"We are at your position, but we can't find you. Ciaran, where are you?"
The request left Darlton's mouth quickly, agitation in his voice. He opened his mouth to speak again before the sound of crackling static burst in to his ear, making him wince with surprise. He tried switching his earpiece to various frequencies, trying to see if he could raise the young captain.
Nothing but static came as a reply.
Standing on what had to be the only unbroken ground in the Narita mountains, Darlton let his eyes scan over immediate area as the recovery team he had assembled began spreading out around Ciaran's abandoned cockpit, the equipment standing up like an obelisk.
"I want a full area spread!" Turning to address the men behind him, the general roared. "We've got thirty minutes until we have to withdraw, so let's get this done quickly."
A flurry of acknowledgements answered his order as the soldiers went about their business, quickly fanning out in to the surrounding brush. Turning away, Darlton swore to himself as he began stalking off to look for any signs of his young comrade.
He had told him to stay put, goddamnit! And Ciaran had been doing so well at following orders.
"So where the hell have you gone?" The scarred general asked to the disappeared young man as he let out a deep sigh.
The sound of a Knightmare approaching him from behind drew Darlton's attention, as he turned to see an approaching white Gloucester with rounded armour.
"Any luck, General?" Nonette's voice came through Darlton's earpiece. The general couldn't help but smile at the concern in the Knight's voice. He knew that she and Ciaran had gotten quite close during their time in Area 11, even if Nonette did end up causing him to go red in the face more often than not. But she treated him like a friend, so it was glad to see her here.
"Not yet, my lady. But we've only just started, so there's hope yet." He replied, smiling at her eagerness.
"Anything I can do to help?"
Darlton was silent for a few moments, thinking about what help Nonette could give in her Knightmare. Looking over the machine, he looked at the large optic on the right side of the head. He knew that the Bedivere was unique in that instead of a covered Factsphere like regular Knightmares. Instead it had a single, exposed optic that could switch between the various spectrum of lights that humans couldn't see.
"Can you scan the area for any heat signatures nearby? A hundred metres or so should do it."
Instantly, Nonette's voice perked up. "I'm on it!"
Darlton couldn't see what was going on with the Bedivere's optics, but from seeing how Nonette turned the machine from side to see, scanning the area for any heat signatures, he knew that it was working. Looking around, the general saw that he was the only one of the group not doing anything, so he began walking towards Ciaran's abandoned cockpit to see what he could tell from the silent piece of machinery. Rounding the metal construct, he knelt down as he found what he was looking: a deep set of footprints where Ciaran had landed when he came out of the cockpit. Turning in place, the scarred general followed the direction of the footprints. Standing up, he began following the tracks in the mud.
His days in the Britannian Special Air Service had taught him many skills in jungle warfare on top of those he learnt in the regular infantry. One of those skills was tracking. The best trackers could tell what condition their quarry was in, what they were carrying, and other things the hunter needed to know.
Putting his skills to work, Darlton focused on the footprints on the ground, following their trail in the ground. He could see that Ciaran had sprinted from his original position, taking cover behind a large boulder, then moving around it in a crouch then running quickly up the hill in a near enough straight line.
"Sergeant Adams!" He yelled out, not needing the earpiece as his strong voice rolled over the space between him and the chosen man. "I need three men to follow me, on the double!"
Darlton didn't wait for the reply as he moved up the slope, following the mental map in his head of the likely route Ciaran had taken. His long legs carried him up the slope in powerful strides as he focused on the route, so focused on finding his young comrade that he initially didn't register Nonette's voice coming through his ear.
"Darlton? Are you listening to me?"
"What? Sorry, Nonette. What have you got?"
"I just said that I did a thermal scan of the area. And I've not picked up anything. I can't find him."
The news made Darlton stop in his tracks, the sound of several pairs of feet coming up behind him.
"Do you want me to widen the scan area?" Nonette asked, the slightly morose tone of her voice telling Darlton that she didn't think it would do any good.
"No, it's all right." The general said as he began walking up the slope again, the three soldiers following behind. "I'm going to keep searching for him. You can head back if you want."
"I'll stay here, if it's all the same."
