May 30, 9 ATC

City of Guns N' Roses, Duchy of Gunnia, Kingdom of Guns and Roses

Why?

That was the question Austin was faced with, constantly, for two days. Why? Why did she turn her back on Nitesco? Why did she join the Church? Why did she stay behind? She had a different answer for everyone who asked.

It was Jannis, the first time. She knelt at his feet and she answered plainly: she wanted an end to the fighting. That was what all war was about, wasn't it? To stop the bloodshed as quickly and cleanly as possible. At least, that's what good men fought for. There were few, if any, good men left to fight this war.

Next, it was Zissman. He took her aside and sat her down, and she was in awe of his beautiful white robes and his immaculate scarlet cape. His words, too, were beautiful: he soothed her and asked his questions with a soft voice and gentle words while Anti looked on. Austin admitted to him that she was concerned for the common good of the Subreddit, and she told him she believed the Church was the best road to the fulfillment of that common good. Zissman smiled and nodded and thanked her for her time and service, and he took Anti outside the room discussed. She could hear bits and pieces of their conversation through the walls (...seems to be sincere… we'll see how it goes…) and decided they were good things to hear.

But most of all, she heard from herself. When she was alone, not being bombarded by the questions of the higher-ups or the suspicious glances of the rank-and-file, she would ask herself different questions. Was what she was doing wise? Would it pay off in the end? Would she be remembered as a traitor? The questions swam in her head, and only sleep warded them off.

But she could not be distracted by questions, Austin told herself. Doubt was a cruel mistress, and she would do herself no good wondering on what might have been. Besides, Zissman had called a meeting for his officers, and according to a very curt messenger, he now counted Austin among that number.

Austin walked across the marble-paved roads of the capitol hill, which, unlike the rest of the city roads, had remained mostly free of blood or damage. A few Church soldiers milled about, minding their own business for once and paying no attention to her. A welcome respite, she thought.

"Austin!" Someone called. Austin huffed. So much for the respite.

She turned around and saw Faker and Anti walking toward her. Faker waved at her to stop while Anti walked silently beside him, her hands in her jacket pockets. Austin waited for them to catch up to her.

"Lord Faker. Lady Anti." Austin gave a proper bow. "I don't believe we've properly met."

"Then it's good we're finally meeting," Anti said. She gave Austin a smile. "You were well-spoken at the Diet, however long ago that was. I'm pleased to finally have the chance to meet you in person."

"I as well," Faker said. "You're a damn fine general. Perhaps you'd make a good politician as well, seeing as how you went from commoner to commander in a mere two weeks."

"Faker!" Anti scolded. She sighed. "Forgive him. Sometimes he forgets to bite his tongue around new people."

"Oh, it's no worry," Austin said politely. "I've known plenty of men like him. Though never for long."

Faker squinted at her, unsure of whether or not that was a jest or a threat, until he saw her smile. He returned it in kind, laughing boisterously at her gall.

"Ah, a sharp sword and a sharp tongue!" Faker snorted again. "And to think I thought you'd be some boring, uptight pedant. Perhaps I was wrong." He took a step back. "Unfortunately, I've got work to do, so I must cut our little meet-and-greet short. Anti, see her to the meeting room. I have some business to attend to with my generals before I can make it."

"It's been a pleasure," Austin said. Faker gave a dramatic bow before turning around and wandering off. Beside her, Anti scoffed.

"The fool's been lax on his acting lessons lately," she commented. Austin gave her a look.

"Is he always like that?" she asked. Anti sighed.

"It's just bluster," Anti said. "Once he figures out whether or not he likes you, he'll drop the act. He did the same thing to Jannis and me when we first met. Now, come." Anti resumed walking to the Manor, while Austin followed.

"Tell me about the others," Austin said. "Zissman, Jannis, Draco. What are they like?"

Anti shrugged. "Draco's the oddest of all of them," she said in a tense voice. "Totally devoted to Zissman's religion. When he's not training, he's praying, and he barely takes off that helmet of his, even when he sleeps. Gives me the creeps."

"I can't blame you," Austin said, bitter. "What about Jannis and Zissman? Where do they fit into things?"

"Jannis is the commander of the Church's armed forces," Anti said, her tone relaxing. "He's devout, but he's not as much of a zealot. Mostly, he keeps to himself. He's a capable strategist and an outstanding warrior, and he holds honor in high regard. But do be careful around him. He's innately suspicious of every non-Outlander, and it will be difficult to get him to trust you."

"You and Faker did it," Austin said, wearing an uneasy grin. "I'm sure I can get him to like me too."

