(Roadkill here, pretties! I'm taking a little hiatus from Feet First! in order to keep it fresh. Plus I've got an idea I want to run with for a little while and I can't seem to concentrate on my flagship fic while this is bouncing around inside my skull. I promise I'll release more Feet First! soon enough, but for now please enjoy this little sideshow.
So, preface. My idea involves an AU of Code Geass in which three things are different from the original show. First, the United States existed before the Holy Britannian Empire but was conquered by said empire just after the Revolutionary War. Second, the descendants of the United States have called themselves the Confederate Resistance Front and have become a nation of rebels currently in control of Antarctica, living in cities built under the ice cap. And third, in the final battle, Lelouche lost. Schnizel is now the ninety-ninth emperor of the Empire. Cornelia has been leading a small band of resistance fighters (the ones seen in the final episode of Code Geass) against her brother. Britannia pretty much has the entire world by the short ones at this point.
The exception to this complete and total world domination is the nation that hardly anyone knows exists. Any who approach Antarctica vanish, even entire fleets. This is because the CRF has created a counter to Knightmares and sakuradite technology: biometal tech. Biometal (from the 1998 PC game Battlezone, the Nintendo64 port Battlezone: Rise of the Black Dogs, the expansion The Red Odyssey, and the sequel Battlezone II: Combat Commander. Biometal is a highly adaptable material that can be altered to form nearly anything: armor plates, delicate airfoils, heat shielding, engine components, and even the windows of a vehicle. It can also be used to form anti-gravity lifters, which is what makes the hovertanks possible. That same tech is applied to the CRF's carriers, which are (in this fic) comparable to Britannian flying battleships.
I ought to make this clear: I will be using modded versions of Battlezone II for my reference material. Why? Because I'm a modder, been doing it since I was eleven. Plus I want there to be some variety in the CRF units. Therefore we'll have the silver-painted Home Fleet units, the yellow Black Dog craft, the black Raven's Claw Elite Guard, and the plain orange CRF regular forces. The mods I will be basing things off of are as follows:
BZ2 EPIC Mod (created by the late, great Slaor. Rest in peace, good buddy!) for pretty much everything.
Fleshstorm (created by Lizard) for the Black Dog units and properties
Fleshstorm 2: The Harvest (created by BigBadBogie) for the Raven's Claw Elite Guard
Forgotten Enemies (the Battlezone II Community Project) for the EDF paint schemes (for the Home Fleet in my fic) and two units.
Also, I am not a fan of BZ2's lack of small arms. The best you get is a rocket launcher or a pulse rifle that also acts as a sniper weapon. While I will keep the pulse rifle, I will be requisitioning some new weapons for the CRF foot soldiers. I'm going to use the non-alien weapons from the Ballistic Weapons mod for Unreal Tournament 2004 as a source of inspiration. A shout out goes to RuneStorm, because their mod is amazing. Plus it's a perfect blend of traditional weapons (such as the M50, a next-gen version of the venerable M16) and more futuristic tools of warfare that would fit perfectly with the Code Geass level of tech (such as the Tactical Infantry Cannon, a man-portable railgun cannon capable of punching right through a tank.)
Disclaimer: I do not own Battlezone, Battlezone II, or Code Geass. BZ is a trademark of Atari, Activision, and Pandemic Studios. C.G. is a trademark of… someone. Not me. I gain no profit from writing this other than my own personal enjoyment and the sick sexual thrill I get from writing scenes of carnage and chaos.)
Chapter I: Black Dogs and Britannians…
"My report is titled 'The History of the Black Dog Battalion and Its Role in Confederate History," a young boy said. The child, a blond boy with sparkling green eyes and a cheerful face, was standing before his fourth-grade class and reading from the paper he'd written. "From the beginning of our nation, the Black Dog Battalion has been important to our people's fates. They were formed from the religious 'Order of the Black Dog,' a sect of Catholicism that teaches honor and courage in battle as the path to Heaven. In 1778, when the United States of America won its independence from England, the newly-formed Holy Britannian Empire made its own offensive on the new nation. Unfortunately for the United States of America, their battle-weary forces could not resist the fresh and far richer armies of the Empire. In one year the tiny Empire consumed the United States of America. During the final days of war the Order of the Black Dog was hired to back the USA's own armies while the people still loyal to the dying nation fled westward. The Order fought time and time again and sometimes singlehandedly prolonged the life of the American rebels. Eventually they were assimilated into the armies of the uprooted nation as the world's first true special forces unit.
"The United States of America re-branded itself the Confederated Resistance Front. The nation eventually settled on the North and South islands of New Zealand. It was there that the Confederacy remained largely hidden from the world for many years. Fearing discovery and an attack from Britannia, the Confederacy began to create military installations beneath the ice of Antarctica for the purpose of researching new weapons systems. It was here that biometal, the basis of all of our technology, was invented. The biometal research made our modern military weapons, like hovertanks and mobile unit factories, possible. Biometal tanks made the colonization of Antarctica a much quicker and easier process and helped prepare a fighting force that could hold its own against the Knightmare Frames developed by Britannia.
"It was here that the Confederacy made a critical mistake. They revealed themselves to two other nations: the Chinese Federation and the United Soviet Socialist Republics. A treaty was drawn up: the U.S.S.R. and China would each loan the Confederacy a large army, and in return that army would bring back biometal technology. Each force quickly adapted the biometal technology to their own specifications, resulting in well-known variants such as the nimble Flanker scout craft and the venerable Czar tanks used by the U.S.S.R. and the deadly Naga light tanks and gun-heavy Adder mobile turrets created by the Chinese Federation. But spies within the U.S.S.R. passed the knowledge of the Confederacy and its biometal technology to Britannia, and in 2011 the South Island of New Zealand came under attack.
