Pushing the side of his head deeper in to his pillow to get comfortable, Ciaran was just barely aware that he was reaching that moment of waking where he was still in the soft embrace of sleep but also at the point where the world outside his bed was becoming more palpable.
He hadn't reached the full point of waking, but he was aware of someone rocking him gently backwards and forwards, while talking to him.
"...ake up, Ciaran. Wake up."
He tried to resist the urge to open his eyes, but the insistent shaking and calling of his name made him crack. Opening his eyes with great reluctance, Ciaran was greeted to the sight of the smiling face of Euphemia, the pink haired girl's eyes alight with joy.
"Good morning, Ciaran!" She chirped, oblivious to the closeness of her face to his. The young man was silent for a few seconds, his eyes looking with a detached interest at the young princess before pushing himself up and flipping himself on to his other side, facing away from Euphemia as he tried to fall asleep. Behind him, he could hear the young girl give a loud huff of indignation.
"Hey! Get up!" She cried, trying to turn Ciaran over. He couldn't help but crack a smile as he easily fought against her minimal strength before deciding to relent as he pushed himself away from Euphemia and sat himself up, the blanket sliding down to pool around his waist.
"Okay, okay! I'm up, I'm up!" He said, laughing slightly before yawning, feeling the bed jolt slightly as he felt Euphemia climb on to the bed near him. Reaching over, he picked up his bedside clock. "Euphemia, it's half past seven. What's the emergency?"
"Do you know what the date is?" Euphemia asked him, cocking her head slightly.
Ciaran reached up and gave his head a quick scratch as he racked his head, trying his best to get his brain going so soon after waking up. "Umm... July... Fifteenth?"
"Correct!" Euphemia called out. "And do you know what the means?"
"Someone's birthday?"
Euphemia shook her head. "Nope."
"Some weird holiday of yours?"
Another shake of the head.
"Okay, I give up." Ciaran said with an exaggerated shrug.
"It's been over a month that you've been with us, silly!"
The young man was stunned in to silence for a few brief seconds before a goofy smile came to his face. "Holy crap. A whole month..."
"Well, a month and a few extra days," Euphemia corrected, seeming to be quite embarrassed. "I would have done something sooner, but we were all very busy."
Ciaran nodded in understanding as he let himself fall backwards on to the mattress, his head colliding with the pillow as he let out a little chuckle. "A month already? It's flown by, hasn't it?" Looking over, he saw Euphemia give a soft smile.
"I know. The time has just gone by and, I'll be honest, it feels like you've always been here." She turned her head to look at Ciaran and they shared a large broad grin.
"Anyway!" Euphemia chirped, hopping off the bed and turning to face him. "Get dressed in your best clothes, not your dress uniform. We're having a special breakfast in your honour."
Ciaran nodded in understanding, preparing to slip out of his bed as Euphemia made to leave the room before a sudden thought came to his head.
"Euphemia!" He called out to stop the princess. "What about Nonette and Dorothea? They don't know that I'm not from... well, from here."
In response, Euphemia's face beamed out a large smile. "Don't you worry about that, Ciaran. Cornelia and I have that under control. Now get dressed." She gave a small wave before exiting the room, leaving Ciaran to get dressed.
Walking down the hallway to the dining room, Ciaran did his best to sort out his tie for what felt like the hundredth time, and failed miserably. When he went shopping with Nonette, he had almost begged her to let him buy at least one clip-on tie but the Knight of Nine had vehemently refused.
"It wouldn't do for a man of your rank to be seen with a clip-on tie." She had said in a stereotypically snooty accent, but the small glare she gave him definitely told him she was not joking.
Drawing closer to the dining room, he stopped dead as he looped the fabric around the base of the upturned collar of his shirt. The tie was a deep purple, which contrasted with the cream and light purple shirt. Over that, he wore a dark charcoal suit and trousers combination.
Ciaran let out a deep, throaty growl as the tie slipped from his fingers again.
"Having trouble?"
Turning around, Ciaran found himself looking at Darlton, a mirthful smile on the general's face. In reply, the young man let the tie drop over his chest as he raised his hands in exasperation. "I can't seem to get it right, sir."
The larger man simply chuckled and gave his head a short shake as he moved to stand closer to the young man, taking a hold of the tie in his hands as he bent down.
"Did your father never teach you how to do a tie?" Darlton asked as he easily fixed the thin piece of fabric.
"He did once. For my high school prom," Ciaran said, trying to remember. "So that was about five years ago, I think."
Darlton didn't say anything in response as he finished with the knot, cinching it just below Ciaran's neckline before releasing the tie and pulling himself to his full height. Ciaran pulled the knot up and set his collar down as Darlton spoke.
"You don't talk about them. I've known you for a month and I've never heard you mention your parents once."
Ciaran still had his hands on his collar as he thought in silence about what to say. "I just didn't think that it was relevant. My parents were really nothing special."
He turned around to walk to the dining room as he heard Darlton fall in to step beside him. The duo was silent as they continued their walk before the young man spoke up again.
"Any clues about what's in store, sir?"
Darlton shrugged in reply, indicating he was a clueless as Ciaran. Turning a corner, the door with it's ever present butlers was in their sights. The young man continued walking forward before one of Darlton's hands stopped him, turning him around. Confused, Ciaran didn't protest as the general gave his suit a few tugs, setting it straight.
"You're not ashamed of them, are you?"
Ciaran was shocked by the question, his mouth hanging open slightly before he closed it, swallowing slightly. "No, not as such. I've just... I've just been wondering how they'd react to this whole mess. If they knew where I was, I mean."
The general didn't say anything before giving Ciaran a slight tap on the chest with his knuckle, a slight grin on his face.
"You became a soldier, a lieutenant right off the bat. In the space of a month, you've become a captain, gained the friendship of two members of the Britannian nobility. Hell, you've even made friends with one of Britannia's top generals and Guilford."
The young man couldn't help but chuckle at the dig at the bespectacled knight.
"And before you came here, you were... what were you again? A dish washer?"
"Eh, essentially."
"Exactly! All that in a month. Now I think your parents would be impressed by that, wouldn't they?"
Ciaran was silent in thought for a short while before his look of surprise quickly morphed in a grin, chuckling as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Bloody hell, sir. I'm embarrassed now."
Darlton only chuckled in reply as he and the young man continued their walk to the dining room. At their approach, the two butlers opened the door in to the dining room. Entering the large room, Ciaran was greeted with the sight of the two Princesses, Guilford and the two Knights of the Round all standing on one side of the table, a filled champagne flute held in their hands, although he seriously doubted it was alcohol. On the table in front of them, the top was covered in a variety of different foods.