"We'll see if you have the charm for it," Anti said, smiling. "You must have made a good impression, at least, to have reached this point." They entered the foyer of the Badaz Manor and began walking up a flight of stairs.

"And what of Zissman?" Austin asked. Anti pursed her lips.

"Zissman is the leader of the Church of Thorns and, by virtue of their promotion to state church, the new heir of the Subreddit. He's an excellent orator and I do think he truly believes in his faith. But he has taken to Subreddit intrigue with… enthusiasm."

"And what does that imply?" Austin asked.

Anti's lip twitched, but her expression remained blank. "Perhaps," she whispered, "his Goddess's rule is not the only one he seeks to uphold anymore. But not a whisper to anyone else of that."

Austin nodded, absorbing the information. Anti seemed confident in her assessments, but could she be trusted? She decided to save such questions for later and focus on getting the meeting over with.

Anti and Austin arrived in the war room on the second floor, the same one she had been in only a few days prior. Jannis and Zissman already sat at the table and had strewn Church banners across the room, but they had left most of it unchanged. Nitesco's maps remained where he had left them, and the ink Nitesco knocked over that night had dried on the table and the floor. Upon seeing the two of them, Zissman rose and smiled warmly.

"Anti." He turned to Austin and extended his hand. "And of course, the esteemed commander Austin. A pleasure to finally get the chance to work with you."

Austin uneasily shook Zissman's hand, not moved by his smile. "Likewise," she said. Zissman either didn't notice her discomfort, or else he didn't care. He let go of her hand and sat, beckoning for her to do the same.

"I see that you've already met Anti," Zissman observed. "And I believe that you've already met Jannis, correct?"

Austin looked over at Jannis, but he was lost in thought and gave only a grunt in reply. "Yes," she said, turning back to Zissman. "We had a… discussion during the battle. He helped me realize that there would never be peace if we continued resisting the law."

Jannis looked up at that and gave her a small nod. Zissman's smile grew even wider and he turned to Jannis. "Well," he said. "A most unexpected surprise. I didn't think you were much for conversion."

"I have my moments," Jannis said, but he remained impassive. A knock on the door interrupted their conversation, and Faker and Draco walked in.

"I hope we didn't keep you waiting," Faker said in a tone that suggested he didn't care. He took a seat next to Anti at the far end of the table. Draco sat down next to Jannis, scrutinizing Austin in a way that made her uncomfortable.

"It's no worry," Zissman said. "I was just getting acquainted with our newest recruit. Austin, have you met Faker and Draco?"

"I talked a bit with Faker earlier," Austin said, keeping her eyes on Draco the whole time. "And Draco…" she took care to control her voice, keeping calm. "I saw him during the battle too."

Draco squinted at her from beneath his helmet, but grunted and leaned back. "Enough introductions," he demanded. "Let's get down to business."

"Very well," Zissman said, and he began shuffling Nitesco's maps around. "Now, to defeat the Badaz League, we must kill their commanders. Without a base of operations, Nitesco is vulnerable. We must strike before they have a chance to regroup and retrench."

"And what do you suggest?" Faker asked.

"Nitesco, I believe, is looking to find a new base of operations farther north. He was gracious enough to leave his maps behind." Zissman passed the map on which Nitesco had marked new potential bases. While the others examined the maps, Austin merely shook her head. Nitesco had been very foolish to leave them behind.

"The two potential locations are in the realms of Duke McDouggal of Milk and Cereal and King Dat of Freezerburn," Zissman said. "If they successfully negotiate with them, then we will be back at square one, so intercepting them is of the essence. Austin!"

Austin snapped to attention and met Zissman's gaze. "Yes, Scion?"

"You know Nitesco better than anyone here," he said. "Where is he likely to go?"

Austin felt the room watching her and took a second to calm herself. She looked at the map, staring at the two red x's on it. Where would Nitesco go?

"Nitesco prefers to keep his options open," she said. "He doesn't like having only one way to go. It's more likely that he'll split his men and send half to each location. That way, he has a backup plan."

Zissman nodded and stroked his beard, assessing the situation. "He'd have to divide his forces," he said.

"True," Jannis said. "But we'll also have to divide our forces if we're to catch up with him. Plus, he has a head start, and our men are needed on other fronts as well."

Zissman scowled and leaned over the table. Austin could see him calculating his options, the risks, and the rewards.

"Jannis," he said. "Do we have many colonies in Freezerburn territory?"

"We do," Jannis said. "Few other places in Rubia have as many converts as that kingdom."

"We can leverage that." Zissman pointed at Anti. "Your nation borders Freezerburn, yes?" She nodded.

