An Explanation: Hello guys. I've been sitting on this for a awhile now, chipping away little by little. I admit my heart wasn't totally in this chapter, I'm still not entirely satisfied with how it came out and wanted to release it at the same time as the Black King fight next chapter so this didn't feel like a let down after taking so long. But with life not getting any easier I felt it was not fair to keep you waiting any longer than I had to.
If you read these things, you know I transferred colleges a while back. What I didn't say was my new college didn't accept all my credits from my previous one, so I've been taking extra classes to make up the difference and it's starting to look like I'll need to take an additional semester this or next summer to graduate. The good news is that with all this extra work I've been doing, I managed to qualify for some really good business opportunities. The work pays really well, and I'm lining up a good job for when I graduate. The problem with this is the business program requires me to commit a significant portion of my after-school time, which is already limited due to my night shift job.
Now that I've clarified where I keep disappearing to, I'm just going reaffirm I'm not going anywhere. It doesn't matter to me that I don't own the setting or I'll never be recognized for this, I'm so proud to write fanfiction because it means being able to share my ideas and know that someone out there likes what I have to say. Sometimes the only thing that keeps me trudging through the daily grind is the thought of coming home and getting another chapter up. It brings a smile to my face every time I open my email and see a new fav or follow or someone checking up on me. My future looks bright, but getting there is going to be a hell of a ride. Just know I will not let this story die no matter what that curveballs that ride brings.
Thanks for your patience and I hope you enjoy the insanity to come.
I fear all we have done is awaken a sleeping giant and fill him with a terrible resolve.
-Isoroku Yamamoto
Chapter Ten: Gathering Enemies
"Is everything ready for tomorrow night?" Lelouch asked into his cell phone as he stepped onto a train. It was late in the afternoon, the day of the assault on the Black King.
"Yeah, Zero." Ohgi replied. "The last of both sets of uniforms arrived last night. I'll have the vans ready in time for the signal."
"Good. I'll be in touch." He said as he hung up.
He smirked. There were only two more things he needed before he threw his plan into motion. In a moment he would have one of them: a distraction.
"Ladies and Gentlemen!" he loudly declared as he walked to the front of the car. "May I have your attention for a just a moment..."
To call the Kawasaki ghetto a ruin would be a generous understatement. That would imply there was actually something left of the pre-war city when the invasion of Japan was through, rather than a waste dotted with craters filled with rubble.
Before the war, this city was an industrial and cultural center for Japan. Countless people traveled through here on the railroad lines, stopping at the city to to rest and enjoy the wealthy city's pleasures. This was one of the cities hit the hardest in the fall of Japan. In an effort to cripple the Japanese infrastructure, the Empire had the city bombed out in order to destroy the railway hub. The Empire cared not where the bombs fell as long as their main target was destroyed, resulting in massive casualties and the collapse of the local economy. When the dust settled, the survivors were forced to relocate into a collection of shantytowns, while the few buildings left standing were claimed by the mafia's drug pushers and local street gangs.
After the war, the railway was the first thing the Empire rebuilt. The portion of the city still relatively intact was converted into a shipping settlement for the Sakuradite mining trade. The multiple railway lines that ran through the settlement continued to make it one of the most important hubs of trade in Kanto, with most Sakuradite shipments passing through from the mines in Fuji and the refineries in Tokyo.
And now the railway was being targeted once again, ironically by the descendents of the men who built it and died trying to defend it. The local resistance cell, the 'Red Dragon Clan', was a group that fancied itself a team of guerrilla warfare professionals. In reality the group was more of a ragtag militia, composed mostly of teens with nowhere else to go and a handful of war vets long past their prime. Despite that the group was still steadily gaining popularity with the people of the ghetto with a steady supply of new members trickling in daily.
Recently granted an armory's worth of explosives by Kyoto, the gang was taking delight in exacting revenge on the occupation. Using their new found strength to ambush occupation patrols along the ghetto perimeter, they were slowly working up the courage to attack closer and closer to the settlement itself. Before now the people of Kawasaki had little choice but to accept the occupation, lacking the means to offer any real resistance. Now that weapons had literally fallen into their grasp, hope was returning to the city little by little.
