[i]I most certainly will not.[/i]

Laureate-General Hyeun Tae-Kyeung stood patiently among the roaring crowd, near to the back beside his Chief of Staff, his personal Adjutant and the Lavanian Tribune. Brigadier General Ngoi-Hui stood to his right with a frown and a furrowed brow marring his normal visage; it was clear that even his high spirits had trouble dealing with the current situation. Back to his left, Colonel Kesor remained placid and stern in face with a clipboard pinned tightly to his uniformed torso, ready for use. 

The odd man out in multiple perspectives, Tribune Lucius Tibero grinned broadly. A sneer had formed across his aquiline features, no doubt taking a sick pleasure out of the ravings of the Nationalist High Command. He was no fascist, even if he thrived in the world, but the foreigner did have an undoubtedly sick sense of humor. A light chuckle escaped his lips as his gaze turned to read the emotions written across Hyeun's face.

"What's the matter, General? Something you ate?"

The Tribune snickered under his breath, flashing his smile towards Hyeun while his emerald green eyes bore deeply into him. They had enjoyed each other's company, for the most part, with the Tribune sharing many of the same interests and hobbies as Hyeun, but when it came to matters of Zengrav the Laureate-General found it difficult to urge his companion to sympathy. For Lucius, this was just more of the same he had experienced in his own country; manic leaders ranting about lopping off heads and killing all before them. It was just in a different country and a new language to spice it up.

"I swear, Lucius, these men would rather sate their desires than actually claim victory; the fools have forgotten how close we came to obliteration and that we stand here now only because of Lavania. It is short sighted and absentminded."

Lucius offered a poorly faked image of empathy across his face before his sneer returned. His lips were scarred, with circular marks running parallel to each other on either side of his mouth. It was a punishment in some Lavanian units, especially those from the coast, where troopers who spoke to often or in ways that displeased their commanding officers had their lips sewn shut. This would remain unchanged until such time as their voices were forgotten and further punishments came when they weren't responding to verbal commands with affirmatives. Lucius had imparted the story of his father, a Legatus at the time, punishing him in such a manner for the vainglorious act of referring to him as father; when at war he was Legatus or nothing and Lucius learned his lesson swiftly. 

"I must agree with you, General," came the more quiet response of Ngoi-Hui, his distaste having tugged back his lip in an ugly grimace, "It is as if some of them are fighting the Royalists simply to replace them as the new nobility."

"Would that it would be so sooner," quipped Lucius as he cleaned nails gingerly, "so that we could simply handle them ourselves. The Primus Populare has no interest in fawning oligarchs who play at war. I admire their fervor though; I imagine I might only find a more humorous lot in the Imperial Throne Room. At least between the boy and his Iron Fa-"

"Enough."

Lucius snickered again, wolfishly smiling towards Hyeun before shrugging innocently, his face suddenly a mask of obliviousness. As the cheering finally began to die down Lucius prowled off into the crowd as he often did, excited to find some manner of pleasure to take from the gathering. Ngoi-Hui saluted his commander and walked his separate way as well, making a beeline for one particular officer he was often known to cajole with. The two had served alongside each other in an earlier posting and had only learned relatively recently, in Seraat just before the loss of the city, that they had both coincidentally joined the Nationalists in unrelated actions. Kesor, Hyeun's Adjutant, remained slightly off to the side as his General's second shadow. With his posse now dispersed Hyeun made his move towards the seat at which Yesui sat. He would have words with her and they HAD to happen now.

She looked the part of a dictatorial tyrant, he had to admit; the facepaint and makeup had done little or even the opposite of reducing her frightening appearance and her slumped position made her look brooding and ferocious. As he closed the distance to her position at the head of the ruined church he mused on the fitting chamber in which this sad company was found. Decrepit, ruined by war, and actively falling apart from poor construction and its faulty foundations; an unfortunate picture to paint but one no less accurate for its content. 

Hyeun nodded to several officers and other Nationalist warlords he knew to be friendly or at least generally amenable to him and ignored those who scowled his way while muttering things under their breath. At last he closed to the slightly raised dias and bowed before rising and saluting in a clean but ultimately tired gesture.

