Chapter 4
Code Geass is the intellectual property of Sunrise Studios. No financial profit is made from this story.
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Kallen clicked on the hyperlink, sipping iced coffee from the packet. A damp towel hung around her head, her uniform strewn over the footlocker of her bunk. She'd just finished a training run on her Guren 'Red Queen', a model customised to her personal specifications.
It was this years model, the Guren Tokijin 2023 Series, customised to her exact specifications. Armoured up and equipped with a sophisticated processor, it possessed the same defensive static electromagnetic shields as the Shinkiro Command model, along with a radar-based active defence point laser that defended against missile attacks.
While many of them were made by Kyoto Automotives, most models of the Black Knights Knightmare Frames came from the Indian Commonwealth, production centre of the world. India, Iran, China and Japan had formed a close economic, cultural and military relationship between themselves, with India the major manufacturing and research centre worldwide, China a close second.
Thrice a week she trained and instructed at the Kyoto Military Academy, putting the latest batches of officer cadets and NCO (non-commissioned officer) candidates through their paces, testing them in their Knightmare Frame piloting ability, leadership skills and command competency. It was also a way to hone her own edge outside of combat. She'd long since been promoted to the rank of major in the military reserves, becoming the executive commanding officer of an entire battalion.
Having just finished training a class, she'd ended her day, retreating to the safety of her bunk in a far corner of the academy, overlooking the Pacific Coast.
She sighed as she read the news. Japan in many ways had always been a racist nation, though nowhere near as bad as the Jewish Purges of Gemany more than a century ago that had led to the creation of the Republic of Israel and the Jewish enclaves in the Taiwanese Republic and Riau Federation.
Recently terrorist activity had spiked in several areas as incidences of racially motivated hate crimes increased. Japan by and large was an insular nation and being placed under occupation and being reduced to a minority in their own homeland hadn't improved matters.
During the time of Britannia's occupation, many Indians and Iranians had migrated to Japan in order to escape the crushing poverty and famine that had gripped their homelands at the time, as had hundreds of thousands of native Filipinos from the Philippines Protectorate of Britannia.
Over the past 5 years as the economy had boomed and the population grew, beneath the seeming congeniality and welcoming attitudes of the Japanese which was genuine enough, a minority had risen, purists seeking to 'cleanse honourable Nippon of the taint of foreigners'. Britannia's people weren't the only ones with racial supremacists in their midst. Every country had their fair share.
It was an issue that resonated with Kallen on many levels, for the simple fact that she herself was only half-Japanese. For all her efforts, there were still those among the more traditionally minded of old Japan who despised her for what she represented. An ideal. A hope for peaceful coexistence. To them, all she represented was simple: a taint upon the heritage of all Japanese.
She read the intelligence report, lists of the most active and dangerous groups filling the paper. Over the past year terrorist incidents against the minorities had increased, many of the Japanese supremacy factions issuing vitriolic declarations of hatred against Koreans, Indians and other non-Japanese, more so the Britannians than anyone else.
Similarly several Britannian supremacist groups had risen, seeking to push their own agenda. Ohgi had managed to rebuild the physical infrastructure of the country but it would be at least a decade before the psyche of the nation would heal.
But what was more disturbing was how well armed many of them were. Rumours spoke of high level support among the Kyoto Coalition, scions of the plutocrat and oligarch clans of old Japan seeking to return to the old ways, before the invasion by Britannia.
She flipped open her handphone and looked at the two photos plastered there. Her mother and Navin. She hadn't realised until recently how they often attracted stares on the street when they went out together. Two of a kind in their own ways, both stood out in the crowd by their difference. Kallen for her obvious heritage and Navin by his closeness to her.
She opened her email and scanned it, looking through the minutes of the meeting. Her battalion, the 6th Itsukushima Tengu, were assigned to be on guard duty the day Lieutenant General Fhajad Sorentho "Black Tiger" Nair Sahar arrived in Japan for the annual Eurasia-Pacific Summit.
She'd heard much of the famous commander, the Supreme Commander of the Indian Ocean Black Knights Command as well as CO (Commanding Officer) of the Colombo Division. In his early 30's, he'd been known as a tactically brilliant officer, masterful strategist, superb negotiator and exceptional pilot.
He possessed the distinction of being the only man known to have caused the former Knight of One, Bismarck Waldstein, to retreat from battle, as well as being the man credited with outwitting Imperial General Cornelia li Britannia and Prime Minister Schneizel el Britannia on several occasions.
A man of intense charisma, astounding cunning and prodigious intelligence, he was slated to be the next Chief of Staff of the Black Knights after Kyoshiro Tohdoh. His mere presence on the battlefield had caused several of Britannia's and China's generals to reassess their strategies, often devoting entire brigades to his capture or destruction.
