The days following the skirmish at the prison went back in to something close to normality. Ciaran fell in to a haphazard routine, alternating between visits to the garage to train with Darlton, trips in to the settlement by himself or just generally lounging around the Viceroy's Palace. Well, to call it lounging would not be the right term for it, as he spent most of his time in the Palace's large library. travelling between Euphemia's and Cornelia's offices, chatting amicably with the two princesses, or training with Darlton in the garage.

It was midday, on a rather pleasant Thursday in mid July, that Ciaran, dressed in a modest black t-shirt and workout shorts, was in the palace's gym. Technically, it was the Viceroy's private gym, but Cornelia decided that the gym would be allowed to be used by her inner circle, along with the two visiting Knights of the Round.

"My brother only ever used the jacuzzi. Might as well make sure the rest of the equipment works." The Second Princess said, settling the matter.

Working on one of the elliptical machines, the young man felt the layer of sweat cover his body as he neared the end of his twenty minute workout on the machine. Looking at the large floor to ceiling mirror in front of him, Ciaran saw the room stretching back behind him, more than forty yards back and more than fifty yards to his sides. The majority of the space of the room was taken up by an oval-shaped running track, three lanes wide, while the rest of the space was filled by myriad of exercise devices: elliptical machines, treadmills, weight-sets, indoor rowing machines, punching bags. There were even a few old school medicine balls and the machines that looked like a power sander with an oversized belt.

Running down on his exercise, Ciaran reached up and took the bottle of energy drink from its holder before bringing the plastic to his lips and taking a quick swig. As he let the liquid slide down his throat, he heard the door to the gym open. At the sight of who was entering, the young man couldn't fight his hand going slack, the bottle slipping from his grasp to fall to the floor.

Entering through the door, the young man saw Lady Dorothea walking in to the gym. Instead of her more regal white outfit, the Lady Knight of Four was dressed in a more casual work outfit: a white and blue sleeveless sports top which showed off her bare midriff while a pair of black, three-quarter length shorts. Her outfit was completed by a pair of blue and white trainers on her feet and around her neck, she carried a pure white towel.

"Lady Dorothea!" He called out, leaning off the machine to grasp the bottle that had fallen on to the floor. At the sound of her name being called, Dorothea turned and smiled at the young man before walking towards him.

"Ciaran, hello." She said, amicably nodding her head as she came to stand near him. "I didn't know you were here."

"I've been here for the best part of an hour, my lady." Stepping off the elliptical machine and moving to stand near the Knight, Ciaran couldn't help but let his eyes roam over her body, although he did his best to do it inconspicuously and quickly. Now that he could see under her clothes, he saw that her arms and legs were discreetly muscled, while on her stomach he could clearly see defined abdominal muscles. Catching himself, he raised his eyes to look Dorothea in the eyes. He wasn't sure if she noted his wandering eyes, but if she did, she didn't let on.

"Yeah, it turns out that exercising a Knightmare really only works on the fingers and wrists. So I just came down here to tone myself up a bit." He said, trying to get the conversation going. Ciaran didn't want to brag, but he had admit that since coming to this world, he had certainly gotten fitter. His training with Darlton had made him become leaner, while his muscles in his arms and legs had gotten more defined. The end result wasn't anything to write home about, but he was happy.

A small, mirthful smile crept on to Dorothea's face though as she took in Ciaran's words. "You're not trying to match up with Andreas are you, Ciaran?"

Reeling back in shock, the young man began blustering before laughing at the mental image of himself with the scarred general's physique. "If I grew another foot, maybe. But I don't see it happening, my lady. Wait. Andreas?"

The smile fell from Dorothea's face to be replaced by a look of confusion. "Yes. That is his name. Didn't you know that?"

Thinking back on his meeting with the general where they introduced themselves on more cordial terms, Ciaran remembered that, indeed, the general's first name was Andreas. "He did say his name was Andreas when we first met, but I never heard anyone else call him that, so I just forgot about it."

Dorothea shrugged in reply as she began walking towards one of the treadmills. "I don't blame you for not remembering it. He doesn't really like people calling him by his first name. As far as I know, there's only two people he's fine with calling him by his first name."

"And who would they be, my lady?" Ciaran asked as he followed behind the woman, stopping in front of her selected machine as the Knight of Four climbed on to the treadmill.

"Princess Cornelia and myself."

The young man nodded in reply as Dorothea tapped a sequence on to the pad in front of her which started her on to a walk then a quick jog. Ciaran quickly turned away to avoid watching the woman working out. His throat felt unnaturally dry, so he took another swig from his bottle. As he swallowed the liquid, he remembered a thought that had been nagging at him for a while.

"Lady Dorothea." He turned to face the woman, who looked at him quizzically as she jogged on the spot. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course. What's on your mind?" Dorothea asked in reply as she slowed the treadmill and her pace down to a quick walk, at the same time as Ciaran leant forward to lean against the front of the machine.

"Why don't you and others give me... give me crap for not being Britannian?" He wasn't sure that what he said was proper considering the rank of the woman in front of him, but he couldn't think of what else to say to convey the message.

Dorothea pressed the button to stop the machine all together before she put her hands on the handles and leant forward slightly. Ciaran couldn't help but swallow at the stern look she gave him.

"Is this because of the Purists?" She asked flatly, to which Ciaran nodded. At the admission, Dorothea ran her hand through her hair and sighed in exasperation before she gave the young man a sympathetic look. "I don't agree with their ideas, to be honest. I will admit that we, Britannians I mean, can be a bit hard on others if they don't prove their worth. But if someone like you proves themselves, then I for one would gladly stand alongside them."

The dark-haired man nodded in understanding, taking another swig from his bottle as Dorothea continued speaking.

"Although if you think that I should give you grief for being British, not Britannian, then don't. As I said at Kitakyushu, Andreas thinks highly of you, as do the Princesses, Guilford and Nonette, so I do too."

The last part of her sentence was punctuated by Dorothea reaching forward and rubbing Ciaran's head softly, making the young man playfully swat her hand away as a smile came to his face.

"Hey, hey, hey. I'm not a dog, my lady." Smoothing down his hair, or trying to considering it's naturally curly state, Ciaran tried to fight the blush that came to his face. "But thank you. That makes me feel better."

"Oh, call me 'Dorothea', Ciaran. I call you by your first name, it's only fair you respond in kind." The Lady Knight of Four said as she pressed the pad in front of her to start the treadmill in to life. "Care to join me for a little run?"

Looking around at the clock placed on the wall, Ciaran shrugged. "Yeah, why not. Nothing wrong with a late lunch."

Shooting a quick smile at his companion, he climbed aboard an adjacent treadmill. After placing his bottle in it's holster, he punched in his preferred speed and angle and slowly began to jog.

Standing in the war-room in the Viceroy's Palace, Ciaran shifted slightly from foot to foot as he wore his deep maroon, royal guardsman's uniform again. It had only been a month, but he had already worn it enough times for it to become something close to a second skin, and being back in it after wearing plain clothes for a week took some getting used to.

All around him, the room bustled with activity as various staff officers and Royal Guardsmen stood in small groups, chatting to each other, about fifteen in all. They, along with Ciaran, had been told to come to the meeting room by Lord Guilford at Cornelia's orders.

"How are you feeling?" Guilford said, catching the young man by surprise as the bespectacled knight came towards him, a can of cola held in one hand while he held a cup of tea in the other, offering the former to Ciaran as he came nearer.

"Just getting back in to the flow of things, my lord." He said, taking the offered can and opening it. Bringing the drink up to his lips, he stole a glance around the room. A small smile came to his lips as he looked at the space from his vantage point against the side wall near the door: large with a round table in the middle. It was the same room that Ciaran first came to, only this time he hadn't been dragged in under armed guard. "I just remembered that this is the same room that I met you, Darlton and the Princess in."

"Yes. Indeed it is." Guilford agreed, looking around the room, making sure no-one else was capable of over-hearing their conversation. "That was an interesting day, no?"

Ciaran chuckled at the remark. "That's a mild way of putting it. I was certain I was close to wetting myself. Especially when I first saw Darlton."

Cornelia's Knight began chuckling at the image. "Dear lord, that would certainly have made that situation much more interesting."

The young man nodded his head as he took another drink from his can. The smile soon faded from his face as a thought crept in to his mind. "Lord Guilford, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, Captain. What's on your mind?" The Knight replied, the joviality leaving his voice when he saw the look on Ciaran's face.

"What would have happened to me if the Princess didn't believe me?"

A contemplative look came to Guilford's face, before sighing and leaning against the wall next to Ciaran. "You know your little... meeting with the old members of Prince Clovis' royal guard?"

"Bloody hell. How could I forget?"

"Well," Guilford continued. "You would have been subjected to something like that. But several times worse. And longer. And Her Highness would have very likely participated too."

The colour drained from Ciaran's face at the mental image of Cornelia subjecting him to a torture worse than what he had been subjected to when he first arrived in Area 11.

"And... and would the Princess have...?" He let the rest of his question hang in the air as he looked at Guilford with fearful eyes.

"Enjoyed it? No, I don't think so. She's never been one to enjoy the act." Guilford took a drink from his own cup, looking at the centre of the room. Glancing to the side, the Knight saw the state of fear and shock that Ciaran was in, so he quickly decided to put the young man's mind at ease.

"If it's any consolation, Ciaran, I highly doubt that Her Highness wouldn't have believed what you'd have said. And then of course, there's General Darlton..."

"What do you mean?" Ciaran asked, snapping his head up to look at the Knight, a look of hope in his eyes.

"He's never told you what his reaction was to seeing what you went through?" When the young man shook his head 'no', Guilford let a soft smile come to his face. "I thought that Darlton was going to leap right through the window and beat those two men himself."

Surprise took over Ciaran's face. "He would seriously have done that?"

Guilford nodded. "Indeed. Plus, even if he was the only one of us three to have met you, I think you'd still find yourself in the position you're in now. He's never one to abandon someone in trouble. I'm certain he'd have taken you under his wing in some way or another."

The revelation brought a sense of confusion to Ciaran's mind. He knew that Darlton had cared for him in a way when he had arrived, but he had no idea to the extent at which Guilford hinted at. Taking another sip from his can, the young man's eyes opened wide as Cornelia's Knight continued speaking.

"Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if he considered adopting you."

As the word 'adopting' left the older man's lips, Ciaran couldn't stop his cola from going down his windpipe instead of oesophagus, making him gag on the drink and nearly double over. At his action, Guilford quickly reached over and began patting him on the back, chuckling as he did so. The closest officers to the room looked at the duo in confusion before the sound of the opening door drew their attention as Princess Cornelia entered the room.