"A Britannian fleet under the command of Princess Cornelia li Britannia launched a surprise assault during a winter storm in December of 2011. Using the storm for cover, the Britannian forces launched a massive attack against the largest of the three main naval shipyards on the Southern Island. In the time it took the nearby Soviet outpost to respond the entire shipyard was under Britannian control. The Britannians were able to use the shipyard as a staging area for the rest of their forces, which consisted of well over seventy thousand troops plus more than twelve thousand Knightmare Frames.
"The fighting raged on as the Southern Island was lost to the Britannians. However, by the time the enemy reached the Northern Island the Confederate forces had pulled together a strong defense that would allow most of the civilians to be evacuated. The battle, which was fought in multiple areas along a single front, was a costly one for both sides. But eventually only one district remained to be evacuated. It was here that the Black Dog Battalion showed their true strength. In order to buy time, Commander Roland Harris led a total of forty Black Dog units into the face of the oncoming Britannian army. Those forty men and women held off the entire attacking force long enough for the remaining Confederate forces and civilians to be evacuated. Once the evacuations were complete Commander Harris ordered his units to scatter out over the ocean. This action gave the Britannians no plausible vector to search upon. The Black Dogs managed to simultaneously secure their own safety and the secrecy of the Antarctica colonies, although at a steep cost. Of the forty brave men and women that first engaged the Princess and her Knights only twelve survived the battle.
"Returning to Antarctica wouldn't be the homecoming they'd expected though. The Black Dogs almost immediately found themselves embroiled in a three-way civil war between the remaining Soviet, Chinese, and Confederate forces. The war would have been a long and bloody one had the Black Dogs not stepped in and simultaneously crushed the ranking Chinese and Soviet officers and their guards. From then on all forces were assimilated into the Confederate Defense Forces.
"In the end, the Black Dog Battalion has been the key to our nation's survival for more than two hundred years. Although they have left the center stage for right now, there can be no doubt that their forces will always be there to protect the people of the Confederacy when our enemies threaten us."
The teacher smiled, pleasantly surprised by her students report. "That was very good James, although I am a bit surprised at your choice in subject matter. If I might ask, why did you choose to do your report on the Black Dog Battalion? And why did you decide to leave out the Braddock Scandal?" The young boy's face went red at his teacher's words.
"Because! Braddock was a bad man but the Black Dogs were just trying to do what was best! My brother's a Black Dog and I know he wouldn't do something bad like that!" The boy sounded hysterical, prompting the teacher to usher him out into the hallway. As the two left a girl in the class that looked very much like the emotional boy stared down at her desk, tears welling up in her eyes.
0o0o0
An enormous warship hung in the air over the Antarctic coast, reflecting sunlight off of its yellow-painted hull. The sixteen-hundred-foot airship was a boxy shape akin to a train engine. The name of this ship, the Midnight Angel, was painted on its flank near the bow. Its flat nose and bulky construction gave the impression that the ship was slow and lumbering, but in fact it was neither. It could easily outrun and outmaneuver comparable Britannian warships, which had led to the ship scoring a number of successful kills in various skirmishes. Of course, Britannia never knew what happened to their missing ships and soldiers. All they knew was that Antarctica was a no-fly zone for them, because nothing that ever went down there ever came back.
Within one of the ship's massive hangar bays were a number of vehicles in various holding stations. They varied in shapes and sizes but they all had two things in common. First, all but two red hulls at one end were painted a dull yellow and bore the same emblem: a snarling dog's head and red collar over a yellow circle. The second was their condition. Many of the craft were riddled with bulletholes, burn marks, and other damage. On top of that they were all absolutely filthy, each one stained with grime and dirt and soot from long years of fighting.
A small group of pilots dressed in lightly-armored yellow flight suits were working on their respective rides in the hangar, chatting idly as they did so. The vehicles they were working on were all the same model: the HS-04 "Thunderbolt" scout hovertank. These Thunderbolts had a somewhat triangular body, twin guns mounted beneath metal shrouds on either side of the cockpit, a glass canopy that slid forward along the body to allow the pilot to enter and exit, and a rather large turbine engine near the back. There were also four stubby stabilizer wings mounted on movable arms to help with stability and maneuvering.
One of the Black Dog pilots stood at the side of his vehicle, running his hand over the hull fondly. This man, of average height and slender build, had a pair of bright green eyes beneath a mess of sand-colored hair. He had the insignia of a captain on his collar and his wrists. His ride was more beat-up and dirtier than the rest, having seen even harsher combat than the rest during its lifetime. The captain didn't care, however. His ride was his best friend. Even now, as the craft was pushing five years old, the captain was still trying to keep the machine in the best operating condition he could. Five years may not be a long time, but those five years had been filled with insurrections and skirmishes against the ever-probing Britannian forces who couldn't figure out why none of their Antarctic expeditions ever reported in after they approached the icy continent. The Thunderbolt showed signs of
As the crew worked on their respective vehicles, one of the pilots approached the captain. She was a tall woman with jet-black shoulder-length hair and icy blue eyes. A long scar ran across her throat and there were several burns on her face, including ones hidden behind an eyepatch she wore over her left eye. Of the entire squad, only the captain had seen more combat than she had. She was also the lowest-ranking of the original twelve survivors of New Zealand, being a First Lieutenant.
"Captain," the woman said. "Shouldn't you be on shore leave right now?"