"I want you to go there with Jannis. Take a platoon of our best men. If you, ah, negotiate correctly, you shouldn't need much more."

"And if Nitesco arrives first?" Anti asked.

"He'll have to travel mostly through hostile territory. You won't. You should arrive ahead of him." Zissman turned to Austin.

"Austin, you've done business with King McDouggal, have you not?"

"I have, Scion," she said. He nodded.

"Then I want you to go with Faker to confront McDouggal. I understand he's staunchly neutral, but disobeying us would mean treason. If he won't bend…" Zissman's eyes narrowed at Austin, betraying a cruelty she hadn't seen in him before. "Break him."

Faker clapped. "It will be done." Austin shifted in her seat.

"And what about me?" Draco asked. "What will I do?"

"You will travel with me to Beis, where the Diet was held. Bumblebee is in the midst of a civil war because of our actions, and I wish to supervise our victory there personally. You will also bring our guest along, when he wakes."

"Guest?" Austin asked. "What guest?"

Zissman smiled at her. "Oh, my dear," he said. "You didn't hear? Colonel Strike is alive."

Austin gaped. Strike was alive? She had been certain he was killed at the docks. But if he was alive, there was no question that the Church would use him. She swallowed.

"Where is he, then?"

Jannis shook his head. "He's still comatose. We dragged him off the shore yesterday morning. He hasn't woken yet."

"But when he does," Zissman said, with an eager glint in his eye, "he will become a messenger of the Church, as we all have. But you have a more important task: stop Nitesco from finding his footing. Extend our blessings and our friendship to these rulers. But remember." His voice dropped to almost a whisper, and he looked straight at Austin with fury in his eyes. "If they defy me, they defy the Church entire. You would do well to remind them of that."

"Yes, Scion," they said in unison.

"Jannis," Zissman said. "With me. I must talk with you. The rest of you may leave."

They did as they were told, giving a small bow before departing. As Austin made her way down the stairs, Faker caught up to her and walked beside her.

"So, what do you think of your first official Coalition meeting?" he asked. Faker studied her intently, the way Gwydion studied his machines. It made her uneasy.

"Nothing I haven't gone through before," she said. "Draco caught my attention, though. He seemed… familiar, somehow."

Faker's expression darkened, and he looked away. "Best not to ask," he said. Austin nodded and decided to change the subject.

"When do we depart for Milk and Cereal?" she asked.

Faker shrugged. "Maybe two or three days. I think we'll march north to Ladybug with Anti and Jannis and then ferry across the Canon River from there. We'll dock in Lancaster and march the rest of the way." He paused. "I understand you were close to McDouggal, once."

"I wouldn't say close," Austin said. No, not close at all, she thought. But he was still a good man. Worse, he was a stubborn man. The odds of him going quietly into the night were slim at best. "But I won't take any pleasure in killing him."

"What makes you think it'll come to that?" Faker asked. He was testing her, no doubt about it. She grumbled to herself.

"We wouldn't be bringing so many soldiers along if you thought it wouldn't," she said. Faker laughed, a quick snort out the nose, and smiled.

"True. You're smarter than I thought you'd be. Perhaps you'll be useful after all." He turned to leave.

"I'm… flattered?" Austin answered. Faker chuckled.

"Oh, don't blush," he jested. "We haven't even seen if I'm right yet. I hope I am. For all our sakes." His point made, he wandered off, and Austin was alone.

She turned to face the castle, which now had the banners of the Church of Thorns hanging from its walls. White standards emblazoned with the red outline of a rose decorated every entrance. Austin felt her face tense a little.

"Yes," she said. "For all our sakes."

"He is not yet conscious?"

Zissman prodded Strike's face again, but Strike remained unresponsive. Jannis stood in the doorway, watching as Zissman tried and failed to elicit a response from their comatose Colonel. The doctor, a city native they had forcibly conscripted, tapped his fingers together nervously.

"No, sir," the doctor said. He ran his hands through his receding hairline. "He hasn't moved at all since he was brought in yesterday. We've been feeding him water and honey, but he can't live that way forever. Eventually, he will waste away."

Zissman pursed his lips and patted Strike on the cheek. Once again, there was no response.

"I will give him a week," he declared. "No more. If he doesn't wake by then, smother him."

"I—" The doctor began to object, but a cold stare from Zissman was enough to silence him. "Yes, sir," the doctor finished.

"Good." Zissman smiled and patted the uneasy doctor on the back. "You should get back to your patient. Jannis, with me." Jannis watched the doctor fret over his patient as Zissman walked out. He shook his head and followed, closing the door on the way.

