The Legend of Zelda: Exoria (M)

The chapters are being edited into the post in bbCode, but please do try to read on FFNet for maximum reading experience. Thank you. ^_^;

The basic summary: After ages of medieval rule, the continent has finally moved onto modern times. Modern technology, including electric power, planes, the internet, are all but an everyday part of life. The continent, in the meantime, is divided into three major superpowers: The Kingdom of Hyrule, a democratic monarchy, the Gerudo Union, an alliance of states, and the Kingdom of Valent, which went completely isolationist after the Valentine Revolution seventeen years ago. In this three-way zero-sum game amongst three superpowers, Crown Princess Zelda, the effective sovereign of the Kingdom of Hyrule, correctly predicts that the peace the continent enjoys cannot last, yet finds hope in the strangest of people, the Hylian Joint Intelligence Agent Link.

Technically alternate-universe, but linked to actual Zelda canon in a way I'm not quite willing to reveal yet.

The Prologue and Chapter One are currently up.

Please read and enjoy, and, if it isn't too much of a bother, please review and comment both in this thread and on FanFiction.Net; authors need their egos stroke every now and then. ^_^;

*****


Dedicated to Aura
To whom I owe my great inspiration
And who has been my pillar of support along the way

Prologue

It was on a Sunday afternoon that the chief of staff to the Hylian crown princess stepped into the cobblestone path of the Nayru Garden from the vast castle halls within, a move that could’ve otherwise been considered taboo by means of time and location if one understood the customs of the castle. The maids, standing perimeter around the entrances to the garden, moved in, their faces reflecting disapproval, if not shock, as the chief of staff stepped into the gardens from within the castle, preparing to remind her of the privacy required in this garden behind the castle proper at this time, but a wave of a hand from her, coupled with a stern expression on her face, told the maids that she was well-aware of the rules, but the situation warranted this breaking of tradition. The maids dutifully backed down.

Although the gait of the white-haired, red-eyed, dark-skinned woman was calm, not carrying any particular sense of agitation or urgency, it was also somewhat brisk. It had nothing to do with the fact that even the chief of staff did not often visit the Nayru Garden, but that she had unfortunate news to bear. The colors of her dress, blue and purple, struck a bit of a contrast to the garden around her, consisting largely of white walls, green grass, and a myriad of flowers that were actually more red and orange in color, as if to differentiate itself from the rest of the castle, set in a whitish-blue color scheme.

The woman, however, had no time to admire the beautiful scenery of this well-maintained garden. Rather, she headed straight for the pavilion, the gazebo, at the center of the garden.

The garden was not excessively large compared to the other gardens surrounding the palace. It was, after all, a private garden for the royal family, sporadically visited by the palace staff when the occasion called for it. It was, after all, just less than an acre in size, and the chief of staff didn’t need to spend any time trying to reach the gazebo – or trying to distract her own attention long enough with the lavish, natural surroundings, to prolong her journey to the center of the garden, for that matter – whereupon she laid eyes on the single figure seated within the small pavilion, a small, roofed, open-aired deck that served as a place to remain comfortably in the shade and enjoy the view and air around the garden even as the sun cruised in the skies above on such an afternoon.

The princess, her chief of staff observed, always seemed slightly different in this garden when compared to anywhere else in the palace. Perhaps, for the princess, it was the one place where the environment provided solace, a distraction from an everyday life of a crown princess forced to take the mantle of the king’s duties, a respite from a stressful, if not antagonizing, lifestyle that would’ve broke a lesser girl of eighteen years. Of course, the chief of staff knew that such a theory was not necessarily true, not when one also observed that the princess rarely ever set foot in Nayru Garden without a folder of documents in one hand and a pen in another. Still, for one who had accompanied the princess on a journey through years since her birth, she could not help but notice the tranquility that the princess displayed when seated in the gazebo, devoid of security details or servants, surrounded by flowers and aromas while before her on the table were a personal tea set and whatever work-related documents she needed to concentrate on. Blue eyes and delicate features were framed upon pale skin adorned with long, shoulder blade-length blond hair, a golden diadem gently around the princess’ head while a multi-layered dress, white, blue, and purple in color, masked her elegant, frail figure underneath.

The princess’ head gently lifted as she noticed the approach of her chief of staff, the movement subtle, restrained, even as her eyes betrayed a hint of surprise and alarm, for if her chief of staff had to intrude upon her privacy, matters were likely to be of great importance. Still, it radiated a strange aura of calm, one that was not easily found in an eighteen-year-old girl. It took a moment for the chief of staff to properly reflect that, one day, she would make a great queen, if she hadn’t already.

Stepping onto the pavilion, the chief of staff paused just on the opposite of the table of the princess. A curtsy was made, a nod given in return, formal pleasantries exchanged, if only to delay whatever news had to be delivered. As soon as they were finished, the chief of staff stepped around the table, and somberly whispered her news to the princess.

The princess’ eyes went wide. Initially, she had been looking only at her chief of staff, but, slowly, as if in slow denial, they drifted, shocked and wide, back to the table before her. She trembled a bit. Her jaw opened just a bit before closing it in an attempt to speak.

The chief of staff, her eyes reflecting sorrow and regret, placed a hand on the princess’ shoulder in comfort and sympathy. She recognized the need for her lady to be alone without even being asked. She whispered some form of condolence to the princess, made sure she would be alright, and, with a final parting glance, as if looking for any sign that would inform her of the need to stay with her princess, slowly left the gazebo, headed back for the castle, not looking back in respect for the princess’ obvious wish of no one seeing her in such a state.

For the maids peeking out from around the corner of the entrance and out the windows, though they could not see the tears that had begun to flow from their lady’s eyes, the face that buried itself into white-gloved hands clearly told of a deep sadness and anguish, and, in shame, they all discreetly looked away.

*****

The first time Zelda saw him, the young man was stood at attention before her even as his hands were folded behind him smartly, dressed in complete black, his shirt, jacket, trousers, ties, and shoes all of the same color – a clear indication of his position with Hylian Joint Intelligence. A pair of heavily tinted sunglasses, predictably also black, hid his eyes from her direct line of sight, his face utterly stoic and serious. What would’ve been a somewhat black-and-white color scheme, a combination of suit and skin, was broken by somewhat messy dirty blond hair, long enough to be shoulder-length at the back. An earpiece was in his ear, most likely tuned to a palace security frequency…or one belonging to Joint Intelligence.

“His name is Link, your Highness,” Impa did the talking for the two as she gestured in a manner that was not unkindly towards the blond, unmoving young man. “He was personally recommended by Director Leonore to be your new bodyguard until you can make arrangements for a new one.”

Zelda spared a moment as she looked up from the stack of papers on her office desk. As crown princess, she enjoyed the luxuries of a rather spacious and pristine office, which, in honesty, she felt to be rather unnecessary. All the space was wasted on the space between her desk and the double doors, and the only particular objects that were noteworthy in the room were a pair of bookshelves that flanked her desk on both sides of the room, her desk. A regal, throne-like seat with a splendidly tall back, the back of the seat, faced the window, made of very heavy metallic material to prevent potential snipers from firing a bullet through the window and the back of the chair in an assassination attempt. The office itself was rather crystal-like, its material marble-like and reflecting a light, silver-ish hue bordering on blue, giving the room an almost holy aura. The architect of the room evidently chose to impress the inhabitants of the castle rather than provide practicality or pragmatism over splendor.

Her expression was carefully neutral, showing no particular displeasure or anger, but no care either, as Zelda regarded the young man standing before her, before just as silently dismissing his presence, her eyes going back to the documents before her desk. He was, as far as she could tell, no one that was particularly special. He was younger than everyone else she had seen wearing all black on the castle grounds, probably only a year older than herself, but, otherwise, there was nothing about him that made him stand out when compared to every other black-laden intelligence agent. “An unusual gesture,” Zelda permitted herself to say, her voice devoid of any particular emotion or stress. “To what do I owe such consideration?”

Impa worriedly looked at Zelda for a moment, noting her dismissive nature and an unseen, invisible displeasure that only years of experience with this young princess could detect. “Your Highness,” Impa continued, throwing a covert glance towards Link to see if he was upset by such a reaction, but he might as well have been chiseled out of stone, unmoving and stoic as he was, “Director Leonore is aware of the background and security checks by Joint Intelligence that are required before a new bodyguard can be appointed to you. She has taken the liberty of undertaking the checks herself for Agent Link, and says she can have him immediately assigned to you indefinitely to fill the hole in your security detail until your new candidate can be screened.”

To this Zelda said nothing; instead, she merely continued to look at the documents, occasionally taking a moment to scribble something on it with a pen, likely a signature or some notes. Although she knew better, she had a sudden impulsive hope that the chandelier above, hanging meters above Link, would suddenly come crashing down on him and end this rather irksome topic. It was after a moment of this awkward silence that Impa understood the implications of Zelda’s refusal to speak any further, and, with that, hoping Link didn’t pick up as much as Impa did, turned to the young man. “Could you please wait outside for a while, Link?” she said in a quiet, reasonable voice.

Not missing a beat, or even giving a second glance towards the princess, Link unhesitatingly nodded to Impa, then offered a salute to Zelda, one she did not return, before walking briskly out of the room. If he was offended, he certainly didn’t show it. Zelda actually counted ten seconds for the young man to reach from where he had been standing before the desk to the door, and reminded herself for what was probably the hundredth time that she still felt her office was unnecessarily spacious. She forfeited another five seconds to ensure that Link was not just at the door outside before finally addressed Impa, still standing where she had been even when Link was in the room.

“I am surprised at the gall of some people,” Zelda muttered, her voice thick with concentration and clear irritation even as she continued to scribble away at the documents on her desk, anger articulated through what seemed like an unnecessary amount of pressure being put on the pen, drawing bold lines around where the tip touched the paper. “Does that woman believe she can just take and reassign bodyguards to me like some sort of merry-go-around? And where is she? Why isn’t she here to tell me of this change herself?” Without Link here, she was free to vent her frustrations in front of Impa, something that would not have been quite proper in front of a subject and civil servant not directly on a palace payroll.

Impa hesitated. On one hand, she wasn’t particularly afraid of the princess’ rare bursts of temper and humanity, not when Impa had been her caretaker from birth and not when she was currently Zelda’s chief of staff. Anger from the princess was rare, but ultimately not unheard of, and, in light of the current situation, Impa, having watched Zelda’s struggles in keeping the kingdom running single-handedly at the tender age of eighteen, certainly wasn’t going to blame her. The fact was, however, that Impa did need to convey the truth while keeping the pain and the necessities at clear boundaries, one that was more politically healthy for Zelda.

Chances were that Zelda knew anyways, and was merely looking for a chance to vent, but Impa just had to make sure.

“I have been told that Director Leonore is under the impression you don’t want to see her right now,” Impa finally said in a slow, deliberate voice. “Seeing your current mood, I cannot help but agree. Furthermore, rumor has it that she is currently making thorough preparations for an administration change before tendering her resignation.”

Zelda looked up, her pen coming to a pause, genuine surprise settling into her eyes as she looked back up at Impa. “She’s resigning?” she blinked, absorbing this news.

“I’m no spy, your Highness,” Impa gave a small nod of her head, “but those are the rumors.”

It took her a moment to properly digest this information before Zelda sighed, placing her pen down on the desk before she pressed it gently on her forehead, as if attempting to tame a headache that was beginning to build. This was seriously not the time for her to be dealing with this kind of thing; on one hand, she had expected, even predicted, that this would happen, but that was just a realm of possibilities, a potential factor with a chance – albeit a rather high one – of happening, and now that it did happen, Zelda realized that she had not actually formulated a proper response to react to this situation.

She suppressed a second sigh at this realization. Recent events have really been getting to her.

Zelda ran the possibilities in her head before finally dropping her right hand from her forehead to the armrest limply. “I need you to talk Leonore out of it soon,” she said to Impa tiredly. “Preferably just before the conference on Thursday. It’ll help her keep that in mind when the conference actually starts and give her little time to think about it; I don’t want to touch on this issue formally then, not until I have something more conclusive and preferably when I’m not still feeling horrible about it. And I’d prefer to keep her off-guard and with as few contingencies as possible, at least until I have a few contingencies of my own.”

Impa frowned worriedly at her words, wondering if Zelda had gone paranoid. “Are you afraid that she might attempt some form of power play?” she asked. If that was truly what Zelda believed, Impa would have to discourage such a thought; Leonore simply was not the type of person who would go that far, not when duty was such a paramount thing for the current director of Joint Intelligence.

“No,” Zelda corrected, as she tilted her head back against the back of her seat and closed her eyes. “I’m afraid that she might really resign. Especially right now.”

Impa nodded. “I understand, your Highness,” she assured her princess.

Zelda sighed, dropping her pen back onto her desk as she leaned back against her throne, fatigue and frustration clear on her face. “Of all the times this has to happen,” she muttered, supporting her head with a hand as she tilted it to the side, her elbow on the armrest her seat, “Leonore timed this particularly well, especially when she knew I would need her the most.”

The chief of staff pursed her lips. “I wouldn’t think her timing is intentional,” Impa offered some form of comfort. “The simple truth of the matter is that you need to fill in this hole, and she happens to be the best candidate to select one for you in a rapid, impromptu manner. And she’s experienced; she had been serving your father as director of Joint Intelligence before…” she trailed off, not quite wishing to finish the sentence. There were enough touchy subjects as was.

A shake of the head told Impa that Zelda disagreed. “It’s not just that,” she seemed rather adamant. “You’re not seeing things the way I am…”

“And pardon me, your Highness,” Impa interrupted tersely, but not unkindly, something that probably only she was given the privilege to do as Zelda’s closest advisors and caretaker since birth, “but I think recent events have thrown you off your game, and you are not yourself at the moment. I understand your loss, your Highness. Believe me, I do…”

“No one doubts that,” Zelda offered, but it seemed to only be a token gesture, and her words seemed tired, half-committed.

“…But the fact remains that I think all of us are being preoccupied by a greater issue at the moment than the death of one bodyguard,” Impa continued, heedless of whatever conciliatory gesture, half-hearted or otherwise, that Zelda made. “If you wish, I can have my staff look around Joint Intelligence for any holes, any clues, file a formal investigation if need be, but the fact remains, princess, that Leonore is offering the best choice she can provide us right now.”

Many moments of awkward silence passed before Zelda sighed again, leaning back against her throne and closing her eyes. What annoyed her a bit was that Impa made sense; Zelda was tired and frustrated and drained from what had been happening, and this was not something that she could hide from Impa, wise with decades of experience and eighteen years of understanding Zelda, despite her attempts to covering it up behind the cold mask of stunning logic and intelligence that had allowed the princess to govern this kingdom practically single-handedly since she was sixteen years of age. It wasn’t ignoble or petty-minded, but after eighteen years, Zelda had hoped that she would somehow be able to impress herself by managing to hide her thoughts from Impa and, for once, leave the chief of staff guessing.

Of course, in reality, she wouldn’t have it any other way. Impa’s ability to simply know what Zelda was thinking or feeling had been such a valuable asset since she took responsibility as to affairs of state, which was probably why Impa still remained as Zelda’s closest advisor.

Still, the annoyance had to do partly with Leonore as well. After everything that had happened, Zelda was looking for the proper pretext, something that could justify her actions, to have Leonore quietly removed from Joint Intelligence. It was, of course, unjustified either way – as Impa said, there were more important matters than the death of a single bodyguard – but that was her emotions speaking, and, for obvious reasons, that had, for the past few days, taken precedence over everything else. Instead of giving Zelda some sort of alibi or cue to have her silently removed, however, Leonore extended the gesture first by offering to resign…then demonstrate her hyper-competence by preparing for an administration change and being thoughtful enough to have an agent ready to complete Zelda’s security detail.

The goddesses conspire against me, Zelda thought with a fair degree of irritation.

More moments of awkward silence dragged on.

Finally, Impa decided that long enough a time had gone on, and practical matters took priority. “What about Agent Link?” she inquired.

“What about him?” Zelda replied; her voice sounded vaguely absentminded even as she stared off into one of the corners of that rather large office.

“You haven’t decided whether or not you’ll take up on Director Leonore’s offer on a temporary replacement for your personal bodyguard.”

Zelda sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she did so. Stress was seriously starting to get to her, and, for what was probably the thousandth time, she wished that her father wasn’t confined to his room, unconscious, unresponsive, comatose, wired to half a dozen life support systems with no real hope of ever regaining consciousness. “What do you think, Impa?” she asked as she finally looked back up to her chief of staff. “Should I accept?”

“Milady,” Impa advised, insisting upon her position, “I think, regardless of whatever may or may not be going on under the table, your security still remains to be of the utmost importance. It is imperative that all security precautions remain at full strength.”

“And if I accept this offer,” Zelda figured, opening her eyes to look at Impa with a rather stoic, unreadable expression, which she hoped would mask her conflicting feelings, “it’ll make it easier for you to reach out to Leonore on Thursday and convince her I don’t want to see her gone just yet.”

Impa nodded. “Precisely.”

Zelda formed a grimace even as she turned her attention back to her paperwork, leaning forward on the desk as she picked up her pen again, scribbling notes and signatures. “I don’t like this,” she muttered, “There’s something about this timing that’s off.” For some strange reason, something based on logic, intuition, or otherwise, something was just nagging at her. A premonition of sorts. She just couldn’t let go of it.

Impa did her best to seem sympathetic. “I understand, your Highness,” she said, trying to be, for once, the voice of reason beside Zelda. “But, regardless of its timing, I’m sure even you see that it’s the best choice available to us right now.”

Her hand did not stop scribbling even as Zelda gave a half-hearted reply. “Perhaps,” she whispered.

*****

In all honesty, Zelda had been neglectfully professional towards her new bodyguard, but it was not until Wednesday that she decided she probably wasn’t going to like Link.

There was the initial frustration that Link essentially followed Zelda like a shadow. It was not at all surprising, considering he was going to be her bodyguard for as long as Impa needed to make arrangements to allow Zelda to select a new one from a candidate list the chief of staff would be preparing – which meant interviews with the candidates, calls to their respective superiors and departments, and, of course, screening and tests with Joint Intelligence – but Link somehow saw fit to follow her wherever she went. It had been somewhat surprising, a feeling of the unwelcome sort, when Link, unasked, stepped into her office right behind her, something that no one else had ever did; most people stopped right outside the door unless asked to come in. Zelda had been too surprised to say anything at the time, so she merely decided to tolerate Link’s presence in her office with her this time, where he merely decided to stand by the door at attention like some sort of sentry.

It was awkward enough having someone else in her little office sanctuary, but it was even more so – maybe even borderline unnerving – when Zelda realized that Link seemed to have a special ability to stand there for hours on end without moving. He moved once when he turned to the door, a hand in his jacket as if to reach for some weapon, after Impa was let in through the door after the intercom on Zelda’s desk informed her that her chief of staff was coming in, but otherwise, he just stood there, and something about that simply didn’t sit well with Zelda, not when his eyes were effectively hidden behind heavily tinted sunglasses that Link seemed to always keep on, basically giving him the appearance of a generic Joint Intelligence agent. With such a stoic demeanor, unmoving posture, and no view to his eyes, Link was, to Zelda, and unreadable enigma.

She didn’t like that; two years of running the kingdom instilled her with a need that convinced her she needed to know everything.

The fact that he never talked was also getting on her nerves. Granted, Link somehow possessed an uncanny knack of expressing himself through a mixture of body language and actions if he couldn’t respond with either a nod or a shake of his head, but he also seemed very good at not answering questions or leaving it up in the air with a simple shrug that could mean anything. Zelda wanted to foster an impression that she wasn’t trying to be unworkable, but by the third attempt trying to get him to say something, if only to place a profile on his voice, she decided that she really didn’t want to talk to him at all anymore. In fact, despite Impa’s reassurances that all agents assigned to the royal family’s security details must not have any major disability, Zelda was beginning to suspect that Link was mute.

And now, she was stuck having to explain to him why he couldn’t follow her into Nayru Garden on a Wednesday afternoon without sounding rude and not going into a fully detailed explanation.

“This is as far as you’ll need to take me, thank you,” Zelda said, her voice clearly not providing any hint that she was being thankful, even as she turned around to face Link at the castle entrance of the Nayru Garden. Around, the maids that usually tended to the garden silently and nervously watched the spectacle between their princess and a Joint Intelligence agent they had never seen before, preparing to intervene if necessary. Maybe with dusters and brooms.

Link did not respond, merely stood there. Zelda wasn’t sure, but she thought Link had an “I’m supposed to be protecting you” vibe going on. Or maybe he was going to speak, but was going to go into the usual “your Highness, I can’t allow you in here until I have made preliminary security checks to ensure that the premises is safe”. That would’ve been rather amusing, but it wasn’t something she was looking forward to right now. Or maybe she was hoping that Link could at least speak and voice his concerns in a rare gesture at using vocal communication, but no such luck for her when Zelda realized he was going to remain utterly silent.

“I can assure you,” Zelda said as patiently as she could, although she could detect a bit of thinness in her voice that Link probably wouldn’t miss either, “that I have, for the last five years, been in this garden alone every Wednesday and Sunday afternoon. My staff knows that I am to be given privacy during these afternoons, and that I have the garden to myself unless there is an emergency.”

Again, Link merely stood there. This time, Zelda couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking or what he was trying to say, and those damned sunglasses prevented her from searching for answers in his eyes. She had half a mind to demand that he remove those sunglasses, but that, she felt, would be rather unreasonable. She had all the reason in the world to be moody, but there was a need to maintain a certain composure as crown princess. Losing her cool here, in front of a bodyguard and surrounded by maids, was not what she was looking for in particular.

“Is that understood?” Zelda asked, if only to confirm.

A moment of hesitation, before Link nodded curtly. He didn’t seem particularly convinced with that explanation, which Zelda honestly didn’t care much for, and she suddenly pondered the possibility that he might walk right in after her anyways as soon as she turned around, but when she stepped into the sunlight and into the gardens, Link had disappeared from the doorway as soon as she had turned around to see if he had followed. Relieved smiles from the maids inside seemed to indicate that Link had indeed chosen to leave. That, Zelda decided, was a small victory by itself, and permitted herself a thin smile.

Her moment of satisfaction was rather short-lived.

It was three minutes into her usual routine in Nayru Garden, seating herself in her usual gazebo, satisfied to find that her tea set was already arranged for her by the dutiful maids even before she ever arrived, and beginning to make her tea while looking through an afternoon’s worth of documents that a flash of light caught her eyes. She initially assumed that it was just windows reflecting the sunlight in her general direction – which was still curious, considering that had never happened before – but when it became more frequent, Zelda frowned and looked in the direction of the light, trying to figure out what it was.

It took her some squinting and effort to finally find the source, but when she finally did, she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

The “light” Zelda saw originated from the rooftop balcony just above the garden entrance, the result of a lens flare coming from the scope of a high-power sniper rifle sticking out between two pillars of a stone railing which Link was barely concealed behind.

The rifle wasn’t aimed at her, of course, but the movements suggested that Link was basically scoping all of the Nayru Garden, as if expecting intruders to come at any point. At one point, she actually wondered from where the young man got the weapon from, but decided to chalk that up to the usual clandestine way all intelligence agents seemed to operate. Despite his obviously good intentions, Zelda couldn’t help but feel supremely irritated at the fact that Link seemed to have missed the point of her wanting privacy in this garden. To compliment this frustration, she was not carrying a cell phone, the gazebo did not have an intercom, and, short for shouting for her maids – which was definitely out of the question – she had no contact with anyone else from where she was save the panic button hidden in her necklace. Despite the fact that Link’s earpiece was probably on the same frequency as her panic button, not to mention that she couldn’t possibly justify summoning twenty armed guards scrambling into the garden and initiating a palace-wide alert because her bodyguard had a sniper rifle on the roof, she was suddenly severely tempted to press it.

All appetite for work lost, Zelda slumped back into her chair as she muttered a small prayer. “Goddesses help that I survive this week.”

*****

“Do you mind if I sit here?”

Link paused for a moment as he quietly looked up from the cafeteria table upon where he was sitting. It was everyday in his work shift that two thirty-minute intervals were taken out for him to eat lunch and dinner in the palace staff cafeteria unless, of course, attention to the princess, which always came first, dictated otherwise. Of course, while “palace staff cafeteria” sounded somewhat impressive, Link could never make out the difference between that and every other staff cafeteria he had ever been to, which tended to be underground, plain, and unadorned. Not that he minded, but it was somewhat ironic that, despite this being practically the center of the Kingdom of Hyrule, there was little improvement here over the common cafeteria.

Regardless, however, there wasn’t really any way Link could tell his direct superior that he did mind if she sat here, so he merely shook his head; it was the truth, anyways, although he did wonder why she had specifically asked to sit with him, considering the cafeteria, being half-empty, was in no way short of empty seats.

Leonore seemed to have caught his look, and she gave a wry smile in return as she settled down her tray of food on the same table as Link, sitting down; years of having worked with and trained this young man, complimented with many factors, one of them being able to deduce thoughts from even the most stoic of persons, allowed her brief glimpses of what he wanted to say…without him actually ever opening his mouth. “You’ve become a rather important person, Link,” she noted in a mockingly patronizing voice, “becoming the princess’ personal bodyguard. It goes without saying, but I have to keep an eye on you.”

Link rolled his eyes in what had to be quiet frustration, if not exasperation, of Leonore’s behavior, and concentrated instead on his spaghetti, deciding to ignore that. Still, it was as “rude” a gesture as he would ever really allow himself in front of Hyrule’s director of Joint Intelligence. Despite already being in her fifties, Leonore had distinguished herself as the first female director of Joint Intelligence in Hylian history, and earned a reputation, to which some might describe as “notorious”, as exceedingly competent and professional – often jokingly emphasized behind her back by others by a rather tight expression that sufficiently hid the few light wrinkles that were finally forming on her skin – which, by itself, was enough to earn Link’s respect. That said, however, despite keeping most of her staff at a respectful, professional standard, she also seemed to, contrary to initial impression, keep a rather genuine interests in their lives, families, and well-being, something that previous directors had failed in, and something that made her rather popular amongst the members of Joint Intelligence. This was often shown in her being unafraid to mingle on a more personal level with her subordinates…precisely what Leonore was doing with Link.

Although Link often reaffirmed to himself that Leonore probably wasn’t one to play favorites with her subordinates, he sometimes wondered why Leonore always acted especially motherly towards him…although, then again, it probably had to do with the fact that he was one of the youngest, if not the youngest, field agent of Joint Intelligence.

For now, though, his eyes wandered over to her attire, a rather smart business suit that was all white. Not a particularly wise choice of colors when one remembered the stains spaghetti can have on fabric, despite Leonore looking near ethereal with it when combined with her pale skin, dark blond hair, and blue eyes. Then, again, Link knew Leonore would’ve considered that as a factor already; it was popularly believed she knew everything, from military authorization codes, backgrounds of suspected terrorist masterminds, weapons development in Gerudo, even which closet Chandler and Cecilia were making out in every Friday at five in the evening. Chances were that she probably knew a week ahead of time what the cafeteria food was going to be too. No, Link wasn’t going to be judgmental; his observance was largely a force of habit from having been trained as an intelligence agent. He also couldn’t help but note a folder that Leonore had brought in with her, which was suspiciously thin; her folders, whenever Link saw her carry one, were usually rather well-stuffed and thick.

“My letter of resignation,” Leonore explained, again catching Link’s gaze as she forked at her own spaghetti. “Although I suspect, with Impa wanting to visit me before this afternoon’s conference, I would think her Highness wants to talk me out of it without actually having to talk to me.”

Link continued to look at Leonore stoically. She smiled; the young man was just as silently inquisitive as he was silently observant. She took a small bit of pride in that, noting the youth in him despite what intelligence work had done to him.

“If I had to guess,” she explained after taking a bite out of her spaghetti, no longer quite looking at Link as she concentrated on her plate instead, “she thinks removing me right now would cause too much of an upheaval in Hyrule’s intelligence community, and would create a power vacuum. She’s also waiting on me to procure intelligence on Valent that military intelligence has failed to do for two years…” there was a pause, before a small, amused, almost sadly whimsical smile crossed her lips, and she looked up at Link with eyes that seemed to reflect hints of tragic irony and brutal truth, “…And I guess having me gone for a human resources issue would be a rather unpopular move.” Leonore was, apparently, not at all uncomfortable with admitting she knew how popular she was with the Hylian intelligence committee.

A light grunt came from Link’s throat, almost defensive, even as he stuffed more spaghetti down; that, Leonore knew, was usually as close to an amused chuckle as Link got. Having exercised the initial pleasantries, the two, for several minutes, concentrated on eating. Link was not at all talkative, and Leonore, knowing this, respectfully accepted that. It was not until moments of quiet contemplation – Leonore didn’t touch her plate after taking her third bite of lunch – that she spoke once more.

“I hope the princess isn’t giving you a tough time.”

This time, Link actually did look up seriously at Leonore as he paused what he was doing. He caught himself too late; the lapse in his stride told Leonore as much as he wasn’t willing to say, and not only was she intelligent, she was very perceptive, and, Link would feel sometimes, this was especially true when she concentrated on him. Shaking his head wouldn’t do, for that was an outright lie, and he didn’t want to give off the idea that he was insulting her intelligence. Rather, his mouth twitched into a slight grimace before he dropped his gaze back to his spaghetti and pointedly wolfed down a large portion of it in a show of exaggerated annoyance.

Leonore smiled in a kindly amused manner at Link’s expression, and gently reminded herself, as well as himself, that Link was, indeed, still quite young, no matter how he masked it. “Girls can be like that at her age,” she tried to assure Link, “I myself, I think, was worse when I was her age…” she paused, noting a very skeptical look that Link was throwing her way, then smiled, adding, “…Even boys like you have your own strange mood swings sometimes, or act sullen all the time.”

Again, a grunt from Link, although Leonre noted that it was one more of disgruntled annoyance this time. Her smile grew even more in what was definitely a bemused expression, although, after a few moments, it turned somewhat sad, regretful, and melancholy, one born out of realization that a bit of her fears had, indeed, come true.

“Be honest with me, Link,” Leonore whispered, and Link noticed that, this time, his superior was looking distantly away from him. “I need to know the truth, especially since everything is my fault. Was reassigning you to her Highness my mistake? Is it an unnecessary burden for you?”

That made Link hesitate for a moment before he sat up straight in his seat, dropping the fork back into his half-finished plate of spaghetti as his face donned a somewhat uncomfortable frown, symbolizing a bit of inner conflict within him. There was, of course, the awkwardness in realizing that his situation had just troubled his superior, so there was a bit of preprogrammed sheepishness there, a natural bureaucratic reaction. He knew that Leonore wouldn’t hold it against him – she just wasn’t the type to be petty – but it didn’t make him feel less guilty. And his feelings of guilt aside, he was just as equally divided as to how he saw Princess Zelda. He really didn’t want to nod; not only would it be a half-truth, but it was something he just didn’t want to do in front of Leonore, to let her know that he felt uneasy and frustrated by this assignment. On the other hand, shrugging was just as bad; it was simply dodging the question.

That really left only one option left. Link shook his head. There really wasn’t much else to tell her, and even with his aversion to speaking, there was no way he could sort out how he did feel and explain it to Leonore in any logical way. That shake of a head would have to do.

Leonore merely smiled at Link’s gesture, and although the regret was still there, a bit of it was placed with a more familiar bemusement that Link was accustomed to seeing from the older woman. “You’re a horrible liar,” Leonore teased half-heartedly. “That could be fatal in this job. Remind me why I hired you again.”

That, Link decided, was the Leonore that he wanted to see, someone that sounded rather like a patronizing parent; anything else under casual circumstances, aside from maybe her strict spymaster mode, was a bit strange for him. At, with that, Link entertained Leonore with a roll of his eyes, just a bit more exaggerated than what was usual. Leonore merely smiled at this display of silent mutual understanding; there was something special about this young man and his unabashed mentality of being close and compassionate towards his superiors, unafraid to express his views through body language, even if it is silently broadcasted.

With that in mind, Leonore stood up, preparing to leave the cafeteria. “Please tell me if anything comes up,” she encouraged Link to continue to be open with her, “even if that means leaving memos on my desk.”

There was some hesitation, but a rather short moment later, Link simply nodded his head in compliance, although his gaze didn’t quite leave Leonore’s plate; aside from the three bites she had taken from her plate, her spaghetti had been left relatively untouched, and it very evidently looked it.

“I wasn’t really hungry,” Leonore admitted with a shrug, looking just slightly guilty at what was definitely a waste of food, “and I never enter a conference with a full stomach anyways. Makes me feel sick later on.” A grin surfaced on her lips as she decided she was going to tease Link a bit more. “You, on the other hand, need to eat everything you can.”

Link gave a bit of a scoff; Leonore knew that was his version of a devil-may-care smile. More notably, however, Link swiveled his head slightly towards the cafeteria stewardess, who was covertly shooting Leonore what definitely seemed like a displeased look at the fact that she was leaving and wasting what was practically a full plate of spaghetti. Leonore decided she didn’t want to deduce exactly what the woman was thinking, that it was a waste of food or that Leonore did not appreciate the woman’s cooking.

“Looks like I won’t be coming back here for lunch for a while,” Leonore smiled futilely at Link.

An equally futile shrug from Link told Leonore that it was her own folly.

*****

“Would you stop that?”

Link did not make any vocal response to the statement to indicate that he had heard the statement; he left that to the swiveling of his body as he turned to face the person who addressed him on the gazebo, his demeanor strictly professional and official.

It was a cloudy Sunday afternoon, the clouds above neither dark nor gathered enough to be decisive about whether or not there shall be rain, and although a single week had not yet completely passed since Link became Zelda’s personal bodyguard on a temporary basis, there was an unspoken undertone between them, and potentially those who were close enough, that the two were not making the best of pairs. For one thing, Link was doing a splendid job for an agent who had not yet protected the princess from any immediate danger, at least where both at maintaining security protocols and frustrating Zelda were concerned.

“Please do not think that, just because you have sunglasses,” Zelda said in a coldly dignified manner as she turned around from where she was sitting, her face coming to bear with the black-laden agent right behind her, a motion that was very well-timed in conjunction with a confused, inquisitive expression on Link’s face as his head tilted to the side in confusion, and Link – for just a moment – wondered about the possibility that his employer was psychic, “I can’t tell that you’re glaring at me from time to time.”

For the most part, Link didn’t feel that this accusation was fair. It was true that he was somewhat frustrated at the strained relationship between employer and employee – for the most part, being an intelligence agent meant dealing with a few department heads and Leonore, and they have moreorless treated him with professional respect – but his covert looks at her had largely been what he considered to be protecting her and watching her well-being, not quite the “glares” she had been insinuating. Still, he knew better than to argue with a princess.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Zelda continued, turning her head back towards the documents on her desk, her voice thick with eerie concentration, as if she was somehow unnaturally expanding her attention span to both read documents and address Link with astounding fluency. “You’re thinking that I must be the most irritating, stuck-up, arrogant girl you’ve ever met, and you feel very unfortunate having been assigned to me as a bodyguard instead of being out in the field, where you feel more comfortable, where you feel it’ll make you more important.”

Link would’ve been forced to suppress a grimace if he had much of a general desire to make faces to begin with. There was the initial indignity that pervaded his mind as he was tempted to just quietly shake his head in a clear “no, that’s not at all what I’m thinking”. But he caught himself for a moment, and decided he would just remain silent and unmoving. The truth was that he was, albeit, to be fair, only a little, thinking about such a thought, but that had been suppressed by the fact that, for all of Zelda’s attempts at self-security through near-offensive distancing, she was the crown princess of Hyrule, and Link had to concede that she was a calm, regal, and intelligent one at that, one who would one day become a good queen. Besides, he also had the feeling that, even if he denied thinking of such, Zelda probably wouldn’t believe it. As such, just as he had decided, he remained silent and unmoving.

That, unfortunately, also seemed to irritate Zelda as much, if not more, than denying her accusations outright, which was immediately evident after a few seconds, Zelda gave an exaggerated sigh as she dropped her documents back on the table, swiveling her head to Link in what was clearly a displeased, frustrated expression. “Can you even talk?” she demanded of Link; there was the potential possibility that Link was indeed mute, but Zelda was not in a mood to be particularly polite at the moment, and she figured the mute probably would not be able to find field jobs in Joint Intelligence.

Link, expressionlessly, nodded without missing a beat.

“Well,” Zelda commanded impatiently, “say something.”

“It is my belief that you are not at all ready to accept a new bodyguard, your Highness. It is also evident that your Highness and my predecessor were close.”

Zelda had to blink twice. She was honestly caught by surprise. She hadn’t expected Link to actually speak, although she had conceded to herself beforehand that were he to speak, it would only likely be a word or two, an indicator that he was not mute before falling back into his sullen silence. He did not stutter, speak slowly, or possess any sort of speech impediment that was immediately audible. In fact, as far as Zelda could tell, Link possessed excellent voice control, his words soft and gentle, but still hinting at strength and resolution beneath a rather softspoken demeanor. The crown princess did not expect that from this silent agent. And if there was anything she hadn’t expected, it was the fact that this agent was as bold as he was intuitive. Not only had he the gall to speak his mind, it was clear his mind had already contemplated exactly why he was receiving the cold reception.

Admittedly, Zelda wasn’t entirely sure how to deal with him now. Should she accept a bodyguard who seemed to possess a keen mind? Or should she feel threatened by an agent who presumed too much? She wasn’t sure, but, for some reason, something about Link allowed her to relax slightly as she visibly leaned against the back of her chair, and the edge left her voice when she spoke once again. “You’re probably right,” she spoke with a bit of a huff, but her voice was softer, more reasonable. “As princess, I’m not supposed to particularly favor one subject over another, and overcome my personal qualms for the sake of the greater national good, but…” a wistful, almost melancholy smile crossed her lips, “…I admit I still have problems trying to accept the fact that your predecessor is dead.”

Link tilted his head slightly to the side, betraying the most minimal amounts of curiosity.

“No, it’s not what you think it is,” Zelda gave a small, bitter laugh in response as soon as she noted Link’s expression, looking upwards to the skies as if searching for her memories from the expansive azure. “He was my illegitimate half-brother. When my mother was still pregnant with me, my father had a one-night stand with a recently widowed noblewoman. It was, by all accounts, a sudden, spur of the moment thing, but when the pregnancy became known, the truth was revealed…” she paused, then closed her eyes as her fingers rubbed the bridge of her nose, a sound like a mixture of a chuckle and a scoff escaping her throat, a clear indicator of contempt and ridicule, “…My father became the first king in Hylian history whose genitals were described before a Senate investigation committee in front of the mass media when the old men threatened to force him to abdicate, my mother refused to talk to my father for a month, and the noblewoman committed suicide in shame after the entire debacle. The only thing that saved my father was that, before the fiasco reached its climax, the headlines moved onto the civil war in Valent, and his affair became a thing of the past. He privately adopted my half-brother eventually, probably out of guilt, and he was raised in secrecy, his true identity fading from public knowledge over time. By the time he became my bodyguard, with a new name and background, no one knew who he really was.”

If Link was particularly moved by, or had any strong feelings for, Zelda’s story, so far as she could tell, he didn’t show. The slightest parting of his tightly-sealed lips, one that lasted for only a second, was the only hint that he might have been preparing to say something, but, otherwise, he remained silent, and did not speak when Zelda looked at him inquisitively and gave him a few seconds to voice his mind. When she was certain that Link wouldn’t even try, however, she sighed and continued.

“So, if you must know,” she finally said, and, once more, an edge came back to her voice, perhaps a hint of annoyance towards having to deal with the wordless bodyguard once more, her speech filled with increased bite with every word she spoke, “No, it doesn’t have to do anything with you specifically. Because I am upset that I was not able to repay the family debt that we owe him for bringing him about his wretched, cursed existence of being my illegitimate half-brother. I am feeling displeased about my half-brother’s death, especially because it was your superior, Director Leonore, who rotated him from his bodyguard duties to a mission in which she insisted personally that it had to be him for the objectives to be accomplished.”

By the time she had finished what she had to say, Zelda had become slightly short of breath, forcing her to close her eyes and inhale deeply once both to catch a breath and to calm herself, dissipate an unpleasant pressure building up in her head. When the exercise was completed, she opened her eyes once more, looking up at Link with a slightly accusatory look. It was difficult for Zelda to figure out what kind of expression Link had – the tinted sunglasses, easily one part of Joint Intelligence apparel Zelda would like removed, hid any glint of emotion that might’ve shown in Link’s eyes, something that might not have shown in his stoic expression.

In this case, Link seemed to stare right back from behind his sunglasses, his face unreadable…and, suddenly, moments later, without warning, he simply turned around, and walked briskly away from the gazebo. Zelda could only watch, wide-eyed, bewildered, and flabbergast, as Link silently left the gazebo, moving for one of the garden’s exits, before disappearing behind one of the corner walls, out of Zelda’s sight.

The gesture itself surprised, if not shocked, Zelda. Part of it was because no one had ever suddenly turned their back on her before – her royal station was to thank for that – and part of it was because she had never felt this irritable before in her years as crown princess, but none of those reasons diminished the shock factor by any extent. Did I go too far? Zelda wondered if she was too harsh, and, for a long moment, a pang of guilt struck her and remained there. Had she, a crown princess, really been inconsiderate enough to turn one of her subordinates away like this? There was the painful realization that she, too, was human and flawed, and even she could not always maintain that mask of regal composure all the time.

So she was rather grateful, even if she did strive very hard not to show it, when Link, only a few minutes later, finally reappeared. Zelda figured that Link probably felt a bit guilty about leaving the crown princess there like that. She would make sure that those thoughts were dissuaded immediately; it was she who needed to apologize, not him. But her thoughts were interrupted as Link stepped back onto the gazebo, not a change of expression on his face, and Zelda realized that there was an umbrella in his hands.

“Is it going to rain?” she asked.

Link wordlessly nodded. It was back to silent stoicism for him again. For some reason, Zelda rather wanted to hear his voice again, if only because it allowed her a moment of triumph and satisfaction to hear the normally silent agent talk.

“How do you know?” she persisted.

“I’m told you’re likely to be here for another hour and a half,” Link simply stated, his voice level and calm, and tapped his earpiece twice, pointing it out. “I had agents a bit west at headquarters inform me if they had any rain. If they got rain, we’ll be getting it soon here.” And, as if the heavens wanted to punctuate that point, a soft crescendo of rainfall, the sound of raindrops falling across leaves with an ambient pit-pat, suddenly became audible as it began to drizzle, and, as Zelda looked out the gazebo, she realized that it was, indeed, slowly but decisively becoming a bit of a shower.

It took Zelda a moment to register the thoughtfulness and loyalty in Link, the dedication upon which he was taking his role as a bodyguard – and perhaps a bit of a caretaker – despite her less-than-ideal treatment of him thus far. She had, in fact, noticed the subtext, the undertone, in Link’s voice, which spoke with the insinuation that all bygones were bygones, and anything she might’ve said about the earlier spat would’ve an incurred an “I’ve already forgotten about it, your Highness” answer. She realized that she had misread Link; He was an agent that was not easily put off, and Zelda found that trait to be rather admirable. She still didn’t find herself accommodating of Link’s overbearing methods…but they suddenly became a bit more tolerable.

The crown princess of Hyrule did not smile, but a slight inclination of her head in Link’s direction, a nod of approval, clearly showed that she accepted his gesture with a sense of gratefulness, and this was confirmed with the words that she used to address the agent. “Thank you, Link.”

The silent, wordless nod Link offered in return had a clear flavor of “you’re welcome”.

*****

A small tinge of satisfaction manifested in the form of a small, invisible smile of triumph as the doors closed behind Zelda’s office, effectively sealing the crown princess in her workplace along with her chief of staff. With no one else present. It was less about alienating Link than it was a sudden, whimsical, and playful thought, but this time, Zelda remembered to turn to Link just as she had opened the doors to her office, and say, “This is sufficient, thank you. I would like you to take your position outside until I am ready to leave.” Link fidgeted once – or, at least, seemed to – when Zelda had finished her words, clearly debating whether it was actually safe to do so. But a raised, inquisitive eyebrow from her, a silent inquiry as to whether or not Link really wanted to disobey the crown princess of Hyrule, the trick, and Link nodded in an equally silent manner, taking up post outside the office.

Although she did not notice Zelda’s smile, Impa did note the manner in which Zelda had left Link outside. “I see you have finally managed to bring yourself to convincing your interim bodyguard to leave you alone in your office,” she remarked.

Zelda seated herself on her chair behind her desk while Impa stood on the other side. “Simple problems often require only simple solutions,” she said in a voice devoid of humor despite both women knowing full well the humorous intent.

The Hylian chief of staff matched Zelda’s demeanor with a slightly deadpan tone. “And I now know not which of you two is being blunt and rude.”

“My mother always delighted herself in remarking how my generation had no manners.”

And with the pleasantries exchanged, they quickly moved onto business. “Major General Morgan is reporting that OL…OLR…OLRER…” Impa scowled at her inability to fluently pronounce that acronym even as she squinted at the five letters on the document, as if looking hard enough would help, “…has new intelligence that requires out immediate attention. He’s requesting that we move the next conference from next Thursday to this Thursday.”

A pause; Zelda knew that if Major General Morgan, a rather easygoing military leader despite his rank and rarely ever made requests for any form of change, was requesting for a schedule change on behalf of OLRER, then it must be rather important. “Tell him that a reschedule will be made,” she said with a straight face, “as soon as he can find a better way to shorten Office of Long-Range Electronic Reconnaissance into something more pronounceable for my chief of staff.”

Detecting the near-invisible humor, Impa responded in kind. “Would you like me to contact the rest of the Joint Chiefs and Director Leonore after General Morgan confirms that the new acronym will not torture my poor old tongue?”

Zelda shot Impa a mock dry look, pretending she was irritated and impatient with the question, which the chief of staff decided to interpret as a “no”. A pen scribbled away at her clipboard. “There’s also the matter of your meeting with Director Leonore. She has prepared a selection of candidates that she has screened and would like you to personally ratify before she can reassign a new permanent bodyguard for you. She’s requested Friday afternoon, although she notes her schedule is very flexible over the weekend.”

That Zelda did not immediately reply to the mention of Director Leonore was, for Impa, completely expected. What Zelda said next, however, was less so. “Actually, Impa,” Zelda said slowly, deliberately, contemplatively, but relatively softly, and Impa, through the voice, could somehow tell that, for the most part, Zelda has begun to move on, “please inform Director Leonore that a sudden matter has come up that requires both our attentions, and that neither of us will be able to meet with her to discuss her new security arrangements until sometime after the conference on Thursday. Thus, for now, we will rely on current arrangements and make do until a more appropriate time.”

Impa nodded dutifully at the lie. “Of course, your Highness,” she replied, and although she lifted a document up to her face as if looking for the timetable on it, hiding her face partially, Zelda could still tell that Impa was secretly smiling.

Zelda found herself doing the exact same.

*****

Author's Note: "Exoria", the title, comes from the Latin word "exorior", which roughly translates to "to rise, to come forth, to advance". In this way, I have "advanced" this alternate Zelda continuity in various ways, foremost of which is that the world is now in a modern-day setting. Not sci-fi; although I will be utilizing some science fiction elements (as well as fantasy ones to stay, in some way, true to the Zelda universe), this is essentially a modern day Zelda universe with an average technological level of the early twentieth-century. I say "average" because they have some technology we don't, and vice-versa. For example, they do not have space-faring technology yet, not even a rocket sent up to space...while they will make up in ways revealed to you later in the story.

I write without following any particular Zelda game. I do borrow obvious plot elements from various games, and, for one, I do try to stay remotely connected to canon, but, for all intents and purposes, I am not trying to limit myself to writing a specific sequel. In this I cite the example of Turn A Gundam. The symbol "∀", otherwise known as a "turned a", is a symbol representing universal quantification, meaning that it is "all in a set" and "true for everything relevant to it". Thus, the show Turn A Gundam is essentially what is known as a very distant sequel (by several millennium, no less) to all Gundam shows prior to its broadcast, a show that is canonically true to everything...or, more specifically, every Gundam show aired thus far. This is what I have in mind when writing Exoria: This story is a very, very far off sequel to all the Zelda games released thus far. It's probably the only way I can ever get things to make sense, anyways, especially when Nintendo is particularly fond of creating a different world for every Zelda game to confuse us with the official statement that all the games are somehow canonically connected.

******

Chapter One

“I’ve looked at the budget proposals and the fiscal year report for last year from the Ministry of Defense,” Zelda muttered even as the pleasant ding in the hallway foretold the opening of the elevator’s double-doors, a pair of reading glasses loosely hugging the bridge of her nose as her eyes darted across several documents in a folder on her hand. “I don’t approve. The armed forces has been spending practically a third of the national budget for the last three years, and the excuse that it’s against Valent’s military buildup is rapidly wearing thin. The minister should know better. Their special weapons projects are taking up an extravagant sum of funds, especially the air force.” The polished metallic doors to the elevator opened, revealing a clean, fancy, and spacious elevator beyond. Already, two palace guards were posted at the elevator, expecting the princess, and saluted smartly in traditional Hylian uniform, long white overcoats with blue-sheen metallic shoulder armor. Although they were both armed with not only the aesthetically traditional rifle, which both were a replica of a century-old model, hidden in hip holsters under their robes were also modern handguns, just in case lethal retaliation against potential threats overrode the need to abide by palace customs.

Per tradition, the black-clad Joint Intelligence agent acting as interim royal bodyguard stepped into the elevator first and gave a quick cursory visual sweep of the elevator before Link, in the same split-second, stood at attention right beside the interior elevator console, prompting both Zelda and Impa to step through the elevator doors. Link keyed the buttons shortly afterwards, and the doors sealed shut before the familiar feeling of a descending elevator was felt by all the occupants, the elevator car moving from the palace’s higher levels where Zelda’s office was located to the main wing below.

Impa was appropriately armed with a bundle of folders and documents in one hand, most of which were military-related records pertaining to the re-scheduled Thursday conference. “The bulk of the spending is related to outsourcing contracts for our sixth-generation fighter jet,” she explained even as she passed yet another relevant folder to the princess, which Zelda took gracefully and opened. “The details are in here.”

Zelda’s gaze whipped swiftly through the first words on the documents, found the key words she had been looking for in practically the same instant. “The Seraph,” she muttered. “I’m aware of that little secret pet project. Five years down the line, several million dollars on part of the air force, and we still only have one prototype. Which contractor holds the bid?”

“Allen-Rosencrantz Heavy Industries, your Highness.”

“Explains things,” Zelda expelled a frustrated sigh. “Jealous of their profits and secretive of their finances. They’re probably extending the contract for as long as they’re able to. Money goes around.”

“Is this something you wish to address at the briefing, your Highness?”

The elevator dinged pleasantly again as the elevator began to rapidly decelerate, coming to an eventual halt. “No,” Zelda replied, and although the double doors opened, she remained in the elevator car, preferring the exchange between her and her chief of staff to remain in the confines of elevator walls, although Link stepped out first to assess security anyways. “I don’t want to steal the spotlight from Morgan any more than I have to. We’ll deal with this at a later time, but have Tim leak information of a possible upcoming ultimatum from this office involving declassification of all project documents…and Senate involvement, preferably oversight.” Zelda permitted herself a small grin as she finally stepped out from the elevator, ignoring the two palace guards that took up the rear of the princess’ escort while Link brought up the front. “I’d like the gentlemen over at the Haven to know what it feels like dealing with those old men.”

Impa nodded even as the entourage stepped from the elevator and into the large main wing of Hyrule Palace, the Grand Hall majestic, large, and ornate, acting as the central hub of the palace. Brightly lit, the afternoon sunlight poured in from gigantic windows on both sides of the hall, which offered an admirable view of the metropolis capital beyond the castle walls surrounding the palace. It was to the main wing that the Grand Staircase of the Hyrule Castle led, and it was from the main wing that most areas of Hylian royalty’s official residence could be accessed; the Grand Hall, effectively the entrance to the highly secure Hyrule Palace, acted as the main hub of the titanic building. The entourage passed through scattered members of palace staff, from bureaucrats to guards to maids, all of whom offered polite bows and curtsies before their sovereign-in-actuality as she and her chief of staff and bodyguards passed by. Zelda had taken years to hide her display of flustered emotions at the display of subservience on part of her staff; she had gotten more effective at hiding her embarrassment as time went by, and, to help things, the current agenda, irksome as it was, effectively took her mind off any distracting emotions she may have felt otherwise.

“How much exposure?” Impa asked in regards to Zelda’s suggestion of a deliberate information leak.

“Rumors are fine enough,” came Zelda’s answer, allowing Link to steer them down a less-crowded western corridor. “We’ll take a page from Director Leonore’s book. I don’t want anything confirmed, and we should have room for plausible deniability if the Haven starts pressing us for answers. I do want the Joint Chiefs to break a sweat, not prepare for political retaliation. Not yet.”

Although Impa nodded in agreement, she couldn’t help but purse her lips at the same time, a clear indicator of mixed feelings on the issue. “I understand, your Highness,” she treaded the topic carefully, “Still, I’m not entirely unsympathetic towards this development. Both Valent and Gerudo have developed a true fourth-generation main battle tank, to which we still have no answer for. Our navy is still uncontested, but, deployment-wise, this is not going to help out strategic defense any, and I think most would feel more comfortable if we can boast a sturdier air force…” the seemed to be prepared to stop there, then, remembering another tidbit of information, added rather impatiently, “…since the army doesn’t look like their R&D department will be getting anywhere soon.”

“I’m not opposed to weapons development, Impa,” Zelda’s voice was stiff. “I just want to remind them – gently…” she quickly added, noting a funny look from her chief of staff, “…that the national treasury is not bottomless. With no trade whatsoever with Valent and a declining Gerudo economy, we should be looking for ways to strengthen our economy, not for more ways to spend money.” They stopped before another set of elevator doors, already open and waiting for them. Again, Link entered first, although neither Zelda nor Impa seemed to wait for him, assuming that he’d push them right out if he detected any danger. This time, the palace guards entered last, standing to attention as they entered and stood guard on either side of the elevator doors, which closed before, again, the car began to descend.

“Fair enough,” Impa relented. “Also, you have an appointment with Doctor Hal in two hours.”

Zelda merely nodded. “This briefing shouldn’t take too long. If it does, I’ll just call him here and step out for a few minutes; I know what he needs.”

The elevator ride was much shorter this time; the doors opened at a subterranean level before Link silently led the way out to the secure subterranean operations center, the military strategic center for the royal family in the palace. The guards saluted as they remained in the elevator, allowing the three other occupants to file out into the corridors. The well-lit hallways were largely abandoned; the operations center was generally unmanned during peacetime, with the exception of security forces ensuring the equipment and databases here weren’t tampered with. Despite this, the facility was kept modern and clean, and did not possess a desolate feel about it, even with the minimal security detail; lack of changes in security patrols made it harder for spies to predict where the royal family was going to go next. Leonore’s suggestion, Zelda reminded herself, realizing that she didn’t really know what to feel about that…and, moments later, that she should have gotten over her grudge towards Leonore days ago.

Twenty meters and two right turns later, Link opened the doors to the main conference room of the facility, and as Zelda stepped in, she was greeted by the rising of around two dozen men and women already in the room, having been seated around circular conference table, talking and discussing amongst themselves, and waiting for the presence of her Royal Highness. Immediately notable within the group were the Minister of Defense, Major General Morgan, the Joint Chiefs, and Director Leonore. The remainder of the group was made up of a collection of generals and admirals, their aides, and a few members of record-taking palace staff.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Zelda greeted the members of the briefing conference politely even as she took the head of the table, marked by a larger chair directly opposite of one of the wall-mounted computer screens that could display various forms of media pertaining to whatever was at hand, but was at the moment carrying the national flag of Hyrule. The meeting joined her in taking a seat as soon as the crown princess was properly seated. Link, standing guard at the entrance, closed the door behind them and remained silent. From behind his tinted sunglasses, he kept his eye on both Princess Zelda and Director Leonore, the latter of whom couldn’t have told whether or not her agent was looking at her through the tinted sunglasses, and showed no sign of noticing the reception of attention either.

Before the conference could kick off, however, one of the members of the Joint Chiefs, having been handed a handheld computer by one of his aides, quickly interrupted the proceedings. “I’m sorry, your Highness,” he quickly spoke as he set down the computer in his hand. “I don’t mean to be stealing the show from Major General Morgan, but I have an emergency update. We’ve received word that three Valentine armored divisions have been deployed across our border last night. We’re still trying to get third-party confirmation from the usual sources, but intel at this point is fairly reliable.”

A feeling of alarm flickered through the occupants of the room. Three divisions was the equivalent of anywhere between forty to sixty thousand soldiers, an extremely sizeable battle force. The fact that Hyrule City, the capital of the nation, was dangerously close to the Hylian-Valentine border, only seventy kilometers away, did not help the dreadful feelings of premonition any. “Are we looking at any possibility towards hostilities?” Zelda asked calmly.

“They do not seem to be operating in an offensive capacity yet,” the general replied cautiously, “but it’s a sizeable force under full battle readiness. We’d have to gather more intelligence on the rest of the Valentine armed forces before I can answer that question, your Highness.”

Zelda sighed as she rubbed her temples with her fingers, then nodded. “We’ll give you a bit of time for more updates to come in before we address that, then,” she said. “I’m not fond of entering this kind of discussion without knowing enough. We’ll approach this topic after Major General Morgan’s briefing…unless anyone has anything else to add?”

Looks exchanged around the room revealed the consensus that the princess’ proposal was acceptable. “I think we’re safe to start the real topic of this conference, your Highness,” the Minister of Defense answered as he spoke for the collective opinion of the room.

Zelda nodded again before turning to the host of the meeting. “Major General Morgan,” Zelda addressed the middle-aged major general on the other side of the conference table, “Before we start with your briefing, I’d like to make sure that you’ve kept up with your promise of simplifying the acronym for the Office of Long-Range Electronic Reconnaissance. Impa here has expressed difficulty for her aged tongue to pronounce OLRER, and I admit I share some of the same reservations as well.”

“My staff and I are already working on it, your Highness,” Morgan, noticeably younger than most of the military brass gathered in the conference room and probably the only one with a more well-rounded higher education outside military academies, reassured Zelda as he leaned back in his chair and entertained the barest of amused smiles. “We’re waiting for the official paperwork to catch up, as we are also changing the name of the entire office. In any case, we will have decided to rename ourselves the Office of Long-Distance Electronic Reconnaissance, your Highness, with the acronym of OLDER. I’m sure that’s a name Impa can pronounce, relate to, and get behind.”

Chuckles resounded around the table even while Impa made a face in response to being the target of the joke of the day. Zelda herself couldn’t help but smile. “Well, then, that’s out of the way. Go on, general. What do you have for us?”

