Disclaimer: I do not own Code Geass or Gundam UC, both are owned by Sunrise.

Forward Unto Dawn

Chapter 8

"I was told that I was free to take advantage of my accommodations, at least until further arrangements could be made." Nonette replied, placing her magazine down and regarding Haman with a small smile. "Well to what do I owe this honor, to be visited by Her Excellency the Chancellor of the Axis Federation Princess Haman Karn?"

Haman gave a small laugh. "Well you seem to be as the reports say you are, Knight of Nine." She replied while taking a seat opposite Nonette. "I suppose that should also answer your question."

"No it doesn't." Nonette disagreed. "If that was the only reason, I'd probably be in a cell of your intelligence service and entertaining your interrogators by now."

"That's perceptive of you."

"Thanks."

"You're a Newtype and therefore you're more valuable than just a source of information."

The alien thoughts slipped into Nonette's mind, and her eyes widened as she reflexively lashed-out, the clumsy and unfocused response skidding off of Haman's mental shields impotently. Haman's lips twitched with a smile as Nonette glared and raised a hand to her temple in pain. "Stay out of my head, Newtype." She snarled.

"As you wish…" Haman said off-handedly. "…Newtype."

"I'm not a Newtype."

"Oh but you are: not fully-realized and very much untrained, but still a Newtype for all that." Haman pressed.

"Let's assume that you're right, and I am a Newtype." Nonette growled. "What's it to you?"

"Let's just say that I'm curious." Haman said with a shrug. "I'm curious how you're able to keep yourself stable without the training and knowledge to temper yourself with. After all as a Knight of the Round, you live a very exciting life. Untrained Newtypes have existed in the past, but a proven distinction has since been found between those with peaceful lives and those with not."

I can attest to that personally.

Nonette glared at Haman for the second mental intrusion, but the other woman didn't seem to care. "Don't get me wrong Knight of the Round." Haman continued. "Axis, no Zeon is hardly a moral paragon considering the One Week Battle or Operation Stardust. But there is a world of difference between fighting to free the space colonies from Earth's tyranny no matter the cost, and fighting to extend a fascist, totalitarian autocracy over an entire world for the sake of a bunch of inbred brats who merely live to satisfy their whims."

"Fine words…" Nonette hissed. "…but they come from the highest of the Axis nobles, isn't that right, princess?"

"Oh I'm quite aware that the possibility of Axis' nobles eventually going the way of their Britannian counterparts exists." Haman conceded to Nonette's surprise. "But there are ways to limit the damage they could cause. And I'm going to make certain before I leave power, that no brainless dolt will ruin the legacy of the Zabi family. That is the beauty of devotion."

"Devotion…?"

Haman merely smiled before leaning forward and sliding a leather packet forward across the table. Nonette took it suspiciously, and blinked in surprise at the credit cards inside. "I'd love to stay and chat…" Haman began while rising from her seat. "…but duty calls. I should be able to come and see you again in a few days or so. Feel free to go around the city if you want, those should provide ample funds for you."

Nonette stared at Haman crossly for a moment or two, and then she sighed and smiled. "Well this is very generous of you." she quipped, and Haman raised her eyebrows in surprise. And then she narrowed her eyes in realization.

So that's how she does it. How foolish…

"Aren't you worried I might just…vanish with the wind?"

"And pray tell where would you go?" Haman asked dryly. "I have a whole fleet to chase you down with if you ever somehow managed to abscond with a ship."

"It was worth a try I suppose." Nonette replied in a huff. "Oh well, I suppose I'll just have to make do with what I get. I'll get babysitters, won't I?"

"Policemen make for good impromptu pack mules." Haman said with a shrug.

"Oh, you're right! Well that makes things a whole lot easier!"

"As if you didn't already know about using them that way…" Haman thought to herself before asking one last question. "…just one final question though…"

"I'm listening."

"How does it feel, holding it all in while working for a cause that you don't really believe in?"

Nonette looked stricken for an instant before she rose in fury…only for a smirking Haman to close the suite's door behind her. Nonette stared at the door for a moment longer before sitting back down. "You know nothing." she whispered.

It was just a small town in the Amazon basis. It was nothing special really. The people there lived simple lives, growing corn and raising goats and poultry for their livelihood. They cared little for the outside world, and aside from a small tithe due to the local lord they owed nothing to it.

The lord died.

He had been a kindly man, a true jewel in the mud, who truly cared for the people who lived on his land. A lot of locals attended his funeral, much to the distaste of his relatives.