"Happy anniversary..." The cheer trailed off as Euphemia, Dorothea and Cornelia blushed slightly at their words. Guilford shook his head as he smiled while Nonette howled with laughter at their choice of words. Standing just past of the threshold of the door, Ciaran and Darlton were silent for a few moments before they both cracked a smile and chuckled.
"Now that is the best example I've seen of bad timing, ever." Darlton said as he walked towards the table.
"Princess Euphemia, you could have chosen a better thing to call out." Ciaran said in a deadpan voice as he walked towards the group. The princess in question walked towards him and gave him a slight hug.
"Well, it is an anniversary, isn't it? It is the day you joined us here after all."
Ciaran quickly shot her a quick look that implied she was playing with fire, but thankfully no-one noticed as Cornelia walked to stand near the pair.
"She is right, Ciaran. You've been with us for just over a month and I think I can honestly say that you have had an affect on all of us here," The Second Princess said sweetly as she placed a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Plus, I also think that it is time that we celebrated your achievements, even if is unofficially."
"Hey, any excuse for a party is a good excuse," Nonette cut in as she plopped herself down on her chair. "And it shows how much of an affect you've had on her if you can get Nellie to throw a party."
Turning his head, Ciaran gave Cornelia a look of pleasant surprise. "You had a hand in this?"
Leaning forward, the older Princess dropped her tone to conspiratorial as she drew near his ear. "Anything for my little brother." She said quietly, her face beaming for a short moment before taking on a softer smile as she drew herself back to her full height and turned to address the whole room. "Well then everyone, dig in."
Accompanied by Nonette's small cry of joy, the group sat down at the table. Taking his seat, Ciaran was able to take in all the food laid out before him. Pancakes stacked by the dozens, laden with syrup, fresh fruit cut in to bite sized pieces, bowls of various cereals and jugs of chilled milk, all sorts of various breakfast food. There was even cake! Ciaran was dumbstruck.
"Something wrong, Ciaran?" Darlton said as he put some waffles on to his plate.
"No, nothing. It's... it's just that no-one's ever done something like this for me before." He couldn't help sounding as morose as he did, but he was right. In his twenty-one years, no-one had ever treated him as lavishly as he was being treated now.
"Well, you deserve it, Ciaran," The general replied, a broad smile on his face. "Enjoy it, lad."
The young man simply smiled in reply as he pulled some waffles towards him and began eating. He hadn't gotten in more than a few bites from his food before a small, muffled exclamation of shock from Nonette drew his and everyone's attention.
"Oh!" The Knight of Nine cried, swallowing whatever was in her mouth before she spoke. "I almost forgot. Darlton, do you think we should give Ciaran his present now?"
The young man was halfway through chewing a mouthful of waffle, so he could only hum in surprise as Darlton gave the champagne-haired woman an exasperated look. "Well, there goes that surprise."
"A present?" Euphemia asked, a happy smile on her face.
Reaching down, Nonette put her hand under her chair, obviously to retrieve the present, while Darlton spoke up again. "Yes, your highness. It was partially my idea, since I felt that, as a captain, Ciaran needs something that befits his rank. And it turns out that Nonette had just the thing in mind."
"Indeed I did!" The woman in question called out as she pulled out a small, blue box tied with a red bow from under her chair, standing up from her seat before she moved around the table. When she reached Ciaran's seat, she held the box out in front of her triumphantly, a large grin on her face.
With a hesitancy born from, his admittedly short, experience, Ciaran took the box from her hands. Almost immediately, he noticed the weight, his hands dropping slightly with the heaviness. Setting the box down on the tabletop, Ciaran undid the bow and the paper quickly but carefully. Beneath was a simple wooden box made of a dark wood. Sliding off the lid, he revealed a dark, satin interior which had a dull, metallic grey pistol nestled within, a magazine resting beside it. It was the same length as the pistol he had originally been given, but this one was more rounded on the slide and receiver, and the handle was made from what appeared to be ivory.
"It's a Webley .455 pistol. Semi-automatic, single-action. It's a classic, but it works." Darlton explained as the young man took the pistol from it's housing and held it in his hand, turning it this way and that, looking the pistol over.
"It's definitely got some weight to it." Ciaran said as he held the pistol in one of his hands.
"Thank you, to the both of you. I mean it." The young man said, a smile smile on his face as he placed the pistol back in it's box. He was about to remove his hands before Nonette placed one of her hands on his.
"That's only half of your present though." The Knight of Nine said with a grin, unnerving everyone around the table, Ciaran especially. The young man's body was wound like a spring, ready to lurch away at any moment.
Nonette struck faster than anyone would have thought. Leaning down, the champagne-haired woman pressed her lips to Ciaran's cheek, giving him a lingering kiss. No-one made any noise as the woman stood back up, the young man's face turning a bright shade of red. Nonette didn't say anything as she moved back to her seat. She just had a broad grin on her face as she sat down in her chair and continued eating her breakfast.
Ciaran pulled himself back up to an upright seating position, a blank look on his face as everyone looked on in silence. After a few tense second, the young man took in a deep breath before speaking, his voice coming out more steadily than he thought it would be.
"T-thank you for the present, Nonette. Although, if I'll be honest, I'll probably get more use from Darlton's present than yours."
Nonette looked up at the young man across from her as she shot him an annoyed look. However, this had the effect of breaking the tension as one by one, the other people at the table began laughing, the sound filling the room before they returned to finish their meals.
Partway through eating his meal, Ciaran gave Darlton a slight nudge to get the older man's attention.
"General, is it possible for me to get some more training in the Gloucester? I know I'm on on holiday and all, but I don't think I got enough practice in it the last time." The last part of the request was punctuated by a sideways glance at the Knight of Nine.
Darlton didn't say anything in response before he merely shrugged followed by a smile and a nod. "I'd be happy to."
"Can I join?" Nonette asked, looking up hopefully from her plate.
"No!" Ciaran, Darlton and Cornelia said as one.
Even with all the food before them, the occupants of the room quickly ate their fill. Nonette fell in to what could only best be described as a food coma, the champagne-haired woman slumping back in her chair, a serene look on her face even as her eyes stared unfocussed at the ceiling, leaving Lord Guilford to carry the Knight out of the room and Cornelia to become red with second-hand embarrassment even as she shook with barely constrained laughter.