But at the same time however, the power was starting to go to people's heads. Talk in the ghetto soon switched from attacks on border patrols and gangsters to anticipation of attacks on the settlement itself. "Soon it would be the Britannian's turn to burn," many Clan members liked to say. It wasn't that they were necessarily bad people, but to obtain so much power so suddenly after a lifetime of bitter resentment was bringing out the worst in people. Drunk on their recent success, they were only emboldened when their contacts in the settlement reported more military in the city due to their efforts. They were sitting on enough napalm to send a whole base of Britannians back to hell and had so far gotten away with their attacks, so they were feeling pretty confident in their chances.
The gang was currently holed up in an old police station in one of the more intact portions of the ruins. Due to the possibility of a military siege, a portion of the gang was currently in the process of transforming the section of wasteland surrounding its hideout into a gauntlet of traps. Minefields lay undetectable beneath a layer of rubble, mortars and rockets encamped in caved in buildings were posed to shoot down all attempts at air support, and firebombs set up in alleyways would turn entire abandoned blocks into mazes of fire. They reasoned that if they ever needed to dig in for a siege, their maze of traps would buy them time to escape while also whittling down the Britannian's numbers.
And that strategy might have even succeeded, if Britannia had chosen to annihilate them the conventional way.
It was late at night when the alarm was raised. Only a few soldiers were still awake, trying to set up a their base's final defenses before they set out to look for another patrol to jump. One of the workers happened to look up and spotted a faint shadow in the sky approaching against the light of the settlement. A knightmare transport. Quickly their leadership was roused and the Clan was on alert in case of an impending attack.
The leader, an old war veteran in his sixties, peered through his binoculars at the incoming aircraft. It was hard to make details out in the twilight and glow of the distant settlement, but it looked like there was only one, probably a scout for the military or police.
He let himself relax and chuckled darkly. Stupid Britannians. This was a perfect chance to test the rest of their new arsenal. Blowing up one of the Brits' super weapons would boost morale for when they eventually attacked the settlement. And no one knew the ghetto as well as them, after they finished off this guy they'd relocate their base elsewhere and leave an empty building filled with traps for the Brits to kill themselves over.
Quickly, he radioed on of their artillery positions. "Kenji there's a knightmare flying in, take them down."
"Roger."
Immediately a few plumes of rocket fire launched up from the ruins and sailed through the air towards the incoming transport. But the pilot showed surprising skill, veering away and evading the rocket fire. He expected the transport to abandon its approach and pull up, but the pilot only surprised him again by diving lower and decelerating. Was he planning on unloading a knightmare in the middle of a artillery strike? Whoever was flying that thing was insane.
Seeing their attempts fail made them redouble their efforts. More rockets and mortars went up, the power of an military grade arsenal turned against the pilot. The explosive display briefly reminded the ghetto inhabitants of a firework show, from a more peaceful time...
As the rockets closed in, the only option the pilot had left if they wanted to live was pull up and bail. And bail they did, but it came as a surprise to everyone when the Knightmare detached from the transport while it was still moving. As the Knightmare plunged towards the street, its arms shot out and dug into the side of a derelict skyscraper. Clutching the interior of the building as it fell rapidly slowed the knightmare's descent, allowing the pilot to land on its feet in the street in a cloud of dust and rubble.
As the dust dissipated, the fighters got a better look at the knightmare. Painted deep scarlet and black with a single horn protruding from the front of its head, the knightmare looked more like an armored demon than a combat machine.
"Kami..." someone muttered behind him.
"A custom job?!"
"Who the hell is this guy?"
Then the Gloucester turned and fixed its gaze on the compound. It had seen them.
As the knightmare began its seemingly suicidal charge towards their base, some of the fighters covered their ears or scrambled to higher ground for a better look. The approach to their hideout was rigged with mines, packed too close together for a knightmare to evade them. It would be blown to scrap before it got halfway through.
But the mines didn't go off as the frame passed over them. Like some sort of phantom, the distant knightmare relentlessly drew closer and closer in the darkness. Even for a Gloucester, it seemed to move with a speed and fluidity that shouldn't be possible for something so large. Either the pilot was exceptionally skilled or that frame was equipped with advanced hardware. Perhaps both.
While the men marveled at the audacity of the pilot and his entrance, the commander had a sinking feeling in his gut. Gloucesters were already the strongest frames on the market. Only the greatest of Britannia's aces were allowed to modify the model even further to suit their fighting styles. But Princess Cornelia and Lord Guilford were both reported to be on the other side of the city. That left-
"Kenji! Use the bombs!" he shouted down to the foreman of the group setting up the traps.
