Disclaimer: I do not own Code Geass or any of its characters. Code Geass is the property of Sunrise and Bandai Entertainment.

This chapter is dedicated to all the mothers out there. They may scheme and plot behind their childrens' backs but in the end they really do know what's best. Happy Mothers Day!

The Black Queen

They had been at it for well over two hours now and there was barely a dent in the manila tower. Lelouch wrinkled his nose at the candidate they were looking at, "He's too old. Twenty-nine and still only a captain."

"Jeremiah is only a year younger. And he's also a captain." Nunnally pointed out.

"Jeremiah was also knighted when he was twenty-two. He's been doing the job for six years now and don't forget he was promoted to major last month. I thought you sent him a gift for that?" He looked back at the file, "Besides, this man's never been recommended for even a Royal Guard position. That should say something." The prince closed the folder and threw it onto the slowly growing "No" pile on the table. They had designated the spot next to it the "Maybe" pile. It had only one file in it. The next spot over was the "Interview" pile. That one was empty.

Nunnally sighed and reached for the next candidate's files, "Soresi, Marika. Twenty-two years old. OF-2. Graduated top one percent of her class from VMI and then attended IMA West Point where she was advanced into the Knightmare Training Program. She scored a ninety-two percent on the simulator, a ninety-one in field tests and has seen action in Area Eleven and Area Eighteen with the 8th Imperial Hussars. She's also been cited for 'coolness under fire' and 'tactical creativity.'"

"Any political connections?"

"Her father is the Baron of Athens in Georgia."

"Throw her into the 'Maybes.'" Lelouch opened up the next file and chuckled.

"What is it?" Nunnally leaned over and began to read with interest, "Soresi, Kewell. Twenty-seven years old. OF-4. Also graduated top one percent of his class from VMI and then attended IMA West Point where he was advanced into the Knightmare Training Program. He scored a ninety-one percent on the simulator and ninety percent in field tests. Thereafter he attended advanced courses at the Imperial War College before entering service with the King's Royal Lancers. Wounded in combat during the conquest of Area Eleven and again while on tour in Area Eighteen," She glanced at her brother, "He seems to have a penchant for getting hurt and in Area Eleven during the invasion no less. I can understand getting hurt in Area Eighteen, after all the rebels there had European KMFs but the Elevens couldn't even hit a Glasgow let alone dent one. He can't be much of a pilot, despite those scores."

The prince's eyes scanned the rest of the file, "It says here he used his machine to cover a large explosive the JDF managed to hide at the side of the road. His squad only spotted it when it was about to go off. Poor fellow took the blast point-blank and was laid up in the hospital for nearly a year. But he managed to save three other pilots and their machines. At the very least he's brave."

Nunnally raised an eyebrow, "And stupid."

Her brother smiled but kept reading, "Well the file states his injury in Area Eighteen came from fighting off a rebel ambush. It seems that while leading a patrol, then-First Lieutenant Soresi and five other pilots were pinned down by several anti-KMF teams supported by a squadron of Mk-1 Panzer Hummels. Four of the other pilots were taken out in the initial salvo but Soresi and the remaining pilot managed to hold off the Panzers until help could arrive. Seems he's not as bad a pilot as you would believe then."

Nunnally turned her head away and sniffed, "Put him in the 'Interview' pile then. We'll find out soon enough."

Lelouch laughed, "I suppose we will."

Marianne smiled at her husband and her brother-in-law, "Lelouch has decided he wants to enter the army. I've come to talk to you about giving our son a commission."

The brothers looked at each other. Violet eyes met violet eyes and an exchange of thoughts and information was passed silently in the way that only twins can. Finally the archduke nodded and walked out of the office. The emperor leaned back into chair, and clasped his hands in front of him. He cast his gaze down at the papers on his desk and ignored his wife as if the room was empty.

For the first time, Marianne noticed that her husband was beginning to show his age. Though his body looked just as strong as the day he first sat on the throne, his eyes were tired and his shoulders sagged. The tolls of running an empire as large as Britannia were finally showing. She knew he would never let his guard down like this anywhere else or with anyone else. Only his brother, favorite wife and most trusted Knight would ever be allowed to watch as the old legend's powers began their sure but steady decline.