From what little information Kallen knew, his father had been the legendary Benjamin "Black Tiger" Nair, another legend of the Indian Resistance who'd trained Kyoshiro Tohdoh in the doctrine that had aided him in pulling off the Miracle of Itsukushima.
Closing the computer, she called her mother as she looked at the time. She groaned as she realised she was going to be late getting back home. It wasn't so much the journey back as much as the traffic.
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"How long have you been dating that boy Kallen?" Kotomi asked gently as she warmed up the food. Her daughter sat at the table, hands crossed and her head resting on them as she looked mournfully up at her mother.
"Oka-san, do we really need to go through this? We've only been going out a month. On top of that we're both so busy with work and I've got this summit coming up. The Black Knights activated my battalion to serve as the honour guard and security overseers. We've only been going out..."
Kallen tried to do some mental arithmetic before her mum answered for her.
"A month. He actually dropped by today. A very nice boy. Quite good looking too. He sat down and had tea with me. A good cook too. He dropped off some groceries for us."
Kallen groaned. Ever since her mum had seen Navin's photo and met him a few times, she'd been taken in by his charm and her mum had become pro-Navin ever since. Kotomi slid a plate in front of her daughter and watched her reaction.
"What...is that?" she asked, eyeing the dish warily. It looked to be a mix of cubes of some gluten-based soy or potato, dripping with brown sauce, pieces of shrimp and chicken visible among the melange of spices. The smell however was far more appetising than the vision of the food itself.
"Chai tao kway. Fried carrot cake. He cooked it for us. It's some Singaporean dish. Trust me, it tastes better than it looks. He also bought some crabs for you from Sapporo. You know...that boy is really nice. Good looking too. But there's something a bit off about his eyes...." Kotomi mused.
Kallen gave a grunt before she tucked into the dish. She failed to conceal the look of pleasure that passed across her face. Looking up at her mother's sage face, she finally cast her eyes down in defeat and began to tuck in.
It was a long night ahead of her, dealing with both her academic work and reading through the executive details of her reserve unit. Wolfing it down in what could only be described as a Kallen-like manner, she followed it with a cold Yebisu lager.
She glanced at the clock and wondered how her boyfriend was doing.
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"Mum. Dad."
The boy stared wide-eyed at the scene before him. The corpses were still warm, spread eagled on the bloodstained sheets. Bullet holes pockmarked the entire wall of the bedroom, foam erupting from the bloody mattress.
He gingerly touched them, prodding his mother's arm. It flopped uselessly around, hanging over the side at a strange angle. Her eyes were wide open. He approached his father's corpse, noting how surreal it seemed, a stream of blood dripping down the mahogany skin, already drying in a small puddle beneath.
He didn't scream. He simply stood there, unable to act. He heard footsteps as someone came up the stairs calling his name. Her voice was familiar. Aunt Rania. Uncle Alamgir's girlfriend. She was an adult. She'd know what to do.
He heard the footsteps come to a sudden stop before she urgently began to call his name, walking up to him and hugging him. The boy began to shake before he began to beat her, small fists simply hitting her chest as he screamed.
Navin stirred from his sleep and looked through the flow of green numbers that scrolled up and down his visions. He hated nightmares. He blinked and cleared out the cybernetic eyes. They had replaced the organic , biological eyes he once had, lost to torture while in Chinese captivity.
He'd been 17 then, a veteran of a full year of active operations, acting as the pointman for his NDU (Naval Diving Unit) team. Trained primarily as the close combat specialist along with cross-training as the medic and signaller, their small team had infiltrated a remote rig to rescue a captured officer.
While they'd succeeded, Navin had chosen to stay behind, distracting the Chinese and giving his comrades time to escape before mounting a rescue operation. To say that the interrogation had brutally failed to describe his condition by the time they'd rescued him 18 hours later was an understatement.
He'd had both shoulders dislocated, sprained his spine, shattered a clavicle, had his jaw fractured at eight different points and during the escape attempt an unlucky ricochet shot at point blank range had narrowly missed taking his brain. Instead it had entered his left orbital socket and exited his right, destroying the soft tissue of his eyes.
They recent advances in biological engineering and tissue cloning by Amistad Biologicals had opened up the possibility of restoring his organic eyes but he'd grown too used to his cybernetic eyes, the advantages they offered far in excess of anything human.
They enhanced his motor coordination, reflexes and reaction times to the point of being near-superhuman. For all intents and purposes, it was more apt to describe it as parahuman.
He blinked back the tears, shaking his head and clearing his mind as he looked at the newspaper articles strewn about along with the half-marked test papers and the flyers of the Ashford gala festival to be held in the Fenette Memorial Auditorium. It had been built using funds donated by an anonymous donor from Switzerland, supposedly a cousin of Shirley Fenette, a friend of Kallen's and former Student Council member who'd passed away in the revolt of 2018.