"What? We're not even finished setting up over here!" came the annoyed reply from below.
"Just do it!" If that knightmare reached them, then they would all die. He just knew. If that pilot was who he thought it was, there was no other way this fight could end.
As the knightmare glided closer the other fighters ran for their lives. Some guards opened fire, but against that reinforced armor the shots merely pinged off. As the knightmare entered the outer courtyard the leader pressed the detonator.
When they were put in, the explosives in the courtyard were meant as a last ditch diversion rather than a defensive measure. They were meant to be used during or after the gang had evacuated in order to cause mayhem and confusion while the Clan escaped from a safe distance. They never imagined what would happen if the bombs went off while the base was still inhabited. And on top of that, none of the fighters had any professional experience with any real explosives in the first place, regardless of their overconfidence.
As such, the world seemed to explode in a dazzling display of red and violet light the second the detonator was pressed. One moment the leader was crouched behind a wall, the next he was lying flat on his face in a fresh pit. As his senses returned and he stood back up, he gasped in horror and awe at the destruction he had wrought.
The whole street in front of the hideout was gone, replaced by a wall of fire and smoke. The heat was so intense, his hair was smouldering. Further off, he could hear the screams of his men caught in the blaze. The fire was spreading uncontrollably, licking the edges of the hideout and washing over the surrounding neighborhoods. The flimsy shantytown caught easily, and the heat set off the hidden traps causing a devastating chain reaction.
He could only stare in horror as a figure emerged from the inferno, the Red Glouchester. The frame was floating just above the pavement, strange devices attached to the feet let the frame glide over the flames and traps. He didn't bother running as the flaming machine bared down on him. It was all over now, he understood now who... or rather what they were up against.
Ruthless, relentless, and unstoppable as a act of nature, the Vampire had arrived.
The next day back in Tokyo, a funeral service was ending. The crowd of mourners was small, half a dozen people not counting the priest (who made a beeline for the exit the second he finished his sermon). The cemetery was run down and on the outskirts of the settlement, from a distance the service might appear like any other. Up close however, the bearing and clothing of the mourners gave them away as important members of the Area Government.
Jeremiah Gottwalt watched in silence as the last of the dirt was laid upon the grave. The service had been brief, uncomfortably so. The priest had sounded like he was trying to set a new record for the world's fastest sermon. But that was the way of life in the Britannian court. After you were disgraced, your "friends" and "allies" tended to drop you like a live grenade to avoid their own reputations getting dragged down with you.
And Kewell Soresi received no special treatment.
Kewell's life ended last week in a tiny holding cell under the Viceroy's Palace. His last days were spent in solitude, without even the military interrogators to keep him company. After the fifth "questioning session" when Kewell still refused to divulge the secrets of Project Orange the Viceroy's men knew he was too tough for the usual "interrogation procedures" to break. After the seventh session they finally lost interest his struggles and stopped coming down at all.
With the hunt for Zero's spies ongoing and Bradley's arrival nigh, the government hadn't wanted to draw the public's attention back to the issue with a public execution. So one day instead of delivering his meal his guards simply walked in and shot him.
Jeremiah wasn't as afraid as the rest of the nobility was about attending. As an agent of the Viceroy, his loyalty was beyond suspect. Besides himself, there were four other people at the funeral, two incognito noblemen and two soldiers. Clad in a full dress uniform, two members of the Valkyrie Squadron mourned in silence beside Jeremiah. Marika Soresi watched silently as the last of the dirt was laid on top of her brother's grave. Despite the grief she no doubt must be feeling, the last living member of the Soresi family composed herself well. She stood straight, and didn't let out so much as a sob. She'd been trained well to avoid showing signs of potential weakness.
The other Valkyrie put a supportive hand on her friend's shoulder. Marika and Liliana Vergamon had always been close friends, even back before the Valkyrie Squadron was taken over by the Knight of Ten. It was only natural that she'd come along to support her grieving friend and make sure any idiot that tried to take advantage of her in her distress got what was coming to them. For their part the two hadn't acknowledged Jeremiah, but they hadn't tried to get him to leave either. It was likely they were unsure of his intentions for coming here.
No doubt they were feeling conflicted. He was serving the Princess and had come to pay his respects, but whether he was innocent or not Kewell had shamed his faction, he had plenty of reason to hold a grudge against Marika.