The major general opened a document-filled folder right in front of him on the conference table, although the gesture seemed to be an indication of habit more than necessity, as he didn’t spare a glance at the documents within. “On Monday morning, our P415 networks along the border of…” he started.

Zelda raised a hand from where they had been folded on the table to temporarily silence the major general. “I’m sorry to interrupt, general, but what’s P415?”

Morgan cleared his throat. “P415 is our SIGINT, or signal intelligence, networks,” he explained concisely, “comprised of different types of hardware and software designed to intercept, gather, and analyze communications. The program has been running since fifty years ago, and it’s been designed to tap in on telephone communications, fax, internet connections, radio transmissions…and, nowadays, microwave transmission. Plus a few other theoretical methods of communication not actually implemented yet, but we want to be ready…” he paused, gave a slightly amused smile tinged with a bit of futility, noted in addition, “…You might know the system better by its name in popular culture, Echelon, characterized by the white, ball-like radome we use to intercept a large majority of transmissions nowadays.” Clearly, Morgan found irony in how names were given unintentionally to military hardware, names that became even more mainstream and official than the actual designations initially given to them.

If Zelda caught onto Morgan’s humor, however, she did not show it. “I see,” she merely nodded, gestured at Morgan. “Please continue, general.”

“Well, our networks across the Valentine border blacked out for twenty-three seconds at around eight fifteen. Came back online shortly afterwards with no immediate damage. An alert was not immediately raised due to the fact that we could not get sources to confirm that this was any sort of attack, electronic or otherwise, but further investigation from auxiliary instruments showed that Valent utilized some sort of electromagnetic power source to generate a pulse. We caught a brief shockwave of it, but it’s believed that Valent achieved a rate of output no less than what can be measured in terawatts.”

A period of silence pervaded the conference as the technical jargon flew over the heads of most at the table. Although Zelda and Leonore, as well as a small handful of others at the conference, seemed to understand exactly what Morgan was insinuating and looked quite obviously stunned at the revelation, the majority of those congregated were clearly confused and not-as-impressed…or as enlightened. “Terawatts…?” one of the military leaders at the table muttered aloud.

Morgan’s voice was appropriately serious and somber, unlike the usually casual, soft voice he was known for. “That’s an output rate of approximately one trillion watts. Twelve zeroes. We’re talking about one trillion joules generated per second. At the very least. And the system blacked out for twenty-three seconds.”

“Layman’s terms, please, general,” yet another member of the conference requested, clearly not entirely sure exactly of how powerful terawatts were supposed to be and whether or not he should be worried. “Not all of us had the chance to study anywhere outside Victoria Military Academy.” Again, chuckles came from different parts of the table, especially from admirals and generals of the older generation.

Morgan drew a breath, exhaled it in what would’ve constituted as a sigh in more civilian surroundings. “Terawatts are what we use to calculate the total energy consumption on the entire continent, including clean energy resources, petroleum, coal, nuclear, hydroelectric, everything,” the major general said, and just as he had dropped the bombshell, watching the composed faces of the military brass around him twist into that of astonishment, he added, almost as an afterthought, the completion to this little shocker, “Every year.”

The silence around the table became complete as looks of bewilderment were exchanged, the revelation dawning upon all of them at last, and this lasted until someone finally remembered to breathe, expelled a breath, which eventually brought everyone back to awareness.

Impa was the first to recover, and the royal chief of staff spoke in angry tones that betrayed her impatience and discontent. “This is absolutely unacceptable, General Morgan,” she snapped in a manner not unlike how a mother would scold at a child. “You should have requested an emergency meeting on Monday for this, not push this until today, practically three days later.”

Morgan sounded appropriately standoffish. “Three days ago, we had absolutely no idea what kind of energy output Valent was packing, nor any idea what had happened beyond our SIGINT network failing, ma’am. It wasn’t until this morning that I had the preliminary figure. And it’s a very vague estimate at best.”

Sensing the possibility for a potential argument, Zelda quickly brought the conversation back on track. “And you said there were twenty-three terawatts produced?” she asked, her voice reasonable and soft even as she regained her composure, sounding surreally calm for someone who had just learned of this phenomenon.

The crown princess of Hyrule knew that she wasn’t going to like the answer when she saw Morgan hesitate and falter before making a face and sounding unusually sheepish. “No, your Highness,” he breathed, “I didn’t. I said a minimum of twenty-three terawatts. It could be a lot larger. Maybe twenty times larger. We have no idea. We know twenty-three terawatts at least, but we don’t know the maximum value.”

It was Zelda’s turn to sound incredulous. “How could you not?” she demanded.

Again, Morgan sounded defensive as he spoke briskly. “With all due respect, your Highness, P415 was designed to intercept communications, not massive energy waves. The accumulated wattage at which communications on this continent produces is, at the very most, measured in megawatts, and that is very rarely. That is six less zeroes. And eight-five megawatts is our current maximum threshold of P415’s reception capability, which is almost forty times more than what this continent ever achieves. The Office of Long-Range Energy Reconnaissance, despite its name, is meant to intercept communications, not actually detect massive bursts of energy.”

“Another reason why a name change is necessary,” Impa muttered under her breath. Only Zelda actually heard her, however, although Leonore managed to glean what Impa said by reading her lips; neither had the presence of mind or patience to entertain her attempt at a humor with a smile of any sort.

“So this will happen every time Valent does something like this?” Zelda asked, folding her hands on the table and leaning forward, her voice clearly laced with displeasure. “And we wouldn’t be able to detect it?”

“I’m afraid so, your Highness,” Morgan sighed regretfully. “The only piece of hardware capable of long-range analysis of energy waves with that kind of capacity that I actually know of is in the Cybil Laboratories.” He pressed a few buttons on the conference panel in front of him, and, moments later, the screen behind him lit up with blueprints of what seemed like a highly sophisticated cylinder-like device. “They use it to detect the trajectory of high-power atmospheric orbital lasers.”

“Sounds like a weapon,” one of the admirals muttered as he stared at the blueprints.

“It’s actually supposed to be a key device in part of an experiment to map the electromagnetic field of the planet,” Morgan corrected, clicking another button before the screen showed an animation of the graph zooming out as a line, probably representing a laser, fired from the cylinder and revolving around curving arcs representing magnetic fields around the planet, “but that point is moot. Cybil Laboratories is under international obligation to be completely uninvolved in any form of military affairs since it started building the Large Hadron Collider twenty-five years ago. The Hampshire Treaty is in place to enforce that. No weapons manufacturing or research. No requests from the military. It’s a strictly civilian laboratory.”

An older, graying admiral sat forward in his seat as he leaned against the conference table. He was Fleet Admiral Francis, chairman of the Hylian Joint Chiefs, and, already in his late seventies, the only commissioned officer in the fleet to have weathered three consecutive royal administrations in Hyrule. “There’s nothing either Valent or Gerudo could do if we asked Cybil Laboratories for just a bit of detection help,” he spoke in a raspy, almost conspiring tone of voice, and heads around the table immediately turned to face the normally reclusive and silent admiral. “Deniability; we could always claim the device had been in use for civilian experimentation while Valent was…doing whatever it was doing.” He shrugged casually, “A coincidence. The regime in Valent has not re-ratified any of the treaties the previous government had signed before, so they’re in no position to point fingers.” His suggestion was not at all surprising; the chairman of the Joint Chiefs had a keen interest in military intelligence despite it not being part of his purview, and many high-ranking officers of those branches and offices were protégés of his.

Despite working in the more clandestine areas of the military, Morgan clearly seemed less than pleased towards the idea of skirting international treaties to appease the needs of the Hylian war pavilion. “Only if Cybil Laboratories is willing to work with us,” he noted. “In any case, it’s impossible. The device requires a twenty minute warm-up sequence. The blackout lasted only for twenty-three seconds. We’d never be able to get a very good match.”

The Minister of Defense sounded impatient. “Then keep it turned on until it happens again, goddammit.”

The sigh escaping Morgan’s lips – he was never one to stand on ceremony or care all that much about rank, even when up against a full admiral – clearly indicated that his patience was being stretched to the straining point. “Minister,” he did his best to explain in a reasonable manner, “this device requires wattage measurable in gigawatts even in warm-up sequence, never mind how much energy it needs when it’s actually in operation. There’s a reason why Cybil Laboratories uses it for only one second at a time. The costs of keeping the device on for an entire day, never mind an entire week, just to try to catch that energy wave would bankrupt the national treasury very quickly. Not to mention that both Gerudo and Valent would be able to detect the energy output as well. No doubt they would be suspicious.”

“Okay,” Impa interrupted tersely, her hand creating a cutting motion across the conference table as she spoke, as if to dispel any attempt to interruption or confrontation. “Never mind exactly how much energy was produced. Working theory: Valent has some sort of energy source with unrivaled output ability. I’m pretty sure that we don’t have any type of power source that can rival that, do we?”

“Not even close,” the major general shook his head to indicate negative. “Even theoretical nuclear power, which has yet to actually be developed, achieves only wattage that is measurable by gigawatts. Predications say that no nation will be able to develop energy source with terawatt capacity until twenty, maybe thirty years from now…” he shrugged and looked sufficiently lost and resigned, “…I find it impossible that Valent managed to do this.”

“Is it possible that this is an astrological phenomenon?” asked the crown princess. “Maybe we were mistaken, and this ‘wave’ came from somewhere else.”

“No, your Highness, we’re pretty damn sure about its origins. Plus we cross-checked with our Gerudo counterparts; it’s Valent. There separate military bases, in fact. Hadrian Army Base, Hewitt Naval Base, and Elysian Air Force Base.”

“Which essentially confirms that this is a military operation,” a general cleared his throat, and his words seemed to attract the agreement of the brass around the table, who made similar gestures of concurrence as they nodded and exchanged whispers. “Possibly even weapons development.”

If anything, Zelda was slightly disturbed at how rapidly the leading military leaders of her kingdom were willing to decide that this was a sign of Valent’s preparation for military expansion. “We don’t know that yet, general,” the crown princess spoke in a tone that was a bit more sharp and icy than she had originally intended, made a conscious effort to soften her voice, then addressed Major General Morgan once more, “Are there any known power sources at any of the three bases?”

It was at this that the commanding officer of the Office of Long-Range Electronic Reconnaissance finally nodded, and the conference room screen blinked once more to show three highlighted dots on a digital strategic map of Valent, complete with pictures of what the occupants of the room recognized as electromagnetic power plants. “All three, your Highness, all electromagnetic. But these bases are actually locked into the national power grid, and so they keep the electromagnetic generators off unless there happens to be a blackout. We don’t have any intel about them bringing the generators online Monday. That said, the generators wouldn’t be able to reach terawatts anyways.”

The chief of staff to the Hylian crown princess shrugged. “Maybe they built a new power grid there,” Impa suggested. “Multiple power plants to achieve that.”

“To achieve that kind of rate, you’d have to have dozens, possibly even hundreds, of these plants,” Morgan explained. “I think we would’ve noticed from surveillance photos long ago if that were the case. Not to mention the latest photos were dated last month; there’s absolutely no way, no way, that Valent could’ve mustered the manpower or industrial power to build that many power plants in one month’s time.”

“Maybe they’re located underground?” the Minister of Defense suggested.

From her corner of the conference table, director of Hylian Joint Intelligence Leonore spoke for the first time since the meeting began. “The massive allocation of resources and manpower to do this would have caught our attention,” she sounded rather calm and amused, and could practically feel the collective ire of her political opponents as she added rather slyly, “Joint Intelligence does a pretty good job at keeping track of things like that.” No doubt various members of the brass found that last remark to be a personal insult; vital information on Valent’s strategic movements, shrouded in a veil of secrecy that the isolationist nation was extremely jealous of, rarely came from anywhere else but Joint Intelligence, and the fact that Leonore was succeeding where the branches of military intelligence were failing was indeed a sore spot for many generals and admirals attending the conference.

Zelda was not oblivious to this shift in political inclinations, but she was hardly in any mood to address it, especially not now. “So we have absolutely no idea of what the power sources are,” she muttered, “no idea how much power it produced outside a minimum estimate, and no idea what was being powered.”

“Your Highness,” the general who suggested that Valent was likely to be flexing its military muscle spoke again, “I think we may wish to consider the very good possibility that this is a prelude to a possible military operation.”

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the older generation of military leaders in the conference room, but Leonore begged to differ as she spoke again. “I wouldn’t be too fast to condone all of us to war, gentlemen,” she quipped. “This may not be a military operation at all.”

“With all due respect,” an admiral sitting across the table spoke in a voice that was just short of what could be called out as a mocking sneer, despite the fact that Fleet Admiral Francis looked disapproving of the sudden hostility and inappropriate inter-service rivalry, “Valent moved three entire armored divisions to the border in a seeming effort to bolster their defensive lines at around the same time, Director Leonore. Three separate massive energy waves were detected from three sources, all of which were military bases. It’s a military operation.”

“Not necessarily,” Leonore shrugged, ignoring the obvious challenge in the admiral’s voice and what were probably death glares coming from half the military leaders seated around her. “Valent’s a nationalist military dictatorship. There’s no other organ the nation would use to test what could otherwise simply be a power production experiment. Plus energy shielding is probably very poor, so I’m guessing this is prototype and untested technology, which would explain why, many great miles away, our P415 networks were affected.”

“How do you explain the three armored divisions, then?” the previous general asked testily.

“Possibly a defensive measure against what we’re assuming right at this moment,” Leonore sounded like a patient schoolteacher, her voice almost soothing and deliberately soft, “that this is a prelude to a possible offensive military operation. Valent may very well be trying to make us think twice before responding to their actions. We don’t have formal diplomatic relations, nor does Valent share anything with us, but that doesn’t mean they don’t know we’re watching them, and it doesn’t mean they don’t know we’re quite concerned about what they’re doing on the other side of the border. They’re just thinking three steps ahead of us. Besides, something like this? They probably want to keep us confused. They probably don’t want us to completely realize what this energy thing is all about. They probably have some sort of technology that they know we’d kill to get our hands on, and they’d rather we stay the way we are right now: Confused and frustrated.”

“Director Leonore,” the minister frowned, “although I’ve faith in your insight, we cannot ignore the possibility that this very well may be a military operation.”

“And I didn’t say the possibility didn’t exist.” The director of Joint Intelligence sounded placating. “We should be putting up one hell of a defense, readying our countermeasures. But we shouldn’t be sitting here and assuming that war’s about to happen in the next couple of days, despite the fact that the possibility is actually greater than I’d like to let on. That kind of mentality only increases the possibility that we’ll really go to war.”

“Leonore has a point,” Admiral Francis noted in a surprise conciliatory gesture that turned many heads and invited many stares around the table. “Last thing we need is to give Valent a moral high ground. We can enjoy an alliance with Gerudo if Valent tries anything stupid, but not if we give enough reason for Valent to point fingers at us and say we started the fight. We should work up a good defense strategy, and figure out to what extent Valent is deploying its military, but not be aggressive about it.”

“And continue looking into that energy phenomenon,” Impa added.

“That too,” Morgan conceded. “My office is ready to coordinate with Joint Intelligence and other related intelligence officers if needed.” Leonore did not speak, but smiled casually from her end, indicating confirmation that she had no problems with Morgan’s proposal.

“Do it,” Zelda nodded to both heads of Hyrule’s intelligence services. “I’d like to have enough information by three days to be able to address the issue directly and talk about what we may have to do about it.”

“With respect, your Highness,” Leonore quickly added, “in terms of technological issues, we may need to consult Cybil Laboratories…perhaps even ask for outright assistance. It’s probably safer if Joint Intelligence heads up that front instead of OLRER, treaty and all. Still, I want to know how far I’m allowed to push them.” She ignored the face that Morgan made, reflecting how he was not entirely keen on the idea, but remained relatively thankful that he did not actually voice his discomfort.

Princess Zelda made an odd expression that betrayed uncertainty. “I’m fine as long as no one from Cybil goes complaining for Senate oversight.”

Chuckles were heard around the table at the expense of the old men that made up Hyrule’s legislative body, all of whom would not have appreciated the princess’ remark and were thankfully absent.

Seeing that Leonore was satisfied with the answer and that no one else had anything to add, Zelda moved on. “In the meantime, I want to talk about our defensive strategy and what we’re going to do in response to Valent’s military activity…”

Now that the briefing itself had been completed, the administrative leaders of the nation’s defense began to knock their heads together with a particular goal in mind, coming up with an effective way to ensure the country’s security should something untoward arise from Valent’s decision-making. The general consensus, unfortunately, was that, due to the nation’s heavy isolationist policy, it was difficult to ascertain exactly what Valent was up to. Since the coup d’etat nearly two decades ago, Valent had also entered no conflict other than suppression of dissidents and rebellions, all of which happened only during the first decade of the regime change. Therefore, in terms of intelligence, Hyrule’s war pavilion could only use heavily outdated information on Valent’s military deployment strategy – coming from the Second Continental War sixty years ago – and combined that with advancements in modern technology, as well as what little Hylian intelligence knew about Valent. By no means was the process accurate, but the eventual consensus was that Valent, should it actually be preparing for an offensive somewhere, would be able to execute an effective operation three to five days from now after all preparations were complete. A quick roleplay amongst the generals and admirals was done, and both Princess Zelda and the Joint Chiefs agreed that their estimation of Valent’s battle readiness preparation time was as accurate as they were going to get, as a second simulation revealed that Hyrule’s offensive forces would take just short of a full week to prepare and mobilize an offensive against any nation, and that Gerudo would take just a day less; these were figures not too far from the one they derived for Valent.

After consulting with the Defense Minister, Princess Zelda convinced the conference that she would be able to talk down any Senate opposition to shoring up Hylian defenses, which the Joint Chiefs promised would be at full readiness once all the necessary military defensive protocols were activated and personnel deployed, a process that was predicted to take just a few hours less than three full days, which should be enough to meet the pressing deadline. The Gerudo option was explored; there was a good chance that Gerudo would provide foreign military assistance if Hyrule was attacked, and Zelda announced she would attempt to raise these odds by means of diplomatic phone call to Generalissimo Ganondorf later in the afternoon, if not early evening, and the Minister of Defense promised to pull whatever favors from his friends he could as well.

Satisfied that whatever issues they could address for now had been so – and silently praying these countermeasures were not actually necessary – after nearly two hours in the conference room, the Crown Princess of Hyrule adjourned the meeting.

*****

Admittedly, Zelda was not entirely certain what to feel even as the Grand Hall elevator doors closed, and, moments later, the elevator car began to ascend again up to the diplomatic meeting rooms two floors above, this time with six passengers instead of five. Impa, of course, was still there, as was Link, and there were the two palace guards standing on both sides of the elevator doors. There was also one extra passenger: Director Leonore. As was custom, Princess Zelda and her entourage had been the first to leave the underground facilities of the palace’s west wing, and they had the elevator to themselves. Which was why Zelda had found herself a bit unnerved when Leonore swiftly caught up with them just as the group entered the Grand Hall elevators, a stunning display of alacrity that the princess had not been expecting. Furthermore, Link had simply just stepped aside from where he stood right in front of the elevator doors as a sentinel, allowing for Leonore to pass unasked and unchecked. It was understandable, of course, considering that Link was technically on Leonore’s payroll and not on Zelda’s, but, personally, the princess couldn’t help but wonder if this would ever turn into a contest of loyalties.

And then she told herself to dismiss the thought. Link was only an interim bodyguard anyways, and would be replaced sooner or later. Zelda attempted to persuade herself that this was nothing to be worried over, that things would move on smoothly, and that she would be comfortable with the coming transition.

For some reason, she didn’t feel very convinced at all.

“Excuse me, your Highness?” Leonore had asked, her voice polite and not unkindly as she stopped half-inside the elevator. “May I have a few moments aside? It’s important.”

Her misgivings aside, Zelda knew well enough that when Leonore said things were important, it deserved her undivided attention. It also meant that a good block of time should be carved out, though, and the princess wasn’t all that eager to keep Doctor Hal waiting longer than he should. “Can you wait for a few minutes?” she had asked, but otherwise took a half-step back, a motion Impa mimicked, a clear sign that Leonore was free to join them in the elevator car. “I have an important appointment to rush to right now, but it shouldn’t take too long.”

Leonore had nodded courteously as she stepped into the car before the elevator doors closed. “Of course, your Highness, although I admit speed is of the essence.”

And now the elevator car was decelerating as it reached the third floor.

The white, brightly-lit corridors of the palace revealed themselves once the doors parted, and Link stepped out first, followed by Zelda, Impa, and Leonore. The palace guards saluted where they stood and did not move; they were not required to escort the princess any further at this point. Moving toward one of the nearby doors that would lead to the meeting room where Doctor Hal awaited, Zelda nodded courteously to Impa and Leonore. “I’d like to see Doctor Hal alone for a moment. It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.”

Of course, before the princess had realized it, Link had already moved past her, opening the door and stepping in. Temporarily stunned at what she at first interpreted as complete disregard towards her order, she ignored the surprised looks on the faces of both Impa and Leonore as she stiffly stepped into the room as well. Already, she was looking at a standing Doctor Hal, who looked fine enough, if not slightly puzzled at the Joint Intelligence agent standing before him. Zelda prepared to speak, but Link, as if reading her mind, held up a finger as if to silently ask her to give him a moment, then proceeded to conduct a quick search on Doctor Hal. Feeling rather embarrassed at the spectacle, Zelda gave a disapproving look at Link when he finally turned around and nodded to indicate the doctor was clean; the agent then proceeded to exit the room, closing the door behind him.

Doctor Hal was, for the most part, exactly how Zelda remembered him since they first met more than a decade ago: Aging, thin, and exhausted. Lines were beginning to form on his face that indicated the age and stress, and his graying hair was only testament to that. His suit and tie should be the same set that he always wore, yet they seemed almost a bit too large for him, a clear indicator that he had thinned…which was dangerous at his age, him already in his late fifties. His tired smile, even more fatigued than usual, sent waves of worry down Zelda’s spine; Hal was insistent that Project Durandara was not what was eating away at him, but if not, what was?

“Your Highness,” the doctor greeted politely with that exhausted smile of his.

Zelda was equally courteous. “A pleasure to see you again, Doctor Hal,” she replied, then, in a slightly embarrassed manner, gestured towards the door where Link undoubtedly stood guard outside along with Impa and Leonore, “I’m sorry about my interim bodyguard; he can be a bit overzealous.”

“He’s only doing what he’s supposed to do,” Hal chuckled. “Although no doubt he’s captivated by your charm.”

The princess suppressed an urge to make a face. “You flatter me. How’s your family?”

A shrug pronounced Hal’s answer. “Oh, you know. Gabriella threatening divorce, kids refusing to speak with me…the all-too-universal characteristics of a work-a-holic.”

Inwardly, Zelda cringed even as she fought down a grimace, opting for a more saddened expression instead. Contrary to her hopes, Hal’s family situation, having deteriorated over the last couple of months, was not getting any better at all. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Hal’s smile was not unkindly. “Don’t be. I asked for the work, I suffer the consequences. Anyways. This…” he quickly steered the subject towards more comfortable territory as he reached into his jacket pocket before plucking out what seemed to be a miniature data storage flash drive the size of a lighter, handing it over to the princess, “…is what you asked for.”

Glad that Hal had tactfully switched the topic for her, Zelda adopted a more serious expression instead as she gingerly took the delicate flash drive, studying it. To her satisfaction, the device looked like any other flash drive, although the silver color of the device did not betray the fact that it actually was made of a silver-titanium-carbon alloy. “Everything I asked for is in here?”

“Everything and more,” the doctor confirmed, then, in a more hesitant voice, continued slowly and deliberately. “I’d like to say that it’ll perform beyond my expectations, your Highness, but I don’t think you need me to remind you that this is purely experimental, and I cannot guarantee success without running simulations first…which, as you well know, is an impossibility at this point.”

“I remember, but thank you for the reminder,” Zelda reassured Hal even as she gently slipped the flash drive into one of her hidden dress pockets, then sincerely addressed him on a more personal basis in a softer voice. “You’ve worked on this more than anyone else; I probably should fill you in, let you know exactly…”

Again, Hal gave his tired smile even as he blinked once in a remarkably long manner, holding up a hand to stop his princess mid-sentence. “I’m sorry to interrupt, your Highness,” he apologized, “but it’s really alright. Chances are I don’t really want to know. Anything that can chance MPs knocking on my door at night and infuriating my family even further is something I want to actively avoid.”

Zelda managed a humored smile. “I see. But thank you regardless. You must’ve put a great deal of work in it.”

“Sleepless nights are sleepless night,” Hal shrugged good-naturedly, then he dropped his smile as he once again followed more traditional court protocol in front of the princess, now that their unofficial business had concluded. “This is really all I came by for. I shouldn’t be taking up any of your time; I saw Director Leonore waiting for you outside. Bet whatever she has to say is more important.” Hal began to bow out, preparing to complete a gesture of respect for her Highness and leave the room, but Zelda quickly reached over, a hand quickly securing his arm as she took one step closer. Her hushed, conspiring tone immediately caught the doctor’s attention, who understood that this was not any form of advance than it was a secretive discussion.

“Doctor, I have to ask,” Zelda’s expression was serious and devoid of humor, her brows slightly furrowed into a bit of a frown. “Are you aware of any energy technology capable of achieving twenty-three terawatts of output?”

The fact that she had never seen Hal actually upset in any way before made the doctor’s dark look of apprehension and foreboding that much more frightening as he gave Zelda a worried glance and muttered, “So the rumors are true.”

That spiked Zelda’s interest. “Where did you hear the rumors?” she asked.

Hal managed to look appropriately sheepish and embarrassed without actually having to smile, unusual for the good-natured scientist. “Let’s just say,” he noted in an almost whimsical manner, “I’d be concerned about how well the brass over at the Haven can keep secrets, your Highness.”

Zelda had to consciously prevent herself from scowling, the urge translating instead to a mere controlled nod. “Duly noted,” she replied, allowed three seconds for Hal to speak once more, then, realizing that he wasn’t taking the cue, added, “My question still stands.”

“About the technology or about where I heard what I wasn’t supposed to hear?”

“The former.”

Pursing his lips in what was almost a sign of discomfort and insecurity, Hal responded hesitatingly, “I know of a few practical technologies, all of them theoretical. No nation has the capability of achieving more than twenty terawatts within twenty seconds at the moment.”

“Let’s assume the technology exists for a moment. Any idea what it can be used for?”

“Could be used for powering a city grid,” the doctor suggested casually with a straight face.

Zelda frowned; it was easy to see that she wasn’t being impressed by the doctor’s strange sense of humor – or sardonic behavior, if it were that – at the moment. “Hal, this is Valent we’re talking about.”

It was only when Hal, Zelda’s tutor and mentor for so many of her childhood years, looked back at her after turning away with a heavy sigh that she realized Hal, the doctor with the sad, tired smile, would not, for once, be able to provide his princess and pupil with an adequate answer. “I honestly don’t know, your Highness,” he whispered even as he gave that melancholy curve of his lips once more, tucking his hands into his pockets as if the movement registered futility. “No reply I give you would really come close to being a confident answer. All I can say is? If it’s Valent that has its hands on that kind of technology, I really wouldn’t be sleeping soundly if I were you.”

When Doctor Hal realized that the weight of his words had clamped down on Zelda’s lips and that she, in her cold realization and worry, could not quite formulate a good response, Hal sadly smiled for the last time as he completed the bow he wasn’t able to the first time, and, just as he passed his princess, patted her on the shoulder in the manner that the tutor used to do to the pupil, taking advantage of a moment that pronounced their old relationship. That done, Hal allowed his hand to slip off Zelda’s shoulder, and walked quietly out the door.

*****

“…but keep me posted. Inform the palace staff that I’ll take care of her Highness, and that they should remain on alert.”

Admittedly, Zelda was not giving Leonore her undivided attention even after the two of them, escorted by both Impa and Link, returned to Zelda’s officer on the upper floors of the palace. She wasn’t entirely sure what was upsetting her. That Doctor Hal had no good answer for her was of little surprise, not when the leading experts and intelligence and reconnaissance had gotten nowhere with finding out the truth behind Valent’s energy surge. It still unnerved Zelda somehow, however. Possibly because he had always had all the answers Zelda needed when she was a child and he her tutor, or possibly because he was the leading researcher for most of Hyrule’s scientific projects, one of the most brilliant minds of the century, if not any century. His words somehow carried far more futility than it did from anyone else.

Zelda shook her head. She was being bothered by too many things these days.

“My apologies, your Highness,” Leonore interrupted Zelda’s thoughts even as she slipped a cell phone back into her pocket.

“What was that about?” Zelda tried not to make her voice sound bored and distant. She wasn’t entirely sure she succeeded, but Leonore showed no sign of noticing…probably out of tact rather than obliviousness.

“I had Joint Intelligence call me anytime they received an update for our situation at hand,” Leonore answered. “For obvious security reasons.”

Nodding in a half-hearted gesture of understanding, the crown princess sighed once more as she looked back down on her desk, papers that Leonore had brought with her neatly placed upon the surface. “You understand I need proof before I can bring any legal charges against Admiral Francis,” she remarked, and looked up to bring her troubled gaze to Leonore. Behind the director of Joint Intelligence were Impa and Link, both of whom remained silent. Impa could be trusted to make a comment when necessity called for it, while Link could be trusted to not contribute to the conversation unless asked.

“Not anything I can use to incriminate him yet,” Leonore allowed. “But I must remark that this looks awfully suspicious, especially in light of Admiral Francis’ current actions.”

Sliding a cluster of financial statements and bank documents back over to Leonore, seated on the other side of the desk, Zelda seemed less than convinced; perhaps she deliberately put on such an impression and façade. “I can think of a long list of unethical reasons as to why Admiral Francis is pumping Allen-Rosencrantz,” the princess leaned back against her seat. “But his actions are hardly illegal.”

Leonore shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. But you may want to look at this from a different angle, especially if you’re familiar with Allen-Rosencrantz’s background.”

“I’m listening,” Zelda shrugged.

“Allen-Rosencrantz is a dummy corporation set up by Valentine-founded Rainer Conglomerate Industries three decades ago. Under the Free Technology Trade Act, foreign companies conducting technological trade in Hyrule require a legal partnership with a similar Hylian company; the idea at the time was that shared technologies would prevent the likelihood of extremely sensitive technology being leaked, not to mention a lessened possibility of technology theft. It would be too easy to legally commit technology theft with this act, so it was, in a sense, a measure to force companies on both sides to be careful. This also added a layer of security for both sides of the deal, especially since encryption systems could be shared. Also added a layer of financial oversight. Rainer Conglomerate Industries used Allen-Rosencrantz to sell technology onto the Hylian market…while absorbing technology from its Hylian partner and not having to disclose actual high-level technology, which RCI guarded safely, to its partner.”

Zelda did not need Leonore to elaborate the situation step-by-side as she immediately understood the unspoken words behind Leonore’s explanation, already moving two or three steps ahead. “You’re suspecting that Allen-Rosencrantz might still be affiliated with RCI despite it having moved most of its Valent-based assets to Hyrule after the Valentine Revolution,” Zelda spoke softly but with an edge in her voice even as she leaned forward, clasping her hands together right in front of her chin while she settled her elbows on the desk. “If it’s true, this can raise some rather complicated problems, especially since RCI has undoubtedly been ‘nationalized’.”

“And can easily be acting as a front for Valentine intelligence, yes,” Leonore concurred.

Giving herself several moments to mull these new pieces of information over and attempt to fit them together to weigh possibilities, it was not until fifteen seconds later that Zelda asked, “How far do you think Admiral Francis’ involvement goes?”

“Unknown. Worst case scenario is that he’s in full collaboration with Valentine intelligence – which I doubt. Hopefully, he’s merely an unwitting pawn…but that doesn’t make him less dangerous. I’m not surprised he’s suddenly putting Hylian forces on alert. I’m supposed to inform you…” she plucked out her cell phone and waved it in her hand, referring to the call she had received earlier, “…that security measures have been increased, now that he’s declared a raise in threat level.”

Zelda scrunched her brows into a clear frown. Events were moving far too fast for her liking, and she did not believe in coincidences occurring in rapid succession. Her lips parted as she prepared to speak, but she had not managed to utter the first syllable when a flash outside her window, combined with what felt like a distant rumbling, caught her attention. She wasn’t the only one that had noticed it; Leonore suddenly rose to her feet as her attention went towards the window, Impa seemed surprised and looked in the same direction, and Link was already moving towards the princess briskly and rapidly.

One second later, the sound of what sounded very much like an explosion was finally reached Hyrule Palace and shook the glass windows even as the sound reverberated in the massive office.

“What was that?” Zelda asked, immediately alarmed as she rose to her feet and attempted to move towards the window, but Link had already grabbed her by the arm and was moving her out of the office, ignoring feeble resistance from his princess, followed immediately by Leonore, who shared the same brisk determination and understanding as Link, and Impa, who was less certain of what was going on but not reluctant to follow where everyone else was going.

The explosion that blasted through her desk where she had been sitting before and tearing down that half of the office, even as Link immediately pushed Zelda onto the ground and shielded her with his body while rubble rained around them and dust engulfed her surroundings and the shockwave overwhelmed her senses, answered her question just as she lost consciousness.

*****

Although Princess Zelda had no way of knowing at the moment, the three Valentine tank divisions that had been moved to the border the night before were joined in the afternoon by another tank division and four infantry divisions, raising the total number of troops at the border to a stunning one hundred thirty thousand soldiers that was reorganized into the Valentine Sixth, Eighth, and Twelfth Corps. The ground forces had in possession more than four hundred armored vehicles, including tanks and artillery pieces. Like most successful surprise attacks in history, Valent achieved complete surprise through the very judicious use of the radio, ensuring that the Hylian Office of Long-Range Electronic Reconnaissance would not be able to intercept their communications, and chose to move their forces in conjunction with bad weather where photo-optic surveillance would be more difficult.

Although Princess Zelda had no way of knowing at the moment, the three corps initiated a three-way blitzkrieg against Hyrule City, with the Sixth and Eighth Corps taking up positions north and south of the city to cordon off the city from enemy reinforcements and provide artillery support, and the Twelfth Corps conducting the actual invasion of the city, having been specially trained for urban combat. The operation had been deliberately set at dinner time, where most of the capital staff would either be eating dinner with their families or on their way home, and wouldn’t be able to immediately respond to the incoming threat.

Although Princess Zelda had no way of knowing at the moment, the Sixth and Eighth Corps had pinpointed and destroyed various targets of opportunity within the city using long-range artillery within the first hour of the operation, including the McKinley Air Force Base, Fort Patterson, and the Haven, Hyrule’s military headquarters. This not only deprived the defending Hylian forces in the city of sufficient cover and defenses upon which to fall back, but also greatly reduced the number of deployable soldiers, many of whom were caught in artillery fire while at the base. Many more soldiers, having been off-duty, were unable to procure their weapons and equipment in the chaos that ensued, and were casualties in their own right. Most importantly, it deprived the entire nation of its military command, and left the Hylian armed forces across the country uncoordinated and uncertain of what to do next, giving the Valentine army several valuable hours to secure the capital city as infantry and tank divisions flooded the streets, slowly but surely eliminating pockets of Hylian resistance in ferocious house-to-house fighting. The city was already beginning to experience ruin as primary power was cut, and the capital went dark even after secondary emergency generators came back on, dooming the city to imminent takeover. Valentine air power, having sent up an air wing to secure air superiority with just shy of one hundred fighter jets, added to this dreadful premonition, ensuring that aerial reinforcements from Hyrule could not assist in the defense.

Although Princess Zelda had no way of knowing at the moment, the attack on Hyrule City was by no means an isolated offensive; aside from the army and the air force, the Valentine navy had also been activated, with the Third and Sixth Fleet keeping Hylian naval forces in the Aurora Ocean north of the continent at a stalemate, preventing superior Hylian naval power from providing long-range support to its army and air force cousins. And while the Valentine Fifth and Eleventh Corps continued to vigilantly defend their borders from a possible counterattack, the newly-organized Fourth, Seventh, Ninth, and Tenth Corps, two hundred and fifty thousand strong, crossed the Gerudo-Valentine border and launched their assault on northwestern Gerudo, taking three separate cities completely by surprise. Two wings of fighter-bombers complimented the assault, and the Gerudo capital was saved only by its great distance from the Gerudo-Valentine border as its northwestern territories fell before the Valentine onslaught.

Although Princess Zelda had no way of knowing at the moment, the opening shots had been fired by Valent, and the war had started.

*****

Exoria File #001
Uniform and Color Coding of Hyrule

The advancement of Hylian society from medieval ages to modern ages has seen more uniformity and simplicity when it comes to clothing for official stations. The usual suit-and-tie dominates Hyrule’s government offices now, replacing men and women dressed in varying, unique robes and tunics. Not a nation to lose its taste of aesthetics, however, Hyrule has still maintained the use of designs and color-coding to indicate the department and rank of government officials everywhere. As the national colors of Hyrule are blue and white, most uniforms incorporate some form of blue into their clothing. For example, the staff responding directly to the royal family, such as Impa, Zelda’s chief of staff, can be found wearing clothes of blue and purple. Class A uniforms for commissioned officers of the military can be found in white and blue with angular design; these designs tend to become more simple as rank goes up, surprisingly. There are, of course, exceptions; most intelligence services choose to utilize black suits and ties with white shirts to make it difficult for non-intelligence personnel or foreign spies to immediately recognize which agency they belong to, with the exception of Joint Intelligence, which has an all-black clothing scheme, such as Link. Except for departments related to the military and intelligence services, higher-ranked officials in Hyrule’s departments may choose to wear their own clothes to work as long as they follow the traditions and colors of their office as opposed to the standardized uniforms.

Exoria File #002
Hylian Joint Intelligence

Until five decades ago, Hyrule’s intelligence agencies only possessed intelligence-gathering protocols and equipment, leaving actual black operations and counter-terrorist operations to the clandestine arm of the military. It required cooperation between two rather unrelated departments, which did not always go well. Military intelligence specialized only in wartime intelligence, and did not possess the proper capability to operate small-scale, clandestine operations where terrorism, counter-insurgency, and assassinations may be concerned. During the Second Southern Gerudo Civil War, the Hylian royal family secretly signed Direct Executive Order #1942, which created the Office of Joint Clandestine Operations using selected personnel from both Hyrule’s various intelligence agencies and the military in an effort to launch highly clandestine and coordinated covert operations into Gerudo to secure Hylian interests while maintaining plausible deniability. It effectively functioned as both an intelligence-gathering organization and a covert armed service. Its performance in the civil war was highly exceptional, which led to the Office of Joint Clandestine Operations being upgraded to the umbrella organization for all of Hyrule’s intelligence services while being renamed to Hylian Joint Intelligence when the organization was eventually declassified and made known to the public. Despite public awareness of the organization, much of Joint Intelligence’s operations, protocols, and modus operandi remain top secret. They are assumed, however, to have first priority when it comes to equipment and manpower in the Hylian intelligence community, and the Director of Joint Intelligence is known as one of the few people who are “allowed to wake the King with a nighttime telephone call”. Due to its near-universal role in intelligence-gathering, however, Joint Intelligence has effectively earned a small degree of ire and contempt from military and other intelligence agencies, who see them as having far too much influence. Lenore is the fourth Director of Joint Intelligence, who was designated by her predecessor after much personal pressure from the Hylian royal family.

Chapter Two is now up, making the point where the action begins to really pick up. Please read and review, and, as usual, be kind enough to leave comments on both the forums and FF.net. Thank you~ ^_^

*****

Chapter Two

Crown Princess Zelda neither dreamed nor hallucinated in the hours she had spent unconscious, so she did not wake startled into a world dimmed by battle and destruction, and yet, strangely enough, the moment she opened her eyes in awakening was also the moment that all of her previous recollections – namely, an artillery shell having taken out half her spacious office while Agent Link was moving her out – came back to her, and there was an instant where her intellect placed all that information into place in a way not unlike how a child would put together a jigsaw puzzle before she realized the predicament she was in. The calm realization that she was somehow caught in some sort of battle over the city – the dim lighting in the room she was in, coupled with distant sounds of gunfire and explosions, confirmed this – dawned upon her rather rapidly even as she slowly sat up from where she had been lying down, and it frightened her how fast she was able to accept this. Leaders were supposed to dread the day that their nations were caught up in a war on their own soil, and pray it never happened; that she could accept the situation so rapidly suddenly made Zelda quite self-conscious of how she was supposed to feel for her nation.

Expectedly, Link was the first to see that Zelda had regained consciousness, and his movements, fluid and subdued, caught the attention of Impa and Leonore nearby as the Joint Intelligence agent moved over to ensure his princess was safe. Leonore seemed sufficiently upset, as if what was happening was a great irritation, while Impa was quite distressed, obviously having been concerned over the well-being of her charge. Already, Link was beside Zelda, helping her up to a sitting position; as the princess’ mind cleared, her eyes adjusted and she saw that she was being propped upright on a sofa. The lights were out – probably due to power being cut somewhere – although the dim glow of emergency lights illuminated the area just enough for Zelda to realize that she was in one of the palace’s many safe room bunkers, an armored, security-sealed room in which the Hylian royal family, as well as key members of government, could be hidden and locked-down if the palace was ever attacked…such as now. Zelda recalled the specifications of the bunker, a ten-by-ten meter safe room, well-furnished with carpets and sofas, possessing enough food and water to last three individuals locked down inside for a week. The doors were reinforced and password-locked, preventing forced entry. The armor was formed from a C-carbon allotrope, and could withstand a direct hit from a ballistic missile. Although, Zelda reminded herself, if we’re in a safe room on the upper floors, we’d probably still be killed when the Portland stone structure of this palace fails, and we come crashing down to the ground.

She decided not to share her worries with the other three occupants.

“Your Highness,” Leonore was the second to reach Zelda as soon as she sat up straight in the sofa, shaking her head once to clear the haziness from her mind. “How do you feel?” The black, compact handgun in Leonore’s hand was equipped with a silencer. Already, Impa was moving herself past both Leonore and Link, looking highly stressed as she quickly placed her hands on Zelda’s shoulders, ascertaining that the princess was truly alright. The display was actually rather endearing, and Zelda allowed herself to entertain a small smile.

“I’m fine,” she confirmed, more for Impa’s sake than Leonore’s. “Just a bit dizzy…” she stopped there, then, looking down the purple royal dress she had been wearing before, slightly tarnished by dust but otherwise undamaged, asked a bit uncertainly, “…Are there any wounds I should be aware about?”

The shake of Leonore’s head dispelled Zelda’s worries. “No, your Highness,” she confirmed. “You were knocked out by the shockwave of what I guess was an artillery shell that hit your office. We didn’t find any wounds on you, so you should be fine.”

Zelda nodded; it was good to know that she was still in a position to take command of the group – no matter how small – if necessary. “How’s the situation looking out there?” She rose to her feet slowly, making sure she didn’t overstrain herself as she did. Thankfully, no wave of nausea ran through her head, something she had been half-expecting. Link immediately stepped back to give the princess some room, making sure his hand was slightly outstretched to provide support for Zelda if she needed it; she didn’t.

Impa applied a bit of pressure on Zelda’s shoulders, trying to have the princess sit back down on the sofa as concern and disapproval flickered across the older woman’s face. “Your Highness, you should rest…” she murmured.

“I’m fine, Impa,” Zelda reassured her chief of staff even as she gently brushed Impa’s hands off her shoulders, smiled kindly and reassuringly at Impa. “I need to know what’s going on. How long was I out?”

“Around three hours,” Leonore responded, as if the question had been directed towards anyone in general instead of Impa, and Zelda barely noticed Link moving away from the peripheral of her vision. “All reports seem to indicate that we’re facing a very coordinated attack from Valent forces. We still aren’t sure of their capabilities or numbers. We do know that there’s enemy infantry and armor on the city streets, and that they have both artillery support and air cover. We’ve managed to intercept fragments of enemy communications; there have been three different corps mentioned so far. Local resistance has been extremely underwhelming…” Leonore paused, took a deep breath, then sighed even as she spoke at the same time, causing Zelda to steel herself mentally, knowing that the news she was to receive was not good at all, “…Your Highness, the Haven was one of the first targets they took out. We practically have no coordination amongst our forces right now, local or nationwide.”

The reception Zelda had towards this update was pronounced with a notable cringe. “Absolutely none?” she asked weakly.

The director of Joint Intelligence made a strange, almost sheepish smile. “Well, I tried coordinating with the soldiers I was able to reach, which only numbers amongst several companies right now, but…” she produced what seemed to be a map of the city with the rough positions of known Hylian defenders and known Valentine aggressors…hastily and completely hand-drawn on printing paper with a ball-point pen, “…as you can see, the verdict is out on that one.”

Zelda’s heart felt like it had dropped to her stomach. “I don’t suppose we should hope that our soldiers can hold out until reinforcements come?”

It was Impa’s turn to shake her head. “I’m afraid not, your Highness. Never mind the fact that local defending forces are heavily outnumbered; they are cut off from the Haven’s armory and have no access to extra weapons or ammunition. The last time we heard from them, the navy was only barely managing to achieve parity in the Aurora Ocean, and will not be able to provide support. McKinley Air Force Base was one of the first targets hit, and the Valentines have air superiority in the area. Most of our regional commanders outside the capital are still trying to procure confirmation of the situation…”

“…Which no one is providing,” Leonore finished.

Only after seconds of silence and a rising urge to sit back down on the sofa did Zelda realize that she was trembling. Her two-year-reign over Hyrule had seen some of the greatest dilemmas for the country’s national defense and security, yet a solution – or at least a temporary countermeasure – could always be found if she concentrated hard enough. Yet with what sounded like complete Valentine supremacy over the theater of operations, Zelda felt, for the first time, completely helpless and powerless. How could it have come to this? Zelda wanted to ask. She felt as if her heart had turned to ash and been blown away. But in front of Impa, Leonore, and Link, she knew better. As long as there were subjects before her, she could not afford to show any weakness that would instill any form of doubt in those she was meant to command. She had to make the best of the situation.

Unsuccessfully forcing herself to stop trembling, Zelda asked quietly, “Any word on my father?”

“We received a report about an hour ago that the King was being evacuated from his West Arlington private residence,” Impa was quick to respond, “accompanied by an armored platoon and his medical staff. We haven’t received any word or update since.”

“Can we raise them back on the radio?”

Leonore gestured lazily towards the radio equipment that Zelda noticed was on a table at the end of the room for the first time, Link silently attempting to adjust the dials and buttons on the radio. “The enemy has been jamming our communications for the last half hour. Link has been trying to circumvent it, but…no luck in that department.” At the mention of his name, Link turned around to gaze upon the conversation going on around him, then provided a suspiciously apologetic shake of his head before turning his attention back to their link to the outside world.

“What about the local populace?” Zelda demanded. “Civilians?”

“Evacuating civilians and non-combat personnel was the first thing our armed forces started doing as soon as they got confirmation that the Haven was hit,” Leonore confirmed with a nod. “They figured the battle was lost and decided to try to get as many people out of there as possible. That’s one thing our armed forces did right. As far as we know, though, they’ve either already pulled out or have been whittled down. The pockets of resistance I’ve been coordinating with have largely been soldiers that have been cut off from the main army, or volunteered to stay behind and hold the line. Frankly, I don’t know how far they’ve gotten with the evacuation effort, or if there’s even still an evacuation effort in this city.”

The pursing of her lips and the intensifying of her lowered gaze were clear signs that Crown Princess Zelda was working her legendary intellect into overtime. Her arms hugged themselves across her stomach even as she slowly paced the dark, carpeted room. Her thoughts quickly gained momentum as she assessed possible options and priorities, looking for a possible way out of this mess…or at least a way to salvage the situation and minimize damage. Both Impa and Leonore were appropriately silent as they watched Zelda silently tick away, the quiet interrupted only by the occasional bursts of static as Link attempted to toy with the radio to no avail.

It was when Zelda refocused her gaze on Impa and Leonore that the occupants of the room understood Zelda had gotten somewhere with her brainstorm. “The first and foremost objective we need to achieve is to re-establish our chain of command, confirm contact with our armed forces across the nation, and gain a line of communication with Gerudo. We were attacked first without provocation; we should have the moral high ground, and Gerudo will be obligated to assist us. A Valentine invasion into Hyrule works to Gerudo’s favor; their economy is being kept afloat only by trade with us, as their national economy is dropping due to their recession.”

“You’re suggesting that we leave the safe room and find somewhere to reorganize and regroup,” Leonore spoke slowly and deliberately.

For some reason, Zelda couldn’t help but feel that Leonore’s voice reflected disapproval. “You do not sound like you agree with my train of thought.”

It was Leonore’s turn to purse her lips, although it was less about trying to see the big picture as much as it was trying to force the big picture onto her princess. “Your Highness,” she continued to speak in that word-by-word manner with lack of emphasis on any particular syllable, “we currently have lost contact with the only other living sovereign of this nation. I beg your forgiveness for saying so, but your father’s survival is only symbolic in nature; his Majesty is not capable of taking the role of active sovereign of this nation. The mantle falls upon you, your Highness. If you were to be captured by Valentine forces by leaving this safe room – a safe room which the Valentines don’t actually know you’re in, where we can stay low for a week – it may permanently cripple both the morale and the effectiveness of our armed forces.”

“I cannot raise the morale or effectiveness of my troops if I am locked away here without outside contact.” Zelda’s voice sounded icy; she was not certain why she was being so confrontational towards Leonore.

Leonore did not take the bait and remained calm. “No, you cannot, but at least you won’t be causing morale to skydive. We’re only several hours into the attack, but our armed forces will eventually learn that the capital was attacked. The remnants of our military forces will find a way to coordinate with each other, even without the Haven, and they will initiate a counteroffensive on Valentine forces here in Hyrule City. We can stay here, safe, for a week until reinforcements arrive. And if you are captured – a very real possibility, as we are without backup against an invasion force – you are giving the enemy a chance to gain codes that a member of the royal family and the director of Joint Intelligence are privy to. We don’t need to give the enemy another advantage needlessly.”

Although Zelda seemed rather calm and composed, anyone looking at her could tell that she was holding back a certain amount of anger…anger at Leonore, anger at the situation, or anger at herself, no one was entirely sure. “You’re suggesting that I stay here like a coward while waiting for reinforcements.”

Despite attempting to stay calm and reasonable, Leonore, Link noticed even as he quietly listened in to the conversation, was slowly beginning to become more irate at the princess’ behavior, which almost seemed to be singled out towards Leonore. “No one doubts your courage, your Highness,” Leonore sighed. “But you must look at the situation from an objective point of view. You are the sovereign of Hyrule; your personal pride cannot come before the welfare of this nation.”

The two women looked at each other in a chilly impasse, both standing and staring down at each other in what was clearly an intensifying exchange of scrutiny, appraisal, and frustration, if not outright distrust. From beside, Impa nervously pursed her lips as she looked from one female to another, while Link pretended he did not notice the heated debate going on. Zelda and Leonore glared at each other unimpaired.

Zelda finally spoke first as she closed her eyes, seemingly in an effort to dampen what was undoubtedly rising ire; it was the first time in a long time that she had actually gotten into an outright argument with a high-ranking member of her government. Yet as much as Leonore made her arguments – armed with very good points, Zelda had to admit – she could not bring herself to follow Leonore’s suggestion. Was it honestly on part of her own judgment, or a bias against the woman who had sent her half-brother to her death? Zelda honestly wasn’t entirely sure, but emotions were running high, and even if she didn’t like to admit it, they were, in one way or another, affecting her judgment.

“Duly noted, Director Leonore,” Zelda finally breathed in allowance, as much as she was going to give the director of Joint Intelligence. “However, I still press my point. We may not have the luxury of a week. Judging by what you’d told me about the Valentine invasion effort, I believe that we may be facing defeat anyways if we do not attempt to coordinate our counteroffensive efforts immediately. My staying here, awaiting for rescue, matters little if our military forces are destroyed.”

Leonore’s lips were pressed into a thin line, almost invisible had it not been against the backdrop of pale skin pressed tightly together. “You don’t know that will happen, your Highness.”

“You can’t be sure my capture is certain either,” the princess countered.

Again, an impasse, except Leonore’s self-conflict on this issue was much more apparent. She knew she didn’t have the authority to stop Zelda; it was more of a matter of how to talk sense into this hardheaded princess. Therefore, Link was mildly surprised – to the point where he actually turned his head around back towards the conversation for a moment or two – when Leonore finally sighed in a mixture of exasperation and futility and conceded to Zelda’s point.

“Alright, your Highness,” she breathed deeply. “If I cannot dissuade you from keeping yourself out of harm, allow me to make a suggestion as to your destination instead.”

An eyebrow raised. “Which is…?” Zelda asked.

“Garuda.”

It was Impa’s turn to sound inquisitive. “The capital of Gerudo?”

“The Hylian-Gerudo border is only a bit further than the closest military base that we’ve not received a report of an attack on so far. And although we haven’t heard of any attacks on nearby military bases outside McKinley, I’m willing to bet that nearby regional bases were hit hard too. It’ll be difficult, if not outright impossible, trying to get there if there’s a battle over these bases between our forces and theirs. By comparison, Valent probably figures that Gerudo requires several days to decide to support us militaristically, even more to properly garner the military forces for the counterattack, making the border a more feasible option. Plus Garuda City has a developed infrastructure for you to properly communicate with and command Hylian forces in the nation, and I’m sure Generalissimo Ganondorf would be more willing to acquiesce to your requests if you meet him in person. If we can put the Gerudo military into play, it’ll also be easier for the two nations to initiate a joint-campaign against Valent if both of you are in the same room.”

This was an argument that Zelda was not able to refute; it was highly unlikely that, with what had happened so far, Gerudo would ally with Valent, considering Generalissimo Ganondorf’s staunch stance against the Valentine isolationist regime. The chances that they were in covert cohorts were even lower; Joint Intelligence had been watching the movements of the generalissimo and his staff for years. “I concur with your analysis,” Zelda nodded. “We should split into groups of two. It’ll decrease our chances of being discovered, as well as the chances of all of us being captured at once. It won’t do us any good if the crown princess, her chief of staff, and the DJI are all caught in one go.”

“I agree. I’ll go with Impa. Take Agent Link with you.”

Despite almost expecting such a pairing, Zelda couldn’t help but look surprised. Link, now that he was mentioned, finally detached himself from his futile attempt of circumventing enemy jamming and joined the circle, although not the conversation. For the first time, Zelda consciously realized that the Joint Intelligence agent was still wearing his sunglasses despite the dim lighting.

Leonore caught Zelda’s look and quickly explained. “Link is better trained for field work than I am. He and I are the only ones that have had field training, so we have to be apart, escorting one of you. But you’ll have better chances with Link than you’ll have with me; I’ve been sitting behind a desk for too long.”

Impa was just as quick to agree. “She’s right, your Highness,” she spoke in a placating voice that made Zelda suspicious of Impa’s intent, as if her chief of staff was trying to defuse an argument rather than look for the best choice of action. “You’re far more important to the strategic effort than I am. The entire effort must be focused on you.”

The frown on Zelda’s brow clearly showed that she didn’t like the idea, not out of suspicion or disapproval, but worry over her chief of staff, the woman who had been watching over her almost like a mother for what had been eighteen years. Feelings of worry and anxiety flickered across Zelda’s face even as she struggled with her inner feelings over this decision, knowing that neither Impa nor Leonore would accept any other option, not when the safety of their princess was at stake. “Impa…” the princess whispered even as she took a step closer to her chief of staff, temporarily indifferent to what was otherwise a large crack of her queenly mask.

Impa offered what amounted as a reassuring smile from a woman who had seen enough of age to be unafraid of death. “Worry not, your Highness,” she reassured Zelda, and, for a moment, they were, once again, chaperon and child instead of servant and princess, an adult comforting a child. “I’ll get to Garuda City safely. This old woman still has some flame left in her. You keep your head down, and make sure you get to Garuda safe and sound, alright?”

Leonore offered the two a moment to themselves even as she took to another corner of the room, Link silently joining her; he knew that she wouldn’t be letting him off the hook without at least the briefest of briefings. Sparing Zelda and Impa a quick glance, Leonore turned her attention to the young Joint Intelligence agent. “I don’t think I need to tell you how long the odds are going to be,” she muttered; her voice edged close to an exasperated sigh.

Strangely enough, Link felt a genuine calm settle over him. It wasn’t any type of bravado as much as it was an uncanny absence of anxiety. It wasn’t that he wasn’t appreciating their abysmally low chances of escape; Link nodded, confirming that Leonore’s analysis was right: It was going to be a very long shot. The chances of being killed were, in fact, quite high. He appreciated the odds, but it was mostly that, an appreciation of the statistics and the outcome; emotions and personal premonitions didn’t come into it.

Noting Link’s agreement and seeming lack of fear over what was otherwise a suicide mission, Leonore let out a true sigh this time. Signs of worry flickered across Leonore’s weathered face, but they only lasted for a moment before her features hardened themselves once more, and she sounded like a strict disciplinarian. “No matter what happens,” Leonore quietly instructed, ensuring that Zelda couldn’t hear her, “remember that you’re protecting the princess. Her life is priority, so you must take any option that means her survival...” she allowed her point to sink in for a few seconds before adding, rather importantly, “…even if it means surrendering to the enemy forces.”

That surprised Link some; although Leonore couldn’t see his eyes, she certainly could see the eyebrows behind the sunglasses arching in interest.

“Don’t get into a firefight or a situation that might get the princess killed,” the director explained. “I don’t like her plan, but it’s her plan. Just make sure she stays alive.” She closed her eyes in what otherwise seemed like an expression of frustration, then sighed. “The same goes for you too. Someone needs to keep an eye on the princess, even if both of you are prisoners of war. I doubt they’ll give you the chance to declare yourself a civilian despite the fact you’re a member of Joint Intelligence, not the military.”

There was clear hesitation on Link’s part – surrender clearly had not crossed his mind before Leonore mentioned it – but he eventually nodded slowly, if not somewhat apprehensively. Leonore managed a small smile; the young man had never failed any attempt to prove his courage, and now this was the result. She took a moment to pat the agent on the shoulder twice, as if the gesture was a wish of good luck, before she removed her hand from his shoulder and, adopting a more serious expression, turned back towards Zelda and Impa. “We need to go,” she said sternly. “The later we leave, the easier it’ll be for the Valentine forces to lock this city down. We need to move while there are still pockets of Hylian resistance left to occupy Valentine attention.”

Seeing that it was time to go, Impa took a step away from Zelda, moving towards Leonore; Zelda was clearly reluctant to see her chief of staff go, but the crack in her queenly mask was beginning to repair itself, and, again, she seemed more composed, more sure of herself. “It’s time,” Impa whispered.

