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Random scraplet that's been lying around my fic fragments folder. *shrugs*
Title: Some Constitutional Mayhem
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Girl Genius
Characters/Pairings: Klaus Wulfenbach, General Zog, jägers
Summary: When the gas-launchers take a hit, Klaus and Zog take down a Spark fortress the old-fashioned way. Even warlords need to get out and stretch their legs a bit now and then, especially when all the paperwork has been making them tetchy
Wordcount: 2024
Warnings/Notes: Pre-canon, mayhem, canon-typical violence, jägers, conquest, imperialism,
Disclaimer: Not mine
Title: Some Constitutional Mayhem
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Girl Genius
Characters/Pairings: Klaus Wulfenbach, General Zog, jägers
Summary: When the gas-launchers take a hit, Klaus and Zog take down a Spark fortress the old-fashioned way. Even warlords need to get out and stretch their legs a bit now and then, especially when all the paperwork has been making them tetchy
Wordcount: 2024
Warnings/Notes: Pre-canon, mayhem, canon-typical violence, jägers, conquest, imperialism,
Disclaimer: Not mine
Some Constitutional Mayhem
There was always a moment after the end of a battle where the world seemed oddly quiet and still. Like it was far away, an irrelevance. It was simply an effect of the adrenalin ebb, he knew that, but Klaus rather enjoyed it regardless. It was always rather peaceful.
"Vatch it, hyu idiot! Hy iz valking here!"
... And brief. Peaceful and brief. Somehow he always forgot that, right up until the lair started falling down or the explosions started or, in this case, until the verdamnt jägers began their usual impromptu post-battle comedy routine by dropping the erstwhile Duke on his rear. Again. Not that the Duke was in a fit state to complain, of course. Being at least temporarily dead would do that to you.
Klaus sighed raggedly, and reached up with the hand not currently holding a sword to pinch the bridge of his nose. Alright. Moment over. Fine, yes. Let's move on to the less than exciting part of things.
"General?" he called out, orientating himself towards the most imposing figure in the room by some margin. "Casualty reports?"
"Hrr," Zog rumbled, ambling over with a cheerful grin on his face. "Very few, Herr Baron. Ve iz havink zum trouble vit der orchestra downstairs, but odder den dot dey iz beink no problem at all. Ve iz havink dem for breakfast!"
Klaus raised an eyebrow. "Metaphorically speaking, of course," he commented, and more or less managed to match the evil grin sent his way. "What about their people, then. How many have we lost?"
Zog sobered a little bit. "Dot iz a diffrent story," he said, with something that honestly looked like disapproval. Probably not at the prospect of innocent lives being lost. More likely at the lack of challenge, or perhaps at the sheer proportion of 'innocents' compared to combatants. Forcing non-combatants to the fore instead of sending fighters was something the jägers did seem to disapprove of. "Ve ken get most ov dem beck, hy tink. Most ov der heads iz still intact. But der clenks voz herdink pipple ahead ov dem for cover. Most iz only vounded, und lots ov dem escaped tovards der kitchens, but ve had to keel sum too, hy'm afraid."
Klaus growled under his breath. "Of all the days for someone to land a lucky shot at the gas launchers," he sighed, sheathing his sword. "Remind me to up the redundancy on those systems before the next conflict, will you? I'm not dealing with this again."
To his credit, Zog only looked mild askance at him. "Hyu cannot alvays spare der enemy," he noted, leaning over to nudge Klaus' shoulder gently. "Hyu iz doink enuff already, vot vit buyink der armies out from under pipple und deployink der gas all der time. Sumtimes hyu chust haz bad luck, und den hyu haz to keel pipple. Iz der vay ov tings. Hyu might as vell enjoy it. Hyu hazn't had a good fight in ages. Hy tink it does hyu good, no?"
... Yes, unfortunately. It shouldn't. Being forced to kill unfortunate soldiers and civilians being herded to their doom by a twisted Spark should not set the blood sizzling in his veins and make him feel more alive than he had in weeks. But it did. Between the jägers, the increased deployability of the gas launchers, and getting enough infrastructure behind him to make hiring enemy armies outright a possibility, they'd been facing a lot less outright confrontation of late.