But Jeremiah had no intention of betraying Markia. Unless of course she betrayed him first. Before Marika joined the Valkyries and long before Kewell turned traitor, they were his friends. Marika's unit followed the Knight of Ten wherever he went, so there was no chance for her to be involved in the Orange Scandal. His presence here would hopefully discourage anyone that wanted to take advantage of Marika's grief or cast aspersions on her honor. Whether their jobs made them friends or enemies tomorrow, he had more honor than to leave her to the wolves now.
If the occasion wasn't so somber, they all might have found it amusing how the other two members of the nobility with the spine to show up tried to dress inconspicuously while still remaining fashionable. Lord Dowman was wearing a trenchcoat and fedora getup straight out of cheesy spy movie, and Lady Cornwall was fussing with her outfit in the back, worried her ratty wig and costume glasses were clashing with her designer shawl. How out of touch with the people had the aristocracy become? And these were the idiots Princess Cornelia was competing with for control of the government. Liliana groaned and rubber her temples. No wonder His Majesty was resorting to his personal forces to keep the peace.
The members of the Valkyrie Squadron were among the finest pilots of the empire, both in knightmare frames and in the air. Until the empire perfected technology that allowed knightmares to fly, bombers and transport craft were still valuable tools in every theater of war. They were one of the closest, strongest strike forces the Goddess of Victory ever formed, and under her leadership they'd won the Empire many victories. Unfortunately, the skill they prided themselves on made them attractive targets for poaching by other groups. And when Luciano Bradley mentioned his interest in taking the Valkyrie squadron "under his wing" to The Emperor and his court, the princess begrudgingly sacrificed command of some of her forces to avoid risking her father's wrath. It was a shame the Valkyrie's reunion with their Lady was tainted by Lord Bradley's desire to humiliate the Princess further.
Eventually the two disguised nobles in the back decided to make themselves scarce, and Jeremiah and Liliana drew closer to comfort their friend further.
"...How are you feeling?" Liliana asked finally, then mentally kicked herself. How did she think Marika was feeling right now?
"Hm," the other girl hummed noncommittally. Liliana knew since learning of her brother's humiliating death, she'd been almost entirely silent.
This situation reminded Jeremiah uncomfortably of Empress Marianne's funeral in Pendragon. He remembered standing watch while the Ashfords sobbed inconsolably on each other. Prince Lelouch on the other hand was eerily quiet and just... stared listlessly at the grave. Jeremiah met eyes with the Prince briefly before he left, the anger and pain roiling behind those eyes made him shudder. Such concentrated hate had no place in a boy so young.
'No,' he realized. 'Prince Lelouch stopped being a child the moment his mother died.' He was getting that same feeling watching Marika stand over her brother.
"Marika." he said. No response.
"I knew your brother enough to know his family was the world to him. If he really did anything, it was only for the best reasons. If you need anything, you need only ask."
Marika finally faced Jeremiah. She inclined her head and smiled briefly before looking back at the grave.
Jeremiah supposed that would be the most he could ask for until Marika saw fit to come to him. As he took his leave, he missed Marika gritting her teeth and clenching her fists.
She refused to break down. She refused to give in to the burning in her eyes and show weakness when the man that got her brother arrested was still out there. So instead she focused on the other emotion swelling inside her, willing the fires of revenge to flare and dull the pain of her loss. And hands began trembling as she resolved to herself that she would regain her family's tarnished honor by taking everything away from those responsible for her family's disgrace.
The Valkyries tried not to think about what they did under the Vampire, but no matter the cost and no matter how many cities and lives she had to burn to get it, she would have her revenge.
Zero must die.
Kawasaki was burning. The heart of the derelict city was lit up like the day as raging infernos burned unchecked, spreading farther and farther. The surviving inhabitants of the shanty could only flee and watch from a distance, as their last spark of hope withered and died forever.
In the heart of the destruction, in a ruined compound, a lone figure stood. A red giant stood still as a statue, floating gently over a glowing crater in the ground. A bloodstained concrete pillar clutched in one hand, the ground surrounding it covered in smouldering, ruined corpses. Quietly the cockpit hissed open, and the pilot climbed atop his frame to appreciate the destruction.
The people of this city had lost everything in the war, and now what little of their legacy their children had rebuilt was gone. Years of rebuilding, returned to cinders in mere moments. To Luciano Bradley, the sight was truly beautiful. But as stirring as the destruction was to him, he was still not-quite sated. There was something missing that kept him from truly losing himself in the suffering.