Leonore checked the magazine of her silenced handgun, then slid the cartridge back into the handgun, cocked it. “We’ll go first, see what’s up ahead, attract attention if we have to,” she said even as she stood beside the control panels to the metallic blast doors. “That way, if something happens to us, at least you’ll have room to turn around.” She made a motion for Zelda and Impa to seek cover, and they quickly moved up against the wall; Leonore keyed in a command, and let the double doors slide silently away even as she stacked up on the right side of the exit, preparing to engage any hostiles that might just be outside waiting for them. Link mimicked the motion on the left side, his hand reaching under his jacket in preparation to pull out his sidearm if needed.

The doors made a muffled click as they slid fully open and stopped on both sides of the entrance. There was no one outside in the darkened corridors, lit only by ambient moonlight and fires from a distance outside. Somehow, despite the battle having started only a bit more than three hours ago, Hyrule Palace felt like it had been abandoned for over thirty years instead. The feeling felt unsettling to Princess Zelda.

Slowly sticking her head out into the corridor, Leonore confirmed that there was indeed no one outside. She was more concerned of a patrol than an improbable ambush, which would’ve been a much larger force that would not need to rely on stealth camped right outside the door; there were dozens of safe rooms across Hyrule Castle, and the Valentine forces wouldn’t have known which one Zelda was in anyways. After ensuring the coast was clear, she quickly stepped out. The click-clacking of her high-heels alerted her to that potential problem, and, without hesitation, she quickly took them off and threw them back into the safe room, deciding to go barefoot. Impa, with a bit more hesitation and much more reluctance, copied the motion.

Ensuring that Impa was behind her and following, Leonore turned back around to see both Zelda and Link standing there with stoic expressions on their faces; it was only natural for Link, but Leonore could tell that the lack of expression on Zelda’s part was forced. Leonore gave what was an otherwise unreadable glance towards Link for just a few seconds…before turning her attention back to the princess. Her words were soft and kind as they left her lips. “Take care, your Highness, and be safe. We’ll see you in Garuda.”

And, with those words, the two women disappeared into the darkness.

Zelda stood there, watching where they had disappeared in silence and invisible anxiety. Link was not a mind reader, but he could tell what the princess was thinking, and decided to allow her to keep to herself for the time being. He checked himself over for a quick moment, making sure that his attire – black suit, black shirt, black tie – were all in order and that they wouldn’t become a liability later in combat. Three minutes had passed on his watch when he decided that he had allowed Leonore and Impa to take long enough a head start, and stepped in front of Zelda, out into the hallway. He swiveled his head around, glanced over his shoulder even as he drew his handgun from under his black jacket, nodded to his princess with the clear message that it was time to go. It was only several seconds later that Zelda quietly nodded back.

They, too, moved on into the darkness.

*****

That electricity was cut turned out to be a blessing of sorts to both Link and Zelda. While the entire Hylian defense system was offline and local resistance had little in the way to retaliate, it did mean that it provided both of them with an extra measure of stealth. This was especially so for Link, dressed entirely in black, whose clothing allowed him to camouflage with his darkened surroundings; this effect was only drastically enhanced by his proficiency in covert operations and stealth infiltration. This was less so for Zelda, who neither wore black nor was trained to be sneaky, but her clothing was dark enough and matched the blue hues of Hyrule Castle.

For the most part, they passed undetected even as they painstakingly made their way slowly through the palace, Link taking up the fore and silently motioning for Zelda to follow whenever he made sure the coast was clear. Their attempt at sneaking out was assisted by the fact that there was, in fact, very little in terms of Valentine forces in the area. In fact, the only Valentine soldier found in the area was a straggler or two looking for a place to lay low; it was clear that the aim of the operation was more pragmatic than it was symbolic, and the priority was the Haven over Hyrule Castle. Capturing the princess would be an excellent development indeed, but destroying the Hylian armed forces’ capability to coordinate and react was an even more important strategic goal.

It was ironic, but the greatest threat to their national strategy was, in fact, the factor that was giving Link and Zelda quite a bit of good fortune at the moment.

Electricity no longer reached the elevators, and Link wouldn’t have allowed them to take the elevator even if they had been activated anyways, so descending from the safe room – which turned out to be on the sixth floor – to the basement became an effort to conquer the downward descent of various staircases. They were, thankfully, for the most part, empty, and it took them less than half an hour of careful navigating to get down to the main wing and find the auxiliary emergency staircase, the one that wouldn’t ring the still-active alarms, to the basement.

The basement was completely unlit save for a few emergency lights, and moonlight did not seem to come down to the lower levels at all, but, thankfully, Link was equipped with a small flashlight that seemed to be built into a pen. It was, by no means, powerful, but it was enough for them to make out roughly where they were going. It was by turning down several hallways that Zelda realized Link was taking her through a little-known underground passageway that linked the Senate Hall to Hyrule Palace more than a kilometer away. Under normal circumstances, the corridor would be sealed via several locked metallic doors running on independent generators, as well as armed soldiers at both entrances, to prevent unauthorized entry. There were no soldiers here, however, and the metallic blast doors were opened with Zelda’s personal password, which allowed them to move on and seal every door behind them.

The Senate Hall was host to a battle at some point. As they emerged from the basement of the Senate Hall, Link and Zelda quickly saw that the walls were marked with a great deal of bullet holes, while walls had crumbled away from what seemed like artillery fire and explosive weaponry. The shape and frame of the massive seven-story building were still largely intact, but the damage was extensive enough for Zelda to cast forlorn looks across what was once a magnificent work of architecture. She did not necessarily miss the building, representing her two years of struggle against opposing senators on the floor of the Senate, but, as if the distant sounds of gunfire and explosions didn’t do so, the devastation around them drove in the point that the enemy was winning.

The point was even more obviously pronounced when they came across the first dead bodies.

The path from the Senate Hall to the Haven was the length of two city blocks, both of which housed government office buildings, yet the entire path was filled with the corpses of dead soldiers and burning vehicle husks, Hylian and Valentine alike. It was clear that a furious battle had been fought here, but the overwhelming number of Hylian bodies, limp and sagging on the ground and behind cover, made it clear that the invasion force was simply overwhelming, and the Hylian defenders never stood much of a chance. It was at this scene of destruction and death that Zelda truly felt a sense of dread as she covered her mouth with a gloved hand, her eyes wide in what was not necessarily fear, but shock and revelation. She couldn’t tell what Link felt about this; his sunglasses blocked out any attempt to read his feelings through the eyes. Sensing the slowing of her pace and the hesitance of her gait, Link quietly but empathetically took Zelda by the wrist and helped pull her along, deliberately staying close to walls and alleys to avoid patrols…and ensure his princess was away from the death and the carnage. The brittle breaths that Zelda took clearly indicated that she was shaken to the core by such a sight.

It was the sight of a devastated capital city.

Things only got worse as they emerged from the last alley and re-emerged to see the side of the Haven. Although they were only at the perimeter, next to a metallic barbed wire fence that had been run down, they could clearly see that this was the one point where the fighting had been most ferocious. Half the building was gone and burning; a pillar of black smoke was cast with an amber light from the flames below that burnt what was left of the Haven, a collection of rubble created from two hours of heavy bombardment from the Valentine Sixth and Eighth Corps, armed with large artillery pieces. Once the symbol of Hylian military might, the building now lay in shambles; Hyrule’s military headquarters looked like they were ancient ruins, and the tanks and fighting vehicles guarding it had been destroyed and abandoned. The battle for the Haven was clearly over, and the only people left here were Valentine patrols guarding the relic of their decisive victory. There was a strange lack of dead bodies, something that Link appreciated…because he knew what Zelda didn’t: Most of the bodies were inside the building, buried beneath the collapsed superstructure, being caught in the collapse when the artillery blasted the Haven.

It was either her shock or her feeling that Link seemed to know exactly what he was doing that was contributing to Zelda’s silence, not asking exactly where Link was going despite having been led across half of the capital’s city center for over an hour. But Zelda hesitated just a bit as she realized Link was pulling her inside one of the entrances of the Haven, at least one that was still intact. Link felt just a bit of resistance in Zelda’s gait, turned around to see exactly what was wrong. She seemed to realize this, and made a flustered expression at being caught; to be honest, she had been hesitant to enter what she now considered a ghost building. A very human reluctance to enter a place that was likely to reinforce her belief that they were losing and dying had taken over for just a bit…but she quickly shook her head to make up for it. “It’s fine,” Zelda whispered quickly, trying to reassure Link that it was okay to go on…

…Then froze as, in the peripheral of her vision, she caught sight of a three-man Valentine patrol emerging from the rubble of the Haven’s outer walls twenty meters away. The widening of her eyes was enough of an alert for Link, who immediately turned around and adopted a feral position. The opposition, three fully armed soldiers wearing green military fatigues and carrying assault rifles, saw them too, and froze just a bit; it was clear the patrol had not been expecting to find any survivors.

Link did not freeze. Already his left arm came up, shooting into a straight line as the sidearm in his hand quickly aimed at the Valentine soldiers up ahead, crouching even as his free right hand immediately shot for Zelda’s shoulder without looking, pressing her down into a crouching position with him. It was only as Link outstretched his weapon that Zelda suddenly realized that the handgun was actually quite fancy, elongated, and bulky; it seemed more like a large machine pistol or a small submachine gun than a simple semi-automatic handgun. She probably would’ve wondered how Link – and all the other Joint Intelligence agents, for that matter – managed to keep so large a weapon under their jackets without other people detecting a bulge under it, and she probably would’ve assumed that this was the responsibility of some specially-designed feature in Joint Intelligence uniforms…had her life not been in immediate peril. As it turned out, the threat against what possibly was her life was one hell of a distraction.

In her fright, Zelda did not immediately notice that Link’s firearm had already discharged. It was only after one of the Valentine soldiers suddenly dropped to the ground with a clean hole in his chest that she realized Link’s handgun was internally suppressed, the muzzle flash cut down to a minimum and the gunshot sounding akin to a hands clapping underwater. With one soldier down, Link’s aim immediately shifted ever so slightly to the right, and a double-tap, two shots in rapid succession, brought the second man his knees as the shots found their mark in the chest once more. Even as the second man fell, however, Link did not try to align for a third shot; in one fluid motion, he quickly spun backwards even as his right arm scooped itself around Zelda’s thin torso and pulled her back with him. A near-dismissible fraction of a second later, automatic assault rifle rounds pinged across and tore at the stone wall that Link had been beside just a moment before, the third soldier completing the raising of her rifle and firing at the corner behind which Link and Zelda were hiding.

Even as Zelda pressed and huddled herself against the wall – she was actually strangely in control of her wits, yet shaken at her first time being subjected to gunfire – she noticed that Link seemed to be muttering something voicelessly; although she was no lip-reader, she could’ve guessed that Link was mouthing numbers. It was not until Link feinted a peek out, allowing his body to show the barest of a fraction beyond the corner he hid behind and into the line of sight of the soldier he was hiding from, and not until the Valentine soldier fired once again at the hastily-abandoned corner before Link started mouthing numbers again that Zelda realized that Link was trying to count the number of bullets still in the soldier’s assault rifle before she had to change magazines, giving Link an opportunity to advance.

Unfortunately, what Link knew – and what Zelda did not know but could guess by the proximity of the gunshot sounds she had heard that round – was that the soldier had traversed a considerable amount of ground between the first and second rounds. There was no longer enough distance between the two of them for Link to try to make the soldier expend her magazine – which contained roughly, Link guessed, thirteen rounds – and force an opening.

This required a very different set of tactics.

Zelda could not exactly see what was happening, but she could guess – and rather accurately so – that the situation was dire, and that a handgun in the hands of an unarmored Joint Intelligent agent was not a very good match against a fully automatic assault rifle in the hands of a Valentine soldier wearing combat fatigues. She did not, however, take one factor into account of her breathless analysis as Link silently thumbed a switch on his weapon: His handgun was not a handgun at all.

For Crown Princess Zelda, it happened in an instant. The soldier had barely managed to round the corner, keeping a range of two meters around the bend, when Link shot forward. There was one flash, a flash that actually made Zelda cry out as her hands instinctively covered her head and the adrenaline spiked through her system, her mind instantly making the assumption that a shot had been fired…before, through the gap in between her arms, Zelda suddenly watched, stunned, as the assault rifle was severed cleanly into two in the hands of the Valentine soldier, who watched with equal disbelief as the forward portion of her assault rifle simply slid off and began falling to the ground. The flash had surprised the soldier, and reflex told her to immediately take three steps back even as she pulled on the trigger of her now-defunct assault rifle, clicking futilely three times every time she slammed on the trigger.

Link followed up with three wider steps forward, and training and instinct immediately took over as the Valentine soldier quickly took pulled out a combat knife for close-quarters combat. There was a second flash, and, in that instant, the knife was flying out of her hands, sparks flying where something had struck across it blade and knocked it violently out of her grasp.

There was a third, final flash…and Zelda watched in wide-eyed silence as a clean gash appeared across the chest of the soldier, as if something had slashed across it, and she, too, finally fell to the ground lifelessly.

It was only after confirming that the Valentine infantrywoman remained unmoving on the ground that Zelda finally returned her gaze on Link, who stood calmly with one hand extended in the air in what almost seemed like a composed fencing stance. The weapon in his hand was no longer a handgun; instead, what was effectively a seemingly collapsible blade emerging almost a meter from his grip, formed from what seemed like a number of smaller blades, creating a weapon that bore a resemblance to a longsword, albeit one with the handle of a firearm. A flourish of his arm allowed him to trigger a switch on the weapon once more, and Zelda finally understood why Link’s weapon had seemed bulky and long compared to a normal sidearm; as the blades folded on itself twice by power of mechanical bolts, they locked themselves back around the barrel of Link’s firearm, hiding the blades once more like a giant collapsible army knife as it took the form of a large handgun once more.

It was only then that Zelda realized Link’s weapon of choice was a gunsword.

From the distant reaches of her mind, Zelda barely managed to recall that the gunsword was an exceptionally difficult weapon to use, never mind master, by design; it was neither fully gun nor sword, but a bastardization, something in between. Their high learning curve and difficulty in usage made it impractical for conventional military usage, considering how few soldiers could manage the weapon and how expensive it was to create one. Most gunsword wielders used it as a custom weapon rather than as standardized equipment. This was the first time she had actually ever seen one in use.

Ensuring that the coast was clear once more, Link quickly moved back to where he had left Zelda, three wide steps away and pressed against the way. She seemed shaken, as if she hadn’t been before, but still possessing a great deal of calm. It was the adrenaline, not denial as to what was happening to her, that was temporarily causing her body to shake and turn cold, and Link knew that she would be alright. Even Zelda, who huddled herself close together as she hugged herself tightly, managed a small smile at Link’s otherwise stoic self, an indication that she was fine. “N-Not every day that I get…” Zelda managed, swallowed, fought down a shake, then let out an embarrassed giggle, “…get shot at.”

Link did not smile, but the loosening of his normally serious features coupled with a futile shrug indicated that he appreciated the attempt at humor. Whatever he would’ve done next, however, was interrupted as his head twitched just once from the direction of the rubble, and, immediately, with both arms, he quickly grabbed his princess and twisted further into the entrance, just as assault rifle fire from a second Valentine patrol tore through the air where they were once before, the patrol quickly converging on their position. Without hesitation, Link swiftly pulled Zelda further into the building, deciding against getting into yet another firefight with Valentine forces while having to protect his princess. It certainly did not take long for the two of them to disappear within the ruins of the Haven and lose their pursuers, if only temporarily.

*****

The Haven was remarkably hard to navigate. This had nothing to do with Link’s extent of familiarity with the structure – he had been here often enough – or Valentine patrols within the ruins – there were very few of them, with most patrols concentrated around the perimeter of the building. Instead, the main problem was the extent of the building’s destruction; many hallways and staircases had been utterly destroyed and were effectively gone, and far too many times did Link have to double back with Zelda to find a detour after finding out their path was cut short with a corridor that had caved in.

Link knew he did not have much time to navigate the ruins. They had already been discovered by Valentine patrols, which must have already radioed back to their commanding officers. This meant that a search party would be sent, hunt-and-kill teams sweeping the interior of the Haven. It left him with little time to move, but he found his lucky break when one of the staircases leading down proved to be remarkably intact. The sign at the bottom of the staircase, reading “Armory”, confirmed that he was headed in the right direction.

Pushing through the door, Link found himself leading Zelda along a corridor of white bricks and metallic bars; long cages to their right were filled with military weaponry, from assault rifles to machine guns to grenades to rocket launchers. Unlike the other parts of the Haven, the arsenal of the Haven ran on an independent power source that the Valentine forces seemed to have yet to find and cut, so the area was well-lit, and the security systems were still on. This included the entrances to the armory cages, but handheld weapons weren’t what Link was looking for right now. No matter how powerful a weapon he found here, he wasn’t about to engage the Valentine patrols by himself while having to watch over a vital package in the form of Crown Princess Zelda. He moved right beyond the armory cages, through the door at the end, and down another hallway.

The white brick walls eventually turned into a combination of gray metallic and concrete corridors, and it was at the end of the hallway that the two stopped before another set of security code-locked double metallic doors, clearly labeled “Garage”, indicating the military arsenal for armored vehicles, not parking spaces for Haven employees. Inwardly, Link was actually quite relieved at the sight; the heavy blast doors must’ve been locked when personnel were evacuated from the Haven, and without heavy breaching equipment, Valentine soldiers must’ve been locked out. They probably decided it was more prudent to secure the entire city first before destroying the doors and helping themselves with the whole package of military vehicle goodies. It meant that there shouldn’t be any Valentine troops beyond…and that the vehicles inside should still be untouched.

Tapping the access code – memorized from years of reading briefing packets from Joint Intelligence – into the security console beside the door, Link unlocked the door and listened in silent satisfaction as the reinforcing cylinders rolled away, the lock-jaws unclenched with an audible click, and both doors rolled silently apart.

The lights of the garage were already on. It was within that Link found a mother lode that would make any adrenaline junkie or mechanic have wet dreams for the night: Rows and rows of military vehicles, from tanks to armored personnel carriers to infantry fighting vehicles to buggies to humvees to artillery to mobile ballistic missile launchers. Organized in sections and rows, the army of vehicles lined down to as far as the end of the garage more than two hundred meters away, a steel-and-concrete cache of weapons that probably would’ve beaten back the Valentine invasion…had the soldiers that were supposed to man them got here.

Link did not hesitate in moving forward as soon as the doors were open, although he still remained alert and kept his weapon out even as he stepped in – considering the vehicles dictating the terrain here, this was a very bad place to be caught in an ambush – but he stopped when he realized that Zelda wasn’t following and turned around to see what was wrong. To his surprise, Link found his princess…seemingly afraid. It was a different kind of fear than the one he had witnessed when she was caught in the crossfire with Valentine troops. Although she tried to hide her anxiety, her hands were clasped together tightly while her lower lip trembled just a bit; her gaze was seemingly toward the garage itself. As soon as she noticed that Link had turned around, however, she quickly shook her head with a bit of a flustered expression, and returned to Link’s side. “It’s…” she muttered, took a deep breath, then, with more conviction, “It’s nothing.”

Not entirely convinced, Link shot a quizzical look at Zelda, wondering if there was anything he should be worried about.

Zelda successfully read that look. “I have a…slight fear of vehicles,” she explained in a somewhat feeble manner, giving a small smile of slight embarrassment. “It’s…my parents. Both of them…” She trailed off, leaving Link to figure out the rest. Thankfully, the fates of the Hylian crown princess’ parents were well-known to the public, and Link knew exactly what she was referring to. Not at all unsympathetic, Link gently placed a hand on Zelda’s shoulder, provided a reassuring nod, as if telling her everything was alright.

To be honest, Zelda found Link’s silent way of offering reassurance rather amusing. She wasn’t sure if his intended effect worked, but the gesture was humorous enough to raise her spirits a bit. “It’s okay,” she assured Link, “I’ll be alright. Procuring an escape vehicle is more important right now.”

Slightly confused but largely glad that they were getting a move on, Link merely nodded before he continued to move on, closing and sealing the blast doors behind him, then deliberately taking a low crouch as he moved through the thin gaps between the vehicles instead of the broader roads between the sections that separated vehicle types and models, ensuring that Zelda followed. It gave them a semblance of cover and invisibility; Link had no intention of walking down an open lane and being put down by the sniper hiding somewhere in here. It was unlikely that any Valentine soldier had gotten down here yet, but he didn’t want to take chances.

“So,” the princess whispered even as her eyes darted left and right through the arsenal of military vehicles, trying to find something that caught her eye as something that would make for a good escape vehicle. “What kind of vehicle are we looking for?”

Link didn’t answer, but quickly moved to another section of the garage, where lighter vehicles were lined up, including humvees, jeeps, and two-seater reconnaissance buggies…which Zelda ventured was moreorless the agent’s way of saying “something light and fast”. He certainly was avoiding tanks and infantry fighting vehicles, for the most part, even though they bristled with heavy firepower. Clearly, Link’s priority was geared more towards getting out of the combat zone than busting his way out. Made sense, the crown princess conceded; no one would be looking forward to diving headlong into a firefight with no backup, no reinforcements, no allies, and against a numerically superior enemy with greater firepower. Plus Link was probably focusing only on how to get Zelda out of there. That realization alone helped her mood some.

Although Zelda was not familiar with the layout of this garage, and although Link stepped in irregular patterns, going here and there, she could help but feel that Link was actually looking for something in particular, yet did not know where it was. That problem, however, was remedied when he finally stepped out from the vehicle sections and towards one of the walls of the garage, which had various blast doors connected to them, similar to the one they had entered through. Unlike the one they had passed through, however, these double metallic doors had any combination of words and symbols on them, some denoting restrictive access, others marking engineering teams assigned to whatever project was behind those doors, and even more with what seemed like emblems and insignias not unlike those found for military outfits.

It was roughly in the middle of the entire length of that wall where Link stopped, moving to one set of blast doors that seemed identical to the others. Unlike the others, however, the paint on the steel plates were unusually plain, for the blast doors bore only what seemed like a serial code: MRX402A ULATRV. Moments later, after Link keyed in what was probably a code or a command into the lock console next to it, the unbolting of locking mechanisms were unheard, reinforcing metallic cylinders rolled away, and, with a quiet hiss, the blast doors slid smoothly and soundlessly apart, the lights behind the doors flashing on with industrial power and revealing what was inside.

Zelda could only stare, wide-eyed in utter astonishment and disbelief at the vehicle behind the blast doors. “…No,” was the only word she managed to shakily breathe, taking a slight half-step back even as she uttered that one word. Her phobia aside, she could handle any other vehicle…but she wasn’t getting on that.

Link only grinned.

*****

Sergeant Blanche was relatively glad that her patrol route was actually quite derelict and abandoned. Although she had initially been very nervous when she first received orders that she would be patrolling the area around the Haven, the military heart of Hyrule, her expectations of heavy resistance were quelled when she actually got to the scene; the once proud building representing Hylian military might had been reduced to ruins and rubble after the Sixth Corps pounded away at it with artillery. Resistance was nonexistent; all Hylian personnel must’ve already been evacuated or killed, and the Valentine fireteams dispatched to the area were told that this should be a relatively quiet sector.

If it was any reassurance, the area was actually rather well-lit by moonlight and fires despite power to street lighting being cut during the early phases of the invasion. Other than a few darker alleys that had been cleared out by hunt-and-kill teams an hour ago, the patrols commanded good nighttime visibility. The cityscape glowed with a faint orange; flames of war burned in the distance…which was exactly how Blanche liked it. Not that she was fearful of actual live combat, but she’d rather keep her men alive and away from flying bullets.

Her fireteam of four had actually been split into fire and maneuver teams of two in the interests of covering more ground. A good portion of the initial patrol had been sent inside the Haven along with military intelligence staff in an attempt to see what documents they could salvage from Hyrule’s military headquarters. Probably not a great deal; Blanche was relatively convinced that the Hylian brass – or Valentine artillery – must’ve destroyed any vital documents or data…not to mention the intelligence effort just seemed halfhearted and lackluster as a whole. She wasn’t exactly sure how to explain it, but it seemed as if the intelligence team themselves did not actually expect to find anything…or even care about what information they found here.

On what was probably the seventh round of her patrol across her part of the Haven, the familiar voice of their commanding officer crackled across the radio. A bit of a surprise; as Corporal Roger, who was tasked with her on the same two-man fire and maneuver team, would sarcastically put it, “I thought HQ had forgotten about us.” For now, Blanche quelled that same sentiment even as she listened carefully to the update.

“All units in the Haven armory area,” came HQ’s broadcast, “two high-profile targets have been spotted headed in your direction. We believe that they’re attempting to escape the area. Stop their escape, and try to capture them alive.”

“Patrol 2-5, copy,” Blanche replied immediately. “We’ll keep our eyes peeled.” She immediately re-slung her assault rifle on her shoulder, angling it to a better ready position just in case she needed to be quick on the trigger. Beside her, Corporal Roger did the same even as the other patrols confirmed that they had received new orders over the radio. Like the rest of the light infantry outfit they were part of, the two were both equipped with assault rifles, a handgun, grenades, bulletproof armor, and a helmet with a pair of fold-down nightvision goggles…which should be more than enough to take care of two strays. Blanche still felt that the green fatigues that represented the national colors of Valent did not suit the modern battlefield at nighttime as much as the blue fatigues of their Hylian enemies, but their nightvision goggles and superior numbers should be enough to compensate for that.

“Hey, you hear that?” Roger suddenly stopped in his tracks and bent his knees a bit in caution, slipping his assault rifle into a ready position. Blanche copied his movements while frowning; the corporal had always had better senses, whether it be hearing or sight, than her, making the sergeant feel just a bit inadequate. Quite a bit of effort was put into straining in the attempt to hear whatever Roger was hearing until she was certain she heard something that sounded like a the motor of a vehicle roaring away. Or, rather, screaming; the distant, muted exhaust sounds seemed to distinctly indicate a small vehicle with higher torque.

Blanche looked at Roger, and the two traded silent nods that communicated more between longtime comrades than what words could accomplish for two random individuals. No point in taking chances.

The radio was immediately in Blanche’s hands even as the engine sounds, Roger noticed, began to fade. “Come in, HQ.”

Battalion headquarters was quick to respond. “This is HQ.”

“Patrol 2-5 here. We think your strays may have procured an escape vehicle. Confirm there are no friendly vehicles rolling around in the area and that we’re not mistaken?” Blanche realized that she couldn’t hear the engine sounds anymore, and, looking at Roger, quietly noted that even her own sensitive partner couldn’t either.

Although his voice didn’t reflect it, Lieutenant Colonel Ford, Blanche knew, probably would’ve appreciated the thoughtfulness of ensuring that it wasn’t a friendly vehicle the patrol was hearing. “Stand by” were the two words that came before a rather lengthy pause, with HQ checking all known Valentine assets in the area, before the answer came, “Confirmed, all vehicles are operating roadblocks in your area at this time and standing fast. What vehicle did the targets escape in?”

“We didn’t actually…”

Blanche did not finish that sentence.

It happened suddenly. The whining of the engine had only become audible for a single second, but it was clear by its rapidly increasing volume that the vehicle had suddenly become very close. Both Blanche and Roger had barely turned around towards the source of the sound in great alarm, fearing an ambush, when more than four hundred kilograms of sleek, black, polished metal suddenly flew right between them, soaring with so much force – enough to crush either Valentine soldier had it not slipped right between them – that, for a moment, both soldiers were stunned to immobility. It was traveling extraordinarily fast, almost three hundred kilometers per hour, but, for some strange reason, time seemed to slow down for Blanche. It didn’t do her any favors in terms of allowing her to raise her rifle to shoot the vehicle any faster – or regain her wits any faster, for that matter – but, just for a moment of astounding clarity, she could’ve sworn that, upon that vehicle, she saw a young man dressed completely in black wearing sunglasses – yes, sunglasses, even though it was clearly nighttime – calmly sitting at the controls of the vehicle. Yet what caught the sergeant’s attention more was the young lady, decked out in a purple dress and sitting behind the young man, a very obvious look of terror on her face even as her arms formed a tight death-grip around the young man’s torso, refusing to relinquish her hold on what may be the only physical entity keeping her from being thrown off.

A split-second later, the vehicle quickly swerved in a tight turn, its drift allowing its tires to screech and leave a trail of burnt rubber across its path even as the trajectory formed a mean arc, before it just as instantly disappeared behind another group of debris and rubble and out of sight.

For a very long moment, Sergeant Blanche and Corporal Roger could only stare in bewilderment, as if trying to confirm to themselves that such a thing had actually happened, stunned into complete silence even as their dazed gazes refused to leave where the vehicle disappeared from sight, the distinct growl of its engine growing fainter every passing second.

“What’s going on out there?” came the alarmed voice at HQ over the radio, the lieutenant colonel worried that Patrol 2-5’s transmission had been suddenly cut off. “Respond!”

Blanche barely heard the demand for a response from HQ, barely remembered that the lieutenant colonel would send search teams to the area if they didn’t respond, and barely had the presence of mind to click once more on her radio even as she reported in pathetically, “Uh, HQ? This is Patrol 2-5. They have a motorcycle.”

*****

Exoria File #003
MRX402A ULATRV (Ultra-Light All-Terrain Reconnaissance Vehicle) “Epona”

The MRX402A ULATRV, codenamed “Epona”, is the prototype (as designated by the “A” at the end of its model number) of the fourth-generation ultra-light all-terrain reconnaissance vehicle designated for eventual limited production by the Hylian armed forces. Specifically a high-powered light-armored motorcycle, only one prototype had ever been constructed for testing purposes. It possesses a 1360cc, four-stroke, four-cylinder, sixteen-valve, liquid-cooled DOHC engine, which can allow the Epona to achieve 200 horsepower and speeds up to 350 KPH (216 MPH). It also has a dual-throttle system and a six-speed close-ratio gearbox, and can make it past 97 KPH (60 MPH) in little more than two seconds with computer-assisted traction management activated. In an effort to reduce weight, the Epona carries light armor at best, lined with ultra-light C-Carbon armor that largely protect the more vital parts of the motorcycle and its rider, with the grooves on the motorcycle largely designed to minimize the effects of a potential explosion or shockwaves hitting the vehicle. One of the key features of the Epona is its relatively advanced microcomputer systems, which monitors the motorcycle electronically and assists the vehicle’s stability, traction, heat, and other vital factors. More importantly, it is also equipped with frontal optic scanners, which scan the terrain ahead at a twenty-degree inclination utilizing laser and spectroimagery technology. This allows for the computer to near-instantly analyze the terrain ahead and make adjustments to the stiffness and position of the Epona’s suspension systems, which allows for greater reliability when it comes to all-terrain transport, as the Epona can actively accommodate itself to new terrain ahead. Aside from the handles, the Epona can also be turned by a pressure system that receives input from the hips and legs due to the possibility of close-range bladed combat. It is also equipped with a very advanced auto-drive system and a GPS, which allows for the Epona to be called upon remotely to the rider’s position without actually having a rider. Although the Epona is armed with two frontally-fixed .50 caliber machine guns with a 260 rounds per minute rate, engaging targets with more firepower than a Humvee is discouraged, as the Epona is largely a reconnaissance vehicle with limited ammunition capacity, and not meant for active offensive roles. Lightly-armored, its best defense is largely its speed and small size, although the Epona is notably much larger than modern hyper bikes. Seatbelts are not included.

*****

Author’s Note: Three chapters – or, more accurately, one prologue and two chapters – in, and I’ve yet to receive a review. That makes me sad, so please do review; contrary to popular belief, authors do need their egos stroked sometimes.

I’d like to make a special mention of thanks to AuraNightgale and TextOnlySword for their input on Exoria so far. While Text has been giving me random ideas and suggestions (even though I didn’t take some of his rather sound advice in the interests of literary awesomeness), Aura has been a very dedicated proofreader (even though I didn’t ask her, so even more special kudos for her). So bow before their awesomeness. The errors in the last two chapters that Aura have pointed out to me have also already been edited, so proofreading is awesome.

Chapter Two is where the story really picks up. I’ve spent the last two chapters trying to set things up, and it’s from around here where the action starts heating up, and where you’ll begin to see a somewhat familiar Zelda formula setting in. I won’t explain exactly what that means, but I’m pretty certain that there’s going to be a lot more to come that will catch your attention. There are a lot more mysteries to be solved and a lot more plot to be introduced, so do please stay tuned. In the meantime, please continue to read and review. If chapters had names in this story, the next one probably would’ve been “Motorcycle Chase Scene”.

If I named the chapters of Exoria, then Chapter Three would probably either have the name of "Motorcycle Chase Scene" (reference to Final Fantasy VII)...or "Wait, It Gets Worse!" (reference to Halo). XD

In any case, please take a read, and please review too~ X3

*****

Chapter Three

It was well and good that, despite the fact that the darkened metropolis of Hyrule City no longer provided the proper artificial lighting from streetlamps and building lights, the streets were wide and long. Furthermore, there were little in the way of abandoned cars; the civilians had used whatever means of transportation to get out of the city when the evacuation effort started, which meant that aside from the stray burning skeleton of a destroyed military armored vehicle, Link encountered very little obstacles as he made nearly three hundred kilometers per hour down Market Avenue.

Even as the street sped by him, he wasn’t entirely sure what it was that bothered him more, the flames that burned in the distance, casting orange glows reflecting across clouds and smoke in an otherwise tranquil ebony night sky; the fact that lack of Valentine resistance here only meant more resistance further out from the capital’s city center, where there would be less cover; or Zelda’s arms around his stomach and chest that was squeezing and trembling so tightly as she pressed herself against his back on the motorcycle, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, that he personally found it a bit difficult to breathe.

Admittedly, however, Link wasn’t terribly concerned about any of those particular factors at the moment. He had always had a fascination with all manners of vehicles and machines, and he was mostly glad that the MRX402A – he silently decided he would affectionately call it “Epona”, its codename, from now – handled exceptionally well, far beyond anything he had expected. If this was what the Hylian army had been spending its research and development budget on, Link certainly wasn’t about to complain. Although it – or “she”, as Link decided to refer to the motorcycle using a feminine pronoun – was remarkably larger than even the most powerful of civilian hyperbikes, she was extraordinarily light for an armored military reconnaissance vehicle. He could turn the vehicle as tightly as he wished without worrying about drifting unless he wanted the motorcycle to do so, and the dual-throttle system gave him an unparalleled advantage when it came to acceleration and maintaining speed through hairpin turns. Link personally wanted to test her limits, but now was not exactly a good time, not when they were in the middle of a warzone, and especially not when there was someone scared half to death sitting behind him. The computer display at the controls impressed him too; it kept track of so many vital details of the vehicle, including temperature, remaining ammunition, durability of tires, traction, integrity, GPS readouts…and, of course, came with the usual speedometer and tachometer.

If he found anything lacking in this motorcycle, it was that she didn’t possess adequate armor and weapons; even for an ultra-light all-terrain reconnaissance vehicle, or a ULATRV, Epona was ridiculously minimalist when it came to armor plating. It was well and good that the armor was, in fact, C-Carbon, a synthetic and hardened allotrope that Link knew to be extraordinarily sturdy and powerful, but the armor was molded in a way where protection was prioritized for Epona’s internal components, not the rider. The large size of the vehicle certainly helped in making it difficult for attackers to get a good shot at the rider, but she possessed no actual canopy; the rider was almost as unprotected as a rider of a civilian hyperbike, which the Epona resembled more than any other military reconnaissance vehicle. She was also affixed with two fore-mounted .50 caliber machine guns, which could make good work of a humvee…but not anything larger than that. She didn’t carry a great deal of ammunition either. But, again, that wasn’t really a shortcoming; Epona was supposed to be a reconnaissance bike, not an infantry fighting vehicle. Anymore firepower, and Link probably should’ve brought a tank instead.

So the Hylian Joint Intelligence agent enjoyed what he had – which was already a great deal – and sped down the capital city of the country as a shining black blur. Link gently edged Epona off Market Avenue and onto Ocarina Street, and she fluidly responded, swerving smoothly through.

There was a roadblock in the middle of the street more than five hundred meters ahead, hastily erected with sandbags, manned by a small Valentine squad. On the left side was a humvee, while the right side was a more heavily armored infantry fighting vehicle. Although Epona’s exhaust was muffled and as quiet as most reconnaissance vehicles got when throttling at three hundred plus kilometers per hour, she was still pretty loud, and the roar of the engine had already caught the attention of the roadblock before she even showed up in the sights of the roadblock. Link took a breath, counted to three…then swerved Epona to the left just as a great salvo of tracers from assault rifles, machine guns, and chain guns – angry lines of yellow and orange and red – violently sliced through the air she had been in just a moment ago. A moment later, an exhaust plume was seen in the distance; Link counted to two this time, and swerved once more, avoiding more incoming enemy fire…and dodging a wire-controlled TOW missile fired from the IFV on the right. Epona was simply too fast for the roadblock to properly get a good aim on her.

Link clicked the built-in triggers of the machine guns, the switches attached smartly to the motorcycle handles; immediately, .50 caliber rounds tore up what was essentially a stationary target, a collection of sandbags. A cloud of sand burst into the air, shielding the Valentine soldiers from Link’s view but, more importantly, sending the soldiers scattering and disrupting their aim of Epona. Now there was only the humvee and the IFV to worry about, and the street was free of more than half of the tracers that had been flying across, a welcome development no matter how Link looked at it. He was already only two hundred meters and closing.

At one hundred meters, Link decided that he was going to stop playing dodgeball with the roadblock, and suddenly swerved towards the sidewalk where the roadblock couldn’t adequately cover. As he edged close to the sidewalk, the cameras and optic lasers mounted at the fore of Epona quickly scanned the path ahead and registered the ten centimeter discrepancy of height between the street and the sidewalk in the form of a curb. Immediately, Link felt Epona’s suspension soften in synchronization with the terrain ahead, and when Epona mounted the curb, she did so gently, smoothly climbing that ten centimeter rise. The springs had been softened to just the point where the bump of the curb felt nothing more like the pleasant swell of a sailboat on gentle waves for the two riders of Epona.

Epona shot right past the roadblock in at just under three hundred kilometers per hour. The machine gun emplacement on top of the Valentine humvee and the TOW missile turret on the IFV couldn’t turn fast enough to track the black blur that was suddenly behind them. The soldiers fared little better, but by the time they had gathered their wits from having been forced from their cover, knelt down, and started firing down the street again, Epona was already zooming off, two hundred meters away and turning a sharp right – her suspensions hardening to increase stability for the turn – onto Tetra Avenue, disappearing behind a city block a split-second afterwards.

Right into another roadblock. One much closer this time, giving Link only two hundred meters to spare. And the soldiers of this roadblock had been much more prepared for Link and Zelda this time. Not only were there far more soldiers – it was a platoon this time, more than two dozen soldiers – there were three IFVs and a tank waiting for them. Link had no intention of trying his luck against this kind of firepower; he concentrated on avoiding the massive one hundred and twenty millimeter shell fired from the cannon – the massive piece of metal flying right past Epona with only meters to spare sent a strong blast of wind into his face, and Link realized just how uncomfortably close the shell had been – as well as two TOW missiles from the IFVs, allowing the less powerful assault rifles rounds to ricochet off the polished C-Carbon armor.

Again, he angled Epona into a sharp turn, aiming for an alley just to the left right before they’d hit the roadblock. Epona automatically stiffened her springs as she twisted into the turn, then, just before she mounted another curb and onto the sidewalk, the suspension softened for just a split second, enough for her to make a smooth transition between street to sidewalk. As Epona landed on the sidewalk and began to slide, the springs hardened once more, allowing Epona to turn that much more smoothly, and the tires began to catch traction. Not quite enough; the wheels were still skidding across the alley and into the wall after the initial slide, but, thankfully, Hylian engineering had ensured that Epona’s tires were appropriately large and curved. The rounded side of the rubber tires rode on the wall for a moment, skidding against the side of the brick building as they wedged itself between road and wall, driving practically at a diagonal slant…before finally sliding down from the brick wall and back onto the ground when its sideways momentum ended, and Epona sped down the tiny gap between two buildings, the gunfire from the roadblock a thing of the past.

Link silently reminded himself to leave a thank-you-note for army R&D, if they were still alive. There was no way he could’ve pulled off that kind of move on a normal motorcycle or other military reconnaissance vehicle…at least, not without slamming both himself and Zelda against a rather hard brick wall.

The alley, admittedly, was a tight fit; even without factoring in the dumpsters, which Link barely managed to scrape by, the two walls on either side blazed by horrifying close to the occupants. As if it was an impossibility, Link felt the arms around his chest and stomach tighten even more, and ventured a guess that Zelda had opened her eyes…then saw that they were traveling down an alley with only a meter to spare on any given side. Chances were Zelda had them tightly shut again.

Five seconds and four hundred meters later, Epona blasted out of the alley with both its occupant holding tightly on. They weren’t alone; five Humvees were quickly on their tail even as Link turned a sharp right. Judging from their speed, they had already been driving, expecting the two to be fleeing from that alley. The Valentine response was becoming more coordinated, and it was clear there was no more time to mess around.

Five sets of machine guns from the Humvees opened fire, and Link gritted his teeth even as he shifted Epona across the lanes of Oracle Boulevard, headed for the downtown area, doing his best to avoid five separate lines of fire. He shot occasional looks back to look for the best position to make it difficult for the gunners to fire, mostly by aligning the jeeps together so that the rear gunners couldn’t fire in fear of hitting their comrades in front. It wasn’t entirely enough; an increasing number of bullets were hitting the large metallic rear of Epona, and her computer systems were already reporting minor damage to the rear armor plating. Link hit the throttle as hard as he could; he was quite certain that the humvees couldn’t match Epona’s top speed, not by a long shot. As long as they stuck on large streets, the humvees had no chance of catching up, and Link would lose them quickly.

At least, that was the plan, until what sounded vaguely like a whirlwind above them increased in acoustic volume. Although Link was too busy dodging stray abandoned cars on Oracle Boulevard to spare too much of a look up, he didn’t need to. Zelda, however, quickly shot a glance up and confirmed Link’s fears. “Link!” she screamed over Epona’s engine, “Attack helicopters!”

Link managed a scowl even as he finally managed to catch enough open space to take a look. Two small, two-pilot attack helicopters, sleek and black, had descended to a proper height from the skies. Despite its relatively small size – only slightly longer than a civilian helicopter – they bristled with weapons, including chain guns, missiles, and rockets. Furthermore, they were far more well-armored than any reconnaissance vehicle. Epona had no good answer for that, offensive or defensive-wise. Hovering just above the humvees, they joined the pursuit even as they flew towards Link and Zelda.

Link swiftly served to the left, and just in time; chain gun fire tore up the streets where Epona had been just a split-second before, creating miniature explosions that sent fragments of asphalt flying into the air. There was no way those bullets were simply going to bounce off Epona’s armor. Link couldn’t afford to let her endure that kind of firepower. As Epona straightened herself again after the turn, the attack helicopters had to slow as they rounded the metropolitan intersection, not being able to make tight high-speed turns without smashing into the side of a high-rise building. The humvees, however, did not have such a problem; all five turned and skidded through the corner, following Epona perfectly, their machine guns flashing with automatic fire shortly afterwards. The straightaway allowed Epona to increase the distance between her and her pursuers…but Link knew the attack helicopters could swiftly catch up as soon as they managed the turn.

Link didn’t wait for the attack helicopters to complete the turn. He immediately decelerated again and drove down another avenue, then another, making turn after turn, each street progressively becoming narrower and narrower. Taking the smaller, windier streets meant that the attack helicopters couldn’t follow unless they attempted to make high-speed turns, weaving through city blocks upholding skyscrapers. To make it even more difficult for the attack choppers to track him, Link drove Epona towards the upper-level highway, kilometers of road leading out of the city supported by a network of steel and concrete pillars holding them a dozen meters into the air. A motorcycle couldn’t navigate twists and turns like a four-wheeled humvee could, however; even with Epona, Link was forced to slow, and the humvees slowly but steadily caught up.

The computer in front of Link suddenly ringed and flashed red with what seemed like an alarm. His gaze quickly shot down at the display, which had two new words flashing across the LED screen: “Radar Lock”.

Link probably would’ve been far more impressed by the fact that Epona’s computer systems could actually detect when she was locked on by enemy targeting systems had he not actually turned around and saw plumes of smoke jettison itself from an attack copter that barely made a corner in time. A near-instant later, what was very clearly a missile emerged from the smoke and streaked toward him.

A missile from an attack helicopter traveled at more than one thousand five hundred kilometers per hour, five times faster than Epona’s top speed. Link harbored no delusions that Epona would be able to outrun that.

The only advantage that Link had was that it took several seconds after the thrusters of a rocket activated to actually achieve good acceleration before hitting full speed. Which meant that Link actually had three seconds instead of the two seconds that would’ve been required had the missile achieved maximum velocity the moment it was launched. One extra second was not exactly a great deal of time, but, at this point, the Joint Intelligence agent was going to take anything he could get.

He turned tightly towards the middle of the street, sticking close to the pillars holding up the bridge above that was Highway A-7 even as he ran parallel to the highway above him. The missile traveled a velocity above the speed of sound, and Link couldn’t actually hear it coming. But while the missile lock-on could go through walls, the missile most certainly couldn’t; it slammed itself against one of the pillars, fifteen meters away from Link and Zelda, at more than one thousand and five hundred kilometers per hour.

The high-explosive anti-tank warhead – or HEAT warhead – loaded onto the missile was meant to take out heavily-armored military vehicles; it had absolutely no problems in tearing down a pillar of steel and concrete.

The explosion pulverized the concrete and twisted the steel that had composed the pillar supporting the highway. Although the blast was reduced on Link and Zelda’s side of the pillar, by no means were they completely safe from the explosion. Epona’s armor was specifically designed with the appropriate curves and grooves to divert the forces of an explosion outwards and away from Epona and its rider, so both Link and Zelda remained relatively unhurt, but the explosion was still deafening enough for Link to wince – he barely managed to hear Zelda cry out in fear at the overwhelming blasts despite her being right behind him. The shockwaves also almost threw Epona through the air, and her tires lost traction, spinning out of control even as it skidded and drifted along the street.

Link had barely managed to wrestle with her controls to bring them out of the spin when he realized there was yet another problem: This section of the highway was collapsing. The support had been destroyed, and several tons of concrete and asphalt were now detaching themselves from the highway proper, crashing down on the streets beneath. Right where Link and Zelda and Epona were.

With the precision of a surgeon and the elegance of a dancer, Link accelerated Epona out of her spin, choosing to use the motorcycle’s high torque to allow her to spin and gain traction with the asphalt beneath her rather than stopping first. He couldn’t stop, not unless he wanted to kill the speed the explosion had given Epona, which was probably the only thing that was going to save them from being crushed underneath a bridge. The tires skidded and produced smoke for a few seconds, but they eventually caught on, and Epona slowly and gently eased back into Link’s control, who quickly utilized the speed from Epona’s drifting to get them out of there. They were just in time; the highway finally crashed down right behind them with only meters to spare, and an explosion of dust followed in their wake – the crumbling highway crushing the street below – before Epona outran that too.

The good news was that the highway being brought down meant that the humvees, stuck on the other side, were no longer a cause of concern. The bad news was that the pair of attack helicopters were not confined to the road, and still presented a massive threat. They parted the cloud of smoke and dust as their rotors propelled them through the air, and the chase was on once again even as Link sought cover underneath the otherwise intact highway, weaving through abandoned automobiles, burning armored vehicles, and highway supports. At the earliest opportunity, as the helicopters attempted to flank him and ruin his cover, Link quickly turned onto another street, aiming to lose the helicopters in the metal-and-glass jungle of skyscrapers once more. The attack helicopters quickly angled into pursuit.

Revisiting his earlier tactic of attempting to shake the helicopters were met with limited success. While he was indeed successful in increasing the distance between him and his pursuers, Link was now troubled by the fact that it seemed the pilots were getting much more trigger happy. One helicopter continued to send a wave of chain gun bullets flying from its nose with an astounding lack of accuracy; sometimes the bullets would strike close to Link, but as the helicopter turned, the bullets would shatter glass and stone on various floors of the surrounding buildings as well. It certainly didn’t make Link’s escape any easier, though; he now had to worry about falling debris that might fall on them and shattered glass that might puncture Epona’s tires. And then there was the other attack helicopter, also in pursuit and firing rockets from the pods on both of its two short wings. Unlike the missiles, the rockets had no tracking devices and couldn’t home in on Epona, and they also carried smaller, less powerful warheads. But the attack helicopter had a liberal number of them, and the smaller rockets traveled considerably faster than their missile counterparts, not to mention they detached themselves from the rocket pods very rapidly, almost like a machine gun. The rockets were little more accurate than the chain gun bursts, but the explosions certainly were no joke; Link struggled to keep him, Zelda, and Epona out of the same street the helicopters were on, knowing that the miniature explosions that were tearing up the streets and the skyscrapers behind them in rapid succession could easily turn all of them into paste – smeared across the street – should they be on the receiving end of a direct hit…or maybe even an indirect hit.

Link quickly consulted Epona’s GPS, tried to find something that could work to his advantage. A few seconds later, believing he had something worthy of attempting, he skipped two chances to make a right turn, allowing the two helicopters to barely catch up…then took a sharp ninety-degree right onto yet another street. The pilots in the two helicopters, tracking Epona’s movements, quickly leveled their altitude, making sure they were at optimal weapons range – flying low enough – to hit the Hylian fourth-generation reconnaissance vehicle on the next turn. The two helicopters, too, flew past two streets before, on the third, banking right.

And realized that the third street wasn’t a street at all.

When the Squaretech Corporation built their “branch office” in Hyrule City, they requisitioned two entire city blocks for their HQ, their building plans pronouncing the need to build right over Parker Lane right between these two blocks and turn the two into one single city block. The Senate, eager to appease Squaretech at the time, signed off on the requisition…which drew the ire of drivers cruising in downtown Hyrule City when the lack of Parker Lane caused traffic congestion in the surrounding one-way streets. Some negotiations later, Squaretech finally reached a compromise; the building plans were slightly altered so that the middle section, the part that was built over what was once Parker Lane, would be decreased in size so that a public underground tunnel could be built right under the building to allow for cars to drive right through.

The pilots were not locals to Hyrule City, and knew not of this. Before they turned, the Squaretech Hyrule City Branch Office looked only like two skyscrapers adjacent to each other with a street in between them. When the helicopters made the turn and accelerated, however, they suddenly realized that Epona has simply gone right under the building as the street ramped down into the tunnel…and now there was a giant wall of steel and glass right in front of them.

The helicopter in the rear had more room for correction as the pilot pulled back on the yoke, bringing the attack helicopter into an upwards swing and away from the glass. The first helicopter, however, was not so lucky. It attempted to turn back…but it had been traveling too fast, and the turn wasn’t quite enough. The rotors struck glass and steel, cutting violently through steel and glass even as the rotors bent and twisted and sent the helicopter on a chaotic tumble, beginning to spin out of control as the pilots inside that attack helicopter struggled to maintain altitude and control of their now-smoking aircraft.

Link did not slow down or look back to see whether or not the attack helicopter would crash; he was simply quite glad that he got them off his back. He drove right on through the short tunnel, and, a second later, reemerged on the other side, shooting up the ramp as Epona’s suspensions softened and allowed her to smoothly land right back on the streets without too high a jump. He swiftly guided Epona back towards the larger streets; now that they lost the attack helicopters, they needed more speed, the kind of speed that large wide streets could offer them…plus those roads led back to Highway A-7, which led south out of the city and towards the Hylian-Gerudo border. He needed to get back there to complete their escape.

“Humvees are back,” Princess Zelda suddenly called out from behind him. Her voice was raised, having to shout above the noises that were screaming right past them at high speeds, but her tone suggested she was much calmer this time. Then again, it wasn’t entirely unexpected; they had run into two roadblocks, been pursued by five humvees, been shot at by attack helicopters…personally, Link would’ve felt anyone would’ve preferred being chased by humvees rather than missile-carrying attack helicopters. He turned his head just enough to catch the silhouette of five humvees right behind him, and accelerated in his attempt to lose them in the dust even as tracers flew through the streets once more, dividing the road with angry lines of light.

Except, as soon as his head turned back towards the front, he immediately saw another five humvees veer right onto the street in front of him; he was now surrounded by ten humvees traveling at high speeds.

The Valentine jeeps stopped firing in fear of hitting each other with intersecting lines of machine gun bullets, but Link knew the inevitable result if he didn’t do something: The longer he lingered, the more likely that the humvees were going to box him in, and that would be the end of that. The highway supports of Highway A-7 right above them did not help Link’s situation at all, giving him more obstacles to avoid and less angles to maneuver. He decided to take the less conventional option: He swerved left…and right into the National Mall, a tree-laden national park two kilometers in length running alongside the downtown section of Highway A-7.

The humvees doggedly followed Link into the Mall, and, immediately, the drivers began a dangerous game of tree-dodging. Link couldn’t quite achieve good speed with Epona on these kind of grounds, not when he was turning left and right in an effort to avoid crashing into trees and benches and fences, but he still fared better in terms of traversing the uneven terrain compared to the humvees that barely managed to keep themselves accelerating and moving at the same time. The Valentine pursuers were no longer very aversive towards being trigger happy, however; machine gun fire erupted from all asides, and Link pressed himself low against the body of Epona, relying on the trees for cover as he tried to ride as close to the trees as possible, to the point where he was pulling off near-misses or even scraping the trees, in an attempt to attain a sufficient form of cover. It seemed to be working; a few rounds still struck and ricocheted off Epona’s C-Carbon armor, but many more rounds were striking the trees around them, and Link became that much more concerned about the splinters that were being launched into the air as bullets peppered the trees around them and sent scraps of bark flying around.

Link knew he wouldn’t last like this. His tactic was a delaying tactic more than anything, but now he was stuck in the middle of far too many trees and intersecting lines of fire. He wasn’t outrunning the humvees fast enough. The situation was that much deadlier on the streets, but things were still dangerous, even with the cover. He needed to get to the highway, away from the humvees, but the next ramp, Link knew, was at least two more kilometers away…and he wasn’t looking forward to two more kilometers of dodging machine gun fire from ten different directions.

Drastic measures needed to be taken. Link edged Epona towards the highway once more, carefully keeping track of his environment…or, more specifically, the path in front of him. Even more specifically, the trees; there were some that were actually quite tall and sturdy redwood trees. He deliberately slowed down a bit, kept his eyes open, looked for a tree that was distant enough. The damage to the National Mall clearly showed that there had been serious fighting here, enough for explosive ordinance to be used; several of the trees were already in splinters before they had gotten here.

A bit more than two hundred meters ahead of them, Link saw one. A rather thick tree that had been damaged at the base by what was probably a tank shell, and was already tilting away from where Link and Zelda were coming from, towards the highway on the right. Link aimed Epona’s nose at the tree and fired her two machine guns at the base; splinters flew from that tree as the base was slowly eaten away by the rain of bullets, and it slowly began to bend even further away from Epona and toward the highway above. Hoping that the tree was at an inclination just enough for his purposes, Link aimed Epona directly for that tree.

Link silently gritted his teeth; this was a really stupid idea.

Zelda agreed; she had kept her eyes open and saw what Link was turning towards. “No,” she whispered in a voice laced completely with fear, which rapidly developed to a scream. “No, no, no…!”

Link ignored her, stood up on the motorcycle even as he increased the throttle to achieve as much speed as he possibly could…and slammed his feet down on the rear supports of the motorcycle. Epona continued to ride forward even as the Link’s movement forced the weight of the motorcycle to shift back, and Epona did a little jump as her front tires left the ground and came up into the air. Zelda’s scream became even more pronounced as she hung onto her dear life, clutching at Link so tightly that he became very sure that he couldn’t breathe. He really couldn’t blame her; the ground was now flying right past her no more than a meter behind Zelda, now that Epona’s nose was angled upwards.

The bending tree was only meters away from Epona when Link finally shifted his weight back forward – slightly difficult, as Zelda, light as she was, was still grabbing quite tightly onto him – and the Epona’s front wheel, having been raised to the air came right back down onto the diagonal tree trunk. Her suspensions immediately slackened, dampening the bump, and this worked in Link’s favor even as Link’s rear wheel, being pulled along by the power of the front tires, mounted the tree trunk too. Link now found himself riding along the side of a fifteen-meter-tall eucalyptus tree, bending increasingly towards the highway, effectively utilizing the tree as what was probably the world’s thinnest motorcycle ramp.

Link didn’t need to be reminded of how badly this could go wrong. The tree might snap and completely collapse, ending the attempt to go airborne; the tree trunk was thick, but Link honestly wasn’t sure if it was thick enough to handle the weight of Epona, Link, and Zelda. They were riding upwards with little-to-no cover; the gunners in the humvee had a clear shot as Link gained altitude. And the most obvious problem was balance; tree trunks did not offer the best of traction, were rounded, and guardrails did not protect them from tipping over to any side. Not to mention that the impromptu ramp was only about eighty centimeters in width…only several centimeters wider than Epona’s tires themselves. There was an extremely low error margin.

Miraculously, the tree trunk held; the accumulated weight of motorcycle and her drivers caused it to curve even more, and the sinking feeling sent a sudden rush of fear to Link as he assumed the worst and thought they weren’t going to make it, but the tree trunk ultimately did not snap. The Valentine gunners in their humvees, in the meantime, were stunned into a momentary lapse; their reaction to this move was effectively the same as Link’s own reaction to his own move, that of assumed stupidity and insanity. And balance was barely maintained; Epona was light enough for Link to maintain equilibrium, and its wheels remained stubbornly glued to the side of the bending tree.

Achieving an altitude of ten meters, Epona reached the tip of the tree, the edge of the ramp, the end of the road…and proceeded to shoot up into the air, barely achieving an altitude of fourteen meters at the top of its arc…

…And barely made it over the guardrail of Highway A-7, the tires bumping against the guardrail once before, with a thump that even Epona’s suspensions could not completely negate, landed on the asphalt of the upper-level Highway A-7.

Link personally did not care about the fact that he was still unable to breathe, as tightly as Zelda was squeezing him. He did not care that Epona was, once again, spinning as it fought to gain traction after the transition from grass to tree bark to air to asphalt. He was simply relieved; the humvees, left twelve meters below and without a ramp to get onto the highway themselves, were no longer a concern.

Trying to exhale despite the tremendous pressure across his chest and stomach, Link fought down the urge to whistle, a motion that succeeded largely because he couldn’t inhale and was actually rather shaken by their success; the Hylian army’s research and development team really wasn’t kidding when they called this an “all-terrain” vehicle. If there had been another cyclist that had been as foolhardy to have attempted what Link just accomplished, he would really like to meet the person. In the meantime, he accelerated Epona out of her spin once more, and quickly achieved two hundred kilometers per hour as he continued down the highway. At this speed, the humvees had absolutely no hope of catching up.