The captain turned to his second-in-command. Like her, he was also a member of the New Zealand Twelve. The battles they'd shared had built a strong friendship between the two warriors. "Like you have any room to talk," he said. "Aren't you supposed to be a newlywed?"
"Duty comes first," the woman said, although her cheeks did turn a very faint shade of pink. "David knows I've got an important job to do."
"Some important job," the captain grumbled, turning back to his ride. "We've been on patrol for a week now with nothing to show for it but a Britannian fishing boat that got lost." The captain shook his head and leaned against his vehicle. Near his arm his name could be seen written just below the track for the ship's sliding canopy: Captain Lincoln McHale.
"That fishing boat was just as much a threat as the Great Britannia itself would have been. If they'd gotten back to shore they would have told someone about us and then we'd be screwed." The woman, a former Britannian of noble birth whose name was Miranda Caldwell, leaned against her own ship. She'd fled Britannia as a young girl, afraid for her life after her parents were killed in a political assassination. Lincoln's parents had hidden her for several years and had eventually gotten her papers as a Confederate citizen. She'd joined the Black Dogs immediately after hearing that Lincoln, who had been her closest (and sometimes only) companion as a child, had enlisted. She was older than him by two years but still looked up to him as an older-brother figure as well as her commanding officer and closest friend.
"Wish the Gamma Bravo would show up," Link complained. "I could use a good fight."
As if answering his wishes alarms began to sound through the hangar bay. A woman's voice sounded over the PA system. "Cobra Wing scramble! Repeat, Cobra Wing scramble! We have a cargo ship with Britannian military markings approaching the coastline at full speed!"
"You know the drill!" Lincoln roared to the other pilots. "Get these tanks topside, NOW!"
Each of the pilots ran for their respective vehicles and climbed into the cockpits, double-checking their engine and storage compartments as they went. As their canopies began to close the five Thunderbolt scouts of Cobra Wing were lifted into the air on magnetic tracks. The tracks took them to the launch bay, a massive chamber set into the side of the carrier that could easily hold several large aircraft. The launch bay was near the top of the ship, making it harder for enemy Knightmares to board the ship as well as making it easier for their own transport pilots to land on the carrier.
The five Thunderbolts moved towards the door of the launch bay. The noise of their oversized turbine engines filled the chamber, causing the windows of the fight control center to rattle. Lincoln, in the lead ship, gave his instruments a once-over before slipping on his helmet. "This is Cobra Lead," he said over his helmet radio. "All systems green."
"Cobra Two, all green here," Miranda said over her own comm.
"Cobra Three, green and very mean!"
"Cobra Four, all green."
"Cobra Five, green across the board."
"We're one hundred feet from the surface, Cobra Wing," the woman in the control center said. "You're go for launch, Cobra!"
"Ten-four," Link said. "Alright people, let's get this over with. Launch!"
The five Thunderbolts all fired their engines, rocketing forward out of the launch bay. They hung in the air for a few seconds then plummeted towards the ocean. Each ship hit the water and partially submerged before bouncing back up and settling to their usual hovering height of three feet from the ground. Their stabilizer wings extended and narrowed, providing maximum control for high-speed maneuvers. They streaked off across the water towards their objective like a pack of wolves hunting a wounded elk.
0o0o0
Cornelia li Britannia stood on the deck of her stolen transport, watching the horizon. She was a fairly tall woman of great beauty, as expected of a Britannian princess. Her dark pink hair cascaded down her back in a sort of messy elegance, occasionally blowing in the wind that blew around the vessel. She wore her usual attire of a maroon suit with gold accents. Her sharp, intelligent violet eyes scanned the waves ahead, searching for any sign of her objective.
Her objective… The thought of what she was doing out here made even the once-unshakeable Witch of Britannia nervous. Ever since the final battle over Area 11 she had been nervous, but with what she was facing now it bordered on fear.
She'd been horrified to find that the battle had ended in the favor of her elder brother Schneizel el Britannia. Her younger brother Lelouche had been killed in the battle and any who had sided with him had been captured. Even worse, once Schneizel had won the battle he'd turned on his allies, the Black Knights, and imprisoned them as well as the various representatives of the United Federation of Nations. In doing so he'd taken care of anyone who might have stood against him, and with the threat of his vast arsenal of F.L.E.I.J.A. warheads that could be used to destroy any city or target at any point in the world at any given time, the world had quickly fallen under his control. The Holy Britannian Empire now quite literally controlled the world, and their Emperor would do whatever he felt he had to do to protect his position as the ruler of the world.
The few survivors that hadn't been captured had banded together under Princess Cornelia, but their resistance had been little more than basic survival and the occasional theft. Their hope was dwindling by the day, and Cornelia was unsure of how to proceed. At least, she was until she received a message from her fallen brother.
The message was delivered in the form of a video disk carried by one of her brother's subordinates, Lord Jeremiah Gottwald. Gottwald had left after delivering the message and had simply vanished, presumably joining another resistance group or else hiding out on his own. The video on the disk was of Lelouche, recorded during the final battle at the Damocles.
0o0o0
(Flashback)
With shaking hands the former Second Princess of Britannia slid the disk into a small player on the table beside her bunk and pressed play. The image of her brother Lelouche, a dark-haired teen with the same violet eyes as herself appeared on the screen. Lelouche was in the cockpit of his Knightmare and it was clear that things were not going well for him.
"Cornelia, listen to me," he said as he maneuvered his craft through the battle. "I know you have no reason to trust me after all that has transpired, but every word I am about to tell you is true. I swear it on the blood of my sister Nunnally and my mother Marianne the Flash. All of this was for Nunnally's sake. Every bit of it, even Euphie's death. Now that Schneizel is going to win this battle I can't finish my plan, but he can do it for me.