He was certain it wasn't his new toys. The Emperor had spared no expense with his arsenal for his new assignment. The second prince wasn't the only man in the empire with a personal think tank. Some experimental type of armor gave his frame enhanced durability, and these "sand panels" made any mines or traps the guerrillas set utterly redundant. There were still a few more surprises His Majesty's researchers were still sending over that would make things quite interesting. He was making quick work of any who stood in his way, moreso than ever.
He blinked. 'That's the problem', he realized.
It was too quick. The fighting was far too easy for his tastes. He loved drawing another man's blood, but the ease at which he could slay these rebels dulled the experience. Despite the insistence of the foolish old OSI baron that thought himself his "handler" and the Viceroy that the Area resistance was not to be underestimated, the Elevens he had killed had done little to impress him, with few exceptions.
Speaking of which, he sidestepped on top of his Gloucester just as a bullet whizzed by where his head once was. He rewarded an Eleven in body armor who had the gumption to shoot at him with a quick death. One of his trademark daggers thrown with practiced ease stuck the man through an exposed eye, and he slumped bonelessly across the shattered wall he was hiding behind.
The Emperor seemed confident that he would find a slaughter worthy of his presence here.
Zero's antics so far were amusing, the way he ran circles around the Area authorities filled the Knight of Ten with a perverse anticipation for their encounter. He'd met men like him before. Ones like him drew others to him by the strength of his will. His confidence bolstered their own, and his men would fight to the death for what he represented to them.
He liked men like that. That blind trust made the deaths of their men all the more satisfying when he killed their leader and rendered their sacrifices meaningful. Idealists had no place in this world. The undeniable truth was the strong devoured the weak. And The Vampire so loved to feast on death.
The man he'd hit with a dagger was still moving down in the rubble. Groaning, the man tried to stand and pawed at the knife still embedded in his eye.
"Oh? Still alive are you?" Bradley crooned as looked down at the dying man. "How fascinating, how desperately a man will cling to life, even when he has nothing left."
Upon realizing he'd been spotted the man's struggles increased, but they were useless against a knightmare frame. Bradley jumped back into his cockpit, and soon the Gloucester's hand tightly seized the broken man and pulled up into the air so he was dangling above the Gloucester.
"Wait! Please!" the miserable man sobbed. He didn't want to die here! This wasn't how it was supposed to go! They were winning, and now for this... this monster to wipe them out like they were nothing... It just wasn't fair!
"What do you value most, ELEVEN!?"
He could contain himself no longer, The Vampire threw back his head and cackled in twisted euphoria as his knightmare's gauntlet took the screaming man and squeezed. As the open cockpit was spattered in red, the Vampire's tongue lolled.
'Oh, come back soon Zero. I can't wait to taste your blood.'
The display was all the scattered survivors still hiding nearby could take. Near simultaneously, the last of the Red Dragon Clan broke and scattered into the burning ruins. The lucky handful that survived their near-mindless flight to freedom would keep running until their legs gave out beneath them, as panicked as if the Devil himself was hot on their heels.
As far as they were concerned, he was.
In the Takasaki settlement bureau, Cornelia Li Britannia eyed the carnage in the distance from her throne. The city had been burning for a day and a half now. From a mixture of the terrorist's incompetence and Bradley's brutality, a large portion of the ghetto was burning to the ground. She only half listened to the chatter of the staff in the command center as she reflected on the state of the Area.
"What do you think Viceroy?"
The Viceroy wore an impassive face, but behind her mask of calm her mind continued to race. After the last railway bombing, it was too dangerous to allow a terror cell to operate so close to such an important hub of trade. The Red Dragon Alliance was just one in a long line of novice terror cells she'd eradicated one after the other since leaving the settlement.
She was unsure how to feel about the recent rise in terrorist activity. On one hand it made her job somewhat easier, as the more aggressive the terrorists became the easier they were to pinpoint and eradicate. On the other hand the escalating civil unrest was upsetting her subjects. While Area Eleven had always had issues with terrorists, before now the numbers at least knew their place and refrained from acting so brazenly to avoid bringing sieges down on them. But now many of the terrorists seemed to be actively looking for opportunities to go after the occupation, almost daring her to appear so they could take a swing at her.
"...Viceroy Cornelia?"