"I do hope he awakens," Zissman said as they walked through the Manor. "He could be very useful. When he learns that Zealander betrayed him and left him to die… yes. Very useful indeed."

Jannis could feel the satisfaction in Zissman's voice, and it made him frown. "Strike is comatose," he said. "I say we just slit his throat and add his body to the piles."

Zissman stopped and turned around, a wistful smile on his face. "Oh, but Jannis!" he said. "Think of what he could offer us! More information on enemy tactics and strength. Plus, having not one but two defecting commanders would cripple the League's morale."

"He's still an enemy," Jannis said, unmoved. "And much more stubborn than Austin. There's no use keeping him alive."

"You converted Austin," Zissman pointed out.

"Austin was wishy-washy," Jannis retorted. "Too idealistic for her own good. It was easy to get under her skin. This one's principled. And he's only a Colonel. I doubt he'll be much use to us."

"Jannis," Zissman said, his smile fading ever so slightly. "You know I of all people can change a man's mind. What is this really about?"

Jannis sighed and cast a backwards glance at Strike's room. "I disagree with manipulating a gravely injured man to do our bidding." His thoughts wandered to Draco, who was now ever at Zissman's side unless he was in battle. What the Scion saw in that creature, Jannis had no idea. "I find it distasteful."

"Distasteful?" Zissman said the word with a sour note. "Jannis, this is war. Bad things happen in war; you of all people should know that. What is the harm in converting one or two men?" That cunning grin of his appeared on Zissman's face again. "It's in service to the Goddess. We are doing her will; will she not forgive us for that?"

"No one man knows the Goddess's will," Jannis said.

Zissman bobbed his head side to side, as if considering Jannis's words. "True," he conceded. "No one man can fathom the whole truth. But I am her Scion, Jannis. If anyone is close to understanding, it is I."

Seeing Jannis remained unconvinced, Zissman sighed and placed his hand on Jannis's shoulder. "My friend, I understand your doubts. I had them too, at one point. But we must trust that we are doing her will, and she will reward us for bringing these heathen lands into her domain."

"Yes," Jannis said. He sighed. "I understand."

"Good," Zissman whispered. "Begin preparing your men for the mission to Freezerburn. Let me worry about Colonel Strike." With a final nod, Zissman disappeared into the corridors of the Manor.

Jannis clutched the pendant around his neck; an image of the Gold Maiden, Patroness of the Church Militant. Perhaps what Zissman was doing was the Goddess's will. But it didn't feel like it.

Jannis sighed and grunted. Such contemplation would have to wait; he had a mission to complete. He turned around and began walking away, to return to his camps and inform his officers of their new assignments. As he passed Strike's room, he gave one more backwards glance, perhaps out of pity, perhaps out of disappointment. He gave it little more thought as he walked out the door.

May 30, 9 ATC

A refugee camp in the Gun Mountains

Nitesco sat in his tent, fiddling with the rag in his hand, thinking. His prosthetic leg had been creaking and shifting since they had arrived in the cold mountains, and he hoped that a quick cleaning would fix it. If not, he had sullied a perfectly good rag with soot for nothing.

It had been two days since they arrived in the mountains, and those two days had been a crisis. The refugee camp, which had been set up and maintained by a skeleton crew for several years, was now overrun with displaced civilians. There was more than enough food to sustain them until they could find a new home, but the stress of it all was wearing on his people as much as it was wearing on Nitesco. More than once he had been accosted by a large crowd of his people, jeering and threatening him, and he had decided that staying in his tent was better for his safety.

His army was in little better shape. Nitesco had not been able to get most of his forces away from the city, and so the forces under his direct command had been decimated. Not only had this crippled morale, but it crippled his army's confidence in him as a leader, especially after Austin had been left behind.

Nitesco set aside the rag and sighed, deciding to ignore the squeaking noise his leg made when he stepped on it too hard. As he leaned his head back to take a nap, he heard a knock on his tent.

"Come in," he grumbled. At once, Opifexa entered into the tent, followed by Gwydion and, with some difficulty, Vulpix. They each, without invitation, took a seat near him, and Nitesco sat up in his chair.

"The troops grow restless," Vulpix said. "And demoralized. Two consecutive defeats, along with most of their old friends dead. We cannot stay here forever."

"I am aware of that," Nitesco said, his voice grating with frustration. "And we have a plan, remember? Contact McDouggal and Dat and see if they can offer us shelter."

"If we have a plan, why aren't we executing it?" Gwydion asked, frustrated. "We've been sitting here for two days! How many days will the Church waste before it comes after us again? We can't just sit here. We must act!"