"The plan was to take the Damocles and take the world hostage. Then, when the hatred of every living person was focused solely on myself, I was going to have myself killed by a new Zero, thus leaving the world with nothing to hate and completely united, ending the need for all wars and creating a new, gentler world for her to live in. Unfortunately Schneizel won't have the decency to die like I would have. Once I have fallen his victory will be assured, but when he takes this world over he will take the place I would have had and do exactly what I would have done.
"Dear sister, you must be the one to kill him! I know your heart would never allow his ways, even against the Numbers you look down on. And I know you won't let Nunnally's nightmare continue any further. I believe in you, Cornelia. That is why I am going to tell you exactly how to win.
"Eight years ago, right after Britannia attacked Japan and established it as Area 11, you took part in a campaign against a certain rebel nation that had taken over New Zealand. You destroyed them and their technology, seemingly permanently. But in my work as Zero I have found traces of their nation. I believe them to be hiding on or near Antarctica. Did you ever notice how no campaign or expedition to that place is ever successful?
"Find the ghosts of the Confederacy, Cornelia! Find them and save Nunnally! I know I have no right to ask this of you but I am. Please, don't let the lives taken in this war be in vain!" At that moment the cockpit of the Knightmare filled with a fireball for an instant before the video ended in a screen that said "Signal Lost, End of Recording."
0o0o0
The Confederacy…
Cornelia's thoughts went back to that day all those years ago, the day she'd fought their Black Dog battalion. Her vast army had been halted by a mere forty hovercraft, only a handful of which had survived to flee. The end of that battle had always bugged her. It was clear that they had fled, but try as she might she could not find any trace of where they had fled to. One of their tanks had turned up in a residual skirmish after the establishment of Area 11, but the wrecked vehicle held no clues as to the whereabouts of the others.
The princess had, of course, been skeptical of her younger brother's message. After all he was Zero, the masked man who led the terrorist organization The Black Knights in a bloody campaign against Britannia, even going so far as to murder two of the royal family. But there were few options left to her resistance and they all knew it. So they'd gotten a cargo ship and as many Knightmare Frames together as they could then set off towards Antarctica, the Britannian army hot on their heels.
She looked down at the white gloves she had on over her hands. In one hand she held a photo of a dark-haired man of her own age. The man, her personal knight Gilbert Guilford, had been killed during their escape from Area 11. The loss had shaken Cornelia more than anything else in this war, even more than the loss of her sister Euphemia at the hands of Zero.
She put her other hand over the photo, closing her eyes momentarily. "Guilford," she whispered. "We will end this, you have my word."
The whine of jet engines caught her ear and she opened her eyes once more. She could see five small shapes approaching over the water, each one throwing up a rooster-tail of water behind it as it approached. 'So Lelouche was right,' she thought. 'Time to see if he was telling me the truth about the rest.' She turned to face the cabin of the cargo ship, where the rest of her resistance was gathered. "Raise the white flag!" she yelled.
Another woman, a dark-skinned Britannian woman with long silver hair, came from the cabin and began raising a white flag on the ships flagpole. Two more people came from the cabin as well: a short Chinese woman with her hair braided on either side of her head and tied in loops like earrings and a Japanese man with a red headband and glasses. The four of them gathered on the deck and stood side-by-side, their ship slowing and eventually coming to a halt in the icy water.
Two of the small hovercraft, which were not of any design Cornelia had seen during the battle in New Zealand, began to circle the cargo ship. The other three quite literally jumped into the air and came to a halt on the deck of the ship. One stayed hovering above the deck while the other two settled down on their running plates, their canopies sliding open and their pilots exiting the craft. Cornelia recognized the insignia on each of the craft. It was the same force she'd fought against in New Zealand, the Black Dog Battalion.
"Black Dogs," she said. "We come peacefully! I am Cor.."
"I know who you are, Witch of Britannia." One of the pilots pulled off his helmet and tossed it aside, revealing a mess of sandy hair and dazzling green eyes. The man held a bulky rifle, which was pointed directly at the former princess. "How the hell could I ever forget you?"
"Have we met?" Cornelia asked cautiously.
0o0o0
(Flashback)
Lincoln McHale watched as one of the nearby Grizzly main battle tanks of his unit went up in smoke. He'd lost count of how many of their comrades had been slain on this battlefield, but he knew one thing for damn sure: the Britannians were NOT getting past him.
He could see hundreds of their dark-colored Knightmare Frames, those ridiculous-looking robots that had taken the world by storm, in the flashes of gunfire and explosions. Each Knightmare consisted of a head, a torso built around a large boxy pod that contained the pilot, and arms and legs. The things moved quickly thanks to their Landspinners, wheeled arms that folded down from their ankles and acted in a similar manner to roller skates. Each one was equipped with a large rifle and a pair of rocket-propelled anchors called Slash Harkens that could be used for offense, defense, or mobility.
One of the Knightmares, however, was different. It had a different style of head on it, purple trim on its armor, and carried a large lance in addition to its rifle. This was the commanding officer, and she was a badass if ever there was one.
"It's the Princess!" someone yelled over the comms.
"I see her," another voice said, the voice of Link's father. "I'm on her! Ryan, back me up!"
"Got it, Pa!" This voice belonged to Link's brother.
"It's Lieutenant!"
Two of the hovertanks, a gun-heavy Grizzly and a rocket-launching Wolverine, went after the Princess's Knightmare. Link, piloting a jetfighter-like Razor equipped with twin 20mm machine guns and a rack of thirty Shadower image-guided missiles, followed as well. He would reach the battle too late, however.