Excusing themselves, Ciaran and Darlton left the table to head for the garage, leaving the two Princesses and the Knight of Four together.
"It's quite sad." Euphemia said dishearteningly, looking at her flute of orange juice.
"What do you mean, Euphie?" Her older sister asked, quickly overcoming her mirth at hearing her sister's tone.
"To give him a weapon as a gift. It just cements the fact that he's a soldier."
"And it's a path he chose of his own freewill, Euphie." Cornelia rebutted, giving her young sister a soft smile. "I am sure he is perfectly aware of the meaning behind his gift. Plus, he seemed quite taken with it too. Wasn't he, Dorothea?"
At the mention of her name, the dark-skinned Knight's head snapped up from looking at her emptied glass, her face slightly flushed.
"Pardon, your highness?"
"Are you okay, my lady?" Euphemia asked, her eyes showing the same concern as Cornelia, who leant forward, as confused as her younger sister.
"Y-yes, your highness. I'm just feeling a little bit too full from breakfast. Please excuse me." Dorothea said, quickly pushing back her chair and exiting the room quickly, leaving the two princesses in stunned silence.
Laying on her back, eyes looking up at the underside of the top of her four-poster bed, Dorothea's stomach was roiling. And not because of the food she had for breakfast. She could not deny that she had overindulged herself with all of the sweet food that had been present.
But that wasn't the reason for her distress.
It because of Nonette kissing the young Captain.
Dorothea had never been the most forthright person when it came to expressing romantic feelings in public. There was just something about the whole practice that just didn't sit right with her personally. Granted, she had been with Nonette enough to not be thoroughly bothered by it. Hell, she'd even been on the receiving end a number of times. Although there was the time that Nonette met Gino and that was awkward for everyone.
'So why am I bothered by this?' The Knight of Four mentally asked herself as she forced herself to sit upright. The interactions between Ciaran and herself had been nothing but professional. Their introduction had been short, even if Andreas had managed to get them and Guilford to play a small card game as an ice-breaker. And all of their their interactions had been anything but intimate. Even when she had helped him after his 'training' with Nonette in the Knightmares, she had only helped him after he'd thrown up by giving him something to eat and drink. All were harmless.
And then there was the night of the raid. The young man had been shaken by his first taste of combat and she had given him a shoulder to cry on, metaphorically and literally. It was only an attempt to give Ciaran a form of reassurance and comfort that she had kissed him, even if it was on the cheek.
She had kissed him.
Dorothea's eyes widened at the memory of her actions. She had kissed him.
The only people she had kissed were her parents and family, Nonette (although that was usually against her will) and her past lovers. And Ciaran had certainly been neither of those.
But then why had she been so ready to kiss him?
But she had kissed him.
She racked her mind at the memory of that night: she had volunteered so readily to go look for him when Ciaran hadn't shown up at the muster point and she had gone all over the muster point searching for him. She remembered that had been genuinely worried for him at that time, and she felt so relieved at finding him.
So was she genuinely falling for him?
Her train of thought was interrupted as she heard a timid knock on her door.
"Come in!" She called out, regaining her composure as she stood up from the bed to look towards the opening door. Entering inside, the form of Princess Euphemia came inside of the room, her hands folded in front of her.
"Are you feeling all right, Lady Dorothea?" The young girl asked.
"Yes, I'm fine, your highness."
"Good. Good." Euphemia replied, nodding her head. "I'm looking forward to more of your lovely tea."
Dorothea let a smile come to her face at the princess' request. "I'm sure I'll be able to create something you'll enjoy, your highness."
Moving from her bed, the Knight of Four approached the young princess as Euphemia moved to stand outside the door. Entering the hallway, Dorothea closed the door softly behind her before the duo began to walk to the Euphemia's office.
The older woman was not surprised that the two walked in silence, but there was something about this silence that put her on edge. Glancing over, Dorothea could see that the princess wanted to say something, but she was hesitant to speak. Euphemia was fidgety, her thumbs playing around each other while her back was tense. She was also stealing the occasional and painfully obvious glances at the female knight's face.
"Is something wrong, your highness?"
Her question seemed to snap Euphemia in to the real world as the princess almost managed to jump out of her skin, her head snapping round to look at the woman beside her. The princess' mouth opened and closed intermittently, Euphemia attempting to stammer out a sentence.
"I... I... um..." Was all she managed to stammer out before she swallowed and turned to face Dorothea properly. "I saw how you reacted to Nonette kissing Ciaran."
This time, it was Dorothea's turn to have her eyes widen in shock and begin to bluster, as she felt her face warm up.
She knew that she couldn't deny the fact: she had reacted to Nonette kissing Ciaran, but she had hoped it had gone unnoticed. She remembered gripping her cutlery tightly, her eyes widening and her back stiffening. Granted, it had only happened for a few seconds, but it seemed that was time enough for the young princess to catch it.
"I'm not sure what you mean, your highness." Dorothea said in reply, her face a textbook example of neutrality.
"Oh, come now," Euphemia said, leaning forward with a hurt look on her face, which shifted to a friendly smile. "You know you can tell me anything."
A wave of heat came upon Dorothea's face as she looked in to the young princess' large, light purple eyes. By God, she couldn't resist that look. Good thing her oath as a Knight of the Round didn't cover giving in to cute princesses.
Glancing around, Dorothea spied a door off to the side. Motioning for Euphemia to stay where she was, she approached the door and opened it. Glancing inside, she saw that is was a small meeting room, a large table in the middle with a couch set below the large bay window. But most importantly the room was empty.
"Could we discuss that matter in here, your highness?" The Knight of Four called out as she held the door open for the princess, who quickly walked through in to the room. When she saw Euphemia sit down on the couch, Dorothea entered the room, shutting the door behind her before leaning against the entrance.
"I can trust you to keep a secret, right your highness?" The older woman said hopefully.
"Of course, Lady Dorothea." Euphemia replied with a quick nod of her head and a smile on her face. "So what's wrong?"
Pushing herself off the door, Dorothea walked forward, her hands clasped in front of her stomach. "First of all, did Captain Forsyth tell you anything about what happened on the night of the raid? Concerning me and him, I mean."
The princess put a finger to her chin as she seemed to think over the answer, before speaking. "Just that you gave him some words of encouragement."
Taking a deep breath, Dorothea prepared to speak. "While that is true, it's not the whole story. When I found him, he was quite despondent, enough to come to tears. In an attempt to cheer him up, I... I kissed him."
A sharp gasp came from the pink princess in reply as, looking up, Dorothea saw Euphemia's hands come up to her mouth, a look of surprise on her face.