"It isn't just the Church, Nitesco," Opifexa said, oddly calm. "It's the civilians too. They cannot live here forever. We have to find them permanent settlements north of the mountains."

Nitesco sighed and leaned forward. They were right, of course. He couldn't sit here and brood on his losses. They needed a plan.

"Vulpix," he said. Vulpix shifted so he wasn't leaning on his crutches. "Take your men and the Renorans and return to Arkos. If our reports from Arkos are true, we need all the soldiers we can muster on that front. Fortify Fort Jaunerrha, just in case both of our options fall through."

"It will be done," Vulpix said. "But we will have to move quickly. The Church will move to seize the rivers as soon as possible."

"Then move quickly," Nitesco said, perhaps too harshly. Vulpix frowned. "Opifexa, I will grant you command of what remains of my soldiers. Guide the refugees as far north as you can. As soon as possible, though, have someone else finish the resettlement process and come join us in Arkos. We need all our commanders on deck."

Opifexa said nothing, but nodded. Nitesco turned to Gwydion.

"Gwydion, you will travel north with Opifexa. As soon as you can, break off and head to Enabler. Contramundi will provide you with troops. From there, make your way north to Freezerburn to parlay with King Dat."

"Yes, sir," Gwydion said.

"I myself will take my private guard and travel to Milk and Cereal to treat with McDouggal," Nitesco said. "I'll rendezvous as soon as I have news from him."

"You mean to travel all that way with only a few guards?" Opifexa asked. "Very bold. Too bold."

"Duke McDouggal is a suspicious man," Nitesco said. "He will not respond well to a full armed force. But to be safe, I will travel to Lancaster and make my way north by land."

"Very good," Vulpix said. He strained to stand up. "Is that all?"

"It is," Nitesco said. "I will have us leave tomorrow morning. You are dismissed."

The commanders stood up and began filing out, first Vulpix, and then Opifexa. As Gwydion was about to leave, Nitesco spoke.

"Wait, Gwydion." Gwydion turned around, and Nitesco sighed. "I'd like to talk for a second."

Gwydion waited until Vulpix and Opifexa were out of earshot, and he sat down. He met Nitesco's gaze with a sad, knowing look of his own. "It's about Austin, isn't it?"

Nitesco sighed. Gwydion may not have been talented on the battlefield, but he was perceptive. "Yes," Nitesco admitted.

"Well, she volunteered, correct?" Gwydion asked. "Someone needed to stay behind, to deal with the Church. Or at least to hold them off a bit longer. You understand this was necessary, right?"

"It's just…" Nitesco sighed and rubbed his temples. "I feel like I failed him, somehow."

"Him?" Gwydion asked. His face slowly morphed in understanding. "Ah, him."

"She was his only daughter," Nitesco said. "The only thing he left to us. It took nine years to find her, Gwydion. Nine years! And now I've lost her." His eyes turned moist and reddened. "I feel… guilt. Stronger than I've felt it in a long time."

Gwydion placed his hand on Nitesco's arm. "Nitesco, do you remember when we killed Celtic together?"

"Yeah," Nitesco said. "I do."

"Do you remember how I killed Celtic?" Gwydion asked. "Who held him down while I took the shot? Who else took the bullet that went through Celtic?"

Nitesco nodded and wiped his eyes, suddenly ashamed of his guilt. "I do."

"I know that guilt, Nitesco," Gwydion said. "Better than any man living. You think I don't regret it? That I don't wonder what I could've done differently?"

"You had no choice," Nitesco said softly. "If you hadn't taken the opportunity, Celtic would've killed Austin. Then he would've killed you, and then he would've killed me."

"I know," Gwydion said. "I understand that. But that doesn't make me regret it any less." He sighed. "We can't let guilt drag us down. Because if we aren't here to protect the Subreddit from the Church, who is?"

Nitesco sighed and steepled his fingers. For a man born a mercenary, Gwydion was a surprisingly good speaker. Perhaps he should have been the Prime Minister.

"You're right, of course," Nitesco said, and he laughed halfheartedly. "Go. Don't let me keep you from your new project. I have much to think about."

Gwydion nodded, casting a somber glance at Nitesco as he walked out of the tent. Nitesco remained in his chair for a little while longer, mulling over what Gwydion said. Finally, he walked over to his private chest and withdrew a book. The cover was dusty, but the binding was still a rich white.

The Collected Accounts of Team ANGQ, by Austin Rufus, Nitesco Gaming, Gwydion Forto and Quixotic Quail. Merely a compilation of his teammates' journals and several contemporary accounts, yet it had become a best-seller. Nitesco smiled wistfully as he opened it up, recalling his old memories, and began to read.