And it was, he had to admit, beginning to wear on him. Sometimes it felt like he was chasing it in his dreams - that moment of peace in the aftermath of battle. The sensation, the quietness that he rarely found anywhere else these days. For just that moment of peace, and the jolt of sheer energy that preceded it, he'd been missing the hum of battle far more than he should have been lately.
It couldn't be allowed to dictate his actions, however. The pleasure was nowhere near worth the cost.
"That's neither here nor there," he growled, scrubbing irritably at his hair. "My good mood or lack thereof is hardly a valid factor in military strategy. The gas launchers are more efficient, and less costly. We're fixing them."
Zog blew out a breath, but acquiesced with only the smallest of sarcastic edges, bowing slightly from the waist.
"Iz a good job hyu iz havink zo many fights," he muttered lightly. "Since hyu iz zo determined to make der individual ones zo borink. Hyu iz a conquering warlord, hyu know. Hyour mood iz a valid factor. Hyu could stand to liff a leedle und enjoy hyourself more, Herr Baron."
Klaus shot him a wry look. "How about we finish fixing Europa first, and then we can worry about my having a good time?" he asked. Seeing Zog's expression, he waved an acknowledging hand before the General could answer. "I know, I know. I'm being unbearable at the minute. I thought things would be easier once we had the Peace established, but instead they're almost worse. Politics are not my strong point, and administration only slightly better." He shook his head, and pointed a warning finger. "However, declaring war on somebody just to make me more personable again is really not a viable solution to that."
Bizarrely, Zog only chuckled in answer, shuffling sideways to sling a companionable arm around Klaus' shoulders. "Lucky for hyu, den," he rumbled happily, "hyu iz havink all of Europe to declare war for hyu. Even if hyu iz havink only leedle, borink fights, hyu iz goink to be havink lots ov dem. Vunderbar, no?"
"... Wonderful, yes," Klaus agreed drily. "That's certainly one word for it." He sighed. "Oh, let's get out of here, shall we? Let's go see how much of a mess everyone's made of the place."
"Right hyu iz!" Zog grinned, and all but picked Klaus up to turn them around and head back towards the central courtyard where, hopefully, somebody had started rounding up wounded and survivors already.
Somebody had, though. He could see it even as they moved back through the halls. Most clanks were still lying where they'd been felled, but aside from the odd bloodstain or body that had been too thoroughly killed to bring back, a lot of the wounded looked to have been cleared already. The pattern was odd, though. The circle of clearance should have been radiating inward into the palace from the courtyard, where the troops coming down from the airships would be congregating, but it wasn't. In fact, the rate of clearance appeared to decrease briefly as they moved towards the front of the palace, and then pick up again closer to the entrance hall and the grand courtyard. Almost as if there were two clearance operations in motion, one from the front and one from the back ...
Klaus slowed to a stop at the top of the grand staircase, feeling something rich and fat and entirely too happy stir in anticipation inside him. A little twinge of intuition, of patterns falling into place. He caught himself beginning to grin, the fizz of adrenalin swimming happily upwards once again, and noticed Zog pausing ahead of him to look back at him first warily, and then in bright, uncomplicated anticipation.
"Hyu iz seeink sumting," the General noted, leaning back eagerly. "Vot iz it, Klaus? Ve iz havink company?"
"Ve iz," Klaus agreed, and almost shook himself for it. "I mean, we are. Unless some of our people decided to take the initiative and start a second operation to our rear, that is."
He hummed, an old habit not exactly his own, while tracking a practised eye over the troops at the base of the stairs. More importantly, over their cargo. Wulfenbach wounded. Enemy bodies. But very, very few enemy wounded. Yes. Oh yes.
"We have survivors," he murmured. "We have survivors looking out for their own. They're pulling people out behind us. Unseen, more or less. But they can't be moving far. Not with these kinds of injuries." He tracked back mentally, and fixed on: "You said people were escaping towards the kitchens. The servant stairs and passages would be ... yes, that fits. Here, leave that. Come with me!"
He wheeled in place and darted back the way they'd come, not bothering to call out for accompaniment. He didn't want it, really. He didn't want an army, or even a bodyguard. Not now. Zog was right, damn him, he really was. Klaus wanted a fight, an adventure, something. Something that was more than an exercise in administrative warfare, carried out from afar. This didn't exactly promise much, probably nothing more than a few wounded, desperate people trying to hide, but still. It was something, and he could damn well handle it himself, couldn't he?