His father's Grizzly went down first. Cornelia caught the hovertank with one of her Harkens and dragged it to herself before stabbing through its cockpit with her lance. The tank exploded on the end of her weapon and she continued on, easily dodging the slower Hornet heat-seeking missiles from Ryan's rocket tank. A barrage of gunfire was enough to cause one of the Wolverine's missiles to explode in its launch tube, resulting in a chain reaction that tore the smaller hovertank to ribbons.
Neither pilot had been able to eject.
Lincoln screamed in fury, firing everything he had at the Knightmare Frame before him. The princess barely had time to dodge the oncoming Razor, which quickly doubled back and came at her again. The two danced a deadly dance amid grenades and bullets from the Knightmare and bullets and missiles from the Razor. Another nimble Razor darted in to help but was hit by a stray rifle-launched grenade from Cornelia, causing the ship to crash into a rocky outcropping.
Link maneuvered his Razor in between his downed comrade and the enemy, glaring up at her through the shattered canopy of his ride. He was out of bullets and only had one missile left. What was worse was that Cornelia had gotten a number of good hits on his ride and managed to blow out one of his thrusters. He was still mobile, just very slow.
Cornelia had taken damage as well. Her Knightmare's cockpit had been ripped open by a hail of gunfire and a missile, revealing the pilot herself to the Black Dog. The two glared at each other, both knowing that a continued fight would result in their deaths.
"L-Link!" Miranda coughed over the radio from the cockpit of the crashed Razor.
"You win this one, Princess," Link said over his ship's PA. "But I swear to God, I'm going to find you someday and I'm going to kill you."
"Likewise, rebel scum! I will wait for you!" the Princess said, backing her Knightmare off and leaving the battlefield.
0o0o0
Link hardly dared believe his eyes. Here before him, surrendering to him without a fight, was the woman he hated more than anything in the world. Cornelia vi Britannia had just handed herself over. His heart raced in his chest. All it would take would be a squeeze of the trigger and his pulse rifle would send a concentrated high-power microwave beam through the princess's head. The beam would boil away flesh and bone, punching a hole all the way through her then dissipating before the wound could cauterize from the heat of the beam. He could avenge his father and brother and all of the Black Dogs that had fallen at her hand. All he had to do was squeeze…
"You're goddamn right we've met, Cornelia. We met in battle, where you killed my father and my brother." Lincoln's voice sparked some recognition in the princess's eyes. She had never known that the pilots she'd killed were related, but she now recognized the voice from that night eight years ago.
"It was you," she whispered. "You're the one in that smaller machine, the one who vowed to kill me."
"Yup," Link said. "Guess you got tired of waiting for me and decided to end it yourself. Works for me, bitch." His finger tightened down on the trigger.
"I won't deny you the chance to kill me," Cornelia said. "But I ask that you listen to what I have to say first."
"And why should I?" Link asked.
"I imagine you're a proud warrior, correct?" the former Princess said. "What if I offered you the chance to watch the former Second Princess of Britannia beg your commanders on her knees for assistance?"
Link and the other pilot, Miranda, looked at each other for a moment before bursting out in laughter. "And what," Link asked, "makes you think I give a damn about seeing that? If anything, that's the last thing I want. I don't want to see the bitch who took down my father and brother turn out to be weak as piss!"
"I'm afraid that is why I've come," Cornelia said. "I don't deny what has happened, but now is not the time to dwell on the past. The world has changed, Black Dog."
"Link," Miranda said quietly. "Maybe we should hear them out. At least take them to General Harris. We can dispose of them later if need be."
Lincoln glared at Cornelia, weighing her words and those of his comrade and trusted friend. "I guess the General could use a laugh," he said. "Alright, move your asses, Brits. Line up at the bow. Miranda, call for a dropship and an engineering unit to get this ship to the Angel. God help them if this is a trap."
"I'll be forward with you, Black Dog," Cornelia said. "We have a number of Knightmares and some usable parts in the hold. I thought they'd come in handy if your people decided to help us."
"Oh, they'll come in handy alright," Lincoln said. "My men could use some target practice." He turned and walked back to his ship, retrieving his helmet along the way.
0o0o0
The Midnight Angel was buzzing with activity when the Britannian ship arrived beneath it. Crew members gathered around to watch as the four prisoners were brought aboard. Three were taken to the brig, but Miranda and Lincoln escorted Princess Cornelia to one of the conference rooms. There she remained for some time with the two Black Dogs standing guard in the room and a dozen armed commandos outside the door.
Eventually the door of the conference room opened and five more people entered the room. Four of them were commandos, dressed in a heavier version of the armor the pilots wore and carrying heavy rifles that fired large armor-piercing bullets rather than pulse beams. The fifth man was in his late fifties with gray hair and a sun-worn face. He wore an officer's uniform that identified him as a two-star general. The man sat down across the table from Cornelia and signaled for Lincoln and Miranda to sit as well.
"Alright then," he said. "I'm General Roland Harris, commanding officer of the Black Dog Battalion and the captain of this carrier. What exactly do you have to say that was worth throwing your life away, Britannian? And remember, if you don't give me an answer I like I'll order Captain McHale here to show us what color your brain is."
Cornelia took a breath, knowing that the pilot would have no problem following that order if it was given. "As you well know, General, my name is Cornelia li Britannia. I am the former Second Princess of the Holy Britannian Empire and the commander you led your men against during the New Zealand conflict. I've come here not as a princess but as a rebel and an outlaw. It is my desire to destroy the current Emperor of Britannia."