Charles finally looked up at her. His eyes, unguarded and tired moments ago, were suddenly lit with fire. Without turning, Marianne dismissed her knight, "Jeremiah, please leave us."

Her faithful servant bowed and left leaving husband and wife staring at each other. To her it seemed like an eternity before he spoke, "It had always been one of my sincerest wishes that I would have a son who would be able to carry on my military legacy. Schneizel has the potential and the ability but he chose politics. His talents wasted on the bickering and blustering of grown men acting like children." He snorted with derision, "Odysseus is a mediocrity at best. And I try not to speak ill of the dead, but what was Clovis but a fop? Had he become emperor he would have driven the treasury to bankruptcy with just his Coronation Ball alone. Then there are the others: Andrew, Geoffrey, Albert, William, Arthur, Edward and of course Ricardo. None of them are worthy or capable of carrying on my legacy. Some of them entered the military and some will eventually choose to enter the military, no doubt in an effort to please me, but none of them have the gift for it."

Marianne did not dare speak. She knew that she was the most cherished of the emperor's wives and was privy to many of his secrets and plans but Charles rarely confided in her with the blunt honesty that he was putting on display now. That role in the emperor's life had always been filled by his brother.

"There are my daughters of course. Guinevere could never be bothered by it. Too busy with balls and dinner parties and the latest gossip. Cornelia! Now Cornelia has that natural knack for warfare that nearly all of my sons seemed to have missed out on but she's lost all her ambition since she was made a Colonel. Besotted with that knight of hers, Marquess Guilford's oldest son. Now she serves out of duty and because it's the only thing she knows. Damn good at it though. Euphemia and the others are too soft. Nothing like Cornelia. Not even Carine, bloodthirsty as she is."

The door opened and Victor re-entered the room carrying a single file. He opened it and handed the papers inside to his brother. Charles took a moment to read them before looking back at his consort, "No, Marianne. None of those children will be able to succeed me as a soldier. For years now, my hopes have been pinned on our children. I had almost given up, the boy being as lazy as he is and his sister being spoiled rotten by the two of you." He began to sign the papers, ten signatures in all, before putting them back in the folder and extending it to Marianne.

The empress flipped through them and looked up astonished, "These are enlistment papers."

Her husband rose out of his seat and walked behind it to look outside the window, "And the enrollment forms for West Point. He'll start with the same advantages as any of the other princes. I don't intend to go easy on the boy, but I won't force him to start as a private either. He will be commissioned as a Second Lieutenant should he graduate. After that he'll have to work his way up himself. I know he intends to play the game. Why else would he choose the military? What better to way to protect his life than to make himself indispensable to the me by becoming one of my generals?"

Charles turned to face his wife, "But, Marianne, not all my generals are indispensable. Should Lelouch succeed as you hope, he will find his ascent eased considerably. However, if he should fail then you know that his fall will be sudden and brutal. I would not be able to help him. Are you willing to let him do this?"

There it was, the emperor's admission that he would do nothing to help or harm Lelouch beyond what he had already done. And the chance to withdraw on her son's behalf. She knew it was not her choice to make, "Lelouch will decide by himself. Princes do as they are wont to do."

Charles gave a rare smile, lasting just a second. "Good," he rumbled, "Now leave me. There is still work to be done."

Marianne curtsied. Then she left.

She and Jeremiah were nearly at the door leading back to the palace's main halls when she heard Victor calling her name. She stopped and waited until he caught up to them, "I would like to speak with you, about Lelouch."

"Of course Your Grace."

"In my office if you don't mind," He pointed down to the other end of the hallway, "This way please."