It was clear Zero's victory in Saitama had long reaching consequences. That fiasco showed the numbers they didn't need to have strength equal to Britannia's to fight back. As loathe as she was to admit it, the battle was an effective combination of guerrilla warfare and precise applications of force on the terrorist's part. It was a strategy many cells had begun to emulate. The more competent Elevens realized now they only needed to apply what little force they had where it mattered, as long as they kept the Britannians occupied everywhere else.
Additionally, she was starting to notice an ominous trend. Nearly all of these were groups were novices that had somehow acquired equipment more advanced than pre-war guns and armor. Yet another sign of a higher power working against her. But how could she lure them out, get them where she could-
"Princess!"
She blinked as she was jostled back into the present. Guilford gently nudged her shoulder from his position beside her throne.
"Are you well, Viceroy?" Guilford asked with his usual stoicism, but Cornelia could see the raw concern in his eyes.
"I'm fine Guilford." She dismissed him gently with a wave of her hand. It was good to have him back at her side.
But then another man approached. She fought back the urge to scowl. This man was dressed in the uniform of an OSI member, and high ranking one at that. This was the commander of the additional "reinforcements" that came with Lord Bradley, Baron Grey.
"Is the Viceroy alright?" he asked.
"I'm fine, I was merely thinking."
"...I see." the man said, although he had a gleam in his eye that put Guilford on edge. 'What was he after?' he wondered.
It was omitted from the press release, but in addition to the Valkyrie Squadron the homeland had also sent a team of OSI agents to act as an "anti-terror taskforce". He didn't know what ulterior objective the Emperor had given them, but it couldn't be anything good. The Princess was keeping a close eye on the man and his flunkies, they couldn't make a move without her permission. She wouldn't let the man run free in her operations.
Even the Second Princess of Britannia knew very little about the activities of the OSI. From what she knew, the members of the organization were the Emperor's secret enforcers, tasked with missions a single agent like a Round couldn't do or couldn't publicly be affiliated with. Cornelia prided herself on her skill in combat, and her knights were among the finest in the Empire. To send a glorified murderer and the nation's most contemptible agency to keep tabs on her was a slap in the face to everything she stood for.
"As I was asking before," the Baron said. "What do you think of the Knight of Ten's tactics, Viceroy?"
"... Sufficient, if needlessly brutal." she mused aloud after a moment. She must admit after watching him in action the Knight of Ten was indeed a force to be reckoned with, but she hardly saw the point in such savagery.
"Thank you Viceroy, your approval pleases me and no doubt will also please my Lord Bradley." the man preened. "No doubt any other terrorist group would have fallen just as easily! If the Area couldn't handle terrorists before, it can now. "
Dalton scoffed from over by the display table. The Baron was more cooperative than the Round, but was he really so stupid as to think the Viceroy would let such hubris stand?
Sure enough the Viceroy shot the man down with a smirk. "However, it appears that some of the terrorists escaped. And Sir Bradley's unit sustained no small amount of damage." she pointed at the main screen in the command center. It showed while the unit was still functional, it was still badly damaged by the explosions. Even for a Knight of the Round Cornelia thought it seemed like a foolish move to charge into a terrorist stronghold alone and expect to emerge undamaged. Was Bradley really that good?
"If you're so confident, then perhaps we should go find the JLF right now, and let Lord Bradley show them what he's made of on his own?"
The man grimaced almost comically. "Ah, not necessary, Viceroy. I only meant-!" He sighed and deflated. "...may I have your permission to use one of Tokyo's Knightmare bays to conduct repairs? The frame has some valuable customizations that my office would like to be preserved."
"Very well." she said. There was no harm in lending the man a hangar in the settlement. As long as he was away from the front lines and where she could keep an eye on him, she was satisfied.
The baron smiled and bowed low, suddenly far too cheerful. "Thank you, Viceroy. Our people will make the arrangements."
Cornelia rolled her eyes at the doddering old man' sycophancy. In any case, the terrorists were dead. The operation no longer required her oversight.
"I will retire for the evening." she announced as she rose from her throne. "Continue the extermination, but notify me if they attempt to make contact. We may be able to get information about their benefactors from defectors."
"Of course, Viceroy. And again I sincerely mean you no disrespect, I am a humble servant of the Imperial Family." Grey said with an elaborate bow, not sounding sincere or humble in the least.
Guilford rolled his eyes. Something about the Baron rubbed him the wrong way, the man's ingratiating way of speech and the way he switched between emotional extremes hinted a duplicitous nature. It reminded him too much of a certain other noble who in Guilford's opinion had no place in Her Highness' inner circle.