"Ah-ttention!" Darlton's deep baritone rolled out, making everyone in the room snap to attention, even Ciaran as he managed to wipe away the tears that come to his eyes from the last bits of his coughing fit. Moving away from his standing point, the young man moved around the groups of officers to get a better view of the large table in the centre of the room, Guilford walking beside him before leaving him as the Knight moved to stand near his Princess.

Standing behind the table, directly in front of the door, both Cornelia and Darlton stood in their customary outfits, the Princess' large white cloak nearly making her as tall as the scarred general. But it was the man standing near Darlton that drew Ciaran's attention: he was as tall as the other general, but thinner and older, with a round face, grey streaked hair and bright blue eyes. The man's uniform told Ciaran that he was a general, but he had never seen him before.

"Gentlemen," The Princess spoke up, all eyes falling on to her as she put her across her chest. "I have gathered you here all today because the time has come. We will put an end to the rebellion in Area 11 once and for all."

A charge of excitement when through the room at the news, while Cornelia continued speaking, unfazed by the joy her words caused. "Through our intelligence agents, we have finally ascertained the base of the Japanese Liberation Front, the last remnants of the now defunct Japanese military. General Darlton?"

Stepping forward, the large officer pressed a panel that Ciaran couldn't see and a large holographic display covered the top of the table. The light green, wire-frame of light shook for a few seconds as the image tried to load, before it revealed a topographical map of a mountain surrounded by several lower lying mountains and a small city at the base of the larger mountain.

"Narita." Darlton stated, resting his knuckles on the rim of the table as the officers assembled came closer to the table to get a better view of the display. "We've had suspicions for a while now that this is where the JLF have their base of operations for some time now, but we've been unable to verify those suspicions. Until now."

Pressing an unseen button, the largest of the mountains became tinged with red with a small wave radiating from the centre of the image. "Through thermal imaging and intelligence from on the ground, we have pin-pointed their base of operations to be the central mountain. We have little clue on the strength of the forces in the mountain, but we can assume that the mountain holds the entirety of the JLF's forces."

Another buzz of excitement went through the officers in the room, which Ciaran couldn't help but get caught up in as he clenched his fists, feeling his adrenaline rise.

"All of those gathered here have been chosen by myself and Her Highness because we feel that you are all capable of carrying out this mission. It is you men assembled here that will be with us when we finally deliver the killing blow to this rebellion and finally bring Area 11 in to the fold."

"Well said, General Darlton." Lord Guilford said with a smile.

The rest of the meeting went by quickly as the second officer, who Guilford informed Ciaran was General Orson Alex, general of the Sixteenth Armoured Division, took over the meeting. The plan would be a simple one: a total of six battalions, three made up of Knightmares, the rest of regular armour, would surround the Narita mountains. The Knightmares, under the personal command of Cornelia herself, would be used in the assault on the JLF, with support from two of the armoured battalions while the remaining battalion would act as a blocking force for anyone trying to assist the enemy from outside the encirclement. The operation, called Operation Burning Brand, would take place in three days, giving the Britannians enough time to covertly move everything in to place.

To Ciaran it sounded like a logical plan. But looking over the holographic map, his eyes fell on the nearby town at the foot of the mountains.

"General?" He asked, unsure of which of the two officers would answer, so he wasn't surprised when General Alex answered in reply.

"What's on your mind, Captain?" The man asked, crossing his arms across his chest, at which point Ciaran realised that the room had fallen silent, all eyes falling on him.

"Umm.. what's the procedure for dealing with the town at the base of the mountain, sir?" He gestured at the map, pointing at the small collection of rectangular blocks representing the buildings.

"Why should they be of concern?" A random officer from Ciaran's side snorted derisively, forcing the young man to glare at him as he turned his head to look at the officer.

"Well, I for one would very much prefer civilian casualties in a military operation to be kept to as low as... well, zero."

The officer opened his mouth, ready to reply angrily judging by the look on his face, before the baritone voice of General Darlton cut him off.

"Captain Forsyth's concern is correct. We should try to keep civilian casualties to a minimum, General Alex."

"What do you say, Princess?" The grey-haired general asked, turning to address the princess. Looking at her, Ciaran could see that she was in thought over the matter before answer the question.

"I say that we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Everyone is dismissed. Make what preparations need to be made then report to your designated units for further information."

With a quick twirl of her cape, Cornelia exited the room, with Guilford quickly walking past Ciaran, excusing himself, as he moved to catch up with the princess. Around him, the assembled officers either made to leave the room, huddle in to small groups or stand to study the still lit holographic display. The young captain didn't hang around though as he quickly exited the room, giving General Darlton, who was in a deep conversation with Alex, a wide berth before slipping out of the door.

Exiting in to the corridor, he quickly looked around the long expanse before catching sight of Cornelia's cloak disappearing around a corner, closely followed by Guilford. Picking up his pace to move at a jog, closing the distance between the three of them.

"Princess Cornelia!" He called out, getting the attention of both nobles as they turned to face him. Drawing close, Ciaran couldn't help but stop in his tracks as Cornelia turned to look at him with a sharp look in her eyes which made him swallow in trepidation. Standing stiffly, Ciaran bowed his head respectfully. "Your Highness."

"Walk with me, Captain." The Princess ordered simply before turning and continuing her walk down the corridor, Ciaran falling in to step beside her with Guilford bringing up the rear. Bright sunlight streamed through tall windows, almost creating a blinding glare from the white tile floors. The trio walked in silence for a while before Cornelia spoke up. "It definitely seems that Darlton is rubbing off on you, Ciaran."

Ciaran glanced over at the woman, confused by her words. "What do you mean, your highness?"

Turning her head slightly to give Ciaran a sidelong glance, Cornelia's lips curled upwards slightly. "Caring about whether or not civilians are caught in a military operation. It's very noble."

"What makes you think I got the idea from Darlton, princess?" The young captain replied, a half-smile on his face. "Long before I arrived here, I've held the view that the military should try it's best to avoid involving civilians."

"Even in asymmetrical situations like this?" Guilford asked, drawing Ciaran's attention.

"My views still stand, Lord Guilford. In my world, I'd read too many horror stories of civilians getting caught in the crossfire."

"Commendable." Cornelia said, nodding her head as she turned full to face Ciaran, stopping him and Guilford in their steps. "If a bit impractical at times. Trust me on this, Ciaran: no matter how many times a commander wishes to avoid civilian casualties, they will undoubtedly wind up hitting someone who was not supposed to be there."

The young man looked at Princess Cornelia, his blue-green eyes looking at her violet. He didn't say anything as he let her words sink.

"Then that's the fault of the commander."

Both Cornelia and Guilford's eyes opened wide at Ciaran's words.

"What do you mean, Ciaran?" The princess asked, her eyes narrowing at the young man who stared back at her unwaveringly.

"If a commander fights in an environment where civilian are likely to be, then that means the enemy has done it so that the civilians will be there."

"Are you saying we're simply walking in to these terrorist's plans?" Guilford asked, shocked and angry in equal measure. The Knight's eyes opened further in shock as Ciaran nodded.

"Do not think that I am calling you incompetent, your highness. I am pointing out that there are other ways to conduct counter-insurgency than just using brute force. There's more than one way to skin a cat, your highness."

Cornelia was silent as her angry visage morphed in to a thoughtful look, placing one of her hands under her chin. Likewise, Guilford's face softened as he looked from the princess to the young man in confusion.

Cornelia's face was a mask of scepticism as she looked at Ciaran. "Do you really believe there's a better way to go about this, then?"

He nodded his head. "I do."

The older woman fell silent, staring at him for several seconds before she spoke."You're on excused duty for the next few days until Darlton calls you, Ciaran. Come along, Guilford."

The young man's sight dropped to the floor as the Princess and her Knight left him standing in the corridor.

The music in the bar was low enough to not disturb conversation but high enough to hear. Not that Jeremiah paid any attention to the world outside of his glass of whiskey that was resting in his hand against the bar-top. He and Villetta had returned from meeting with the reporter, Diethard Reid. The man had been attached to Prince Clovis' media attaché. Which meant that the man had a certain insight in Area 11. One that he hoped to exploit.

"Can we really trust that man?" Villetta asked from beside him, drawing Jeremiah's attention. Looking to his side, he saw the silver-haired woman sitting on one of the tall stools. With the way one of her long legs was crossed over the other, Jeremiah knew that several pairs of eyes of the few male patrons that were in the officer's bar were on her. But he paid them no mind as he raised his glass to his lips and took a drink, letting the liquid pleasantly burn his throat on the way down.

"I don't like the man so I get what you mean, Villetta. But if you think your plan has much a chance of success as you think it does, then we need his support." The turquoise-haired nobleman replied, distaste in his voice, his gaze remaining fixed on the bar.

His dark-skinned companion nodded her head, raising her Martini glass to take a sip of her drink, before staring directly ahead at the reflection of herself in the mirror behind the bar. From the corner of Jeremiah's eyes, he saw the bartender walk past him as the man approached another patron. Unthinkingly, Jeremiah tuned in to the conversation the bartender was having with the new arrival.

"Not seen you in here before, captain. What can I get you?"

"Got any cider?"

"Anything in particular?"

"What ever you recommend will be fine."

"Coming right up, sir."

One of Jeremiah's eyebrow raised slightly as his brain processed the voice he had heard. The second man's voice was familiar to him, but he couldn't quite place it. Looking up from his glass, he turned his head to look at the end of the bar. Sitting there was a young man dressed in a Royal Guardsmen uniform, with curly, dark brown hair, a few days worth of stubble and a small scar on his right cheek.

"Hello again." Captain Forsyth said amicably, waving one of his hands slightly.

Jeremiah just stared at him unblinkingly for a few seconds while beside him, Villetta turned her head at the voice. If he had turned to look, Jeremiah would have seen a small smile come to her lips at the sight of the young Briton.

"Captain Forsyth. What a surprise to see you here." The noblewoman said, shifting forward slightly to get a better view of the young man. "What are you doing here, if I might ask?"

"The princess put me on excused duty of the next few days." The young man gestured with his hands at the area around him. "So I'm just sitting around, waiting for the call from General Darlton."

Jeremiah and Villetta nodded their heads at Captain Forsyth's words. They had been told that they and the rest of the Purists would be posted to the operation, but had yet to be told to which commander and unit they would be posted to. He knew it was for security purposes, but Jeremiah had a nagging suspicion that this was just another attempt to slight him and the Purists.

The bartender soon returned with the young man's drink, taking the bottle cap off and placing it in front of him, which he accepted readily, taking a swig from the bottle.