Well, along with Zog. But Zog probably deserved a little something himself at this point, so that was alright too.
"Ve iz goink alone, iz ve?" Zog asked, jogging after him with a wide and evil grin. "Hyu iz vanting a leedle excitement in hyour life after all?"
"Shut up and keep an eye out for blood trails," Klaus shot back, but cheerfully. Far too cheerfully to be justified. Oh, honestly. "They'll be heading for wall panels or the like. The Duke was the sort to want his servants out of sight and out of mind until he needed them. With the path the clanks took, and since they'll want to keep away from our troops where possible, we should be looking ... There!"
He jogged ahead, down the corridor past the ballroom and the entertaining laboratory (meaning a laboratory for entertaining in, not an amusing piece of architecture, and verdamnt, he needed to stop running a mental Spark-to-normal translation for people who weren't even here), towards a section of panelling with a hastily smeared set of blood trails in front of it that no longer quite terminated directly against it. Not exactly the most effective effort at disguising trails, but then he supposed they wouldn't have a lot of time, and it did speak well that they'd even thought of it at all. For initiative and caution, these people had already racked up some points in his books.
Now to see if they were going to lose all of them again by trying to mount an attack, or perhaps a secondary defence of a Spark already on his way to Klaus' labs.
"Stay with me," Klaus murmured, swinging open the panel and regarding the stairs downwards thoughtfully. "I heard something moving on the way up. They'll know we're coming, so there's no point hiding ourselves. But don't hurt anyone until you have to."
Zog sneered mildly at him. "Dis iz not my first hunt, sunshine," he answered, baring teeth happily at Klaus. "Hyu don't spooks dem until hyu iz vanting to, tank hyu, hy remember dis, yes." He shook his head. "Any odder advice for der jäger, vhile hyu iz at it?"
Klaus laughed, a spontaneous sound that bubbled out of him, more mirth than he'd shown in ages, and something bright and pitying and pleased appeared in the General's eyes. For the love of aeronautics. He really had been unbearable of late, hadn't he? Enough that even the jägers were starting to feel sorry for him.
Oh, blast it all anyway, then. He was already here, wasn't he? This once, when the shit had already hit the fan, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to try improving the warlord's mood a little bit.
He could call it a morale booster. Goodness knew it'd cheer the jägers up, if nothing else. And a happy jäger was nothing to be sneezed at.
"... You know what?" he said, baring his teeth in a look that was about fifteen years out of place, and still entirely and perhaps disturbingly natural for him. "Why don't you try to keep up with me, old man, and we'll see?"
What the hell. A little constitutional adventuring to get the blood up and give a friendly monster the chance to thump him some never did him any harm.
Other people ... were perhaps a different story.
There was always a moment after the end of a battle where the world seemed oddly quiet and still. Like it was far away, an irrelevance. It was simply an effect of the adrenalin ebb, he knew that, but Klaus rather enjoyed it regardless. It was always rather peaceful.
"Vatch it, hyu idiot! Hy iz valking here!"
... And brief. Peaceful and brief. Somehow he always forgot that, right up until the lair started falling down or the explosions started or, in this case, until the verdamnt jägers began their usual impromptu post-battle comedy routine by dropping the erstwhile Duke on his rear. Again. Not that the Duke was in a fit state to complain, of course. Being at least temporarily dead would do that to you.
Klaus sighed raggedly, and reached up with the hand not currently holding a sword to pinch the bridge of his nose. Alright. Moment over. Fine, yes. Let's move on to the less than exciting part of things.
"General?" he called out, orientating himself towards the most imposing figure in the room by some margin. "Casualty reports?"
"Hrr," Zog rumbled, ambling over with a cheerful grin on his face. "Very few, Herr Baron. Ve iz havink zum trouble vit der orchestra downstairs, but odder den dot dey iz beink no problem at all. Ve iz havink dem for breakfast!"
Klaus raised an eyebrow. "Metaphorically speaking, of course," he commented, and more or less managed to match the evil grin sent his way. "What about their people, then. How many have we lost?"