Darlton couldn't fight the smile that came to his face at the finality in the Knight of Nine's voice. He gave no answer as he continued, his path taking him through some more foliage until he came across a more well-trodden path. Crouching down, Darlton's black eyes scanned the area immediately around him, looking for any more footprints.
"All right, spread out." He ordered the men who accompanied him. "Keep your eyes open for anything suspicious."
"Yes, general." They said as one before they began to search the area.
Looking over the ground before him, Darlton recognised that the signs that a large number of people have been here in the area. Nine sets of footprints heading in one direction, all walking in the same direction to the south-west, before they stopped to be joined by two more pairs. Judging from the direction that one of the tracks came from, the general that it had to be Ciaran.
His suspicions were confirmed as his eyes caught sight of something in the mud. Reaching down, he picked up the smashed remnants of a standard-issue headset. They were mangled, splintered, but unmistakably Britannian.
"Oh, no." He muttered quietly to himself.
"General! I've found something." One of the soldiers called out, the man stooping down over something metallic in the mud which he proceeded to pick up. Darlton rushed towards him as the other two soldiers gathered around him. Holding his hands palm up, the soldier presented a dull metal Webley pistol with ivory handles.
The sight of it, which would have filled Darlton with dread, made him sigh with relief.
"What's wrong, general?" The soldier asked, looking at the scarred man in confusion.
"The safety is on and the hammer's decocked. Since there's no body, it's evident that Ciaran wasn't caught in a fire-fight, and the fact the pistol is set to safe then that means that he set it that way himself."
"So what do you think happened to him, sir?" Another soldier asked, looking around the area for any sign of the missing officer.
Darlton let his fingers rub over the slide of the pistol while he thought on the question. It was true that there was no evidence that Ciaran had been caught in a fight, but he doubted that Ciaran would be taken without a scuffle.
"I'm not sure." Darlton said, looking up and letting his eyes play over the environment. "But I don't think he's gone for a shit."
"Darlton, come in." Nonette's voice came in to his ear again.
"I'm here, Nonette. Find anything?"
"No. It's the same as before; I can't find anyone apart from you and your team." Nonette said dejectedly. "But that's not the problem. Nellie's calling everyone back to the G-1. Now."
Darlton didn't say anything in reply. He knew that the strike force was in a tenuous position. They didn't know where the JLF or the Black Knights had gone to and what their remaining strength was. Two key factors that could decide the outcome of this whole operation, and the Viceroy was playing it safe by pulling out.
"All right, we'll be there ASAP." Darlton said before addressing the soldiers around him. "All right, gents. We're pulling out. Head back down to the APC and get ready to move out."
"What about the captain, sir?" The final soldier asked, a look of confusion on his face.
Looking at the top of the mudslide, Darlton furrowed his eyebrows as he mulled over the question.
"Captain Forsyth is a resourceful young man. He'll be all right." Clutching the Webley tightly, the general turned and began moving down the slope. "Come on. We don't want to miss the pick-up."
On his way down the slope, Darlton began silently praying to himself, and to his missing young friend.
'Good luck to you, Ciaran. Stay safe."
Regaining his consciousness, the first thing Ciaran was aware of was that he could not fully see.
Well, no. That wasn't specifically true. The first thing he was aware of was the fact that he was in a moving vehicle. And he could see, but all he could see was darkness with tiny pin pricks of light.
"What the fuck?" He said louder than he intended to as he put his hands up to touch his face. As he did, the movement of his hands to his face brought the sensation of something hard and thin digging against his skin, bringing the memories rushing back of what happened at Narita.
"Oh, yeah. That happened." He mused to himself, before he felt himself being bumped up on his seat slightly as the vehicle he was travelling in, probably a truck, went over a bump, making him swear as he found himself flung from side to side, evidence that he was not wearing a seatbelt.
As he was jostled to his sides, Ciaran's shoulders slammed in to two people on his sides, causing cries of alarm from his partners.
"Baka!" One of them, an older male's voice roared in Japanese before being joined in by the voice of a younger male, this time in English.
"Watch it, gaijin!"