"So what have you two been up to since last I saw you?" The young man asked, putting his bottle down on it's coaster.

Jeremiah was unsure about whether or not the captain should be told about his and Villetta's plan. So he decided to play it save.

"Villetta and I have been looking for a way to get back in the Viceroy's good graces."

"You think you have a plan to catch Zero?" The captain asked, taken aback by the nobleman's claim, which annoyed Jeremiah greatly.

"Yes, we do, captain. And I appreciate you not making sound like I'm a poodle that's learned to use the toilet." The blue-haired man replied angrily, turning his head to look away from the younger man, while beside him, Villetta simply shook her head at her companions outburst.

The sound of a stool being scraped back accompanied by a bottle being placed on the bar-top drew Jeremiah's attention as, turning, he came face to face with Captain Forsyth's face. Where once was a genial and friendly face, the young man's face was now stony and stern.

"You really think you have a way to find Zero?" The young man asked.

"We think we do, Captain." Villetta responded, stepping off her stool to stand near Jeremiah.

"Then why haven't you told the Viceroy? Or General Darlton?" Captain Forsyth asked, his eyes going from Villetta then back to Jeremiah.

"Because..." Villetta quickly butt in before she trailed off in to silence as she and Jeremiah suddenly became unsure of what to say. It was true that the plan was meant to boost their position with the Viceroy. But then why hadn't they told her about it?

A loud sigh from the young captain drew their attention as the man took another swig from his bottle, loudly smacking his lips as he swallowed the liquid. He looked at the mouth of the neck before he turned his eyes to look at the pair, a slightly sympathetic look in his eyes.

"How likely do you think you're plan will succeed?" Captain Forsyth asked, his eyes flitting from nobleman to noblewoman.

"I'd say about eighty, eighty-five percent." Villetta answered, looking down at the floor in shame, which Jeremiah agreed with.

"So highly likely to succeed, but also likely to fail." The captain said, nodding his head in understanding.

Jeremiah opened his mouth to protect his and Villetta's plan, but what Captain Forsyth did next took him by surprise. The young man climbed off his stool, taking a final swig from his bottle as he did so. He wasn't truly sure, but Jeremiah thought he could faintly see the young man sway gently as he stood upright.

"If you can write out your plan in detail, I'll help you submit it to the Viceroy." Gone was the stern visage and it was replaced with the same friendly look the young man wore when he came in to the bar.

Jeremiah's eyes opened in surprise as Villetta spoke, surprise in her voice. "You'd do that?"

Captain Forsyth shrugged at the question. "Why not? The sooner we catch that bastard, the sooner we can get on with our lives, no?"

"I'll drink to that." Jeremiah said happily, raising his glass, Villetta copying his action. Even though his bottle was empty, the young man raised his bottle in salute as the two nobles took a swift swig from their glasses.

Putting his glass down, Jeremiah stood up and quickly clasped the young man's hand.

"Thank you, Captain." The tall nobleman said as he shook the hand vigorously, to which the young man waved a hand in front of him, chuckling as he did so.

"Please, it was nothing. And call me Ciaran, for God's sake." The dark-haired man said with a smile.

"Are you drunk?" Villetta asked, giving a sceptical look at the young man.

"I may not be able to hold my alcohol as well I like to believe." Ciaran admitted, before his eyes opened wide in slight fear. "For all that is holy, please do not tell Nonette."

Jeremiah nodded in understanding, having heard some of the tales revolving around the champagne-haired Knight of the Round. In response, Jeremiah motioned for the bartender again while he, Ciaran and Villetta took their seats.

"What will it be, my lord?" The bartender asked as he drew level with the seated nobleman.

"Another round of mine and Lady Villetta's drinks and... Ciaran, are you okay with another cider?"

"As long as you're willing to help me to my room later, then yes. If not, then just a cola will do."

"And a large cola." Jeremiah said quickly, making his companions chuckle as the two took their seats.

The call to start the operation came two days later, Darlton personally rousing Ciaran from his sleep to bring him to the war-room. There, the officers in charge of the mission were given their roles in the mission: who would be assigned to where, who would be under the command of whom, and so forth. It was too surprising to the young man that he would be assigned to be under Darlton's command.

What did surprise was that, partway through the meeting, Ciaran was pulled aside by Cornelia herself. The older woman didn't take hold of his arm to make him move, only motioning with her head to follow her after she told Darlton to carry on with the rest of the meeting.

Standing in the hallway, Cornelia could see that he was uncomfortable from the silence surrounding the pair.

"Are you feeling comfortable about this mission, Ciaran?" The Second Princess asked, looking at her companion in the eyes.

"I'm ready, Cornelia." Ciaran said with a nod of his head.

"Are you sure?"

Ciaran nodded as reply, making Cornelia sigh gently in response before letting a sad smile come to her face. "Ciaran, I want to apologise about my attitude a few days ago. When you broached the idea of going about dealing with the terrorists here in a different manner, I... I'm sorry. You must understand that I have been doing this longer than you have and I have gotten slightly stuck in my ways."

"No, it's all right, Cornelia. I fully understand." The young man replied, nodding his head in sympathy.

"No, it's not, Ciaran." The Second Princess said, shaking her head as she moved to lean against the wall. Even through her cloak and gloves, she could feel the coldness of the marble on her skin. "Remember when I asked you, at Lake Kawaguchi, if you knew anything from your world? Well, I meant it when I was asking for your help. You have knowledge on these subjects that Darlton, Guilford, myself, almost anyone in Britannia does not possess. Your position as a Captain means that you can put forward those ideas and you can freely talk to myself, Darlton or Guilford about your ideas."

Cornelia watched as Ciaran crossed his arms across his chest, looking as though a thought was crossing his mind.

"Have an idea?" She asked as the young man put a finger against his chin.

"Not for this particular operation. But it's something that might work in the future."

"Care to explain it?" Cornelia asked, hopefulness in her voice, which quickly faded as Ciaran shook his head.

"Not in the time we have, I'm afraid. Plus, I only know the bare basics of the plan."

"As good an outline as any." Cornelia said, smiling. "After we finish with the JLF, I want you write out what you know about the plan."

"Understood, Princess." Ciaran replied, as he heard the door to the war-room open, putting his hands behind his back as Darlton and Guilford entered in to the corridor, the princess not having told the two where she was going. The pair of older men looked at each quizzically as Cornelia pushed herself off the wall and walked past them in to the room.

As she entered the room, Cornelia's eyes scanned the room, taking in all the people inside: there were eight other officers, excluding Ciaran and Darlton, all clustered around the holographic table in the centre of the room, with General Alex describing the operation's finer details. Lifting his head, the older General made to speak but the princess shushed him with a small wave of her hand as she moved around the room.

Moving past the table, Cornelia saw her target. Euphemia talking with the two Knights of the Round. Her younger sister was wearing a smart white and pink outfit; a conservative looking knee-length white skirt with a white long sleeved top, over which was worn a pink corset-cum-front-less-skirt combo. The outfit was completed by a large, open top hat through which Euphemia had threaded her long pink hair through before letting it fall over her back in a pony-tail.

"Hey, Nellie!" Nonnette chirped happily, making Cornelia roll her eyes.

"Hello, Nonette. Euphemia, can I talk to you in private, please?"

Euphemia cocked her head slightly. "Why can't we talk here?"

Neither Dorothea or Nonnette said anything, but the grin on the champagne-haired woman's face made Cornelia question the idea. But there was nothing wrong, as the Second Princess saw, in talking about the problem in the open.

"All right then. Euphemia. As the Sub-Viceroy, and my younger sister, I am not comfortable with this course of action."

"But why? You are the Viceroy and the Second Princess, so why are you allowed to lead from the front while I am not allowed to oversee the operation from the rear?"

"Because she's worried about you, Euphie." Nonette answered for her, the Knight of Nine's cheerful tone becoming more morose as she spoke. "She's been that way ever since... well, you know."

While to any other person, the sad tone in the almost perpetually upbeat Nonette's voice would have been cause for concern. But to those who knew how close the woman had been to the late Empress Marianne, it was simply Nonette being Nonette: upfront and truthful as always.

"Your older sister is right though, Euphemia." Dorothea said, her voice drawing the women's attention. "You are placing yourself at unnecessary risk by taking part in this operation."

Cornelia smiled at the Knight of Four's clinical tone. Out of all the Knights of the Round, she got on well with Dorothea. They were alike in many respects: loyal, brave, hard-working. She understood Cornelia's concerns from a military standpoint and would be a useful ally. But there was one thing Cornelia knew the Knight was not prepared for.

"Well, I don't care. I'm still coming." Euphemia said, crossing her arms across her chest and scowling.

The move caught Dorothea by surprise, her eyes widening in shock, while Nonette snickered in to a closed fist. Cornelia's only response however was to put her hand to her head.

"Euphemia..." She sighed out as her sister continued speaking.

"If you're that worried about my safety, just have someone to guard me. What about Ciaran?"

"He can't. Captain Forsyth has been put in charge of a reserve combat unit under Darlton's command. He'd be too far forward to give you support."

"Then about Nonette and Dorothea?" The pink princess said, gesturing to the two older women beside her. "They are Knights of the Round, are they not?"

Cornelia opened her mouth to protest, before stopping as she closed her mouth to think. Euphemia was right: they were Knights of the Round, that was true. And as Knights of the Round, they were duty-bound to protect the Emperor and his children.

And with Ciaran serving on the front-line, Cornelia couldn't think of anyone better to protect Euphemia. She didn't like doing it often, but for now, she would relent to her sibling's request.

"Okay, Euphemia. You can accompany us." Euphemia's face lit up with glee before Cornelia cut her off by putting up a finger. "But I have some provisions. Firstly, you are to be in command of the medical forces, and the medical forces only. Secondly, you are to remain in the G-1 at all times and to be with either Nonette or Dorothea at all times. Understand?"

Euphemia didn't say anything in return, only to nod her head enthusiastically by way of reply.

Satisfied that Euphemia's safety was settled, Cornelia turned to face the table in the centre of the room, her violet eyes falling on the form of General Alex.

"General Alex?" The Princess called out, making the elder man turn to face her. "What's the status on our units in the area?"

"The forward OP has been set up and the scouts have been sent in to the area to ascertain the numbers we're facing and if any civilians are present."

Cornelia nodded her head. "Very good, General. Darlton, be prepared to move out within the hour."

At her command, General Alex and Darlton began began directing the other officers to leave the room and report to their units. Through all the commotion, out of the corner of her eye, the Second Princess saw the Knight of Four approach her.

"Something on your mind, Dorothea?" She asked the dark-skinned woman.