"You kissed him?" The princess asked, her hands falling away from her face, to which Dorothea nodded simply in reply, before realising what she had admitted.
"It wasn't anything serious!" She said hastily. "It was... just a little peck on the cheek. I was trying to cheer him up."
"With a kiss?"
"I had already hugged him, but he was still upset. I thought that maybe a kiss would help him." A part of Dorothea's brain told her it was a reasonable thing to say, but another part noted that she was just digging herself in to a hole.
"Do you have any feelings for him though?" Euphemia asked, leaning forward with a worried look on her face.
Running her hand through her hair, a look of confusion came to Dorothea's face. "I... I don't know."
Stepping up from her seat, Euphemia padded towards the older woman before taking her free hand, drawing the Knight's attention. Looking down, Euphemia's beaming smile greeted Dorothea's eyes.
"Don't worry, Dorothea," The princess said sweetly, "I'm sure you'll discover your feelings for him." Letting go of her hand, Euphemia moved past the older woman towards the door. "I'm going to head to my office. You can take your time."
With that, the young princess walked out of the room, a happy smile on her face as she left Dorothea to stand alone in the room, her mouth working up and down slightly as she tried to form her thoughts.
Tapping his finger in a rapid staccato on the top of his desk, Lelouch looked at the numbers on the laptop on the desk beside him.
The numbers were lower than what he had hoped for.
He knew that after the hotel-jacking, the number of new recruits to the Black Knights had gone up from their original seven members well in to the double digits, but Kallen's capture had shaken them. Not enough to cause a full revolt, but several had lost faith in Zero and left.
Still, all counted, the Black Knights now stood at a respectable fifty-six souls. Nowhere near the army Lelouch wanted, but it would easily do to put his sister on edge.
But there in lay his problem. For all of their numbers, the Black Knights only had sixteen Knightmares, eighteen if you counted his custom unit and the new model from Kyoto.
Clicking on his laptop, Lelouch brought up a picture of one of his new weapons. Burai they were called, specifically the Type-10R Burai. They were a Japanese produced version of the classic Glasgow, although from the file he read over, it was better to call them refurbished versions of cannibalised Glasgows. Looking at the picture on the screen of the kneeling Knightmare frame, Lelouch could see how the Japanese had turned their opponents weapons in to their own: a drab grey colour scheme with black pauldrons and bracers on the wrists helped to differentiate it from it's parent frame, but it's torso mounted machine gun and it's head, which was made in the fanged shape of the mythical oni, the monster of Japanese legend.
He had to admit that they looked fearsome enough, and he was sure that his own unit, with it's ornate red and gold crested head, would terrify any foot soldier.
But appearances were worthless without the skill to back them up.
Out of all of his subordinates, twenty-two had the necessary skills to pilot a Knightmare, including himself. The disparity in numbers frustrated him.
He couldn't fault the Kyoto Group for the number of Knightmares they sent. From what he had heard, the Burais had originally been slated for the Japanese Liberation Front and Lelouch had a feeling that the group had more frames in storage, but since they weren't forthcoming with the rest, Lelouch knew he had to make do. To them, the Black Knights were outsiders
And then there was the issue of the custom unit, the Guren MK-II. Clicking on another window on his laptop, Lelouch brought up the picture of the Knightmare in storage. Compared to a Burai, it was sleeker, more aerodynamically designed. Looking over the picture for the Frame, Lelouch took in the details of the red armoured machine: a humped back housing the cockpit, sharp lined appendages on it's shoulders almost reminded Lelouch of a crab, while the horn on it's head reminded him of a rhino. The large, metallic right arm which ended in three brutal looking claws didn't help the similarity to the undersea crustacean, although from the information he had been given, this was a new weapon from India. One he was looking forward to seeing in use.
"Zero?" A female voice called out his name as three knock sounded from behind the closed door.
"Come in." The masked revolutionary commanded, as he shut down the laptop, having gotten all the use he could from it for now before spinning on his chair to face the opening door.
"Inoue." Zero stated simply as the young Japanese woman entered the room. The indigo haired woman was, now with the loss of Kallen, the Black Knight's sole female member. Originally a part of the group the Black Knight's had grown from, Lelouch had found that Inoue had a brilliant capacity for organization and logistical work, so he had put her to work cataloguing all of the Blank Knights weapons, hand-held and otherwise, along with their vehicles and other supplies.
"I've just finished cataloguing all the Burais and their ammunition, Zero." The woman said clinically, standing smartly within the threshold of the door.
The exiled prince nodded his head as he pushed himself from his chair. "Thank you, Inoue. Do you know where C.C. is?"
As if on cue, the head of the long green-haired immortal appeared on the other side of the door. "You called." The witch said flatly.
'She does it on purpose. I know she does.' Lelouch mentally said to himself before speaking out loud. "I need to talk with you. In private."
Inoue nodded her head at the command, exiting the room as C.C. slunk in, stealing Lelouch's seat for her own before the Britannian had a place to turn around. Hearing the sound of her sitting in his chair, Lelouch simply sighed before shutting and locking the door. Removing his mask as he turned around, the teenager fixed his companion with a glare. "Do you have to do that?"
"What did you want me for, Lelouch?" C.C. replied, using the exiled prince's given name without a care of being heard. Not that either person minded. They knew that no-one could hear them within the sound proofed office.
"How's your training with Kent and the Knightmares going?" Lelouch asked as he walked to a small cabinet set against the room's far wall.
C.C. shrugged. "It's going well. We've worked out a deal that, when I do well, he gives me pizza."
Lelouch 'hmm-ed' in reply, a ghost of a smile gracing his face at Kent's intelligent use of pizza. Setting his mask down on a small table, he opened the cabinet. "I'm sure you've seen the Knightmares we've been given by the Six Houses of Kyoto."
"Indeed. They're impressive looking machines, especially that red one. Although I'd have preferred pink personally."
The teenage terrorist didn't say anything in reply as he took a small, metal nondescript box down from a shelf inside the cabinet. On the surface of the black metal lid was the symbol of the Black Knights, a stylized origami crane in silver. Turning around, he fixed C.C. with a cold look.
"I'm planning on leading the attack on the prison."
"Suicide." C.C. said distastefully.
"If this mission fails, then yes. That's why I need you, C.C."
Lelouch was certain he would remember the look of surprise that came over C.C.'s face at his words, so he decided to take it further with her stunned silence.