Pendragon's defenders had surrendered the city without a shot after the body of Henry mi Britannia was shown in a live broadcast from zi Britannia headquarters. To some the act was practically sacrilege. Displaying the body of a Britannian emperor washed with his own blood and filth and riddled with bullets, not suitable for a commoner's burial let alone an emperor's, was the greatest disrespect to the deceased and his kin. It was the sort of act that could have sparked war anew if the mi Britannia family and their allies had not been battered and brutalized into submission. Instead it served as a message and a lesson from Victor and Charles zi Britannia to the other families: "This man was never the Holy Britannian Emperor. He was a pretender who usurped the rightful succession and he has paid for this transgression with his life. Let all those who would play the game of power learn from his example. For the strong survive and the weak are eaten."

Marianne felt there was no better punishment for the man and his friends who had started such a bloody war. But in order for the broadcast to be made, the body would have had to be removed from the city. It sounded simple enough. In hindsight she decided it was one of the most nerve-wracking things she had ever done as a knight. The mission parameters had stated that should either one of both of them succeed then they would rendezvous with an extraction team in the city's financial district which had been reported as deserted.

First they collected the body, a task they completed unopposed as Bismarck had killed or seriously maimed nearly all the guards on his way in with the handful left running away in fear. Then they walked, at a leisurely pace, to the car garage where a large collection of Italian sports cars, German luxury sedans and Britannian luxury SUVs awaited them. Marianne had argued for taking one of the Ferraris or perhaps even a Lamborghini. Bismarck won in the end though, with the irrefutable logic that a sports car would be too conspicuous in a nearly empty city on high alert. He chose a green Land Rover and gave Marianne the keys, "If we get stopped, the police and guards will let you go if you say you're evacuating the pretender to a safer location. You weren't seen on your way in correct?"

"I'm not you. I got in without touching a single hair on the guards," She laughed before quickly amending, "Finn doesn't count."

"Then they'll have no reason to hold you. Especially if they see his silhouette in the back. I'll prop his body up on the seats and hide on the floor. Don't roll down the back windows. Don't even roll down the front windows fully. All you have to do is give them a glimpse of him and they'll be satisfied."

It was a flawless plan. Nothing could go wrong, they were both sure of it. Marianne had charmed the guards at the checkpoint and was rolling up the windows when a black Cadillac town car pulled up behind them. Its driver had gotten out, gesturing wildly at the Land Rover and yelling something at the guards. They had been able to make out a few sentences, "That's not one of the emperor's knights!" and "Knight of One is dead!"

She had forgotten about Marshall's car and driver. Marianne turned to give the guard the "Who would you rather believe" routine when from the corner of her eye in the rear view mirror she saw that Henry's head had started lolling forward leading the rest of his body to fall headlong into the back of her seat.

The guard had seen too. "Stop them!" He roared.

Bismarck popped up from the backseat and shot the man, yelling in her ear "Step on it!"

She stamped on the accelerator, the Land Rover smashed two police cars and scraped a third as it made a mad dash for freedom. They exited St. Darwin Street not a moment too late as a pair of police cruisers had arrived on the scene and began to follow them.

With the cruisers following behind, the city's organized block layout started to work against them. Roadblocks and the appearance of other police cars herded them back towards the center of the city. "The streets in the Old Town District aren't planned out and are messier. We can lose them there." Bismarck said.

"How are we supposed to get there? It's on the other side of the city." She turned again as two more cruisers appeared to block off her path.

"Drive straight here and get on the Cross-City Expressway."

An armed roadblock appeared ahead of them flanked by two tanks. "Just keep going," he said, "They won't open fire. They think we're kidnapping the pretender. That's why we haven't been shot at the entire time."

Marianne complied, pressing the pedal to the floor. Men dove to the sides as the Land Rover burst through the barricades and drove onto the expressway. A fleet of police cars, joined by a helicopter, pursued them down the highway. Because the expressway only had exits for the major city districts they were no encounters with roadblocks until the exit ramp that lead into the Old Town. At Bismarck's urging, Marianne drove through these as well to take them into the winding streets of the Old Town.

Old Town had been built by Spanish colonists nearly three centuries before Pendragon had become the capitol. The land was not level like the rest of the city and the roads had been laid out haphazardly. The result was numerous alleys and side streets could lead anywhere or nowhere.