A distant relative of his inherited his lands, and besotted with tales of ancient gold tore up the earth and rainforest in search of treasure. He didn't find it of course. The gold of the ancient Americans had never been found, and probably would never be.

The young lord was almost ruined though. Great sums had been spent on clearing the rainforest and breaking the earth, and all for nothing. So he raised the tithes, and conscripted many of the locals to work in the mines to try and recoup some of his fortunes. The locals, already seething at the damage to their livelihoods the young lord's delusions had done, sent a delegation to protest.

They were hanged at once.

Revolt erupted in the fief, and one that quickly spread across several more fiefs. Nobles and sycophants were lynched…including the cousin of a duke in the Emperor's favor.

High-performance prototype Redcoats swooped low over the village, giant flamethrowers belching flame like the dragons of legend. The flimsy houses went up as though being devoured by some ancient monster, filling the air with the sound of screaming and the stench of burning flesh.

Knight of Nine Nonette Enneagram let no emotion show on her face as she swept the ancient pyramid with her flamethrower, and said nothing as screams echoed in her cockpit. The cockpit was NBC-sealed. The external audio receptors were off. Her mouth was shut so the screams weren't coming from her either, as unthinkable that might sound.

She could still her them scream.

She even heard a Britannian soldier comment with a laugh. "It smells like roasting pork."

"How was the mission Nonette?" Cornelia later asked her, when she got back to Pendragon.

Nonette wanted to tell her how insulted she felt fighting enemies who couldn't even fight back. She wanted to say how little honor there was in burning people's homes down. How she still hears the screaming of children as the napalm burned them, how the women scream and beg as the soldiers of their country toy with them before killing them, and how she couldn't do anything to stop or punish them.

The victims were just Numbers after all.

They were always just Numbers.

Just Numbers…

It was the same with every mission, every battle and operation she had been involved in, even before she became a Knight of the Round. Why should she care? Why does she care? Why do they keep haunting her?

But instead she just laughs and pats an annoyed Cornelia on the head. "Same old, same old…" she says with a grin. "…nothing worth talking about…by the way, have you heard about Guinevere..."

"You know nothing." Nonette whispered wearily.

The suburbs of Toledo were seething with heavy fighting, Axis soldiers and Spanish resistance fighters and militia fighting to root out dug-in Britannian troops. A squad of Axis soldiers jump out of an APC, and rush through a square doubling as a fallback point as star-shells explode overhead, phosphorus burning bright and lighting up the night sky.

The squad sergeant confers briefly with the lieutenant in charge of the district, who directs the squad to a Britannian-occupied building at the district's edge. The squad goes through the alleys and as they approach their destination the sound of gunfire could be heard, along with shouts in Spanish.

Sergeant Pick barks orders out, and the squad goes to ground as the squad marksman takes aim. He takes out the sentries at the back of the building, but not quickly enough: the second man manages to shout an alarm before getting shot. Pick curses, and motions Privates Kevin and Robb forward. The two soldiers take cover beside the door, while the rest of the squad stay in cover.

Kevin nods once at Robb, who readies his shotgun. As heavy footsteps are heard pounding closer on the other side of the door, Kevin quickly kicks the door in and just as quickly steps back into cover, while Robb pumps several rounds of buckshot into the room. Three Britannians fall backwards on the ground, two dead with their chests and faces reduced to bloody ruin, while the third moans and wheezes heavily and wetly through a ruptured lung.

He was put out of his misery as the rest of the squad funnels through the backdoor and thence to the lobby. They arrive just in time to catch the Britannian rearguard in a flanking movement, gunning down four soldiers along with the militia from the front.

"Sergeant John Pick, Axis Army…" Pick introduces himself with a salute to the leader of the militia squad, who merely nods in acknowledgement. A brief burst of machine gun fire from the upper floors breaks the conversation, and after a brief discussion the militia stay to secure the ground floor while the Axis soldiers secure the upper floors.

Smoke grenades are used to cover their approach through the second floor landing, only for the Britannians to open fire through the cloud. The Axis soldiers stay put until the Britannians pause to reload, and then two men run for the nearest cover, and barely make it before the Britannians fire again. However Axis soldiers are able to return fire now, forcing the Britannians to concentrate their fire on the ones in cover.