"With Kallen's loss, I am a king without a queen. You said you can't have me dying, so if I am to go in to battle, then you'll have to come with me. I need someone to watch my back and, at the moment, there's no-one I trust to do that more than you."
Opening the box, he extended his arms towards C.C. Stepping from her seat, the green-haired immortal peered inside the box. Nestled in a foam interior, was an activation key.
"C.C., I'm trusting you to pilot the Guren."
Reaching inside, the immortal witch pulled out the small piece of plastic before letting it rest in the palm of her hand. She looked at it like it was the most common thing in the world before raising her eyes to look at Lelouch, a mischievous glint passing for half a second.
"You know, if you liked me, you'd give me jewellery." C.C. purred out.
Instantly, Lelouch felt his face redden as anger began to take hold, but he didn't say anything as the woman before him hooked her finger through the keyring and began spinning it around, a small smile on her face.
"But don't worry. I won't have you dying on my watch. You still have yet to fulfil our contract."
Letting the key spin to rest against her palm, C.C. closed her fist before moving towards the door. Lelouch felt his anger fade away as the fact that the final piece of his plan fell in to place.
Picking up his helmet, he stared in to the reflective visor as he though on the coming battle. Holding it above him, he let the light catch the mask as he decided to paraphrase Shakespeare.
"Woe betide the man that raises his hand against me, he shall be quartered with the hands of War."
"I am still here, you know." C.C. said flatly.
"Achoo!"
Inside the Gloucester cockpit, Ciaran tried but failed to fight the sneeze that came upon him, the sound reverberating round the metal structure. Momentarily, his eyes were taken off the main view-screen, but a moment was all his opponent needed.
"Keep on your toes, Ciaran!" Darlton growled out, causing the young man's head to snap up as he saw the bright gold lance of the general's personal Gloucester quickly fill the main screen. Yanking on his control sticks, Ciaran rolled to the side, dodging the oncoming weapon as he brought up his own lance to batter it aside.
Seizing the initiative, Ciaran's Gloucester raced forward, lance held ready to spear his opponent. With contemptuous ease, Darlton rolled his machine to the side before pushing forward with his right arm. The screeching sound of tortured metal filled the large space as the general's lance speared right through the head of Ciaran's unit, tearing the mechanism right off in a small shower of sparks.
"And that's the match." Darlton said happily as he moved his lance to the recovery position, the purple machine standing up right as his opposing number slumped forward slightly, technical crews rushing forward to repair the damaged machine.
Clambering out from cockpit, Ciaran gave a small nod to the tech crewman who waited on the main gangway before moving to the ladder, gripping it and sliding down the rails like he had seen naval personnel do in movies. Touching the floor, he rolled his shoulders as the orange uniformed form of Derek came towards him, the blonde haired man shaking his head.
"Do you enjoy making my job difficult, Captain?"
The young man couldn't help but chuckle at the remark.
"Come on, Derek. You know you can fix it up."
The Britannian didn't say anything as he looked up at the injured unit and the shredded remains of the head.
"I can't tell from here, but the neck looks like it was a clean hit, so I can probably just put on a new head."
"How long will that take?"
Derek shrugged. "Probably an hour. Hour and a half, tops."
Ciaran nodded as he saw Darlton's form materialize from behind a bank of spare parts, the general crossing his arms across his large chest as he motioned for the young man to join him. Taking a step forward, Ciaran gave the engineer a quick pat on his shoulder before walking past him.
"I know you'll get it done, Derek." He called out behind him as he moved to join General Darlton. Nearing the older man, he saw the concerned look on the man's face.
"You were doing well, Ciaran. What happened back there?"
Ciaran shrugged. "I sneezed, sir."
A puzzled look crossed Darlton's face before he let his head drop with a chuckle, before sighing. "Oh, if it was anyone else, I'd say you were lying."
The young man's mouth fell open as a confused look came to his face, unsure of how to reply to the general's comments. A burst of static from the large intercom system interrupted any thought Ciaran had as a reply, as a female voice filled the space of the garage.
"General Darlton, Captain Forsyth. Your presence is requested in the Viceroy's office immediately. General Darlton, Captain Forsyth. Your presence is requested in the Viceroy's office."
Looking up at one of the speakers set towards the wall of the garage, Darlton let another puzzled look come to his face. "Now what's that about?"
"Guess we'll need to go and find out." The young man said as the duo quickly made their way to the exit of the garage. Making their way to the elevator quickly, Ciaran pressed the button to call the lift.
"Shouldn't we change out of our pilot suits?" The young man noted, looking down at his drab green one piece uniform.
"Do you want to keep Cornelia waiting?" Darlton asked with an upraised eyebrow, Ciaran nodding, quietly afraid at stirring the Princess' anger as the lift arrived. Bustling inside, Darlton pressed an express button for the elevator to reach the level of the Viceroy's office. In just over half a minute, the duo exited in to the hallway outside Princess Cornelia's office.
Reaching the entrance, Darlton knocked before pushing open the door, Ciaran trailing behind him to close the doors. Sitting at her desk, Cornelia had the same smile she wore at Saitama, making Ciaran swallow in trepidation as he and Darlton came to stand before her desk. To her side, Guilford stood as impassive as a statue as ever.
"Thank you for coming on such short notice, gentlemen." Cornelia said, her disarming tone not matching her smile in anyway. "I've got some interesting news for you two. Here, take a look."
Reaching forward, the princess spread about half a dozen photos across the front of her desk. Looking at the photos, Ciaran saw what appeared to be a convoy of large trucks, about five in all, each carrying a large shipping container on the back. Judging from the angle of the photo, he assumed that it was taken by a speeding camera.
"They're not military..." Ciaran muttered to himself.
"Traffic cameras caught them coming out of Kyoto on Route One before moving on to Route Eight, along the coast." Cornelia said, not hearing the young man's observation. "That was at nine in the morning, no less than two hours ago."
"Your highness, you might need to explain something because I fail to see what you're driving at." Ciaran admitted, while Darlton picked up several of the photos to get a better look at them.
Reaching beside her, Cornelia took out another photo before handing it to the young officer. Taking it, Ciaran noted that, even though the quality was more grainy, he could just make out a similar vehicle. The container on the back wasn't as long as the vehicles in the convoy, but the truck was close enough to the same model as the others.
"That was taken on the night of the raid in Kitakyushu by an aerial reconnaissance drone." Cornelia said, crossing her legs. "Notice anything?"
"The trucks are the same make." Ciaran said, looking up from the photos.
"Any clue where they're heading to, your highness?" Darlton asked, cottoning on to the idea as well.