Zog sobered a little bit. "Dot iz a diffrent story," he said, with something that honestly looked like disapproval. Probably not at the prospect of innocent lives being lost. More likely at the lack of challenge, or perhaps at the sheer proportion of 'innocents' compared to combatants. Forcing non-combatants to the fore instead of sending fighters was something the jägers did seem to disapprove of. "Ve ken get most ov dem beck, hy tink. Most ov der heads iz still intact. But der clenks voz herdink pipple ahead ov dem for cover. Most iz only vounded, und lots ov dem escaped tovards der kitchens, but ve had to keel sum too, hy'm afraid."
Klaus growled under his breath. "Of all the days for someone to land a lucky shot at the gas launchers," he sighed, sheathing his sword. "Remind me to up the redundancy on those systems before the next conflict, will you? I'm not dealing with this again."
To his credit, Zog only looked mild askance at him. "Hyu cannot alvays spare der enemy," he noted, leaning over to nudge Klaus' shoulder gently. "Hyu iz doink enuff already, vot vit buyink der armies out from under pipple und deployink der gas all der time. Sumtimes hyu chust haz bad luck, und den hyu haz to keel pipple. Iz der vay ov tings. Hyu might as vell enjoy it. Hyu hazn't had a good fight in ages. Hy tink it does hyu good, no?"
... Yes, unfortunately. It shouldn't. Being forced to kill unfortunate soldiers and civilians being herded to their doom by a twisted Spark should not set the blood sizzling in his veins and make him feel more alive than he had in weeks. But it did. Between the jägers, the increased deployability of the gas launchers, and getting enough infrastructure behind him to make hiring enemy armies outright a possibility, they'd been facing a lot less outright confrontation of late.
And it was, he had to admit, beginning to wear on him. Sometimes it felt like he was chasing it in his dreams - that moment of peace in the aftermath of battle. The sensation, the quietness that he rarely found anywhere else these days. For just that moment of peace, and the jolt of sheer energy that preceded it, he'd been missing the hum of battle far more than he should have been lately.
It couldn't be allowed to dictate his actions, however. The pleasure was nowhere near worth the cost.
"That's neither here nor there," he growled, scrubbing irritably at his hair. "My good mood or lack thereof is hardly a valid factor in military strategy. The gas launchers are more efficient, and less costly. We're fixing them."
Zog blew out a breath, but acquiesced with only the smallest of sarcastic edges, bowing slightly from the waist.
"Iz a good job hyu iz havink zo many fights," he muttered lightly. "Since hyu iz zo determined to make der individual ones zo borink. Hyu iz a conquering warlord, hyu know. Hyour mood iz a valid factor. Hyu could stand to liff a leedle und enjoy hyourself more, Herr Baron."
Klaus shot him a wry look. "How about we finish fixing Europa first, and then we can worry about my having a good time?" he asked. Seeing Zog's expression, he waved an acknowledging hand before the General could answer. "I know, I know. I'm being unbearable at the minute. I thought things would be easier once we had the Peace established, but instead they're almost worse. Politics are not my strong point, and administration only slightly better." He shook his head, and pointed a warning finger. "However, declaring war on somebody just to make me more personable again is really not a viable solution to that."
Bizarrely, Zog only chuckled in answer, shuffling sideways to sling a companionable arm around Klaus' shoulders. "Lucky for hyu, den," he rumbled happily, "hyu iz havink all of Europe to declare war for hyu. Even if hyu iz havink only leedle, borink fights, hyu iz goink to be havink lots ov dem. Vunderbar, no?"
"... Wonderful, yes," Klaus agreed drily. "That's certainly one word for it." He sighed. "Oh, let's get out of here, shall we? Let's go see how much of a mess everyone's made of the place."
"Right hyu iz!" Zog grinned, and all but picked Klaus up to turn them around and head back towards the central courtyard where, hopefully, somebody had started rounding up wounded and survivors already.
Somebody had, though. He could see it even as they moved back through the halls. Most clanks were still lying where they'd been felled, but aside from the odd bloodstain or body that had been too thoroughly killed to bring back, a lot of the wounded looked to have been cleared already. The pattern was odd, though. The circle of clearance should have been radiating inward into the palace from the courtyard, where the troops coming down from the airships would be congregating, but it wasn't. In fact, the rate of clearance appeared to decrease briefly as they moved towards the front of the palace, and then pick up again closer to the entrance hall and the grand courtyard. Almost as if there were two clearance operations in motion, one from the front and one from the back ...