But his attention was focused on the announcement in the newspapers, of the smiling face that dominated the front page. Lieutenant-General Fhajad Sorentho Nair Sahar.
"So you're coming to Japan...brother" he thought silently. The relationship between him and his half-brother was....strained, to say the least. The most they had in common was a father, nothing more. Fhajad had led a charmed life, rising up the ranks as everyone praised him. He'd taken over his father's position, surpassing his legendary father in nearly every way possible.
Navin on the other hand had chosen a quieter existence, rather than having to live in his father's shadow. He couldn't be his father. He could never match up to his father. In his mind his parents were a vague shadow, figures composed of emotions of warmth, joy and laughter. His mother's scent. His father telling him stories and laughing at his jokes.
He loved his parents, cherishing their memory, as much as one could cherish the vague thoughts that floated through ones mind. But in the end, his true parents were his Uncle Alamgir and Aunt Rania who'd raised him, his family being the comrades who'd fought and bled beside him.
But always, the instant people discovered who his father was, the reaction was the same. They judged him. His actions. His behaviour. His character. His personality. And always, he was found wanting. In so many ways he'd tried to live up to the name yet never seemed to be able to reach it, always outdone by his elder half-brother, aloof and distant.
After the war ended in 2018, before he'd left for university, his uncle had brought him aside and told him a message he'd always kept to his heart. And slowly, his memory drifted back to that moment on the beach as he sat drinking beer with him....
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Alamgir and Navin looked out at the vast expanse of the Arabian Sea as it swallowed the yellow orb of the sun. A cool wind blew through the coconut trees around them, Alamgir shivering slightly at the cold.
"You're finally going to university. How do you feel about it?"
Navin shrugged. It was a change. But it was scary in a way. Since the age of 15, all he'd known was the military. Four years of his youth spent fighting and all of a sudden....peace. In a way it was good. But now, he had no idea what to do with himself.
"Second Lieutenant Navin Chirac. Has a nice ring to it doesn't it? Ben would've been proud of you" his uncle said wistfully.
"Don't bring up my dad Uncle. Just...please don't. All my life, I lived knowing that people would always expect similarly from me. I love my dad. I do. I've tried so hard to be like him, but Fhajad, he's just better in every way. Every time people look at me, they only see the Black Tiger's son or the Black Tiger's younger brother" he said, traces of bitterness in his voice.
He stiffened slightly as Alamgir put his arm around his shoulders.
"Navin. Listen to me. Nobody will ever be like your father, just as nobody will ever be like me. Nobody will ever be like you either. We are each and everyone unique. It's just that I was lucky to fulfil part of my potential. You're still young. You still have to find out where your strengths lie and develop them. No point fighting on grounds you're not genetically or mentally equipped for. Your brother...he's a different matter Navin. You found your mental limits. There's no point in pushing your weak points."
Navin listened. Typical Uncle Al. He'd tell you the truth straight to your face. Your strengths, moderate attributes and weaknesses. All in a single sentence. But the source remained his concern for Navin.
"I've got a gift for you before you leave."
Taking a small packet from his sling bag, he handed it to Navin who looked it over.
"Sun Tzu's Art of War?"
"In many ways, the person I am today is because of the strategies within. Know yourself and master the inner strength that dwells within, for then no man can defeat you. You will stand as a rock in the eye of the storm, the strength at the base of the pillar. In many ways Navin, you've surpassed your father and brother. You just don't know it."
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That had been the last time he'd had a lengthy conversation with his uncle. Since then, they'd only intermittently talked over the past five years, meeting for meals when he happened by Sydney or otherwise.
He reached out for the most treasured of his book collection, drawing the 'Art of War' from the shelf. It was well-thumbed, the cover creased and bent, wrapped in clear plastic to protect it against the elements.
His uncle had appended his own thoughts to it, tucked away in small notes where his spidery writing could be read clearly. "What is the ultimate battle strategy?" Navin read aloud, looking at the question.
He turned the page and there the answer was. Typical of his uncle; to avoid battle by removing an enemy's will to fight.
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Lelouch was currently losing any form of will to fight as he stared across the board at his opponent. He sat there, smiling serenely and grey-eyed as he tapped his fingers together. His opponent had outflanked him and set him up in a classic Lucena position.
It was a rook and pawn versus rook endgame strategy. The attacking pawn had cut off his king from the pawn by one file,while the pawn had reached the seventh rank.
"Do you admit defeat Anton?" the man asked, entire face aglow with the radiance of victory.
"Never!" Lelouch said with all the bravado he could muster, concealing his feelings of unease within. The man, Aziz Zahedi, had been staying with his wife in the inn for the past week, exploring the town and the mountains around the region. He'd gotten to finding out that Lelouch, going by the name Anton Marras, was a chess player of some skill.