"Guilford?" Cornelia asked to her loyal knight, who coughed quietly in to his hands before speaking.
"If we assume that these trucks do indeed belong to the Black Knights, then I think it's safe to assume that they're heading to rescue their comrade we apprehended in Kitakyushu..."
Darlton chuckled softly. "So they're heading to the Nagano Military Prison then."
Cornelia nodded, uncrossing her legs as she leant forward. "General Darlton, I trust you have no objections in letting Lord Guilford lead this operation?"
A large grin came to the scarred general's face at the suggestion. "None whatsoever, your highness. I think it's about time Gil pulled his weight around here."
Guilford didn't say anything in reply, except to give a little snort of derision and a roll of his eyes. Cornelia gave a small nod before addressing the general again. "I feel that I need to address this question to you, General, but how is Captain Forsyth progressing with his Knightmare training?"
Looking up, Ciaran shared the contemplative look with Darlton before the older man spoke to the Princess. "Considering who his first training partner was, he's definitely advanced."
Shifting her gaze, Cornelia fixed her eyes on Ciaran. "I know this might be crass of me considering you're supposed to be on holiday, but I have to ask, Ciaran: do you think you'll be able to take part in this mission?"
The room fell silent as both men turned to look at the young captain. His eyes were focused on the photo of the convoy in his hands. Looking at the cabin of the truck, he stared at the windscreen: it was blacked out, making it impossible to see the driver. But something nagged at him as he looked at the vehicle.
"I screwed up once already with Zero," he said, his tone stronger than he intended it to be. "But if that sod is going to be there, then it's only right I'm there too."
Cornelia nodded with a smile. "Good. You and Lord Guilford will both command on the ground, but you'll be in charge of the Purist Faction."
"The Purist Faction?" Ciaran asked.
"I'm not sure that's a good idea, your highness." Guilford asked, moving forward. "The Purebloods detest anyone who's not Britannian and to put someone like the Captain in charge..."
"The Purebloods are the reason we're here, Gil." Darlton intoned, something close to a sneer on his lips. "Putting Ciaran in command will show them that it's the Princess who is in charge, not them."
Cornelia nodded her head before Darlton spoke up again. "Although we do have a slight problem. Ciaran's Gloucester needs to be repaired and even if we use the aerial transports, the Black Knights will still have a head-start on us."
"He can use one of the spares." Cornelia said quickly. "Guilford, I suggest you get changed in to your pilot suit. Ciaran, you can head to the garage and get in to your new Gloucester. We'll be leaving when you're both ready."
With a nod of his head, Darlton patted the young man on his shoulder to tell him to follow as they exited the office. When they were outside, Darlton pinched the bridge of his nose before sighing.
"You know that you are allowed to say 'no', right?"
Ciaran shrugged before speaking. "I know, sir. But that bastard slipped through my fingers last time and I won't let it happen again."
Darlton nodded with a roll of his eyes. "You might fit in with the Purists after all. Go on, lad. Get to your frame."
Ciaran nodded as he started moving towards the elevator before Darlton called out to him. "And don't do anything stupid. If you mess up, it's my head for the chop!"
The young man gave a short bark of laughter at the general's words as he pressed the button to descend.
Drumming her fingers on her knees, Villetta Nu was as impatient as the rest of the men around her. She, along with the rest of the Purist Faction, had been called by Viceroy Cornelia's second-in-command, General Darlton, for a mission. But as they all sat in the belly of a G-1 base, the silver-haired woman, sitting in her regal looking pilot suit, began to wonder what was awaiting them as she stared at the blank screen before her. Around her were the remnants of the Purist Faction, totalling nine individuals, all talking to themselves. That was what remained after Princess Cornelia's 'cull', for lack of a better term. The lucky ones had been sent back to the Homeland, while the rest had apparently ended up in Euro Britannia.
"Any word on Lord Jeremiah?" She asked her neighbour, the hazel-haired Kewell Soresi. The man gave her an angry sideways glance before giving a small snort of derision.
"How should I know where Orange is?" The man said testily, his eyes turning back to face the screen in front of them. Looking to her side, she looked at the two vacant chairs to her right. She knew the immediate chair was for Jeremiah, but had no idea who the second one was for. Across from her, she could see the Knightmare pilots of the Royal Panzer Infantry brought over by Cornelia, a similar number of officers all talking amongst themselves.
A minor hush fell over the room as one of the side doors opened and many pairs of eyes turned to look upon the new arrival. Turning, Villetta let a small smile come to her face at the sight of Jeremiah Gottwald walking down towards his seat, dressed in his own pilot suit. The tall, turquoise haired man looked haggard, but then again, he had been that way ever since the incident with Kururugi and Zero. She knew that Jeremiah still carried himself with the same air that was expected of him as a noble, but she still worried about him.
Drawing near, Jeremiah took his place next to Villetta. Leaning sideways, she gave her friend a small smile before whispering to him. "You've not missed anything."
"Good." The man said, before turning his head to the side to talk to the man on the other side of Villetta. "Kewell."
The light brown-haired man didn't look at the new arrival. "Jeremiah."
Villetta could almost hear Jeremiah's teeth grind in annoyance and she shared his feelings. She had known him for six years, ever since their arrival in Area 11, and for all that time, Villetta had known him to be an insufferable person. A competent Knightmare pilot and as unremitting in their cause as any member of the Purist Faction, but there were many times that she had detested the man. And the attempt on Jeremiah's life was the last straw for any shred of respect that she had had for the man.
The noise of an opening door drew everyone's attention as a member of the Royal Guard stepped in, standing to one side of the door as he snapped to attention.
"Attention!" He called out, as all present in the room quickly stood to their feet, boots slamming together as they stood ready for orders. Entering through the door, Villetta recognised Lord Guilford, Cornelia's personal Knight. She had never seen the lord in his usual attire, so it was a surprise to see the man in his pilot suit, a combination of dark maroon, black and gold.
Although what was more surprising to the noblewoman was the figure that followed the bespectacled knight. He was shorter than Lord Guilford by a full head, and younger too, with a head of curly, dark brown hair and the makings of a beard. A bright red scar stood out on his right cheek, while his drab green pilot suit she had never seen before made Villetta wonder who he could be as the new individual took his place against the rear wall by the screen.
"Be seated." Lord Guilford said before waiting for everyone present to sit down in their chairs. Seeing them take their places, the nobleman began to speak. "As I'm sure that there are those of you who are wondering why you have been called here, so I shall keep this brief. We have received intelligence that armed terrorists are heading towards the Nagano Military Prison. We heavily suspect them to be the Black Knights."