Klaus slowed to a stop at the top of the grand staircase, feeling something rich and fat and entirely too happy stir in anticipation inside him. A little twinge of intuition, of patterns falling into place. He caught himself beginning to grin, the fizz of adrenalin swimming happily upwards once again, and noticed Zog pausing ahead of him to look back at him first warily, and then in bright, uncomplicated anticipation.
"Hyu iz seeink sumting," the General noted, leaning back eagerly. "Vot iz it, Klaus? Ve iz havink company?"
"Ve iz," Klaus agreed, and almost shook himself for it. "I mean, we are. Unless some of our people decided to take the initiative and start a second operation to our rear, that is."
He hummed, an old habit not exactly his own, while tracking a practised eye over the troops at the base of the stairs. More importantly, over their cargo. Wulfenbach wounded. Enemy bodies. But very, very few enemy wounded. Yes. Oh yes.
"We have survivors," he murmured. "We have survivors looking out for their own. They're pulling people out behind us. Unseen, more or less. But they can't be moving far. Not with these kinds of injuries." He tracked back mentally, and fixed on: "You said people were escaping towards the kitchens. The servant stairs and passages would be ... yes, that fits. Here, leave that. Come with me!"
He wheeled in place and darted back the way they'd come, not bothering to call out for accompaniment. He didn't want it, really. He didn't want an army, or even a bodyguard. Not now. Zog was right, damn him, he really was. Klaus wanted a fight, an adventure, something. Something that was more than an exercise in administrative warfare, carried out from afar. This didn't exactly promise much, probably nothing more than a few wounded, desperate people trying to hide, but still. It was something, and he could damn well handle it himself, couldn't he?
Well, along with Zog. But Zog probably deserved a little something himself at this point, so that was alright too.
"Ve iz goink alone, iz ve?" Zog asked, jogging after him with a wide and evil grin. "Hyu iz vanting a leedle excitement in hyour life after all?"
"Shut up and keep an eye out for blood trails," Klaus shot back, but cheerfully. Far too cheerfully to be justified. Oh, honestly. "They'll be heading for wall panels or the like. The Duke was the sort to want his servants out of sight and out of mind until he needed them. With the path the clanks took, and since they'll want to keep away from our troops where possible, we should be looking ... There!"
He jogged ahead, down the corridor past the ballroom and the entertaining laboratory (meaning a laboratory for entertaining in, not an amusing piece of architecture, and verdamnt, he needed to stop running a mental Spark-to-normal translation for people who weren't even here), towards a section of panelling with a hastily smeared set of blood trails in front of it that no longer quite terminated directly against it. Not exactly the most effective effort at disguising trails, but then he supposed they wouldn't have a lot of time, and it did speak well that they'd even thought of it at all. For initiative and caution, these people had already racked up some points in his books.
Now to see if they were going to lose all of them again by trying to mount an attack, or perhaps a secondary defence of a Spark already on his way to Klaus' labs.
"Stay with me," Klaus murmured, swinging open the panel and regarding the stairs downwards thoughtfully. "I heard something moving on the way up. They'll know we're coming, so there's no point hiding ourselves. But don't hurt anyone until you have to."
Zog sneered mildly at him. "Dis iz not my first hunt, sunshine," he answered, baring teeth happily at Klaus. "Hyu don't spooks dem until hyu iz vanting to, tank hyu, hy remember dis, yes." He shook his head. "Any odder advice for der jäger, vhile hyu iz at it?"
Klaus laughed, a spontaneous sound that bubbled out of him, more mirth than he'd shown in ages, and something bright and pitying and pleased appeared in the General's eyes. For the love of aeronautics. He really had been unbearable of late, hadn't he? Enough that even the jägers were starting to feel sorry for him.
Oh, blast it all anyway, then. He was already here, wasn't he? This once, when the shit had already hit the fan, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to try improving the warlord's mood a little bit.
He could call it a morale booster. Goodness knew it'd cheer the jägers up, if nothing else. And a happy jäger was nothing to be sneezed at.
"... You know what?" he said, baring his teeth in a look that was about fifteen years out of place, and still entirely and perhaps disturbingly natural for him. "Why don't you try to keep up with me, old man, and we'll see?"
What the hell. A little constitutional adventuring to get the blood up and give a friendly monster the chance to thump him some never did him any harm.
Other people ... were perhaps a different story.
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