The bridge staff rose and saluted while the Viceroy made her exit, followed shortly by Guilford and Dalton.
After the Princess, Dalton and Guilford were out of earshot, an OSI technician ran up to Grey.
"Sir, we did receive a call from the terrorists." he reported quietly, so the rest of the bridge staff couldn't hear.
"Oh? Whatever could they want?"
"They said they wanted to negotiate the terms of their surrender, and evacuate their wounded and families."
"...I see. Have you traced the call?"
"Yes, Sir." he said as he handed over a datapad with coordinates.
"Good." the Baron smile became wicked as he walked over to the radio and opened a secure channel. "Valkyrie Squadron commence carpet bombing on the following coordinates..."
The Takasaki Bureau's finest rooms weren't as spacious as the Viceroy's Quarters back in the settlement, really the size of a large apartment. The local governors didn't live here of course, they had their own palatial estates elsewhere. No, these chambers were meant for VIP's passing through. No doubt the designers of this bureau never anticipated such an important visitor, or they would have made the rooms far more luxurious.
They didn't immediately remind her of Clovis, and to the Viceroy that made them more than satisfactory.
Only after the guards departed and the doors closed did Cornelia take off her long cape and fall back into the overstuffed chair behind the desk. Very few were trusted enough to see the Second Princess in a state of relaxation. But Dalton and Guilford were her most trusted advisers, and the guards posted at the door were hand-picked. They would not be overheard or disturbed. After Cornelia gave them permission to be seated, she began.
"So," she sighed "what are your opinions on our guests?"
Dalton snorted. "It's obvious they're a ticking time bomb. Anyone with eyes can tell Bradley's looking to challenge you."
Cornelia chuckled. "Indeed."
None of them were stupid, this whole situation was a giant insult. His Majesty sending his own forces to combat a threat the Viceroy had assured him was under control implied she was weak, that he doubted her abilities. In a society that revolved around taking advantage of the weak, such allegations could prove deadly. The fact that His Majesty sent the Vampire and a gang of his personal spies was just another stab at her honor.
Cornelia wished she could tell these vipers to piss off back to Pendragon, but knew that wasn't an option. She knew The Emperor was using these annoyances to test her, forcing her to swallow her pride. Everything she said and did in front of Bradley and the OSI would likely be repeated to His Majesty. Her position was in jeopardy, and by extension her little sister's.
The Empire did not tolerate failure, and her efforts over the past few months had only resulted in the first stains on her otherwise flawless military career. If the Emperor's goon squad scrounged up (or fabricated, depending on their orders) an excuse to replace her, or arranged a more gruesome punishment for her she could not bear to imagine what would happen to Euphy. So all she could do was play the part of the gracious host, and wait until His Majesty was satisfied or his men overstayed their welcome.
"As long as we keep Bradley and Grey preoccupied and away from the settlement, it'll minimize the interference they can cause our operations." Guilford stated. "If we continue to have success against the numbers they'll eventually lose their excuse for being here and get recalled."
"That will work for a while, but we can't put off state affairs forever. When we return to the settlement, they're going to want to be present for state business." Cornelia said as she poured herself a glass of wine. "And we can't always count on one of us being there to keep Bradley in check, he's a monster, he'll find a way to slip his leash eventually."
Dalton rubbed his chin. "Princess, I've been meaning to bring up a security concern, but now I think this is a chance to kill two birds with one stone."
Cornelia swirled her wine. "Go on."
"Princess Euphemia doesn't have a real Royal Guard yet." He stated. "I've been considering the Princess' security since Saitama. But now, we could kill two birds with one stone. Royal Guards don't answer to anyone but their princess. We've been having trouble securing the loyalties of the local nobles, but appointment to the guard could allow us to appoint trusted agents to positions in Pendragon. And since Princess Euphemia won't be leaving the settlement, our agents would have a valid excuse to watch Bradley while he's at state affairs.
Guilford nodded. It was a viable plan, what one would expect from Cornelia's best tactician. The Princess clearly agreed.
"An excellent idea, I approve."
Dalton bowed his head, accepting his lady's praise.
Something occurred to Guilford and he frowned. "We won't be considering Jeremiah Gottwald for the Royal Guard, will we?"
"Lord Gottwald is already following a paper trail left by Project Orange. It's important to follow up on the lead before the trail goes completely cold. I trust him to get that done."