The bet was simple. Aziz had smugly told Lelouch that if he couldn't beat him in a game of chess, their dinner tonight was free. Specifically, a lobster dinner, the most expensive meal on the menu. Up for grabs was a bottle of wine as well.
"This is the fifth and final attempt Anton. Come on already. I've already checkmated you the last four times. Go easy on yourself and give up" Aziz said amiably.
Lelouch rubbed his eyes, unbelieving at the level of strategy displayed by this man. The man was easily a grand master, as good as Schneizel, among the few who'd consistently defeated Lelouch in the arena of strategy and chess.
Assessing his position, Lelouch finally surrendered, conceding defeat as he shrugged his shoulders. Never since his resurrection 3 years ago had he suffered such bruising of his ego. In Monopoly, Caramia consistently beat him, her mastery of the ways of money and greed exceeding even his own attempts, while he was the master of Risk.
At that point Caramia walked in with Raven, Aziz's wife. In her fourth month of pregnancy, her abdomen was softly rounded, showing through the clothes that she wore. Raven was an elegant beauty, though her robes concealed the curves beneath.
"Aziz. Stop stomping the poor man at his own game" she said easily as she came to look over the board. With a slight sound at the back of her throat, she looked over it before reversing it and making a move on her husband's behalf.
At this point Aziz's eyes widened as Lelouch gave a wolfish grin and moved his queen forward, finally breaking the position.
"Check and mate. You lose."
Aziz paled considerably as he stared at Raven, eyes blinking in utter bafflement before she winked at him and entered the kitchen to join Caramia. She'd utterly annihilated his winning streak.
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"So that's how you keep him in line?" asked Caramia, laughing throatily as she placed the pizza into the oven. It was rare for Lelouch to find a good rival, though in this case it was more like Aziz finding a good chew toy to occupy his time.
"Yeah. He's such a dear . You wouldn't know it from the way he behaves though. So is it a girl of boy? Fourth month?"
Caramia ran her hand slowly over the bump. "Yup. Second trimester. A daughter. We've actually decided on a name. Shirley."
"We've got five of our own back home. Angela, Akal, Tumelo, Naris and Steven. They've all left the home. Then we had another two additions last year. Twins. Erica and Peter. Trust me. They're a handful even with Aziz's brother helping taking care of them."
Caramia smiled as she settled into conversation with Raven Roth. A couple hailing from Amsterdam, they'd been staying for a week in the inn and had gotten along tremendously with them. Raven was an art dealer while Aziz was a restaurateur, running a franchise of eateries from Paris to Tokyo. Thus the excuse to travel. They were in their early 40's, having married as teenagers, both coming from middle class families.
But what had really solidified the fast friendship into concrete was when Caramia discovered from Raven that Aziz ran a series of gourmet pizza parlours and Asian restaurants. Aziz had congenially invited them to enter his restaurants. All she had to do was call Aziz or Raven and they'd speak to the manager.
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Caramia opened a bottle of red wine and let it breathe for their dinner. Aziz and Raven excused themselves as they left to explore another village over the hill, an hour's drive from where they were.
Lelouch came in,a brooding look on his face. Caramia stifled her laughter, trying not to rub his defeat in. Ever since Aziz had come, Lelouch had to fight for his victories. She rested her chin on his shoulder before grabbing his hand.
"Lulu, let's go look at the sunset. Come on."
Rising up, Lelouch followed C.C. as she pulled him along. Pulling on a sweater to protect against the chill of the wind, Lelouch looked at C.C. and smiled softly. Her fondest wish had always been for true, genuine affection and she'd found that in him. Her warlock, as he'd declared to her.
He'd left a bitter path behind him, carrying the burdens of the world and drawing their hatred, all for the sake of Nunally. He'd manipulated and broken too many people in the paths behind him for his hands to ever be free of blood. Bitter, black and tainted. But here, with Caramia, he had a second chance. It wasn't his burden any longer. His desire was simply to live out his life with her.
He had no need to change the world. No drive to make it better. His life was here and now, in this present. The world had its own guardians and he'd paid the bitter price. It wasn't his responsibility nor within his power to effect change. He was simply Anton Marras, husband of Caramia Marras, the chef of Marras Inn. No more. No less.
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They held hands and walked along the cliff trail, overlooking Lake Geneva from their position. It spread out like an azure desert, the setting sun slowly sinking into a cleft in the mountains. Her slender fingers entwined with his own and he looked on contentedly as they sat down on their usual rocks.
"Lelouch. I want you to feel this" C.C. said softly as she took his hand and placed on on her rounded belly, letting him feel the faint movements within. Lelouch's eyes widened as he felt the tiny flutters, looking at C.C.'s own green eyes.
Their relationship was a miracle in itself. Of the billions of humans who lived, she possessed the Code. Of the millions of people within Japan, he'd been chosen. Of the thousands of those who sought to change the world, he'd made it.