"Great Leader," he intoned, echoing the title by which they had referred to her earlier, "I would speak with you in regards to our upcoming offensive. It is my desire to gain your approval and blessing for a change in tactical dispositions and general orders for all those commanders involved. Given even but a minute, Great Leader, and I assure you I could convince you of my plan's rectitude." 

[center][b]~~~~[/b][/center]

The rumble of the engines was deafening. 

Wind whipped around the sun-baked airstrip outside of Daozhi kicking up dust devils and throwing about the refuse of an active military base. The airstrip was a massive undertaking that had taken much of the Winter Reconstruction to get fully up and running but it had been worth every moment of it. Multiple prefab hangars dotted the landscape in tight, compact rows and barracks for the innumerable crewmen and pilots sat in organized squares beside the hangars of their aircraft. The fields were lined with aircraft, the freshly upgraded Shengli monoplanes, and just above the swarm of Airships only increased in density.

In the command and control center of the base, standing inside the control tower directing all of the going-ons of the base, stood the Laureate-General with his arms crossed behind his back patiently. He watched with grim satisfaction as he saw the next set of Di-Vu airboats loaded with a platoon's worth of Raider Marines take to the sky. Off to the right, at the widened and thoroughly flattened edge of the airstrip, large logistical craft were loaded with light armor, entire companies of Aeromarine grunts, and all the ammunition they would need for this great undertaking.

The plan had been underway for months, partially devised by Hyeun, and now the fruits of all that labor could be seen ripe for harvest. By now the majority of the airships were underway with the very last vestiges of the force being prepped for the attack on Delsai being loaded. The last two days had been spent getting the craft loaded and into the air, ready and waiting for the attack. Now all that was left on the ground in considerable number were the fighters and dive-bombers that would herald the attack to come, ready to launch as soon as the order was given. A pleasing sight, to be sure, and one a long time coming. Many of these troops had been present at Seraat, having escaped due in large part to the Laureate-General's daring breakout, and the chance to give back to the Royalists who had killed many of their friends and comrades was a tantalizing opportunity. Soon the dead could be truly put to rest knowing they had been avenged.

"So, what do you think? Shall we find success?"

Hyeun turned to look towards his friend and confidante, Major General Tse Tak-Sohng, to adequately respond to him; one does not speak to respected friends without giving them ample attention. A moment of consideration passed quite visibly on his face before he nodded affirmation, his brow furrowed in determination. Tse and Hyeun had been kept busy by the Great Leader during the planning stages of the battle and now at last they would see their plan in action; ideally, as a success.

"We shall not fail. That I am sure," uttered Hyeun almost breathlessly, exhaustion tinging his voice, "And within the week the so-called Great Northern Army will have surrendered. Let us hope they see reason and surrender to us before our Great Leader's forces put them to the sword. Such a waste of life . . . "

"Aye."

The tone was somber for the moment as the two considered the possibility that the enemy would refuse such overtures; these were professional troops who, even when desperate, could prove more loyal to the Emperor than to their own common sense. Particularly the noble officers, Hyeun thought. Just as he was about to continue the clanging of metal-shod boots on the gantry caught his attention. Colonel Naraanbatar Batbayar stomped up the steps before performing a neat if quick salute before lowering his hand and placing his cap right back onto his head. His mustache bristled as if, by a mind of its own, it willed him to action; the Minga/Bingal man was not known for inaction and the fight in him burned brightly in his eyes. 

"Generals. Sir, reporting as ordered, sir," he grunted, the edge of his lips hidden under his mustache starting to show a tinge of a smile, "Pleased to report that the Raiders are loaded and prepared; my boys are ready for anything you have for them, General."

"Good. Very good. See to it you are on the next airship out, I'll need you on the forefront of this attack. We undoubtedly expect heavy resistance from the enemy and your raiders may be necessary for what I aim to do. You have your orders, Colonel; I shall contact you over radio when the mission is ago."

"Aye sir; will there be anything else?"

Hyeun smiled then, a full smile without any hint of grimness or distaste. In this moment he would show his fellow Nationalists the righteousness of the Zhenxiang Jundui's methods and, hopefully, draw them towards his point of view. He could claim a victory here well beyond that of destroying armies. It would be here, in Delsai, that the Laureate-General intended to claim hearts and minds.

"Save them all, Colonel."