The Land Rover turned into a narrow alley. The closest cars overshot the turn while those farther behind were able to follow. Using the district's confusing layout, Marianne led their hunters on a wild chase that caused all of the police cars to eventually lose sight of their quarry. Now only the helicopter remained, following them no matter where they went. She knew that with the helicopter providing directions it would only be a matter of time before the cruisers caught up again. Once again it was Bismarck who provided the solution, "Pull into that parking garage," he pointed at a three-story deck ahead of them, "We'll abandon the car and make our way through the city on foot."

While the going would be slow, they would be able to hide more easily and kill any guards that came across them should the need arise. She turned in and parked. The two knights got out and Bismarck carried the dead emperor across his back. They began the search for an exit. It would only be minutes before they were surrounded.

The helicopter pilot could not believe what the kidnappers had done. He quickly radioed in his position, calling in all vehicles. In the meantime, he would circle the building to ensure the rebels did not escape. Within minutes of his transmission, the block was surrounded by more than fifty police and military vehicles.

With the Knight of One dead and the living Rounds unaccounted for, Pendragon's Chief of Police Sir Jesse Curry took charge, "I want snipers on all the surrounding rooftops. They have the order to shoot on sight if presented with a shot that will not harm the emperor. Set up roadblocks on every street exit and post guards at every building exit on the block. Make sure every alley, back street, side street and foot path is covered. Then assemble two – no, three assault squads and have two ready to enter from the ground floor and one from the top floor," He turned towards a young officer, "Has anyone attempted to make contact with the kidnappers?"

"Yes sir, Detective Middleton has been on the megaphone."

"And?"

"No response sir."

Minutes later another officer ran up, "Assault teams are almost assembled sir. They should be ready to go in five minutes"

"Is everything else I asked for set up?"

"Almost sir, the last snipers are getting into position. The ones already in place report no visual of the kidnappers."

"If we don't hear anything from these rebels in five minutes, tell the assault teams to enter. They are to do whatever is necessary to retrieve the emperor. I don't care about the kidnappers."

The messenger ran off to relay the orders. Five minutes later, no contact had been made and the assault teams were given the signal to enter. Alpha and Bravo teams entered through the car entrance while Charlie team rappelled off a nearby building and crossed over onto the top deck. As the teams raced to find the green Land Rover, they checked every other car and behind the stairwells for any signs.

Inside a mobile HQ vehicle where Curry sat, a radio buzzed to life. "This is Bravo leader. We have located the kidnappers' vehicle but there are no signs of the kidnappers or the emperor. I repeat: there are no signs of the kidnappers or the emperor."

Alpha and Charlie soon radioed in to report the same. "Impossible!" the police chief insisted, "Bring in dogs. I want every inch of this block triple checked!" But four hours and three full searches later the result was still the same. Even as the police chief insisted upon searches through the entirety of the Old Town, he knew it was a fruitless endeavor. Somehow the kidnappers had escaped.

Four Hours Earlier…

With a grunt, Bismarck moved the manhole cover back to its original place. He dropped down into the grime where Marianne was carrying the pretender's corpse. She handed the body back to him and pointed down one end of the tunnel they were standing in, "The financial district is in the north. If we keep going in this direction, we should eventually reach it."

Using the sewage systems had been Marianne's idea. Finding only one door on the ground floor, they had exited through it and emerged into an alleyway shared with an apartment building. Sirens could already be heard in the distance and seeing no other alternative, Marianne had suggested the sewers after noticing the manhole cover only a few feet away from the door. She kept watch while Bismarck attempted to move the heavy disk. There had been several close calls as the helicopter had flown overhead but eventually the cover budged and Marianne climbed down. Bismarck, carrying the body, followed her just in time as the screech of tires and shouts of orders being given could be heard nearby.

They were making good progress though and the stench was almost bearable. The sewers had seen little use since residents had begun to evacuate as news of the approaching army had spread.

Every so often they would come across another manhole and Bismarck would climb up the to move it, checking that no one was around before raising his head to discern where they were and get a breath of fresh air. Three hours after they had first entered the sewers, he poked his head out and saw a park and tall office buildings indicative of the financial district. He looked down at his colleague, "We're here."

