MPC 89X/42B: Joint Operations [Bezil/Owen]

I would like bits for this account please.

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It is common knowledge that when a digimon is born from the data of two parents that they retain some of that data in their memory. Usually it’s only enough so that they gain characteristics or memories from their parents, but not enough to overtake that child digimon’s life as they live it.

Yet, in his weakened, sick state, Bezil was indeed experiencing the memories of his father Owen as he remembered them in his previous life as Jaelin. Not directly, but the memories were being melded with Bezil’s own memories and experiences, so that the Gumdramon would view it in a way his mind would comprehend.

Indeed, in that life, Owen did participate in such missions, but this one was particularly prominent in his data. For what reason, Bezil would eventually find out.

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The new orders came swiftly, at least in Bezil’s mind. The next thing he would experience would be a briefing session where he was watching the officers brief them on their next mission. He looked at the map they were standing in front of – the DWR’s front lines marked in blue, the enemy’s in red. There were a bunch of arrows and numbers on it that he didn’t quite understand, but Colonel Rhine Gokuwmon was explaining their objectives clearly.

“We’ll be attacking the enemy in their weak spot.” he began. “They have an exposed position into our territory and have been pouring digimon and equipment into it, obviously wanting to use it as a springboard for an offensive toward our capital. Intelligence tells us that Tactimon himself is present."

The name ‘Tactimon’ had a chilling effect on the room. Bezil was confused at first, but Rhine continued.

“Tactimon is the leader of the rebel forces. As you know, he once served as a chief General on the DWR’s military council. But he has since turned traitor and now means to attack our home and destroy everything we hold dear. Thus, we must strike now while we can, we’ll cut him off from his forces, and give our own forces the chance to surround and destroy him.”

Bezil could see the situation on the map fairly well. If the two pincers of DWR forces could cut off the salient, they would indeed make Tactimon’s forces isolated and vulnerable.

“Thus, this will be a joint operation.” Rhine continued. “From our position on the Southern pincer, 71st Recon will combine with 9th Armored and 47th Aerial Divisions, as well as the 12th, 58th and 105th Infantry divisions to punch through and rendezvous with the Northern pincer at the village of Fyan Springs.”

At this point, Bezil was a little confused. Why were they going so bad in this war if there was at least 105 divisions? As far as he knew, each division had hundreds of digimon, he just had to ask. “Lieutenant… can I ask a question?” he whispered to Skye.

“What is it?” Skye whispered in response.

“Why are we doing so badly if we have over 100 divisions?”

“Because we don’t. We only have about 30. We inflate the numbers to confuse the enemy.” Skye explained. Bezil understood then, and sighed. So that’s why the DWR was falling. Most of it only existed on paper, no, worse than that. By hearsay. Skye patted his shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry, the divisions we have are real and we can punch through that opposition. Our intelligence is always reliable with the numbers, and we’ve got a 90% chance of pulling through. And even if we can’t pull it off fully, we’ll do enough damage to them to make them pull off their attack.”

Bezil only hoped that was true.

Next, Rhine described their tactics. The Armored division would punch through the enemy defences, supported by the Aerial division to zero in on targets and provide cover for the following units. With the backing of the fast moving Recon division, they were to take out all targets that would be too much for the Infantry, who would mop things up after their advance and secure it. While most of it went over Bezil’s head, he at least understood the underlying goals of the mission. They advance, destroy the supply lines of the enemy to cut them off, then wipe out the isolated enemy. At least in his eyes it worked out. Eventually the briefing ended, and Captain Jaelin called Bezil over for a quiet after-briefing.

“What is it, sir?” Bezil asked as they spoke behind the tent.

“Since you can evolve to Arresterdramon, Bezil, I’m assigning you as my wingman.” Jaelin said. “We’re going to fly above our forces to deal with aerial threats. Your presence alone should be enough to hold off anything they might have for us in the air, especially with the 47th Aerial there too, but, I want you to be alert to any and all threats that await us, and deal with them. Can I rely on you to do that?”

In this moment, Bezil remembered his father Owen asking very similar things from him, that he’d never ask him to do anything he wasn’t confident in doing. But Bezil felt confident here. “Yes, d- I mean, sir, you can rely on me.”

Jaelin’s eyes widened a little at Bezil’s suspicious stutter, but he chose to make nothing out of it. Instead, he took a more solemn expression.

"They have one of our soldiers at Fyan Springs." Jaelin continued. "Lance Corporal Terry. He's a Terriermon, obviously, those bastards have been playing their games with him ever since, forcing him to make statements in videos to goad us. I want to get him back alive. He's one of us, he deserves that from us. Understand, Bezil?"

"Yes, sir." Bezil replied, knowing now why this was so important to Jaelin now.

“Alright then. Assemble with the rest of the squad, we’ll move out when ready.” he said. Bezil shivered a little, both from the fever, and from the emotional toll this dream was starting to press on him.