The entire room seemed to freeze. No one moved or spoke or even seemed to breathe for a few seconds. Then the general began to chuckle. His chuckling grew until it became a full-on roar of laughter. After a while he wiped his eyes with an amused sigh. "Well now. That certainly wasn't what I expected to hear. Tell me, Britannian Princess. Why would you want to take down Emperor Schneizel? I mean, I know why I'd want to, but why do you want to?"
Cornelia didn't look too pleased at being laughed at, but she continued on anyway. "Why? Because along the road I've travelled I've learned three facts. The first is the difference between justice and hypocrisy. The second is the true value of my position in comparison to the value of human lives. And the third is that my brother Schneizel has learned neither of the first two things."
"And you expect us to believe that philosophical bullshit?" Lincoln spat.
"No," Cornelia said. "But I do expect you to think logically. Schneizel will come for you no matter what. If you join forces with me you can take the fight to him and stop him before he has a chance to wipe your rebel nation from existence. If you don't, the battle will be between yourselves and literally the entire rest of the world, and it will be on their terms rather than yours. Do you really expect to win that way?"
Harris was quiet in thought. Eventually he nodded. "What you say makes sense, Britannian. But I can't even consider this without a reason to believe that you won't double-cross us when the time is right."
The princess glanced up at the still-hostile pilot standing nearby. "Well, there's the ever-present gun to my head," she said. "If that's not enough for you, I could tell you my motivation for doing all this." At a curious look from Harris she smiled. "Redemption, my good General. I intend to make up for the things I've done in life before my death. I helped bring about this madness Schneizel has engulfed our world in. On top of that I gave the order for hundreds, no thousands of deaths. And worst of all, I let it all go to waste when I failed to protect those that mattered most to me. So this, my final act as a Britannian princess, will be my attempt at redemption. As my late brother Lelouche put it, I will destroy this rotten world and build a new one in its place."
"And who'll run that new world of yours?" Harris asked. "You? Other Britannian nobles?"
"Neither. I'll let that part sort itself out." Cornelia smiled. "I never was the type to take all of the glory for myself."
"I'll need to discuss this with my superiors," Harris said. "For now you'll remain here, under Captain McHale's guard. McHale, if you harm so much as a hair on her head without due reason, I'll shoot you myself." Without waiting for either of their responses the general left, leaving the princess and the guards behind.
0o0o0
No one would ever expect to find a city beneath the ice of Antarctica. But that was exactly what one would find if they looked deep enough. During the colonization period, Confederate engineers had dug massive elevators down into the ice and to the bedrock below. There they had hollowed out massive domes with interconnecting tunnels, held stable by metal bracers. The land provided them with rich mineral deposits and other materials with which to build an entirely new society. The only things that were in short supply in Antarctica were wood and vegetation. Most food was either hydroponically grown or gathered from the ocean. The aforementioned domes soon housed cities that became home to hundreds of thousands of civilians. Despite the harsh conditions their people had flourished, now numbering in the tens of millions.
Near the coastline, with underwater docking stations beneath the Ross Ice Shelf, was the largest of these cities. The city, was the capital of the Confederacy. As such it was the center of the nation's commerce, government, and the nervous center of its military. It was here that the governing council met, presided over by the current president and advised by the head generals of each branch of the military.
Inside the capitol building, one such council was being held. The heads of the Confederate Defense Forces were here, as was the commander of a special division called the Raven's Claw Elite Guard, a highly trained and well-equipped special forces unit under the direct command of the president. The only general missing from the council was General Roland Harris, the commanding officer of the Black Dogs. Harris was addressing the governing council and the other generals via telecom from his carrier, the Midnight Angel.
One wall of the council room was taken up by a large viewscreen which currently displayed Harris. The rest of the D-shaped room was filled by a semi-circle of desks in an amphitheater-like setup, occupied by the council and military heads and guarded by no less than twenty armed soldiers. None of the governing council seemed happy about what they were hearing from the Black Dog general.
"You're telling me you want us to help Cornelia li Britannia?" one of the governors said. "You're insane, General Harris. You should just kill her and be done with it."
"I don't want you to help her, I just want you to listen to her." Harris said defensively. "I will respect any decision made by the council as per my duty, but I urge you to at least listen to what she has to say. If she is truly offering us the chance to strike a mortal blow to Britannia…"
"So we strike. What then? How many soldiers must we lose to the F.L.E.I.J.A. weapons before we win? And how many of our settlements will be obliterated if this fight goes wrong?" This came from one of the generals. "President Collins, you cannot be seriously consider…"
George Collins, an elderly but strong-looking man with gray hair, cut the indignant general off in mid-sentence. "I'll hear what she has to say, Harris."
"Thank you, Mister President." General Harris stepped aside and a new face appeared on the screen. Princess Cornelia li Britannia examined the room displayed before her.
"Thank you very much for hearing me, gentlemen," she said with the grace of one born into royalty. "I'll get right to the point. I want your assistance. My brother, Emperor Schneizel, has spread his dominion over the entire world. I have been leading a resistance for the last three months but we have made no progress. However, I believe that with your assistance we can destroy Schneizel and end his tyranny over the world."
"And how do you plan to do that, Princess?" Collins asked.
"Our ultimate goal is the Damocles, the flying fortress that houses his supply of F.L.E.I.J.A. warheads. If we can eliminate the Damocles it'll take away his power over the world. Once his threat has been neutered he'll be an easy kill and we can focus on helping the world rebuild itself. And before you suggest that I am doing this for my own personal gain, I have renounced my claim to the throne. I will never be the Empress, nor will I ever be considered royalty again."