And then he'd paid for his sins as he'd sunk into darkness, knowing the consequences of his actions, paid for in the blood he'd shed. For wasn't it he who'd once said "...only those who are willing to walk the path of blood can wield power over life and death. Only those who are willing to kill should ever possess the power to rule."
And here he was, alive once more. And beneath the fingers, the flutters of his child within C.C. told him that life continued on.
"You were there for me in many ways. I was your shield. And you were my warlock. When I lived and walked the earth alone, it was you to stood by me. Who showed me that there was more that I could live for. I'm still immortal Lelouch. I still have the Code. But....I'm glad I'm with you" C.C. spoke softly.
"I know. Um...you don't mind me naming her Shirley right?" Lelouch asked, unsure of himself. He felt that he owed it to Shirley. His first love and best friend. The girl whose life he'd touched and destroyed. Yet through it all she'd always loved him. He'd thought of naming her Euphemia but decided against it. Some names struck too deep at the sins within his heart.
Caramia smiled. "It's a good name Lulu. I didn't know her that well but she was someone dear to you. She was always a happy girl from what little I knew. It's a name for a happy person, a beloved person. And our daughter will be happy. We'll make sure of that."
A comfortable silence enveloped them for a bit before C.C. piped up.
"I'm thinking of taking a holiday Lulu. We can leave Roland to run the inn for a month and just leave. I've been thinking of going to Arles in France. Raven told me that Aziz has a pizza parlour there."
Lelouch groaned. "What's with you and the pizza?"
She shrugged. "I'm Swiss Italian. It's in the blood. Besides, they have a fireworks festival there at this time of the year and besides..." C.C.'s eyes took on a sly look.
"There's a chess festival going on as well. All the masters of Europe and Britannia are going to be there. I think -"
"We're going. I'll take care of everything" Lelouch rapidly answered.
C.C. smiled. Exactly as she'd planned. All the conditions of her plan were fulfilled. Finally, she would go to one of the premier gourmet centres of France. She had yet to mention to Lulu that there was also a pizza festival going on at the same time. Finally, she had manipulated the great Zero into following her plans.
C.C. had every excuse. After all, she was eating for two.
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Alamgir sat at the head of the empty table. The room was dim, shadows dancing across the walls as rain poured down the windows of the skyscraper. Typical Singapore weather during the monsoon season.
The past month had seen several more Stewards of the Mantle dead, cutting down the numbers from a total of 20 to the current 12. Albus had escaped assassination by the width of a hair in Russia, narrowly avoiding a car bomb that had killed the entire board of director's of Siberian Hydrogen Works which controlled much of the hydrogen and fuel cell production in the Russian Federation.
He sat staring at the rain as it meditatively drummed against the windows. Rania entered, followed by Miguel a moment later. Alamgir paused in this thinking, halting the many threads of awareness that ran through his mind.
He'd tried to pierce the psychic barriers but failed. It's geographic location was somewhere around the Cape of Good Hope, but that had turned out to be a decoy. Since then their adversary, whoever it was, had continued to move around, using psychic beacons to confuse him.
But their greatest advantage lay in the nameless crystal they possessed, crafted by Aslan eight millennia before. It obscured his senses, from the arcane forces of reality warping that defied the limits of Euclidean realms such as the reality that humans perceived to the psi he exercised.
He'd tentatively tried using his more esoteric abilities, best described as arcane. En Sabah Nur's powers basically defied several well established scientific theories and the only way Alamgir could sum it up succinctly was with the term 'sorcery'. Despite receiving the experience and knowledge of Aslan, he couldn't use his abilities as much. They'd yet to recover from the backlash he'd suffered and only slowly were they stabilising.
"Alamgir. We're being attacked on all fronts. All our public archives are being destroyed bit by bit while my informant network is throwing up clues of a group calling themselves the Legacy of Kratisteros. Something about a global conspiracy dedicated to world domination. Thankfully our covert archives are hardened..." Miguel said, trailing off.
Alamgir nodded. Someone was already targeting the Amistad Conglomerate, tying them up in courts of law with lawsuits and allegations of corporate misconduct. Several of his chief science staff, crucial to several military projects, had disappeared off the face of the Earth. Quite literally. The police couldn't find them nor could his own corporate security or the private defence agencies he'd hired.
Rania spoke next. "I think its time we conferred with Fhajad."
The response that met them was stone silence. Miguel looked at her as if she were a madwoman while Alamgir's face took on a dark expression. Navin's elder brother, he was an extremely prominent individual and one that Alamgir and Miguel had difficulty dealing with.
Benjamin Nair's first son, he was the current 'Black Tiger' of the Indian Commonwealth Black Knights, in command of the prestigious Colombo Capital Defence Division. He was also a man with imperialistic ambitions that unsettled Alamgir greatly. And every bit the brilliant strategist and manipulator his late father was.