As they advanced through the dawn, the fighting got worse. More attacks and projectiles were sent up at them, more of the enemy made a stand, and more of their allies were drawn into protracted battles rather than simply breaking through the lines as they had.

Deep down, Bezil knew the reality of it. After all, if an enemy force took on his own family and friends in Ys like this, he’d fight just as hard. But, as time went on, when he saw more and more digimon fight to the death in the onslaught led by his own father, he began to feel an odd feeling. It was familiar, of course it was, it was the data of Owen’s memories stirring something significant within him. It wasn’t a happy feeling, but it was one that he had felt in the hurricane in Whitewater; at the Golden Rocks where he and his loved family had almost been killed. It was simultaneously a feeling of dread, and a feeling of grim determination.

The DWR Army in Bezil’s fever dream advanced, and he twitched and grunted in his sleep as the dream turned to a nightmare. The resistance to their offensive became more and more bitterly opposed. The Rhinomons’ shields could only provide so much protection, the Tankmons’ guns and the Pteranomons’ missiles could only provide so much firepower.

It came to the point where attackers and defenders clashed in an almighty fight.

To Bezil’s horror, it was at this moment that the enemy sent their Perfect levels into the fight to cripple their spearheads. He saw two of them fly up at them. A Paildramon tried to take out Captain Jaelin from behind, but his instincts were honed enough so that he turned to take him on immediately.

However, that just left Bezil as the only remaining covering force for the rest of the Recon forces below. And sure enough, he was sought out as a target by another enemy Perfect level.

It was a wonder that he could remain in flight, what with all his armor, but the enemy Butenmon made his presence known in front of Bezil, raising his sword.

“Don’t worry too much about your future, Arresterdramon.” the armored bird digimon spoke with malice. “It won’t last much longer, but I’ll allow you the privilege of pointing your head toward our new Emperor Tactimon upon his coronation ceremony.”

These words provoked a reaction so visceral from within Bezil that he almost felt like he was in another body. He hadn’t felt so much hatred since the battle of the Golden Rocks. He tried to think of something appropriate to say in response. All he could come up with was ”Lightstream!” and he then launched a beam of ravaging light at Butenmon’s face. The enemy raised his greatsword to block it, and the dance of combat began.

It all went fuzzy in Bezil’s mind from here, yes, he wanted all his enemies destroyed, but, in his feverish dream state, its coherence mostly fell apart. In his sleep, Bezil twitched and groaned as he struggled to deal with the memories that were playing out in his mind. At the very least, he recalled the memories of destroying Butenmon before he could do the same to him. But eventually, a moment of clarity surged in front of his eyes.

In this moment, Bezil felt terror, sadness and fear at the situation. He perceived the whole front of the battle in full combat, digimon doing the worst to other digimon. At the very least, none on the DWR side did something as existentially monstrous as load the data of their fallen enemies, but the enemy was not so forgiving, and he felt the outrage about this fact. But a voice shook him from this moment.

“BEZIL!” Jaelin roared. “You snap out of your daze right now!!”

Bezil struggled to do so, it was all so stifling, so terrible. “Sir… they’re killing everyone…”

“THIS is WAR!!” Jaelin snarled in response. “You’re my Wingman, remember?! You said you would follow my orders! And I’m ordering you to pay attention before one of us or someone we care about gets killed, alright?!”

Bezil flinched at this, he knew the only thing he could say in response that was appropriate was “Yes, sir…”

“Then target those bastards and kill them!” Jaelin roared. Bezil did so, but felt no pleasure from it. It was all so wrong, so very wrong to him, but… this was what the reality of it was in those days.

Eventually, the coordinated attack succeeded. The southern pincer of the joint offensive reached the objective of Fyan Springs. After the combined forces had destroyed the enemy in the way, they entered the settlement, captured the enemy garrison and moved to rescue their allied prisoners.

“Bezil! With me!” Jaelin ordered the Arresterdramon as they were reunited with those that were captured. Jaelin marched right up to the Terriermon dressed in a 7/71st tunic, the rank of Lance Corporal on his sleeves, his black eyes watering with grief.

“Sir, you shouldn’t be here.” he said.

“Terry, you’re a part of my unit, of course I should be here.” Jaelin replied. “I would never leave any of you behind.”

“Yes, sir, but, they know that too, and they used me as bait.” Terry stated. “Now you’re in their trap. They’re coming to see what they’ve caught.”

“Nonsense, they’re making a launchpad for the capital, and we just cut them off.” Jaelin argued.

“No, sir. They destroyed the Northern pincer, they let you advance this far, now they’re coming to cut us off now.” Terry replied, tears dripping from his eyes. “I’m… I’m sorry that I let myself become bait for this to happen, sir, but, they planned this out from the very start.”

The feeling of horror and despair was difficult for Bezil to deal with. He burst awake, gasping. At the very least, his fever hadn’t worsened, but, it seemed his horrible dream of the memories of Jaelin that existed within him would continue to play out.