This gives the Axis soldiers taking cover below the landing time to lob flash-bangs over to the Britannian positions, and as the grenades go off the Axis soldiers storm forward. It's only a matter of moments before the five Britannians were dead, and the squad split into two fire-teams, one each to the rooms on either side of the hallway.

The first man to enter one of the street-side rooms got a bullet in the neck, and fell gurgling. The second caught a bullet in the shoulder, and spun crying out in pain to the floor. By then the rest of the fire-team were breaking through the door, and gunning down the Britannian machine-gunners along the window.

"Medic…!" one of the soldiers shouted, even as something ground to a halt outside the windows. A Sutherland, one of the Britannian urban combat mini-mobile suits or as they called it a 'Knightmare', and it was levelling its 40mm cannon at the building.

It took only a few rounds to collapse the building, burying the Axis soldiers, Spanish militia, and Britannian troops under the rubble. The Sutherland moved along further into the district with two others like it, as part of a general Britannian counteroffensive to drive back the Axis push into the city.

A trio of Tiger MBTs were dug in as improvised pillboxes on top of a low hill in the suburbs, their 120mm guns firing on Britannian targets in range highlighted by high-flying Crusader Recon Types or by Axis Army and Spanish militia in the area. A platoon's worth of Axis troops were also dug-in around the area, exchanging fire with Britannian troops dug in below the hill and the tanks' line-of-fire.

"Listen up boys…" Second Lieutenant Kevin Black began while walking along the line. "…word is the Brits are launching a counterattack, and a battery of 120mm mortars are moving up to join our position."

"We'll be a priority target then." One soldier commented, and the lieutenant nodded.

"That we will be…" The lieutenant agreed. "…that's why we…"

The lieutenant broke off abruptly as something that looked like a bladed weapon of some sort attached to a wire lanced into and tore off a tank's turret, the remainder of the vehicle exploding shortly afterwards. As Axis troops dove for cover, a cylindrical grenade-like object arced overhead. The lieutenant's eyes widened with recognition.

"Cracker grenade…!"

The Chaos Mine exploded, showering the Axis lines with shrapnel and shredding the remaining tanks' tracks. As Sutherlands ground their way up the hill followed by the infantry, the Axis tankers scuttled their vehicles before abandoning the position with what infantry could still move or they could move with them.

One of them took the time to fire a white flare over the position, indicating its status as 'overrun'.

Three Paladins flew over Toledo, the squad leader reading a priority communication on her panoramic monitor. "From the look of things the Brits are mounting a counterattack." Captain Iryna Chernenko finally said over the secure line. "I'm sending the data over the secure line."

First Lieutenant Natalia Arlofskaya gave a whistle. "From the look of things they're throwing everything they've got at us." She whispered. "It's obvious just by looking at the number of men and vehicles involved in the southward attack. All or nothing, is that what they're going for?"

"Something doesn't seem right." First Lieutenant Vanya Bragin remarked. "This is stupid they know they can't beat us decisively with an offensive with their Spanish forces cut off from reinforcement and supply. Their only chance is a defensive to grind us down."

"That what I thought too." Natalia said.

"Or maybe they're trying to cut off our head with a single blow…" Iryna said in her turn. "…General Veers' command post is barely twenty-five kilometers south along their line of attack. Somehow I get the feeling the Brits are going for a decisive battle."

Iryna paused and laughed. "Well, if it's a decisive battle they want, let's give them one shall we girls?" she asked.

"I don't mind."

"Sure thing…!"

"Good…!" Iryna said while sliding her DSD into a terminal and opening the Britannian channel, and ordering her squadron to do likewise.

"Uh captain…?" Natalia said in confusion. "With all the Minovsky Particles in the air, I don't think listening in is going to be of much help."

"Who said I was listening in?" Iryna replied, music beginning to play over the channel as the glittering specks of Britannian mobile suits appeared in the distant night sky. "We'll tear those mobile suits apart, and then crush the Britannian ground forces from the rear…now Delta Formation!"

"Roger…!"

"Roger…!"

"Rastsvetali iabloni i grushi…" Iryna sang as she fired four times, the first three beams hitting true but the fourth beam missed. The Britannian returned fire, only to be shot from a different direction by Natalia. "…poplyli tumany nad rekoj. Vykhodila na bereg Katyusha, na vysokij bereg na krutoj. Vykhodila na bereg Katyusha, na vysokij bereg na krutoj."