Not that there wasn’t a new worry; as soon as Link passed a highway ramp on the right side, newcomers joined him via said ramp onto Highway A-7. His head snapped back as he quickly saw three new pursuers quickly matching his speed as they drove up from the streets below, obviously part of the coordinated pursuit efforts. Each of the three vehicles carried an armed Valentine scout…and it was clear they were quite accustomed to these types of high-speed pursuits.

Hyrule wasn’t the only country building reconnaissance motorcycles.

Four motorcycles shot through the derelict highways, quickly gaining even more speed as they the edged closer to three hundred kilometers per hour. Link deliberately slowed to keep Epona close to the three pursuing Valentine scout bikes; as a fourth-generation reconnaissance vehicle, she possessed a higher top speed than the third-generation motorcycles her pursuers were riding on…but that advantage was marginal, and couldn’t make anything decisive. Even worse, it would place Epona right in range of three sets of fore-mounted machine guns on the Valentine motorcycles. Keeping close to their pursuers meant that he gave the Valentine scouts no chance to use their machine guns. Furthermore, the scouts didn’t draw their handheld weapons and fire at Link; traveling at this speed while swerving left and right on motorcycles made it tremendously easy for friendly fire if they decided to start going trigger-happy on intersecting paths.

This called for another approach.

Link quickly released Zelda’s arms around him – a difficult task, as Zelda was extremely unwilling to relinquish her hold – and instead diverted her grip onto the metallic frame of Epona instead; she squeezed the motorcycle and refused to let go. For the first time in fifteen seconds, Link finally took a breath, and felt a wave of slight nausea hit his head as oxygen began returning to his brain. The feeling lasted only for a moment, however, as he reached into his jacket and quickly drew his gunsword even as he swiftly swerved towards one of the pursuing motorcycles. The reason he needed Zelda to let go of his stomach was because he needed mobility for his body. The use of firearms at this speed while vehicles swerved left and right across each other and stray cars on the highway was going to have diminished effect, what with the detriments against accuracy. Link needed to close the distance and solve that accuracy problem.

With the flick of a button and his wrist, Link quickly changed his gunsword into longsword mode. His target had very little time to react; Link had already closed the distance between the two vehicles as Epona slipped in right beside the motorcycle, and, with perfect timing, Link swung his sword at the rider. The blade caught, slashing through the light bulletproof armor the scout was wearing, and Link watched in silent satisfaction as the scout tumbled off his motorcycle and onto the highway, violently skidding and spinning across the asphalt before sprawling motionless on the ground; his motorcycle, riderless, soon met the same fate.

Link’s satisfaction was short-lived; as he turned his attention to the other Valentine soldiers, he suddenly realized that both of them had also closed in on him…also equipped with gunswords in longsword mode in their hands that they had swiftly drawn from their holsters.

These soldiers weren’t just scouts. They were Valentine special forces, the only soldiers on the continent that carried gunswords as a standard weapon.

The battle quickly became chaotic as the motorcycles slipped left and right between lanes, weaving through each other and the occasional obstacle across the highway, riding in intersecting lines as their swords slashed and clashed with every pass they made with each other. Link was reminded of medieval duels on horseback, where riders would engage in fast-paced melee combat even as their mounts galloped across the fields. He couldn’t help but make that mental comparison now even as he and his opponents engaged in a high-speed swordfight on motorcycles across the highway. Both scouts were also very proficient with handling their own gunswords; Link couldn’t make their swordfight decisive even as slashes and thrusts were being parried and blocked, and he was, in fact, fighting at a disadvantage. It didn’t help that his maneuverability advantage was cut down by the weight of an extra passenger.

Although he was outnumbered by one, Link still possessed a single advantage that he hadn’t used yet. He had noticed it earlier, but Epona seemed to possess an experimental set of controls at the seat of the motorcycle. After a few very minor experiments with it while riding across the battlefield of Hyrule City, Link became very certain that Epona actually possessed a hip-controlled steering system, meaning she could actually be steered without hands on the handlebars. Link had been hesitant to use that, however, not when he was not entirely sure just how sensitive the hip-based controls were, and not when he wasn’t sure what that would do against the balance of the motorcycle. At the moment, however, he was very much inclined to take advantage of it so he could wield the gunsword with a double-handed grip for more power and more options. Their Valentine pursuers, riding standard third-generation motorcycles, could only fight with one hand, the other hand maintaining a hold on the handlebars of their vehicles in the absence of an extra set of controls.

He had little time to think about this. The two Valentine scouts were now moving in a flanking formation, one on either side. Both had their swords angled precariously forward even as they charged at Link from both sides, clearly aiming to impale him from two different directions. As if Link was going to let that happen; he quickly hit the brakes, hoping that the Valentine motorcycles would run into each other instead. It didn’t happen; both motorcycles calmly but swiftly passed right by each other through where Epona had been before with only centimeters to spare. Undoubtedly, they had trained enough in this maneuver to not do something as stupid as run into each other in a pincer attack. Link had no intention of giving the two scouts a stationary target to shoot at; he quickly accelerated once more as soon as the two motorcycles had cleared each other, shooting down the highway again. The scouts spun their vehicles around in unison and began pursuit once more. Link made sure to match the speed of his pursuers to ensure he was not right in front of their machine guns.

Again, one of the riders on the right quickly moved up, preparing to slash at Link once more; the left scout had to peel off to avoid a stationary truck in front. With the threat from his left diminished, Link figured this was the best place to test just how well he could handle this new feature. Rather than allowing the scout to come towards him, Link immediately placed his gunsword in a powerful two-handed grip, then, letting go of the handles, twisted his hip clockwise. Epona responded like a charm; she shifted right just a bit further to the right than Link had expected, but still within acceptable margins. Having seen Link let go of the bars of his vehicle, the special forces scout did not expect Link suddenly barreling towards her from the side, nor did she expect Link to be holding his gunsword in both hands. She barely managed to bring her own blade up just in time for the parry, but was forced to give ground and bend outwards as Link overwhelmed her block with brute strength, leaning forward with his two-handed blow and the force of Epona pushing the scout increasingly towards the right guardrail.

The scout did what anyone would do when overpowered, and gave ground, quickly using her free hand to turn instinctively away from Link, hoping to increase the distance between them. Link did not let her, his hip twisted furthermore to the right, and Epona quickly and violently shoved the scout’s motorcycle into the concrete guardrail. The scout wasn’t sure whether she should try to push back or pull away even further, and the indecision cost her; sparks flew as the motorcycle’s metal slammed into the concrete barrier, and the motorcycle was sent on a chaotic tumble as it lost traction with the ground at the sudden application of force. It crashed onto the ground with the rider, and she, too, was out of the equation. Link quickly turned his attention to the last remaining threat…

…Who, having been unnoticed for the past few seconds, had sufficiently angled his motorcycle into a prime attack position right behind Link, and the barrels of his machine guns blazed with automatic gunfire.

Link quickly swerved left and right, avoiding the bolts of light that were flying past Epona. He thanked the fact that it was that much harder to hit a moving target from fixed machine guns on a motorcycle, but he would’ve kept his fingers crossed had he been able to anyways, attempting to dodge gunfire while threading through civilian cars having been left behind during the evacuation, which only seemed to increase in number and density as the two motorbikes continued on. What was otherwise scattered cars quickly became an outright traffic jam as abandoned cars occupied all lanes, forcing both motorcycles to the shoulder emergency lane dangerously close to the guardrail. Link scowled at the development; there was no avoiding gunfire this way, and now the Valentine scout was pounding Epona’s rear armor with a hail of machine gun bullets. An alarm on Epona’s computer shrilled, alerting Link that her rear armor plates were beginning to be seriously compromised.

Five hundred meters ahead, Link quickly saw why traffic had been congested here. A black wall of asphalt blocked off the road ahead, and a quick recollection of the local road map reminded Link that it wasn’t a wall at all, but the Reynolds Drawbridge, which crossed over the Dalton River. When the rest of Highway A-7 was being reconstructed to fit modern standards, the Reynolds Drawbridge had been exempt from the renovation process, being protected by its status as a national heritage site. An appeal to lift that status failed, despite the fact that the drawbridge was far too low for modern standards and unnecessarily congested traffic on a highway when drawn. The bridge, apparently, had been drawn upwards, yet whoever was supposed to lower it back down clearly did not…probably because he had been too busy running away. Realizing that the bridge wasn’t going to be coming down anytime soon, evacuating civilians must’ve abandoned their chances on Highway A-7 and found other means of escape as they fled from their cars.

After this, Link supposed, there wouldn’t be any opposition for lifting the Reynolds Drawbridge’s national heritage site status. Admittedly, however, he wasn’t terribly concerned right now. All he did was press harder on the accelerator, and Epona leapt forward faster than before.

Zelda ventured a peek forward; she undoubtedly saw what was up ahead and knew what Link was about to do, but, surprisingly, she did not scream in fear or protest. Despite this, Link was relatively certain that he heard what sounded suspiciously like a distressed moan even as her already light skin turned an even sicklier shade of pale.

Epona covered five hundred meters in about six seconds. The motorcycle ran into resistance even as its suspensions softened to take the brunt of the impact against the raised drawbridge. Still, the pressure was notably harder than anything they had felt before; the bridge was drawn up at a forty-five degree angle, and there was a limit as to how much shock the suspensions could absorb. There was also a limit as to how well a motorcycle could travel up a forty-five degree ramp…but, thankfully, Epona’s speed was just enough to make it up while still maintaining a bit more than one hundred kilometers per hour when it finally made it to the end of the road and soared right off it.

Princess Zelda started screaming in terror at that point.

The last pursuing scout attempted to follow Link and Zelda up the bridge, but his motorcycle did not benefit from the same kind of advanced suspensions as Epona did. The vast majority of the motorcycle’s speed was utterly diminished as soon as its front tires first hit the raised bridge, and although it still maintained enough speed to reach the top of the ramp, the scout knew full well that his motorcycle could not possibly make the jump to the other side, and instead hit the brakes, allowing his vehicle to slide back down onto level road instead and call off his pursuit.

As for Epona, she sailed through the air with nothing but water two dozen meters below…until, after achieving an airborne distance of around twelve meters, Link finally came back down onto the other side of the drawbridge, swiftly compensating as he tilted Epona just enough to match the angle of the ramp’s downward slant. The motorcycle slid on asphalt only for a bit, leaving dark tracks of burnt rubber in its wake, before she managed to catch a straight line once more and neatly ran right down the ramp and back onto the now unpopulated Highway A-7.

Link felt a rush of triumph run through his head even as Epona continued to bolt southbound along the highway and towards their destination. Against what were simply impossible odds, he had still managed to run right through Valentine forces stationed in the city and pursuit parties sent after him. Now, they were completely home free.

At least, until a rather unwelcome sound filled Link’s ears, and, in dismay, he looked upwards to find an all-too-familiar attack helicopter flying in from above and behind. Their former and deadliest pursuer, the one that had not crashed against the Squaretech skyscraper, was back and had finally caught up.

A swift analysis of the situation highlighted just how hopeless Link’s predicament was. His .50 caliber machine guns could probably do no more than dent the attack helicopter. He was caught on a highway with no exit ramp close enough, no cover, and with wide open roads. A missile or rocket he couldn’t outrun or dodge would completely destroy him and Zelda. And Epona, even at top speed, only had a marginal speed advantage over the attack helicopter, meaning there was no way Epona could lose it.

Having no other choice, Link did the only thing he could do at this point. He swiftly secured Zelda’s arms around himself once more, then hit the brakes just lightly enough for Epona to begin a drift and a controlled spin, achieving a one-eighty while maintaining the same course, then, as soon as the half-spin was completed, he continued to ride on in the same direction…in reverse.

And prayed that the attack helicopter would use the larger, slower, and more powerful missile instead of a rocket.

Link didn’t bother to look back even as he drove Epona backwards or address the look of confusion on Zelda’s face. Rather, he kept his eyes solely fixed on the attack helicopter that was following tightly at only one hundred and twenty meters away. Epona could not properly accelerate in reverse, and its speed began to drop, but that was quiet fine; it was not speed Link was looking for. Rather, he held his breath, willing his reflexes to be at their sharpest apex, intently watching the helicopter’s every move even as it descended to a slightly lower altitude to achieve a prime attack angle.

His prayer for a missile over any other weapon was simple: With all of the attack helicopter’s ordinance being able to travel past the speed of sound, Link desperately needed a warning.

And, as if divine will had been behind this battle, his hopes were answered. Epona’s computer display again fired off a shrill warning, the words “Radar Lock” appearing in blaring red on the LED screen, indicating that the attack helicopter’s targeting systems had acquired a lock on Epona, and the missile it would fire in three seconds would steer itself right into her no matter how fast she moved. As soon as the alarm went off, Link counted to two…then, as soon as the count was over, hit Epona’s rear brakes as hard as he possibly could.

Epona had been traveling at just the right speed, neither too fast nor too slow, for Link to pull this off. The front half of Epona shot right up as the rear tires locked, sending her momentum forward and up, effectively performing a wheelie. Again, Zelda held onto Link tightly, realizing that she was in danger of falling backward onto the ground again. Epona had not been traveling fast enough for her to flip over backwards and dump Link and Zelda unceremoniously onto the ground, but she had been just fast enough for its nose – and machine guns – to point directly at the attack helicopter. The momentum died as soon as Epona achieved that angle, and it remained suspended in mid-air at that position for a split-second.

At the same split-second, the attack helicopter’s right missile pod flared with a bright light as it was fired, the thrusters activating and creating a brilliant flash, and Link’s reflexes were pushed to the limit…just enough for him to react within that same split-second as he shifted his weight to the left and pulled on the trigger for his machine guns.

It took just a bit more than half a second. The launched missile had left the attack helicopter’s right hardpoint and was developing enough of a speed to streak unchallenged towards Epona. Its initial burn allowed it to travel only twenty-five meters from the wing it had detached from – a scant fifteen meters away from the nose of the attack helicopter – when the third bullet from Epona’s machine guns accomplished what its two predecessors had failed to do, and instead of streaking right past the missile, that third round struck the warhead of the incoming weapon.

From one hundred meters away, the explosion from the missile’s HEAT warhead felt overwhelming, especially since neither Link nor Zelda benefitted from the protection of a canopy, both of them fully exposed to the distant shockwave. From fifteen meters away, however, the instantly-expanding cloud of fire was lethal; the blast tore right through the helicopter’s rotor and cockpit, vaporizing them in a miniature sun, and, in flames, the aircraft simply crashed down onto the highway as a burning wreck.

The impact reverberated through the highway, and, half-convinced that it would eventually roll onto them or bring another section of the highway crashing down, Link brought the front wheel of Epona back down and quickly backed up even further to a safer distance. The corpse of the attack helicopter neither crashed towards Link and Zelda, nor did the highway fall apart, but it had been prudent of Link to back up; flaming pieces of debris and scrap metal flew into the air, spilling across a lengthy radius before they landed, bounced, and stopped on various surfaces.

Sliding Epona to a halt, Link breathed heavily even as he cast another look at the burning wreckage of what remained of the attack helicopter, ensuring that no danger was going to come out of it. When nothing surfaced from the wreckage, nothing that would indicate any sign of pursuers, Link and Zelda exchanged a tired look, both of them bordering on a smile of mingled relief.

What sounded like a rumble interrupted their brief interval of peace.

Both Link and Zelda snapped their gazes to the left side of the highway towards the east. They couldn’t see anything there, not with the darkness having fallen upon them, but neither of them couldn’t help but hear what was definitely the sound of successive impacts of large objects growing in volume, headed their way. It was the sound of an approaching giant. Neither of them had actually ever heard of such a sound in their life, but there was no mistaking what the sound meant: Trouble.

Link did not wait to find out what the sound was. Ensuring that Zelda was securely holding onto him, he quickly turned Epona around and accelerated, speeding down the highway once more, even as the sounds came increasingly closer.

It did not take long for Link and Zelda to finally see what was causing the sound.

It happened suddenly. What seemed like a metallic pillar – Link thought it was a stray telephone pole at first – suddenly rose up from beside the highway and came crashing down end-first on the upper-level road with crushing force. Link quickly twisted Epona away from the point of impact, swerving around the pillar even as he willed for Epona to shoot faster down Highway A-7. He was just in time; part of the highway cracked and tumbled away down to the road down below behind them.

Then the pillar rose up once again, followed the motorcycle…and Link suddenly realized that it wasn’t a pillar at all, but a leg. Looking back in bewilderment, he saw that, on the left side of the hallway, a large metallic sphere was suddenly visible, traveling right beside the motorcycle, barely matching Epona’s speed. The sphere was definitely at least twenty meters in diameter, a smooth congregation of what was most likely hardened battle armor found on vehicles such as tanks. Connected to it were four powerful beams, each complemented with a large piston-like component, that kept the spherical main body attached to its four heavily-armored, metallic legs, powered by sturdy hydraulic devices. The main body bristled with weapons, from rocket ports to chain guns to missile pods.

Link and Zelda couldn’t help but stare at this monster walker that reminded both of them of a spider. Neither of them had ever seen anything like this before, not an armored fighting vehicle with legs that seemed like it was pulled right out of a science fiction movie with too high a special effects budget, towering over the landscape as it stood at twenty meters tall, matching a seven-story building in height. Yet even as what seemed like a glowing, swiveling camera ran around its spherical circumference, centering its sights on the motorcycle they rode on, neither agent nor princess had any doubts as to what they had to do: Run.

A ramp came up on the right side, leading back down to the road on the lower level; Link knew he needed the cover, and quickly sped down the ramp…just as three separate sets of chain guns suddenly began to spin and, seconds afterwards, fired. Link did not clear the ramp in time to seek cover from behind the concrete guardrail, and all around him, his world suddenly exploded.

It was as if he was suddenly caught in the epicenter of a violent earthquake, and the ground suddenly cracked and buckled and shattered everywhere around him. Zelda did not scream, but her arms squeezed against Link, seeking protection from what seemed like a suddenly omnipresent hail of tracer rounds that came down from everywhere. Link was sure that it was the end of everything, that there was no hope left…until, miraculously, he finally cleared the ramp, and disappeared from outside the line of sight of the walker.

It was not until he gasped for air that Link realized that he had been holding his breath. He had been certain that he couldn’t have made it…but apparently, the chain guns were designed to fill the air with gunfire instead of actually hitting a specific target. The highway around him had been completely riddled with what was probably hundreds, if not thousands, of bullets, but he himself had been fine. It was, he admitted, a very fine stroke of luck in what was a long succession of lucky events…and Link knew he was already pressing it; that kind of luck was not going to last.

There was an advantage of riding under the highway again; the armored walker was too large to be able to properly fire under the bridge to hit Epona. Link mentally compared himself to a mouse burrowing under something to evade the claws of an eagle, utilizing the highway as cover to protect Zelda, Epona, and himself. It most certainly didn’t stop the walker from trying, however; a rapid chain of explosions right behind him was enough to tell him – even without looking – that the walker was rapidly firing rocket after rocket under the highway in an attempt to hit them. The shockwaves were not as powerful as the ones from missiles…but they were still powerful, and Link was hard-fought in his struggle to prevent the blasts from knocking Epona off its wheels even as it sped along, already reaching the edge of the Hyrule City Metropolitan Area. The walker barely managed to keep up, largely by virtue of its large size and the distance of the stride of its long, massive legs. A storm of fire divided the two vehicles even as the rockets blasted the road right behind Epona, incinerating everything in flames, and twisting and bending the highway supports even as the highway sections collapsed one by one behind Link, and the agent was once more concerned about the possibility that he might not actually be killed by the enemy, but crushed by a falling bridge.

Link eyed his GPS readout. Two kilometers ahead, the highway lowered itself back onto the ground as it completely left the Hyrule City Metropolitan Area, and, eight hundred meters after that, the highway entered a five-kilometer long tunnel under a patch of rolling hills that would end in the lonely outskirts of the city. If they could get there, if Epona could last until getting to that wide open expanse beyond the reaches of Hyrule City, then they had a much greater chance of escaping, with the odds even greater if there were no Valentine units posted in or within the tunnel. If anything else, it meant the walker wasn’t able to pursue them anymore. At the moment, Link wanted nothing more than to be able to stay away from the mechanical spider with more ammunition than five attack helicopters combined. Never mind tanks he could outrun, motorcycles he could outmaneuver, and attack helicopters he could outwit; he had absolutely no answer for this enemy.

A flash and a cacophony of what sounded like a combination of cannons and gunfire sent another spike of adrenaline through Link’s system, and his eyes shot towards the direction of the flash even as the highway began to lower and came to an end. At first, Link assumed that Valentine reinforcements had caught up, and had established a roadblock to the front, intent on cutting Epona off. However, as the tracers flew nowhere near him and struck the walker instead, Link squinted…and realized that up ahead, right in front of where the highway finally came back down to the ground, a group of Hylian military units, three tanks along with what was a platoon of Hylian soldiers, were holding down the position right between Highway A-7 and the tunnel in what was probably one of the last pockets of Hylian resistance in the area. Link felt a surge of excitement, not only because there was now supporting fire coming from a battlegroup much more well-armed than him, but because a Hylian roadblock there meant one other thing: The Valentine military had yet to hold control over this tunnel which the Hylians were defending.

Taking advantage of this distraction, Link swerved out from under the highway right before it joined the road, turning right as he began to make the last eight hundred meters until the tunnel. They sped right past the Hylian roadblock, shooting right past the tank on the right, and the soldiers thankfully did not give them any resistance or fire towards them. Either the soldiers were aware that the motorcycle was one of theirs…or, more likely, they decided that a twenty-meter-tall walking battle tank was much more of an opportune target than a reconnaissance motorcycle. Regardless, Epona shot right past them unfettered.

Plumes of smoke suddenly erupted from the top of the walker’s spherical main body, and two dozen contrails of white gas shot right into the sky. Top-attack missiles were launched into the air, rocketing up into the air until they swiftly turned to a ninety-degree angle, streaking to the air above the roadblock and the tunnel, then, as soon as they reached a position right above the roads stretch from the roadblock to the tunnel, they sharply made another ninety-degree turn, shooting downwards towards the roadblock and towards Epona. Top-attack missiles were designed to fire at armored vehicles so that the warhead could be delivered from above, exploiting the fact that armored vehicles usually had thinner armor at the top.

Sparing a look back, Link watched even as the first cluster of missiles struck the roadblock, and the explosion immediately swallowed everyone and everything there whole, the tanks and soldiers completely disappearing behind great balls of fire. Then more missiles impacts engulfed the road between Link and the roadblock, and he couldn’t see the area at all. He wasn’t out of danger yet; at least a dozen of the remaining missiles were still traveling towards him at breakneck speeds. This was going to be close. Again.

Epona had barely made it right into the tunnel, the vehicle passing right under the rim of the tunnel’s roof, when the first missiles hit, striking the street right behind them. Far enough to not force Epona into a slide, but close enough for Link to know that the missiles were getting far too close. But as Epona slipped further into the subterranean street, the remaining missiles, still tracking Epona’s electronic signature, blasted themselves against the hill where the entrance of the tunnel was based. The explosions immediately pulverized tons of dirt and stone and concrete, and the tunnel entrance crumbled, crashed, and collapsed behind Link and Zelda, threatening to swallow them under the avalanche of debris.

But it didn’t. Epona had gone fast enough to be completely out of range of explosion, and the collapsed tunnel entrance, a thick wall of ruined tunnel and hill, had all but secured their escape. The tunnel went silent. Epona rode on. Link and Zelda had made it.

It was at this point that Link moreorless jokingly told himself, if only as a means of self-relieving his stress, that if only Epona could cook, he’d probably marry her.

*****

Princess Zelda refused to talk to Agent Link for the next several hours, and did not speak until they had finally reached a gas station at the early hours of dawn, when the sky began to turn from a dark ebony to a lighter shade of navy and purple.

Link honestly was not sure why Zelda didn’t speak. Although he didn’t initiate conversation – it was not in his nature to – he could venture a few possible guesses why. Perhaps she needed to get the shock out of her system and was in no mood to talk. Maybe she had finally fallen asleep with the fatigue, and was merely resting. Maybe she was infuriated that Link had dragged her through a motorcycle ride through hell, and decided she would loathe him for the rest of her life.

Personally, though, Link wasn’t sure he minded the reason; with Zelda’s heart beating stably against his back as she gently held onto him from behind for the remainder of the ride, the Joint Intelligence agent was just greatly relieved that Zelda – and himself, for that matter – had managed to escape Hyrule City safely.

Highway A-7 South led through a patch of rolling hills and plains making up the Greater Hyrule Field. A patchwork of green and brown, the area was hardly lush and rich in vegetation, but Link honestly didn’t mind that terribly. It meant that the highway provided a smooth trip out, and the entire road from their escape of Hyrule City to the gas station was surprisingly empty. The moonlight lit up the road for them, so Link didn’t have to turn on Epona’s headlights. Eventually, they left the power grid of Hyrule City, and the streetlights beyond that were still on, so Link turned the headlights off. He wasn’t terribly interested in revealing their location with a conspicuous set of headlights, and he took great pains in avoiding the Valentine roadblocks set up. Apparently, the offensive effort had gone further into Hylian territory than Link had expected, and he was careful not to make himself and Zelda a target once more.

They had not been pursued. Valentine forces were persistent, but no military force was going to allocate a pursuit force after a single military reconnaissance motorcycle, especially not when they weren’t sure who was actually on it.

In hindsight, developed over the hours that Link had to himself, the agent realized that he had been extraordinarily lucky, and he was not likely to ever run into such a chain of fortune again. Everything had gone in his favor; the Haven’s armory had been untouched, he had been able to take Epona, he had repeatedly pulled off stunts that defied the basics of logic and common sense, he had encountered surprisingly thin resistance, and his timing and aim had been miraculously spot-on. This was not going to be something he was going to attribute to his skills; they did factor in – somewhere – but Link did not deny that he had simply been utterly fortunate that the wheel of fate had spun in his favor.

When he finally pulled Epona into the gas station, Link first noted that the establishment was completely devoid of life. He was sure to make a quick sweep around the area with his gunsword, ensuring that the place truly was lifeless and there wasn’t an ambush waiting for them there, before he finally returned and pulled Epona up to the gas station in what he felt was effectively the middle of nowhere, no sign of civilization of life in sight. At that point, after traveling nonstop for almost seven hours straight, she was already three-quarters empty. When Link detached Zelda’s arms for himself – although he wasn’t entirely sure if the crown princess was actually conscious, she certainly hung onto him tightly enough – she finally seemed to rouse, or at least make gestures of consciousness, and sat up straight instead of leaning against Link. She looked completely exhausted even as she tiredly rubbed her eyes, but, for the most part, she seemed alright.

Zelda remained sitting and unmoving where she sat on the motorcycle for the duration of Link refueling Epona, and she remained the same way when Link went into the gas station’s convenience store to find something to eat and drink – the door was unlocked and askew, meaning whoever had owned the gas station must’ve been quick to flee when the area became a warzone – until Link finally came out with a plastic bag of chocolate chip cookies and two bottles of orange juice. The sugar would help combat the shock, but he didn’t actually tell Zelda that as he handed her the bottle, which she took with slightly shaky and weak hands. Watching the princess wrestle against the plastic twist-cap of the bottle with her frail and exhausted hands was a rather painful-looking process, however, so Link ended up gently taking the bottle and opening it for her.

It was only after Zelda took a rather long swig of orange juice from the bottle – rather un-princess-like of her – before she finally spoke, and she did so in a tired, almost choked and raspy voice. “Do you think I had been too harsh on Director Leonore?” she asked, looking in a fatigued manner at the Hylian agent.

Blinking was the response provided to her. Out of all the possible responses that Link had expected from her – most of those options were either an expression of gratitude or a burst of outrage, with very little in between – this was certainly not one of them. If he had been inclined to respond verbally at all, that inclination was now replaced completely by confusion.

The princess looked away, dropping her head once more as her gaze drifted back to the orange juice bottle she was holding at her knees in gloved hands. Her hair, having been subjected to sweeping wings while riding Epona for seven hours, was now a tangled mess and a bit frizzled. The sorry state of her hair was pronounced when she leaned forward where she sat, and the mass of strands hung pathetically in the air. Her hair, usually tied with bands and framed with a tiara, had been let completely loose; the bands had loosened and were torn off by the wind, while riding with a tiara became a painful affair, so she kept it around her wrist like a bracelet instead, as her dress pockets had been too small to accommodate it. “I probably shouldn’t treat her that way,” Zelda admitted quietly, although her voice expressed far more exhaustion than it did remorse or reflection. “I have this…strange suspicion of her that I can never shake…” she shook her head, as if troubled or resigned at the thought – it was difficult to tell when Link couldn’t actually see her face behind the curtain of brown hair. “It probably has to do with…your predecessor.” She shrugged pathetically, then finished in an equally lame manner, “Maybe.”

It was not until Zelda turned back to look at Link several seconds later that he realized she was waiting for a response of some sort. Thrust into a position of conflicting loyalties made Link tremendously uncomfortable even as he unsuccessfully attempted to stop himself from a small fidget. He chose to simply adopt a neutral shrug.

Zelda smiled at the display of awkward neutrality. “You’re just being dispassionate, aren’t you?” she asked.

Link responded by the furrowing of his brow and a quirk of his lips – almost a grin – that indicated amused curiosity as to why the crown princess was driving the topic down this direction.

Successfully reading Link’s expression, Zelda gave a light, slightly suppressed giggle as she hugged herself and looked away. “I’m sorry, I just…need to get the adrenaline out of my system. I still feel shaky. That motorcycle ride was horrible.” She turned her attention to Link, shot him what was probably a coy, amused look despite her words. “You’re horrible, putting a princess on a motorcycle against her will.”

Although not known for his sense of humor, Link still managed to convey a joke as he expressionlessly – no smile included – made what amounted to a slightly exaggerated bow offered in the presence of royalty. The message was awfully clear in its good-natured, well-intended sarcasm: “Well, excuse me, Princess.” At that, Zelda giggled again in a manner that was far less restrained this time, appreciating the joke for what it was and somewhat glad to discover that her interim bodyguard did possess a sense of humor. Satisfied his work was done, Link twisted open his own bottle of orange juice, quietly began to drain the bottle of its contents after hours of not having drank anything at all.

Zelda’s laughter eventually trailed away and died down when she cast an amused look at Link, or, more specifically, his eyes. “Don’t you ever take off your sunglasses?” she asked.

The raised eyebrows behind the seemingly opaque sunglasses rose just enough for Zelda to see them above the upper frame of the sunglasses; Link was surprised at the question.

The princess quickly waved her hand weakly in an effort to dissuade Link from thinking Zelda might have something against his uniform or fashion sense…or whatever compelled him to keep his sunglasses on throughout the dark night. “No, it’s nothing serious,” she shook her head. “It’s just…I didn’t have a chance to say it earlier because of, you know, everything that’s happened, but…” she grinned, looked back at Link, “…I find it almost funny that you wear your sunglasses even during nighttime.”

Turning away, Zelda had expected that her statement would be the end of their “exchange” – if Link’s silent conveying of ideas via body language counted as the other half of their “conversation” – but as she turned her attention back to the orange juice in her hands, she was suddenly surprised to see something come down right before her eyes. She recoiled in reflex, but kept that movement in check when she realized that Link was, from the side, gently fitting his sunglasses over Zelda’s hidden ears and right in front of her eyes. As soon as the sunglasses were properly affixed on the bridge of her nose, however, Zelda immediately saw why Link always wore the sunglasses. The lenses seemed to be some sort of optic polarizer or photographic filter, which not only helped cut down on reflections but also cut down contrast of everything she saw; bright objects became easier to look at while darker environments lit up just a bit to make out more details; the world around her became that much visually clearer. It offered a good tactical advantage for something as small, portable, and unsophisticated as sunglasses. They weren’t nightvision goggles, but they certainly made up in the departments of size, cost, and adaptability. Nightvision goggles certainly couldn’t cut down on excessively bright lights.

“This is really nice,” Zelda had to admit with a smile even as she looked around the darkened, dawn-kissed landscape that had transformed before her eyes, slowly turning towards Link in the process. “I can’t blame you for wearing this all the time; I should ask Joint Intelligence to get me one of…” Zelda had meant to continue, but she suddenly trailed off as her eyes finally gazed upon Link standing right beside her. Her smile slackened and fell right off her lips even as she looked at Link’s face.

It was the first time she had ever seen Link without sunglasses. Zelda had not actually seen Link’s dossier before, and did not see the photograph of him without sunglasses. Now that she was looking directly into his blue eyes, however, sharp at the edges but soft within, the crown princess suddenly made a startling realization that this Joint Intelligence agent was actually…very attractive. She had not actually ever seen any boy or man possess eyes that were masculine-looking, yet also quite…pretty.

Zelda breathed. Somewhere in the back of her head, alarms were going off as they warned the princess that she was staring in a vulnerable manner into the eyes of a civil servant, but another mental voice whispered at them to be quiet because those eyes had so completely caught her off guard.

Link turning to meet Zelda’s gaze after he had taken another sip from the bottle of orange juice was what finally brought her back to reality, and, afflicted with the realization that she might possibly be blushing, she suddenly turned away from Link, feeling greatly embarrassed even as she feigned struggling with the sunglasses in the attempt to take them off. Thankfully, Link did not help and expedite the process – the process being the façade for Zelda to orientate herself and fight off the wave of embarrassment – and displayed a largely expressionless face that betrayed nothing when she finally turned back around to hand the sunglasses back to Link. He accepted it gently, putting them back on and – with mixed feelings for Zelda – masked his eyes behind them once more.

It was a gentle, delicate moment as the two looked at each other, one individual who suddenly didn’t know what to say, the other who never said anything at all.

Moments of silence passed before, finally, closing her eyes, Zelda inclined her head in what was a dignified bow of gratitude right before Link, her tired voiced breathing just loud enough for her loyal, dedicated, and steadfast interim bodyguard to hear, “Thank you, Link. Thank you for saving my life.”

And, like before, the silent, wordless nod Link offered in return had a clear flavor of “you’re welcome”.

*****

Exoria File #004
Valentine Revolution

Until seventeen years ago, the Kingdom of Valent enjoyed full diplomatic relations with both Hyrule and Gerudo under the reign of King Adam III and his wife Queen Eileen. Despite ailing economic conditions due to the national economic bubble, Valent remained the leading exporter of technological advancements. Its cutting of the military budget was heavily criticized by members of Valent’s national defense and national security communities for undermining the safety of the country, which led to a plot to launch a coup d’etat by highly influential members in both communities, including members of the Valentine Joint Chiefs. The plot, however, failed during its preparation stages when it was discovered two years prior to the Valentine Revolution; the effort to undermine the coup was rumored to be led by Lord Tacitus, younger brother and only sibling to King Adam III. Members of the plot committed suicide to save themselves from disgrace, while others were subsequently jailed and sentenced to life in prison for treason. Two years after the arrests, however, a highly successful coup, coined the Valentine Revolution by its masterminds, was launched by forces loyal to the masterminds behind the original plot, including former chairman of the Valentine Joint Chiefs, General Alphonse, who had been among those jailed when the plot was first discovered. Historians and analysts are not certain who was the actual mastermind of the Valentine Revolution, General Alphonse, the original conspirator who was eventually killed during the fighting, or Lord Tacitus, who joined the coup for unknown reasons and became the new king of Valent afterwards. The end result, however, was the same: The coup d’etat forces achieved a decisive victory in the capital and throughout the nation after two days of strategic fighting. Their victory was cemented by the widely-believed rumor that King Adam III and Queen Eileen had been killed in the conflict, although this was never confirmed by third-party intelligences sources. Under King Tacitus’ regime, Valent became an excessively isolationist nation, building up on a nationalistic and militaristic fervor that increased worry from its neighbors, Hyrule and Gerudo.

*****

Author’s Note: I have stated previously that, had Exoria possessed names for chapter, this one would probably be named “Motorcycle Chase Scene”, in reference to Final Fantasy VII. The more I wrote the chapter, however, putting Link through one obstacle after another, that feeling changed, and I thought that I would make a shout out at the first Halo game instead: “Wait, It Gets Worse!” I will admit, however, that I spent the entirety (well, most of it) of writing this chapter listening to "Chase of Highway" from the Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children Complete sountrack.

Before I say anything else, I want to thank my first three anonymous reviewers, Ri2, The Pilot, and Warbandit. It’s always heartwarming for an author to see that one’s works are being read and appreciated, even if it’s after a prologue and two chapters are properly written. I hope I can satisfy your needs in the future with further installments of Exoria.

I honestly don’t like writing action scenes. Maybe “not liking” is too strong a phrase, though, so I guess I’ll stick with I’m “impartial”. For me, writing action scenes is taxing and somewhat monotonous; you go through repetitively rapid rounds of conveying some of the same ideas utilizing the same words and phrases that you have become familiar with, in an effort to try to convey a scene in a three-dimensional sense. You’re always worried that you’re not being descriptive enough and the readers have no idea what you’re trying to convey and the relation of environmental aspects with each other, and, on the flip side, you’re also always worried that you’re being so worried that readers are stumbling across your words and finding it frustrating or boring. I’d actually be quite grateful if I left action-scene-writing to someone who’s good at it and can write at my level (not to suggest that I write well, never mind superbly, so there’s little room for me to be arrogant, but I do know there’s quite a number of horrendous fan fiction out there), but since no such volunteer has been brave enough to stand forth yet, I guess I’ll have to tackle this hurdle by my lonesome.

This chapter is notably longer than any of the previous chapters, so I’m going to make up for it by being less wordy in Chapter Four, which will be shorter. For those who have found an analogy to the normal Legend of Zelda formula, however, you have probably noticed that this is the conclusion of the first storyarc, the introduction of the world and the first crisis; after several more chapters of storytelling, we’ll be moving onto the traditional element of dungeon-busting. I won’t say how many dungeons there will be, though, and I’m not hinting what’s going to happen after that. You’ll just have to see for yourself, and I hope I can keep you all well-entertained until then.

Before I sign off on this author’s note, however, I would like to remind everyone that AuraNightgale has been doing an unbelievably awesome and winsome job of proofreading my chapters, and I can’t thank her enough for her patience – which probably exceeds the patience I have towards her not being online enough. She was also the one who helped me brainstorm some of Exoria, and, now that I’ve made the “Link jokingly wants to marry Epona” crack in canon, I should bring back an excerpt of an instant messaging conversation Aura and I had after she read this chapter and the joke.

Aura (6:40:39 AM): It was at this point that Link moreorless jokingly told himself, if only as a means of self-relieving his stress, that if only Epona could cook, he’d probably marry her. ...Once I finish laughing, that reminds me of something...

Sudentor (6:41:08 AM): Reminds you of? =3

*Aura pulls out IM history of conversation from months ago*

Sudentor: I'm also thinking of giving Link a Love Triangle.
Aura: Doesn't he usually have one in some form or another? =P
Aura: ...At least, according to some fans.
Sudentor: ...I guess? This one will be a bit more obvious, though.
Sudentor: One end is [censored, because there are spoilers].
Sudentor: The other is...well. You'll see. If I ever manage to write it.
Aura: Spoilaz, eh? Aura: I'm trying to remember the thoughts I had for this.
Sudentor: Well, it'll to be tough explaining it to you.
Aura: "And some other girl." "Okay, cool."
Aura: Epona! *brick'd*
Aura: *repeatedly*
Sudentor: ... ...
Sudentor: ... ...
Sudentor: ... ...
Sudentor: I am serious.
Sudentor: My head suddenly hurt.
Sudentor: In real life.
Sudentor: Not kidding.
Aura: xD
Aura: Then I've done my job.

*back to present*

Sudentor (6:44:33 AM): /me ROFLs.

Sudentor (6:44:45 AM): Okay.

Sudentor (6:44:46 AM): Fine.

Sudentor (6:44:48 AM): You got me. XD

Aura (6:44:49 AM): =3

Sudentor (6:44:51 AM): It's Epona. XD

Aura (6:45:02 AM): *score!

You now all have permission to laugh at me at my own expense.

Chapter Four is now up. You know the drill. ^_^;

*****

Chapter Four

The absence of trouble of any sort at the Hylian-Gerudo border told Link and Zelda that something was wrong and that there was trouble.

Stopping his motorcycle right between two booths between the highway lanes that acted as shelter from the sun for border control officials, Link quietly left Zelda sitting there on Epona – bulletproof windows protecting the interior of the two booths shielded her from attacks on two sides – as he drew his gunsword in handgun mode. He was pretty sure the first time that his eyes weren’t mistaken as he approached border customs, but now that he actually got off and made one round across the checkpoint, moving from one fence to another through the facilities making up Hylian-Gerudo customs, he was very much sure of his initial assessment.

The border checkpoint was completely devoid of personnel, the border completely devoid of life. No bodies either. It had been abandoned.

It was noon, some ways more than five hours since Link filled up Epona with enough gas and got on their way to the Hyrule-Gerudo border again. Aside from two or three Valentine squads – strays that seemed to be merely going to rejoin the main unit rather than actual patrols – that they had to avoid on the way, it was, for the most part, a smooth and quiet ride…but strangely empty. The metropolitan center held the vast majority of the area’s population, so there wasn’t much in the way of nearby towns, but this was still quite uncanny. No living Hylian soul since they had left Hyrule City. It was as if the end of the world had come and went without either Link or Zelda. It meant either the Hylian military had done an extraordinary job at getting the civilians out…or something far worse.

The fact that the Hylian-Gerudo border was, in fact, a wide expanse of desolate desert didn’t help impressions much.

“Something’s wrong,” Zelda whispered as Link returned, the slack, downward angle of his gunsword in a loose one-handed grip indicating to the princess that the agent had found no one. She spoke more for no one’s benefit; both of them were already past knowing something was wrong, but neither of them had settled on a very definite possibility as to what. An abandoned border station could mean a great deal of things, not all of them a certainty…but definitely all of them unwelcome.

Link exhaled deeply, his version of a slightly frustrated sigh. Without enough evidence – which bugged him – he didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, not when they were cut off from the rest of their allies…and possibly the world. A fleeting glance at Zelda told him that his princess thought the same.

Moving over to Epona, Link looked at his GPS device once more. The road they were on would eventually take them to a Gerudo military base – Sirsa Military Airbase – if they rode for another two hours. Hopefully, it would be there that they found their answers…but, somehow, Link wasn’t feeling very optimistic about that. Still, he looked over at Zelda again, who was silently and half-heartedly reading the GPS map with him, her mind more absorbed on what move they were going to make next. When she caught the inquisitive look Link was giving her, she appeared to be deep in thought for a moment…but eventually nodded.

The danger aside, they were going to continue on their current course anyways.

*****

It turned out that Link was half-right and half-wrong. On one hand, they had indeed found their answer to what was going on…twenty minutes before they even reached Sirsa Military Airbase. The problem was, however, they had little reason to be optimistic about what they found.

Link immediately drove Epona off the main road and into the vast expanse of sand as Zelda gasped, the two of them confirming that the great pillar of black smoke rising from the horizon was indeed from the desert military base many kilometers out, a faint outline that contrasted itself from the bright fires burning across the facilities. The desert was more sand than actual dust, so although Epona slowed in the desert with the absence of an actual road, she didn’t kick up a massive cloud that could’ve alerted anyone to their presence, something Link feared and took great pains to avoid. He stopped once, three kilometers away from the base, to actually attempt to spot any immediate threat in the facility. Noting the absence of a perimeter guard, Link moved forward, but slowly, minimizing noise from the engine. If there was anyone inside waiting for them, he didn’t want to raise an alert just yet.

Still, fires burning in Sirsa could only mean one thing. “The war’s gotten here too,” Zelda whispered in a voice that conveyed disbelief and – to a slighter extent – horror.

The barbed wire fence around Sirsa Military Airbase was, for the most part, gone – only patches of them still stood erect and undamaged, but most of the stretch of metallic barrier had been toppled, seemingly run down by armored vehicles or torn apart by explosions. Link had no problems slipping into the perimeter from the side, stick close to the hangar bays that were lined up on the northern side of the base. Some of them were still burning. He parked Epona into the shadow of one of the hangars, pressing her against the wall before killing the power. Motioning for Zelda to stay on Epona and remain hidden, Link quickly moved stealthily at a bit of a crouch towards the corner of the hangar, making sure the alley between the two hangars were clear before moving forward.

No longer riding fast on Epona with the wind blowing pleasantly across his face, Link realized for the first time that Gerudo afternoons truly were quite hot. This was only amplified by the fact that he still wore his all-black Joint Intelligence uniform, complete with jacket and tie. His personal discomfort, however, was hardly priority; he stomached the feeling and decided that he would deal with it until he was sure there was no immediate danger.

Peering out from behind the corner to the rest of the airfield and the runways, Link saw that Sirsa Airbase was in really bad shape. Even by looking at the aftermath of the battle, he could see what had transpired on this battlefield. Smoking, burning wreckages of fighter jets spewed across the runways; its numbers indicated to Link that, although some of the planes managed to get airborne, others were shot down before they even got off the ground. Those included the skeletons of various aircraft that burned along with the hangars they were stored in, the pilots never having got to them in time. He recognized the familiar craters caused by artillery, by missiles, by bombs. He recognized marks the anti-aircraft guns against hangar walls, holes caused by tank shells. And then there were the bodies. Tanned soldiers in military desert khakis littered the ground every now and then, some having died from gunshot wounds, others from blasts. It wasn’t just Gerudo casualties either; every now and then, Link would spot a corpse in Valentine green as his eyes scanned the airbase. The result wasn’t a pile of corpses, but the numbers, Link knew, were pretty significant. He had a feeling he would be finding more of them at the air traffic control facilities.

Judging by the carnage in Sirsa Military Airbase, the Gerudo soldiers had not exactly been caught off guard…but whatever measures they had taken to become completely ready had obviously not been fast enough.

His eyesight was pretty good, and the sunglasses minimized the glare of the window’s reflections, but Link honestly wasn’t sure if there was a sniper at the airbase’s control tower a kilometer away. That would be where he’d station his sniper if he actually had one with him. The chances were unlikely; his eyes told him that there was no one up there from his angle, and there was the assumption that, if there was someone up there, they would’ve noticed his approach on motorbike some time ago and alerted someone. There might not be any living soul left…or maybe someone who was still alive was a Gerudo soldier, not a Valentine on. Still, he didn’t want to take the chance and give a sniper – friend or foe – a clear shot at him; he was going to make his way slowly and covertly to the air traffic control facilities, in order to take out any snipers there and take a good look around the airbase from a vantage point…which was difficult, considering that much of the base was made of wide-open roads, runways, and areas, giving Link little place to hide.

Having made the preliminary look-around, Link turned around, traversing the alley before rounding the corner back to where he had left Zelda and Epona. Back in the shadows, Link – for the first time since leaving Hyrule City – took off his black jacket and his tie – revealing the gunsword holster on his side over his black shirt – and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt. The temperature here was stifling.

“Does it look bad?” Zelda asked in a quiet, worried whisper. She was sweating; unlike Link, her extravagant dress did not give her the luxury of being able to take off any article of clothing without seeming immodest.

Link momentarily wondered to what extent Zelda expected from the word “bad”…then killed that line of thought. He nodded. No matter how one looked at it, the situation was rather grim. He slung his jacket and tie over Epona’s frame. What he was wearing wasn’t exactly ideal for field work, but it’d have to do. He motioned for Zelda to stay put where it was safe before checking the ammunition for his gunsword. He only had two magazines left – fifteen rounds each – plus twelve rounds in the already-loaded magazine. In hindsight, he should’ve grabbed more ammunition back in Hyrule City when they passed by the underground armory beneath the Haven, but it was too late to regret that now. Three magazines would have to do; any more than that, and he would be getting into a firefight he couldn’t possibly win.

He moved along the outer edges of the airbase, ensuring he stayed behind the hangars. He was lucky in that regard; despite the high sun, the hangars still provided some shadow for Link to hide in, his black attire blending well into the darkened areas. It was also well and good that the sun was very strong, as it only meant the contrast was greater, the shadows harsher. It meant Link’s camouflage was even better than he had hoped for. Every now and then, he’d press himself against a hangar, look past the alleys between the hangars towards the airfield, see if there were any threats. Corpses – whether human or mechanical ones – were in no shortage, but there was yet to be any actual obstacles left for him. It worried Link some. Was this truly some sort of gross error on Valent’s part, or was there some sort of trap lying in wait?

The line of hangars eventually ended, and Link stared at an uncomfortable two hundred meters of wide open space between where he hid behind the last hangar and the air traffic control facilities. A perfect target for a sniper, if one was around. He spent three minutes pressing himself against the wall, trying to look past the corner as he searched the most common sniper vantage points, looking for the telltale sign of a barrel or a lens flare. After not finding any, Link decided he would take his chances – not that there was much of another choice, and sprinted the two kilometers as fast as he could. His steps were irregular, his velocity inconsistent, hoping that it might throw off a sniper’s aim with his second changes in speed and direction. Still he was looking upwards for any sign of a sniper, any sign of danger, any sign that he might be caught completely in the open without any sort of cover.

Five meters away from the nearest shadow of the ground-level air traffic control facilities leading to the tower, Link leapt and dove, curling into a roll as he made that final lunge for safety. Seconds later, he was up against the wall, safely out of sight from any sniper vantage points as he breathed heavily, his gunsword brought up close to his face in handgun mode. There had been no attempt at sniping, no sign that there were any enemy forces out there. Perhaps the place truly was derelict.

It didn’t hurt to be careful, however. There was a door – slightly ajar – to his right on the wall he had pressed himself against, leading into the facility. Scooting himself over to the door, he took off his sunglasses as soon as he reached the edge, holding up his sunglasses with a spare hand as a mirror to see if there was anything inside he should be concerned about. After ensuring that it was empty of anyone inside, he put his sunglasses back on, took a deep breath, a whirled around into the room.

He was only partially correct about the room being empty.

The room was littered with bodies. Link stepped cautiously into what almost looked like a large empty office space, filled with workstations and cubicles. The ground was layered with puddles of blood oozing from soldiers killed in action on the ground, both from Gerudo and Valentine. However, it was clear – just by the fact that the Valentine corpses wore full tactical gear while the Gerudo bodies looked like they were part of flight staff – that most of the bodies in this area would be of Gerudo airmen. Most of them were women; the Gerudo population was overwhelmingly female, while Valent recruited equally from both males and females groups. That was another thing that bothered Link. There was no body recovery operation. The remains of their own dead were usually recovered rather quickly by the military, if only for a means to provide a statistic as to who has died. Yet the Valentine bodies had just been…left there. Did the Valentine armed forces intend to send a clean-up party afterwards? After the continent-wide offensive succeeded or lost momentum? Link honestly wasn’t sure, but the lack of answers left a rather bad taste in his mouth.

He stepped gingerly through the offices at a half-crouch, careful to avoid the puddles of blood to prevent him from leaving footprints. The wounds on the body looked fairly recent; even the pools of blood had yet to completely dry and cake over. This battle could not have been concluded more than a few hours ago…yet the haste at which the Valentine army pulled out was amazing. Just from the bullet holes everywhere, Link could tell how the firefight went down…and how little of a chance the Gerudo air force personnel had against a much better-trained and better-equipped Valentine army in terms of ground combat.

Sweeping through the facilities at a painstakingly slow pace, Link moved from office to lobby to cafeteria, from one building to another. The results were uniform; no one greeted him aside from the presence of the dead.

It was twenty minutes later when he finally ascended the staircase towards the top of the airbase’s control tower. With his gunsword held tightly, he silently switched the weapon with a flourish into sword mode; the smaller confines of the tower would give close-quarters combat an advantage, especially since had didn’t have an automatic weapon that could effectively sweep the tower with a hail of bullets. Navigating the last staircase in silence, Link peeked beyond the edge of the staircase and around the guardrail surrounding it. His eyes scoured his surroundings once before he slowly slept into the control room of the tower, a glass-framed room surrounded by computers that possessed a three-sixty overlook around the airport and its desert surroundings.

The control tower was empty.

At least that answered the sniper question. Converting his gunsword back to handgun mode, Link holstered the weapon as he checked the computers around the tower. There were no corpses here, and the computers were all inoperable upon further inspection. The air traffic control crew must have completely wiped out everything on the computers when they realized there was no hope of salvaging this airbase; if Sirsa was going to be captured by Valent, then Gerudo would make sure it was not functioning at full capacity…and that sensitive data wouldn’t fall into enemy hands.

Peering out the windows, Link commanded the view around the airbase. It was then that Link truly realized the extent of the damage inflicted onto the airbase. Many buildings had completely collapsed, and far too many of the hangars had been destroyed by a combination of fires and explosions. Wrecks of airplanes could be seen even beyond the airbase where they had been shot down over the desert. Humanlike shapes here and there indicated where there was a body, and the runway was also blasted with explosions and blasts that tore craters across the area. His vantage point was hindered slightly by small columns of smoke that rose into the air and eventually formed a black pillar that accumulated in the clouds as a dark fog.

Below, however, Link spied something that he had not seen earlier on his way in, a single Valentine armored personnel carrier parked beside what looked like the airbase barracks. Unlike the other vehicles around, this one was not charred, damaged, or destroyed, but in completely battle-worthy condition. Maybe it was a single patrol left here? Link immediately tensed and drew his gunsword once more; perhaps there was still someone left on this airbase of Valentine origin. He wanted to take care of that before doing anything else.

It took another fifteen minutes of careful navigation around the remnants of the airbase before he managed to find the door that led out of the facilities and close enough to the lone APC. Opening the door just a bit, he ventured a peek out; no one as far as he could see. Moving quickly, he dashed the fifty meters of tarmac from the building’s exit to the side of the armored vehicle. He listened carefully as he held his breath, and, not at all unexpectedly, heard muffled voice from inside the vehicle. If Link had to guess, the source of the sound was likely to be in the back of the carrier, where infantrymen could sit and rest with reasonable protection.

The hatches were closed and securely locked. Not that much of a problem for Link, who immediately transformed his gunsword into a longsword once more. With a single, powerful stroke of his gunsword, Link slashed at the two securing bolts that allowed the APC’s armored rear hatch to swing open and shut. The gunsword made a distinct metallic sound as they severed through the reinforcing components…and the hatch groaned as it fell outwards, hitting the ground with a clang.

There were two Valentine soldiers, army infantrymen, inside who looked like they had been resting inside. They had been alerted when Link forced the rear hatch open, but they had not been fast enough to draw their assault rifles. They moved to draw their weapons and even had them halfway up, but Link took one threatening step forward, placing one foot into the APC, the point of his gunsword coming up, obviously poised to strike. Both soldiers froze at the movement; judging by the performance of their special forces units, they were all too aware of how effective a gunsword could be at close-quarters combat. They hesitated, keeping the assault rifles in their hands tentatively even as they kept their barrels pointed towards the ground, prepared to react, but not eager to give the Link any reason to use the sword.

The army corporal on Link’s left seemed edgy, his breathing heavy and agitated. On the right, the sergeant seemed calmer even as she watched Link, alert and careful. Watching the situation with a keen, careful eye, the sergeant spoke softly to the corporal. “It’s alright, corporal,” she breathed calmly, standing frozen where she was. “No one needs to get hurt over this. Put down your weapon. Slowly.”

The corporal hesitated, still in a semi-crouched position, ready to bring his rifle to bear on Link if need be. He glanced shakily at his sergeant, who silently but meaningfully nodded back in a slow, deliberate manner. It was only then that the corporal slowly slipped off the strap of his assault rifle from his shoulder, and, bending his knees to drop himself to a bit of a crouch, began to lay his assault rifle – still slowly – down on the ground…

Movement to Link’s right immediately made him react. The sergeant had suddenly brought her assault rifle up, preparing to fire but, more importantly, draw attention to herself so the corporal could get the better shot. The rifle, switched to full automatic, had already fired twice by the time Link moved into attack range, but, thankfully, the rounds struck the armored floor between them, and they did not ricochet back up to hit Link, who immediately moved his arms into a slashing movement even as the corporal dropped down to a full, stabilizing crouch, shouldering his assault rifle in preparation to fire…

Link did not have the luxury to attempt to disarm the two soldiers. The stroke that he administered with the blade, therefore, the tip of his sword slashing right past the body armor of both soldiers and cutting into the flesh, was lethal. A deep gash formed across the chests of both soldiers, who slumped onto the ground after both emitted a wet sigh and did not move.

Link knelt beside the two bodies, pressing his fingers on their necks to ensure there was no longer a pulse. He was correct in his guess; they were both dead. A snap of a switch later, the gunsword returned to handgun mode, and he looked out the APC, ensuring that this wasn’t some sort of ambush and there weren’t any Valentine soldiers waiting for him to come out. Indeed, there weren’t; as far as Link could tell – despite his worries that the situation was far too suspicious for his liking – they were safe.

For now.

*****

Some of the hangars were still intact and undamaged, so Link pulled Zelda into one when he returned to the shadows behind the hangars. It was still quite hot despite being indoors and in better shade, but not as much as it was outside. Link, admittedly, was also concerned about Zelda’s stamina and fatigue, so he silently offered her his jacket even as he sat her down on a cluster of metal crates nearby. If she decided she would sleep, the jacket could be used as a pillow or a blanket. Most likely pillow; the princess would probably boil over if she tried to use it as a blanket. She graciously took it and folded it into a neat square even as she tried to smooth out her hair and her dress. His princess attended to, Link got back to work.

The Valentine military was obviously in Gerudo, meaning riding with just Epona – restricted to the ground and the roads – was going to be even more dangerous than it already was. Furthermore, it only encouraged Link to move at night; he still wasn’t sure where the enemy army was, and he’d rather sneak right past them under the cover of darkness instead of when the sun was still high in the sky with them well into the afternoon. This called for a different set of tools…specifically, a different type of vehicle: An aircraft.

Not all the hangars were damaged, so there was a chance that a number of aircraft would still be untouched and still operable. After all, it was unlikely that the Gerudo pilots managed to get to all the aircraft when the airbase was attacked. With Epona, Link made one quick round around the hangar buildings, memorizing each and every one of the intact aircraft still within. It was a disheartening process; most hangars had been destroyed, and most of the exceptions were empty. A rare few were only damaged hangars with intact fighter jets inside, but the problem was that Link was looking for a specific type of aircraft; fighter jets did not apply.

