in his eyes.
“I take that as a compliment,” Chrono answered, smiling again. It seemed that the Lieutenant-General was not as harsh as one would expect him to be, but Chrono was still not taking chances.
“Anyway,” Leonidas continued, disregarding Chrono’s remark. His composure regained to its former gravity. “For an Admiral of the famed Dimensional Naval Fleet to come down personally to the Headquarters for the Ground Forces, I expect you to have something important to discuss.” He clasped his hands again in the familiar arch, his eyes intent.
Chrono nodded. “Yes, I do. A proposition, actually.”
Leonidas did not reply, and Chrono took it to be a cue for him to continue. Without wasting time, he explained the plan to create a defense unit on Mid-childa, its members, some of its objectives, and what were the unit’s primary actions, though he was careful to give a wide berth when mentioning the warning, the attacks on the labs, their suspicions of the enemy’s intents, and what their plans were. In fact, Chrono gave only sufficient information to cover what Leonidas needed to know and approve of, nothing more or less.
All this while, the Lieutenant-General listened while his dark eyes searched and probed for hints of things that the Admiral unwittingly let out without his own knowledge. Chrono did not, and he was clearly disappointed by the crestfallen look on his aged face. Still, he was not giving up, and so, he cleared his throat for the retort.
“What you propose, Admiral, is noteworthy and interesting, but unfortunately dubious in nature. You know the rules; I cannot approve unless everything is straightened out,” he said. “Of course, I understand your concern for the safety of the citizens of Mid-childa, but I should think that the Ground Forces would be more than enough to deal with this threat that you speak of.”
Chrono was ready. “Need I remind you, General, that the same thing was uttered to me by one who previously held the office you now sit in?”
Leonidas flushed at the implication and slammed a large fist onto the desk, upsetting a neat stack of files. With a livid face, his teeth gritted in anger, he said, “How dare you—”
But, Chrono raised a placating hand and cut across him before he could rebuke. “Peace now, General. I’m not insinuating that the Forces would not be able to deal with this threat. In fact, I believe they could, but I think it wiser that a large force is not mobilized just for this alone.”
Chrono thought for a moment before continuing. “It sends the unmistakable wave of suspicion among the local populace if the Forces answer the call-to-arms in such a manner, and sooner or later, they would panic and fear things that are not made apparent to them. I dread to think what such bedlam would cause, and to what end it would serve.” He looked at Leonidas then. “True, the Forces would be required, but not now. The least we could do at the moment is to keep them safe, and I deem the Ground Forces most suitable to ensure peace and order are in place while we investigate the matter.”
Leonidas was deep in thought, digesting what Chrono had just told him. Though it was difficult to swallow, the Lieutenant-General did, for he did not have a suitable retort. Instead, he took another front to assault. “But, the unit you just proposed contains more Navy personnel than necessary. If anyone was to say anything, it seems that the Navy wants to interfere with the affairs of the Ground.”
“‘Interfere’ is a harsh word, General,” Chrono said, smiling. “I prefer to use ‘cooperate’, since it is the intention for the creation of the unit to be so. The unit will work closely with the Ground and Air Forces, collaborating where necessary and sharing information as available. Hopefully, it would receive the same reciprocation that is imperative for its operations.”
“You did not answer the first, Admiral,” Leonidas countered, narrowing his eyes dangerously.
“Because it was invalid,” Chrono replied smoothly.
“What?” Leonidas said roughly, his mouth twisted in a snarl. His left eye twitched, and the scar seemed to jump to live as he did so.
“If you have listened carefully, General, the units compose of members from various Forces. Most of the members come from Special Investigations and Air Forces, and some from the Intelligence. Only a small fraction of them are Navy personnel, the two most notable ones include my sister, Captain of the Enforcers Fate Testarossa Harlaown, and a Trainee Enforcer named Teana Lanster. If your opposition to the formation of the unit stems from this issue, I say that it is void.”
“It is well-known that the Intelligence Department works for the Navy, and that makes the number of Navy personnel more than is allowable!” Leonidas spat.
“Works closely with the Navy, yes. Works for, I beg to differ,” Chrono replied calmly. “Let’s not be mistaken, General, the Intelligence is a neutral department that all Forces have claim to. The information they have is essential and shared, and depending on the situation, they may seem to have a tendency to supply more information to any particular Force. On this front, the Navy requires more information than the other Forces because of the difference in the magnitude of missions they handle.”
Chrono added, “Of course, you can argue that the Ground Force has its share of large-scale missions. I daresay that the information it received was, and still is, as good as before, if not better? The Special Investigations, an example of a department in affiliation with the Ground Forces, works using the information given by the department in contest, no?”
Leonidas was furious; he had lost the two most potential grounds to turn the proposition around. “You are articulate, Admiral, if I do say so myself. But, you know little of who I am.”
“Do I, now?” Chrono answered, raising a suggestive eyebrow with a bemused expression on his face.
The Admiral’s calmness was disturbing, and his ability to present information with a stunning magniloquence was unnerving the Lieutenant-General very much. He had not met any worthy rival who could best him in debating on the soundness of rules.
Not since the female who inadvertently foiled his rise to the position of Lieutenant-General …
Last edited by PhoenixFlare; 2008-02-23 at 03:24.
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