"Vykhodila, pesniu zavodila…" Natalia took over, expertly avoiding Britannian fire with a series of fast swerves and barrel-rolls, and returning fire with deadly aim. Three beams hit, and then she fired her rear missile launchers. "…pro stepnogo, sizogo orla, pro togo, kotorogo liubila, pro togo, chi pisma beregla. Pro togo, kotorogo liubila, pro togo, chi pisma beregla."

A Britannian mobile suit opened fire with Vulcan cannons, shooting down the approaching missiles, only to be stabbed in the back with a beam saber. The unfortunate pilot screamed briefly in agony as his legs were vaporized by the beam saber's plasma, and then the Redcoat III exploded, leaving the Paladin singed but unharmed.

"Oj ty, pesnia, pesenka devichia…" Vanya sang in her turn. Shoulder-mounted beam cannons fired repeatedly, the beams vaporizing one unit and scattering the rest. Two were pulverized when she launched her missiles as she flew by, the Britannians not having time to dodge or intercept. The survivors were gunned down by the rest of the squadron.

"Ty leti za iasnym solntsem vsled. I bojtsu na dalnem pograniche ot Katyushi peredaj privet. I bojtsu na dalnem pograniche ot Katyushi peredaj privet."

"Enemy reinforcements inbound." Natalia observed.

"And they're bunched together…" Vanya said gleefully. "…let's do it!"

"Oh…!"

"Jetstream Attack!" the three of them said as one, beam shields flashing as they closed at maximum speed before beams began swatting the Britannians like flies from the sky, the three women singing in unison.

"Pust on vspomnit devushku prostuiu, pust uslyshit, kak ona poet, pust on zemliu berezhet rodnuiu, a liubov Katyusha sberezhet. Pust on zemliu berezhet rodnuiu, a liubov Katyusha sberezhet."

As burning wreckage fell from the sky, the three Paladins swooped down in a broad arc, beams and missiles flying. Tanks, IFVs, APCs and infantry died by the squad, while Knightmares were reduced to piles of burning scrap. All the while Iryna sang Katyusha's last stanza, the static doing little to reduce the horror the Britannians felt at the Russian words in their channel from the Axis pilots.

After all, they couldn't know that no formal alliance – or even talks for that matter – existed between Axis and what was left of the EU.

"Rastsvetali iabloni i grushi, poplyli tumany nad rekoj. Vykhodila na bereg Katyusha, na vysokij bereg na krutoj. Vykhodila na bereg Katyusha, na vysokij bereg na krutoj."

The seeds of tragedy were sown.

"Toledo is overrun."

The words echoed in Madrid's command center. Brigadier General Viscount Ronald Grey sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Twelve thousand men, over two hundred tanks, mobile suits, Knightmares, and other armored vehicles gone, or as good as gone. "How…?" he asked wearily. "By all accounts they should have held out for months on the defensive. How could they have fallen so quickly?"

"Apparently Colonel Wainright decided to engage the enemy in decisive battle early this morning, attempting to break through the siege lines and eliminate the enemy commander."

"Idiot…" Grey snarled.

"The colonel died in battle." The aide concluded, and fell silent. Grey passed a hand over his face.

"He died with honor at least." Brigadier General Sir George Merryweather remarked. "Instead of skulking around he took to the field and died with weapon in hand, as a true testament to Britannian spirit and valor."

Grey glanced at his fellow general with disguised anger and contempt. Merryweather embodied everything that was wrong with Britannia. The sense of self-entitlement, of assumed superiority, of might makes right…

"The only reason we're at war now is because of thinking like that." The general bitterly thought. He didn't want war. He only joined the military because his own chances of inheritance had originally been nil, due to disagreements with his father and relatives over the lifestyle and culture of the nobility. Ronald Grey held noblesse oblige seriously, too seriously according to his late older brother.

That was the same older brother who was killed by a fellow noble in a duel of honor…and left Ronald as the Viscount Grey. Not that Grey had any intention of pushing his views in court, much less entering it any more than necessary. Apart from his low rank, he knew that he'd be better off trying to make water flow uphill than trying to change things from the top-down.

It was better to stay in the military, to lead by example and show others what true nobility was.

He probably wasn't making as big an impression as he hoped but…every little helped. Who knew? Perhaps someday, just maybe, he would have made a contribution to making Britannia an example to the world that it should be, instead of the bloated monstrosity that it was now.

But it was still his country, and he needed to lead by example, and so he served. He led the soldiers of the Emperor to battle, to victory, and with as little sacrifices as possible on both sides of the battlefield.