What eventually did catch Link’s attention, however, was a rather large shape inside one of the last few intact hangars he was passing by. His hopes were answered as he drove Epona in for a better look; stashed away in the corner was a heavy transport helicopter, the largest the Gerudo air force had in its arsenal. With a thirty-meter-long but well-armored body, the helicopter lacked the two-rotor design of Hyrule’s heavy transport helicopters, but it certainly did make up with its utterly massive single rotor, which provided enough power for the helicopter to take off even with an additional fifteen thousand kilograms in cargo. If memory served correctly, this model did minesweeping for the army and the navy, while the air force used them for heavy lifting and transport – Gerudo’s air force was relatively weak compared to Hyrule and Valent, so their air power was instead built with the emphasis of supporting and fielding their much more powerful ground forces. Even better was the fact that the aircraft was painted sleek black, perfect for nighttime operations.

At the moment, however, transport was exactly what Link needed; there was no way in hell he was going to leave Epona behind.

Boarding the helicopter, Link quickly activated the aircraft’s instruments and ran a diagnostic. His hopes were answered; the readings were green across the board, meaning the helicopter was in a completely operable condition with no damage whatsoever. It was fully loaded with weapons and ammunition too. The fuel gauge was only at quarter-full, however, so Link needed to fix that. He remembered the presence of several still-intact fuel trucks closer to the hangar where he had left Zelda, so the helicopter was driven – in a manner not unlike driving a car – over to Zelda’s hangar, but not before Epona was loaded onto the helicopter’s cargo hold through the rear ramp, then tied down to ensure it wouldn’t topple over in-flight. The helicopter’s approach was relatively silent when it entered the hangar Zelda was in; Link immediately saw that the princess was indeed sound asleep, and she did not wake as the aircraft quietly entered through the hangar doors. Link reminded himself that the rest of the tasks should be performed in relative silence. Given a choice, he would’ve done refueling elsewhere, but his sense of duty and loyalty demanded that he stay close to the princess and keep her guarded.

A three-minute jog towards the airbase’s main facility allowed Link to reach where the fuel trucks were. There were three trucks still intact, but only one still had the keys left in them, so Link got into one truck, then drove it back to the hangar where the helicopter was waiting. The truck’s loud engine was harder to mask, but Link drove it inside the hangar doors anyways before killing power to the engine. Surprisingly, Zelda still did not wake…or had woken, but refused to open her eyes or get up. The entire ordeal since she was whisked out of the safe room in Hyrule Castle must’ve been harder on her than Link had originally suspected. Still, he couldn’t deny her strength; she was handling the entire situation much more calmly and rationally than he would’ve otherwise expected from any other civilian. He had to give her credit for managing to keep it together in the face of such a disaster.

The hangar bay doors were closed to prevent scouts from looking into a hangar with a refueling helicopter. The helicopter was filled to maximum capacity about twenty minutes later, and Link double-checked the aircraft’s instruments to make sure. The transport helicopter could fly almost just as fast as Epona could ride, but Link had commandeered the helicopter for maneuverability – he wanted to be able to stay out of reach of Valentine patrols and not be restricted to the ground – and Zelda’s comfort. It was much easier to sit on a helicopter’s co-pilot seat rather than the back of a motorcycle.

Link was still not ready to leave yet. Communications were not being jammed here, so Link turned on the cockpit radio after taking a national road map and a pen from the fuel truck’s glove compartment. Shifting through frequencies, Link tried to find any military channels the armed forces – both Gerudo and Valentine – were using in an attempt to intercept their communications. It was not easy; most of the radio chatter was heavily encrypted to prevent eavesdroppers – just like him – from listening in, and the helicopter did not have the proper decryption algorithms to make sense of most of the transmissions. Link was thankful that the radio could receive as much as it did, probably due to the lack of electronic countermeasures in the area that made radiowave transmission and decryption that much more difficult. Most of the communiqués that were received were of Gerudo origin – understandable, considering the decoding device on this Gerudo helicopter – but that was all well and good even as Link drew circles and lines across the map of this desert nation. The point of this task was rather simple: Link wanted to know where the Valentine forces were, what areas they were occupying, and where there was fighting…because those were places he wanted to keep his vulnerable transport helicopter well away from.

As he suspected, communications on both sides were frantic, which could only mean that Valentine forces were definitely attacking Gerudo positions all across the nation, forming a main line of resistance that exchanged heavy fire. There was a stark, professional efficiency in which Valent coordinated its offensive even as early reports indicated a smooth offensive forward, which play a stark contrast to the loud, fast-paced, somewhat panicked reports coming in from the Gerudo side. As the hours passed, however, this slowly began to change; frustration began to lace the voices of Valentine commanding officers as reports of success became less frequent, while the relief heard amongst the Gerudo channels indicated that the desert army was finally successfully holding back what was otherwise a massive offensive campaign. Eventually, both sides were holding through at a stalemate, with no massive offensive campaigns on either side.

Four hours into the exercise, Link finally determined – through listening to assorted Gerudo and Valentine battle reports – that Valentine armed forces neglected a five kilometer gap across their main line of resistance two hundred kilometers to the southeast. It was one of several, but judging by the circles and scratches where Link marked as positions of where the Valentine armed forces were, this empty spot was most conspicuous. Consulting the map, he quickly saw the reason why: There was a system of canyons and crevices there, massive and irregular in shape, and the army could not actually pass through efficiently. Not to mention the area held absolutely no strategic advantage, not with the area far from any infrastructure or naturally-advantageous terrain. A helicopter might stand more of a chance flying over, however. Furthermore, with the sun already setting, Link was fairly confident that strategic operations would likely end for the day as night settled in, allowing for both militaries to take a reprise from the fighting. This meant that the positions of the Valentine army were not likely to change anytime tonight, and Link did not have to worry about Valentine forces not being where they weren’t supposed to…as much, anyways. There was never any certainty about these kinds of things. At least it meant a lower chance of catching anti-aircraft fire, however.

Link made a quick double-check of everything done so far, ensuring that he hadn’t forgotten anything. Once he was certain that he had diminished the risk of being attacked to its absolute minimum, he stretched in his seat, closed his eyes for a little bit. Link had to be honest when he admitted to himself that he was feeling exhausted. Not having actually slept since the previous morning, he had effectively been awake, alert, and busy for the past thirty-six hours, all without a moment of rest. He contemplated just how well he would be able to fly a helicopter in this state…then decided that it shouldn’t be a problem; it would only be two hours to nearby Gerudo defensive positions – a bit longer if they had to be careful and avoid Valentine units, and if that happened, Link was sure adrenaline would be able to compensate.

It was only after this that he slipped out of the helicopter’s pilot seat and decided to go over and wake Zelda. She slept soundly, as expected of a princess; the desert heat had cooled as the sun began to set and the night went from a bright azure to a blazing red to a melancholy purple, and that must’ve subconsciously encouraged Zelda to rest as much as she could. Link was almost hesitant to wake her up, but he did, gently shaking her shoulder. She woke slowly and drowsily; he had not been rough, so she had not become instantly alert with the assumption that something was wrong, and allowed Link to help her up and steer her towards the prepared helicopter.

Zelda was not actually quite sure what was going on even as she was put onto the co-pilot seat of the helicopter. She was still quite unclear of mind when the door was closed behind her, and it wasn’t until Link opened the hangar doors, came around, entered the cockpit on the pilot side, and began flipping switches to activate the helicopter that Zelda suddenly realized that she had missed a very important detail, and the reason why she had been slow to react was because she had not actually expected one thing. Watching Link calibrate the instruments of the helicopter fluently even as the engines came online, the princess asked rather incredulously, “…You know how to fly a helicopter?”

Link nodded stoically as he drove the helicopter out of the hangar bay, but when he realized that Zelda was still looking at the young agent incredulously, his eyebrows raised and shrugged in a manner that almost asked, “…What, don’t you?”

Even as their helicopter rolled out onto the tarmac runway and the rotors began to spin in preparation for takeoff, Zelda wonder what vehicle Link didn’t know how to operate.

As the rotors gained speed and grew to a deafening roar, creating a miniature hurricane around them, Link quickly pulled together the safety harness, a more extensive version of what is otherwise known as a safety belt in a car, and, tapping the contraption twice, motioned for Zelda to do the same; she quickly obeyed. Snapping the final clasp into place, she noticed the map Link had tucked right beside his seat, and took one look at it before immediately realizing just what Link had been doing, marking the map with circles, lines, and arrows. No further explanation was needed as Zelda gingerly took the map, attracting Link’s attention. “You should concentrate on flying,” Zelda tried to call out above the sound of the helicopter, but her voice was drowned out in the hurricane; even she couldn’t hear herself.

Link knew that most of the sound actually came from the engine and the rotating machinery inside the helicopter, and that these transport helicopters were actually relatively silent from the outside. Still, it didn’t help Zelda’s situation any. Patiently, Link pulled down a pair of headsets from above him, and Zelda, seeing the second pair, did the same with hers. Generally, the pilot helmets were wired into the communications system, but with the absence of helmets, helicopters generally came along with an extra set just in case.

Affixing the headset properly to her head, she twisted down the microphone, tapped it twice to ensure there was feedback, then spoke to Link again, who also had his headset on. “You should concentrate on flying,” Zelda tried again, “and leave the map-reading to me.”

Link momentarily wondered whether or not Zelda could actually read military maps…but figured that the princess was sober enough to know what was at stake; she wouldn’t offer that kind of help unless she was confident she could contribute. Nodding solemnly, Link ensured that the rotors had achieved takeoff rotation rate before finally increasing power. Slowly, the heavy transport helicopter lifted off its wheels and began its ascent. Despite having sat in transport helicopters many times in the past, Zelda still instinctively grabbed tightly onto the edge of her seat; she had never actually rode a helicopter on the co-pilot’s seat, and the view she commanded was, admittedly, a bit…intimidating. Still, she steeled herself, repeating in her mind that taking off was the hardest part, and she should have faith in Link, who wouldn’t have taken a helicopter had he not known how to pilot it.

Gently, the helicopter finally achieved a safe altitude – approximately twenty meters above ground, as Link didn’t want to pull off anything too fancy with an aircraft this heavy, especially with Zelda onboard – and Link tilted the yoke forward; the nose of the helicopter tipped downwards ever so slightly as it began to hover right on ahead. It took a few more seconds before the helicopter achieved a velocity of more than two hundred and eighty kilometers per hour, its maximum speed. He’d have to slow eventually when he got close to where the two armies were fighting, but, for now, he maintained his current speed and altitude, flying low enough to prevent himself from appearing like a solar flare on enemy radar, but not so low that he was creating a sandstorm under a helicopter.

Link spied the terrain around and below the helicopter even as he flew on, keeping an eye on the radar, provided by the radome at the nose of the aircraft. So far, everything was quiet and dark; the only exception was Sirsa Military Airbase, which still burned and lit the horizon a dim orange in contrast to the dark navy blue that was swiftly turning a stark black. Hopefully, the situation would remain that way.

“This doesn’t make any sense.” Zelda’s voice suddenly came over his headset. Utilizing the light from the computer instruments, Zelda was reading the map while consulting a strategic pathfinder system – a military version of global positioning – in front of her. She also kept an eye on the terrain around her just in case the instruments were faulty, but diverted some of that attention on Link as well. She had an uncanny knack at multi-tasking.

Link tilted his head slightly in her direction, indicating that he was giving her some of his attention, but would also like some clarification as to what she was trying to refer to.

“The Valentine strategy,” Zelda elaborated, her voice thick with concentration as she continued to seem distracted by a combination of everything that had happened to her so far and everything that she was keeping track of now. “A political tripod – Hyrule, Gerudo, and Valent dividing power into three on the continent – may be fragile, but it keeps one nation from attempting anything foolish in fear of retaliation or exploitation from the third. Yet Valent is attacking…both countries. That’s the worst possible move.”

Link wasn’t so sure about that. He understood the logic behind the political tripod, a favored formation for an international zero-sum game that kept all three nations in check. One didn’t become a Joint Intelligence agent without understanding geopolitics enough to predict the consequences of their actions. But he remembered that walker Valent had deployed against them back in Hyrule City…that massive armored vehicle that walked on legs and destroyed an entire roadblock in all of about three seconds. He had never seen anything like it before, but the agent had no doubt of the weapon’s ridiculously high effectiveness. Somehow, Link didn’t think that this was about Valent making a bad move, not as much as it was about Hyrule and Gerudo no longer having the cards to keep Valent in check.

Zelda couldn’t read minds, however, and continued in her distracted manner. “They’re not holding the bases either. There doesn’t even seem to be a strategic objective for the war. They’re just destroying everything. They’re not holding key positions, not occupying towns or cities, not commandeering bases…They just run over everything in their way and move on. I have no idea what they’re trying to accomplish.”

That was something Link could agree with. Granted, he was a special operations agent, not a soldier, but he knew enough of military strategy for him to realize that Valent’s behavior was…excessively abnormal. The occupational force in Hyrule City seemed only enough to force out the last remnants of Hylian resistance, not to actually hold the city. The invasion force weren’t setting up strategic positions outside the main line of resistance they were engaging enemy armies on. They destroyed bases, didn’t bother to collect the bodies, and just…moved on. He wished he had been able to capture the two Valentine soldiers from earlier alive; he might’ve had more answers if they had survived interrogation. Because, at the moment – and he was sure Zelda felt the same way – Valent’s strategy seemed geared towards destruction…simply destroying everything.

Suppressing the chill rising up his spine, Link forced his thoughts to another direction, and wondered just how well the Hylian military was holding together. The last time they had even seen the Hylian military was the friendly roadblock in Hyrule City on Highway A-7…which was summarily destroyed. Afterwards, they didn’t even see wreckages or bodies along the way to Gerudo. Were they making a strategic retreat to regroup in the absence of their commander-in-chief? Just what had happened since they managed to seal Zelda away in a safe room after initial defenses were overwhelmed?

There wasn’t much else to talk about. Link obviously was in no mind to speak, and Zelda needed to multi-task – and probably think about the welfare of her nation as well – so they flew on in relative silence for the most part, which was broken from time-to-time as Zelda made slight course corrections and pointed out possible signs of the enemy in the distance for the first two hours.

Two hours later, the orange glow of distant fires on the horizon told both Link and Zelda that they were definitely headed in the right direction.

Link immediately lowered his altitude even more as he decreased speed, moving the helicopter more stealthily than he had before as he looked over at the map Zelda held; she shifted it over in his direction so he could get a better look. Link recalled that there was a string of rock formations in the area – the national attractions guide on the back of the map had mentioned it and its location in passing – and, after determining its rough location, made sure his heading was turned slightly southwards before moving forward once more at a slow pace. If he was right, then this was the right direction to be headed.

That they were getting closer to the fires meant that he was.

Zelda gasped even as her hands went over to her mouth as she looked down over the flaming carnage they flew over. Link remembered marking this place on the map; if his recollections of the radio chatter were accurate, the Gerudo army had initially held this position with furious fighting on both sides, but the staggering losses eventually convinced the defenders that this portion of the desert bore no strategic advantage, and they were forced to make a tactical retreat…but not before leaving many of their ruined tanks and sisters-in-arms behind.

The entire thing looked like a scene out of hell. Tanks, helicopters, and every military vehicle deployed to the area had been destroyed, rent, and charred, burnt by the flames that still flickered and waved and licked at melted battle plates, the edges of metal having been torn asunder, looking as if they were great jags and scimitars sticking out and twisting evilly from some sort of hostile alien landscape. The vehicles were not seen every now and then either; it seemed as if the entire desert area was, in fact, covered in destroyed vehicles, all of them aflame, a massive bonfire in the desert. Every now and then, there would be the unexpected but loud crack from below as unspent ammunition caught fire and detonated, an occurrence that happened every now and then between long periods of relative silence, causing Zelda to flinch almost every time.

Link was just happy that Zelda couldn’t see the bodies; the flames were likely to have turned all of them to ashes, or hid them under the brightly glowing blazes. He tapped the pathfinder device twice, configuring it so that it displayed a more localized digital map, but his ulterior motive was to attract his princess’ attention from the unholy carnage back to…anything else. It worked; Zelda got back to work looking on the maps, but Link could tell she was greatly shaken. He gently began to tilt the helicopter away from the graveyard of war; he didn’t need to let Zelda see that, and the smoke and smell of burning metal and flesh was beginning to seep its way into the helicopter.

Minutes later, the rock formations became more obvious, and the density of the fires of war thinned. Consulting the map and the various instruments of the helicopter, Zelda did the math instantly in her head before pointing Link in the right heading. “There,” she whispered, her finger indicating in the direction of what otherwise seemed like a wide canyon. “That formation should lead us for two kilometers eastbound.” Link nodded, but did a quick double-check of her calculations. He didn’t need to put the numbers together as precisely as Zelda did; he just made sure the rough results were close enough, and ventured the guess that the princess was accurate enough. He altered his course just by a few degrees, moving through the canyon and spires of rocks cut and smoothened by centuries of erosion. They bore an uncomfortable resemblance towards the valley of death that they had passed through earlier, but possessed smoother edges instead of the sickening curls that the molten metal from before had adopted.

Twisting his eyebrows into a frown, Link concentrated even as he carefully piloted the helicopter through the ravine. The geographic depression allowed for him to remain off any low-altitude anti-aircraft radar Valent might be packing in the area – lessening the chances a fighter jet would be scrambled to their position and end their escape with a well-placed air-to-air missile – but that wouldn’t matter much if his rotors caught a cliff wall and sent the helicopter on a chaotic tumble from which he could never recover. He wasn’t exactly an ace pilot either, and maneuvering twenty thousand kilograms of thirty-meter-long helicopter through a thin crevice wasn’t exactly the easiest of tasks. There were times where he was forced to hover in place for minutes to look for the best place to inch forward, but the canyon eventually widened, allowing Link to move with increasing speed. Still, with aerial maneuverability difficult even without ground terrain restrictions, he could only guess why Gerudo forces didn’t bother to station units here; it was near-impossible to navigate this kind of terrain.

“We should be reaching the end of the canyon soon,” Zelda informed as Link picked up speed, not enough to be doing any daredevil tricks, but enough for them to not feel like an airborne caterpillar. “If we’re lucky, well…” she took a deep breath, then exhaled; it was shaky. “Hopefully, there will be Gerudo forces waiting for us on the other side.”

Link merely nodded, but began to tinker with the communications suite on the helicopter. Zelda winced as a wash of static came over her headset, which was slowly replaced by the unintelligible but distinct sounds of human voices on the radio, definitely female. She felt a growing excitement in her chest as she realized that all of the voices on the radio were female, and they were speaking Interlingua with different variants of a Gerudo accent. They were getting close…at least, close enough for her to hear their radio transmissions despite being shielded in a canyon.

Apparently, they were also close enough for them to be detected by Gerudo forces as well, which soon detected a friendly air force IFF tag. Radio chatter on the Gerudo side immediately began to register surprise as a friendly heavy transportation helicopter was detected making its way through the canyon, which slowly turned into confusion and outright suspicion as the IFF was discovered to be registered under Sirsa Military Airbase, which they knew had already fallen to Valentine forces. Alarmed, Zelda quickly looked at Link, who understood her unspoken statement and merely nodded before tapping a few buttons on the communications suite, connecting Zelda’s headset from the cockpit frequency – used for the pilot and co-pilot to communicate above the sounds of the helicopter – to the general emergency frequency open to practically all Gerudo units in the area. Completing this, Link nodded to Zelda, giving her the go-ahead to speak and expect for someone to actually hear what she was saying.

“To the Gerudo armed forces defending the area,” Zelda spoke clearly into the headset’s microphone, and Link was silently impressed at how regal and serenely authoritative she could sound even after going through nearly twenty-four hours of action, “this is Crown Princess Zelda of Hyrule. I am in one of your helicopters commandeered from Sirsa airbase, approaching from the canyons to your west. Please do not fire on us; we do not mean any harm. We have managed to escape the Valentine offensive on both of our nations, and I have come here seeking the help of Generalissimo Ganondorf and the Gerudo armed forces. As the sovereign of Hyrule, I hereby request a diplomatic escort to Garuda as soon as possible.”

For a moment, the communications channel was completely silent. No shouting or cries of an attempt at deceit. Zelda wondered exactly what was going on, whether the soldiers had been shocked into silence at the development, or if they were debating the likelihood of Hyrule’s crown princess on an approach helicopter. Still, she waited patiently even as Link, noting the lack of a response, held the helicopter in a holding position as he descended further into the canyon, hoping to be able to avoid any preemptive military action or friendly fire on Gerudo’s part.

Finally, just a few seconds over a full minute later, a new voice – its calm, educated-sounding voice hinted at the speaker being some sort of intelligence officer – came over both Link and Zelda’s headsets, her voice stern but reasonable. “Princess Zelda, this is Major Jessica. We need to do a voiceprint check to confirm your identity. This should not take more than three minutes. Please repeat these sentences after me…”

For a few seconds, Zelda listened and repeated a combination of seemingly random words strewn together into a grammatically correct sentence, speaking clearly even as she tried to keep her voice stable, knowing that there was the fear that – for whatever reason – whatever was doing voiceprint verification would erroneously report the results as negative and shooting down their chances for a safe extraction to Garuda. After being guided through three sentences, Zelda was promised that she would get a reply within two minutes, presumably so that Jessica could send Zelda’s voice recordings back to Garuda for immediate audio analysis. As Jessica left the radio, Zelda temporarily disconnected her headset from the system, taking a few seconds to gasp and breathe heavily, getting the shakes out of her system. Link watched in unmoving silence, but he was not at all unsympathetic; whether her day of suffering had been meaningful or meaningless ultimately rested on this one trivial moment of confirming whether or not she was truly who she was.

No more than two minutes later, Major Jessica returned to the communication channel; she sounded a bit stressed at the situation on hand, but very much relieved at the development. “My apologies for the confusion, your Highness,” she was quick to apologize when she addressed Zelda. “We needed to ensure this was not a Valentine trick. Your voiceprint checks out, and we are making your arrival the utmost priority. Please proceed on your current heading, your Highness; our anti-aircraft guns have instructions not to fire. We will give you landing clearance, provide you with anything you might need on the ground – food, medical attention, anything you need – and get you to Garuda as soon as possible.”

Even though Jessica obviously couldn’t see it, Zelda provided a tired smile anyways, something that reflected in the way she spoke even as her shoulders slumped and she visibly relaxed. “Thank you, major,” she managed to gratefully reply in a soft, almost breath-like voice before finally disconnecting her microphone from the channel.

As soon as she was sure no one was listening in, Zelda leaned back against her seat, looking as if she was close to tears of mirth as she tilted her head back and closed her eyes, expunging another shaky breath. Her hands, clasped together, were trembling. She looked like she was coming close to becoming a bit of an emotional wreck, yet, seconds later, she still managed to look at Link with clear, tired eyes and provided a small smile.

“We made it,” she whispered in relief.

Her voice didn’t completely make it over the headset to Link, so soft was her voice and so loud was the ambience, but Link, having been trained lightly in lip-reading, managed to figure out what she was saying anyways. He nodded as he angled the helicopter into its final approach vector, silently mouthing “we made it” in agreement even as Zelda closed her eyes once more and finally allowed the tears to slowly flow.

*****

Exoria File #005
Excerpt from Appendix A: Abridged Comprehensive Timeline, “Continental History: The Last 100 Years” (1507 First Edition)

“…1407 a.s.r. – The 1407 Hyrule City International Convention successfully votes on the international auxiliary language of the continent. While all nations and locales retain their own national languages or regional dialects, the official language used for international purposes is voted to be Interlingua, with two yea votes from Hyrule and Valent…

1449 a.s.r. – Dispute over territorial administration of the resource-rich Death Mountains leads to a terrorist attack that temporarily but severely cripples mining operations in the area. Productivity and economical welfare in all three nations plummet, leading to the Second Continental War, in which Hyrule, Gerudo, and Valent clash over available natural resources in the Death Mountains. The war ends six years later after no surrender from any of the belligerents with the Truce of Newberg, albeit with an indecisive Hylian victory, due to the allocation of nearly fifty percent of Death Mountain resource-rich territories to Hyrule. The Second Continental War is, to this day, the bloodiest war in continental history.

1456 a.s.r. – Dissatisfaction with post-Second Continental War administration and economic conditions in the poorer region of southern Gerudo reaches a climax, and opponents to the central government instigate the Second Southern Gerudo Civil War. International assistance allows the Gerudo central government to put down the revolt within a year…

1468 a.s.r. – Zoran rights activist Madonna is assassinated by human supremacist groups in Memphis, Hyrule, triggering the largest series of riots in the continent’s history. Public rioting, fighting, and lynching hits a peak in Bloody Friday, where more than one hundred and fifty people died in the violence, many more were injured, and damage up to one billion rupees were incurred. Zoran terrorism sees a dramatic rise. Madonna’s assassination brings more awareness to Zoran rights, and, by the end of the year, the Third Zoran Accord is signed, guaranteeing abridged Zoran civil rights and removing restrictions on territorial claims of Zoran natural reserves in all three nations…

1482 a.s.r. – Cybil Laboratories, located in Hampshire, Hyrule, finishes construction on the Large Hadron Collider. In response to worries from Gerudo and Valent as to potential Hylian exploitation of technologies from Cybil Laboratories, the Hampshire Treaty is signed in the same year to ensure that the international civilian laboratory does not receive any interference from any military-related agendas from any nation…

1490 a.s.r. – Ultranationalist faction in Valent led by General Alphonse initiates the Valentine Revolution, toppling the rule of King Adam III, presumably after years of protest against Valent’s weakening defense policy. After a three-day nationwide military campaign, forces loyal to King Adam III are defeated; Lord Tacitus, younger brother to King Adam III, is crowned king in the absence of General Alphonse, who was killed in action during the revolution…

1505 a.s.r. – King Robin II of Hyrule is critically injured in a car accident in Hyrule City, and is confined to medical care as he enters a coma; Princess Zelda, only daughter to the Hyrule royal family, takes on the title of crown princess and accepts duties as Hyrule’s sovereign at sixteen years of age…”

*****

Author’s Note: For those who have been bored enough to go back to the Prologue for a look, you will notice that something has been added to near the very top. This fic has now officially been dedicated to AuraNightgale, so do give her a round of applause and drinks if you ever manage to catch her.

This chapter, as promised, is a bit shorter than any of the previous ones. I had actually wanted to extend this storyarc a bit by forcing yet another crisis on them before they got to Garuda, but I decided against it; it would’ve been too forced, and revealed too much about the continental offensive being launched by Valent. So, my apologies, but you’ll have to look for your clues and spoilers elsewhere.

A serious thank you goes out to reader and reviewer The Pilot, who noticed a typo on my part when it came to numbering just how many Valentine soldiers were involved in the Hylian invasion effort. Instead of one hundred and thirty thousand, I accidentally wrote thirteen thousand instead. That one extra zero makes a great difference, and I’m quite glad the mistake was pointed quickly. This mistake has been swiftly rectified. Much thanks and kudos, The Pilot.

I’d like to take a moment to plead for current readers to please spread the word; tell your friends and fellow Zelda fans about Exoria, and get them to read it too, even if you must do it by forcing them to do so at the point of a Master Sword. I would be greatly appreciative if you do so; an author is only as good as the audience s/he attracts.

the prologue is really long but i liked it you put a lot of detail in your writing
and i like how you made link an agent it's different from other stories

love it write more and please tell me when a new chapter comes out

Originally Posted by Pandora21

the prologue is really long but i liked it you put a lot of detail in your writing
and i like how you made link an agent it's different from other stories

love it write more and please tell me when a new chapter comes out

Thank you kindly. I can't quite remember where making Link a JI agent comes from, but I certainly don't regret the decision. XD

Chapter Five will be out...soon. <_<

yays and i hope you don't regret it cause he never talks like in the games
(not really)

Chapter Five is up. You know the drill. X3

*****

Chapter Five

Link found out just how tired he was when he finally realized, his eyes fluttering behind his tinted sunglasses as he struggled to stay awake after being startled to awareness, that Major Jessica had actually gently shaken him twice before managing to elicit a conscious response out of him. Trying to open his eyes and suppress the dull ache in his head told him just how hard it was on him to wake up after only a few hours of sleep, having remained awake for a day. He was honestly surprised that he could actually fall sleep in the helicopter, but the rocking – the helicopter bobbing up and down like a cradle – might have helped. Still, he mentally chastised himself; it was poor form for him to fall asleep when they had yet to reach Garuda.

Shaking his head to clear out the drowsiness – it made him dizzier, but at least he was more awake now – his eyes darted around to survey his familiar surroundings. He was in the hold of a heavy transport helicopter, surrounded by sleek metal composing the frame of the aircraft, strapped into one of the seats in the back along with a sleeping Princess Zelda right beside him and a diplomatic escort composed of four Gerudo soldiers – excluding the pilot and co-pilot of the aircraft – who had been available. Epona was strapped down tightly to the floor of the hold, ensuring that it wouldn’t topple or slide should the helicopter have to make any sharp turns. It wasn’t the same helicopter that Link had flown into Gerudo lines, but a separate one with the Gerudo defending force that had been fully-fueled and ready; understandably, Major Jessica didn’t want another scare over IFF identification codes.

“Agent Link,” Jessica nodded in satisfaction now that Link was awake, her face stoic even as she leaned over his helicopter seat, one hand against the slanted walls of the helicopter to stabilize herself within the moving aircraft. Her voice was not extraordinarily loud, but it was enough to be heard about the roar of the helicopter. “Apologies for waking you. I just want to inform you that we’re in Garuda airspace now.”

Link nodded in understanding, and undid the straps on his seat while Jessica took a step back to allow the Joint Intelligence agent to rise undeterred. She was dressed in the white, almost cleric-like robes of the Gerudo MICO, or the Military Intelligence Coordination Office, the umbrella military intelligence organization of all of Gerudo’s armed forces. The white robes made her a somewhat conspicuous target when standing beside Gerudo soldiers dressed in the national colors of red and tan, but Link knew Jessica – along with the rest of her colleagues in MICO – wasn’t too worried, not when a position in the office effectively meant being placed behind a desk, collecting intelligence and reports, analyzing the information, then transmitting required data in real-time to all commanding officers in the field. Her hair tied back in a ponytail, she was also much shorter and had a lighter skin tone compared to the soldiers in the helicopter; it was understandable, considering MICO agents were primarily rear echelon officers, mostly confined indoors and out of the sun to desk jobs or command-and-control roles, positions that didn’t see much deployment in the field. With the princess Zelda now officially in Jessica’s charge – surviving senior military officers couldn’t be relieved from the frontlines to escort her back to the capital, not with the situation at the main line of resistance still extremely volatile – the major seemed to be taking her duties very seriously; despite her calm efficiency, it was clear to Link that she was stressed at having to watch over a very politically-sensitive package, even though they were flying over friendly territory. No one harbored any delusions as to who would or wouldn’t be blamed if something were to happen to Zelda under Jessica’s supervision.

Freeing himself of the harness that kept him safely in his seat, Link finally stood up and moved towards the cockpit, Jessica right behind him. Poking his head into the cockpit, he listened to the chatter between the pilots and air traffic control as code words and clearances were passed to and fro, looking out the window at Garuda. It wasn’t his first time here, but every time Link came to Garuda, he was always impressed by the one aspect that stood out to him about this city: It was enormous. The lights below the helicopter were few and in between as it flew over the outskirts of the capital, but even as the aircraft approached the center of the city, lights from all around seemed to gather together, and from Link’s perspective, nighttime Garuda – even deep through the day beyond midnight – looked like a galaxy, stars and pinpricks of light swirling around and eventually gathering in a swell of luminosity at its core. It was bright and dazzling, no signs of destruction anywhere. Unlike Hyrule City, the winds of war have yet to reach the Gerudo capital.

The buildings also increased in height as the distance to the city center decreased. Unlike Hyrule City, Garuda did not have much in the way of skyscrapers – massive buildings were not necessarily entirely practical in the desert climate – so the population was spread out across a large area instead of being relocated higher towards the skies. Still, as he flew over the outskirts, primarily formed by smaller, humble, single-story abodes and huts, he could see that the houses – residential or otherwise – were becoming larger and taller, until many of them were anywhere from ten to fifteen stories tall. Deeper into the city, as the buildings reached ten stories in height, was a ring-wall that surrounded the inner portion of the city, a massive congregation of metallic alloys that dominated many parts of the city, reaching to forty meters in height and ten meters in thickness, protecting the inner city from sandstorms and ground offenses. As the helicopter soared right above them, it came close enough for Link to spot what he always knew were there, dozens of turrets ranging from chain guns to cannons to artillery pieces to rocket launchers to missile tubes mounted on the defensive walls, capable of engaging any distant targets on land or in the air.

“Roger, ATC, clearance to land at Fort Garuda helipad west received,” the pilot said, presumably in response to the air traffic controller on the other end of his headset. “Routing codes check out. Naga-1 inbound.”

Fort Garuda, the center of Gerudo national authority, was not at all like Hyrule Palace, or even the entirety of Hyrule Castle. Although the Hylian palace and the Gerudo fort both towered over the local architecture, Fort Garuda clearly towered over the entire city, a feat that Hyrule Palace had not accomplished with the construction of corporate skyscrapers. It did not possess the tranquil beauty of the residence of the Hylian royal family, but Fort Garuda was not any less effective at attracting attention. Constructed from a mixture of reinforced concrete and hardened metallic battle armor, it resembled some strange combination of an enlarged bunker, a cathedral, and a ziggurat. The structure itself was sturdy enough to withstand all but the heaviest artillery attacks, and could withstand multiple direct hits from smart bombs. Occupying around three hundred acres in area – practically a kilometer long on all four of its square sides – Fort Garuda reached for the skies, ending its grasp at nearly one hundred meters from the surface. Like the fortress walls around inner Garuda, the fort was armed to the teeth with weapons. Even from kilometers away, Link could spot massive cannons and artillery pieces implanted deeply into its armor, most of which were capable of being withdrawn back into the fortress’ metallic shell. Furthermore, although Link could only see some of the tanks around it, he knew from his Joint Intelligence briefings that Fort Garuda was heavily guarded by at least two army battalions at any given time.

With its combined firepower, there was little doubt as to what Garuda was: A fortress city.

“The generalissimo is aware of Princess Zelda’s arrival,” Jessica assured Link from behind him, “and would like me to inform you that he will be receiving her personally.”

The Hylian agent nodded at the news. The helicopter circled Fort Garuda once, preparing an entry vector onto the west helipad of the fort; it was one of three that stood out from an aerial view, pronouncing the building’s multi-tiered design. Link did not stay to watch the view even as he returned to the passenger hold, Jessica making way for him, and stopped right beside the sleeping form of Zelda. She had managed to wash up just a bit after Link landed their helicopter behind Gerudo lines in a small town that the Gerudo military had transformed into a temporary command post – they spent an hour there preparing for Zelda’s immediate departure for Geruda – but she certainly still looked like a princess who had spent the last day running for her life. Link wondered if Zelda really would like to meet the generalissimo like this as head of state…but figured there was no choice in the matter. Gently, he rocked the princess’ shoulder, slowly shaking her to consciousness.

Zelda slowly roused as she made a small moaning sound, her eyelashes fluttering in an attempt to fully open them. She looked around, trying to orientate herself, figure out where she was, then returned her attention to Link and Jessica, both standing solemnly in front of her. “Are we near Garuda?” she asked drowsily in a voice that sounded distinctly like a mumble.

“We’re already over Fort Garuda, your Highness,” Jessica answered formally with a slight bow in the presence of foreign royalty. “The pilot is conducting final landing procedures. The generalissimo will be receiving you personally.”

Nodding sleepily, Zelda rubbed her eyes weakly in the attempt to shake herself from the grasp of drowsiness; Link surmised that she either did not care much for appearance right at this very moment…or was too tired to actually connect the dots.

Noting that Link’s gaze seemed to flicker every now and then to Epona – the motorcycle that managed to bring them half the way here in one piece – Jessica made sure that she addressed his concerns directly. “Your vehicle will be delivered straight to the garage in the fort, agent,” she reassured Link. “If necessary, our technicians – with your permission, of course – can conduct repairs on it.”

Link nodded and wondered if he wanted to take up on the offer. After all, aside from scratches here and there from ricocheting bullets, Epona was fine…and giving the technicians a chance to repair the motorcycle might also be giving them a chance to see what makes her tick. Link wasn’t sure he wanted to disclose this kind of military technology, even to an ally like Gerudo…at least, not without authorization from someone with greater authority.

The fact that the helicopter was no longer twirling, combined with the sinking feeling in Link’s stomach, told him that the helicopter was landing on the helipad. This was confirmed as he felt a bump below him that resonated through the aircraft, a clear indication that the landing gears had safely touched down on the helipad. The whine of the spinning rotors also died down, the pilot powering down the aircraft so that the entourage wouldn’t be stepping out into a miniature hurricane generated by the massive rotor. Immediately, the Gerudo soldiers sitting in the hold with them stood up in unison, looking to Princess Zelda for a cue. She merely rose from where she sat after unfastening the safety harness by herself and stood in front of the helicopter’s rear hatch, waiting for it to open. Link immediately stood to her side one step behind, Jessica took the other side two steps to the rear, while the Gerudo soldiers formed a perfect square around them. Judging by Zelda’s lack of interest at this formality – lack of reaction, as a matter of fact – Link guessed the princess had probably gone through such protocol many times before on her diplomatic trips to Gerudo.

A green light lit up beside the hatch, and the platform lowered itself onto the ground, providing a ramp from the helicopter to the helipad. In perfect tandem, the entourage of seven stepped out of the aircraft, and it was then that Link suddenly noticed that Zelda no longer seemed sleepy or tired. Instead, her posture was completely erect even as she walked down the steps of the ramp. Despite the fact that her hair was frizzled and her dress a bit of a mess, she still managed to seem as regal and dignified as any Hylian royal should be, a princess with her escort about to meet the head of state of another nation. Her eyes were not clouded, but clear and alert. The transformation had been instant and complete, and Link realized that, not for the first time, he had underestimated Zelda’s willpower and resilience.

Although it was night, the helipad lights were bright enough to provide the area with sufficient illumination. As Zelda stepped off the helicopter, flanked immediately by Link, they saw before them an assembly of Gerudo soldiers lined on both sides, creating a road from the helipad to the interior of Fort Garuda, and, as soon as the princess made her first step onto the helipad proper, they immediately snapped to attention with a smart salute with coordination worthy of a parade ground. They were all female – not at all surprising in Gerudo – and they were dressed in a neat mixture of black-and-red ceremonial uniforms and the tan-and-red combat fatigues of their nation, matching well with their tan complexion.

By no means was the reception restricted to Gerudo soldiers. Frantic movement right in front of Link and Zelda attracted their attention, and the princess had little time to react when she suddenly found herself in the arms of her chief of staff, who had been standing at the fortress end of the helipad but made her way forward as soon as her eyes saw for true that Zelda was alive, well, and had safely made it to Garuda. The sweeping sense of relief had completely thrown formality out the window, and Impa found herself shaking even as she wrapped what seemed to be a blanket around Zelda, keeping her warm in the cool desert night. With a slightly embarrassed but equally relieved smile, the princess, despite the stoic onlookers, managed to return that embrace. It was clear that Impa had not expected to see Zelda again.

Behind Impa, Leonore, unlike the princess’ chief of staff, managed a calm walk as opposed to Impa’s brisk jog, but her expression, too, betrayed subtle shock that cast strange lines, curves, and shadows in ways that were alien to her features; one did not take the DJI by surprise very often. Instead of looking upon Zelda, however, Leonore first settled her line of sight on Link as she stared at him with an expression Link could not read – what was it, disbelief mixed in with bewilderment mixed in with concern mixed in with paranoia mixed in with relief? He honestly wasn’t sure. He could never tell with Leonore, who refused to take her eyes off him for several seconds…until she suddenly dropped that expression and smoothly transitioned to a tired smile, nodded in a manner that almost seemed like a silent way of conveying approval and admiration.

Link returned that nod in a likewise manner. Compliments were difficult to earn from the fourth director of Joint Intelligence…which was why Link accept every sign Leonore would offer him.

While Leonore respected a polite distance between herself and an emotional moment between Zelda and Impa, she was soon joined to the side by a figure, someone Link had seen many times on photographs before, but never actually met in person.

Generalissimo Ganondorf was easily the largest and tallest individual standing on the helipad. A dark-skinned, well-built man, he easily could easily dominate any crowd with his natural size, and yet it was not only his height and build that allowed him to stood out, but a dignity that rivaled Zelda’s own even as he patiently waited for the princess with a serious, expressionless face. His flaming red hair was pulled back by a traditional metallic Gerudo headband, and his eyebrows and beard were quite thick and rich. It was clear that, although the generalissimo was well into his fifties, his physical prowess and fitness still rivaled his considerable intellect; his black-and-red ceremonial full dress uniform, complete with stripes, epaulettes, and cape, was devoid of medals or campaign ribbons, but complemented with a set of ceremonial battle armor – constructed from high-quality metal and leather – across the chest and the hips. Link could only imagine the discomfort of wearing that around…and carrying a large ceremonial broadsword on a sash by his side.

Then, again, knowing his briefing files on Ganondorf and the military exploits he had personally led in the past, Link wondered just how “ceremonial” the generalissimo’s sword was…and how deadly it would be if he decided to use it with lethal intent.

It was only after Zelda finally detached herself from Impa that Ganondorf stepped forward to the Hylian delegation, his demeanor regal and proper. Seeing the approaching generalissimo, Zelda took one step forward to meet the leader of Gerudo. “Generalissimo,” she greeted him courteously, even as she extended a gloved hand to the imposing man. Per tradition, he gently took the delicate hand and raised it to his lips as a means of courteous greeting.

“Princess Zelda,” Ganondorf’s voice was appropriately deep, but soothing and smooth, and he bowing his head in a gesture of goodwill. “Welcome back to Garuda. I am profoundly relieved to see that you are alive and unharmed, and embarrassed that I had nothing to do with your safe arrival.”

Zelda shook her hand as she retracted her hand. “Please don’t be. I am aware of the destruction that has also fallen upon your nation; I’m grateful that you have come to receive me personally when you must be preoccupied as commander-in-chief of the Gerudo armies.”

“Then you will have to excuse the haste in which I must arrange for your stay, your Highness. I’m afraid the dilemma at hand still requires much attention. Valentine forces have momentarily lost their momentum, and I want to put efforts into placing down a strong defense to prevent further penetration. I hope you can understand the situation.”

“Of course, generalissimo,” Zelda responded with a courteous nod. “Please do what you must, and attend to pressing matters first, although I must ask that I am let in-the-know on the current state of the war…” she allowed a pause to draw out for the purpose of emphasis before finishing, “…both in Gerudo and Hyrule.”

“Naturally,” Ganondorf reassured her with a slight bow of the head, then turned his attention to Jessica, who still stood dutifully behind and away from attention as the official representative of MICO in this delegation. “Major, escort her Highness to the state guestroom, and send for a doctor immediately. Make sure her needs are attended to. I’ll leave responsibility of the princess to you.”

Again, Link noticed that Jessica put effort into remaining stoic and expressionless. “Yes, generalissimo,” she responded with a sharp salute, and stepped close to the princess’ side. Link wondered at possible reservations or dissatisfaction that might be plaguing the intelligence major, although he was not quite able to come to a satisfactory conclusion as to what Jessica might be hiding. He looked at Leonore – who Link knew was better at reading people than he – for a sign, hoping that any expression she might have adopted may help shed some light on Jessica’s motive, but, unfortunately, Leonore seemed oblivious…or merely pretended not to notice. Link somehow felt the latter was more likely.

In the meantime, Ganondorf politely gestured towards the helipad entrance to Fort Garuda. “Please, princess,” he stepped aside, allowing Zelda and her Hylian subordinates to move forward first before falling into stride with the princess, the full armed escort following suit one step later.

“What’s the situation at the front so far?” asked Zelda as they moved towards the fort entrance, making sure that Ganondorf was keeping in stride and within earshot.

Ganondorf was blunt and honest with his answer. “Not good. Our defensive forces stationed at the border provinces were inadequate in stopping the Valentine offensive, and enemy forces have made significant progress in their invasion. The majority of our defensive forces suffered heavy casualties. One day of fighting gave us enough time to recall and prepare all our military forces – those on standby as well as the reserve army, plus the border guard and anyone we can spare in the law enforcement agencies – in our current attempt to hold the line and establish fortifications, but we still require another day or two to properly mobilize and deploy all forces across the nation for a coordinated strategic defense, never mind a counteroffensive.”

Zelda understood Ganondorf’s difficulties; although he was generalissimo, commander-in-chief of all Gerudo military forces, the Gerudo Union was, in fact, a tight alliance of various states and provinces under different civil leaderships…leaderships that had a degree of autonomous powers. Despite their overwhelming military power, Gerudo did not excel in rapid deployment of their military assets; national coordination has always been a weak point of their armed forces.

“I have, unfortunately, not been actively communicating and coordinating with Hylian forces,” Ganondorf admitted as he moved onto what he knew of the Hylian side of this war. “They have initiated communications on a handful of occasions, but electronic interference has been heavy. It appears that enemy penetration has gone deeper into Hyrule than it has Gerudo. I know not the status of your army – although I fear there may not be any good news to bear in that department – but I have received word that the esteemed Hylian navy has barely managed to achieve parity in the north.”

That was one piece of good news in a sea of disaster, pun not intended. “Anything that can shed light on the strategic goal of the enemy?” Zelda inquired. “I’m assuming you’ve found the Valentine strategy baffling.”

“Baffling in that they seem to be ignoring all long-term strategic advantages in favor of complete wanton destruction, yes,” the generalissimo concurred. “We have no clue of what Valent is after, although our forces have managed to capture a small handful of Valentine prisoners of war that we’re transporting back here for immediate intensive interrogation right now.” He took a deep breath. “Based on on-site preliminary analysis from MICO field liaisons, though, we have little reason to be optimistic where gaining vital information from them is concerned.”

Nodding, Zelda noted that they finally passed through the archway, stepping past the barrier between fortress interior and the helipad. Whereas the design for Hyrule Palace was based on the concept of ethereal tranquility, Fort Garuda seemed to pursue elegant antiquity. The hardened and harsh exterior masked the tradition kept inside the building housing the executive center of Gerudo; candles were favored over electric in many places, and the walls was adorned with elegant ornaments and designs in a style that seemed to have been kept in place since the previous century. One could live in relative comfort here, and Zelda was certain Generalissimo Ganondorf did.

“Now, if you will please excuse me, your Highness,” Ganondorf made a bow as he prepared to leave with his own private escort, presumably to his control center where he would be able to continue to oversee and coordinate nationwide military efforts, “this is where I must take my leave.” He gestured to Jessica, who nodded smartly behind Zelda. “Major Jessica will take care of your needs.”

“Thank you for your hospitality, generalissimo,” Zelda permitted herself her own half-bow, the inclination of her head conveying gratitude. “Please keep me informed of any developments, generalissimo, regardless of the hour.”

A touch of concern, barely noticeable by those who have yet to learn the finer details of hiding one’s emotions in a political poker game, graced upon Ganondorf’s hard features for a moment as he turned to face Zelda. “With respect, your Highness, you have just been through a very rough experience, escaping from the clutches of the enemy in Hyrule City, escaping from the clutches of the enemy in Hyrule City. Would it not be safer to rest first? A ruler cannot lead by willpower alone.”

For all the chivalry Ganondorf could’ve intended to be in that sentence, Zelda felt as though the last remark had somehow struck the wrong chords within her, and she couldn’t help but respond with a polite but ultimately thin smile. She did not like any indicator, real or imagined, that she needed to be taught how to be a leader or run her country. “I assure you that I’m quite fine,” Zelda voice was still kind and formal, but a strange tone to it made Link highly alert and concerned of his princess’ mood. “I’ve been uninjured, and have had enough time to rest. I will, of course, accept your generous offer of a doctor, but I intend to act in full capacity as soon as possible.”

Subtly, the flicker of concern was gone, replaced by the reputed calm and neutral expression Ganondorf was known for. “Of course, your Highness,” he gave another bow, to excuse both possible impudence and give himself leave to attend to military matters. With the formalities over, Ganondorf briskly turned around, his cape swirling around him once as he completed a one hundred eighty degree turn, and marched off with two accompanying soldiers towards another wing of the fort.

With the generalissimo gone, Jessica swiftly stepped forward – her motions swift and abrupt to break the awkward moment between two leaders that severely outranked her – taking center stage as she gestured towards another wing with a subdued sweeping motion of her arm. “Your Highness,” she spoke softly, politely, expressionlessly, “your room is this way. If you would please follow me.” Zelda offered a brief nod and a small smile to Jessica, following the MICO major even as she herself was followed by Link, Impa, and Leonore. Two armed Gerudo soldiers swiftly brought up the rear.

Walking through the spacious, well-lit hallways, Zelda turned her head slightly, allowing Leonore to meet her gaze. “Director Leonore,” the princess spoke soothingly, perhaps the first time she had used a generous voice towards the head of Joint Intelligence, and a small smile drew itself across pale lips, “thank you for bringing Impa safely to Garuda. I wouldn’t know what I would do without my chief of staff.”

Behind Leonore, Impa stifled a smile; Leonore offered a tired chuckle instead. “Think nothing of it, your Highness. I’d hardly take credit for bravery and valor; being caught along with her by a massive invasion army was a pretty good incentive to move quickly.”

Smiling in earnest, Zelda added another question that had been tugging at her. “How did you get here?” She had thought that, with the speed they had been traveling at, they would’ve reached Garuda first.

It was Impa who responded in Leonore’s place, her voice thick with satisfaction. “Leonore managed to hijack a Valentine humvee, and we managed to get out of the city relatively undeterred.”

Raised eyebrows and a glance towards Link were the only indicators that foretold Leonore’s turn to speak. “Judging by the fireworks on the other side of the city – undoubtedly caused by a young Joint Intelligence agent who shall go unnamed – I guess we have you to thank for diverting the enemy’s attention.” She sounded greatly amused, and Link suppressed what would’ve otherwise been an annoyed grimace as he struggled against an urge to look pointedly away and remain stoic. He wasn’t sure if Leonore was poking fun at him or not…nor was he sure he particularly like that feeling, being teased like a child by one’s superior.

“We kept going southeast until we ran into Gerudo forces fighting just past the border,” Impa finished, oblivious to Link’s discomfort. “They managed to bring us here with an airlift with all due haste earlier this afternoon. Just by looking at you, I’m guessing your journey was far more adventurous.”

Managing a smile mixed in with both fatigue and awkwardness, Zelda quipped, “Like you wouldn’t believe.” Again, Link, listening in to the conversation, fought down the urge to make a face.

There were a few grand staircases that the entourage had to navigate before they finally reached the elevators somewhere that seemed deeper within Fort Garuda. Security details seemed lighter than Zelda remembered them; most soldiers that could be spared were probably already redeployed to the front, after all. For their lack of numbers, though, the princess noted that they were most certainly more heavily armed. Submachine guns were replaced by assault rifles, patrols seemed more vigilant, and they were also carrying grenades.

“We seem to be headed deeper for the mid-levels, major,” Zelda noted to the Jessica, having taken notice of their ascent up various staircases and the increasing lack of windows or openings to the outside world. The group stepped into an elevator that seemed to be as large as the car of a cargo elevator, and, after Jessica pressed the up button, the doors closed and the elevator car began to climb.

“Yes, your Highness,” Jessica confirmed with a formal nod, making sure her head was politely turned towards the princess even as she waited for the elevator to reach its proper destination. “It’s where all the fort diplomatic residences are, along with the generalissimo’s quarters. It’s further away from ground level, so it puts some distance between the suites and a potential ground attack. Not so high, however, that it’s vulnerable to air strikes and missile attacks, should they manage to penetrate our anti-air defenses. The entire area is heavily armored and can withstand a direct hit from an artillery barrage or a missile strike. It falls under three overlapping security sections, and has direct access to elevators that bring VIPs directly to the command and control bunker situated deep underground, should it become necessary.”

The princess smiled as the elevator made a pleasant chiming sound as a prelude to the opening of the metallic, ornate double doors. “Sounds very impressive.”

Jessica nodded impassively, stiffly, guided the entourage out of the elevator after the door fully opened. “We do our best to ensure the safety of our dignitaries, your Highness.”

“Then I assure you that I’m feeling relieved already,” Zelda replied kindly, following in stride two steps behind. Taking note of his princess’ tone, Link wondered if Zelda had noticed that Jessica was trying hard to be formal and impassive, and was reacting to it…and suddenly realized that Jessica might not be unenthusiastic or indignant as much as she was nervous and uncertain of having to deal with a foreign sovereign. Majors in military intelligence, after all, generally did not often deal with highly-ranked officials outside their own communities. Understandable, of course, considering just how short-staffed Gerudo probably was at the moment.

The hallways here were notably smaller but more ornate, and radiated a homely charm despite its relatively dim lighting. Its architecture resembled the palaces of old, complete with stone walls and fanciful engravings. If there was any further doubt that this was the diplomatic suites area, they were soon dispelled as, some length down the corridor and a single turn later, Major Jessica opened a set of double doors – the Gerudo soldiers took posts on both sides of the hallway and stood guard – revealing a rather elegant, spacious bedroom inside that was not at all unlike a hotel suite. The parlor of the suite was large enough to hold a small staff meeting in considerable comfort and was stocked full with amenities, and Zelda had no doubt that the connecting bedroom would be any less impressive. It wasn’t quite was grandiose as the luxurious, stylish suites in Hyrule Palace, but it certainly made the princess feel almost as if she had stepped into someone’s home.

“Please rest here for now, your Highness,” Jessica allowed for Zelda, Impa, and Leonore to step through even as she and Link held open the double doors for her in perfect flanking tandem. “I shall return with a doctor shortly. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask any member of staff here.”

Again, Zelda gently and graciously smiled. “Thank you, major,” she conveyed her gratitude, and Jessica responded with a dutiful nod before stepping away, undoubtedly to escort the doctor up to the quarters.

Link looked back out to the hallway; now that the princess was safely in her room, the escorting soldiers were replaced with actual armed patrols that seemed to be part of the detail formally responsible for security on the floor. They took rounds across the area instead of standing immediate guard, and their formation seemed a bit loose, but the soldiers here also wore heavier body armor and bore what seemed to be heavier assault rifles. They obviously took local security quite seriously.

With a fleeting glance that made sure his three superiors were properly situated in the room, Link prepared to close the double doors and stand guard outside himself, but he had just closed the first door and had the second halfway shut when a gentle hand placed itself on the frame, and Link immediately stopped in slight surprise as Zelda stood at the door, looking out at him. “It’s alright, Link,” she nodded quietly, gesturing for Link to enter. “Please come in.”

That was a rather surprising move, Link conceded; he had only lately become used to giving the princess her personal space, especially when it came to her study and private quarters – habits of ensuring a VIP’s safety had been engrained into his head and were hard to shake, something that he knew annoyed Zelda. Now that he had managed to adapt to her tendencies and preferences, though, being invited in was a somewhat strange sensation. Regardless, he nodded obediently, and stepped through the gap in the door before closing and locking it behind him. With no further orders, he stood at the door while folding his hands behind his back, standing at attention.

Zelda, meanwhile, sat herself down on one of the living room couches, exhaling a sigh as she finally rested herself on something soft. She noted with some amusement the disapproval on Impa’s gaze, a gaze that Zelda followed to the hems, edges, and corners of her dress, which had been stained, dirtied, and damaged across a day of riding on motorcycles and helicopters. Still, she swiftly pushed it to the back of her mind; concern should not be placed on how Zelda was dressed right now. “What is that status of the Hylian defense right now?” she came straight to the point as Impa and Leonore followed her, still remaining standing.

Impa pursed her lips before speaking. “Your Highness, Ganondorf has a point; these matters can wait after you’ve seen a doctor and get some rest…”

“Impa,” Zelda was clearly impatient as she interrupted her chief of staff scornfully with a frown, “I don’t intend to sit by and watch Valent tear Hyrule apart. These first few days are the most crucial. I intend to make as much of it as possible, especially since I’ve already been delayed by a day.”

Zelda had barely finished, however, when she noticed that Impa was not actually looking at her. Rather, although Impa’s head was turned towards Zelda, her eyes looked discreetly in the direction of Leonore. The princess followed that gaze, and as soon as Zelda and Leonore locked stares, Leonore silently mouthed four words: “The walls have ears.”

Being lip-readers, both Zelda and the further-away Link understood immediately what Leonore was talking about. It was naïve to think that nations would unconditionally put honor before reason, and they were both well aware that the guestrooms have a chance of being bugged in consideration for a possible edge in the international game of espionage. Leonore must’ve already confirmed their presence…or at least had very strong suspicions. Although Zelda herself did not know it, the guestrooms in Hyrule Palace were equipped with the same kind of bugging and recording equipment, a legacy left to the royal family by Leonore’s Joint Intelligence director predecessor.

For now, though, the message was clear: No sensitive information was to be spoken of. No codes, no protocols, no classified intelligence. They would go along, pretend that they didn’t know the devices were there, pretend that they didn’t know better.

Taking a breath, Impa pretended to be frustrated member of staff regretfully relenting to Zelda’s adamant demands. “Very well, your Highness,” she breathed heavily voice, turned to the other woman in the room. “Leonore?”

Leonore’s expression and voice was appropriately grim; she did not exaggerate her mood for the sake of possible secret surveillance, nor did she need to. “We’re looking at a disaster so far, your Highness,” her voice was tight and controlled, knowing just how bad this update was. “The Hylian military – what’s left of it – has been completely mobilized, but without central command at the Haven, we’re looking at patches of undefended regions, general confusion. So far, from what we’ve been able to find out in Garuda, Rear Admiral Chester on the HRS Astraea is the highest-ranking officer attempting to circumvent the Haven’s command system and reroute the national chain of command to his vessel, but…” Leonore sighed, rubbed the bridge of her nose in a clear sign of fatigue and frustration. “Everything has become a total mess, your Highness. Chester’s not the only officer attempting to establish national command, and I don’t think these various commanding officers are even aware of each other trying to do the same thing.”

Her expression appropriately grim, Zelda asked, “Any chance we can contact them?”

“Communications have been substandard at best. The enemy has been using electromagnetic interference to their advantage very heavily.”

“We’ve been lent a communications suite by the generalissimo,” Impa added. “People drop on and off the radio every now and then, never staying on for any extended periods of time.”

Looking at Impa for a moment, Leonore almost seemed to look as if she was seeking the unspoken opinion of a second party, but when Impa did not pick up the sign and give Leonore and real sign of support, the intelligence director merely pursed her lips and spoke in a tight, quiet voice. “Your Highness,” her tone was deliberately devoid of emphasis, “we need to talk very seriously about the possibility of a traitor.”

