"yes your highness!" The special operations division killed themselves before his eyes. A single drop of blood falling against his cheek waking him from his trance.

'what have I done?' the single thought that manifested itself in his mind was not the one he expected. He was alive and his enemies were not. He should be ecstatic for this turn of events, yet here he had forced a dozen men to take their own lives. He stared at the corpses and let his thought mind organize the information in his head yet he couldn't help but turning his attention back to the dead soldiers around him.

To the outside observer his sigh could be mistaken for relief, but it was one of disappointment at such a foolish mistake."damn it, such a waste of resources"

Speaking to no one in particular he tried to organize his thoughts. "So what do we do now? Your surrounded by dead soldiers, unarmed, hunted by both sides, and your only weapons are your mind and an unknown power. "

He stared at the dead officer on the ground before him, allowing his head to tilt to one side as he thought out his next move. A few moments latter a smirk graced his lips as reached down to pull the officer's uniform from his body. Perhapses he had a few more resources then he first thought.

Walking among the bodies slowly the uniform came together. It took longer then he would of liked but it was difficult to piece a respectable uniform together from the blood soaked rags. But it was worth it, despite the fact it was a Britannian uniform, he had to admit he looked good.

Vanity aside the uniform would at least prevent the Britannia soldiers from attacking him. Although it wouldn't shield him from the terrorists moving through out the ghetto they would have fired upon him anyways because of the school uniform he was wearing; at the very least attempt to take him hostage. The fate of a hostage was never good when the military was involved, especially when there was numbers to place the blame on when the operation inevitably failed.

The pistol that came to rest at his waist was unexpectedly heavy, as if it bore the weight of the sins to come. With a final adjustment to the spare clips, his violet eyes cast one last glance about the warehouse before coming to rest upon the strange green haired woman that had died to save his life, but not before granting him the power to grant him vengeance.

He felt it before it registered with any of his other senses. Things were moving faster then he could have possibly hoped. Turning to face the approaching knightmare he waited for it to smash its way through the wall.

The debris shifted and fell from the frame's imposing form, with nothing more then a glance it was easy to figure out all the needed to know about the pilot.

He was pure blooded Britannian, but that was simple because only Britannians could pilot knightmares. Since it was a Sutherland the possibility of him being a member of the nobility was low. Nobility normally resisted front line combat in anything less then a squad command. There was always the chance that he was in fact a fallen noble who was reduced to a mere pilot but that was highly unlikely. He was probably a commoner with decent skills to merit the new mass produced frame and not the obsolete glaslow frame. The pilots next action would give away his identity and determine the next move should it be necessary.

"Soldier; Report, What happened to your squad?"

Arrogant, condescending, and demanding, he was diffidently a noble. And from his tone of entitlement he was a high ranking one, a fallen noble.

" Give me your knightmare." Lelouch gave the simple yet effective command as his geass flared and unleashed its power or at least it should have.

Jeremiah Gottwald found himself in an interesting position. The special forces division he was meant escort back to the mobile command center was very clearly dead, and the person responsible was standing directly in front of him. Well that was most likely the case but it was still possible the order he just received was a legitimate order and what he was about to do next would probably destroy his career, or what was left of it. Especially considering the uniform he wore.

"I said report! What happened to your squad!" Lelouch tried not to wince as the rebuke came from the frame in the form of a rifle burst over his head. Geass has limitation, and this was not a pleasant way discover one. If he survived he would have to experiment with it when he had the chance, but for now he would have to move carefully.

"I am Earl Arthur Weinberg, I have a priority message for his highness prince Clovis, one far more important than the fate of one insignificant squad"

An Earl?! Jeramiah would have winced within his cockpit had the man been a single title higher. As a margarve he would not have to worry about the social repercussions now all that remained was the man really who he claimed he was. If command could not confirm the report it would a simple matter the kill this man.

"….very well, I shall relay your report. Begin when ready."

The sweat started to bead on his brow as lelouch weighed his options. The most stressful moments of chess match against an unknown opponent were the opening moves, for they told everything about an opponent. How he responded to the next move would determine everything, was he a player? Or was he nothing more then a pawn?

"The message is of a sensitive nature, and for his highness' ears only, you do not have clearance. Again I order you to give me your knightmare." It was almost possible to hear the mans thoughts inside his frame. The frames slight movement would have gone unnoticed to more unskilled eyes. The pawn was struggling with his own mind.

Should he get out of his knightmare or not , was it a trap by the terrorists, more importantly what was the risk to his career if he ignored the prince's personal soldiers? What was the reward for passing on the information? But there was only one option that was truly available to him. Right or wrong, the result would be far better then if he chose otherwise.

"very well, his highness's message takes priority"

Lelouch stared up at the cockpit from beneath the rim of his cap. It was becoming increasingly difficult to suppress his smirk while waiting for the pilot make the biggest mistake of his soon to be very short life. Taking the proffered hand lelouch pulled himself up to the cockpit and right next to the pilot.