He climbed down to take the body from her and climbed back up and out of the hole. Marianne followed him. She looked around, getting her bearings before nodding towards the park, "I think the rendezvous point is supposed to be inside this park."

They walked into the park and it was not long before they came across a news chopper sitting in the middle of a playing field. The knights looked at each other, shrugged and began to approach. The pilot was engrossed in a novel and did not notice them until Marianne spoke, "You our ride?"

The man gave a start and dropped his book. Clearly not a military man she thought. He picked up his book and looked up, "Sure am! I'm guessing you must be Lady Lamperouge and your companion is Lord Waldstein?"

Marianne nodded in the affirmative.

"Hop in and strap down then. But I was told there would only be two of you." He glanced at the body on Bismarck's back.

"Souvenir." The big knight dryly replied. He climbed into the helicopter and sat down, unceremoniously dumping the corpse on the floor.

Marianne followed him and closed the door as the chopper blades began to warm up. "Out of curiosity, why are you our extraction?" she asked the pilot.

"Prince Victor figured that a news helicopter wouldn't attract much attention so he hired us. People are hungry for any scrap of news about the war so we've been flying over the city and the battlefields the past year without any trouble. It's a pretty exciting time to be in journalism. I'm sure it doesn't beat the thrill of being a knight though right?"

She smiled then frowned as she caught a whiff of the sewer and corpse smell now permeating the cabin, "You can't even imagine."

Two hours later they touched down in a field surrounded by tents and makeshift buildings east of Pendragon. Victor zi Britannia stood with a cadre of guards on the edge of the area marked as the helipad. He approached as the chopper's blades began to wind down. Marianne exited the aircraft first and kneeled down on one knee. Bismarck followed her lead and placed the body before the prince.

"I see that you've succeeded," Victor chuckled, "In a spectacular fashion I might add. I asked for a token or heirloom to prove that he was dead and here you've brought me the corpse!"

He turned to motion two guards over and gave them orders, "Carry this into the press tent and then go tell my brother he can stand down. There won't be any resistance left after they see this."

The prince faced the knights again, "Stand! Stand! You're the heroes of the hour. I'll need you to be present at the broadcast. Britannia needs to see the faces of the duo that ended this war on the enemy's doorstep." He wrinkled his nose as he caught the stench of sewage waste wafting from the pair, "You might consider showering first though. Meet in the press tent in half an hour."

Forty-five minutes later Marianne, Bismarck and Victor stood before an array of cameras and microphones, Henry's body laid before them on a table.

Tall and broad, the prince cut a dashing figure in his military uniform as he began to speak, "For eleven bloody months the armies of the usurper Henry mi Britannia have resisted the will of the Britannian people. For eleven bloody months this pretender has fought an unjust war in an attempt to keep a throne he stole through cowardice and greed. But now those eleven months are at end. Yesterday evening, two former Knights of the Round who were loyal to the true emperor James ne Britannia entered the Imperial Palace and took their vengeance upon the false emperor for the execution of their lord."

He gestured to Bismarck and then to Marianne, "Standing by me are those two Rounds: the Knight of Five Lord Bismarck Waldstein and the Knight of Six Lady Marianne Lamperouge. To them I say: Thank you. Thank you for doing what armies could not. Thank you for punishing the pretender for his crimes." To emphasize his words, he turned and embraced them.

Then he pointed at the body in front of him, "This is body of the usurper Henry mi Britannia. This is the proof that on this day justice has won. To those who would still call themselves his friends or allies I say this: Lay down your arms, surrender unconditionally to the armies of the true emperor and you will be forgiven for your offenses." Victor held up his hand and formed a fist, "Resist and we will crush you. There will be a two hour cease-fire for our offer to be considered. If there is no reply in that time, we will recommence hostilities and will not stop until victory is won on our terms."

After the last defenders capitulated, Marianne had the opportunity of watching the speech on TV in her private quarters. All the news networks were carrying the story of Pendragon's surrender. The stations that supported the zi Britannias were already calling Bismarck and her heroes. Those that had supported Henry just ran the speech and the news without commentary. She watched the speech over and over, changing the channel to one that was currently showing the speech. At first she paid attention to the body or Bismarck and herself. But her eyes were eventually drawn to the prince.

