Disclaimer: I do not own Code Geass, Warhammer 40k, or Frozen.

A/N: This one is loosely related to the events in the third story of this collection, and the same disclaimer applies: whether or not it happened in the 50k-verse is up to the individual reader. Though I might expand this one after I get a bit further in Taking Flight on Broken Wings. I wouldn't be the first story in that crossover category, surprisingly.

Airstrike

A saying among the Black Knights Special Forces is "Any operation named after a flower will go wrong," and there are certainly many examples to support it. Almost as infamous as Operation Morning Glory is Operation Crocus Blossom. Any and all records are sealed under the highest levels of classification, and what few whispers exist are so unbelievable that many are outright convinced that Operation Crocus Blossom never actually happened. Proponents of this theory claim that Operation Crocus Blossom is an artificial trail of breadcrumbs deliberately planted by Black Knights Intelligence to distract from their actual activities.

Major Kaede Khachaturian, despite thousands of flight-hours, couldn't shake the nervousness as her aircraft leveled out follow atmospheric re-entry. Heavy snowstorms reduced visibility to nearly zero, and she could hardly see her four wingmen even as they fell into close formation behind her. To make matters worse, the sheer amount of Warp-stuff saturating the atmosphere played merry havoc with her instruments.

"Ground Control to Strike One-One. You are cleared for attack run."

From what little Major Khachaturian knew, "Ground Control" was little more than a tent set up on the closest shore to the target zone. Her counterpart on the ground was also clearly talking into a vox caster and not an in-built Knightmare communicator, if the sheer amount of background noise was anything to go by.

"Roger, Ground Control. Coordinates locked. Heading one-one-seven degrees. time on target three minutes."

"No!" a young woman's voice wailed, "She's still down there! Just give her a little more time!"

"She's been down there for nearly an hour!" Ground Control shot back, "Anything that comes back up won't be your sister anymore! It'll be a daemon wearing her body at best!"

There were sounds of a struggle, and the Major could make out at least two or three more voices. She couldn't help but wince at the sound of a nose breaking, followed by ceramic shattering under a vicious hook punch.

"Get her out of here!" Ground Control roared, uncaring of the hot mic, "You're authorized to use chemical restraints!"

"Strike One-One, time on target ninety seconds. Arming."

"Roger Strike One-One," Ground Control gritted out over the sounds of renewed struggle, "Transmitting arming codes."

The other voice, Major Khachaturian was fairly sure now, belonged to a local princess. Ground teams whispered about how she likely had some psychic potential of her own. Maybe not to the same extent as her older sister, and focused inwards rather than projected outwards, but clearly enough to give several seasoned soldiers a hard time.

"Strike One-One, attack run set east-to-west. Strike One-Two, take my six. Strike One-Three, Strike One-Four, attack run set north-to-south. Strike One-Five remain on standby."

Four vortex missiles were strapped under her aircraft's wings, and Kaede tried not to think too hard what could possibly be so dangerous that such weapons were considered proportionate response. Falling back to long-ingrained patterns, the Major disengaged the safeties and punched in the missile arming codes.

By now, the other voice was reduced to a streak of curses so foul that even Kaede blushed. Insults to Ground Control's lineage, and suggestions for acts anatomically-impossible and most likely downright heretical. The Major winced in sympathy as the voice grew steadily quieter, hitched, then dissolved into choked sobbing.

"Please," the voice begged, barely audible, "Don't do this. Just give her some more time..."

"Time on target thirty seconds. Reduce altitude to thirty meters."

The snowstorms had cleared up enough for the Major to see the water below and the enormous glacier that loomed in the distance. All for the best, as the Warp-stuff was now so thick that her instruments had given up entirely.

"Target in visual range. Approach locked in."

Major Khachaturian spared Strike One-Three and One-Four a quick glance as they peeled away at high speed. Strike One-Two slowly drifted closer as Strike One-Five climbed to higher altitude and began circling.

"Time on target, twenty seconds."

"Please..." the voice begged one final time before its owner collapsed to her knees.

Over the sobbing, Kaede barely made out the whirring of Knightmare servos as Ground Control crossed the floor in a few long strides. Though she had no way of being sure, the Major could swear she heard a single whispered phrase before turning to focus on her final approach.

"I'm sorry."

A/N: Truth be told, I had a whole sequence of events in my head pretty much since I wrote Chapter Three of this collection. Seeing Frozen II did give me some ideas to shift a few things around, this scene being one of them. Those who have seen the movie probably know what the strike target is (not sure how much crossover there really is between the two fanbases, though).