Her eyes widening for just a moment before tightening into a clear frown, Zelda remained silent even as she turned her attention squarely to Leonore. She was not entirely surprised to learn of this – Zelda had recognized the possibility was not at all a small one – but now that Leonore was mentioning it herself, it began to seem like a substantial problem…one she was not at all eager to have to deal with.

Seeing that Zelda was waiting for her to continue, Leonore went on with her explanation. “As far as I can make out, Valentine wartime intelligence has been extraordinary on the Hylian front. They’re hitting fast, hard, and accurately. As far as I can make out from battle reports on both sides, they seem to know exactly where our forces are and how they’re deployed.”

“It also explains how they managed to sneak up on the capital that quickly and effectively,” Impa added swiftly, “and why Hylian resistance has been so difficult to mount. Valent is destroying resisting forces before they can even become a threat, and they’re doing a very good job at it.”

“It’s only been the first day of fighting, yet our forces have been very seriously battered. This goes beyond wartime intelligence; the enemy is capable of tracking our forces in real-time, your Highness. And it’s no coincidence that Gerudo forces have been holding out better than our own. Someone in a position of knowing exactly how our military forces are deployed may very well be feeding vital intelligence to Valent.”

Zelda’s expression turned even harder than before. “You suspect Admiral Francis.” It was difficult to tell whether or not she actually approved of this line of thought, but it was clear that she did not like what she was hearing.

An effort to adopt a neutral expression was clear on Leonore’s face as she betrayed signs of inner conflict with her judgment. “Admiral Francis is in a position of suspicion, yes,” she spoke slowly with obvious hesitation, “but I wouldn’t be able to condemn him with any real conviction. He has…unique circumstances that make him a prime suspect, yes, but there’s no real proof that he’s done anything in particular.”

That argument was not good enough for Zelda, not with what was at stake. “But what you’re saying is,” she mimicked Leonore’s tone and pacing, “without rooting out the mole – or moles – in our ranks, any attempt we make at commanding the Hylian army may be sabotaged by their ability to track our every move.”

Leonore’s sober, regretful response was preceded only by a deep sigh. “That’s an accurate summary, your Highness,” she allowed.

What essentially comprised of Hylian high command in this room exchanged very difficult looks as they tried to assess the situational odds – clearly one that was stacked against them – before them. Options began to run through their collective thoughts, but there wasn’t a solution that surfaced, not one that could immediately deal with just how terrible their situation was, however. Zelda hated that feeling of complete helplessness; she needed to do something, even if there was no clear and immediate solution, and yet the fates seemed to be conspiring against her.

“Do what you can about finding the mole, Leonore,” the princess finally spoke evenly, firmly, keeping her temperament under control as she gave her orders. “Impa, I want you to keep trying to reach any Hylian forces you can. I want to be able to coordinate them and let them know I am safe. In the meantime, I will need to see how willing the generalissimo is in terms of allowing joint command of the counteroffensive. If we cannot command the Hylian military as we wish right now, we will have to depend on Gerudo.”

“Yes, your Highness,” the royal chief of staff and the director of Joint Intelligence responded in unison.

Zelda lowered her head with a barely audible sigh, and, for a moment, her own royal mask faltered for a moment, exposing just a flicker of vulnerability…but she soon had it under control as she turned to her retainers once more. “Do we have any word on my father?” she asked; her voice, though strong, betrayed just a bit of a waver.

Noting that moment of weakness, Impa and Leonore exchanged a glance, silently deciding who was to break the news. After a moment, it was Leonore who spoke. “No, your Highness. The last time we’ve heard of him was back in Hyrule City. Nothing else so far.”

Nodding, Zelda quietly pursed her lips as her gaze lowered again in that same motion. The pressure, worry, and anxiety must’ve felt overwhelming as she clasped her hands on her lap, tightening them once as she fought for control over her emotions. “They may be going dark,” she spoke in a controlled voice, forcing all the weakness out of her voice as she did so. “They might be aware that Valentine forces are tracking them, and imposed radio silence.”

Leonore could only nod. “It’s possible, your Highness.”

Once again, the room lapsed into contemplative and considerate silence as the three non-royals carefully averted their gaze from the princess, not wishing to seem imposing during a private moment of vulnerability. This, however, last for only several seconds; the quiet was interrupted by the three successive knocks on the double doors, followed by the familiar voice of Jessica on the other side. “Princess Zelda? The doctor is here.”

With an affirmative nod from Zelda, who immediately gathered herself together once more and donned the mask of an unshakeable princess, Link unlocked the double doors, opening it even and standing at the opening, acting as a shield for the occupants inside just in case the people outside were not who they were supposed to be. Thankfully, the precaution was unnecessary; stoic Jessica was standing right outside, and Link could see the doctor over her shoulder. Amusingly enough, the doctor had a skin tone that was slightly darker than that of the MICO major’s. He stepped aside as Jessica mimicked the movement, and the doctor stepped into the room. Jessica, however, did not follow, opting to remain outside the room.

“Your Highness,” the doctor introduced herself, giving a bit of a curtsy as she did, “I’m Doctor Taylor. I’m just going to perform a quick check-up on you, make sure you’re in good health and won’t be in danger of collapsing from fatigue anytime soon. I am told the day has been very rough on you.” There was something about her that conveyed that she was a woman who meant business, and took things very directly.

Smiling, Zelda invited the doctor to come closer with a subdued gesture as she stood in polite greeting. “I believe myself to be fine, but I feel reassured in your care.”

“You’re too generous,” Taylor spoke blandly while approaching with her medical bag; here was a woman who cared little for anything outside the medical well-being of others. “If you do not mind, your Highness, I must note that this might be more efficient – and easier on both of us – if you were to partially disrobe.” She immediately shot a look at Link, clearly an indicator that he should be leaving the room now.

Link himself looked at Zelda for permission first, who gave her approval for him to leave the room. “It’s fine, Link,” she reassured him, then turned her attention to her chief of staff. “Impa, as we’ve discussed, please try to contact Hylian forces, and inform me the moment you establish a clear line of communication.”

Impa bowed out before headed for the doorway, and Leonore seemed to be prepared to do the same. “Yes, your Highness. My room is the first door on the right, should you need me for anything.”

While Leonore prepared to join Link and Impa out the door, however, a call from Zelda stopped the director in her tracks. “Leonore,” the princess asked in a move that drew curious stares from the Hylians present, “could you please stay behind?”

Leonore seemed subtly surprised – her interactions with the princess had not given her the impression that Zelda was particularly fond of dealing with Hyrule’s fourth DJI – but she politely turned around and nodded nonetheless as she was privately kept behind. “Of course,” she replied and returned to Zelda’s side. She gave Impa and unreadable glance, but whether or not Impa picked up on it was not certain; the chief of staff merely nodded at the development, and, with Link, walked out the double doors.

Being the last one standing at the door after Link and Impa disappeared into the hallway, Jessica prepared to leave even as she reminded Zelda of the services available to her. “Being tasked with your security and well-being, I will be in the immediate vicinity if you need me, your Highness,” she spoke clearly and dispassionately, as she always seemed to do.

“Thank you, major,” Zelda thanked Jessica before the major disappeared behind the set of doors she closed.

Under the expectant looks of Doctor Taylor, Zelda swiftly made her way into the connecting bedroom even as Leonore and Taylor patiently waited for her in the other room. While she kept the door open so that she may speak to Leonore, she stood in the room at an angle to the doorway where neither woman in the living room could see her.

Both Leonore and Taylor had seated themselves in the living room when Zelda called out to the former. “Please tell me more about Agent Link.”

Something about Leonore’s expression betrayed unwelcome surprise as she pressed her lips into a thin line, her brows tightened into what could’ve either been a frown of confusion or disapproval. “What would you like to know about him, your Highness?” she asked, keeping her voice level and emotionless.

Without actually seeing Leonore’s expression, Zelda was not actually able to detect anything strange from Leonore’s controlled voice. “Where he comes from might be a good start.”

Leonore spared a glance at Taylor, who seemed to be busier than necessary with her medical bag. Chances were that she was tuned sharply into this conversation, but was otherwise pretending not to. The director wasn’t surprised; the extended time Jessica took bringing Taylor here probably also included instructions to report back on any details she might notice while treating Zelda. Friends, after all, were not permanent in the political game; only interests were. Leonore would’ve instructed any of her agents to do the same thing had the situation been reversed…probably. “Are you aware of the Spencer Welfare Program?” she asked, deciding it didn’t really matter whether or not Taylor was here.

It took only a moment for Zelda to recall the details. “It was a program initiated by my great-grandfather after Hyrule successfully claimed the ore rich regions of the Death Mountains. With an extra surplus in funds from the ore and a stronger economy from the war, he enacted the welfare program to provide government support to orphans who lost a parent or both parents in the war. The country paid for the living expenses and educational costs for these orphans, the curriculum specifically targeting civil service subjects such as political science, economics…all depending on the child. It came with the understanding that the child would work for any organ in the government after their education. As the economy strengthened, my grandfather expanded the criteria, and any orphan of Hylian citizenship became eligible as well.”

Conceding that it was a good description of the program in general, Leonore decided to elaborate further. “One of the changes that we don’t exactly advertise, your Highness, is that Joint Intelligence also has a hand in the program. We’re legally permitted to keep track of the children and select candidates that show signs of exceptional talent, then provide them with the training that would eventually have them fall under the employ of Joint Intelligence when they are at a legal age for employment.”

Zelda finally emerged from the bedroom, dressed in an elegant-looking Gerudo-styled nightgown, her hair undone and loose, hanging down to her torso. It was still frizzled from the motorcycle ride, and it was clear Zelda was in need of a bath or shower. Even as she sat down beside Doctor Taylor, she provided a frown that clearly showed she was not familiar with this aspect of the program. “Does this include combat training?” she echoed.

“Yes, your Highness.”

With her attention focused on Leonore, Zelda was vaguely aware that Taylor had rolled up the princess’ sleeve, pressing the index and middle fingers against Zelda’s veins, a basic Gerudo traditional medicine technique that was supposed to detect the inner strength and vitality of a patient. “I was aware that we were not permitted to provide actual combat training to these orphans until they were eighteen and eligible for military service,” Zelda noted.

“Yes, your Highness, military service,” Leonore specified, her voice carefully neutral, knowing her sovereign was not going to like the answer in particular. “It’s a restriction set for the armed forces. Frankly, we’re not the military. Joint Intelligence has a free hand in this.”

It was clear – if not by facial expression then by tone – that Zelda did not approve of this at all. “Who signed off on this?” she demanded impatiently as Taylor reached into her medical bag, pulled out a small low-intensity flashlight.

“Your father,” Leonore answered pointedly. “Just short of a decade ago.”

Zelda was not impressed with the answer, but any reply she could’ve mounted was cut short as Taylor said, “Princess, please do not move and keep your eyes open.” Zelda obeyed as the doctor shone the dim light into her eyes for a quick examination. Inwardly, the Hylian royal reminded herself that, if memory served, the decision to allow Joint Intelligence to take advantage of the Spencer Welfare Program would’ve been made at roughly the same time as Leonore being appointed as the fourth Hylian DJI. Zelda did not find this to be a coincidence at all.

Taking advantage of the necessity for Zelda to keep her head still, Leonore went on with her explanation of Link’s background. “We found Agent Link in the Spencer Welfare Program very early, when he was eleven. That was seven years ago; he had been in the care of the government for two years at the time. He showed excellent physical prowess, above average natural intellect, and an affinity for machinery, especially vehicles.” She spared a small smile. “Judging by what I’ve heard about your escape from Hyrule City, I’ll guess you’ve gathered that much already. We re-appropriated him to our own training regime. He began seeing formal active duty more than half a year ago, but he’s trained to the standard of an agent with roughly five years of field experience.”

Taylor turned off her flashlight, spoke even as she placed the equipment back in her bag. “You’re not feeling any form of discomfort, your Highness?” she asked for confirmation.

“I’m just tired, doctor,” Zelda managed a tired smile. “It’s been a long day.”

Although the doctor did not actually seem to believe what Zelda said, she nodded nonetheless, deciding the princess knew her endurance well enough to make her own calls. “I’ll trust your judgment,” Taylor relented, storing her equipment back into her bag. “I’d ask for a full examination, but something tells me you wouldn’t listen to me anyways. You don’t seem to have sustained any serious physical problems, but you’re dehydrated, and you’re low on sugar. When’s the last time you ate anything?”

“Major Jessica got me some rations when we managed to reach Gerudo lines.”

“Before that?”

Zelda recalled the “food” that Link had taken from the abandoned gas station convenience store earlier in the morning. “I had some cookies and juice earlier in the morning and afternoon,” she answered.

Disapproval was heavy in Taylor’s voice. “Insufficient to cover the adrenaline rush and physical output, especially for a fragile body like yours.” She placed nine small plastic bags, silver in color, on the table before them right beside the water pitcher. “These are nutrient packets. I want you to drink them with water, three times a day for the next three days, thirty minutes before each meal, not after. You can pour it in your mouth or mix it in water. Drink as much water as you can for the next three days as well.”

Zelda accepted this with a curt bob of her head. “Will that be all?”

Taylor’s mouth twitched once in what was essentially a difficult expression. “I’d tell you to get as much bed rest as possible, but…” she sighed, and her impassive front dropped for a moment, belaying hints of actual concern and sympathy. “I know that’s impossible with what’s happening to our countries, your Highness.” Taylor provided a small customary Gerudo bow, a slight inclination of her head and spine to indicate not subservience, but respect. “My prayers are with you and your people.”

The gesture was not unkindly, nor was it received as such; Zelda personally was quite thankful for any sympathetic gesture she could receive at this point. “Thank you, doctor,” she smartly imitated Taylor’s motion. “I wish the best for Gerudo as well.”

Finished with packing up her equipment, Taylor stood from where she had been seated, and Zelda politely stood with her to send off the doctor; as was required of court protocol, Leonore also rose as soon as her princess did. “Please don’t hesitate to ask for me should you feel any discomfort,” Taylor insisted as she prepared to leave.

“I will,” Zelda reassured Taylor.

Bowing again, Taylor moved to leave. “Then excuse me,” she spoke, then turned around, making her way through the living room and out the set of double doors once more.

As soon as the doors closed, Leonore decided that it was better if the princess’ decision was temporarily diverted elsewhere. “I think it might be a good idea to heed the doctor’s advice and get some rest, your Highness,” she encouraged, her voice soft, soothing, and kind. “I will, of course, vacate the room if you’d like.”

Zelda’s thin smile betrayed a quiet amusement that almost seemed cold. “Interesting how everyone seems to be telling me to get some rest.” Her voice was not at all scathing or harsh, but it somehow still conveyed a sense of veiled impatience with her situation.

Leonore shook her head in an attempt to dissuade Zelda from any paranoid thoughts. “I’m just trying to look out for your well-being, your Highness,” she tried to sound placating, and Zelda, for the first time, noted that Leonore somehow did not sound impatient for a woman not known to sugarcoat anything for or curry favor from her royal employers. It almost seemed if she was too tired to be particularly defensive…or something else – Zelda somehow was not convinced that fatigue had anything to do with Leonore’s sudden agreeability. “I’m pretty sure anything Link did to help you escape Hyrule City is not likely to be anything you’re used to. Joint Intelligence agents pull off some of the most dangerous feats in the world with alarming frequency.”

At that, Zelda’s smile turned soft; indeed, Zelda was not likely to ever get on Epona again, not with Link was riding it. Still, it brought another feeling of fondness for the Joint Intelligence agent, for his dedication and fearlessness when it came to his princess’ safety. “The reason why I asked about Link,” she said plainly to Leonore, “is that I want to thank you for assigning him to me. I don’t think I would’ve been able to make it out of Hyrule unharmed if it wasn’t for him.” She reached for the pitcher on the table; it was already filled with water, so Zelda immediately reached for the crystal cups stored in the cupboard underneath the living room table.

The twitch of her lips betrayed an effort to hide a smirk on Leonore’s part. “You don’t need to thank me, your Highness. My only concern was your safety at the time.”

Having fished out the proper glass, Zelda began to pour the contents of the pitcher into her glass. “I want you to know,” she continued, “that, once this is all over, I will be formally requesting Agent Link to be part of my personal security detail. Should he have no objections to being transferred from Joint Intelligence, I will be filing the paperwork as soon as this war ends. I wanted to inform you in advance and hope you don’t mind my decision.”

Although Zelda’s words were not unkindly – there was no bite or derision behind it – and her proposal absolutely reasonable, Leonore wondered why it was that she suddenly felt edge, uncomfortable, anxious, and…frightened. Still, she hid it well with a shake of a head, indicating that she did not intend to mount any form of opposition. “You’re the sovereign of Hyrule, your Highness,” she said simply, then mentally chastised herself as she realized just how obviously evasive that remark was. Her gaze remained unwavering on Zelda, not only to prevent herself from betraying nervousness, but also to try to look for any reaction from the princess that could give hints. But Zelda was just as good as Leonore in the political poker face game, and displayed no sign that she had noticed anything amiss…which pretty much meant she did, but chose not to show it.

There was a moment of silence even as Zelda kept her blue eyes serenely on Leonore, breaking eye contact only after she had mixed in powder contents of the nutrient packet and slowly indulged herself on the liquid. The taste was a bit bitter; it was likely that the nutrients, ground into a fine powder, were made from a collection of rare desert herbs. From the other end of the table, Leonore silently wondered if the princess was deliberately and subtly being condescending.

It was only after Zelda finally trained the glass of its contents that she finally returned her attention to Leonore, her gestures polite and gracefully. “Thank you, Leonore,” murmured Zelda. “I will heed your advice and get some rest. There’s much ahead of us, and I don’t want to be caught unprepared. Again, please do what you can about the mole, and don’t forgo rest yourself.”

The lack of actual options left Leonore giving a handsome bow even as she gave herself leave with the customary “yes, your Highness”. But even while she turned around and moved to the exit, she couldn’t help but notice that her heart was suddenly consumed by a strange fear and worry that she had not known was there before. Something about her conversation with Zelda, more than anything that had happened across this one-day-old war, had unnerved her, and it left Leonore shaken.

*****

Exoria File #006
Gunswords

One of the most important events in the evolution of the ballistic weapon was the drastic reduction in size of gunpowder-based ballistic weapons, which eventually transformed the arm cannon into a pistol. With the Valentine invention of the rifle, Hyrule was quick to attach bayonets to them, but Valent went the completely different direction, and ended up attaching swords to their pistols. For a while, the resulting weapon, the gunsword, was the object of ridicule of Hylian and Gerudo soldiers, who found the weapon impractical and difficult to use. Their contempt, however, was squelched when, during the Third Zoran Crusade in 1264 a.s.r., Valentine Duchess Sieglinde of Rynwall led a counterattacking army against Zoran aggressors, and utilized a gunsword to achieve an astounding two hundred and thirty-two confirmed kills credited personally to her name in the Battle of Dendrite Falls. The gunsword quickly became known as an extremely deadly and effective in the right hands, but the extraordinary difficulty in skillfully using the weapon did not make it commonplace, and proficient gunsword-wielders were few and far in between. The invention of the gunsword in Valent, however, coupled with the vast majority of gunsword wielders being of Valentine origin, effectively labeled the gunsword as a Valentine weapon. Over the years, Valent has been making numerous improvements to the gunsword, resulting in a weapon that is mechanically-powered, possessing near-instant transition from handgun to sword, with capabilities that rival both modern firearms and blades. Valentine special forces are known to possess gunswords as a standardized weapon, which they use to great effect.

*****

Author’s Note: Okay, I’m sorry, this finalizes the “escape to Garuda” storyarc. I didn’t actually intend to lie and make you think the story was moving forward that quickly, but this chapter ended up being much longer than I first thought. So…yeah. The next chapter with either be a breather chapter or the start of the next storyarc. We’ll see how it goes.

And now Ganondorf has finally appeared on stage. I hope I got his introduction was satisfactory; he’s an important character to the Zelda games, and I tried my best to ensure I got it right. He does seem a bit more gentlemanly and trustworthy – if not a bit noble – than as he is depicted in the games; it’s intentional, and there are reasons for it. And, no, I’m not going to tell you whether or not he’s faking it. That’s for you to figure out. Or wait for a revelation that may or may not come.

For those wondering, I do maintain a deviantArt gallery; I do pencil sketches, then play around with them a bit on Photoshop. My latest adventures have allowed me to sketch Link in his Joint Intelligence attire. It’s…not exactly a fantastic sketch – even I admit it looks a bit bland and un-Zelda-ish – but it gets the idea across. Hopefully, when Link finally gets a change of attire in the next storyarc, the sketch accompanying it will be better. Here's the link to the sketch.

Also, of interest is that someone has directed my attention to the fact that Exoria is now officially recommended on the TVTropes website; I was amused of this to no end, but it also makes me quite happy. The recommendation can be found here, for those curious.

so far chapter 3 was my favorite you probably guess why

anyway keep up the good work can't wait till the next chapter

i would say this is one of the greatest zelda fan fics on here and the simple fact that you sold me on the existence of said world

Originally Posted by DRTJR

i would say this is one of the greatest zelda fan fics on here and the simple fact that you sold me on the existence of said world

Thanks; good to see I'm doing something right. XD

Originally Posted by Pandora21

so far chapter 3 was my favorite you probably guess why

anyway keep up the good work can't wait till the next chapter

Chapter Three will probably get a lot of people excited, yes. XD

Chapter Six is going to be a bit of a breather chapter...for me as well. I'm going to take my time updating this one, but I'll try to get back on track after Chapter Six. Please be patient with me. ^_^;

And here is Chapter Six. ^_^;

*****

Chapter Six

Link awoke to the sound of quiet. It was an interesting sensation, one that took many moments to notice, the realization coming only after the silence was interrupted. Fort Garuda bustled with activity, and though the war had not yet reached the Gerudo capital, Garuda spared no expense at getting the entire capital to work. Throughout the night, soldiers marched to and fro while vehicles rumbled here and there; even through windowless rooms shut deep within Fort Garuda, Link could hear – no, feel – the activity that rumbled through the fort and the surrounding city, rocking him gently to sleep as he reclined on the bed provided to him in the fort diplomatic suite. Generally, security detail for a foreign sovereign were provided other rooms – perhaps in a state-affiliated hotel or military officer quarters – but the uniqueness of the situation, with Link being the princess’ only bodyguard, granted him one of the nearby diplomatic suites.

Now, however, the sounds and rocking had stopped, leaving Link with the strange impression that, somehow, the world had suddenly whisked life away, yet forgotten about him. It left him with a sense of dreadful foreboding, so he quickly rose from his bed and moved to the door. So tired was he the night before that he had not bothered to take a change of clothes – only having taken off his jacket, removed his tie, and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt – before dropping into the soft caress of a soft mattress and clean sheets, and how he was dressed sleeping was exactly how he was dressed as he woke. He slipped on his shoes and tucked his gunsword into a spare belt holster before putting on his sunglasses and making his way out the room, but only after he spared the nearby grandfather clock a glance from behind heavily tinted lenses; lack of windows to see the skies outside made it difficult to guess at the time of day. The hands read six fifty-five, presumably in the morning.

He remembered how the night had ended before, being summoned by Leonore to the hallways after she had finished her briefing with Zelda. When Leonore had told Link that she had orders for him, he had straightened immediately, knowing that the circumstances demanded a new level of attention and dedication. To his surprise, however – and possibly to his irritated self-embarrassment – Leonore had grinned at Link’s motion and quipped, “Yes, Link, I’m about to give clandestine orders to a Joint Intelligence agent whom everyone in the central government knows is here in a nation dominated by females of a different ethnicity. I’m sure you’ll be able to covertly execute whatever top secret assignment I’m about to provide you and not attract attention. Very subtle.”

Link had made a face; he never liked it whenever Leonore saw it fit to treat him like a child.

Her smirk had softened into a smile, and her words had actually surprised Link a bit. “You have a mandatory forty-eight hour leave from duty after an equally mandatory eight hour bed rest,” she said seriously but serenely. “You’ve been through a lot, and I think all of us feel quite indebted to you for what you’ve managed to accomplish. There’s not a lot you can do right now as a Joint Intelligence agent, and security doesn’t seem to be a serious problem, so, for now, I want you to rest and recuperate. That’s an order.”

Now that Link actually thought about it, despite his misgivings about how Leonore liked to treat him sometimes, the woman was the closest thing to a mother as anyone had ever gotten. She had looked out for him since he was transferred from the state-run orphanage to Joint Intelligence’s secret training program through the Spencer Welfare Program, and although Leonore had hundreds of other people to take care of, she still managed to somehow seem close with him. Of course, never that close and not him in particular – their respective professionalism never allowed that – but there was a great sense of gratitude and respect for the woman who was capable of treating him both as a valuable agent and a young adult; no one else in his growth really managed to accomplish both, and, honestly speaking, Leonore was someone very special in Link’s life.

Not that he’d ever actually tell that to Leonore.

Still, he had the fact that the corridors were empty and deserted to deal with. Stepping out of the doors of his room, he noticed that he could neither see nor hear any of the patrols that were supposed to be guarding this area, a serious concern, considering that he had been reassured by Jessica only yesterday that the diplomatic suites fell under the purview of three different security sections. It had only been yesterday, after all, that Link had traversed the nothingness of the continent with Zelda, looking for anyone for answers, but finding that the great expanse had been abandoned by all but the enemy. The inability to immediately see anyone, therefore, was unsettling to Link, who immediately undid the strap of his holster to facilitate a quicker draw should the need arise. He did not immediately draw his gunsword, but he made sure the safety switch was off.

Vaguely remembering that there seemed to be a reception area in front of the elevators where they had rode in from, Link moved in the general direction, and his fears were dispelled as he finally managed to find the area. Sitting behind the counter was a Gerudo sergeant, fully armed and with a cache of military-grade weapons in the shelves below at her disposal should the need to use them arise. Like most in her outfit, she wore an abridged version of the tan and red khakis of Gerudo’s army, exposing the arms and some of the midriff. Had the average person not understood Gerudo’s climate and how stifling some indoor areas could be without proper air conditioning, one would’ve thought that these uniforms were used for fashion modeling, not soldiering.

Noticing Link’s approach, the sergeant offered him a polite nod as she sat up straighter; on top of him being a guest of a foreign chain of command, Link was an agent and not actually a ranked military officer, making it difficult to discern who had a higher paygrade, so the inclination of the head was offered instead of a salute. It presented utmost respect, but not deference. “Good morning, agent,” she greeted using the generic title for Link, and spared his unbuttoned shirt a look longer than was really necessary.

He emulated the same motion – without the equally long stare, anyhow – then gave a revealing look around, clearly concerned of the lack of patrols in the area. Obviously, something wasn’t extraordinarily wrong, not if someone reasonably calm was left here, but the absence of strict security measures was somehow…worrisome.

Noting and understanding Link’s appraisal of the situation, the sergeant quickly explained, “It’s time for the morning prayer. We take ten minutes out of every day, from six fifty-five to seven-oh-five, for it. Most of the soldiers and staff in the area go to their respective prayer rooms, but there’s always someone left out here to maintain watch. You don’t need to worry about security measures.”

Link somehow found reason to doubt that. He knew about the morning prayer – it wasn’t his first time in Gerudo – but he didn’t actually expect this to extend to active fortress staff. It seemed as if security was significantly dropped at a predictable time and manner every day. From a number of armed patrols to a single sergeant manning the reception area? Even for ten minutes, it was far too risky, considering what was at stake. This was something he was going to have to consult his superiors with, both Leonore and Zelda.

His thoughts, however, were interrupted at the sudden opening of a door to the side, resulting in a rather violent bang as a figure quickly rushed out from within. Link acted upon reflex, and his hand was already on the grip of his handgun when he suddenly realized that the sergeant did not seem alarmed at all, that the door led to one of the security offices on the floor, and that he actually recognized the figure that had burst from the office. Both Link and Jessica froze as they locked eyes, both with a certain amount of surprise. Well, Link conceded, Jessica did not seem as surprised as she seemed flustered. For one thing, it seemed almost clear that she had just woken up and was in a rush; her hair was a tangled mess which she was in the middle of attempting to tie into a ponytail, a hair band was held between her lips as she tried to gather her hair into said ponytail with both hands, and the upper portion of her white MICO robes were loose and trailing behind her, only donned halfway. The robes themselves were only secured around the waist, covering the lower half of the body with what was effectively a long, red, pleated dress which Link recognized as formal wear for MICO agents when not acting as field liaisons.

Otherwise, though, the only thing standing between Link’s gaze and Jessica’s bare upper body was a long strip of thick cotton cloth sarashi wrapped around her from the midriff to the chest.

Jessica blinked, and it was only after Link copied the motion that she finally snapped into relative awareness.

“A-A-Agent Link!” she gasped even as her relatively light cheeks turned a shade of crimson, and her hands abruptly dropped to her side in what was almost a reflexive motion to a formal stance, the hair band between her lips dropping to the ground as she spoke. Realizing the blunder, she moved to bend down to pick the band up, but she had completed the downward motion halfway when she seemed to suddenly realize that there was an immediate lack of upper body clothing properly donned on her, and, with what was clearly a flustered yelp, she almost took a small leap back as she wrapped her arms around her, curiously obscuring her chest, looking at Link in a way that made him feel almost as if he was some sort of predator. To say she was embarrassed was an understatement.

Link blinked helplessly. Somehow, this did not seem like the MICO major Jessica he remembered from yesterday. Perhaps he was mistaking this lady for Jessica? With the hair undone, Link might’ve mistaken her for someone else. No, he had recognized her voice, even if it was a shrill, flustered cry. Never mind the fact that this was a complete contradiction to how she was last night – serious and dispassionate – but even though he certainly wasn’t complaining, Link wanted to ask the question as to why she was here, in a rush, disheveled, and only partly-dressed. His head told him that he should be worried – if Jessica was freaking out, this was probably something bad – but his gut feeling somehow reassured him that it was something trivial.

Gently, the Hylian agent bent down to pick up the hair band even as Jessica still froze there in clear hesitation, then just as eloquently handed the band over to her. In return, she looked at the hair band anxiously and nervously, almost as if the object in his hand was some sort of possible but irresistible bait, but, with hesitant progress, she reached out and eventually took the hair band. After shooting covert glances at the door to the security office once more – debating whether or not she should retreat back to the safe confines of another room – she eventually put the hair band back between her lips and started hastily donning the rest of her robes with frantic pacing before attempting to tie a ponytail once more; it seemed that she had come to a decision that, with the damage already done, any move otherwise might’ve been a further sign of impoliteness to an already disrespectful situation. In a dominantly female society, it was clear Jessica had not been expecting the presence of other males in the vicinity.

Perhaps it was due to the lack of lighting throughout the entirety of the previous night, or possibly due to the fatigue that he had been experiencing, but, with a handful of spare moments available to him, Link suddenly came upon a strange realization, one that told him that Jessica was actually much younger than he had initially thought. The serious, dispassionate demeanor in which she had carried herself last night – coupled with the MICO rank of major – had given him the impression that this was a woman who was at least half a decade older than himself, but now that he caught a much better glimpse of Jessica in strong lighting, with her hair undone and a better view of her physique, Link realized that this was most certainly not the case. A closer study of her features once more made him doubt, in fact, if Jessica had yet to reach her twenties…or if she was even older than Link. Especially with her current flustered expression, the major seemed particularly young and girlish. Link wondered just how he could’ve missed that detail last night…and how someone this young managed to attain the military rank of major. He also wondered – now he was looking at this side of Jessica – just how much he could trust her with security on the floor.

“Major,” the sergeant stood and saluted after the awkward exchange, deciding that the timing wasn’t going to make things more stressful than it already was. However, Link couldn’t help but notice that the sergeant’s salute, slightly lax and subdued, was the complete opposite to the greeting she had offered Link: Laced with deference…but almost devoid of respect. He found that oddly offsetting, for some reason he could not readily identify.

With the hair band still stuck between her lips, Jessica mumbled something suspiciously that sounded like “at ease” before, just a moment later, finishing the last folds of her robes. The sergeant sat back down impassively as Jessica finally removed the hair band from her mouth, using it to affix her hair into a ponytail. That done, she finally addressed Link; although she attempted to speak with an air of remembered dignity and seriousness, the damage had already been done, and aside from the inability to mask her blush, she now simply seemed flustered and younger than how she had presented herself the previous night. “G-Good morning, agent,” Jessica made out after the initial stutter. “Are you up for the morning prayer?”

Link shook his head, noting to himself at the same time that Jessica was obviously desperate to change the topic. Anyone could tell that Link wasn’t up for morning prayer, not with him incompletely dressed, wearing sunglasses, and keeping a hand close to the handle of the gunsword still tucked in his holster. That said, he finally noticed that his left hand was still hovering close to the holster…and allowed it to drop to his side. That belt holster – which he used when he wasn’t using standard Joint Intelligence equipment – had been a gift from Leonore to accommodate the fact that he was one of the few left-handed agents in Joint Intelligence.

Apparently, Jessica noticed the foolishness of her question, and, flustered, dropped her gaze from Link’s impassive face to his chest…then, realizing it wasn’t going to work with his open shirt, dropped it down to the ground in further embarrassment. “M-My apologies, of course you aren’t,” she managed to make out while she fidgeted, and stopped there, looking around helplessly, uncertain as to how she was going to continue this conversation. The sergeant pointedly looked away from Jessica, and Link had a suspicion that the sergeant was only pretending not to be available for assistance.

It would be an understatement to say that Link felt sorry for Jessica and what probably was a disastrous morning. Insofar as he could make out, she had slept in the security office, woke up too late, was rushing on her way towards morning prayer while dressing and making herself presentable at the same time, and had barely managed to get halfway when she ran into Link. Deciding that it may be prudent to attempt to salvage the situation – he had the entire day to himself, anyways, and wasn’t sure how else he was supposed to spend it in a foreign capital during a time of war – he made a gesture towards the elevators right behind him as he stepped aside, making way for Jessica, but also moving slowly towards the elevators himself – not so fast as to leave the major behind – in an indication that he would come along for prayer as well.

Reflex took priority over reason at Link’s gesture; a combination of haste, uncertainty, and embarrassment allowed her to walk forward towards the elevator before she even thought of it. By the time she had actually thought the situation over and realized that it would probably be a bit more awkward if she did something incredibly stupid in front of Link again, he was already in the elevator beside her, the doors closing. Mouthing something silently – Link, who could read lips, was certain it wasn’t Interlingua – Jessica seemed to hesitate before the buttons of the elevator before pressing the highest button on the elevator, which began to climb instantly. “I suppose it would be prudent to show you the prayer, since you seem to have the moment,” she managed to say, but the major still didn’t seem to have completely regained her composure, and shyly averted her gaze from Link.

Link was suddenly quite worried of possible complications between Gerudo cultural perceptions on modesty, romance, and responsibility.

It took several moments of awkward silence before the elevator doors parted, and when Link was led out, he found himself walking through a metallic hallway on the upper floors of Fort Garuda. He soon discovered that it was actually less of a hallway that it was a ramp, making sharp ninety-degree turns every now and then at the edge of the fort structure, going upwards toward the floors above. It was meters above where they had left the elevator that the ramp finally ended, and Link found himself in one of the defensive chambers of Fort Garuda. It wasn’t overly spacious, but the telltale signs were present: The artillery guns lined up against the massive openings in the fort walls out towards the vast beyond were large and powerful, although the entire defense seemed to be manned only by a skeleton crew of less than half a dozen that could ensure minimal operation in case someone truly did attack Garuda during morning prayer.

Unlike the other parts of the fort, the walls here were completely made of metallic substances, no rock anywhere. The design made sense; with Fort Garuda shaped moreorless like a ziggurat, the upper, thinner portions would be more suspect to damage. Reinforcing steel beams crisscrossed the roof, provided the support that the chamber needed from the rumble of artillery guns and possible return fire. Surrounding them were tungsten artillery shells, extra guns, large industrial tools, spare parts, everything needed to maintain the guns and keep them running.

“This way,” Jessica motioned for Link to follow as she continued in stride. The stability in her voice indicated that she was finally calming down, although she still did not look at Link directly. The artillery crews, dressed in crisp red work uniforms, offered salutes as they passed by, although Link noted that they spared Jessica a longer look; whether they, too, held Jessica in disdain or were merely curious of why such a young girl wore the insignia of major was anyone’s guess.

It was to one of the openings in the fort walls that Jessica led Link, maneuvering around the space between wall and artillery gun. At the very edge of the artillery platform was a railing that prevented anyone careless enough from sliding down the ziggurat walls. At that very edge, though, the two commanded what was possibly the best view of the city without the aid of an aerial vehicle, having a clear view of the Garuda cityscape. It was minutes away from seven in the morning, and the sun cast rays across the city even while the skies remained a pale blue, refusing to wake and retain its azure colors just yet. From their height, Link actually commanded a decent view of the city over the inner ring of massive walls surrounding the area around Fort Garuda.

Standing right at the railing, Link did not immediately noticed that Jessica had suddenly gotten down on one knee, her head bowed and her hands clasped together, fingers intertwined. Watching her on the metallic floor, he barely saw the silhouettes of several of the engineers inside who still worked to and fro; apparently, skeleton staff maintained their roles even in morning prayer, and Link decided that these roles were probably interchanged from time to time. Jessica mouthed something that he knew was not Interlingua, which slowly grew to a murmur that was almost singsong and melodic in nature.

Then, from where he stood at the fort opening, he heard it throughout the city.

The crescendo, the rise in audible volume, had been so soft, initiated from dead silence, so Link did not immediately notice it at first. It took many seconds for him to realize that he did not hear just Jessica singing in the Gerudo language, but the population of Garuda, and the fact became evident as the echoes of voices came from the ground far below, coming from open prayer houses scattered throughout the city, a citywide choir coming together in a melodic prayer. The Gerudo equivalent of a psalm, maybe, Link speculated; his previous operations in Gerudo did not make it a necessity to integrate himself thoroughly to the finer points of local culture. The song wafted almost magically up to where he stood, listening, almost entranced.

It was not the first time he had heard a Gerudo prayer. He had seen tourists and foreign dignitaries perform the ritual in the past, and he was almost certain that he probably had a music disc somewhere in his apartment that had a rendition of the track. This, however, was completely different, both in sound and in scale. This was no recording, but a massive congregation of will as the entire city joined in holy prayer. The voices across Garuda did not sing on the same musical scale, each individual murmuring at a pitch one was more comfortable with – the variance was not extremely great, with most of the population being female – but that only seemed to enhance a certain sense of acoustic harmony. Jessica herself sang in a clear, crystal-like voice, almost brittle and almost child-like, taking on a higher pitch that was noticeably shriller than the general pitch coming from the city. At times, a voice rang out from various parts of the city, singing something in a louder, clearer voice in a much more rapid tempo, and the city followed those lyrics shortly afterwards at a slower pace. Link thought that perhaps the voice belonged to a prayer leader. The fact that he did not actually understand the lyrics made it that much more arcane, and that much more beautiful.

The speed at which each prayer house finished was different, and after five minutes, it slowly died out like a round of applause instead of ending abruptly. Slowly, a decrescendo took place as the song-prayer faded away, and when it did, it was followed by many seconds of dead silence, as if the air in which sound was carried had suddenly been temporarily sucked away, leaving nothing but the light howling of desert winds.

Then, just as slowly, life came back to Garuda as its heart started beating again. Moving pinpricks of color in the streets showed the reemergence of people moving out of their prayer houses and back to their morning customs. The sounds of engines, from cars and from tanks, were heard cranking up. Military boots clacked against pavement in unison as a parade detail marched by Fort Garuda below. Voices of the early market sellers calling for bargains and sales could be heard beyond the ring walls. Cars filled the streets once more. The din returned to Garuda with bustling activity as if the city had finally roused itself and went to work.

Rising from her kneeling position, Jessica exhaled deeply, opening her closed eyes, before looking at Link, having turned around to face the major; the Hylian agent’s expression was subdued, he also made it clear through minimal signs that he was appropriately impressed. For the first time since Link knew her, she managed a small smile. “We pray to Dinah, our one and only true goddess, the creator of all,” Jessica explained quietly, seeing minute clues that told her Link was not entirely familiar with Gerudo culture and customs. “Morning prayer is a custom we have adhered to even before the founding of the Gerudo Union.”

Link wasn’t surprised at all. Unlike Hyrule and Valent, Gerudo’s culture had always been closely tied with its religion. He nodded, indicating the acceptance of this explanation.

It was only after a moment of hesitation that Jessica decided to allow curiosity get the better of her, and asked, “Are you religious, Agent Link?”

The pursing of his lips and a slightly conflicted expression told much. Link had never really considered himself religious; growing up parentless in Hyrule had not given him much to be optimistic about, and faith seemed to be, for him, a flimsy hope at best. He knew that a respectable portion of the Hylian population was at least lightly religious, with very few radicals in between, but he was also an academic having been offered some of the best in educational opportunities by Joint Intelligence, by Leonore herself. He knew just how fickle religion could be, and how they changed from age to age. Polytheism, such as belief in the three Golden Goddesses, was replaced over time with monotheism, such as the religion surrounding Dinah. Mythologies came and gone, with new ideas replacing the old when discoveries were made that debunked the teachings of the previous faith. Somehow, the ever-changing interpretation man had towards the heavens did not instill in Link a great deal of faith in how accurate religion was in explaining the “answers of life”. And, from a historical perspective, he knew that religion had far too often been used as an instrument of population control…or as a catalyst for wars and atrocities. Link had always felt that religion bended to suit the needs of man, and not the needs of whatever deities might actually exist.

Deciding that his stance was decidedly agnostic, not atheistic or faithful, Link merely gave what seemed like a helpless shrug.

Jessica decided Link’s body language was rather easy to read. “Then may you someday find the way,” she bowed her head gracefully in an exaggerated nod.

Link felt that there was a great deal of subtext and hidden meanings behind that sentence, decided that the mystique behind such a statement was largely attributed by religious attitudes in Gerudo. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to “find the way”, though; he personally found his current “way” perfectly fine.

The two continued to stand on the upper platforms of Fort Garuda, looking at the city and the desert beyond. Link imagined that he saw what were possibly anti-aircraft tracers and explosions in the very distant west, but he could not be sure; such a fireworks show would be easier to spot in nighttime. Further to the north, a shroud of dust blocked the horizon, indicating that a storm was brewing. Link remembered just how deadly sandstorms could be centuries ago…and how modern infrastructure and weather control had helped the Gerudo Union brave the elements of their desert lands.

Fidgeting, Jessica pursed her lips nervously beside Link before speaking softly, hesitantly. “I wish to extend my condolences to you and Princess Zelda, agent,” she tried to sound as professional as she could, but Link detected a trace of hurt in it. “I…have not exactly conducted myself in a worthy fashion.”

Link raised his eyebrows as he turned towards Jessica with a neutral, inquisitive look; this admission was a bit sudden.

The awkwardness of the situation caused Jessica to turn away slightly, her gaze directed towards the cityscape of Garuda rather than Link himself. “The truth is I’m…” There was hesitation there, and she had to take a deep breath before she continued with her explanation. “I’m the daughter of a ruling lord. I was placed in MICO with the rank of major through family contacts and relationships and favors…but I have actually not been here for more than half a year.” She smiled wistfully, a sardonic curl of the lips with an obvious trace of sadness. “As you might imagine, my peers and comrades do not sit well with this undeserved promotion.”

Uncertain of what to feel, Link’s reaction was something between contempt and sympathy; an agent that had gotten his position through training and dedication, he was not necessarily fond of those who gain rank through the influence and power of others, but the subtext of Jessica’s statement made it almost clear that it was not actually her choice, but the choice of her father. Or mother; Link reminded himself of Gerudo’s demographics and how many women chose to style themselves lord instead of lady. The enmity of the rest of her office, however, was a predictable result, and he personally wondered just how well Jessica coped with this. But at least it explained her young age and how she managed to attain such a rank in MICO.

“I have never been responsible for any important persons, never mind a head of state,” she continued, almost chuckling out the latter part of the statement in a melancholic manner, “but some of my superiors, those who bear a grudge against me, were the ones who made me responsible for escorting her Highness here last night. And with the generalissimo insistent that I remain in charge…” Once again, Jessica took a deep breath before she spoke; the sound of the air being expelled was worryingly brittle. “I do not know whether or not the generalissimo is also in on this.”

Although the possibility was indeed there, Link somehow doubted this. Not only did he find Ganondorf not to be the type of man who pursued that kind of grudge, he didn’t think that the head of state of the Gerudo Union would spend his time trying to figure out how to make the life of a young, measly major in the Military Intelligence Coordination Office miserable. Link ventured a guess that her rigidness and stiffness of the previous night was a mask over her insecurity and anxiety. For one thing, though, he now knew just how inexperienced Jessica was; he had never met any other intelligence agent who revealed those kinds of insecurities on someone else, especially someone known for less than an entire day. His resurfacing concern for the safety, security, and well-being of Zelda was only comparable by a growing sympathy for the major.

Apparently, Jessica had finally picked up that she was being a bit too open for her own good. “I-I’m sorry,” she muttered, shaking her head, now looking sufficiently embarrassed as a blush crept onto her face once more. “I shouldn’t be dumping this onto you. That was…inconsiderate of me…” She trailed away, as if her mind had slowly come across something more prudent, more appropriate to say, but that possibility quickly dispelled itself as Jessica shook her head and apologized again. “I’m sorry.”

Link managed an awkward smile; Jessica apologized quite a bit, and it was making him feel a bit embarrassed for her. His hand came up, patted the major’s shoulder twice – a motion that surprised Jessica, judging by the slight flinch she made in response – as if telling her it was okay, and he didn’t mind.

In response, she managed an amused smile of her own, her eyes trained on Link in the manner of an older sister appraising the antics of a younger brother. “You don’t talk much, do you?” she giggled.

If the major couldn’t see Link rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses, then she certainly saw Link’s expression screw up into that of a slightly sarcastic smirk, as if to say, “Oh, gee, do you think?”

Jessica giggled again, her voice sounding vaguely like crystal chiming off each other, before managing to straighten and providing a small, casual salute; strictly unnecessary, considering the federal employee status of Link and the officer status of Jessica making rank comparisons near impossible, but the Joint Intelligence agent didn’t think the MICO major saluted out of protocol anyways. “It was a pleasure talking with you,” she beamed, “but I think it’s time I returned to my responsibilities of maintaining security for Princess Zelda. Shall I be taking you back down?”

Link shook his head from where he stood, still remaining by the railing; he actually rather enjoyed the view up from Fort Garuda over the rest of the city, and entertained the idea of remaining here for a good part of the morning, watching the foreign capital come to life. Jessica privately wondered if Link was one of those people who did not know how to live his life beyond the confines of the intelligence community…but chastised herself mentally for making assumptions. Besides she understood his wishes as she smiled, nodded, and left.

That, for now, was enough.

*****

Tiredly eying the clock on the other side of the room, Zelda noted with detached indifference that the time was now nine in the morning, and exhaled as a yawn formed in her throat, her lithe body stretching on the chair she was sitting on, tipping the seat onto its hind legs just slightly when her arms came up. Hugging herself a bit after removing a large pair of headphones from her head, she sighed, closing her eyes, catching just a few seconds of reprise as her slender fingers placed the pen in between them flat on the table, temporarily ignoring the sheets of notebook paper that was accumulating on her desk with hastily scribbled notes, notes that included which Gerudo battalions were using which frequencies, where each of them were, fragmented decryptions of battle codes from both Gerudo and Valentine, practically anything they could use for reference later on. It was in her own diplomatic suite that she monitored battlefield communications across the continent with a miniature communication suite that the personnel of Fort Garuda had lent her for her attempt to communicate with Hylian forces and attempt to piece together more of the war.

She had slept for little more than an hour the night before; the war was to blame for her insomnia. It was in the suite that she sat for hours on end, listening through the earphones of armies communicating with each other, battle reports ranging from Hyrule to Gerudo. She had yet to change out of her bedrobes, and the instinctive thought of asking for breakfast to be brought to her suite was a distant one. Strangely enough, Zelda was used to this kind of abuse; long nights were not something that remained confined to wartime for the sovereign of Hyrule. The Hylian public would probably be surprised at the hours she kept on a general basis.

On the desk of the suite’s living room where the communication suite was, a host of large equipment that took up over half the desk, laid another set of headphones, one that Zelda’s chief of staff used to monitor communications along with her. Impa had told Zelda to rest and leave the work to the Hylian chief of staff, but Zelda knew that was not a luxury she could afford. Maybe she could’ve done it had she had the presence of generals or admirals or any commissioned officer in her entourage here in Gerudo…but the problem was that there was none. Impa was a royal employee, and while Leonore and Link were considered federal agents – or probably something beyond federal agents – with very good intelligence over their own military forces, they were still technically not part of the military. That said, the crown princess had tasked Leonore with using her sources – what remained of the DJI’s hidden connections, anyhow – in an attempt to find the traitor or mole in their military forces. And as much as Zelda had come to trust Link, she did not feel that she should be burdening a field agent with administrative work. Learning that Leonore had sent him on a paid forty-eight hour leave reinforced that belief.

So that left Zelda, commander-in-chief of the Hylian armed forces, the highest ranking officer present. In fact, the highest ranking officer even if otherwise. And the crown princess was not easily deterred.

For all their efforts, however, communications on the channels were rather tame. While they had access to most Gerudo battle chatter, they spoke in battle code that Zelda was unfamiliar with, which could also be said for whatever few Valentine communiqués they managed to crack. Most of the forces in the Gerudo theater of operations had reached a stalemate, and the immediate, fierce direct fighting had subsided as Gerudo struggled to regroup and plan for more coordinated operations…which was probably the case for Valent as well. Attempting to patch into Hylian communication channels, however, was still difficult, considering Gerudo equipment certainly was not equipped with them, and Valentine electronic jamming was heavy. The static situation had permitted Zelda to relieve Impa for the moment, the princess trying to get her subordinate to catch some sleep. The latter’s flat refusal, however, allowed for a concession that had Impa go assist Leonore in the attempt to locate the mole in Hyrule’s armed forces. The last time she had heard from Leonore, Zelda learned that the director was attempting to locate Admiral Francis.

Zelda rubbed the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger. Like it or not, she had to admit that she was a bit tired. Well, not just a bit tired, but truly so. The truth was that the day-long escape, with only sporadic periods of rest in between, had drained her stamina, and she was already beginning to feel the numbness creeping up to her head, affecting her otherwise pristine clear train of thought. Maybe she would take up on Impa’s advice after all, get some rest when she could.

Opening her eyes, the crown princess placed the earphones back on. Yes, she told herself dismissively. That can come later. There is work to do now.

If there was any advantage Gerudo enjoyed in this war, it was the strength of their land-based army. Compared to both the armies of Hyrule and Valent, Gerudo had an excellently-trained infantry corps that were considered to be unrivaled when it came to land engagements. The basic infantryman – or infantrywoman, considering the Gerudo demographic – was a jack-of-all-trades, trained in unarmed combat, various firearms, vehicle operations, and machinery maintenance, with a few specialties in between. Any random infantry fireteam from Gerudo could hop into a tank at any time and drive it into combat should necessity warrant for it. Autonomous command also proved to be effective in this situation; although Gerudo did not suffer from the same disadvantage Hyrule had, a capital city located too close to the border, had Garuda fallen into enemy hands, regional armies could still put up coordinate resistance all by themselves, as it was what they were used to by principle anyways. The only immediate weakness that Zelda could immediately recall about the Gerudo army was a crippling lack of specialization; the country had only a handful of battalions dedicated to any specific battlefield role, and literally no special forces.

But that was a marginal disadvantage, so Zelda did not linger on Gerudo channels long, not when she was fairly confident that, now that a stalemate was reached, there would be no immediate danger of breakthrough. There was the fear of coordinated Valentine air strikes, of course – Valentine, in comparison, had an exceptional air force – but the Gerudo defense was a bit too far inland, making the logistics behind airborne missions strained and expensive as the distance between Valentine airbases and the main line of resistance increased. In a sense, that was also the disadvantage Hyrule had at the moment; although the strength of the Hylian navy was unmatched, it could do little to attack enemy forces too far inland…especially when they were barely achieving parity from a surprise attack by enemy naval forces. Navies were less inclined for defensive purposes anyways…especially in a campaign where the defense was of land-bound assets.

Zelda sighed again, half-heartedly skimming through the Gerudo channels to get the latest news on the situation at the main line of resistance. There were codes exchanged back and forth indicating another enemy attack, but the Gerudo voices seemed pretty calm about it. Another sweep through encrypted Valentine channels pronounced nothing this round. The fact that she couldn’t receive much from Hylian channels was depressing.

A stray wish entered her head, that her parents were still with her, and that she didn’t have to handle state affairs as crown princess at such an age. She would’ve needed to inherit the responsibilities eventually, yes, but having become the nation’s sovereign only two years ago at the age of sixteen felt like it had taken so much out of her life, forced her to mature and adapt. And now that they were at war, Zelda entertained the selfish wish that both her parents were still here. Yet Queen Marsha was now buried in the royal cemetery, having died in a fatal car accident. And King Robin II had fallen into a coma two years ago after surviving a different car crash…and his whereabouts were currently unknown, him separated from his daughter by the blackout of information created by the Valentine armies in between.

Zelda found it almost laughable, the circumstances in which she gained her phobia to cars and vehicles. Her pen scratched at paper away half-heartedly; the battle reports were becoming routine, monotonous now. A staccato of booted, evenly-paced footsteps echoed from outside the door, a patrol of Gerudo soldiers walking by.

Her mind was drifting. She forcibly pulled it back, although it was admittedly difficult with there being very little across scanning the frequencies outside static. There was only so much of that kind of noise one could take before blanking out.

The radio hiccupped a bit, generated a slight increase of static before voices began to speak in Zelda’s earphones again. To her interest, however, the frequency was of Valentine origin this time, the signal barely encrypted. She isolated the feed, clicking a button to make sure the communications suite remained on this signal. The rapid-fire exchange amongst the voices, all of them – Zelda counted five different voices – speaking in Interlingua, was filled with Valentine code phrases and battle codes that Zelda was not familiar with, but they sounded vaguely like the relaying of attack orders. Curious; the crown princess wondered why this was being broadcasted on such a weakly encrypted channel.

The transmission lasted for another fifteen seconds – Zelda guessed it was confirmation exchanges of target acquisition – before the frequency went silent. She toyed with the dials and switches in an attempt to see if the line had truly went dead, or if the encryption scheme had been elevated; it turned out to be the former.

So an attack was being mounted by Valentine forces…somewhere. She had not gleamed enough of the transmission to figure out where this was taking place, so she decided to run a scan through all frequencies once more. Maybe further radio chatter on other frequencies might reveal what areas were at risk.

To Zelda’s surprise, she found the frequency she was looking for faster than she had expected by listening to Gerudo reports of an attack. Any attempt to flip through her notes to see what she had marked as the location of the transmission source earlier, however, was interrupted by a sudden realization on Zelda’s part that there was a lot of yelling over the channel. Screaming, in fact. And sounds that suspiciously resembled gunfire, missiles, explosions…and an all-too-familiar thumping.

For the next five minutes, she listened in horror as panicked transmissions were shared amongst the Gerudo servicewomen stationed in that operations area, constantly interrupted by rapid bursts of gunfire and explosions. She did not need to be able to decipher the Gerudo battle codes to be able to tell that something had just happened…and the Gerudo forces in the area were caught on the wrong end of far too much firepower. Zelda flinched once as the first radiowoman suddenly made a wet gagging sound – the radiowoman was likely to have been killed by a bullet or something – before her equipment was taken by another soldier after nearly twenty seconds of audible carnage.

It was after those five minutes that the frequency went completely silent…save what sounded like a distant decrescendo of that awful sound of massive pillars moving away from the abandoned radio in ground-crushing motions. Another voice, speaking in a Gerudo dialect and using codes that indicated she was speaking on behalf of combat control behind the frontlines, penetrated the silence in a distress, fearful attempt to raise anyone from the defending Gerudo battalion on the radio.

There was no response.

And as if to confirm her suspicions, as Zelda slowly, shakily, and numbly removed the earphones from her head, she heard the sound of rapid footsteps outside her doors at a panicked, running pace, accompanied by urgent, frantic voices that were muffled behind the closed doors. Clearly, bad news had reached home all too soon.

In almost-jerking motions, Zelda swiftly stood up, ran for the door. Now she seriously needed to find Impa and Leonore.

*****

It was almost nine thirty when Link received the text message on his cell phone.

He almost missed the ringtone that his cell phone projected, which failed to penetrate the din of the Garuda marketplace, but the vibration in his pocket caught his attention. Although generally not particularly fond of loud environments, Link sometimes made an exception for the Gerudo marketplaces, the more correct name in this instance being “bazaar”. The shrill calls of merchants left and right were not keen on his senses, the streets of Garuda flanked by merchant stalls on both sides with too many people congesting the roads for his comfort. Nor was Link entirely comfortable with the fact that there were far too many feminine glances thrown at one of the very few males on the street for his comfort. Still, Link always appreciated a certain preservation of cultural heritage that Gerudo managed here…that, and these bazaars generally carried items that couldn’t be found anywhere else. True, most of the stalls sold vegetables and fruits and other types of fruit, but every now and then, he’d find something particularly interesting being sold. On one particular undercover mission in Gerudo, he remembered finding a still-operable minesweeper from the Second Continent War, a relic from almost sixty years ago, being sold alongside several second-hand laptop computers.

In short, Gerudo bazaars were almost like a supermarket and a black market mixed in one.

Link frowned as he patted his body down for his cell phone. He had a highly developed sense of order, and certain items he carried with him were always allocated to their correct pockets. Wallet and any type of monetary items were stored in the left pocket, keys and access cards on the right, cell phones in the inner jacket pocket. Except with the type of weather in Garuda, Link decided that it was probably not a good idea to wear his usual attire in the stifling heat, and found himself a polo shirt instead. The unfamiliarity of the revised location of his cell phone, however, took him a few seconds to overcome before finally fishing it out from his right pocket.

He quickly unlocked the cell phone, keyed for new messages, found one new message from Director Leonore. The text from a woman who could type nearly as fast on her cell phone as she could on a keyboard was unusually terse:

“Urgent development. Return ASAP.”

Link grimaced. An urgent text message from the director of Joint Intelligence a mere ten hours since being given an official leave was, as a rule, a sure sign of bad news.