"Your Highness, if Nonette and I are to be protecting Princess Euphemia, then I'm wondering if we're able to take our Knightmares on this operation."

Cornelia was silent for a few seconds before she answered her request. "I have no problem with you two taking your Knightmares. But as I said: you two will be protecting Euphemia in the G-1. If you need to move, you'll move on my orders. Is that understood?"

Dorothea nodded. "Understood, your Highness."

As Cornelia watch the Knight of Four move away, she saw Ciaran talking to Darlton. She couldn't hear what was being said, but the young man seemed to be optimistic about it. He must have caught her out of the corner of his eyes as, waiting for Darlton to leave, Ciaran turned and flashed Cornelia a smile and a quick thumbs up.

Cornelia couldn't help but return the gesture.

The late morning sun was beginning to climb in to the sky and, from his position on the eastern slope of the Narita mountain, Joseph Fenette felt the skin on the back of neck begin to prickle as the first drops of sweat began to trickle down.

The tall, middle-aged, brown-haired father of one stood with a group of six people, all dressed in baby-blue jumpsuits, the type worn by geological survey teams in the Britannian Empire as they stood clustered around a few electronic devices stuck in to the ground. Or rather, the ones worn by geological survey teams of the Imperial University of Lancaster.

Well, there was a half-truth to that. The six members of his team were made of undergraduates from the university, who were hear under the pretence that they were looking for a undiscovered vein of sakuradite in the mountains. Joseph, who actually was a professor of geology, was here with his assistant, Trevor were here for roundabout the same reason, but it was to find a way for the Code R research facility to tap in to the sakuradite in the mountain as an off-the-grid energy source.

Bringing his gloved hand to wipe off the sweat on his beck, Joseph took the time to remove his safety helmet too, as Trevor came towards him. Trevor was a full decade younger than Joseph, thirty-five to his forty-five. He was the same height, but with a slightly thinner build and head of dirty-blonde hair with green eyes and a pencil-thin moustache which didn't suit him at all.

As his assistant drew closer, Joseph saw that Trevor's eyes were flitting between himself and the mountain top.

"Something wrong?" The dark-haired professor asked as his assistant came to stand in front of him.

"I don't like it." Trevor replied after a few seconds of staring at the mountain, dropping his tone so the others couldn't hear him. "We're standing practically on top of the JLF's base."

"Trevor..." Joseph started, trying to calm the man's fears before he was interrupted.

"And surely you've heard the rumours about Princess Cornelia's plans to attack here. And our operation is sitting in the town at the bottom of this mountain. So don't tell me to be calm, because I don't see a reason to be bloody calm!" The entire sentence was practically hissed out, stopping the undergrads from hearing him. Which was an impressive feat from a man who several seconds before been close to panicking.

Joseph nodded his head at his companions concern. The new base for Code R had been chosen because of the belief that being near to the well-known, but somehow still undiscovered, base of the JLF by the higher-ups would mean that no-one would come snooping around.

But of course, they didn't count of the will of the Second Princess of Britannia.

"Doctor Fenette!" One of the undergrads, a young blonde woman, called out. "We've taken the necessary readings, and we have got a vein of sakuradite here."

Joseph put his helmet back on his head before clapping his hands together.

"Excellent!" He called out as he made his way down the slope towards the group. "And with that, that makes us five for six. So I think we can call it a day then. Everyone agree?"

A chorus of agreements told him the answer as he told the group to begin dismantling the equipment. Turning around, Joseph locked his gaze with Trevor as he shot him a look that simply said, "See? Nothing to worry about."

"Ugh. Doctor Fenette?" A bespectacled young man said, leaning over a small computer display hooked up to a spike embedded in the ground. "I'm seeing something weird here."

"What is it?" Joseph asked, turning around to begin walking towards the young man. He stopped dead in his tracks however as several forms burst out of the foliage around them.

Five rifle armed men, dressed in dark green fatigues and the grey body-armour of the Britannian army, emerged quickly from the surrounding area. All wore short-brimmed cloth hats on their heads and their faces were covered in brown and green camouflage paint.

"Everyone on the floor now!" One of the soldiers ordered, obviously the leader of this small band.

"Do as he says." Joseph said, calmly but sternly, as he proceeded to follow the command, moving to lie on the ground, putting his on the back of his head. Following his lead, all the members copied his movements as the soldiers went amongst them, patting each person down for concealed weapons.

Satisfied that the group was unarmed, the lead soldier moved to stand over Joseph. "Who are you people and what are you doing here?"

"We're members of geology department of the Imperial University of Lancaster, sir. We're here to try and fine untapped veins of sakuradite. I have a permit from the Viceroy's office if you want to check."

The man above him was silent before he spoke. "All right. Stand up."

Joseph removed his hands from his head before pushing himself off the floor. Opening one of the chest pockets on his jumpsuit, he reached inside and pulled out a folded sheet of paper which he quickly handed to the soldier before him. The armed man took it quickly, unfolding it before reading the paper. Joseph remembered what the line near the bottom of the paper said:

Signed by her Imperial Highness, Third Princess of the Holy Britannian Empire and Sub-Viceroy of Area 11,

Euphemia li Britannia

Underneath that would be the same name repeated in elegant, flowing script with a small seal of the Britannian Royal Family beside it.

Satisfied, the soldier folded up the paper and passed it back to Joseph. "All right, that checks out. Now, I suggest you tell your people to pack up their equipment and leave."

"What?" One of the undergrads called out, turning his head slightly to look at the standing pair to avoid getting a mouthful of dirt. "The professor just told you that we're allowed to be here."

"Not any more, lad." The officer replied coolly. "This place is going to turn in to a war-zone soon. Princess Cornelia has ordered all non-combatants out of the area. That means all of you."

The group began to murmur to each other angrily before Joseph shushed them up.

"We were finishing up anyway. I'm sure the sakuradite will still be here when we get back. You'll get no trouble from us, sir. We'll do as you say."

The soldier nodded as Joseph got his group to stand on their feet and dismantle the equipment. As he stood overseeing the business, Trevor came up beside him.

"I told you this wouldn't go well." He spoke quietly.

"Relax. Nothing bad is going to happen." Joseph replied, keeping his eyes on the group as the moved the equipment down the mountainside to their waiting vans, all the while being guarded by the soldiers, the pair following the group. As he cleared one of the small copse of trees at the base of the mountain, Joseph saw that there were two military Jeeps armed with a large machine gun idling near the duo of vans used by the university, two more soldiers sitting in the front of the jeeps.

"We'll escort you out of the area." The officer of the group said, addressing the pair, before moving to climb in to the first of the Jeep. Before he was able to move towards his van, Joseph felt Trevor take hold of his shoulder and spin him around, an angry look in his assistants face.

"If this place is going to become a war-zone, what are we going to do about the others?"

Turning his head slightly, Joseph could see the fringes of the town past the edges of the trees. The distance from where he was to the town was too far, and he was quite sure that the soldiers were under orders to escort any civilians out of the area, no questions asked. He didn't like it, but there was nothing he could do.

"You heard the man, Trevor. Get in to the van. We're leaving."

Joseph ignored the other man's look of disgust as he moved towards the first van, climbing inside the front passenger's seat. Beside him, he saw the glasses wearing undergrad grip fretfully at the wheel.

"Were they telling the truth, professor? Is this place going to become a battlefield?"

He didn't feel it himself, but nonetheless, Joseph shot the young man a warm smile as he patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, son. We'll be out of here before the shooting starts."

The sound of an engine pulling up alongside them as they saw the first Jeep move in front of them. From the front, the officer motioned for the vans to start following them.

"Better do as he says, lad." Joseph said as he fastened his seatbelt. "Don't want to get in to trouble."

At his words, the undergrad started the van's engine before pulling up behind the moving military vehicle. Looking in his windscreen mirror, Joseph saw the second van start up behind them and follow the first van down the road with the second Jeep bringing up the rear.

By his reckoning, they had gone perhaps about six miles away from the town of Narita when, looking through his window, Joseph's eyes opened in shock at what he saw: the large, dark purple form of one of the Britannian Army's mobile command centre.

"Holy shit..." The bespectacled undergrad muttered under his breath as he saw several bipedal machines, Knightmares, launch from the large vehicle while the sound of firing cannons preceded the sight of a squadron of tanks firing their long guns up at the mountain. Overhead, several dozen of aircraft disgorged numerous more Knightmares on to the mountainside.

"He wasn't joking..." Joseph said to himself as he saw a serious of explosions bloomed on the slopes of the mountain.

His mind went back to thoughts of the researchers in the town. There was no way that he could contact them from the van without arousing the suspicion of the other people in the vehicle and he certainly wasn't going to risk the lives of the undergrads since he doubted the soldiers would allow them to turn back.

Sighing softly, he rubbed his temple with the back of his hand, feeling sweat trickle down his skin. There was nothing he could do as the van rolled further down the highway, the armed Jeep in front pulling to the side of the road and the officer motioning for the group to continue driving.

On the bridge of the G-1, the noise level was surprisingly subdued for what Euphemia would call a major engagement. Although admittedly, the young princess hadn't really seen many battles first-hand. Only reading about them in her history books and hearing about them from the likes of Darlton and Cornelia. There was no rushing around and panicked calls from the officers present, not cries for aid from the soldiers in the battle.

Although as Euphemia thought on it, that might have just been in the movies.

The calm however didn't help the pink princess. She felt incredibly uneasy about the whole thing, and even the close present of Nonette and Dorothea couldn't calm the butterflies broiling in her stomach. Looking over the holographic map display in the table in front of her, she focused on several icons in particular: three deep purple icons advancing up the mountain, indicating her sister's machine, her Knight's and the scarred General's machines. Euphemia swallowed in trepidation as she watched Cornelia's machine move ahead of the main force on her own.

The Knight of Nine must have sensed her feelings because she placed a hand on Euphemia's shoulder, causing the teenager to look her in the face. Nonette's blue eyes seemed to glow as she looked at the young princess, smiling as she spoke.

"Don't worry about Nellie. She's done this more than once and she's always come out in one piece."

She didn't doubt the older woman's words, but Euphemia still felt uneasy. Pressing a button on the table, she pulled up a small display showing a small list of units held in reserve: a mixture of hospital and engineering units held at the rear, with the latter outnumbering the former by at least two-to-one, which Euphemia though to be understandable considering the amount of Knightmares and armoured vehicles taking part in the assault.

The screen suddenly shook, the lines of the mountain and the placement of the units shaking wildly, causing some of the other members of the Royal Guard to groan in exasperation.

"ECM. Didn't think the JLF would use that." One of them, a bearded man, said before catching the puzzled look on Euphemia's face. "Electronic Countermeasures, your Highness. It's meant to disrupt communications and the like."