He was certainly handsome. While Prince Charles was attractive in rough and rugged sort of way, Victor was fair and radiant. Shoulder-length gold hair framed a face with high cheekbones and an aquiline nose. But beauty alone did not draw her to men. The prince was a consummate orator. His striking features would draw all eyes to him but the expressiveness of his lilac eyes and the emotion that ran through his face ensured his audiences remained entranced.

At the beginning of his speech he looked sorrowful, mourning for the lives that had been lost to the war. That had morphed to gratitude and relief as he announced the usurper was dead and thanked the knights. His eyes and face showed mercy as he offered forgiveness and then they showed an unbendable will when he warned that all enemies would be crushed. Marianne knew that if she had not already pledged her to life to the zi Britannia cause, watching the speech would have made her a convert.

It was no surprise to anyone in camp who had seen the speech when the unconditional surrender of Pendragon arrived before the offer expired.

Though he held no formal posts within the government, Victor functioned as a minister without portfolio and served as his brother's closest and most trusted advisor. Thus he spent most of his working hours inside the emperor's office leaving his own rarely used and impersonal.

An empty desk faced the door to allow the office's occupant direct view of anyone entering. A high back chair was placed behind the desk while two lounge chairs were placed in front. A single filing cabinet occupied the right corner of the room and a single painting of some famous Napoleonic era battle hung opposite.

The archduke sat behind his desk and gestured for Marianne to join him. Jeremiah took his normal place standing behind his mistress.

"Can I offer you tea?" Victor asked.

"No, thank you."

He gave a small laugh, "Straight to business then hm? Very well. I thought you ought to know that you aren't the only consort to approach my brother about an army commission for her son."

He pulled out a sheaf of papers from a drawer and handed them to his guest, "Gabrielle la Britannia came by yesterday to demand a colonelcy for young Ricardo. You can imagine her disappointment when all she walked out with were the enrollment papers for West Point."

Marianne scanned over the papers which confirmed that Ricardo la Britannia would be entering West Point in the fall. She scoffed, "Did you want me to warn Lelouch about him? Ricardo is smart but Lelouch is smarter. He'll be a pest at worst." She got up to leave.

"Well there is this one last thing." Victor pulled out a smaller piece of paper and offered it to her.

Marianne sat down again and read it over. It was a bank statement. A transfer of one-hundred million pounds had been made from an account in the Imperial Bank of Pendragon to a private bank account in Dubai. Both accounts were codenamed but the transfer was dated one week before Clovis had been assassinated.

"We dug that up about three months ago," he revealed, "Intelligence has since discovered that the receiving account belongs to Erinys International, a private military contractor headquartered in Dubai. As for the sending account, we have nothing except that the transfer originated from the central bank here in Pendragon."

She looked up at him. Victor had not changed much since thirty years ago although his hair was finally beginning to show signs of gray. His eyes and face, normally windows to his thoughts and emotions, were now blank. She could get no read on what he was thinking.

"Thank you for your help." Marianne got up and walked towards the door. The archduke spoke as Jeremiah opened the door for her. She stopped to hear his words, "It's interesting don't you think?"

She took his bait, "What is? That someone was hired to kill Clovis?"

"No. That Gabrielle would let her remaining son join the military so soon after her other son was killed. You would think she'd hold onto Ricardo as long as she could."

She turned around to ask what he meant but Victor already had his eyes glued to another piece of paper and ignored her. Their conversation was over.

A big thank you to everyone who reviewed. I'm glad you all enjoyed the first chapter and I hope I can keep delivering interesting chapters worthy of Allora Gale's writing and original idea.

I'm sorry for the long flashback. There will be one last semi-long flashback about Charles's rise to the crown in the next chapter and then we'll proceed to more interesting matters.

The original chase scene actually included more explosions. In fact, it featured so many explosions it could have been lifted out of a script of a Michael Bay movie. That didn't sit well with me so it was changed.

Apologies for any spelling or grammatical errors.

Reviews are always welcome. Even hate mail.