*****

Exoria File #007
Gerudo Union

Formerly a simple alliances of desert tribes, the need to pool resources together in order to weather the harsh climate of the desert formed the basis of the Gerudo Union, itself formally founded roughly seven centuries ago, with historians still in dispute over the exact year. Originally a theocratic republic, politics and technology slowly replaced religion as the dominant forces of the desert civilization, which have also improved by leaps and bounds in the creation of a Gerudo less vulnerable to the natural disadvantages of the desert. Although it is formally considered a single nation, the Gerudo Union is, in fact, a federation of multiple allied states of cultural and ethnic similarities. Each state has autonomous powers over its own political affairs, capable of resisting pressure from the Gerudo capital of Garuda if need be, but they are expected to defer to the Generalissimo in all military affairs, particularly when during a state of war. This has been a serious point of contention in Southern Gerudo, where two civil wars have broken out in the history of the union over heated disputes of the extent of central authority. Those of Gerudo ethnicity suffer from a hereditary chromosomal abnormality, which has posed significant demographic and population problems in Gerudo history; ninety-eight percent of the Gerudo population is female. Advances in genetic manipulation in the realm of medical treatment have marginally increased the rate at which male children are born, but Gerudo still remains predominantly female.

*****

Author’s Note: I’m really sorry about the late update. I had intended to make this chapter something of a breather episode for Link, a chance for him to catch his breath what with our roller coaster ride since Chapter One, but it turned out to be something of a breather for me instead. Aside from real life problems (including one bout of illness bad enough to put me on my back for a while and a surgery operation), this chapter was quite hard for me to write, if only because I had to write about nothing in particular, trying to depict Link relaxing…and I admit I’m not actually very good when writing without an actual focus. Subsequent chapter updates will hopefully be more frequent than this.

Before I am lynched for bringing up the possibility of a Link and Jessica ship (I can probably see the fangirls out for my blood, daring to pair the Hero of Time with some random original character), I want to simply add that this is not a shipping fic. I do admit that I have a slight inclination for a Link and Zelda ship – if only because I’m boring and like the most obvious and generic ships – but romance has never been what the Zelda games were about, and I see no reason why I should try to make it so. This is really just a symptom of what I call the Zelda formula, Link attracting the affections of just about every random girl with a name. Note that what I just said above is not any form of conclusive indicator of who Link will eventually end up with romantically, if he ends up with anyone at all. By the way, yes, when I said Jessica wore a sarashi, I did mean the Japanese sarashi. Go on and Google – or, better yet, find it on TV Tropes – if you don’t know what it is.

As you can probably tell, the next chapter will be the start of a new storyarc. In fact, it will be in the next chapter that you will probably definitely be able to figure out which part of the “Zelda formula” we’re currently on. For now, hang tight; Chapter Seven will be coming up soon. Hopefully.

Per usual, thanks go out to the usual subjects for their avid proofreading and reviewing. I will try to be more avid in my thanks next time around as well.

nice chapter I think its a breather for anyone reading this, can't wait for the next one because of the new arc anyway keep up the good work

Thanks; hopefully, the next chapter will come sooner. XD

Here is Chapter Seven.

*****

Chapter Seven

“Attention,” came the call from a random Gerudo general – Zelda could not see whom from behind the standing crowd of military personnel – as everyone barring the Hylian delegation suddenly stood at attention, each of them rigid and sharp as, from the far end of the conference room, Generalissimo Ganondorf strode firmly in, his gait strong and imposing, as he was escorted by an armed escort. As a foreign sovereign invited to a military briefing, Zelda was not required to stand, especially not under such military settings, and chose not to as a means as to convey a certain subtext. The other members of her delegation, Impa and Leonore, followed their crown princess’ example. Link was one of the two exceptions, standing right beside Zelda largely because he had always remained standing as her shield since he had entered the room. Jessica was the other on the basis of technicality; she stayed with the Hylian delegation as the MICO agent responsible for their security, but under the Gerudo chain of command. She stood at attention as well.

At the closer end of the table, Ganondorf took a seat, followed immediately by his senior staff, the highest-ranking generals, and several other military officers. Officers and aides who did not have a seat remained standing. It was not the first time Zelda had been here, and she noted the difference between the room she was in now and the briefing room back in Hyrule City every time she came here. For starters, this briefing room was not located underground, but near the very heart of Fort Garuda, only two floors down from the diplomatic suites. In fact, Fort Garuda did not have much in terms of underground areas; the fort itself was fortified enough to justify the lack of subterranean defenses. The room was also decidedly pragmatic, designed in a manner unlike a small amphitheater, complete with a slanting floor. All the swiveling seats in the room arranged to face the far wall, equipped with a large monitor. The walls were made of stone and steel, but those materials were hidden behind waxed and decorated wooden panels that effectively worked like wallpaper. Zelda herself, as well as Impa and Leonore, took the side of the front row, sitting no more than half a dozen seats away from Ganondorf himself, at the center of the front row, where he was still grandly dressed in military regalia.

Perhaps the strangest sensation of all, however, was the fact that almost everyone here was female. The top brass, various aides, officers…they were all women. The realization that this was a very military briefing enhanced the feeling, seeing long-haired females dressed in uniforms that clearly indicated very high rank. Zelda realized that she was stereotyping a bit – after all, it was only natural that a nation made of an ethnicity with a chromosomal abnormality that caused ninety-eight percent of all children to be born female would have a mostly female military – but the crown princess still found it a stark contrast to her own Hyrule, where the brass was almost completely male. In fact, Zelda, out of this congregation of what she guessed was two dozen, maybe a bit more, she could only spot three men: Link, Ganondorf, and a standing man who had the look of a relatively low-level military aide.

It was after looking around that Ganondorf asked with a slight frown and in a rumbling voice, “Where’s Sydney?”

Someone in the front row cleared her throat; Zelda recognized the woman to be the Chairwoman of the Armed Defense Staff, General Meryl, from old briefing photos, a withering woman now into her sixties and carrying what seemed to be either a large cane or a staff, which rested in between her legs as she remained sitting. “Defense Minister Sydney was in Leh when the position was attacked,” she explained. “She was evacuated and is currently being flown to Garuda, but cannot attend this meeting via videoconference.”

Ganondorf sighed, nodded in tired acceptance of this fact. “Then we’ll have to proceed without her.” He turned to a woman sitting on the opposite end of the front row from Zelda, asked, “Have you distributed the briefing packets, Director Emi?”

The woman Ganondorf addressed was a middle-aged woman with shoulder-length mousy dry hair that seemed to give it a slightly messy quality, as if the entire thing had shriveled like a broom. She notably wore an eyepatch over her left eye; that single characteristic – above even her distinguishing white and red robes – allowed Zelda to remember that this woman was, in fact, Director Emi of Gerudo’s Military Intelligence Coordination Office, and that the loss of her left eye was the direct result of her surviving a car bomb many years ago. “Yes, generalissimo,” she answered. Her voice was slightly hoarse, a side effect of damaged vocal cords from the same bomb that claimed her left eye. She had what seemed like a perpetual scowl on her face, as if she was constantly annoyed by something, a clear contrast to Leonore’s serene and bemused expression. Link also noticed that Emi sometimes spared strange glances at Jessica that made the young MICO agent shrivel; it was difficult to read the expression, though, not when Emi’s default face was that of irritation. Privately, he curiously wondered if the MICO director was one of those aforementioned individuals giving Jessica a hard time with her position in MICO.

“Ladies and gentlemen, before we start, I’d like to first formally introduce Princess Zelda of Hyrule,” Ganondorf spoke in a booming voice even as he turned to his right to gesture to Zelda, who nodded her head politely as two dozen heads turned towards her to acknowledge the presence of the sovereign of Hyrule. “While we have made an official explanation or statement yet, her Highness has vowed a joint-defense in cooperating with Gerudo, and will be, for the time being, operating from here in Fort Garuda. She will be attending our military briefings as well. With her are Chief of Staff Impa and Director of Joint Intelligence Leonore. Please ensure you give them every courtesy you can spare.” His attention returned to Emi. “Director, have you given them briefing packets? I did not inform you that they would be present.”

“Yes, generalissimo,” Emi nodded dutifully, and looked towards Zelda with an expression that almost looked like she dared her to disagree. “As well as supplementary material and references, in case her Highness and her entourage are not familiar with Gerudo military organization and terminology. I had a suspicion that you would bring them to this briefing.” Zelda nodded quietly as to confirm this; she personally found Emi’s preparedness quite professional…and reminded herself that Leonore probably would’ve done the same thing had positions been reversed. Intelligence directors aren’t appointed without reason, the crown princess thought, and silently made a reminder to herself to give Leonore more credit when she could.

For his part, Ganondorf merely nodded stoically in acknowledgment, then gestured with an open hand towards Emi. “Very well. Let’s get started. Please, director.”

Emi took a deep breath as a remote control appeared instantly in her hand – Zelda hadn’t seen that earlier – and the screen at the front of the briefing room quickly showed a strategic map of Gerudo with numerous arrows and lines, presumably indicating offensives and lines of resistance. “As you’re all aware, this meeting has been called in response to the destruction of Army Group Seven in Leh. General statistics can be found on pages one and two of your briefing packet. We don’t have a specific figure yet, due to the speed we deployed the Army Group and not having stopped to make a full accounting, but initial estimates based on the original size of the battalion and the survivors we’ve managed to recover show that we’ve lost approximately seven hundred soldiers this morning, killed or missing.”

Sharp intakes of breath and assorted murmurs of alarm were sudden and abrupt; heads swiveled and eyes exchanged startled glances as the new sank in. Seven hundred killed in the morning when offenses had begun to die down. Not only was the number staggering, but each of the officers in the room knew of Gerudo military deployment doctrines…and how large of a hole that left in the main line of resistance.

“The end result is that Army Group Thirteen currently has both its flanks completely exposed in a salient leading nowhere that must be defended,” Emi continued, clearing her throat to silence the din. “They withstood an artillery shelling followed by a ground assault this morning, but are currently at half battle strength.” She turned to her briefing packet, and several heads subconsciously followed that lead. “Commanding officer Colonel Vicky has been killed in action, and has been replaced by Lieutenant Colonel Zia of the same army group. Reserves, four hundred strong, are currently being deployed from Suleman, but that is only a temporary holding action. We’re struggling to establish more sufficient supply lines to Leh, which will take another two or three days, to make up for the loss in equipment. That is sufficient time for an enemy follow-up attack that Army Group Thirteen is not likely to be able to withstand.”

Ganondorf thoughtfully placed a hand upon his chin. “Assuming that a tactical withdrawal is an option on the table, would there be anything important there we’d be leaving behind?”

“Abandoning Leh compromises the supply line for Army Group Six in Sitara,” General Meryl quickly spoke before Emi could put forth a response, “but they can last another four, five days without additional supplies. And I’m certain we can rework another supply line through Haider in two days, maybe even tomorrow night.”

It was possibly that Emi seemed irate at being interrupted, but didn’t give any immediately noticeable sign towards it. “As outlined in page six,” she started, and pages immediately began to turn around the room, “Leh is the primary source of civilian power for the population centers in Karachi, which, as you all know, is currently being used by the enemy for their main line of resistance. The reactors have been shut down – although not scrapped – after Karachi was taken by the enemy in an effort to prevent them from gaining access to our power grids. Although it’ll take several days if Valentine forces intend to convert the civilian power plants for any sort of appreciable military use, we’d still be leaving infrastructure very open to them.”

“So would it be advisable to lock down or destroy the power plants should the need for withdrawal be paramount?” asked the Generalissimo.

Again, Meryl was the one who provided the answer. “Not necessarily. We’re only two days into this war, and nothing has been very decisive yet. No one can give a very good guess as to how our forces will perform for the next few days until the dust has settled a bit more and we start making more logistical progress. Making premature plans as to whether or not we’re going to destroy the power plant is moot when we cannot give any good promise as to whether or not we can take back Leh anytime soon.”

“Is it possible to lock down the Leh power plants, make them unusable to the enemy without having to destroy them?”

Emi closed her eye and shook her head. “No, generalissimo. The Leh power grid is a civilian one; they were not required to install the Noman-Rao Override. We cannot force a computerized lockdown of Leh’s power plants.”

“An additional consideration is the fact that Leh largely powers Karachi,” said a high-ranked official in the back row who wore the uniform and colors of the Gerudo air force. Zelda could not spot an insignia from that range beyond too many heads, although judging by where he sat in the briefing room and the somewhat surprised reaction at her words, Zelda ventured a guess that the officer was likely outranked by almost everyone in the room. “If we destroy it, we also cripple the civilian infrastructure in the occupied area. I would advise leaving the power plants as they are. We can always authorize long-range air or artillery strikes if they prove to be a problem.”

“I agree, generalissimo,” Emi seemed supportive of the idea…perhaps too immediately supportive. Zelda wondered if there were beneath-the-table office politics at work here. “And in the event that we may need to destroy the power plants later on, the infrastructure failure may entice the population in Karachi into an uprising against the Valentine occupation, when they have no easy access to water and electricity. This will be especially effective the later we do it, as Valentine troops begin to grow weary and fatigued.”

“Which is the same state our own forces will be in,” Ganondorf muttered with a deep sigh, but he seemed to be sold on the idea, confirmed by his following orders. “Give Army Group Thirteen authorization for a tactical withdrawal as soon as they are reinforced by reserves. Tell their CO that she has full discretion as to whether or not the army group is to retreat, but leave the Leh power grid untouched. Stand their ground if they can, but survival is top priority. It will be a fighting withdrawal, not a full strategic retreat.” The look in his eyes turned even flintier than it was before. “I want Valent to have to fight for every centimeter of our land.”

“Yes, generalissimo,” someone Zelda couldn’t see on the other end of the room – presumably an army general – responded immediately.

Nodding in satisfaction, Generalissimo Ganondorf inhaled deeply, pressed his lips together, fired a sidelong, meaningful glance at Director Emi. “Now that we have a defensive plan, it’s time to tackle the heart of the problem…how an entire army group can be wiped out in the space of a morning.”

Again, Emi took a deep breath before speaking, a telltale sign that the news she was about to deliver wasn’t good. “MICO intercepted enemy radio transmission that pointed to a weapon codenamed ‘Anansi’,” she said sharply. “Current evidence suggests that this weapon is what caused the destruction of Army Group Seven. MICO liaisons were able to recover a video recording from one of Army Group Seven’s battle cameras on-site, and our headquarters has received and processed this recording an hour ago. It depicts their attempt to defend in this weapon, an effort that resulted in…” there was a pause as Emi’s lips pressed tightly together to form a thin, pale line, twitched once at the corner, then, unable to come up with a better term for the situation at hand, finished slowly, “…failure.” And, with that, Emi turned to the screen once more, and the remote control was aimed and clicked; the forward screen displayed what seemed like a low-quality video recording, probably taken by a helmet camera of an infantryman.

By no means was the video even decently recorded; the resolution was barely high enough, and it kept shaking as the recording infantrywoman ran, her camera bouncing up and down with each footstep, turning left and right along with the head as the soldier looked to her sides to ensure her flanks were secure. It was clearly daytime, however, and clearly out in the desert, blue skies matching beige dunes. Voices were nearly drowned out by what sounded like constant gunfire from everywhere, distorted by low-quality audio and mono sound from the briefing room speakers. Tracer fire filled the screen whenever the camera pointed towards the horizon or skywards, and although Zelda couldn’t see where all the firepower was being aimed at, she knew exactly what was going on.

The recording infantrywoman ran towards a low wall, seemingly the remains of an ancient ruin or building, dropped and pressed herself against it with what seemed like a fireteam of three other infantrywoman, two of them carrying rifles, one with a bazooka, all of them decked out in combat fatigues and army helmets. One of them opened her mouth to shout something over the gunfire, but she was interrupted as the sound of an explosion overcame them – the sound was loud and distorted even over the speakers, and the resulting feedback caused a few cringes around the briefing room – and the fireteam ducked and curled just as a cloud of sand and smoke wafted by, revealing an explosion that had come too close to comfort.

“Holly, cover fire on my mark!” one of the women shouted practically in front of the camera – apparently, she was a squad leader – as a small column of tanks rolled by. “Bernice, you take Linda, go left to that wall over there.” She pointed, and the camera swiveled to barely capture the outline of a similar low wall about fifteen meters away. “Get her to send a rocket up this thing’s ass. On my mark!” The fireteam leader held up three fingers, which dropped one by one as she counted down. “Three! Two! One!” And, immediately, the fireteam leader and another woman – presumably “Holly”, stood up, leaning against the top of the low wall as their assault rifles came to bear, firing over their cover and into the air as “Linda”, the one carrying the bazooka, ran right past the camera before the camera itself turned as “Bernice” stood and began firing in the same direction, providing cover fire for Linda, both of them running towards the low wall.

It was as Bernice provided covering fire, barrel of the assault rifle appearing at the bottom of the screen and flashing with fully automatic fire, that the crowd took a deep breath at the sight at the center of the screen. Most of them thought it was a recording error at first, a glitch, or perhaps the unfortunate side effect of recording a battlefield on a low-resolution camera. But as orange lines of fire – from assault rifles, machine guns, tank rounds – and contrails of smokes – exhaust from rockets and missiles – filled the screen like a clear starry night, connecting and harmlessly impacting against and bouncing off what seemed like a massive sphere in the air, the occupants of the room slowly came to realize that what they were seeing was not an illusion at all, but something very real. The metallic sphere, at least twenty meters in diameter, flashed with light across its diameter, the sign of fully automatic chain guns clicking away, sending a hail of bullets in almost every direction, many of them striking down scores of Gerudo infantrywomen caught in the line of fire, scores of soldiers being cut down in an instant. Contrails of smoke erupted from the top of the sphere and missiles were launched into the air. Painfully slow seconds passed before, with resounding explosions, columns of tanks were mercilessly drowned out by impacting top-attack missiles, lines of armored vehicles disappearing in a column of flames. It moved swiftly across the landscape, across the Gerudo main line of defense with frightening speed – almost too fast to be believed for a vehicle of that size, and certainly much faster than a tank, humvee, or any military vehicle. And where it moved, death accompanied; chain gun fire and missiles flew from that sphere, supported by four massive pillars that made up its legs, vehicles turning into scrap metal and entire squads falling lifeless onto the dunes. The entire thing was unloading firepower worthy of a heavenly arsenal.

Zelda, having only realized that she was anxiously holding her breath, realized exactly what that thing – “Anansi” – was: The spider-tank that had pursued them in Hyrule City. Either it was now here in Gerudo…or, an even worse possibility, there were more than one of them.

It wasn’t just the Gerudo army group – Army Group Seven, Emi said – that was firing. The horizon also flashed with pinpricks of light; rifles, cannons, and artillery pieces on the other side of the main line of resistance answered in kind, launching a massive hail of fire against Gerudo lines even as Anansi wreaked havoc against the defending army group.

Anansi temporarily disappeared from the screen as Bernice and Linda quickly dropped onto the sand and behind the low wall, taking cover as they pressed themselves against it. The camera turned sporadically between Linda setting up the bazooka and Anansi in the distance. Another salvo of missiles flew up into the air from its top as the armored walker swiftly sidestepped lines of light aimed towards it, and, moments later, the missiles turned in the air and came dropping down on nearly two dozen tanks on the ground, turning them into scrap metal several explosions later. The camera turned again; Linda perched her bazooka over the low wall, aiming the barrel at the walker. A moment later, the screen was obscured with smoke for an instant before a contrail of smoke tailed a rocket streaking its way towards Anansi. It twisted in midair a few times before – just two hundred meters away, the walker having moved there while they were seeking cover – impacting against the metallic sphere, creating an explosion of smoke that barely obscured the walker…and seemingly did no damage against it. Or perhaps it created a dent, but the video resolution was too low to capture it. Watching, Zelda doubted it, though; considering that a shower of firepower had yet to impair Anansi’s performance, it was unlikely that a measly shoulder-launched rocket could do much to it.

Linda muttered something, but, over the gunfire and explosions in the background, Zelda couldn’t hear what she said. Neither could Bernice, apparently, as a voice shouted out, “I can’t hear you!”

“Not a scratch!” Linda made an effort to shout this time, reloading her launcher with another rocket. “Cover me; I’m going to go try to…” Yet another explosion rocked the camera, both Bernice and Linda cringing. Bernice barely managed to turn her head – and the helmet camera, by extension – around quickly enough to catch a glimpse of an expanding cloud of dust, the aftereffect of an explosion, looming around the low wall where their squadmates had been seeking cover before. A loose formation of tanks had set up firing positions just right of them…and when Anansi had fired its anti-tank missiles, they detonated against the tanks…much too close to the other two members of the fireteam, caught in the blast.

Bernice uttered a harsh expletive at the sight, a sentiment interrupted only by a hail of chain gun fire suddenly flying all around her – Zelda could hear the whizzing of each bullet that came way too close even through the poor digitalized recording – and Bernice quickly ducked even further against the wall, seeking cover.

“Cover me!” Linda shouted just before Bernice turned around to look at her. “I’m going to try to outflank the bastard, see if I can get a better shot!” Without waiting for a reply, Linda quickly ran to the left once more…just as a column of Gerudo tanks passed by. What sounded vaguely like a screamed warning had barely left Bernice’s lips when the screen suddenly filled with fire and smoke for an instant before static replaced it for a few startling seconds. When the picture finally returned, the camera was pointed skywards, the lens cracked down the middle, and a third of the screen filled with what seemed to be blood. Gunfire and explosions continued to streak across the air, accompanied by the occasional meteor shower of flying missiles. Occasional ragged, tortured breaths could be heard, presumably Bernice trying very hard to breathe after being mortally wounded by anti-tank missiles that had destroyed a column of Gerudo tanks passing right by Linda and herself. It sounded like cracked wheezing…painful, broken sobs. Listening to it suddenly made Zelda feel very nauseous and very self-conscious…and, looking around, she could tell by the difficult, pained expressions on many a woman around her that she was not alone in this thought. Emi, having realized this, keyed the remote control; the audio feed went mute and the speakers fell silent before she continued the briefing. The recording still played, although it was only of orange and white lines dividing the blue sky.

“As indicated in page three of your briefing packets,” Emi cleared her throat before continuing her explanation dispassionately, ignoring the fact that it took several uncertain seconds before the shaken attendees could remove their gaze from the ghastly one-sided battle being played on screen and hesitantly flip through the briefing packet, “the video identified seven chain gun emplacements of an unspecified caliber, although geometric analysis suggests the presence of at least three more chain guns the camera did not catch, and on-site MICO liaisons say that the rounds are likely to be point-fifties, judging by the wreckages and corpses in the area. We’re also looking at a minimum of twenty-four missile ports on the top of the main body, top-attack anti-tank missiles, capable of putting down a large group of tanks easily. It has the offensive capability to effectively engage practically any ground target, whether it is infantry or armored. Furthermore, watching the firing patterns of each weapon, it is safe to say that the weapons systems are either completely automated or computer-assisted, seeing how they can rapidly target many, many different targets at once. The main body is twenty-two meters in diameter in a near-perfect sphere. Judging by how well the weapon held together when attacked, and by looking at how four legs were able to support its weight, we’re making a guess that we’re looking at very thick battle armor, most likely an allotrope of titanium or carbon. Tank shells mostly ricochet off its solid shell, and missiles cause minimal damage. The top speed of Anansi as seen by the video is approximately three hundred kilometers per hour; we don’t know if it can achieve higher speeds.” Emi paused just long enough to register the fact that the import of this news had rendered the entire room into stunned, horrified silence. With a deep breath, she allowed, “This weapon is an army-killer.”

On the front display, the camera was still recording the sky, but firepower was not longer being rapidly exchanged. Only occasionally was a stray tracer round or missile seen on screen. Clearly, the battle was beginning to wind down…if only because of a lack of people to fire or fire upon. Gerudo Army Group Seven was being inexorably wiped out.

When a general sitting behind Ganondorf spoke, she did so in a quiet, slightly-choked tone that betrayed her shock…and possibly her grief. “Does it have any potential weaknesses?”

There was a long moment of silence – possibly members of the Gerudo war pavilion waking up from their personal nightmares – before the air force officer spoke up once more. “A-Air strikes may be a possible option,” she answered after a slight false start. “But that’s only if the Valentine air force isn’t flying top cover; we don’t have the manpower, resources, or the technology to go head-to-head…toe-to-toe for air superiority. Furthermore, we’d be looking at using large payloads, bombs or missiles that can devastate an entire region…which may have to be used on our own soil, especially if the enemy has it positioned near a population center.”

“The bad news doesn’t end there.” The MICO director sounded strangely in control of her voice and temperament; either she had watched this recording enough and already had time to get over this overwhelming revelation…or she was a simply a woman who refused to lose her cool. “Further intelligence suggests that Anansi isn’t the only anti-army weapon Valent has. The latest communiqués have alluded to the codenames ‘Jormungand’ and ‘Quetzalcoatl’. We did not know what these codenames were referring to when we intercepted them, but with Anansi…well.” She uncomfortably twitched her mouth again. “MICO is led to believe that Jormungand and Quetzalcoatl are very likely Valentine anti-army weapons as well.”

The director was met with yet another round of silence and wide-eyed stares. A weapon codenamed Anansi had already effortlessly decimated an army group…and now intelligence has revealed that there were also two more weapons? It was a terrifically horrifying thought. Only Leonore, Link, Ganondorf, and Emi seemed nonplussed and stoic at this new piece of information. And it seemed that the occupants of the room would never snap out of it…until somewhere in the back of the room, a pen rolled off a desk and dropped to the floor with a sharp clatter, and the sudden gasps from the military brass would’ve been hilarious had circumstances been more rewarding.

The first reaction that was one of outrage as one general behind Zelda banged a fist against the table in front of her. “This is absolutely unacceptable!” she shrieked uncomfortably close to the crown princess’ ear. “How the hell can Valent construct these things and MICO not even notice?”

If anything else, Emi seemed appropriately annoyed more than threatened or scared. “General, this is obviously Valent’s trump card,” she drawled impatiently. “It’s only logical that they kept this very, very close to the chest within very inner circles.”

“I agree with Director Emi,” Leonore suddenly interjected and unexpectedly, and eyes swiveled to stare at her. This included Zelda – surprised that Leonore would speak at a briefing without being asked – and Emi – who seemed either suspicious of or amused by support from a foreign intelligence agency’s director. “Joint Intelligence had received absolutely no clue of these weapons’ existence. It’s clear Valent went with a complete information blackout on this one.”

As if to defuse the situation, Ganondorf quickly followed right after the director of Joint Intelligence, looking at the screen and moving back to matters pragmatic. “I’m curious of the secret behind this weapon’s effectiveness,” he mused aloud. “I thought it’s a belief held amongst most theorists that walker vehicles are largely impractical.”

“Bipedal walker vehicles, generalissimo,” the general behind Ganondorf that had asked about Anansi’s potential weakness replied; her voice was much more stable this time, having recovered from the initial shock and disbelief. “Theorists are much more divided on quadruped walker vehicles. The theory, of course, is that a walker would be able to navigate uneven terrain much more effectively than, say, a tank or a humvee. The counterargument is that taking out one of its legs is enough to cripple one of these walkers.”

“Just as taking out a tire or a tread can cripple a tank or a humvee,” the generalissimo muttered thoughtfully.

“That’s true, generalissimo, but they’re also much easier to replace than, say, a leg. Legs are also larger, much more of a target.”

“But the legs seem to be reinforced, much more heavily armored,” noted Emi. “Plus they have extra supporting struts, makes destroying the joints of the walker just as difficult as destroy the legs itself.”

Meryl cleared her throat – perhaps an unnecessary motion, but it certainly caught everyone’s attention, even if Emi’s eye rolled once – before speaking. “I think the real question we want to address here is just how they’re powering this…” She waved her hand in the air at the screen, struggling to recall the weapon’s name. “…Anansi. Emi, please rewind.” The director complied, and the digital recorded flowed backwards, pausing upon command when the spider walker was once again on screen. “Look at this thing. Three hundred kilometers per hour for a colossal machine with four massive legs. Chain gun emplacements, top-attack missiles…and now we’re talking about computer-assisted targeting systems.” She looked around incredulously. “Is it even possible to create a reactor that small to provide that much energy?”

“The main body is twenty-two meters in diameter,” an officer on the far end of the room noted. “Plenty of room.”

“Twenty-two meters including armor,” the general behind Zelda scowled. “Judging by how well this thing took tank shells and missiles, I’m saying this thing looks like its armor is…I don’t know. Half a meter thick? A meter? Maybe more?”

“Army engineering already has a copy of the video, general,” Emi curtly answered. “They’re still running simulations in conjunction with MICO, but the initial assumption is that the armor is likely to be somewhere between one and a half to two meters thick. That leaves plenty of room for a pilot, a reactor, computer systems, plenty of ammunition…” She trailed off; the rest could be left unspoken.

“We saw how much firepower that thing was packing,” Meryl sounded terse, if not impatient and irate. “And I think we all have an idea of how much room it needs to store missiles, bullets, a pilot or two…but that doesn’t nearly give enough room for an engine. What kind of engine would be small enough to tuck into all that and yet still be able to power that kind of monster?”

The response came from an unexpected source. “No engine model comes to mind, I fear,” Zelda spoke in a dignified voice, and, immediately, heads swiveled to look upon the Hylian head of state, many of them beginning to assess whether Zelda – an unknown factor to Gerudo’s war pavilion – had a sound mind worthy of the rumors surrounding her, or was merely a princess taking the opportunity to play soldier. “Not even Hyrule has been able to build a compact engine of that kind of envisioned size and that kind of power output. Not even close.” She paused as the gears in her head began to spin, making connections with other facts she knew, and continued very slowly and thoughtfully. “Theoretically, this may be possible with the assistance of a very small but very powerful battery…” Another pause, before she exhaled deeply, having made that final connection in her mind, murmured, “…Which could’ve been charged days ago.” She turned to the DJI seated beside her. “Director Leonore?”

Leonore caught on to the cue, began to speak in her smooth, resonate voice. “This Monday, our Office of Long-Range Electronic Reconnaissance detected a surge of enemy coming from three different sources in Valent, all of them military bases, one army, one naval, one air force. MICO confirmed that with us, but, at the time, we had no idea what it was for. The numbers we received were at least twenty-three terawatts, maybe much more.” Then, reminded of the initial reactions displayed by Hylian army staff, swiftly added, “Terawatts, for those who aren’t familiar, are what we measure continental energy consumption and usage with on a year basis. As far as we know, none of us are even close to developing technology with that kind of power level.”

“So let me make sure I’m still on the right track,” Ganondorf quickly spoke above the din of alarmed mutterings across the room, a frown evident on her face as she looked squarely at the Hylian delegation. “Valent develops a power source that is completely unrivaled by anything we’ve ever accomplished. Three of them, in fact, on military bases that we are assuming powered and breathed life into these weapons in the first place. And now we’ve seen one, codenamed Anansi. Director Leonore, you said the bases they were powered at were army, navy, and air force, yes?”

“Yes, generalissimo,” the director responded.

“That means the other two, Jormungand and Quetzalcoatl, are likely to be some sort of naval and aerial weapon, if we assume Anansi is a ground-based weapon. Looking at Anansi alone, we are looking at a machine capable of destroying an armored army group, with speeds up to three hundred kilometers per hour, impervious to tank shells and missiles…” an edge began to grow in the generalissimo’s voice, filled with disbelief, incredulity, and dissatisfaction, “…and the best option I have on the table right now is an air strike that is not likely to work if Valent has air superiority?”

The general behind Ganondorf spoke first. “We could always consider putting together three army groups into a special coalition dedicated to hunting down these weapons, generalissimo, fast-responders…”

One of Ganondorf’s red eyebrows arched dramatically. “By tracking a target that can move faster than any of our tanks and can lay waste to any point of the main line of resistance in five minutes?”

“Generalissimo,” the general remained undeterred. “I believe further engagements with this Anansi can reveal more about its attack patterns, how it’s deployed, how it works, how the enemy uses it strategically…”

A sneer came from behind Zelda. “While they tear our forces apart and allows for an even faster advance? Use your head.” The princess swiftly decided that she did not like the belligerent, antagonistic military leader seated behind her.

“Enough of that,” Ganondorf scowled sternly before softening his voice once more to address the assembly in general. “So direct combat is something that should be avoided.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily say so, generalissimo,” came a new voice three seats to Zelda’s right, and the princess saw an army officer who curiously did not wear an insignia denoting rank. “Anything falls when hit with enough firepower. If our troops are more prepared, they know this weapon exists, we can make this a priority target. Heavy firepower, everything hitting that thing, including long-range artillery support.”

“Maybe,” Ganondorf allowed, “but the problem is how well we can field that firepower. In the meantime, with the kind of speed this weapon can pull off, it’s likely the enemy will be able to choose their engagements. They can easily choose to fight battles where we don’t have enough time to bring weapons to bear.”

“Perhaps, but that does not mean we should not make an effort to make an active defense, generalissimo. This may very well be a chance for us to create a fully mobile army group, something we’ve been wanting to put into effect for some time.”

“That would put a huge strain on resources,” Meryl noted, disapproval reflected in her voice. “How much manpower and weaponry would have to be diverted? How would this kind of unit resupply when actively patrolling the main line of resistance? These are questions we’ve never found a good answer to.”

“I believe those worries are justified,” agreed the general behind Ganondorf. “We can ill afford to let an entire army group run willy-nilly, let alone one that’s the size of three.”

It was clear that the generalissimo was becoming impatient with all the fruitless debate around him. “I’m tasking all generals present to submit a report on the logistics of running a fully mobile army group if we are pressed to make one,” he interrupted tersely, and the room fell silent, noting his mood. “I’m not confirming whether or not it will happen until I see that report. In the meantime, I do want a strategy report on my desk by tomorrow morning for my approval, detailing heightened strategic defenses at airbases.” He turned towards the air force officer in the back, nodded. “If air strikes seem to be the best option so far, I want that option to still be a possibility, however ineffective it may be. I’m making Anansi top priority, along with Jormungand and Quetzalcoatl as soon as we can identify them. Ensure the enemy can’t overrun our airbases.” His attention turned back towards the military brass in general. “In the meantime, I do want a task force created to be on the lookout for this weapon; the earlier we know where the weapon will hit, the earlier we can launch our planes into the skies to hit that thing, the higher our chances of success.”

Speaking for her staff, the chairwoman of Gerudo’s Armed Defense Staff nodded curtly. “It will be done, generalissimo.”

“Director Emi, MICO will be charged with keeping track of all enemy communications, finding out if you can gleam any more information on Anansi and the other Valentine weapons.”

“Yes, generalissimo,” Emi replied.

“Generalissimo,” the air force officer in the back suddenly called out, “in light of the existence of these weapons, I believe there is the need to cement a team effort with Hylian armed forces if we are to hope to field any good answer against the Valentine superweapons.” Contrary to her expectations, however, several eyes slowly turned towards her, casting the officer unreadable glances that suddenly told the air force woman that she had asked a question that wasn’t supposed to be. Somehow, Zelda got the feeling that she was being left out on something that had already been decided upon, and although Leonore showed no signs of picking up on such a sign, the princess decided that the director must’ve noticed it too. Even Impa seemed intrigued, although Link’s stoicism made it hard to tell as to whether or not the agent figured anything out.

“Perhaps.” Something in Ganondorf’s voice convinced Zelda that the generalissimo wanted to move ahead and past this question as soon as possible. “But until we can actually establish a concrete line of communication with Hylian forces, I want to first cement the framework of a worst-case scenario. Plan for the worst, hope for the best. The rest will come with time.”

It was clear that pressing the issue at this briefing was not going to solve anything; being impolite in front of so many people – especially the military brass – was going to impede their diplomatic relations more than it was going to answer Zelda’s questions. A private inquiry could be made later, although, in truth, she knew the answers to her questions, and merely wanted to let Ganondorf that she knew of his intentions…which, of course, would be exactly what he wanted. It was the unspoken language in geopolitics that they were so fluent in; there were only so many moves and countermoves one could make in any given situation, and both heads of state were too cunning the statesman to make anything but the best choices.

In the meantime, some face-saving was probably in order, and – perhaps in an effort to leave the military leaders here clueless – Zelda cleared her throat, and the room’s attention once again turned towards her. “Generalissimo, if I may,” she spoke, and allowed for a moment to pass for the attendees to focus on the sovereign of Hyrule. “I would like to pose a question I haven’t heard yet: Why hasn’t the enemy pressed its advantage? Clearly, Anansi could’ve done a lot more than just destroy one army group if it did so to one in five minutes. It could’ve moved further into Gerudo lines, or maybe just skirting the line, doing more damage. Why didn’t it?”

Thoughtful glances and curious murmurs were exchanged through the room. “Maybe we damaged something?” someone – an army colonel – suggested.

“Didn’t look that way,” muttered another officer just loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Or, alternatively, Anansi need to head back to resupply,” came yet another suggestion. It was clear that the discussion had become a living creature all on its own, and that these were not answers to the question Zelda posed as much as it was a reorganizing of thoughts for the entire Gerudo war staff. Ganondorf himself seemed intrigued, a hand cupping his chin once more as he looked contemplatively at his Hylian counterpart.

Hearing the answer she wanted, the princess continued, “Assuming that the resupplying scenario is the case, we are likely to be looking at a significant amount of time being inactive in Valentine territory, probably at an outpost or a base. It’s also likely that this is when it’s most vulnerable. In this case, we could always try an infiltration mission, send one soldier behind enemy lines to sabotage the weapon.”

Again, a rising din pervaded the chamber, heated discussion amongst each and every individual and those who sat near thinking aloud and sharing their opinions, weighing them against Zelda’s own. Some of them were beginning to warm to the idea; others had frowns that clearly showed doubt or disapproval. Zelda noticed that Leonore was hiding a grin as she pretended to suddenly be fascinated by her fingernails; the princess could only guess that the DJI had long thought of this approach, but had let everyone else try to figure it out by themselves. Again, an inherent annoyance towards the director rose within Zelda, a feeling that Leonore was being holier-than-thou and comfortable in her arrogance. Then, remembering her earlier private commitment to give the director more credit, she swallowed that feeling down. No need to start enmity here.

The general behind Zelda spoke loudly above the heated debates, and it was clear that protocol – the demand for politeness in front of a foreign head of state – was the only thing that kept her from remarking on what she perceived to be Zelda’s poor military sense. “If Army Group Seven could barely stand up against Anansi,” she quipped, barely managing to stifle what would’ve otherwise been a condescending smirk, “I’d hardly think one woman could make a difference, your Highness.”

Zelda, for her part, remained impassive and dignified. “Not necessarily. It seems rather clear to me that Anansi is mostly an anti-army weapon instead of an anti-personnel weapon. Its armaments are clearly meant for something more along the lines of inflicting damage across a wide area as opposed to actually targeting any one enemy with surgical precision. When I ran into Anansi in Hyrule City…”

“Excuse me, your Highness,” came the sudden interruption from Director Emi, her voice incredulous and filled with suspicion in disbelief. In hindsight, that was probably what her voice sounded like all the time. “You saw Anansi in Hyrule City?” Whereas Zelda had expected more discussion amongst the staff at these words, the room actually fell strangely silent as everyone strained to hear the princess’ answer.

“Yes, assuming that this is the same Anansi and not another weapon of the same model.” Zelda suppressed a shudder at this possibility; the idea of Valent possessing more than one of these superweapons was a thought too terrible for her to want to consider. “From what I’ve seen so far, even its chain guns have a notorious lack of accuracy; they’re meant to coat an area with gunfire, not to actually pick off targets. Plus the infiltrating soldier would largely be destroying the weapon when it’s refueling or resupplying or…something.” She shrugged. “We could always stick with the ‘explosives in the cockpit’ plan, to keep things simple. In the event that we conduct the sabotage mission in an enemy base, it is unlikely that the weapon will be active in the first place.”

The most brilliant minds of Gerudo’s war pavilion shared thoughts aloud once more, but it was clear this time by the tone of voices and the words exchanged that the general consensus towards this analysis was favorable. “Her Highness does have a point, your Majesty,” Meryl nodded to her generalissimo, and although her voice was soft, the entire room instantly fell silent to hear what the second-highest-ranking military officer in Gerudo had to say of the matter. “I believe it has a higher chance of success than anything else suggested at the moment.”

Ganondorf finally leaned forward, his hands clasping together as he laid his elbows on the table before him, looking stoically at Zelda with a respectful nod of his head. “A sound plan, your Highness,” he permitted slowly, then, just when he seemed to be finished, added suddenly, “…with just one problem. Gerudo does not have any military special forces that are trained to be deployed undercover and alone behind enemy lines for this type of covert operation.”

“Excuse me.” It was Impa who suddenly spoke up, raising a hand, and attention turned to this new voice, this new unknown factor. “I’m aware of Gerudo’s lack of special forces, but I’m wondering why there is such a lack.”

Uncomfortable glances were shared – this was, admittedly, a bit of an unavoidable embarrassment to the Gerudo military as a whole – as Meryl cleared her throat before providing the explanation. “Recruitment of military forces, as well as day-to-day management, is largely the responsibility of the Gerudo provinces, something that the central government does not often get involved in. As I’m sure you know, each Gerudo province has a certain extent of autonomous powers, although the political climate in the last century has made it so that these provinces are…” Her mouth twitched once; Meryl’s loyalties laid with Ganondorf, and she was not particularly fond of how military loyalty sometimes spread itself over the provinces of Gerudo. “…overprotective, let’s say, of their autonomy. In preparation for a potential need for defense, each province recruits and organizes their military forces to best optimize itself for conventional frontline combat in the event of civil war.” She shrugged ruefully. “Which, unfortunately, is distressingly common in Gerudo, as I’m sure you all know.”

“Plus the natural geography of Gerudo makes special or covert operations difficult in a battlefield environment, if not impractical,” added the general behind the Hylian delegation, although when she spoke, her tone was not unkindly…at least, until it dabbed in a bit of contempt with the remainder of her explanation. “It’s something we generally leave to MICO, but they’re mostly just an information-gathering office as opposed to clandestine paramilitary. They don’t have special operations outfits capable of providing someone for a deep-insertion solo-man op any more than we do.”

“And, as far as we’ve been informed,” Meryl finished, “Princess Zelda has not been able to make contact with her special forces.”

“But there is someone right here who has official infiltration and sabotage training,” Impa amended, and, oblivious to the sudden alarmed looks that both Zelda and Leonore fired at her, finished, “Agent Link.”

And Link, who had been largely ignored since the entire meeting started and swiftly dismissed as merely “Princess Zelda’s bodyguard” was suddenly the center of scrutiny amongst the entire host of stunned military leaders who suddenly seemed to stare at Link in the same way some in Gerudo who stare at a miracle bestowed upon them by their goddess Dinah. The Joint Intelligence agent, although remaining stoic, suddenly felt the attention he had unintentionally garnered to be extremely uncomfortable, going against everything he had learned about laying low as a field agent, and his fidget was not missed by Zelda, Leonore, or Jessica.

In the stunned quiet, Impa suddenly noticed that both the Hylian crown princess and the director of Joint Intelligence were suddenly glaring at her, and the poor chief of staff had no idea why. She immediately interpreted their looks the wrong way, and quickly supplemented, “I’ve read his personnel dossier when he was first being rotated over to Hyrule Palace. I remember the file saying he was officially certified for infiltration, undercover, and sabotage missions.”

Beside a contemplative Ganondorf, who seemed deep in thought, Meryl spoke to the DJI. “Is this true, Director Leonore?”

Leonore took one look around – as if confirming for herself that there didn’t seem like there was a real way out of this predicament – and subdued a very pressing urge to sigh, a motion that would probably be interpreted for exactly what it was. “It is,” she admitted after a moment’s pause. “Agent Link has had formal training for such, and is cleared for such missions.” She fired another look at Impa, who remained utterly confused.

Although she didn’t exactly seem enthusiastic, Emi’s tone seemed more reasonable than before as she addressed Ganondorf. “Generalissimo, if her Highness is willing to field Agent Link, this may very well become your best option on the table.”

“I agree,” Meryl concurred. “This seems to be the most practical option on the table right now, and it’s something only Hyrule can perform in light of the current situation.”

“But that,” Ganondorf calmly, slowly, deliberately spoke as he locked gazes with Zelda, who, in return, looked stoically back with a poker face, and, immediately, the gazes of everyone in the room became intensely riveted on her, the room exceedingly quiet, “is a decision completely up to her highness.”

The crown princess neither nodded nor shook her head. “And in light of the current situation,” her tone was carefully neutral, “it is a decision I must consider carefully before giving you any reply.” A pause, perhaps thoughtful, perhaps deliberate. “I am aware that a swift reply is favorable.”

“I will be patiently waiting for it, then,” the generalissimo merely nodded coolly in response, and – seeing the princess was not going to raise anymore discussion – turned his attention to the rest of the chamber’s occupants. “Are there any issues at hand, or must we wait until there is further progressing before more discussion is warranted?” His eyes scanned the small crowd of military officers, who otherwise held their silence aside from sporadic muttering and whispering shared amongst several of them seated close enough to each other. The consensus was clear: They weren’t going to be solving anymore problems until more intelligence came in…or until things got worse.

The former was preferable, but all of them knew that the latter was more likely.

Nodding, the generalissimo closed his briefing packet with a single hand before standing, prompting everyone else to rise with him. “Very well,” he breathed heavily in what could’ve, in less formal surroundings, been classified as a sigh. “Briefing adjourned.”

*****

“The generalissimo seemed aversive to discussing the possibility of cooperating with Hylian forces,” Impa remarked as soon as Jessica bowed out after asking if her services were still required and then closed the doors of Zelda’s diplomatic suite. The chief of staff was acutely aware that she had somehow stepped on a few toes back at the briefing – among them the crown princess’ and the director’s – and was eager to divert attention elsewhere lest displeasure towards her rose once more.

All of them were of course aware of the high possibility that the room was bugged with electronic surveillance devices, but the decision had been made to pretend they were not aware of such. And so the delegation of four merely held their words when Jessica and an armed escort brought them back to the suites. Besides, they had to communicate somehow, and prolonged usages of codes or alternative methods of communications would’ve been…suspicious. Now was not the time for them to press Gerudo on the possibility of political blackmail, not when there was a war going on.

Zelda, seated on her couch, leaning against its back, and rubbing the bridge of her nose, seemed more tired than upset, which – for both Link and Impa – reinforced the need to remind her to get more rest. “I’m not surprised,” she murmured as Leonore and Impa took seats opposite of her across the table while Link stood at his usual flanking position by the wall to respond to any possible threat. “It would not be unlikely for me to have done the same had positions been reversed. The generalissimo is too good a politician to allow for this to go too far. Both of us know what is at stake.”

Both Link and Impa exchanged confused glances; in response, Zelda and Leonore exchanged knowing ones. With a geopolitical lecture at hand, the DJI merely shrugged, an indicator that she was more than willing to allow for the head of state to be the teacher this time. Zelda sighed, but otherwise turned towards Link and Impa, an indication for Leonore to still her tongue.

“Neither Ganondorf nor I wish for destabilization to go beyond what is already at hand,” the princess explained. Her hands went for the tea set on the table, and began working on her own cup of tea after shrugging off nonverbal offers from both Leonore and Impa to do so in her stead. “A political tripod is the weakest of all political structures, but, in our case, it is a necessary one. Dividing the continent into three nations of equal power keeps all of us in check. One nation would not antagonize a second nation beyond a certain point in fear of allowing the third nation to exploit advantages and then come in for the coup de grace. Peace, as fragile as it may be, may be maintained that way.”

“I’m aware of the zero-sum game theory,” Impa nodded, although her brows were still creased in a frown; she had not made the step beyond the confines of such a theory. “But Valent has already attacked. Does this not destroy the tripod?”

“Not necessarily.” Zelda put the lid back upon the china teapot, closed her eyes while allowing her back to remain upright. “This war only proves that Valent’s power has grown to a point it stands a good chance – or, at least, they believe they stand a good chance – of keeping both Hyrule and Gerudo in check. I consider it a symptom rather than an outright disease, for the lack of a better metaphor. This war merely shows that one leg of the tripod, the one representing Valent, has grown increasingly long, to the point of possibly tipping over this tripod; the tripod itself has not been tipped over yet.”

The light of understanding was beginning to glow in Impa’s eyes; Link was already one step ahead and knew what his princess had foreseen.

“Like myself, the generalissimo fears the destabilization of this tripod. It is entirely possible for a joint Hyrule-Gerudo effort to be able to defeat Valentine forces.” Then memories of the briefing came back, the realization that they now had three Valentine superweapons to contend with, and Zelda sighed. “Even if it is…unlikely right now.” She opened her eyes once more, blue orbs roaming from Impa to Link to Leonore. “The question, however, is how far we should push the advantage. Ganondorf would not risk either the utter destruction of Valent or weakening it to the point where Valentine sovereignty is challenged. There always needs to be a third nation to keep the other two in check. Should our joint effort go too far, should our generals become too ambitious, should our soldiers charge on ahead unbridled, we risk the destruction of Valent, which would result in a very simple head-to-head contention between Hyrule and Gerudo…a scenario where nothing can keep either of us in check but the other.” The long-winding explanation left the princess short of breath; she inhaled deeply before finishing, “Neither the generalissimo nor myself can guarantee survival – much less victory – in such a situation, and it is a scenario both of us are actively avoiding.”

Looks were exchanged, some of them passive, others uncomfortable. The more military-minded wondered just how easy it was to determine how “far” they were supposed to allow the war effort to go, while the more politically-minded wondered how well the populace would accept anything short of an unconditional surrender from Valent after everything that had happened. The easier method, of course, would to be to engage in a war of attrition, all three nations at a stalemate with no obvious strategic advantage or incentive to conduct further hostilities…but all four in the room also knew that that kind of scenario generally required years to build up.

None of them wanted to see this war drag on for that long.

“Then we still have a decision to make,” Impa noted, ever pragmatic; she still had not identified the exact reason why there seemed to be bad feeling over this decision, but she also knew that this was a subject they needed to approach, whether they liked it or not. “The question as to whether or not we should volunteer Agent Link.” She looked over at the Hylian agent, who stood impassively and stoically, knowing full well what the other two women in the room knew, that Link would volunteer and wouldn’t object if it was the wish of both of his superiors, the princess and the director.

But for now, Impa received no answer. Leonore merely looked silently away, her gaze wandering towards the princess’ bedroom, while Zelda busied herself with pouring a warm cup of tea from the teapot to a teacup, and, just as quietly, consumed the aromatic liquid just as she was consumed by her thoughts.

There would be no easy answers tonight.

*****

Generalissimo Ganondorf knew that there were invisible limits to his power, limits that he could still see as clearly as he could the walls of his study, a small sanctuary that he frequented more often than his formal office. Even in war, he could not, for example, upgrade MICO beyond what it was now, an intelligence coordination agency. Any attempt to make MICO as versatile as Joint Intelligence would not be accepted by the Gerudo war pavilion – who sported a certain degree of contempt for them – and would probably provoke the ire of the governing lords of Gerudo’s many provinces.

The truth was, of course, that he himself would likely not allow it. An agency such as Hylian Joint Intelligence, he knew, was a political liability that could easily turn into a springboard into a controversial, if not devastating, political power play. Even the Hylian mass media enjoyed painting Joint Intelligence as a shadowy, morally-ambiguous government cabal, and senatorial disapproval towards their near carte blanche regarding all matters concerning national security was hardly a secret. While Ganondorf knew that he could upgrade MICO to the level of Joint Intelligence and not have to worry about corruption, he also knew that such a guarantee would only last so long as Emi remained director of MICO. There were many women who raised him as a child, but Emi had always felt more like an older sister than an aunt, only some years older than Ganondorf himself. Her loyalty was something he could count upon, which was something that could not be said of so many others in Garuda’s halls of power.

Of course, despite childhood familiarity, now that both of them had grown and were occupying government positions with a clear difference in authority, Emi never allowed herself to stray from formalities in front of the generalissimo. Ganondorf wasn’t even sure if she could stray from formality, ever. He didn’t think this was something the car bomb had taken from her; she had become increasingly paranoid, irate, and pragmatic ever since joining the Gerudo intelligence community, her first station being – of all places – South Gerudo.

Some of the things seen there were difficult to forget.

“General Meryl suspects many things,” Emi admitted, her scowling voice sounding scratchy as it always did, but echoed by the walls of Ganondorf’s study, a spacious office occupied more by stuffed bookshelves than furniture, sitting on the other side of his desk, a piece of furniture that took up six entire square meters of the room. Her mind strayed for a split-second, recalling the adage about “bigger desks”. Even the desk of the generalissimo’s private study was so large that he rarely used more than half of it at any given time, especially with his preference for neatness and organization, but both of them knew that it was aesthetically necessary, if only for the purposes of conveying the fact that he alone held the greatest authority in Gerudo. “But I’ve no word that she knows for a fact that we deliberately delayed the briefing. My contacts with Minster Sydney share my views; the general would’ve contacted her had she truly believed something was amiss.”

And Ganondorf, seated in a specially-carved wooden chair on the other side, merely nodded contemplatively, his expression revealing that he was half-distracted, absorbed in a sea of thoughts. “Make sure it remains that way,” he responded. “I’d rather keep our brainstorming sessions to ourselves.” He sighed, one laced with just the barest signs of impatience and frustration. The study offered no windows, but the grandfather clock to the side showed that the time was eight o’clock in the evening, hours after the briefing earlier had been concluded.

Emi, of course, knew exactly what the generalissimo was talking about. This practice had been going on for years now, the director of the Military Intelligence Coordination Office deliberately calling meetings an hour or two late so that she had the time to consult the generalissimo first. The two would privately form their own plans and possible responses to any situation before actually bringing them up to the war council. While Ganondorf was not at all aversive to a good plan suggested by the league of Gerudo’s most distinguished generals, he was also aware that the Gerudo war pavilion often was not as productive as he would like. It was better to make decisions ahead of time before having to pretend that he was giving the advice of the military staff some thought at the briefings – advice that more often than not were inadequate and unsubstantial made at military briefings that were coated with far too much politicking.

“Understood, generalissimo,” the director nodded curtly; her eyepatch slipped just a bit with that motion, although not enough to reveal her missing eye, and she suppressed a scowl as she slid it back into place. “Will that be all?”

Ganondorf nodded, his gaze moving from the director to several pieces of paperwork that he had on his desk. “Begin making preparations to brief and equip Agent Link with anything he may need in his upcoming infiltration mission behind Valentine lines.”

A thoughtful beat. “Yes, generalissimo.” Another beat. “I would like to point out, however, that Princess Zelda has not agreed to your plan. And I am not certain she’s likely to deprive her only native security option here in Garuda…” She was silenced, however, as Ganondorf raised a hand just slightly from the table.

“Emi,” interrupted Ganondorf softly, but seriously. “Her Highness will agree to our plan. Her capital lies in ruins, the fate of her father is unknown. Her armed forces are scattered across the country, and most of them have no idea where everyone else is. They have problems communicating with us or anyone else due to enemy ECM.” He pushed himself away from the desk, leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms. “Princess Zelda does not have a choice, not when her country is on the brink of destruction. We can still afford to wait. She cannot.”

It took a moment for Emi to carefully weigh the possibility that Ganondorf would be correct before she nodded curtly again. “Very well, generalissimo,” she began. “I shall have my staff get…” The ringing of a cell phone within Emi’s robes interrupted her, and she snatched it out irritably in the same way someone might snatch at a flying bug hovering too close for one’s liking. “Yes?” she snapped, undoubtedly disorientating whoever was on the other side of the line, before her expression softened along with her voice. “Yes, I will be sure to inform the generalissimo.”

It was from his chair that the generalissimo looked at the director expectantly, still leaning back against his seat, as the latter silently slipped the cell phone back into her robes. They locked gazes for one moment, two stoic eyes matching a lone one.

“Her Highness has decided to agree to your request,” was all Emi said dispassionately.

Ganondorf merely nodded and allowed a small grin to surface on his dark lips.

*****

Exoria File #008
Emi (Abridged Career Service Vitae)

“Name: Emi
Rank: Major General (OF-7)
Age: 59 (born September 12, 1447)
Birthplace: Irawan, Gerudo
Service Number: 4469385
Date of Enlistment: October 3, 1468

Background: Only child of mother Rayna and unidentified Valentine father; mother killed in suicide bombing in Irawan on March 15, 1466. Attended Garuda First University while working part-time as Honorary Page to then-Lord Ganondorf, earned Bachelor’s Degree in Criminal Law; tuition paid for by state in accordance to Honorary Page Program.

Career: Joined Gerudo army under personal recommendation from then-Lord Ganondorf with commission to first lieutenant. Promoted to captain for valorous actions during riot-suppression campaign in Bloody Friday of 1468 shortly after enlistment. Command a task force during Mura Siege in 1471; subsequent investigation cleared all charges of wrongdoing and resulted in promotion to major. Involved with various investigation efforts prior to promotion to colonel and transfer to MICO in 1488, and personally handpicked by then-Chairwoman of Armed Defense Staff Gertrude as tactical commander of MICO classified operations in South Gerudo. Rotated to Garuda and promoted to major general in 1497. Appointed as Director of MICO in 1500 following resignation of then-Director Debbie. Survived car bomb in 1501 with loss of left eye and damaged throat.

Assessment: Loyal, intelligent, and dedicated. Considered by staff of MICO to be one of the most capable directors of the office’s history. Possesses firsthand experience in field operations and leadership positions in both military and intelligence capacities. Known for a disciplinarian command style, and values experience, talent, and results over personal preferences. Noted to be confrontational and critical of both personal staff and military peers. Medically evaluated for paranoid personality disorder; results negative.

Recommendation: Continued service as director of MICO.

Last updated December 3, 1506”

*****

Author’s Note: There comes a certain point in fan fiction – or any form of fictional material, really – where one has to decide where one stands in the sliding scale of realism. I am, for example, perfectly aware of the actual impracticality of some aspects I have introduced into the story in my attempt to remain faithful to the games, one of which, obviously, is the gunsword. Now, we have a quadruped walker. While it’s not exactly a Gundam, I cannot say that armored walker vehicles are what modern day military theorists consider to be the most practical of weapons. That said, though, I fully admit that, sometimes, it’s just cooler that way. I never claimed that this was an accurate portrayal of modern war, after all. So while you entertain yourself with more gunsword goodness and mobile walking tanks, you can look forward to all sorts of craziness later on.

For those who have yet to catch on, yes, we’ve reached the point in the story where the “prologue” is over, and now Link has to go through three different dungeons to fight three different bosses. This will be followed by an intermission, a plot reveal of some kind, before he has to tackle another set of bosses, then move onto the final boss. This should give you an idea of how far we are down the story. While I can’t tell you anything beyond the three bosses right now, I can tell you that the order they will be fought in will be Anansi, Jormungand, and Quetzalcoatl. And, yes, I am watching all of you diving towards Wikipedia to try to see if you can figure out what the names are referring to.