"No. Not that bastard. He'll use us to fulfil his own agenda. You know where his ambitions lie" Alamgir literally spat, trying to quell the anger at Fhajad that resurfaced with the memories of him and his mother. Fhajad's mother had been a Sahar and that was bad enough.
The Sahar family had a long history stretching back millennia and claimed descent from divinity like the Imperial Family of Japan, claiming descent from a being who'd come from the stars. The veracity of this claim and the claim itself was something usually glossed over and left within family genealogies, many dismissing it.
Alamgir could confirm that fact for the truth, at least partially. Aslan had spoken of them as wild cards, the joker cards in a deck. Much like the many prophets he'd witnessed, Alamgir had an antagonistic history with the Sahars.
He'd asked Aslan once before of how best to manage them and Aslan had simply shrugged, saying that like Isa (Jesus) and Muhammad, they were something beyond his own mandate, mentioning only of indirect links to the Ulthaj. Which didn't do anything to improve Alamgir's mood. The Ulthaj were an abstract he didn't wish to consider but thankfully Aslan said they weren't a factor. What he knew of them was already complex enough.
Immortals whose lives spanned centuries he could deal with. Ancient conspiracies centred around world domination he could handle. A powerful family of psychics who'd used his brother as their tool and left him to his death despite their ability to halt it was another matter entirely. It became personal.
"Your vendetta lies with Fhajad's mother whose already dead. Our master would have said as much" Rania spoke reasonably. She'd taken the news of her father's death relatively well though she was still emotional at times. But her long life had taught her emotional discipline and she coped with it well.
"Besides, for all his imperialistic ambitions, Fhajad and his family would make a powerful allies for ourselves. Just as we allied with the Anglican Church during the time of the Spanish Inquisition, or as we did with the caliphs, I see no difference. It is something we've always done. The Diamond Lotus endures. We always win because we outlast our foes. We rise like a lotus from the mud of the lake, enduring all that assaults us."
Miguel spoke next, finally conceding the point. Decades as a bureaucrat and spy master had taught him to be pragmatic, looking at the world from the perspective of 'might makes right'. It was a simple truth that whoever had the most power would triumph, as was often the case.
As much as one cheered the underdog, popular appeal could only take you so far. No matter how skilled an insect, one could never defeat a mountain alone. Where strategy, wit and cunning failed, one could only resort to brute force.
"An alliance with Fhajad Sahar would be beneficial to us. His star is rising and he is currently courting Princess Sophia yu Britannia's hand in marriage. For all his imperialistic aspirations, he would make an excellent ruler of the Indian Commonwealth. He is already an Honorary Knight of the Rounds. Like Schneizel, he would make an excellent emperor in a time of peace. Of course, he's nowhere near as manipulative but he is by far the more ruthless."
"You would know wouldn't you Miguel? After all, he was one of your students" Alamgir said snidely, biting back an insult. It was irrational to hate the boy, but it was also hard to let go of a hatred towards the boy's mother no less.
Miguel nodded. "A student who's surpassed his master. You may have....issues over his ambitions and his past but I have to say that in this course...Rania's right. There's a summit in Tokyo coming up. The United Federation of Nations Annual Summit. He'll be attending to take up his seat as the new Chief-of-Staff while Tohdoh is to become the new Deputy Prime Minister of Japan and Vice Chairman of the Central Military Commission of the UFN. Li Xingke remains Commander-in-Chief and Chairman of the CMC."
Alamgir gave an irritated growl before finally nodding his head. They'd have to cut a deal with Fhajad whether he liked it or not.
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With honed reflexes Zero moved swiftly to the side of the Empress as the SAS stormed the building, designated the hot-house. The Special Air Service of Britannia's military were its foremost special forces unit, generally regarded as amongst the best-trained in the world.
Adding an element of realism to the training was the use of live personnel as hostages during room clearing operations. SAS counter-terrorist and hostage rescue training was facilitated by the highest members of Britannia's government, many of whom took part in actual training exercises.
With a burst of flame and smoke an operator entered through the wall and aimed a pinpoint burst at the target dummy a few inches past Nunally, the bullet exiting through its head and burrowing itself into the concrete wall. He felt Nunally tense at the gunshot before calming under his grip.
Within seconds it was over as the lights came on, the harsh fluorescent lights showing the soldiers who had been acting as their hostage during the exercise. The reaction was near-instantaneous. They dropped to their knees and bowed their heads.
"Empress. Permission to rise" came the gruff voice of their platoon commander, a senior lieutenant by the rank bars on his collar. Nunally nodded and the rose before swiftly departing. She rose on her walking stick and walked out, flanked by Zero on one end and Miguel on the other end.