At that announcement, everyone in the room became charged with energy, several people muttering angrily to each other. Looking down, Villetta saw Jeremiah's fists clench in anger. She could feel her own blood rise at the mention of the group.
Ignoring the commotion, Guilford continued speaking. "As such, the Viceroy has placed upon us the responsibility to make sure that the Black Knights are defeated."
A small cheer came up from the ranks of both the Purists and the Royal Panzers at the Knight's words, which he quickly silenced by waving them down. Villetta however was more curious than excited, raising her hand to catch Lord Guilford's sight. The man motioned for the woman to speak by nodding his head.
"My lord, do we know the reason as to why the Black Knights are making for the prison?"
To everyone's surprise, it was the young man in green who answered her question. "We have a high value individual who was taken captive during our raid in Kitakyushu two nights ago. They are being held in that prison."
"Indeed, Captain." Guilford said with a nod before addressing the room again. "Gentlemen, ma'am, allow me to introduce Captain Ciaran Forsyth of Her Highness' Royal Guard. It was due in no small part to his efforts at Kitakyushu that this high value individual was captured."
Villetta saw that the young man was about to say something but was interrupted as Lord Guilford continued speaking. "It is also by the Viceroy's command that Captain Forsyth be put in secondary command of this operation and as such he shall be in command of the Purist Faction. Captain, if you will take your seat."
The Knight motioned to the vacant seat next to Jeremiah, which Ciaran moved to with a small nod of his head as thanks as he moved towards the vacant seat. Sitting down, he gave a small nod to the two people seated beside him.
"M' lord. M' lady."
Both Villetta and Jeremiah replied with a nod of their own as they turned their attention back to Lord Guilford. However, Kewell decided to lean forward, his eyes filled with hostile intent as he fixed them on the Captain.
"I've seen many of the Royal Guards in my time, and I've never seen you before."
"Kewell, please let Lord Guilford continue." Jeremiah said, shutting his eyes in annoyance.
"Well, I did only arrive here a month ago, my lord." Captain Forsyth said amicably, a small smile on his face.
"Where from? The Homeland? Area 2?" Another Purist sitting on the other side of Kewell asked, a black-haired man, leaning to get a better view of the young officer.
"I'm surprised that you haven't guessed already, Lord Kewell," Guilford spoke up, drawing the man's attention. "I do think it should be quite obvious to tell by the Captain's accent that he is from the British Isles."
A flurry of cries came out from the Purists, with Villetta and Jeremiah staring at the young man with wide eyes who, in return, just cocked an eyebrow at them.
"I'd have thought it would be quite obvious." He said said in reply, not caring for the shocked looks directed at him.
"Indeed. Now if we can continue-" Cornelia's Knight began before he was interrupted again by Kewell.
"Now, wait a minute!" He called out, surging to his feet, his hand's tightened in fists. "Lord Guilford, with all due respect, are you telling us that we are to be led by this... this...?"
"Mongrel?" Ciaran chimed in, a raising his eyebrows as a smile came to his face which did little to assuage Kewell's fury.
Closing his eyes, Villetta saw Lord Guilford take in a breath, exhaling quietly before fixing Kewell with a cold stare. "What I expect you to do, Lord Kewell, is to sit down, be quiet and listen to orders. Like the good soldier you claim to be, or I shall have you removed from this operation and have you reassigned to somewhere less forgiving."
Villetta was taken aback by the quiet fury in the pony-tailed Knight's voice as he stared Kewell down, who slowly lowered himself to his seat. Lord Guilford wasn't done talking however as he continued staring down the hazel-haired Purist.
"Whether he is a Britannian or a Briton, Captain Forsyth has proved himself more than capable in the eyes of Princess Cornelia, her staff and myself. And need I remind you, all of you, who dare question the choice of Her Highness, that Captain Forsyth is a member of the Royal Guard, so any slight against him, is a slight against Princess Cornelia and the Emperor himself."
An uncomfortable silence fell on the room, as the members of the Purist Faction who had any lingering doubts shuffled on their seats like chastised school children. Even Villetta, who had her own misgivings fell silent in the face of Lord Guilford's quiet fury. To her side, she saw Jeremiah bristle with quiet anger, but she was surprised to see a thin, wry smile on him closed lips.
"Lord Guilford," Captain Forsyth spoke up, his voice taking on a professional tone as he leant forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "I do thank you, but at the risk of being rude, we are loosing daylight."
Nodding his head, Lord Guilford's expression became more businesslike as he spoke. "Yes, thank you, Captain. As he said, time is short, so I shall keep this brief. Lights."
At the Knight's command, the lights in the room went down and the screen came to life in a harsh white light, showing a map of the Nagano Military Prison and the surrounding area. Over the next few minutes, Lord Guilford went over the plan: leading the Royal Panzer Infantry, led by the Knight, would act as the main attacking force in the centre of the prison while Captain Forsyth and the Purists would act as a blocking force, keeping the Black Knights from escaping once they were engaged and, if necessary, be the blade that would sever the head of the snake.
Villetta didn't pay much attention to the plan, as she knew it would rely heavily on the cohesion between Lord Guilford and the Captain, but she still bristled for action anyway. Ever since the 'Orange' Incident, she and all the other Purists had be relegated to rear-echelon status or, as was the case of the skirmish in Saitama, shunted to reserve. Even if this mission did not mean they would finally be on the front-line.
The lights coming back on and the screen dimming was the indication that the talk was over. Straightening his back, Lord Guilford put his hands behind him as he addressed the room.
"I say this to you all: this mission is of vital importance. If we succeed here today, then we can put an end to this accursed rebellion once and for all. Because of that, Princess Cornelia has her eyes personally trained on this mission, so do not disappoint her. The eyes of Britannia herself are upon you!"
"All hail Britannia!" One of the Panzer Infantry roared, surging to his feet, his fist held over his heart as his compatriots stood to join his cry. Not to be outdone, all the Purists, including Villetta and Jeremiah stood, their fists held over their heart in salute as they echoed the cry. "All hail Britannia!"
Neither Lord Guilford nor Captain Forsyth made a move to copy their actions as the Knight spoke again. "Good. Now go to your staging areas and get ready."
Following Jeremiah, Villetta made for the exit to the garage where their Sutherlands waited, while the rest of the Purists began talking excitedly among themselves, the Royal Panzer Infantrymen doing the same as their opposite number. Looking back, she saw the young man in green get out of his chair to stand near Lord Guilford, gesturing at the map as he began having a conversation that was masked by the commotion in the room.