"And why do you think we would help in this matter?" Collins asked. "We're content as long as people leave us the hell alone. We're separate from your world, Britannian."
"But you're not. Once Schneizel discovers you, and with the world under in his grasp that won't be hard, it's inevitable that he will come after you. Do you really think you can protect your homeland from the entire world and their weapons?" Cornelia's words seemed to strike home with the president.
"I need a moment to think on this," he said. Cornelia nodded and the video feed was cut off. Collins sat there for a while, weighing his options. However, he was about to get some help in that department.
A middle-aged Australian man stepped up next to the president, leaning down to whisper into his ear. "Sir," the man said. "I think you should take her offer."
"And what makes you say that, Commander Maverick?"
Maverick, the head of the Raven's Claw Elite Guard, smiled. "She's putting us in a situation where we can't help but come out on top. We send the Black Dogs to do this. If they succeed it'll make people forget about the Braddock scandal and improve the world around us as well as the world's view of our nation. And if they fail.. well, it'll be an easy way to remove the stain on our great nation's honor."
"And what happens if they fail and Britannia comes after us in retaliation?" Collins asked.
"The CDF and the Ravens will be more than enough to protect our nation through anything," Maverick said. "We cannot lose."
Collins thought about it. On one hand, he and Harris had been friends at one point. They'd fought side-by-side during the New Zealand conflict. Indeed, Harris might have been president now instead of him if it wasn't for the Braddock scandal. But when the Black Dogs fell from grace they became an eyesore to the public, a presence no one wanted to acknowledge. They were a constant drain on the morale of the people and had to be dealt with. At the same time, however, Collins had faith in his old friend. He knew that if anyone could get this done, it was Harris and the Black Dogs. Therefore, the president had only one choice.
"Bring them back online," he said to one of the soldiers. The screen instantly displayed Cornelia and Harris. "General Harris, I am assigning you to this mission. You, the carrier Midnight Angel, and all of the Black Dogs are to follow Cornelia's plan." He looked to Cornelia. "And Princess… if this goes well you'll be welcome in my nation any time. But if it goes wrong, or you betray us, I'll make sure to lay waste to you and everything you hold dear. Is that understood?" Cornelia nodded. "Very well. Good luck and godspeed, Black Dogs." General Harris saluted then the screen went black.
"Forgive me, old friend," Collins whispered.
0o0o0
"We're going through with this?!" Miranda asked furiously, punching the side of her Thunderbolt. "What the fuck is the brass thinking?!"
"I'm sure they thought you were the best for the job," Cornelia said calmly. She was standing in the hangar bay, addressing Cobra Wing directly. A guard stood on either side of her and a collar containing a tracker and a small bomb had been fitted around her neck. None of the Black Dogs seemed very happy to hear what their leaders back home had ordered, but one out of the group looked angrier than the rest.
"No," Lincoln said, his voice shaking with barely-suppressed rage that made Miranda's anger look mild in comparison. "They're sending us because they don't think we'll win. They think we'll die in battle and they won't have to deal with us anymore…" He glared at the side of his own Thunderbolt. He knew who had to be behind this: Maverick, the relatively young commander of the Raven's Claw Elite Guard. The Ravens were notorious for hating the Black Dogs and doing whatever they could to make the BD's lives miserable. They had even ran a number of operations in which they'd lured out Black Dog soldiers on false orders then killed them, claiming that they'd gone rouge.
"But you won't fail," Cornelia said. "I know your comrades, McHale. You are the ones who bested me in battle after all. You can do this."
Lincoln stood up and began walking towards the princess. "Hate to break it to you sister, but we're not the same old Black Dogs. We used to be the best of the best. Now we're just a rag-tag militia at best. Our gear is either old outdated shit that barely runs or untested prototypes too dangerous for valuable soldiers to use and our crew is made up of old hands who should've retired but don't want to and criminals paying their debt to society through military service. Black Dog Duty is a thinly-disguised death sentence and everyone here knows it." He passed Cornelia, making his way towards the door but stopping a few feet past her. "We'll fight to the end and do everything we can to win because those are our orders, Princess. But make no mistake: once this is over with, you and I are going to settle up. I'm going to stay alive long enough to kill you, Cornelia." With those words he exited the hangar bay, leaving Cornelia with the rest of Cobra Wing.
"Go make sure he's alright," Miranda said to the other three members of the squad. They left, leaving Miranda alone in the bay with the princess and her guards. She approached Cornelia once the others had left and looked the Britannian royal in the eyes, mistrust in her sharp gaze. "So tell me, Witch of Britannia. What is your real intention here?"
"I beg your pardon?" Cornelia asked. "I believe I've already made my…"
"You fed us a line of shit that the brass miraculously believed," Miranda said. "But I'm not so foolish. I know how Britannians are. Trust me, I am one. You've got some ulterior motive, don't you?"
"A Britannian?" Cornelia asked. "What in God's name are you doing here of all places?"
"My parents were killed as a result of someone grabbing for power," Miranda said. "I managed to flee and stowed away on a ship that ended up in New Zealand, where I was taken in by the McHale family. I love Link like a brother, which is why I will not allow you to use him for your own selfish desires. Now, answer my question Britannian."
Cornelia nodded, understanding the woman's loyalty to her friend well. "Alright. I've told you that I failed those I loved most. What I didn't tell you was that two of my loved ones are still alive. One is Schneizel, whose actions have turned him into my mortal enemy. If I do not move against him my life will have no meaning. And the other is my sister, who is Schneizel's prisoner. I hope to rescue her in the process of dismantling this wicked empire Schneizel has created."