He heard a few more exclamations in Japanese, some seemed to be jeers while others were quiet calls of hatred, if his judge of their tone was right.
Ciaran didn't say anything as he righted himself, his other sense coming back as he felt a throbbing pain in the right side of his head. The memories of someone hitting him hard in the side of the face came rushing back to him, making him groan, one part in pain and one part in exasperation at his predicament.
"Fuck..." He muttered quietly as he let his head slump down, not making another sound as the vehicle he was in continued it's journey to it's destination. The other occupants on the van began talking, taking their captives silence as compliance from him, so several of them began talking more animatedly to each other.
Ciaran's silence didn't mean he was idle though, sitting in silence as he tried to focus on his immediate situation. Judging by the voices he could hear, he had to guess that they were the group who had captured him at Narita. Fidgeting with his wrists, he tested the strength of his restraints, confirming that they were a plastic zip-tie. Tough, but not unbreakable, if he remembered what he read online about them. Checking his legs by giving them a quick flex, he found out that they were unrestrained.
Feeling a bit cocky, Ciaran decided to test his restraints, twisting his wrists back and forth against each other, feeling the burn of the friction of the skin and sharp pain of the plastic digging in to his skin.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." A female voice said flatly. Her voice was loud enough for Ciaran to hear, but low enough for no-one else to hear, judging by the constant level of noise. Even though he couldn't see through the bag on his head, he knew that the voice was coming from directly in front of him.
In reply, Ciaran only held his hands up, or as best he could, in a placating manner before letting his hands fall against his lap, resigning himself to his fate and his head drop forward. As he did though, he became painfully aware of the steadily increasing pain in the side of his head, making him groan loudly in pain.
"Head hurt?" The woman asked, although it was hard for Ciaran to pick-up any form of sympathy in her voice, so he nodded his head, making him wince in pain. The sudden removal of the bag over his head was the only warning he got before his eyesight was filled with bright light, making him screw his eyes tight before he was certain he would be blinded.
Blinking his eyes quickly to get rid of the blotches of light that were swimming in his eyes, Ciaran's eyes found themselves looking at the woman who had captured him at Narita. Seated in front him, she could have been easily described as pretty; soft features, large brown eyes with long, shoulder length indigo coloured hair. Although right now, her features were fixed in a fierce scowl with a pistol in her hand which she rested on one of her knees.
"What's the matter, soldier boy?" The woman said testily, evidently not happy that Ciaran had woken up at all.
"My head hurts." Ciaran replied curtly, not wishing to start an argument with the woman.
Tilting her head sideways slightly, the woman's gaze focused on the side of Ciaran's head, which in turn made the young man aware of the feeling of liquid trickling down the side of his face. It wasn't enough to cause a major sense of panic, but it was still quite distressing.
The sight of the blood travelling down his head caused the woman's face to scrunch up in a look of disgust as she turned to talk to the man beside her, taking him out of his own conversation. The two spoke in hushed tones, although using their native language made it harder to follow. Casting the occasional glance at Ciaran, the man nodded his head before reaching in to a satchel bag that he had next to him, rummaging around quickly before withdrawing a small, metal case in his hands before moving to stand up in the cramped interior of the vehicle.
"Don't move too much." The woman said as the man began taking several pieces of cloth out of the box. Moving quickly, he began swabbing at the cut on Ciaran's head before binding it up with a patch of gauze and some bandages, working very easily despite the jostling nature of the vehicle he was in.
The medic began rooting through his satchel again before taking out a small, thin plastic box which he quickly handed to Ciaran along with a canteen of water.
"Take two. Now." The man said without any fanfare before taking his seat back next to the woman. Not wanting to argue, and feeling the pain in his head starting to increase, Ciaran opened the small box and took out two of the small pills that were inside it. They looked like any regular pills for pain-relief, but the throbbing pain in his head didn't let him argue so he quickly poured the two out on the palm of his hand.
Making sure his mouth was well lubricated with saliva, he quickly popped the two pills in to his mouth before unscrewing the top on the canteen. He was never able to swallow pills so he tried working his tongue to move the pills to his oesophagus before taking a large swig of water.