I am sorry, once again, about the delay in writing Chapter Seven, and while I’m pleased that I did not spend as much time writing this as I did Chapter Six, I fear I must admit this is a phenomenon that will not be remedied anytime soon. My next college semester will be starting soon, and it is going to be the most difficult semester out of my program, so I will be hard-pressed for time to actually continue writing at my rapid pace. That said, though, most highly-rated fan fiction seems to update rather slowly, so perhaps this is a good sign? We’ll let time tell.

Keep this up. I have really enjoyed this. I never find any mistakes it seems.

Actually, there have been plenty of mistakes; some of them have been proofread out by a friend, though. ^_^;

Chapter Eight is now up. ^_^;

*****

Chapter Eight

“Your Valentine is adequate. I don’t think you’ll have any problems linguistics-wise.”

Link chose not to reply to that in any way, verbally or otherwise. It was, superficially, a neutral gesture, but if he had to be completely honest, his lack of actual response was probably motivated by a mild irritation towards the woman who now sat on the other side of one of the tables of the briefing rooms in Fort Garuda. If his eyes showed it, then he was glad that the sunglasses prevented Emi from picking it up. He had already figured that she would probably be sparse with her praise and scathing towards imperfection, but considering that his exchange with Emi in Valentine had been completely fluent, Link admitted that he was slightly irked at the fact that she seemed to only have deemed his performance as “adequate”. Where else was she supposed to find a non-native Valentine who spoke High Valentine devoid of any immediately identifiable regional accent and possessed a vocabulary as expansive as that of his Interlingua?

Sitting at just a slightly greater distance from the two of them on the side, Leonore – leaning back against her chair and with her arms crossed – seemed to be trying to hide a somewhat amused smile as she quietly decided some face-saving might be in order. “Judging from preliminary reports, the bulk of Valentine forces in the Gerudo theater of operations are of Sud Valent origin,” the director of Joint Intelligence offered, and Link took silent satisfaction in watching the director of the Military Intelligence Coordination Office develop a light scowl at what she must’ve undoubtedly interpreted as butting in, if not one-upping her. “They speak also speak a variant of Valentine, with a clipped, harsher accent than those of Nord Valent. It’s not anything major – Interlingua and High Valentine are just as common amongst them – but we want to do as much as we can to keep you as inconspicuous as possible. I’ll work on that with you later.”

Nodding in compliance, Link understood what Leonore was trying to get at. The information, of course, was almost two decades old, and it was unlikely even Leonore knew to damning detail as to what changes may have happened linguistics-wise in the southern half of Valent. Still, dialects and accents had a habit of sticking around, and twenty years was hardly a long period of time in the history of language. It was better to have the capability to speak like the enemy and not use it than it was to need the capability and not have it.

Perhaps in irritated retaliation, Emi produced a cell phone from her pocket, glanced at the clock before staring stoically at both Link and Leonore. “I have a staff meeting in a few minutes here,” she said simply, not bothering to cover some of the scowl that had made it into her voice. “We’re going to have to continue this later. In two hours?”

“Sounds fine with me,” Leonore replied, and the three intelligence officers stood in unison, adhering to proper etiquette. Sitting even further away in one corner of the room, Major Jessica, having been watching over the proceedings, also quickly stood half a beat later. The last two hours had actually been spent in this briefing room – one that was nearly identical to that of the briefing room they had been in three days ago when MICO first revealed the existence of the superweapon Anansi – reviewing key information that would be vital to the upcoming infiltration mission and making the proper preparations.

The reasoning behind Emi’s choice of locating the briefings here in Fort Garuda was not lost on either Link nor Leonore, both of whom knew that it had little with being polite to their foreign guests by going to them instead of having them come to MICO Headquarters. It was merely a pragmatic issue of not wanting the Director of Joint Intelligence, the head of a very potent intelligence agency, to take a look at the very heart of Gerudo military intelligence. Allies as they were, secrets remained secrets, and intelligence directors were very jealous in keeping them.

“How are things going in the interrogation department?” Leonore asked, neatly piling her papers into a stack as Jessica began to move forward to join Emi from where she was in the rear.

Emi gave a slightly subdued look that nonetheless screamed “none of your business” to Leonore, but she deigned to answer anyways. “There’s one prisoner that’s a member of special forces, but he’s been keeping his mouth shut.” She shrugged. “I don’t think we’re going to be able to get anything reliable out of him. There’s progress with the other grunts, but I don’t think they actually know anything substantial.” It was clear that Emi knew what Leonore wanted, but she still allowed herself a brief lapse – probably contemplating whether or not she wanted to entertain Leonore – before finishing, “I’ll be sure to inform you if anything important or relevant to this operation comes from the POWs.”

Nodding and detecting the clear impatience in Emi’s voice – probably mixed in with the not-quite-so-veiled desire to see them gone – Leonore merely spoke politely, “Then we will return in two hours.” She looked to Link, who nodded curtly back as both of them began to move towards the set of doors on the left side of the almost-empty briefing room.

Jessica, as was expected of her, stoically moved her way towards the two Hylians – she had, Link noticed, adopted her serious and stoic persona once more – apparently preparing to escort the two guests back to their rooms. She stopped in her tracks and turned towards her superior, however, when Emi suddenly called out, “I believe Director Leonore and Agent Link can find their rooms without your assistance, Major Jessica.” Her choice of words, not to mention her tone in general, gave a clear indication that she was impatient and annoyed. “I want a word with you.” She cast a not-so-subtle look towards Leonore and Link that clearly told them it was time for them to go. They wasted no time in vacating the room.

It was out in the hallway, however, that Link suddenly recalled a string of thought that had been bothering him previously, the possibility that Emi might be one of the aforementioned individuals giving Jessica a difficult time in MICO due to her ascension to her rank and position via family connections. Even as he trailed Leonore, an idea came to his mind – one that he knew very well was formulated from his heart instead of his head – and he quietly allowed the distance between the two of them to increase until the DJI turned a corner, and Link silently crept his way back to the briefing room. It was time to do some eavesdropping.

Pressing himself against the doorframe, Link managed to catch their conversation just as Jessica finished what seemed like a short sentence ending in “Colonel Teresa”. Peeking through the gap between the door and the doorframe, he couldn’t help but feel that the entire scene looked almost like a student having an unpleasant discussion with a schoolmistress; Emi clearly seemed less than impressed, while Jessica had her hands folded in front of her and bowed her head slightly in…what was it? Fear? Shame? Distress?

“Then I will have a word with her,” said Emi impatiently, and it was clear that her annoyance was directed not solely at Jessica. Her remaining eye narrowed upon the MICO major, and Jessica barely managed to contain a flinch even as the director pointed a finger at her. “But as much as I can enforce discipline, the core problem still lies with you. I cannot help you if you’re unwilling to help yourself.”

Jessica hung her head. Her voice was so quiet that Link could not hear it from the distance, but lip-reading served him well. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” she whispered.

Sighing, Emi crossed her arms as her one eye closed in what seemed like tired exasperation, and expression not unlike an impatient and unsympathetic mother towards a child who has gotten into trouble not for the first time. “What’s done is done,” she allowed herself to mutter. “I’ll try to salvage the rest. In the meantime, continue heading up security detail for Princess Zelda.”

It was almost difficult to catch from where Link stood from meters away, but Jessica almost seemed horrified at the notion, if the barest widening of eyes, the slacking of the jaw, the upward tilt of her head, and a slight rise in her shoulders – all executed with the barest, near-invisible of movements – was any indicator. It was clear that she realized her initial reaction, and attempted to pretend it didn’t happen by freezing up and slowly relaxing once more, perhaps knowing such a show would not be appreciated by her superior. Emi, however, was too attentive and sharp to let that slide past her notice.

“Oh, don’t be stupid, foolish girl,” the director of MICO snapped irritably, clearly annoyed by such an immature and thoughtless reaction, voiced or not. “What do you think you’ll prove by going back on the front? MICO’s not involved in heroics, only intelligence-gathering and investigation. It’s supposed to be a desk job, which is why your father put you here in the first place. Abandoning your current duty would only make the situation worse.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jessica whispered meekly and weakly in reply after a moment of silence. Her cheeks burned scarlet with shame.

Turning away, Emi returned her attention to a stack of documents and folders beside her, organizing them. On the other side, a door slid open as the first of MICO’s upper echelon officers began to trickle into the room. “That’ll be all,” she muttered in dismissal of Jessica, apparently not wishing to deal with her – or her issues – any further. The major herself stood there for just a moment longer – perhaps in uncertainty or in shock – before finally bowing in what Link knew to be a salute of sorts within MICO. When she saw that the director still directed her attention at the papers before her, not bothering to respond, and when it was evident at least half a dozen MICO officers were here, she decided to quickly vacate the room with her head bowed. Link whipped his head around the corner of the doorframe to hide himself from view before he could catch the colors of Jessica’s face; he wondered what would be more appropriate for her right now, red of shame or white of shock.

The thought of hiding himself clearly didn’t really cross Link’s mind, as Jessica discovered as soon as she walked dejectedly out the doors of the briefing room, and it was only after she shut the doors behind her that she suddenly realized that the Hylian agent was leaning against a nearby wall, watching her expressionlessly. Her face betrayed a great deal of surprise, and her physical reactions – almost appropriate for that of a klutz, complete with a nearly comical step back – seemed to indicate she had reversed to another personality…probably the one that Link had run into the other day during morning prayer. He liked to think that it was her genuine personality as opposed to any of the personas she put up to make herself more professional, but it was difficult to tell with Jessica.

“You were listening?”

Link nodded, then tilted his head quizzically in the direction of the briefing room where Emi was.

Jessica picked up the hint fast enough. “She isn’t one of them,” she spoke quickly, as if to dispel Link’s thoughts as swiftly as possible. “Director Emi doesn’t care where we come from as long as we can get results. She’s…” She stopped mid-sentence to take a deep breath, perhaps to compose herself or fight down a wave of rising emotions. “She’s been trying to protect me from the others for a while now. I…I owe her so much.”

And that was the end of the conversation. Apparently, Jessica had not the presence of mind to continue, not when she had just survived her superior giving her hell, and Link decided that he was just going to let the subject drop, admittedly uncertain of what to think. The trip back to the diplomatic suites, therefore, was sufficiently awkward, and Link actually found himself quite relieved when the two of them finally stepped out of the elevator, in which Jessica quietly bowed out before returning to the security office after a token goodbye. The Hylian agent himself ended up stepping into Leonore’s room after knocking, and found the director reading what were probably abridged and censored reports given to them by MICO in her suite, seated on one of the sofas surrounding the living room table.

Leonore did not look up from her papers or show any sign of emotion until after Link sat down on the seat opposite the director, preparing for what he expected to be language coaching; it was the director, after all, who had taught Link Valentine in the first place, and it was only natural that she would be the one to roughen his accent a bit to make him sound more Southern. “I thought I told you not to be too sneaky around here,” were Leonore’s first words when she finally peered over the sheets of paper in her hand and at Link; she didn’t look entirely upset, just a bit exasperated, like a mother who realized she was not being entirely successful at breaking her child’s semi-bad habit.

Donning what was best described as a neutral expression, Link merely shrugged; honestly speaking, he wasn’t entirely certain what to express. There was, of course, the fact that he admitted he wasn’t exactly thinking with his head when he decided to stay behind to eavesdrop, but he didn’t necessarily think it was entirely wrong either.

Then, again, if Leonore noticed Link had been spying on the conversation, it was not at all unlikely that Emi knew as well. Perhaps prudence should be more carefully exercised next time…if there ever was going to be a next time.

Sighing, Leonore closed her eyes as one hand slid the sheets of paper back onto the table and the other rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Don’t get involved in it,” she murmured, trying to relax her eyes a little, before opening them seconds later. She wasn’t sure how much Link would take that to heart, but as the two began to work on Link’s accent, she personally hoped he wouldn’t try to butt into business that wasn’t his own.

They had enough problems as was.

*****

Military logistics personnel were rushing to and fro in Fort Garuda as they scrambled through the halls and staircases, their swift and almost panicked demeanor clearly indicating that there was a priority protocol taking place. Most of them were only just sprinting for their stations, while others were acting as couriers with paperwork and equipment; however, most of them formed a flow in the stone-and-steels halls by the dozens, all of them moving in a general direction that led deeper into Fort Garuda. This was understandable, as personnel reporting to their stations from outside Fort Garuda would obviously be headed inwards, while couriers would be trying to deliver information to higher echelons located deeper into the fort. Officers ran while fortress staff and soldiers made way.

A formation of three individuals, however, was an exception to that rule. Not only did they not rush – their gait was hurried, but their pace was decidedly at a walk, not even a jog – they clearly went in a completely opposite direction of the flow, headed outwards amidst the current of red, brown, and black uniforms rushing past them. One wore the all-black suit-and-tie of Hylian Joint Intelligence, one wore the white-and-red robes of Gerudo’s Military Coordination Intelligence Office, and one wore modest civilian clothes suitable for the office. And yet despite moving against the flow, they moved with clear motivation and importance, and even in the rush, the frantic Gerudo officers were sure to make way and not bump into them.

“Valentine forces have been launching an offensive from the northern border since two days ago,” Jessica was already explaining, leafing through a stack of intelligence reports in her hands that was already beginning seem like a bit of a paperwork mess, translating and summarizing the formal and coded intelligence reports into something that was abridged more understandable. “Gerudo forces have been putting up a solid defense in the west, so, utilizing what we suspect to be Fort Regner just north of the Gerudo-Hyrule border as a staging area, they initiated a significant operation with the goal of seizing the Gerudo city of Zubara.”

Link and Leonore, trailing the MICO major who led the way, exchanged a quiet look. Fort Regner was practically north of the mid-point of the Hylian-Gerudo border. The fact that Valentine forces were using it as a staging area was bad news for them; it effectively meant that – at least where the southern regions of Hyrule were concerned – Valentine forces had managed to make a push through half the country. Not for the first time did Link wonder just how badly the defending Hylian forces were holding up against the Valentine onslaught.

Not having noticed the shared look of the Hylians behind her, Jessica went on with her rapid briefing, turning down another, less-crowded hallway. “Zubara is a city that offers no immediate defensive or offensive value for us, but represents a strategic target for Valent. Zubara is relatively easy to defend, and has three natural corridors further into Gerudo. The city would effectively be a springboard for Valentine forces to initiate all operations from the north.”

The group quickly turned at Jessica’s lead into a door marked “Men’s Changing Room”. Link found it slightly amusing that neither she nor Leonore showed any reservation or hesitation in entering, and slightly less so as he found the changing room to be remarkably smaller than he had expected a military changing room to be in Fort Garuda. But, then again, there number of men in Gerudo was incredibly small, only two percent of the population. Chances were that there would be no one inside…that, unit cohesion regardless of gender was supposed to be the aim of all military forces. That said, it wasn’t as if the two percent of enlisted in Gerudo needed a massive changing room to themselves.

This, however, was clearly not an enlisted changing room, but one for officers; the lockers were noticeably larger, and there were even changing stalls in the center, each one having their own mirror, bench, and curtain. Already, Link, through a rapid and practiced routine of hand movements, had already swiftly removed his jacket, tie, and gunsword holster as the three stopped before one of the changing stalls. Jessica, meanwhile, offered Link a plastic bag in her hand. They all knew what it was: The Valentine special forces uniform that Gerudo interrogators had taken from one of their POWs, the one Link would be wearing to dress as the enemy and infiltrate their lines. “We’ve tailored it to fit your size, so it should be a decent match,” Jessica reassured him, looked at all the equipment, then blushed as she added, more out of courtesy than anything else, “D-Do you require assistance?”

A kind gesture, but unnecessary. It wouldn’t be the first time Link had change into full tactical uniform and gear by himself. He shook his head and politely relieved Jessica’s arms of the load before disappearing behind the curtain. Leonore herself just seemed wryly amused, although there was room for doubt as to exactly what she was amused at, Jessica’s flustered offer for helping a member of the opposite gender change, Link’s seemingly obliviousness towards a flustered Jessica. The gesture, however, was betrayed only by the slightest twitch at the corner of her lip, which hinted at both mild interest and possible disorientation.

Collecting herself and allowing the blush to flush out from her cheeks, the major took a deep breath, spoke, “Just twenty-three minutes ago at 1812 hours, Valentine forces committed Anansi into the battle over Zubara after two days of unsuccessfully attempting to rout defending forces. The generalissimo, in consideration of this specific operation, has given orders to buy as much time as possible, but preliminary reports indicate that Gerudo forces in the area are taking heavy losses, and are also preoccupied with evacuating all remaining civilians from the area.” Again, Jessica inhaled deeply. “They are not expected to be able to win this engagement.”

Not entirely surprising news. While the majority of all Gerudo forces had finally been recalled, only around half of them managed to arrive at their respective battlefronts, meaning that the current defending forces were probably insufficient to hold out against an attack from Anansi. That said, even if they had been fully armed, stocked, and prepared – and had the benefit of more manpower – a triumphant defense would be uncertain. Regardless, Link did worry just a bit; that Anansi had just been in Leh four days ago and was now in Zubara caused him to contemplate the possibility that there might be two – or even more – of those mechanical spider-walkers in Valent’s arsenal.

He decided to throw that train of thought out of his head fairly quickly. It was something too horrible to consider, and it wasn’t going to help his mission any. Not now, anyhow.

On the same subject, though, Link knew perfectly well how much the deployment planning and execution had become a logistical nightmare for the brass and staff at Fort Garuda. Recalling every woman back to their respective army groups, arming and supplying them with enough weapons, ammunition, and rations to last at least two weeks of combat, trying to keep track of where Valentine forces had advanced, keeping track of defending forces already at the border, establishing supply lines and transport routes, and actually sending the troops there was a tremendously overwhelming and time-consuming undertaking, and Link knew he did not envy the job of the logistics staff. It was hardly surprising that many of the battlefronts remained undermanned despite the war entering its sixth day.

And then he wondered just how well things were on the Hylian front. If six days were not entirely enough for all of Gerudo’s military forces to deploy even with strategic coordination from Fort Garuda, how were Hylian forces, scattered across the country, faring without any instructions or direction from the Haven?

“There is a silver lining for us, however,” continued Jessica, who fought down another blush as the sounds of fabric skimming across skin – the sound of clothes either being taken off or put on – jogged her imagination a bit, and she looked at her reports with more emphasis than was actually required. “Valentine single-mindedness in their attempt to conquer Zubara created a strategic blunder that we had been exploiting. For enemy forces to reach Zubara from Fort Regner, they would have to traverse approximately seventy-six kilometers. Without setting up strategic defenses or fronts, Valentine forces had basically attempted to establish a direct highway, a single route between Zubara and Fort Regner which they are using to deploy reinforcements. Defending forces have been exploiting this weakness by surrounding the highway and launching sporadic attacks on Valentine forces in transit.”

That seemed like a poor, if not inexcusable, lack of judgment and strategy on Valent’s part. It was effectively a seventy-six kilometer salient that led directly into an enemy formation. On one hand, it was a very vulnerable formation that offered little strategic advantages other than immediate mobility. On the other hand, such a move reflected just how badly and impatiently Valentine forces wanted Zubara. Not for the first time did Link recollect Zelda’s words about how the Valentine invasion strategy made absolutely no sense…and not for the first time did he ponder the true meaning and motive behind the Valentine aggression.

“MICO speculates that in the likelihood Valentine forces gain supremacy in the area, Anansi will be quickly pulled back further behind enemy lines instead of remaining in Zubara. However, to do so with minimal risk, Anansi is likely to have to take that seventy-six kilometer-long highway back to Fort Regner before attempting to move anywhere else to for resupplying, the same way it came in. In other words, the superweapon’s range of movement will be limited.”

It sounded chancy, but even Link admitted that this situation was a godsend. With the kind of mobility Anansi could accomplish – mobility that he had witnessed firsthand – any sort of advantage in terms of figuring out where the superweapon was going to be was worth the risk. They might not get another break like this again.

“A transport helicopter will take you to Samani Military Airbase forty kilometers north of Garuda, where a light fixed-wing military transport aircraft is currently being prepared to airdrop you near Zubara as soon as you arrive. We expect that you will arrive at the area of operations six hours from now.” From behind the curtain, Link heard the ruffling of papers; Jessica’s voice subsequently sounded like she was reciting the rest of her statement from memory as opposed to actually reading it. “Your mission, once you land, is to infiltrate enemy lines while maintaining your cover as a member of Valentine special forces, investigate the whereabouts of Anansi, locate the superweapon, and sabotage it while it is being repaired and resupplied.” There was a pause, and Link could only guess that she had turned to the older woman in the room, a guess that was confirmed as he heard Jessica ask, “Director Leonore, do you have anything you wish to add?”

“Her Highness is being briefed at another location, but will join us shortly.” Leonore’s voice seemed slightly wry, as if she found it somewhat entertaining knowing that it was probably one of Link’s foremost concerns; he personally was glad that she couldn’t see him rolling his eyes behind the curtain. “The Sud Valentine accent we were working on probably won’t be necessary now, but keep it in mind just in case. Also, do try to stay away from actual Valentine special forces; chances are they have special codes and traditions that we’re unaware of, so you don’t want to be caught red-handed with a wrong gesture or turn of phrase.” The last three words were uttered with a bit of amusement; all of them knew full well that Link wouldn’t actually talk if he could help it.

The sound of a door sliding open, followed by the sound of very familiar hurried footsteps, alerted Link of a not at all unexpected presence. This was only confirmed the skidding of boots across the floor indicated that Jessica was now standing to attention before the newcomer to the room. “Your Highness.” The MICO major sounded sharp and on alert. “I believe you have been briefed on our current situation?”

“I have,” Zelda’s voice came from behind the curtain as her footsteps came to a halt right in front of Jessica and Leonore. A moment of silence followed, her eyes presumably trailing to the curtain. “Is he changing?”

“He should be done any moment now,” Leonore replied, then, almost teasingly, poked at the curtain twice, causing it to flutter slightly. “You can stop taking your time, Link. It’s not very gentlemanly to keep three ladies waiting like this.”

No sooner had the director withdrawn her finger, however, did the curtain finally pull away, and Link stepped out of the stall to the slight surprise to the three ladies waiting outside. For one thing, the uniform seemed to be a perfect fit, but size was not the only thing that seemed to accommodate Link well. The green uniform of Valentine special forces was combined here and there with dark brown straps, holsters, and pouches, each storing various pieces of equipment, accompanied by gloves of the same color. The gunsword tucked away into the hip holster was already looking like a standard part of the uniform. Multi-pocketed trousers were tucked into brown combat boots, and protective pads covered the knees and elbows. What seemed to be the most characteristic component of the uniform, however, was a rather long green beret, its end a tip as it drooped down behind him to his shoulders. The end product somehow just seemed like it matched Link rather well, and Zelda herself experienced a rather strange sensation of…what? Nostalgia? She honestly wasn’t sure herself.

The sunglasses, almost interestingly enough, were not present alongside his uniform; had Zelda and Jessica not spent a few more seconds than necessary staring in hypnotic silence at the display of his eyes, they may have noticed that his sunglasses was partially tucked into one of the pouches. It was a bit more difficult for Link not to notice this time, who threw a somewhat difficult look at Leonore; she, in turn, looking vaguely entertained more than anything else, merely smiled at the display and cleared her throat, successfully pulling both young ladies back to reality. Zelda seemed sufficiently irked – mostly at herself, as she had figured she wasn’t going to fall for that a second time – while Jessica just blushed and – while not looking away – cast down her gaze and suddenly seemed very fascinated with her fingers.

As if in an attempt to save everyone some face, Link turned to his princess – Zelda was, once more, back in her customary regalia of white, blue, and purple fabrics – and offered a polite bow of his head.

“Those sunglasses may have to stay on.” It was clear that Leonore was trying to hold back a laugh. “You’re going to attract far too much attention without them, especially since there won’t be any shortage of female servicemen in the Valentine special forces.” She did, however, distract herself as she stepped forward, and – to Link’s slight chagrin and embarrassment – began to make minor adjustments to his uniform, tugging his combat operations uniform here, tightening a strap there; while Link was sure Leonore was just trying to make him look more like a proper member of Valentine special forces, the entire situation still felt uncomfortably similar to a mother making last-minute adjustments to a suit a child had put on for some important event. He admitted there was a bit of disappointment, too; the clothes had fit on so naturally – as if he had always worn this combat uniform instead of his Joint Intelligence suit-and-tie – and he had half-expected to have gotten it down perfectly.

After Leonore finished one last tug on the chest portion of the uniform and took one step back, admiring her handiwork, Jessica, seeing they were now set and ready, cleared her throat, nodded, “It’s time to go. This way, please.”

Attracting more than a few unusual looks on their way from the men’s dressing room to the elevators due to one of their number wearing the uniform of their enemy, the ensemble of four eventually found themselves ascending the floors of Fort Garuda in relative silence, each preoccupied by their own thoughts as the car shot its way towards the floor of the fort helipads. The hallways that Jessica led them through were largely empty save increased patrols, the combined effect of both soldiers being shipped out to the frontlines and a live protocol being handled in the lower levels below.

The hallways leading to the west helipad – the same helipad and hallways Link and Zelda had come in through five days ago – remained unchanged, but it carried a lonelier air as their footsteps echoed through the corridors. The click-clack of four pairs of footwear, however, were not the only sounds that dominated the halls; the faint but growing sound of rapidly-spinning helicopter rotors told them that they were getting closer to their destination.

It was at the last T-junction, just before they stepped out the open arch to the helipad, with the black Gerudo transport helicopter already in sight, when Princess Zelda suddenly stopped in her tracks, causing Link and Leonore – who had been following tightly behind – to come to a halt as well. “Major, Director Leonore,” she addressed both ladies, and waited for Jessica to turn around properly before finishing, “May Agent Link and I have a moment?”

It was Jessica and Leonore who exchanged quiet looks this time – it was not a customary movement, but it was as if both of them sensed that they were suddenly sharing similar lines of thought – but neither seemed in any frame of mind to argue. “Of course, your Highness,” Jessica gave a quick, curt bow as Leonore pursed her lips and looked away. “You must excuse me, however, for stressing the importance of time.”

“I understand, major,” came the reassurance. “I will not be long.”

Again, Jessica looked curiously but expressionlessly at the princess, allowed her gaze to be sidetracked by Link for just a moment, then turned her attention back to Zelda, and – one polite nod later – she and Leonore turned and moved on towards the helipad, clutching at their clothes and hair even as they stepped out into the range of the gales the helicopter’s single massive rotor was brewing. With the hallways mostly empty and the nearest patrols dozens of meters away, both Link and Zelda were effectively alone.

This was a moment that was probably just as difficult as Zelda had imagined it. Or, perhaps, in a way, it was less difficult than she had initially assumed, but it was also probably the result of a sudden realization that there would be a need for a change of plans. Like it or not, she had become attached to Link in more ways than one, and she was very much aware that the excess fluttering of eyelids and a gaze that made micro-movements that wandered from point to point across his face betrayed a great deal of nervousness and anxiety that she barely managed to keep hidden with her. Deep down, though, she knew the likelihood that Link would probably not need some sort of emotional baggage before embarking on what was possibly the most dangerous mission he had ever received. He didn’t need it; no one did. After all, Zelda was crown princess, and she knew – better than anyone else – that she could not burden her own subjects with the perception of weakness or uncertainty.

So pride kicked in along with cool, emotionless intellect as she took a breath to clear her mind, closing her eyes for just a moment to allow her brain to focus. It was time to move onto pragmatic matters.

“Link,” she breathed, the softness of her voice possibly a compromise between both her feelings and conspiratorial necessity, “there’s something I need to give you.” And, that being said, her hands produced a silver flash drive, a small digital storage device no larger than a lighter. Although she had fully intended to use it eventually upon receiving the device from Doctor Hal just mere minutes before the war broke out, she didn’t expect to actually have to use it this early on, or under these circumstances. As things were, however, Zelda considered this turn of fortune a godsend; Zelda may very well have missed Hal had their appointment been scheduled half an hour later, and it would deprived her – deprived Link – of a very essential tool.

And so the princess closed her eyes…and pinpricks of light suddenly began to wink into existence around her, subdued but beautiful sparkles that were descending around her like gentle flakes of snow, light that began to course into the flash drive clasped between her hands.

Link actually knew about this. Not much, but – like almost everyone in Hyrule and Gerudo – he knew this particular piece of public knowledge, that Princess Zelda was the only known living individual to possess abilities that were clearly supernatural. Exactly what her abilities were was an unknown factor, and there were always rumors about it, including stories of the late Queen Marsha conceiving Princess Zelda through holy virgin birth instead of being impregnated by King Robin II, of a closely-held state secret concerning mutation and evolution that the princess just happened to symbolize, of documents hidden away in the most secure vaults at a secret government facility possibly run by Joint Intelligence, and even of her Highness being the product of a genetic manipulation program. Her special status provoked arguments from both the scientific and religious communities, who interpreted Zelda’s abilities in their own ways to use as ammunition against the other side. That said, Link could count most of the rumors as baseless and ridiculous, but while he admittedly did not know exactly what these supernatural capabilities were supposed to be, he knew that with the princess now openly using her powers – “openly” being the last word anyone would use to describe anything pertaining to her abilities, whether it be the near-unseen displays of her power or government avoidance towards the topic in press conferences – this was probably very serious and very important.

It was an affair that took twenty seconds at most. The minor light show slowly began to subside, the miniature stars disappearing around Zelda. However, on the other hand, the flash drive continued to glow with an ambient light. No, Link told himself as he squinted, looking more carefully at the device. It wasn’t the flash drive that was glowing…but the air right above it.

The light slowly began to take shape, optically clarifying from what was initially a mere fog or cloud of light into what was beginning to definitely look like a three-dimensional hologram…something that was definitely beyond their current technological levels. What was even more surprising was the fact that hologram was simply materializing out of nowhere. The flash drive did not seem to have any device that would even remotely hint at anything capable of producing light, never mind a hologram, and yet – by the end of ten seconds – after a rain of mathematical symbols and equations ran through the cluster of faint light, a miniature figure began to make itself obvious in the light.

The curves of the body – if not the long hair – revealed the gender to be female, one that seemed to be wrapped in modest white robes glowing with faint light. Although the figure was only about a quarter meter in height, its features were clear and precise, giving it the very appearance of a human had it not been for the matter of color. In fact, now that Link looked closely, he couldn’t help but feel that the digital avatar resembled, in a way, Crown Princess Zelda.

The hologram of the being seemed to be asleep at first…until, barely three seconds later, its eyelids fluttered open, revealing a set of clear eyes that curiously looked subtly left to right…before settling the gaze squarely upon Princess Zelda.

“Well,” the thing – Link decided that, for purposes of reference, he was, for the time being, going to call it a she – actually began to talk at conversational volume…despite the fact that he did not see any speaker on the device. In fact, the voice sounded fairly authentic, as opposed to digital and disembodied. “That felt surprisingly…ticklish.”

Puzzled was the best way to describe the reaction Zelda had towards the present word choice. “Ticklish?”

The woman of light shrugged in what was clearly a nonchalant gesture. “Best adjective I could come up with to compare with human perception, your Highness. You’re going to have to forgive me on that. That, along with my choice of first words.”

“I…see,” Zelda managed. It was the first time Link had seen the princess genuinely uncertain…at least, awkward in a social, non-critical context. His eyes continued to follow the hologram in silent surprise and disbelief. “How has your boot up sequence progressed?”

“Fantastic, as far as I can tell,” the hologram continued to quip, tapping her foot impatiently. “There were two hundred and twenty-six…” She stopped mid-sentence as mathematical symbols ran across her skin of light, snapped her fingers twice in the air, then resumed her sentence, “Pardon me, two hundred and twenty-eight minor coding errors. That value is very much within the acceptable range of human error. I’ve generated minor modifications to these errors to compensate. No discrepancies in the core coding detected.” She sounded almost sarcastic as she clapped her hands, which actually produced a cracking sound as what almost seemed like electricity zapped in between her hands. “Round of applause to Doctor Hal, please.”

Zelda was already beginning to feel very awkward with this conversation as she nodded and attempted to sound placating. The lady in her hand was far too high-spirited and quirky, something that Zelda had expected…but not to this extent. “I’ll be sure to convey…” she started, but was almost immediately cut off.

“Now isn’t this interesting?” the artificial intelligence – Link could make that much of a guess himself – seemed to be greatly intrigued as her gaze became distant and a cat-like grin appeared on her lips. “Your Highness, I have some rather good news. Hylian Joint Intelligence databases are still up and running.”

“You have access to them?” The princess sounded hopeful.

The reply was appropriately deadpan. “No. Access implies I can actually get in, which I can’t; I can access the lower tiers, yes, but I don’t have the proper access codes for the more encrypted databases. I’m just saying that I’m looking at the house from the front lawn and the lights are on inside.” A pause, then the AI added in a voice that clearly seemed as if she was showing off, “I am programmed, however, to automatically connect with various government servers and, if possible, download information. The Holy Grail at the Haven is down – no connection whatsoever, so I’m guessing they either have the entire databases powered down or destroyed…or removed, but that’s unlikely – but the servers at Joint Intelligence are still running efficiently.”

Refusing to allow herself to seem too impressed – or perhaps not feeling very impressed in the first place – Zelda merely nodded gravely as she queried, “You do understand the current circumstances we are in, yes?”

The AI’s features straightened for the first time as she seemed more serious when compared to her playful demeanor before. “Yes, your Highness,” she nodded solemnly as she became all business, and Link curiously observed AI’s “hair” sway along with that motion, something that strangely caught his attention more than anything else and, by extension, made the AI seem more real. “Data downloaded from the National Meteorological Agency has consistently pointed at the fact that the Kingdom of Hyrule is currently in a state of war. Four point twenty-three seconds into startup mode, this unit activated DEFCON parameters to compensate.”

It was not unfair to say Zelda was incredulous. “The National Meteorological Agency?” she echoed in disbelief.

“Yes, your Highness.” The rising, lilting tone the AI took on indicated that she was quite pleased to incur such a reaction out of the princess. “As far as I can tell, the 23rd Mechanized Battalion has been using their servers to communicate battlefield intelligence…presumably due to the lack of the Holy Grail at the Haven.”

“Can you contact any other Hylian elements?” The Hylian sovereign sounded appropriately hopeful; if a line of communication could be established with Hyrule’s fighting forces, then it was potentially possible to begin planning for an appropriate counterattack.

Perhaps realizing that the news would be disheartening, the artificial intelligence’s voice took on a more sober tone. “All attempts have resulted in failure so far, your Highness. Communications with the 23rd Mechanized was possible only with access to the National Meteorological Agency’s servers.” She took a second to contemplate her options, then added, “I could leave a message on their server, but they’re going to have to check it if we are to expect any reply.”

Pursing her lips, Zelda quietly murmured something akin to “I see” as a hand went to her chin in deep thought, and it seemed as if she was about to follow up on the chain of thought in a her discussion with the AI, but the sound of a throat clearing turned both Zelda and the AI’s heads towards Link; he was becoming increasingly uncertain as to why he was even here, and being sidelined for the last two minutes was not something an intelligence specialist enjoyed, especially when it seemed that he had been promptly dismissed as being merely part of the room. The princess, in turn, cleared her throat to recover from her flustered realization of the situation, then extended the silver flash drive towards Link, the figure of light hovering closer to Link as she did so. “Link, I’d like you to meet Durandara. She is the first sentient artificial intelligence to ever be created, the brainchild of Doctor Hal, powered by a combination of data clusters and magic.”

Durandara twisted her face into an expression of clear distaste, and she flickered into a slightly redder hue. “With all due respect, your Highness,” she spoke while her hands went to her hips, looking at Zelda in what was almost disapproval, “I believe the term ‘magic’ is very much inaccurate. I would rather point to the possibility that your ability to manipulate data and technology to a certain extent is the result of a yet-to-be-researched genetic phenomenon that will eventually be explained when scientific levels achieve a sufficient level. As they say, any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” Making what was probably the equivalent of a sigh for an AI as she shrugged, she closed her eyes before turning to Link with a playful swing of her legs before opening them at the Hylian agent, and immediately she was all playful smiles again. “Regardless, hello, Link. It’s most certainly a pleasure to meet you. Judging by the information I’ve just downloaded from Joint Intelligence, I must say that your personnel dossier is very impressive, especially for someone of your age.” Durandara slowly unveiled her cat-like grin once more as she bent over, put a hand to her chin, and studied Link with a curious stare. “Also, I think you look cuter in real life than your photograph.”

All things said, Zelda was glad that she wasn’t the only person feeling awkward now – Link clearly looked as perplexed as she did – as she suddenly felt defensive towards Durandara’s mannerisms. Well, perhaps “defensive” wasn’t the right word as much as it was “embarrassment”. An artificial intelligence born from her magic was now dropping hints at her own bodyguard? Not entirely unexpected, the princess admitted, but she still felt a great necessity to divert the AI’s processing power elsewhere. “Durandara, I’m uploading newly updated information on Hyule’s current stance with Gerudo in the joint military effort, as well as specifics on a recently approved operation.” She began to connect the flash drive Durandara was projected from into what seemed like a small handheld computer.

Sighing and shrugging coyly, Durandara directed her attention towards Link once more. “Girl never gets any rest, not even after being awakened for the first time. I’m impressed you survived her, Agent Link; her Highness must be one heck of a slave driver.”

Now Zelda was becoming to be irritated. “Durandara…” she started.

“Yes, yes, your Highness, will strive to be more polite in the future,” Durandara interjected quickly and whimsically, mathematical symbols streaming down her body again as the download of data commenced and she quickly organized, cataloged, and analyzed the information flooding into her subroutines.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Zelda actually seemed somewhat apologetic as she turned to her interim bodyguard. “I’m sorry, Link,” she shook her head. “Durandara can be a bit…high-spirited.”

The Hylian agent merely nodded in an understanding and forgiving manner. True, the AI seemed much more quirky than Link had expected – he was still attempting to mentally cope with the fact that what Zelda stated to be the first actual advanced sentient intelligence to have ever existed was not an emotionless, droning entity, but actually had a personality of her own – but it wasn’t as if Durandara was being offensive or dislikeable.

“Now this…is a rather interesting predicament.” Link and Zelda turned towards Durandara again, who seemed to be staring off into space with a coyly curious expression on her face; one hand was on her hips while another one cupped her chin. “And one hell of an operation. Sending one man to do a job that would logically take two or three battalions to accomplish, one-man army jokes notwithstanding.”

“Do you see any problems in this operation, Durandara?”

The hologram made a rude sound. “Several dozens of them, yes.” She sounded appropriately snarky. “This is tantamount to a suicide operation.” She shrugged, added in a more pragmatic tone, “However, I concur with the conclusion: A sabotage mission may very well be the most effective choice of action…and one with the highest chance of success, given the alternatives and the data we have so far.” Her eyes turned back to the Link. “And Agent Link is most certainly the most suitable candidate for such an operation out of what we have so far.”

“Then I’m assigning you to Agent Link. You will give him tactical and electronic support as he carries out his mission.”

Although she didn’t seem confrontational, Durandara did cross her arms over her chest as she cocked her head quizzically to the side; again, Link found his attention caught by the motion of her hair, and he felt that perhaps it was this small bit of detail that somehow made Durandara seem more real. “Your Highness,” she quipped, “this isn’t a complaint, but I’d like to remind you that I am designed for electronic warfare, and not tactical field support.”

“Yes, but if we do not deal with these Valentine superweapons, the point of electronic warfare is moot.”

Durandara seemed convinced as she shrugged. “You have a point there,” she agreed, then swung herself around once more as she cheerfully looked at Link, to whom Zelda passed the silver flash drive; the metal landed gently in Link’s gloved hand before being clipped onto his vest. Strangely enough, despite the trading and moving of the flash disk, the hologram of Durandara did not move along with it, and he wondered if the metaphysical representation of the artificial intelligence was now an existence of her own. Either way, it felt both like a lucky charm and an indispensible piece of equipment now. “Well, then, it seems I’ll be having a fun time working with you, Agent Link. I hope you’re good company.” She grinned. “Rest assured, you’re safe in my hands like the Hero of Time blessed with the protection of the Oracles.”

It was Zelda’s turn to sound coy as a small, uncharacteristically mischievous smile stretched her lips. “If I remembered correctly, Durandara, the Oracles had the gift of clairvoyance.” Her tone was almost challenging.

“By manipulating tea leaves.” Again, Durandara hardly seemed amused as her voice took on a deadpan and sarcastic tone, the grin slipping from her lips. “A truly accurate method. I’m quite sure the Oracles were not capable of decrypting enemy codes and communications, not to mention prediction of enemy fire patterns. I believe it may be prudent not to compare me with mythological figures.”

Smiling patiently like a parent would towards a pouting child, Zelda quipped, “And I am sure you will have all the chances you need to show off your capabilities to Agent Link. So behave for now, please, and start running simulated scenarios for him until he gets to the area of operations.”

Durandara did not seem completely convinced that “running simulated scenarios” was what the princess really wanted her to do, but she dutifully obeyed anyways as her hologram faded and winked out of existence, leaving nothing between Link and Zelda once more.

And now that the hologram was gone, the princess felt somewhat vulnerable again. The pragmatic issues were now aside, and it left her with only emotions and sentiments that she was not entirely certain how to deal with. There was a great deal she wished to say, yet little time to say it. And the feeling of foreboding plagued her, a feeling that this may very well be the last time she saw her dedicated interim bodyguard.

So Zelda merely bowed her head slightly, whispered just loud enough for Link to hear, “I’ve already lost a bodyguard due to a covert operation. Please come back safely, Link.”

For all his stoicism, Link admitted that a delay before his quiet, solemn nod felt appropriate, a lapse in which both of them had a chance to collect themselves and figure out their bearings. And, knowing that he had been dismissed, that it was time to do the necessary, Link offered a respectful bow of his head – a formal, elegant gesture – before spinning on the heel of his boots and stepped through the archway leading to the west helipad, leaving Zelda standing in the safety the indoors provided her from the gale of the helicopter rotors.

“Is there something you aren’t telling me, Agent Link?” Despite not appearing in her holographic manifestation, Durandara’s voice was clear in Link’s ears as soon as Zelda was out of earshot. Determined not to pay the question any heed, he distracted and reminded himself that, at some point, he was going to have to figure out exactly how the artificial intelligence worked – what she could do and what limits she had – but when Link didn’t immediately provide an answer, she egged on, “Come on, spill the beans.”

Link wasn’t entirely sure if he felt humored or irritated. Regardless, he lightly rapped the flash drive with his knuckles as a means of response.

“Right,” Durandara’s reply was as amused as it was sardonic, “will be quiet now.”

Despite having met for only five minutes, Link was starting to gain the impression that getting Durandara to remain quiet may be a rather daunting quest, as if his mission was not difficult enough already.

One hand tightly held onto his long Valentine beret as he stepped onto the helipad, the winds buffeting his clothing as he joined Leonore and Jessica, both of them similarly holding onto any potential loose pieces of clothing and apparel. Seeing that the Hylian agent’s issue had been dealt with, Jessica quickly led the two members of Joint Intelligence to the rear hatch of the helicopter. Despite not going to accompany Link to Samani Airbase, the major nevertheless climbed aboard the aircraft through the back, undoubtedly headed for the cockpit to confirm last minute details with the helicopter pilot. This action alone left Leonore just a few moments to spare with her agent, both of them standing beside the military transport helicopter. The armor shielded them from the noise of the engine – which, surprisingly, was generally louder than the sound of a spinning rotor designed to stealthily make as little noise as possible – allowing Leonore to speak with Link by just raising her voice instead of outright shouting.

Although the DJI indeed seemed concerned and worried – at least, as concerned and worried as Link knew Leonore would ever allow herself to appear – she did seem a bit sterner in comparison to the Zelda’s soft-spoken demeanor…or maybe it was just the effect of having to talk over the helicopter. “Do you remember your list of objectives in priority order?”

Link nodded; days of reading through and memorizing his mission packets and intelligence reports had allowed him to commit almost every detail of the mission to memory. And he was fairly confident that – in the unlikely event his memory should fail him – Durandara was programmed to remember the mission parameters as well.

Rather than seeming satisfied, though, Leonore only seemed to become a bit more worried and anxious from Link’s answer, and the agent wondered if he had just fallen for a trick question. “I need to add one more onto the very top of that list,” the director’s voice became just slightly softer, and Link had to concentrate to catch what she was saying. “Survive.”

That caught Link off-guard a bit; he had always known Leonore to be a professional leader who – despite being competent enough to not waste life – was experienced enough to know that certain results required sacrifice. That she was suddenly placing a disproportionate concern on the life of an agent was a bit…unexpected.

His quizzical and inquisitive look was answered by what seemed like a small, matronly smile from Leonore. “I know you don’t like to lose, but…not getting yourself killed is the best thing you can do right now. I don’t think anyone doesn’t realize that this is close to a suicide mission; you’re up against an army-killing tank. No one’s going to look down on you for not being able to accomplish what a battalion can’t.”

Okay, so that made a lot more sense. Granted, it was a sacrifice he had been prepared to make – no one went to work at Joint Intelligence and fully expected to eventually live a long and prosperous life – but Leonore’s was pragmatic concern…which was absolutely fine by Link. He even appreciated a little…but, like so many other things, he wouldn’t be telling her that anytime soon, so he merely nodded dutifully.

Leonore seemed a sigh, but she gave what amounted to a grim smile as her hands came up, placed them upon Link’s shoulders, and gently squeezed them; he barely felt the pressure with the sewn-in shoulder guards on his combat uniform on, but the gesture itself was not unwelcome. “Hyrule’s going to look like a very different place,” she murmured. “Be careful, Link.”

“Agent Link!” the voice of Jessica came from the side, interrupting any reply Link may or may not have made, and both Hylians turned to see the MICO major run down the ramp of the helicopter, joining them. “You must depart now; operations at Samani Airbase are waiting for your immediate arrival.”

Nodding approvingly, Leonore removed her hands from Link’s shoulders, allowing him to give a respectful salute in turn. It seemed both oddly fitting and oddly out-of-place for reasons that alluded him, but he felt better doing it anyways. Despite his want to come back to this Hylian council of war, the agent was fairly realistic in his outlook; there was no guarantee he was ever going to make it back…so that gesture – barring cursing himself with an actual farewell – seemed to be a reasonable compromise. Jessica’s jog came to a stop as she turned and stood right beside Leonore, the two of them watching as Link turned, came around to the rear of the helicopter, and climbed up the small ramp.

And, to the agent’s subdued but pleasant surprise, standing upright in the middle of the helicopter, strapped and anchored tightly to the floor of the hold, was the familiar shape of Epona; the motorcycle still sported a few scratches from its previous encounter with Valentine forces, but the Gerudo mechanics – whom Link had allowed a short time to take a look – guaranteed that the vehicle was running smoothly even without repairs, and was in top shape. Aside from that, they also provided a full load of gas and reloaded the ammunition…meaning it was back on the road for Link in style.

As the hatch behind him began to close, blending his silhouette with the shadows inside the helicopter from Garuda, Link allowed himself a small smile. Looks like this wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

*****

Exoria File #009
Languages

The 1407 Hyrule City International Convention allowed for the countries on the continent to finally agree upon an official international language, Interlingua. From henceforth, all official documents that were to be made available to the public domain were published in Interlingua, and the same language became taught in every educational institute on the continent; at the same time, every country had the right to keep their original languages and dialects. Hyrule, whose language had originally been Interlingua, was at the forefront of this change. Gerudo also took the opportunity to streamline its language system; prior to the 1407 Hyrule City International Convention, Interlingua was spoken by a marginal majority of the country, but most of the provinces spoke its own different regional dialects. The convention provided an incentive for the country to find common ground, a platform upon which every man, woman, and child could make themselves universally understood to their countrymen. Resistance to the international legislature, however, met initial resistance from Valent; although most of the country’s educational institutes taught Interlingua as a secondary language, Valent already possessed its own unified language that only varied slightly by region, and saw no need to adopt another language that would replace the Valentine language in their newspapers, textbooks, and official documents. It wasn’t until a decade later that the legislation was finally fully carried out. Today, the average Hylian speaks only Interlingua, a Gerudo woman speaks a regional dialect with individuals from her birthplace and Interlingua with everyone else, and a gentleman from Valent generally has a slight favor for Valentine over Interlingua.

*****

Author’s Note: Buckle up; this is going to be a long author’s note.

I am, first off and again, apologetic over the time it has taken to write this chapter. Writer’s block notwithstanding, I would like to remind everyone that I am currently in college, the toughest semester of the entire program has started, and I’m trying to keep up. The updates, therefore, will not be speeding up anytime soon, although I will try to do my best to hurry. Chances, however, are that it’ll take as long to update as this chapter has…if not longer. I’m afraid there’s little I can do about this; I do have a life, after all…contrary to popular opinion.

I was actually very pleased – and very thankful – that readership seems to have picked up. Although I’m guessing many do not leave a review after reading, looking at the traffic page in my account interface has shown readership from countries I’ve never expected, including Croatia, Greece, and Peru. I do want you all to know that it makes my day to receive a glowing, substantial review, but knowing that people are reading what I’m writing (and hopefully approving as well) makes me warm and fuzzy inside too.

A special treat for you: Along with Link getting into his usual green outfit – which is surely a sign that the story has now officially picked up – people are probably wondering what Link looks like, now that his clothes seem to have gotten a modern revamp. I’ve done a not-so-very-well-done sketch of Link in his Valentine special forces outfit, actually. Frankly, I’m not entirely pleased with it – the rest of my gallery will show that I’ve done much better work before – but I see this more as a practice sketch than anything, a way to get my hand warmed up after months of not having properly sketched. Hopefully, it provides you with a visual aid. Please note, however, that the gunsword is not exactly the way I want it to look like, but I’m not a mechanics designer, so you’ll have to forgive me. [url=http://ysionris.deviantartcom.com/art/Link-Special-Forces-152962505 The link is here in all its glory[/url].

Of special note is that I will be copying-and-pasting special reviews into my author’s notes now, along with my replies to them. I want you to know before I start, however, that just because other people have reviews posted on here when yours aren’t doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate your reviews less, but probably because there are points they have made that I wanted to address, and I feel a need to provide that answer to everyone. I do read and appreciate good reviews – whether they be of praise or of criticism – and I do reply to most of them…although, admittedly, you’re more likely to get a reply if your review is long and fleshy.

Here goes:

Exodus5: Nice chapter but I don't understand how an army group losing 700 men or in this case women makes that much of a difference. An army group is made up of multipule armies which is then made up of 1 to 3 corps which are also made up of 1 to 3 divisions. Divisions are made up of 10 to 20 thousand men. An average sized army group would be around 200 to 250 thousand strong.

I’d like to thank you for your meticulous observation regarding this chapter; you’re reading quite carefully, and I’m very appreciative of that. Thankfully, I do have coherent answers for you, so please sit tight.

First off, Gerudo has a different method of calculating unit strength. As opposed to Hyrule, which uses terms such as “battalion” and “regiment”, Gerudo uses a very loose form of unit classification, namely, the rather archaic “army group”. I’m trying to make it so that, despite there only being three countries, there are different ways of classifying the sizes of different units. Thankfully, all nations will be using metric, so that’s something you don’t have to worry about.

Second, another fact is that the war has barely finished its second day by the time the briefing was held. This is a logistical problem: Armies cannot simply appear out of nowhere. Armies, in fact, need to be recalled – many of Gerudo’s soldiers were on leave across the country and needed to report to their corresponding army groups – armed, equipped, briefed, and transported – and when you’re transporting a bulk of soldiers to the border in a massive all-out war defense, you can bet that transport helicopters are not going to be enough, not to mention you’re transporting them across a country that’s mostly desert. Troop deployment simply does not work that fast, even in modern times. (The only exception to this rule in history was just before the Battle of the Bulge in World War II, where – after the failure of Operation: Market-Garden, which left the Allies with spearhead leading absolutely nowhere that had to be defended – Allied high command ordered all efforts to be concentrated on transporting material to the defending forces utilizing the Red Ball Express. This feat of transportation allowed for Allied troops to be deployed within days to the frontlines – although it did not solve the supply and logistics problems, and the Allies fought most of that battle without enough ammunition or weapons – and its effectiveness has yet to be matched in modern warfare, even in both Gulf Wars.) Long story short, however, it also means that there aren't enough Gerudo soldiers defending the border at the moment (most of them are still being equipped in their appropriate army bases), and the loss of seven hundred men two days into the war means there's going to be a massive hole in your main line of resistance.

Third, when an army group of more than seven hundred soldiers suddenly disappears within five minutes in a world where weapons of mass destruction have yet to be invented, you know you have a major problem.

Izanagi Mikoto: I gotta say, I'm lovin your story so far, which I stumbled across purely by chance. You've got a solid story, and I love the modern feel to it.

As for practicality, I don't know about bipedal weapons in reality, but I saw an anime called Gasaraki that portrayed a realistic view towards such machines, and I would've bought it if it happened in reality. I guess what I'm trying to say is that your portrayal of these superweapons feels somewhat grounded/believable if you're worried about realism. I certainly saw no real problems with it. It's not like you dropped in a dragon ball character. That would be insane.

In terms of realism, I'm more worried about the varying level of military power the three countries hold. The fact that nothing can even dent the walker worries me more than the fact that it exists. Then again it could turn out to have reactive armor or electromagnetic shiels. However, personally I don't mind; this is just my opinion in debating realism. As far as the power relationship - keeping the three countries in check, I don't know if I really buy it at this point, given how Valent is wiping the floor with the other two countries. If anything, this story has shown how a lead in technology can completely destroy such a balance, and I wonder if Ganon is really concerned at this point. Zelda thinks he is, but I wonder if she's being a little naive.

Question: I vaguely remember you mentioning there might be fantasy elements. How much? Like is there magic?

Will other races show up? Like I remember there was mention of the Zorians. I forgot the other races, except the Koriki.

I should also be upfront that I am a Link and Zelda shipper, or that I like that pairing more than others. Actually, I don't know if shipper is the right word since I've read stories where Link winds up with everyone else. Anyways, I know your story isn't about romance, but I did love the scenes that focused on the individuals, like the scene where Link took off his sunglasses and Zelda realized he was hot. The seeds have been planted and it would be a waste not to explore. On the other hand, I don't hold any illusions that Link and whatever female character you pair him up with are gonna declare their undying love for each other. While I really like the political and war feel, I also love the scenes that are focused just on characters. You write good length chapters and quality.

I don't know if you know motorcycles, I don't, but you certainly made me believe you did when you talked about Link and Zelda riding it during their escape from Hyrule capital. Awesome work. Can't wait to see the next update.

First off, I would like to thank you for submitting such a long and well-thought review. You have officially made my day, and I'm quite happy about it. Now, time to address your points.

One of the things about the power levels each nation holds is the fact that - supposedly - all three nations are supposed to keep each other in check through roughly-equivalent power. One of the big points in the current storyarc, after all, IS the confusion as to HOW Valent could've gotten such a head in technology. It basically came out of nowhere and blindsided both Hyrule and Gerudo, neither of which have successfully penetrated the veil of secrecy Valent has threw on itself for nearly two decades; neither Hyrule nor Gerudo had ANY idea what Valent was capable of, in the most basic terms. In fact, addressing this specific issue is a major plot point, and it will eventually be revealed.

For your question about me including fantasy elements...I can't reveal much. I can say that there will be something that seems like it's magic in the next chapter...but I can't tell you whether it's REALLY magic or not. You'll have to see for yourself. Also, there will be other races. If you've kept up on the Exoria Files, you'll see that Exoria File #005 makes a mention to the Zoras. They are still alive and well, and will be making an appearance in Exoria. Sadly, however, Gorons no longer exist - why they don't will eventually be explained - and although I won't confirm it outright, you shouldn't hold out hope that many of the other races are still out there. But who knows; one thing about writing is that you're never really sure about the details of the future, so we'll see.

I honestly know almost nothing about motorcycles, actually. I've only rode on one twice in my life as a passenger, and I personally think they feel rather haphazard. Before I wrote Chapter Three, I actually did not know where the accelerator was, so I had to do my research. I hope it actually came out as presentable.

I'm actually quite glad that you like my interaction scenes. I admit that I do write them better than I do action/combat scenes, but having to write about nothing-in-particular can be trying for me sometimes; I'm just somewhat glad I'm getting it right somewhere along the line, though. As you've probably figured out, I'm better at writing things relevant to the main plot.

Inbi: I must say, I am extremely impressed with the quality of this story and it's style of writing. You, Sir, put my abilities to shame. To SHAME.

I love how close to canon you have made this. Particularly Link's silent demeanor. I had one of those I-Can't-Believe-I-Didn't-think-Of-That moments. Kudos for pulling it off spectacularly, I'd imagine myself having a lot of trouble with a silent protagonist. I also enjoy the Triforce references. Valent, it's national color of green and specializing in air forces. Hyrule, it's color blue and specializing in the navy as well as intelligence. Gerudo, it's color red and specializing in pure ground force. Simply genius.

I look forward to Link's "dungeon crawling". I'm fascinated as to how you've modernized this, or simply how you've molded it to fit into a modernized world. I am particularly curious as to Valent's behavior. As well as Ganondorf's, no less. I can see him having abandoned the quest for ultimate power in this world, but he still seems awfully... friendly.

I can't wait to see if and when the goddess' ancient magic is brought into the plot, and how the characters interpret it. Has Valent already tapped into this? Perhaps that explains their revolutionary advances?

I look forward to finding out!

I'd say that you're too generous with your praise, but I guess every author must indulge in the feeling of having one's ego stroked. In any case, I thank you for your thoughtful review.

I am, for starters, glad that someone has begin to note a few of the smaller things that I've put into the story, such as each of the nations, their colors, and their corresponding specialties. In fact, with that chain of thought, I dare you to think even deeper into this, because if you get to a certain point, I suspect you may be able to predict quite a number of things up to the halfway point of the story. Of course, I'm afraid I won't spoil anything, but it's always fun to bait your readers and keep them guessing.

On the same vein, I also won't elaborate more on Valent's actions, Ganondorf's motives, and how this is connected to canon; you're just going to have to read and find out...and possibly do a lot of guesswork on the way. But it does seem that you'll do fine without me dropping loads of hints. So do keep it up, and please keep on following this piece of work; I have a feeling that I'm not going to let you down narrative-wise.

If you edited it your post to contain the actual chapters instead of posting up links, I could very well add this to the Fanfiction Showcase section. It seems you a put a lot of work into it, and gotten much further in your writing than most writers. Good job. :]

Originally Posted by brokenjoker

If you edited it your post to contain the actual chapters instead of posting up links, I could very well add this to the Facfiction Showcase section. It seems you a put a lot of work into it, and gotten much further in your writing than most writers. Good job. :]

I'd actually love to do it, if I had the time to find and reformat all those italics. If you know a speedy way to do it, I'm all ears. ^_^;

But thank you for your compliment. ^_^