"Very impressive Miguel. I see that putting you in charge of the Special Operations Directorate has yielded fruit. The other members of the Joint Intelligence Committee have said as much. But how would you feel about a sabbatical?" she asked.
"I'd feel honoured to serve you in any capacity Empress" he answered smoothly. The situation between them had been somewhat precarious, with the revelation of his knowledge of who Zero actually was.
Compounded by the fact of his complicity in the Zero Requiem, knowledge of Suzaku Kururugi being alive could start off a new war, with most nations more than eager to attack Britannia for its deceptions. Nunally had initially considered having Miguel liquidated – assassinated in other words. At least until she'd sat down with Cornelia and discovered to what extent Miguel wielded influence in her court.
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Britannia's legacy of Social Darwinism still held sway in the intrigues of the court, the aristocrat constantly seeking for weaknesses to exploit and gain favour with the Imperial Throne. While lessened since the death of Lelouch, such traditions still held sway despite the purging of countless aristocrats during Lelouch's reign.
Charles di Britannia had been a powerful emperor who'd ruled with an iron fist and hammered his adversaries into submission. In the brief interregnum that had marked Lelouch's ascent to the throne, followed by Nunally's own, her kinder, gentler stance and magnanimity had been taken as weakness.
One of the few reasons she'd so quickly been able to restore order was that many of her enemies had been ruthlessly silenced on the orders of Zero as well as by Miguel de Silva. In essence, she was where she was because of the actions of her siblings, lover and follower.
Nunnally had suffered as much as anyone under the reign of Charles di Britannia. She'd witnessed her mother assassinated in front of her eyes, would forever be unable to walk properly due to the extensive nerve damage to her spine, had witnessed her brother's descent into near-insanity.
She'd been violated by her father through his Geass, robbed of her sight, betrayed by Suzaku when he'd sold Lelouch to the Emperor, manipulated by Schneizel willingly in her plan to take on the world's suffering while aiding Schneizel's plans for world conquest, suffered the death of her beloved half-sister Euphemia and had her brother die in her arms, his name forever cursed in history.
It was testament to the strength of her heart and pragmatism that allowed her to work with them, choosing reconciliation and peace over vengeance and conflict. She and Cornelia had formed a close alliance with Miguel, keeping a watch on Suzaku and Schneizel, because without a doubt Cornelia knew that Miguel's loyalty belonged to her.
Ever since the day of her birth, he'd been the surrogate father to her compared to the distant Charles, giving her a sense of normalcy by taking her to theme parks or visiting her in boarding school. It had been Miguel who attended her school sports festival and military academy parades, him who'd given her hand to Guilford at their wedding.
In every way Cornelia knew that Miguel was hers, willing to die for her if need be. He'd risked his life in protecting her daughter, Euphemia Guilford Britannia, as well as her own more times than she cared to count.
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"I'm attending the UFN Summit in Tokyo. Naturally the UFN doesn't wish to have any substantial Britannian military presence within three hours flight of Japanese territory. They're rather touchy about it for reasons we all know. Suzaku will be at my side. But I need a negotiator I can trust. They want to thrash out an agreement on the use of space resources, nanotechnology and the future Martian and Venusian colonies. That's where you come in Miguel."
"So its a working holiday for me then?" he asked without a smile. Nunnally shook her head. The man was a humourless bastard sometimes. To her knowledge the only holidays he'd ever taken were to visit Cornelia in her youth.
"Well...yes. Cornelia will be Acting Prime Minister while me and Schneizel thrash out the details. I'll need your help in making it fair for us. We're already saddled with paying Japan, Russia and the European Union war reparations over the next century. We need to at least maintain our power base in space."
"Hm. I will handle that. Rest assured we'll reach an equitable solution. The last five years have been hard on the empire."
"On the whole world Miguel. Also, it's the security that I'm worried about..." Nunnally added. Given her presence there along with several other world leaders, they were a prime target for assassination.
Several anti-Britannian groups had already been prosecuted for attempted assassination on Nunally while foreign groups from Europe, Asia and Russian as well as local Japanese groups were intending to make their presence known. Miguel had been busy coordinating with his counterparts to lessen the problem, though several groups were still known to have plans in motion.
"Two battalions of the Singapore Guards Regiment as well as their 1st Commando Battalion and Royal Malay Regiment are responsible for security during the summit. The 1st Brigade of the Colombo Division will also be present and cooperating with the Tokyo Metropolitan Police to provide perimeter security."
"Let me guess; Lieutenant-General Fhajad 'Black Tiger' Sahar is present" Nunally said, noticing the twitch on Miguel's face.
"Yes Empress."
"Do you know -"
"He is a man who is very much his father's son and even more so in capability. A man to be feared and not a man I'd want as an enemy. He is as charismatic as his father if not more so and a strategist as good as Prince Schneizel. He deserves the title of Black Tiger for a reason Empress Nunnally. A powerful ally for any faction though one needs to beware of his ambitions."