Guilford scowled, but for some reason refrained from correcting the princess' assumption about his meaning. He didn't know Lord Gottwald personally, but he just didn't trust the man with such important work. Even though he was the knight of the Second Princess, he'd never gotten along well with the majority of his fellow nobles. He loathed how they made their living exploiting and selling each other out. Like any other patriotic Britannian he believed the maxim the weak were fed upon by the strong, but in his opinion the nobility had long since forgotten their place was under the Royal Family. The nobility should have no agenda beyond furthering the causes of their respective lieges. He truly believed if they could stop their petty infighting and cooperate for just a few weeks, the empire could be forever rid of the Zeros and terrorists that popped up in the occupation's wake.
Before now Jeremiah Gottwald always came off to him as little more than an opportunist, jumping from master to master to further his own agenda. He begrudgingly admitted Gottwald had since shown he had some honor and loyalty, but those were offset by his obvious political machinations and personal ambition.
Guilford had already confided his suspicions to the Viceroy before... Well, at least he thought he'd confided in her, his memory had been a bit... fuzzy lately. He blamed it on the lingering effects of his concussion. It was likely that was why he hadn't been able to identify any of his Eleven captors either.
...No matter, Princess Cornelia seemed certain the Purist could be trusted. And if that was the view of-The Master-His Lady, Guilford could only -obey- watch see what came of things.
"Unfortunately, I can think of no one else besides Gottwald we can call on." he finally said.
"Hm." Cornelia mused as she finished her wine and rose from her chair. "Draw up a list of potential recruits. We'll let Euphie knight one and appoint the rest of the acceptable ones to the guard."
"Of course, Viceroy."
"Dismissed."
Guilford and Dalton rose and bowed, then began to depart to let the princess rest.
"Viceroy, what will happen when Zero shows his face again?" Guilford asked suddenly. The masked man seemed to be laying low for now, but it didn't seem to be in his character to ignore Bradley's challenge for long. Already the masked man had demonstrated himself to be more cunning than the average terrorist.
"Then we'll let Bradley have his fun. He'll either make a fool of himself or finally end the bastard."
"Maybe we'll get lucky and those monsters will kill each other." Guilford chuckled, only half-joking.
Cornelia and Dalton grinned, more at Guilford trying to joke than the joke itself. "We can only hope."
Later that night, Lelouch was sitting in his room making the final arrangements for the party tonight. He smirked as he watched the prerequisites for his plan fall into place.
Unfolding Events: Potential Terror Plot in Tokyo Settlement!
"Our studio and police hotlines continue fill with messages from anonymous callers, claiming to possess information on impending terror attacks. As many of the threats made in the calls contradict each other, this activity was initially dismissed by authorities as an elaborate hoax. That was until a call sent to our studio led to the discovery of an explosive device hidden under a car parked just across the street. Police officials have identified the device as a demolition charge typically used by Eleven construction companies in building demolition. The charge was not armed but was attached to a "threatening message" addressed to certain members of the police department. The specific contents of the letter have not been released, but the police chief has stated they are taking the threats very seriously. Police are being dispatched to the landmarks and business centers threatened in the calls.
Until it can be determined which calls are real and which are false, citizens are urged to stay indoors and avoid traveling on public transit until the threat has passed.
The current list of targeted locations include Tokyo Tower, Clovisland, Pizza Hut and-"
Lelouch chuckled. Everything was falling into place.
With one hand Lelouch dialed a number into his secret phone while the other fiddled with an e-mail on his laptop.
"This is Reid, this better be important." An irritated voice snapped on the line after a moment.
"Diethard Reid, this is Zero."
"Z-zero!?" the man gasped in shock.
Lelouch smirked as he sent the man a video file that would forever change the revolution.
"Do you want to witness the creation of a new age for mankind? If you do, I have but a simple task for you to prove your worth..."
AN: And another chapter down. I apologize my return came with little more than a buildup chapter, but it builds up a few big developments I've got brewing down the track. I'll probably revise this chapter...again... whenever I actually have time, but it's better than total silence.
To celebrate getting to ten chapters and as an apology for the delays, I'll answer some questions and concerns about the story next chapter. I can't guarantee I'll get all of you, but leave your question in a review and if there aren't too many spoilers involved I'll respond at the top of the next chapter.
My thanks to all my readers, and everyone who's reviewed or messaged me! See you next time!