"Although the JLF deployed it too late for it to have any major effect." Another one said.

A short burst of static from a small headset placed on the table top before a familiar voice came through. "Griffin One Actual to Command. Come in."

Picking up the headset, Dorothea put it to her ear as she spoke to Ciaran. "Griffin One Actual, Command reads you loud and clear. Go ahead, Ciaran."

"Just wanted to check that the radios still worked. Just had a burst of static on my screens."

"Enemy ECM. Nothing major to worry about." Dorothea replied, her eyes seeming to scan the table to try and locate the young Briton's unit.

"Copy that, my lady. Griffin One Actual, out."

Leaning over, Euphemia tried to locate her friend's unit, before spotting him partway between her position and the base of the mountain. The pink princess' eyes squinted in annoyance at seeing that Cornelia had put Ciaran's unit close enough to the G-1 but also close enough to put him in the perfect position to reinforce Darlton's units.

"What combat units do we have in reserve?" She asked, not taking her eyes of the screen.

"Strictly speaking, we only have two, your Highness. The Purists under the command of Captain Forsyth and the Special Corps with the Eleven pilot. General Alex's units are placed where they are to support both Princess Cornelia's advance as well as General Darlton's."

"The Special Corps?" Nonette asked, looking over the table.

"Yes. This unit right here." The bearded officer said, pointing to an icon far to the rear of the Britannian lines. "Units with Numbers are not allowed, as a rule, to operate Knightmares, but that unit is a particular exception."

"Indeed. And since the Second Prince is their patron, and he wants the unit to have as many chances at combat as possible, Princess Cornelia let them take the rearguard." The second guardsman said.

Euphemia nodded in understanding, although the revelation that Suzaku's unit was bringing up the rear did not help the butterflies in her stomach.

From his position, standing up in the cockpit of his Burai, Lelouch let his eyes scan over the assembled force of the Black Knights standing on the top of the mountain that served as the base for the Japanese Liberation Front. All around them, the air echoed with the din of combat.

Even with the minor loses from the operation to rescue Kallen, the number of Burais given to them by Kyoto still told the exiled Prince that his plan really might have a chance of succeeding. Lelouch had with him over fifty people on foot and twenty Burais.

Good numbers for his plan.

Taking a deep breath, he spoke to the terrorists a gathered before him.

"Our enemy... is Princess Cornelia herself. The fabled 'Witch of Britannia'. She is the best that Britannia has to offer."

An expectant silence fell over the crowd, all eyes, both human and mechanical, locked on him.

"All of you here believe in me, believe in what I can give you: the freedom of Japan. You have put your trust in me, and I promise that I will not fail you. Surrounded we may be, but I assure you that we will emerge triumphant. So I ask this to you now: Will you join me?"

Raising their arms in to the air, the Black Knights roared their answer, agreeing to join Zero's fight.

Underneath his mask, Lelouch couldn't help but let the snarl of a smile. Even if the plan to rescue Kallen had been a strategic choice, the fact she'd been rescued had done more for his popularity in the group, and he was aware of it. They were calling him a miracle worker, the man who would beat the Britannians. No-one had argued with his plan to engage Cornelia's forces, and no-one questioned his decision to fight the way they were.

A small part of his brain told him that he suffering from a serious ego trip, but he didn't care. He was loving every second of it.

"But are you sure this can work, Zero?" Inoue asked. Looking down, Lelouch saw that she had a rocket propelled grenade launcher slung across her back and a pair of binoculars around her neck.

"Do you doubt me, Inoue?" Lelouch asked, inclining his head to look at the older woman.

The indigo-haired woman jostled the launcher on her should slightly, getting it in to a better position before shaking her head. "I trust you. But I just don't feel comfortable with this plan, Zero."

The exiled Prince could understand her concern: having the enemy surround you before launching your attack did not really sound like something a sane person would do.

"There is no reward without risk, Inoue." Zero replied. "If we are to accomplish something remarkable, we must do something remarkable."

'Although I think the line between remarkable and stupid might be a blurred here.' Lelouch thought to himself, before he set his eyes on the red Guren, the red-haired pilot standing up for all to see.

"Besides," He called out, gesturing to the crimson and orange machine. "We have our secret weapon. Kallen? Are you ready?"

If the teenage, half-Japanese girl hadn't been listening before, he had her attention now as she stood nearly ramrod straight, enough to put a professional soldier to shame.

"Yes, Zero. I am!" She called out, the fire in her eyes evident for all to see.

Sweeping his arms wide, Zero gestured widely to the various, large probes he had the Black Knights insert in to the ground. "Our plan will be simple: Kallen will use penetrating electrode three to disable the enemy forces. When she does, Cornelia will be cut off, at which point we will advance on mass to point three. Remember: we are to capture Cornelia only. Anyone else who gets in our way is to be swept aside."

Various confirmations came from the assembled group, the soldiers on foot rushing to their designated positions while the pilots of the Burais readied their machines. Climbing in to his own cockpit, Lelouch activated the main screen in his Burai, the screen flickering to life to show him Kallen climbing in the Guren's cockpit. He knew that the Britannians were already aware of the Guren's capabilities, but he also knew that they didn't know about Kallen's abilities as a pilot.

Ohgi's voice came through the radio, catching Lelouch unawares. "Zero, Are you sure about the JLF?"

The masked terrorist chuckled slightly. "Don't worry about them, Ohgi. Just focus on the mission."

"Copy that, Zero." Came the reply.

Lelouch couldn't fight the smile that came to his face as he moved his Burai in to position. 'Revolutions are so easy.' He thought to himself. 'Just tell them what they want to hear, and you've got them.'

"Zero, I'm in position." Kallen said. Looking through his screen, Lelouch saw that the red machine was manoeuvred to stand near one of the electrodes.

"All right, Kallen." Lelouch replied, before taking a deep breath. This was it. His moment of victory. "Be ready to begin on my mark."

Resting his elbows on the top of his Gloucester's cockpit, Ciaran shifted the focus on his binoculars to try and follow the combat going on on the mountainside before him. He knew that using the Factsphere on his unit would make it easier, but he didn't want to drain the machine's energy filler unnecessarily.

From what he could see, Darlton's battalion, the scarred general's Gloucester leading the charge, were converging on a single location just hidden by a copse of trees, but from the amount of outgoing and ingoing fire, the young man guessed that it was an important location.

"Looks like Darlton's units are taking some heavy fire." He heard Villetta say, the silver-haired woman watching the same scene he was, except without the aid of the binoculars.

Besides the young captain's Gloucester, seven light purple Sutherlands with red pauldrons of the Purist Faction stood at attention behind the rear combat line of the Britannian main force. Their position, while optimal to watch the display of military power, did not allow the unit to take part in the fighting.

Which didn't overly bother Ciaran, but it did cause the ire to rise among the rest of the Purists. Even though he knew that Kewell and Jeremiah didn't get along, the young man was already sick and tired of their whining.

"Look!" One of the Purists called out, drawing everyone's attention. Looking through his binoculars, Ciaran tried to find the reason for the outburst. As luck would have it, it had been the exact area where he had been looking at before. Above the trees, he watched as a bright green flare shot up in to the sky before exploding in a green ball.

Pushing himself up in to a standing position, grimacing slightly at the ache in his back, Ciaran smiled as Darlton's voice came through the radio. "Attention all units: we have found the entrance to the JLF's base. I repeat: we have found it."

"Fucking ay." Ciaran said, turning to smile at the silver-haired woman, standing in her Knightmare's cockpit. "He's got it."

"He's found it?" Jeremiah called out from his left, turning to look at the young man in shock, his eyes opening wide. "Did the General give us the command to move forward?"

The young man shook his head, which cause the nobleman's face to morph in to a snarl of anger.

"No!" The turquoise-haired nobleman roared, slamming his fists on to the top of his Sutherland, the bang travelling all the way to Ciaran's ears, taking him by surprise. "No, no, no. How can they do this me?"

Ciaran had zero clue what Jeremiah was talking about, looking at Villetta in confusion.

"It's because Orange-boy is here, that's why." Kewell growled out, catching Ciaran's attention as he turned to look at the man standing at his right. "If it wasn't because of him, we'd all be on the front-lines where we belong."

"I'm telling you, it was Zero!" Jeremiah called out, his voice becoming both angry and upset in equal measure at the blame laid on him.

Personally, Ciaran wasn't sure what to make of the claim. He had heard about the 'Orange Incident' from Guilford, about how, even though Jeremiah had Zero in his sights and was ready to capture him then and there, only for the man to suddenly to give the order for Zero to be allowed to escape.

He wasn't really sure what to believe, but since the turquoise-haired nobleman repeatedly stated that he had no memory of letting the terrorist escape, he was inclined to believe the man's claims.

"I highly doubt that is the reason why we're here, my lord." Ciaran said to Kewell, attempting to placate the man. "Although I will admit that I am not fully privy to the machinations of high command."

"But surely you can ask us to be moved forward, Captain?" Jeremiah asked, beginning to sound quite disturbed at the prospect of not fighting.

"Why? Do you just want another change to betray us again?" Kewell asked, a sneer on his face, causing a snarl to appear on Jeremiah's.

The petty arguing was beginning to grate on Ciaran's nerves, ever as he tried to shut out the voices of the older men surrounding him arguing like teenagers in a classroom. As they continued speaking, the young man was certain he could feel a vein begin to throb on his forehead, hearing Kewell's voice cut through Jeremiah's sentence.

"Oh, you'd like us to believe it wa-"

He didn't mean it to happen, but Ciaran snapped.

"Will you two shut the fuck up?!" The young man roared, catching everyone by surprise. Villetta's mouth hung open in stunned awe as Ciaran's eyes snapped back and forth between her two compatriots, the Briton continuing with his tirade.

"Both of you, shut up and start acting like the proper fucking soldiers you claim to be! Ever since I have met you two, you two have done practically nothing but argue with each other and it is getting on my fucking nerves! You!" He pointed a finger at Jeremiah. "Shut up. And you." He shifted his hand to point at Kewell. "Seriously: Shut. The. Fuck up. That's a fucking order."

"How dare you...!" The hazel-haired nobleman began before being silenced by Ciaran.

"No! I've fucking had it with you. I have only ever known one other person who's voice annoys me more than anything else, and you are quickly beginning to replace him. If you want to have something to do, I can shit-kick back to the furthest rear echelon unit I can find, and I will be fucking glad to do it."

The young man fell in to silence, taking in ragged breaths as he tried to bring his anger under control.