"The enemy will be advancing north." Merryweather was saying. "Once they've secured Toledo, they'll head straight for Madrid. If Madrid falls, then there goes Spain. We cannot let Madrid fall."

Grey nodded. "The fortification of the city is already well underway." He said. "All we need now is to evacuate the citizens and…"

"The citizens again…?" Merryweather interrupted. "Grey you really need to stop with this sentimentality for the Numbers it's unbecoming of your rank and status."

Grey tried to bite back a retort without avail. "I'll thank you not to lecture me on noble behavior, Sir George." He growled. The other man looked uncomfortable for a moment further, and then he gave a cough.

"Moving on…" Merryweather began and indicating a series of locations on the map table between Madrid and Toledo. "…the enemy will move soon, however the opportunity presents itself to pocket and destroy the Axis forces as they move towards Madrid…"

"That is out of the question." Grey interrupted. "Our troops are spread thin we cannot afford any more expensive losses!"

"General Gray I will thank you for not being so defeatist about our chances in open battle, considering I will personally command…"

"The situation in the North German Plain two years ago is different from the situation now!" Grey interrupted again. "We have more tanks yes, but our mobile suit forces are badly-depleted with no hope of quick reinforcement from either the Homeland or France. You cannot be seriously considering facing Axis forces without at least parity in MS numbers!"

"Axis' own MS forces are spread out across Spain." Merryweather said dismissively. "Parity on the field can be expected."

"You assume Veers will not concentrate his forces…" Grey began only to sigh in resignation. "…Merryweather, if you go out, I will not allow you to redeploy the artillery."

"Are you serious Grey?"

"I need the artillery for when the Axis outflank your forces, and attack the city itself. I'll not have them outside the city when that happens."

That Grey had no expectations of Merryweather actually winning didn't need to be said. The two men locked glares for a long moment before Merryweather scoffed. "The Emperor will hear of this." He snarled.

"Yes, I'm sure he will." Grey returned with an air of non-concern.

Assuming you'll be coming back, you pathetic excuse for a knight.

Merryweather stormed off, barking orders to his aides and staff, and with a sigh Grey shook his head. "Your Excellency…" his aide began hesitantly. "…perhaps I could prepare some tea?"

"Hmm…? Yes, that'd be good thank you. But before that, I need the emergency evacuation plan first. I have a feeling we're going to need them soon."

Eyes turned and whispers followed a pretty young lady with black hair cut into a bob, provocatively-dressed in a sleeveless black shirt under a short-sleeved white jacket over khaki shorts that barely covered up to mid-thigh. Designer shoes in white leather left slender ankles bare to the eye, and more than a few men found themselves having to loosen their collars.

"Jessica Valentine…" the man manning the security checkpoint at the airport said while reading her passport, clearly having difficulties avoiding her…ahem, points of interest.

"That's right…" the young lady said softly and with more than a hint of enticement. The man swallowed dryly. "…I'm here to visit relatives in the Tokyo Settlement, and my security clearance from the foreign office should be attached to the passport."

"E-everything checks out fine…" the man finally said and handing back her passport. "…w-welcome to Area Eleven."

"Thanks." She said with a wink before replacing her sunglasses, eyes following as she headed for the terminal.

"This is Japan huh…?" Ple-11 thought glumly. "Oh man, I'm just in the airport but the city…its aura feels so stuffy…"

Elsewhere in Japan, several groups of men and women were landing along the coast, being helped ashore by men in nondescript clothes but with the general bearing of military men. The newcomers wore camo-patterned fatigues and berets, and equipment cases were being unloaded ashore from the inflatable rafts they'd used to run into Japan from a passing trans-Pacific Chinese freighter.

The cases, the berets, and the sleeves were all marked with a white-bordered, circular patch showing the image of a sixteen-rayed Rising Sun in red to the left of an orange background, partly obscured by white clouds. Kanji and kana were inscribed on the border in black: kumo no kishi.

"Welcome home Cloud Knights…" one JLF member remarked to the newcomers with a smile. "…welcome back to Japan."

A/N

With regards to Britannia pulling a Blue Cosmos on Axis, and Lelouch's possible Newtype Awakening, well it won't be for a while – I'd rather not rush this – but I can assure you (those who fear that this will be like the One Year War) that it won't be anything like the One Week Battle or Operation Stardust. On the other hand, it'll be worse than the Colony 30 Incident. Nothing more on that for now...