Fhajad Sahar was her future brother-in-law and had placed himself to become the future bound consort of Sophia, one of the countless half-siblings sired by Emperor Charles. He had not married her as that would have eliminated her legitimate claim to the throne, just as Cornelia had only taken Guilford as her bound consort.
The system of marriages was simple. A bound consort, being usually a man, was a partner who was legally bound under a marriage contract to one of the partners. The children produced from the union generally bore the mother's surname as the proper family name but upon it was appended their father's surname.
As such, Cornelia had been able to marry a commoner without having to surrender her right to the throne, while preventing Guilford from having a legitimate claim. Though Nunally had eventually made him a Duke and elevated his position into the peerage, rendering this less of a problem than before.
Due to Fhajad having legitimate claims to the thrones of all the states that compromised the Indian Commonwealth, he'd been able to leverage on his political influence. As such he'd become a celebrity in South Asia, the handsome war hero whom the masses clamoured to claim the empty throne of the Indian Raj.
Nunally was keeping a close eye on him.
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Senior Warrant Officer Zaki 'Zack' Kim often left immigration officials confused due to his rather exotic sounding name and looks. People couldn't figure out if he was Korean, Mongolian, Arab, Nepalese or something else entirely. He was actually Korean and Javanese, Java being an island in the Indonesian archipelago.
But the issue wasn't that of his ethnicity but of his purpose in being in Japan. A member of the Singapore Guards and Commandos, he was 5'7 and in his early-40's, though behaved nothing like the stereotype of a grizzled veteran, because he wasn't.
He'd decided to come to Japan on a short holiday with his family before rejoining his unit while they provided security for the upcoming UFN Summit. Of course, the one thing that prevented him from truly partaking of the family holiday was a phobia of roller coasters. His wife and children loved them. He didn't.
He was a trained commando and guardsman who regularly jumped from planes, was paratrooper-trained and a close combat specialist as was demanded of most guardsmen. Which inevitably surprised most people who knew him. As was his companion.
"Yo Zack, anything the matter?" his compatriot asked. Master Sergeant Anwar Ramachandra was a man of Anglo-Burmese, Spanish, Swedish and Chinese descent, which made for a spectacular blunder among the bureaucrats when trying to classify him. In his early 30's and 5'6, he was of average height for a Southeast Asian but had an intense muscularity about him that warned attackers off.
"You remember Navin?" Zack asked, looking at the map then at the school.
"Yup. Demon Thunder. Ben's boy. Fhajad's brother. Why? He retired from the service after peace broke out. I tried tracking him and -"
"Well. We found him. Want to pay our old friend a visit? Seems he achieved his dream. Now a teacher at Ashford. Since we got a few days before our families go back and we got to return to duty, I figure we can pay him a visit."
Both of them looked at each other and grinned. Zaki had been like a younger sibling to them during the war years. Living in their camp, whether on the Agni, the jungle or in the city, they'd seen him grow up over the years from the time he was twelve. It was nice to see him finally working. They couldn't wait to see the shock on his face. As they strode forward, a strong hand reached out to grab both of their shoulders.
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Navin gulped down some soy milk, glad to finally have a break from the incessant questioning of the students. He'd not only been assigned to teach politics and history but was now the assistant trainer of the rugby team and the kickboxing club after the principal had decided to look through some of his old records and found out his former position in the military.
He walked into the gym, noting how the girls team was clustering around some of the boys who had taken to sparring. He was covering for the girl's teams coach for a week due to her being on leave to care for her sick daughter. Cancer. The staff had chipped in where they could to help.
"Come on ladies. Gear up. Time for your warm up."
As they assembled, one girl in particular kept on looking back at the ring as the two boys exchanged blows. With a snap of his fingers Navin caught her attention.
"Desiree. I know you've got the hots for Alfie but seriously, eyes on me. I know I'm not as handsome but -"
"Oh, come on Mr. Chirac. Everyone know about you and Ms Kozuki..." another girl piped up.
"And that's none of your concern. In fact, since you've got so much energy to talk...Alice. Take the girl out for three laps around the school."
"But Mr. Chirac, that's six kilometres around the school. I mean -"
"Four laps. Just go and do it. When you come back it's an hour of pad work and cardio."
As the girls exited, some of them shooting glares at him, someone began to applaud.
"You'd have made an excellent officer if you'd stayed on in the military Navin. Being a teacher is a waste of your talents. A waste of your true abilities. You should have listened to me."
He whirled around to see his two old friend, Anwar and Zaki, flanking a man he resented more than anything in the world. His eyes narrowed as he glared at him, Anwar and Zaki excusing themselves as they inched away from the target of his wrath.
"Fhajad."