"All of you claim to be one of the elite units in this army, but the only one I've seen taking that claim seriously is Lady Villetta. So unless you all start acting like soldiers, I'm positive that Princess will continue to have you relegated to rear echelon duty."

Ciaran wasn't sure that what he was saying was the truth, but if it got the group to be quiet then he didn't care. No reply was forthcoming from the pair of arguing nobles, only a hostile glare from Kewell and an ashamed silence from Jeremiah, so the young man turned his attention back to mountainside. Through his binoculars, he could see that the Britannian units had surrounded the claimed entrance to the mountain hideout.

A loud, low rumble filled the air, taking everyone by surprise, all present looking around them for the source of the noise. Looking up, Ciaran's eyes opened wide in shock at what he saw: a literal avalanche of mud and rock was cascading down the mountain. As it made it's way down, the landslide swept away Gloucesters, Sutherlands and Burais, Knightmares and armoured units alike en mass. He watched in horror Darlton's machine disappeared under a flurry of mud before emerging a bit further down the slope, using its slash harken to attach itself to a large rock before beginning to haul himself to safety.

Cornelia's voice called out over the radio. "This is Viceroy Cornelia to all Britannian units of Battalions Three and Four, I want a status report on the whereabouts of Generals Darlton and Alex. Respond immediately!"

"Princess, it's Captain Forsyth." Ciaran replied, remembering to use his rank over the open radio. "I've got Darlton's unit in my sights. He's taken a few casualties, but he appears to be all right."

"And General Alex?"

"No sign of him, your Highness." The young man replied, using his binoculars to scan the scenery for the other General's transport.

"Copy that, Captain. I want to stay where you are and protect the G-1, is that understood?"

"I understand, your Highness." Ciaran replied, looking through his binoculars across the landscape, trying to find the older woman's squad. "Princess, where are you? I can't see you from where I am standing."

"I'm all right, Captain. I'm on the south-east side of the mountain, on the other side of the landslide..."

"My lady, lookout!" Guilford's voice called out, before a muffled burst of gunfire sounded over the radio, quickly followed by a burst of static as Cornelia's radio went offline.

"Princess! Cornelia, come in!" Ciaran called frantically, before resetting his headpieces frequency to contact the G-1. "Princess Euphemia, come in. Cornelia's cut off-"

"Ciaran!" Euphemia called out, sounding very panicked. "I've just got a message over the radio. The Black Knights are heading right for Cornelia's unit!"

"What? Are you sure?" Ciaran asked, scanning the terrain for any sign of the enemy units mentioned.

"Yes. I can see them on the main display here, and they're heading right for her from two directions! You're the only unit able to reach her in time."

"But Princess, she ordered me to protect the G-" He began before Euphemia interrupted him mid-sentence.

"I've got Nonette and Dorothea here with me. Now go! I'll send the Lancelot to assist."

"Understood, Princess." Ciaran replied before switching off his headset.

"What's going on, Captain?" Villetta asked, looking at him with confusion.

"Cornelia's unit is cut off and the Black Knights are heading right for her." Came the sharp reply as the young man placed his binoculars in to a belt pouch, causing a gasp of surprise from the silver-haired woman and a collection of angry muttering from the other Purists.

"What? Zero is here?" Jeremiah called out, to which Ciaran nodded. "Finally! Revenge is mine!" The turquoise-haired man called out, before beginning to clamber in to his cockpit.

"Lord Jeremiah, wait!" Villetta called out, futilely holding her hand out to stop him as his Sutherland began to race forward on its landspinners.

"Lord Jeremiah, stop right there!" Ciaran called out over his mic as his cockpit block slid in to place. He levelled his machine's assault rifle at the nobleman's machine as it skidded to a halt.

"Captain! What are you doing?" Jeremiah asked, his voice shaking with near unbridled rage. "Zero is here. I can-"

"If you try and move without my orders one more time, I will gun you down where you stand." The Briton replied icily, meaning every word. "We have been given an order, so I expect you to listen to me."

"But, Captain -" Jeremiah tried to speak before he was cut off again.

"We don't have time to listen to you, my lord! Do you want to be taken seriously by the Viceroy again?" The Captain asked in reply.

"Yes, of course!"

"Then do as I say! Now, everyone: get in to your Knightmares. Now!"

Looking through his side screens, Ciaran watched as the Purists hesitated at his order. It wasn't to his surprise that Villetta was the first one to follow his order, the dark-skinned noblewoman climbing in to her machine's cockpit. Seconds after, the other nobles followed suit, climbing in to their machines.

Activating his mic, he set it to talk to all of them at once.

"All right, listen up. Princess Cornelia is cut off and in danger of being overrun. Jeremiah, you're taking the four units on my left and you're to go and reinforce Princess Cornelia's bodyguard. Go, now!"

"On it!" The older man roared, peeling his Sutherland away followed by the other Purist Knightmares, his voice showing his relish at the probability of getting in to combat.

"What about the rest of us, Captain?" Villetta's voice came through as her face appeared on the main view-screen. A look of confusion was on her face as Ciaran rolled the pads on the top of the control sticks around before pushing his Gloucester forward.

"You're coming with me. We're going to intercept the Black Knights as they come down the mountain." The young man said as his Knightmare rolled over a small hill and began climbing up the mountain. "If it is the Black Knights, then keep your eyes open for the red Knightmare. If you see it, give it a wide birth."

"Understood, Captain." Came the woman's reply. Checking his monitor, Ciaran saw that Villetta and the other Purists had fallen in to line behind him. Switching his mic to a different signal, he contacted the Special Corps and the Lancelot. "Suzaku, you moving out?"

"Yes, Captain." Came the reply for the Japanese teenager. "I'm moving up to join you and your unit."

"Negative on that, Suzaku. I want to you to go and link up with Cornelia's unit."

The teenager's reply was slightly distressed at the change of plan. "But, Captain, I-"

"Don't argue with me, mate! Just do as you're told." Ciaran snapped back.

Suzaku was silent for a moment before he spoke again. "Understood, sir. Good luck."

Ciaran didn't say anything in reply as he keyed off his mic and pushed his Gloucester forward, the sand panel equipped landspinners easily keeping the machine afloat on the mud. His eyes flicking to side, he looked at the display showing the location of his unit and the approaching Black Knights.

Five hundred metres and closing.

"Everyone spread in to a wedge. I'll be the tip!" He called over the mic. No reply came through to his ears, but he saw the four Sutherlands spread out to his sides.

Two hundred metres.

He leant his Gloucester forward and readied its lance.

One hundred metres.

Directly in front of him, Ciaran saw a slope angled forward, overlooking the path the Black Knights were travelling down. Pushing the machine's speed up, he raced ahead of the others, launching himself off the slope. To the extreme right of the main view-screen, he could see them: four black pseudo-Glasgows, one with a red head unit, and one red machine.

"Ura!" He roared as his machine sailed through the air, black cape trailing and twisting behind it as he turned the Gloucester to its side and slamming heavily on to the ground. Ciaran's Gloucester landed in a crouch, sliding sideways through the mud as the pilot keyed his external speaker, the quartet of Purist Sutherlands landing behind him.

"Hello, Zero."

Almost immediately, two of the black pseudo-Glasgows shot forward, ready to attack the Gloucester which raised itself to it's full height. Before they got within striking distance of Ciaran's machine, a burst of machine gun fire from the Purists sent them sprawling to the earth, exploding seconds after their cockpits ejected, rocketing in to the sky.

"Is that you, Orange Boy?" A voice called out from the machine with the red head as Ciaran readied his machine's lance, shifting his grip to the halfway point on the shaft and holding it horizontally behind him as he widened his stance, his sights firmly on the red-headed machine.

"If you mean Jeremiah, then you're sadly mistaken. My name is Ciaran Forsyth, Captain of Princess Cornelia's Royal Guard."

"So you're the man who chased me at Kitakyushu." The voice replied, a hint of annoyance in his voice which brought a small smile to Ciaran's face, which quickly fell as the terrorist continued speaking. "Looks like you're just another Britannian lapdog. How pitiful."

"I'm no-one's lapdog. And I'm not Britannian! I'm fucking British!" Ciaran roared as his Gloucester rushed forward, his lance held ready to skewer Zero's machine.

A loud crash of metal on metal filled the air as the red Knightmare lunged forward, battering aside Ciaran's lance with it's large right claw, forcing the purple machine backwards before retaking it's earlier stance.

"Hello again, you big red bastard." Ciaran growled out through his headpiece as his opponent took it's place opposite him before switching the frequency to talk to Villetta. "Villetta, I'm going to take on Red. I want you and the others to pull back and run interference against the other Black Knights."

"What are you talking-" The silver-haired woman tried to ask before she was interrupted.

"Cornelia's got enough back-up for her personal squad, but if they're cut off, we're finished. Red here is the Black Knight's ace. So I need to keep him tied down. Understand?"

Villetta was silent for several seconds before she replied, her voice taking on a stern tone. "Understood, Captain. Good luck to you."

The young captain didn't say anything in reply as he watched the four icons speed away, indicating the Purist Knightmares had left him on his own. But he didn't mind as he threw away his Knightmare's assault rifle and taking a two-handed grip on his lance, pointing the tip right at his opponent.

"So, you red bastard. Are we doing this or not?" He called out, a sneer on his face. Which quickly fell from his face when he heard the voice that replied.

"Don't underestimate me, you bastard!" A familiar female voice roared back, catching Ciaran by surprise.

"Kallen?" Ciaran asked, taken aback by the anger in the girl's voice.

"H-how do you...?" The teenage girl asked in reply. "You're the man from the prison!"

Ciaran let out a sigh. "So it has to be this way then. So be it."

Raising the lance so it's tip was aimed directly at the centre of the machine's torso, the young man readied the machine to rush forward. It didn't feel right in any sense of the word, but Ciaran knew he didn't have the choice as he watched the rest of the Black Knights slink away from the stand-off.

"Let's do this!" He called out before he charged forward.

A harsh beeping filled the inside of Cornelia's cockpit as she emptied the last round in her assault rifle's magazine before it was ejected. Scanning her inventory quickly, the Second Princess swore loudly to herself as she saw that she was out of spares.

"I need a fresh magazine!" She called out to her unit. Around her, the mixed unit of Sutherlands and Gloucesters that made up her praetorian guard for this engagement had taken cover behind the various rocks and trees, taking shelter as numerous missiles and projectiles flew around them from up the slope.

"I'm throwing one to you now, your Highness." A Sutherland pilot called out, the machine throwing a fresh magazine which Cornelia's Gloucester caught deftly before inserting it in to her weapon and continuing to fire up the slope. Through her display, she could see the shapes of the Black Knights' Knightmares holding their position on the ridge firing down on the Princess' unit.