"So it was for your own ends," Miranda snarled, reaching for the pistol she carried on her hip.
"Indeed. My younger sister was blinded and crippled when her mother, Lady Marianne, was assassinated. After that she and our brother Lelouche were sent to Area 11 as a way to secure a peaceful relationship between Britannia and Area 11, known at that time as Japan. But then my father, Emperor Charles, declared war on Japan anyway. We thought Nunnally and Lelouche were dead, but she eventually turned up. Just as soon as she was returned to us our father sought to use her as his pawn again. And when he passed my brother Schneizel did the same. Now she is rotting in one of his prisons." A tear fell from Cornelia's eye, followed by another. "I failed Lelouche and the others. I won't fail Nunnally." The princess clenched her first, staring down at it. "I will put an end to her nightmare once and for all, just as Lelouche sought to do. That is why I requested your help, and that is why I must fight this battle, even if I must do it alone."
Miranda continued glaring at Cornelia for some time, as if expecting to find some trace of insincerity in the woman's manner. Finally she sighed and began walking towards the door as well. "Very well Princess," she said as she left. "But I'm warning you. If your redemption leads to Lincoln's death, I will find this girl you treasure so much. I will make you watch as I torture and slowly kill Nunnally. Then I will lock you in a cell for the rest of your life, unable to die and forced to rewatch her death over and over, night and day, until you finally perish from old age."
Cornelia turned as the young woman reached the door leading out of the bay. "Lieutenant, if I might ask something…"
Miranda halted. "What?"
"What happened to the Black Dogs?" Cornelia asked. "Why did such an amazing force of warriors that rivaled the knights of Britannia fall from grace?"
Miranda turned back and walked towards Cornelia again, her eyes sorrowful. "It's a long story," she said. "I guess it starts with a man named Braddock. He was some researcher before the New Zealand campaign. Apparently he was doing all kinds of horrible experiments on a squad of Black Dogs. Then, when things got hairy, he started killing the Black Dogs and covering up the project. A few Black Dogs escaped and he led an entire campaign to destroy them, saying they were rebels. Eventually the project was exposed and Braddock was executed as a criminal. Because of that project the Black Dogs have been disgraced and outcast. We're the unwanted because of that man." Miranda sighed, a sad look in her eyes. "All that we've done and everything we've sacrificed was forgotten in a heartbeat when that project we had nothing to do with came to light."
Cornelia found this information quite… disheartening. She'd seen the Black Dogs as an unstoppable force, one that would even topple Britannia if they ever turned their gunsights towards the empire. To see her old foes in this state made her sick. "Then we must win this war at all costs," she said firmly. "Maybe then your people will be reminded of just who the Black Dogs are and what they stand for."
Miranda nodded and made her way towards the door again. "God willing," she muttered."
(A/N: Tadaaa! Chapter one is done! I know it's not much but I'm hopeful that this one will turn out interesting enough for someone to read and enjoy. And if Cornelia seems a bit out-of-character, it's because she's not the same Cornelia. She's had eight months since Schneizel tried to kill her to reflect on her actions and realize what she's done with her life. She's still a proud, badass princess but she's more human now, as was shown in one of the final episodes when Guilford was at her bedside after she'd been shot. At the moment she's about halfway between the original Cornelia from R1 of C.G. and the Cornelia in that hospital bed.
Miranda… ah, Miranda. I struggled with this character. I wanted her to be somewhat along the lines of Leila Malkal from Akito the Exiled in the sense that she was a former Britannian noble, but more of a comrade and fellow soldier than Leila was in the first two episodes of AtE. Miranda is tough and skilled, just like Link is without sacrificing gentler, more womanly aspects such as her great love for Link and her protectiveness over him. I also imagined her as being very beautiful, not in the overextravagant way the Britannian women were pictured in C.G. but rather a rough sort of beauty like Kallen or Chiba. She's still a woman and an attractive one at that, but she's also a soldier in a division that's seen the most hellish combat imaginable and come out on top almost every time.
Lincoln is pretty much my main dude. I used to roleplay online a lot and he was one of my characters. When I started writing this fanfic I knew the lead role had to be his. And yes, those two cute little kids in the beginning are his siblings. I'll have a little bit more of them later on down the line but they're not much more than a motivational tool for Link at this point. They're kinda like Nunnally was in the beginning of C.G… although that right there might be a bit of foreshadowing!
Lastly, I'd like to bring up a few names here. Harris. Collins. Maverick. Braddock. These are names from the BZ universe that I have borrowed. In the BZ universe, Harris was the commander of the Black Dog forces on Ganymede when the Chinese forces attacked. Collins was the general leading the American forces during that same timeframe in their campaign against Russia's CCA (Cosmo-Colonist Army). Maverick is from the Fleshstorm II mod, as the arrogant but skilled leader of the RCEG. I always hated the prick. And Braddock, speaking of pricks, was a scientist during BZ1 who experimented on Black Dogs, fusing them into their ships in an effort to create the ultimate fighting machine. When the project went way, way wrong he abandoned the BD's and covered it all up. Decades later, in BZ2, the now-General Braddock would lead the ISDF in a campaign against 'aliens' who were really the remnants of the Black Dogs he'd betrayed. I re-tooled them to fit into this fanfic. For example, in this fic Collins led the bulk of the Confederate forces during the New Zealand campaign while then-Commander Harris led the Black Dogs.
So yeah. Here's chapter one of my latest abomination. Let me know what you think and I might just post more of it! And I've decided to use Battlezone mission names for the names of the chapters in this. Just for shiggles.)