Entering in to a hallway, Villetta drew parallel to her friend as he began muttering. "First we get treated like the common soldiers, now we get given a bloody outsider as a commander. It's just insult upon insult."
The silver-haired woman could only give a nod in reply as they neared the loading bay, their resting Sutherlands in sight, the purple and red armoured machines ready to be loaded on to their aerial transports.
"At least we have the chance to be on the front-line this time." Villetta said, causing Jeremiah to stop and turn to face her. The nobleman's orange eyes still burned with anger, but only for a brief moment before his eyes softened in to something more friendly.
"Indeed, Villetta. I guess we can both take solace in that." The man said with a smile, which made Villetta smile herself.
"Lord Jeremiah!" A voice called out behind them, making both Knight's turn around. Behind them, they saw the green uniformed Captain walking towards them. The square set of his shoulders, the measured pace of his steps and the way he swung his arms in small arcs told Villetta that this man definitely had to be a military man.
"Captain." Jeremiah growled back as the young man drew close to the pair. Up close, Villetta tried to suppress the small smile she got from the fact that the Captain was nearly a full head smaller than Jeremiah.
"My lord." The Captain said, with a small bow of his head before glancing at the woman beside him before turning back to face the man before him. "Lady Villetta. I understand that me being in command of you and your compatriots has caused some... turmoil, shall we say, among your group."
"That's putting it mildly." Villetta muttered, loud enough for the Captain to hear, but he didn't seem to be bothered, his face holding a blank expression.
"Be that as it may, I shall be frank with this: I don't rightly care."
Both Jeremiah and Villetta were taken aback by the young man's words to interrupt him.
"I've been placed in secondary command of this operation by Princess Cornelia herself, and I intend to carry out that order as any good soldier would. I'm sure you understand, my Lord. You don't like me, and to be honest, my first impression of you and your group is not overly positive. But as I said, I don't care. We have a job to do, so let's get it done."
Jeremiah could only nod in reply, the young man's words touching his sense of duty.
"Now. Since we agree to that, I hope that we can put that earlier unpleasantness behind us. Fair?"
Villetta looked at the turquoise-haired knight, unsure of what his reaction to be.
"Fair enough." Jeremiah said a small nod of his head, which caught Villetta by surprise before she resigned herself to agreeing with the Captain's words. They were soldiers and they had a duty to fulfil.
"Captain Forsyth," Villetta spoke up, drawing the young officer's attention. "Allow me to apologise for Lord Kewell's behaviour. He can be a bit of a..." She trailed off as she was unable to find the right word to use.
"A bit of an arse?" The Captain asked, cocking his eyebrows. Both Purists were taken aback by his words, but Jeremiah quickly cracked a smile and chuckled at the man's choice of words.
"Ha! That's putting it lightly, Captain." Jeremiah replied, crossing his arms across his chest as he shook his head in bemusement.
A short burst of static from a unseen speaker drew the trios attention as Lord Guilford's voice came through. "Now hear this: all forces for the Nagano Offensive, we are moving out in two minutes. I repeat, we are moving out in two minutes."
Intent of hearing Guilford's words, neither Villetta or Jeremiah saw the young Captain move through the gap between them, making his way to his own Knightmare. So it was to their surprise that they heard the man call back out to them.
"Come on, you two. Let's go earn our pay-checks!"
Seeing the man walk off, Villetta couldn't help but smile as she saw Jeremiah shake his head with a smile. "I may not like him, but this could be fun."
Villetta replied with a nod before moving to her own Knightmare, Jeremiah moving with her to his frame parked nearby.
With a tumultuous roar, a single Lockheed C-150 transport aircraft climbed in to the sky, leaving the Tokyo Settlement behind as its gull-wing shaped wings cut through the early afternoon sky, white contrails flowing behind the tips of the wings.
Inside the body of the large aircraft, twenty Knightmare frames, eighteen Sutherlands led by two Gloucesters knelt in two rows. The former carried a mixture of assault rifles and anti-Knightmare rocket propelled grenades, while in the front, the Gloucesters carried an assault rifle and lance each. The pose of the Gloucesters matched their namesakes as Knights, their lances held upright while they knelt with heads bowed.
Inside his Gloucester, Ciaran looked over the small screen showing his squad-mate's status. Nine Knights, all ready and waiting for action. He was right that the racial beliefs of the Purebloods didn't bother him. His world or this one, there would always be people who considered one race or group superior to the others. It was inevitable. Although to see it manifest in such a way was staggering to him.
"Captain, are you ready?" Guilford's voice came through, the Knight's visage appearing in a small box on the main screen of his Gloucester.
"Aye, my lord. Just taking stock of this whole situation." He admitted as he leaned back in his cockpit, as Cornelia's Knight nodded.
"You're here now, and that's all there is to it," Guilford said sympathetically. "I trust that you aren't too bothered by the words of Lord Kewell and his... cronies."
Ciaran couldn't help but chuckle at the choice of words. "Not at all, my lord. It doesn't matter anyway. As soon as we hit the ground, all that's out of the window."
"Indeed, Captain. Combat does well at focusing the mind." Guilford agreed. "Try and get some rest. We'll be arriving in half an hour. And best of luck."
"Aye, my lord. Same to you." Ciaran replied as he saw Guilford's face blink, leaving him looking at the inside of the loading ramp, the dark interior of the transport staring back at him. Leaning his head to rest fully back on the headrest of his chair, the young Briton's mind thought back to a line from Shakespeare, to his favourite play.
"Once more unto the breach, dear friends. Once more unto the breach. Or close the wall up with our English dead."
AN: And here is chapter 13! I will be honest, the further this story deviates from the canon, the harder it gets to write. But that's not a bad thing.
Thanks go to A D Fields again for helping me with chapter.
I did intend for their to be a large fight in this chapter, as I'm sure many of you might have guessed from reading, but my own imposed limit on chapter length worked against me. But I'm pleased with how it came out. Apart from that, I'm not going to say much else.
However, these is something I do need to say: additional thanks go to mrthischarmingman2 for creating... a page for my OC on the Code Geass Fanon Wiki! As you can tell, I'm quite happy since... well, I never imagined anyone writing a wikipage for any thing I've done. Just type in Ciaran Forsyth on the main page and you'll find it.
So again: read, enjoy, review and if you want to talk about the chapter or other things to do with A Brave New World, just shoot me a PM.