"Damn these Elevens." Guilford said, firing his rifle in short, controlled bursts. The Knight's aim was spot on as always as his rounds penetrated the leg of one of the enemy machines, making it topped forward before a trio of rounds punched through the cockpit, killing the pilot and detonating the power source of the machine, sending a large fireball rise in to the sky. "Princess, we have to get out of here!"

"No, Guilford!" Cornelia retorted angrily, offended at the mere notion of retreating. "I will not retreat. Not now. Not in the face of this... scum!"

"Your Highness. We have contacts coming in from the right flank. Closing fast." Another pilot cut in.

"What's their IFF?" Guilford asked, wary of the incoming Knightmares, especially after what happened at Shinjuku and Saitama.

"They're the Purists, my lord!" The pilot replied, shocked by the turn of events. His words were true however as a quintet of Sutherlands with red pauldrons burst through the tree-line and came up behind Cornelia's guard, firing their weapons up the slope.

"Princess Cornelia!" The loud voice of Jeremiah Gottwald called out through his loudspeakers, firing a grenade rifle up at the enemy as he did so. "We are here to assist, your Highness."

"Margrave Jeremiah! What are you doing here?" Cornelia roared at the nobleman. "I ordered Captain Forsyth to remain where he was and protect the G-1!"

"The sub-viceroy noted that she had two Knights of the Round to protect her, and the Captain is leading the rest of the Purists to stall the Black Knights who were attempting to flank you."

"What?" Cornelia said, taken aback by the news. Moving her fingers quickly, she pressed a series of buttons on her control sticks that brought up a larger version of the tactical map. Scrolling quickly, she saw that Gottwald had been telling the truth as she saw a small blue icon moving erratically around a small square of the map, while a red icon copied it's movements.

Ciaran was obviously fighting another unit in a solo duel. Down from the fight, she saw several blue icons engaging an equal number of red icons.

Switching the frequency on her radio, she tried to contact the young man.

"Ciaran, what's going on?"

"Can't talk right now!" Came the reply, the sound of clashing metal on metal filtering through the radio. "Kind of fighting for my life here!"

"Answer me, Ciaran. What are you doing?" Cornelia asked sharply, although she couldn't help fight the concern in her voice.

"I've got the red unit from Nagano focused on me. If this thing gets to you, this whole situation goes FUBAR."

A retort died in Cornelia's throat as a large explosion rocked her Gloucester, showering her with mud and rock. A close call from a shoulder-fired rocket propelled grenade she guessed. Letting out a sigh, Cornelia resigned herself to the fact that her young friend would be without her assistance for a while.

"Don't go dying on me, Ciaran. Euphie will never forgive you, or me." The purple-haired princess said with a tone of sadness in her voice, even as around her the sound of gunfire increased in volume.

"Don't worry about that, Cornelia. I don't plan on dying here." Ciaran replied to the princess' order, switching off the radio as he circled the red Knightmare, his opponent copying his movements. He flinched as a small spark flew past his face from a wire that had been ruptured from an impact on the side of his hull.

Even from the inside of his cockpit, the young man had a feeling that his Gloucester had taken a fair few close calls from his opponent: his cape was torn from where Kallen's machine had tried to grapple him from behind, only for him to spin out of her grasp. She had managed to land a few blows against his shoulders and arms, buckling and shredding the armour in brutal scars. Although Ciaran took a bit of solace in the fact that the red machine in front of him was looking equally worse for wear.

"Had enough, Brit?" The teenage girl called out, her machine flexing it's large right hand, clacking it's claws menacingly. In reply, Ciaran brought up his lance before spinning it above his head and shifting it in to a two-handed grip similar to when he started the fight.

"I was about to ask you the same thing, lass. No chance that I could get you to give up?" Ciaran asked a little more cockily than he intended it to sound.

"Not a chance!" The younger girl roared out as she pushed her machine forward, her machines claws held open, ready to ensnare the Gloucester before her. Reacting quickly, Ciaran pushed his machine forward and to the side, bringing his lance up to try and skewer the opposing machines shoulder joint.

With little surprise, the red Knightmare jinked to the side, letting the lance slice through thin air before, after regaining her footing, surging forward to try and catch Ciaran in her grasp.

"Not a fucking chance!" Ciaran roared as he fired on the machine with the hull mounted machine gun. He watched as the rounds peppered the metallic arm, but the rounds had little effect outside of making the arm spasm from the impacts. He had to remember to talk to Derek about changing the calibre of the gun to something larger as he moved aside, letting the claw sail past him. Swinging his lance over his head, he brought it down sharply to try and hit the machine with brute-force.

The hit never landed though as, with a loud sound of metal impacting on metal, Ciaran found himself within the grasp of the large claws of the machine, stopping him from bringing his lance down on to his opponent.

"I never got to thank you, you know." He heard Kallen say, genuine remorse in her voice as Ciaran looked around the cockpit for way out of his current situation. "So I'm going to offer you the same choice your friend gave to me in Kitakyushu: surrender now, or I'll be forced to end your life."

Ciaran's hands shook with adrenaline as he thought the answer over. "What happens in I surrender?"

"I don't know really. You'll probably be used in a hostage exchange or something." The girl said, no small degree of uncertainty in her voice.

'Capture or death. Death or capture.' Ciaran said to himself, his eyes scanning the inside of his cockpit, looking for a way out of the situation he was in. As his eyes swept along his legs, he saw the two red panels that marked the ejection seat.

A smile came to his face as he released his grip on the control sticks and his fingers tightened around the panels. "Thank you for the offer, Kallen, but that sounds like a 'lose-lose' situation to me. So I'm going to have to pass."

"Your choice." The female pilot said darkly, before Ciaran felt the machine vibrate and the heat begin to rise sharply. In response, the Briton yanked back on the panels, activating the self-eject. He was thrown forward as the rockets ignited and sent the cockpit soaring in to the sky. He felt the pod shake slightly, probably the force of his Gloucester exploding, Ciaran reckoned., before his travel upwards was stopped by the parachute opening to slow his descent.

Villetta's voice came in to his ear, taking him surprise. "Captain, what happened? Why did you eject?"

"I was caught between a rock and a hard place, my lady." Ciaran replied, scratching at his forehead lightly. "Given the choice between surrendering or being killed, what would you choose?"

"Fair point." Over the noblewoman's voice, the young man could hear the sounds of sporadic gunfire, which told him that he should probably close the conversation quickly.

"I'm going to be out of the fight. You know your objective, so I'm trusting you to lead your squad. Good luck, Villetta."

"Good luck to you too, Ciaran. I'll see you when this is over." The woman said before the radio fell in to silence. He thought on contacting either Darlton or Cornelia, but he decided against it as they were probably caught up in their own problems.

With a loud thud, the cockpit collided with the ground, indicating that he had come to a stop on the ground. Letting out a grunt of annoyance, Ciaran settled in to his seat as best he could. He had a feeling that he would be there for a while.

The battle of the Narita mountains raged on for hours. Though the combined efforts of Ciaran and Villetta managed to slow the advance of the Black Knights, it was the unexpected arrival of reinforcements for the Japanese Liberation Front that marked the true turning of the tide for the battle. The Four Holy Swords, led by Lieutenant Colonel Kyoshiro Tohdoh, managed to break through the cordon set up around the combat zone before attacking Cornelia's unit from the rear.

The attack, carried out in specialized variants of Burais, was swift and brutal, with several Britannians falling to the large anti-Knightmare blades. The attack forced Cornelia to flee, leaving Lord Guilford and the rest of the unit to deal with the attackers.

Whether it was planned or not, the sudden attack played right in to Zero's hand as he sent the now freed up Kallen and her Guren to cut off Cornelia's Gloucester from her rendezvous point. Almost immediately, the duo engaged in a duel, each pilot skilfully attacking and countering the other. It was through the use of her Radiant Wave Surger, the use of which caused the destruction of Cornelia's lance and the arrival of Zero in his Burai which disabled the Gloucester, that Kallen managed to force the Second Princess on to the defensive.

Away from her personal duel, the Princess' forces weren't faring any better. Guilford and his forces found themselves forced in to a tighter and tighter corner due to the ferocity of the Four Holy Swords, while the remaining forces under Darlton's command were being hammered by the resurgent forces of the JLF in their mountain fortress, pushing the General's forces back down the mountain, even as the mountain shook with the after-effects of landslide. The disaster had virtually destroyed the Britannian forces at Narita, leaving only twenty percent of ground forces operational.

The fight, the battle and very possibly Britannian rule in Area 11 would have been finished were it not for the timely arrival of Suzaku and the Lancelot. The arrival of the white prototype Knightmare, provoking the ire of the masked terrorist, forced Kallen to change tactics, starting a titanic duel between the two prototype machines. Both machines were matched in speed and durability, but through sheer ferocity, Kallen proved the more capable of the pair, destroying one of the sand-panel equipped landspinners and one of the Lancelot's swords.

Acting quickly, Suzaku fired his VARIS, hoping the shot would disable or destroy the Guren. Using her new weapon, Kallen blocked the shot, however, the transferred force resulted in the Guren being thrown off a precipice, causing damage to the Radiant Wave Surger. Seeing his trump card virtually disappear and finding himself alone against Cornelia and the Lancelot, Zero ordered the Black Knights to retreat before fleeing from Imperial retribution. Giving chase, Suzaku quickly followed the retreating terrorist, although whether he caught up with him or not is unknown.

What is known however, were the casualties: the Britannians lost upwards of several hundred Knightmares, armoured vehicles and infantry all told, including General Alex, his personal transport being destroyed in an ambush laid by the Black Knights. Casualties for the JLF were estimated to be almost total, mainly from the destruction caused by the landslide engineered by Zero. Out of it all, the Black Knights could best be described as coming out unscathed, loosing only a small number of their Burais and a handful of their ground-forces.

A pyrrhic victory if there ever was one for Britannia.

Sitting in the opened cockpit, his feet resting on the open edges of the cockpit block, Ciaran tried his best to moisten his lips. The sun was now past it's zenith, bathing the earth in it's heat. The young man cursed the fact that he hadn't brought a canteen with him as he felt his throat dry up. He forced the discomfort aside as he tried to contact someone through his headset again. The noise of gunfire had receded in to the distance until Ciaran was only surrounded by unnatural stillness.

"This if Griffin One Actual to any Britannian units. Respond if you can hear me. Over."

Silence was the only answer so he tried again, his mood souring at the prospect of being stuck without water.. "To any and all Britannian units, this is Griffin One Actual. Respond! Over."

He was met with silence again, before a voice came through his ear.

"Ciaran! Is that you?" It was General Darlton, causing Ciaran's mood to rise.

"General! I am bloody glad to hear from you, sir."

"Oh, same to you too, son. How are you?"

"I'm fine. Lost my Gloucester though, and when I ejected, I landed some ways away from my unit. What about you, sir?"

Darlton let out a sigh before he replied. "In a word? Shit. I've lost nearly all of my forces, and from what I can tell, General Alex is dead and Cornelia's Knightmare is disabled. She's alive, thankfully, so that's some good news out of this whole affair."

"And the JLF?" Ciaran asked as his eyes scanned his immediate surroundings for any sign of the enemy.

"Routed. Near as we can tell, they've fled the mountain. But we can't do anything to pursue them."

"And the Black Knights?"

"Vanished. They fled when the Lancelot disabled their red Knightmare."

"All right then." Ciaran said with a sigh. "So any chance of a pick-up, sir?"

"We'll get something out to you soon, lad. I'm at the G-1 now, so I'll try and wrestle something up to help you."

"All right, sir. See you soon." The young man switched off his headset before resting his back against the seat of his cockpit, sighting gently as a soft breeze came by, gently brushing over his skin and making him close his eyes as he leant his head back to face the sky. The adrenaline had worn off now and he felt like taking a nap until held arrived.

A quick series of loud beeps snapped him back in to the world. Snapping his head back up, the young Briton slid down from his position, trying his best to avoid hitting the instruments inside. Leaning down, he tried to find the source of the beeping. Focusing on the main screen, he cycled through the various screens trying to find what was causing the sound.

Selecting a map of his immediate area, Ciaran found that the beeping was a proximity alarm. Judging from the position of the icons, roughly nine in total, they were in a position up-slope from him, roughly one hundred metres from him to the north-east.

There wasn't any IFF code attached to the icons though.

Keying his headset, the Captain contacted Darlton again. "General? Just a quick question: what's the status on that retrieval unit?"

"Just getting it together now. We'll be with you ASAP, Ciaran."

A cold jolt of dread shot down Ciaran's spine. Moving quickly, he scrambled out of the cockpit and vaulted over the side to land in a crouch on the ground before pressing his back against the side of the metallic object.

"General." He hissed out, even though there was no chance of him being heard. "I've got multiple enemy contacts, one hundred metres to my north-east."

"What?" The General replied, shock in his voice. "Ciaran, stay put! I'll get to you as quick as I can. Don't do anything stupid."

Leaning round the side of the cockpit, the young man's eyes trailed up the slope of the mountain, looking for any sign of who was moving up there. Curiosity got the better of him as he swung himself around the corner before sprinting to the nearest piece of cover, a large rock some fifty yards away from him.

Landing behind the rock, he crouched low as he looked up the slope, before unlimbering his pair of binoculars from it's pouch and bringing them up to his face, scanning the environment. Through the magnified lenses, he could see several heads bobbing up and down behind some foliage but not much else told him who he was facing.

He had to get closer!

Ignoring Darlton's words, he holstered the binoculars and quickly began climbing up the mountainside. Luckily the slope was a gentle incline, meaning he could stay close to the ground without exerting too much energy, and the numerous foliage gave him ample cover as he climbed up the slope, moving in a lateral manner to the unknown force. Spying a good piece of cover, he moved quickly to enter the small copse of trees.

The cover was the ideal spot for him: it was close to the path he guessed the unidentified soldiers would take, while stopping them from seeing him from the direction they were coming from. Crouching low behind a tree, Ciaran removed his pistol from it's holster. Moving his left thumb, he touched the safety catch before pressing it down, readying his firearm for action. Leaning forward slowly, he peered around the trunk and up the slope in front of him.

He could see nine figures moving around behind some foliage. They certainly weren't Britannian military. No Britannian unit he saw mustering for the attack wore black uniforms. And there definitely weren't any Japanese units attached to the operation.

It clicked slower than he wanted, but the realisation hit him: these were the Black Knights.

Moving quickly, he rounded the tree and began advancing up the slope, his pistol held in front of him. Running in a near crouch, Ciaran tried his best to keep out of sight as possible, sticking close to any shrubbery he came across. However, it looked like the black-uniformed soldiers were too engrossed in their own tasks to pay any attention to their surroundings.

He was about fifty metres down the path from them when he stopped behind a sizeable bush, ducking behind the foliage, mentally thanking Darlton for giving him the olive drab pilot suit. Using his right thumb, he slowly slid the hammer of his Webley back in to the firing position. He wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but the click of the hammer sounded louder than it should realistically have been.

Breathing in deeply through his nose, the young captain let out a steadying breath before moving from behind the bush, keeping his body low and his eyes trained on the area ahead of him. Coming closer, he could hear the people talking to each other loudly. Taking a risk, he raised himself up slightly as he made his way towards a tree near the path the Black Knights' were taking. When he was in a position where he felt that he wouldn't be seen, he lowered himself down to a crouch as he heard the group approach.

Listening over his breathing and the soft rustle of the foliage by the wind, he could the group approach his position. He couldn't understand what they were saying. Although how could he when they were talking in Japanese, a language he only knew... hell, he didn't even know the bare minimum. The tone of their voices told him all he needed to know however: they were grumbling to each other, a few raising their tone angrily. One of them, a woman's voice, quickly called out, obviously telling the group to quiet down.

Ciaran's breathing came out short and shallow as he heard the sound of their approaching feet. Hurried, but with not with a sense of urgency, like students walking between classes. They had no idea who would be near them, nor had any belief that they were in any danger.

In a word, they were cocky.

Letting out a shallow breath, Ciaran readied himself to move away. He had seen what he needed to see and discover what he needed to discover. Nine against one were horrible odds, even if he was armed, so his best option was to move away from the area and head back for the pick-up with Darlton's rescue unit.

He felt his legs tense up, ready to move him away from his position at the command. He shifted his grip on his pistol in to a one handed grip as he prepared to move-

A click near the back of his head was accompanied by the feeling of a warm gun muzzle being pressed against the back of his head.

"Don't move, gaijin." A heavily accented voice behind him said, no attempt made to hide the disgust as they spoke. "No stand up!"

"Fuck..." Ciaran said quietly to himself as he did what he was ordered to do, holding his arms out to his sides. A quick jab in his back from the gun told him to move forward out of the foliage and on to the path he was spying on.

On the other side of the bushes, the young man was greeted with a mixture of submachine guns, pistols and even a rocket propelled grenade pointed directly at him. He didn't flinch from the glares of outright hostility directed at him.

The man who captured him spoke swiftly to his superior, a young woman about Ciaran's height, with long hair the same shade of blue as Cecile's, and a cold demeanour as she pointed her submachine gun at the young man.

"Drop the pistol, Brit." She commanded tersely. Complying, Ciaran set the hammer back to it's safe position while snapping the safety back on before placing the pistol on the ground. With a clattering sound, the man who captured him kicked the pistol in to the under-brush before he circled Ciaran, keeping his weapon trained on him as he stood beside him.

One of the men beside the woman began talking to her quickly in hushed tones, keeping his voice low even as he kept his eyes trained on Ciaran.

"My name is Ciaran Forsyth." The young man said, interrupting the man's conversation and making him glare even harder at him. "I'm a captain in Viceroy Cornelia's Royal Guard, under the command of General Darlton. I'll say this now: if you plan to use me as a political hostage, then you're mistaken."

Stepping forward, the woman lowered her submachine gun. Drawing closer, Ciaran could see that she was scrutinizing him, her brown eyes looking closely at his pilot suit.

"Zero will know what do to with you." She said icily, before turning away and walking towards the others.

Ciaran stepped forward, opening his mouth to speak before his world exploded in to pain as the man who found him cold-cocked him with the butt of his weapon. The blow spun him half around, knocking his headset loose before he collided with the ground.

The last thing he saw before consciousness left him was the distant movements of armoured vehicles and a Gloucester heading to where his cockpit rested.

Inoue watched as the Britannian pilot hit the ground hard, his body falling like a marionette puppet with it's strings cut.

"Squad leader Inoue, what are we going to do about him?" Asato, the man who knocked the pilot unconscious asked, his gaze flicking between herself and the man on the floor.

"I saw we put a bullet in him." Saito Teika, the oldest member of Inoue's squad, growled out. The man was in his late thirties, with a permanent growth of stubble and twisted scar over his left eye. Apparently, he had lost his family in the Britannian bombings on Tokyo, although no-one was comfortable with asking the man outright if it was true.

"Squad leader, I don't feel right about killing a man we just knocked out, ma'am." Hirota Takeshi, the youngest member of the squad said, looking furtively at his superior.

Personally, Inoue had no idea what to do. They were on the clock here. If they missed the rendezvous, then they'd probably be stuck at Narita, and she had no idea how many more forces the Britannians had in reserve.

Thinking quickly, she made her choice.

"Look at his uniform." She said, drawing everyone's attention to the man lying on the floor. "Have you ever known a Britannian unit to wear green pilot suits?"

Collectively, the group muttered that no, they hadn't.

"So this guy must be from a special forces unit. That must mean the Viceroy is planning something special. So we're taking him with us. Now!"

"Yes, ma'am!" The squad called out, Teika slinging his weapon before hefting the unconscious man on to his shoulders. Moving quickly, the group made their way towards the rendezvous point.

As she passed the spot where the man hadn't fallen, something on the ground caught Inoue's attention. Kneeling down, she picked up the object; a headpiece worn by pilots to communicate. From the ear-piece, she heard someone frantically talking through it.

"... at your position, but we can't find you. Ciaran, where are you?"

Dropping the object, Inoue quickly used the heel of her boot to shatter the device before jogging to join up with her squad.

AN: Whoof! Holy crap this took a while. 25 pages. HA! This is the longest chapter, so far, for A Brave New World. And I managed to finish it off before I had to leave for work too! Wahoo!

Also, some good news: Code Geass: A Brave New World has reached two milestones: over 100 followers and over 100,000 words! This is the longest piece of fiction I've ever written.

But yeah. I was tempted to break this up as a two parter, but in talking with mrthischarmingman2, I agreed that after I had already done another two-parter chapter, then doing another right after might be a bit insulting. Even though I'd probably just post the second half immediately after the first.

As for the chapter: yeah, there are a few breaks from the canon on this one. Suzaku and the Lancelot don't launch immediately, Lelouch obviously doesn't have the complete trust of the Black Knights at the start, and there a few more things, most notably that Shirley's dad does get killed in the original canon. How that affects the story? *shrug* Only time will tell.

So, as always: read, enjoy, review. See you next time.