The plan seemed to have work as Ciaran felt the water and the pills go down his throat, but it still made his gag reflex go in to near overdrive, making him gag slightly. Swallowing, he forced the water and it's contents back down his throat, making him sigh in contentment as he kept it down.
The pain-killers wouldn't kick in immediately, so he just rested his back against the side of the vehicle he was riding in as he offered the box back to the woman in front of him. It was to his surprise that the woman shook her head.
"Keep it with you. You'll need it."
Ciaran nodded his head in surprise before placing the box in to one of the pockets inside his pilot suit. He took another swig from the canteen before handing it back to the man who was most likely the team medic who took it quickly before Ciaran settled back in to his seat as best he could.
The rest of the journey continued in relative silence, none of the people sitting immediately around Ciaran making any noise, either to him or to each other. He had left his watch back at the base, so he couldn't tell how long they had been travelling for, but it felt like it had to be well over an hour. They must have passed in to a rural district since, past the hum of the vehicles engine, Ciaran could faintly hear the hustle and bustle of a city or a town. The sounds didn't last long as the transport turned a corner and the noise began receding, until only the sound of the engine remained.
The loud sound of a large, metallic shutter being lifted open got Ciaran's attention as he began looking around the vehicle more closely to try and get a glimpse out of the vehicle. A strong arm across his chest stopped him from raising himself up as, looking to his side, he saw the older man from Narita give him a scowl as he pushed him back down in to his seat.
The sound of the vehicle stopping got everyone's attention as their heads turned to the door at the back. At a short command from their leader, the group in the truck all stood up, the two men beside him dragging Ciaran to stand on his feet. The door opened and Ciaran prepared himself to be blinded like the first time, only to open his eyes further in surprise at what he saw.
They were in a warehouse or something similar, it's high-ceiling supported by wrought iron beams, each one taller than a Knightmare and with a catwalk winding it's way between each beam. The room they were in had to be several hundred square-feet and laid out in a rectangular pattern.
But that wasn't what surprised Ciaran. It's what was in it.
There were Knightmares parked along one side of the area, roughly about three dozen of them, each one standing stock-still. To one side of them sat a score of large trucks, matt black and grey and surrounded by various crates and boxes.
And the number of people! Ciaran had only heard random numbers during the battle at Narita, ranging from fifty to roughly a hundred, but seeing all of these people.
There had to be at least two hundred people here! And by the looks of it, the majority of them were armed and ready for fighting. This was definitely something that Cornelia needed to be told about.
As he made his way out of the truck, the Briton became aware that many pairs of eyes were staring at him, each one filled with hostility as the looked at him as Ciaran was practically herded towards the inside of the building. Inside, he became faintly aware of a sound he probably should have expected to hear: people singing. It wasn't really in tune, and the fact it was in Japanese didn't make it any more sense for him to hear, but it wasn't definitely singing. The sound of victorious group.
It made him wonder about how Darlton and the rest were taking the outcome of the battle.
"Hey, Inoue!" Someone cried out, catching the woman's, and Ciaran's attention. The woman let out what could only be described as a sigh as she saw who was approaching her group. He was the same height as Ciaran and Inoue, if the annoyed looking woman was who he was addressing, but he had a much thinner build. He had a head of deep brown hair which was tried up with a red bandanna and had a wispy attempt at a goatee on his chin and a bottle of beer in his hand. His face had a very bright red tint to it, indicating that he was, in the best word, drunk.
The man was surrounded by a group of men and women who all looked equally as coloured as their leader was as the man began conversing with the woman who had just arrived. Ciaran had to admit that he wasn't the most knowledgeable on the Japanese language, but he had serious doubts that it had quite as many 'sh' sounds as this man used.
"Sho is thish the bashtard?" The man said suddenly turned to look at Ciaran.
The indigo-haired woman tried to say something to him, probably telling him to leave it, but the man waved of her words as he walked past her, almost literally shoulder-checking her out of the way.
"He doeshn't shay much, doesh he?" The man said out loud, although the Briton was sure that this man was not attempting to be subtle. He was, in the best words, sloshed.
The bandanna-wearing Japanese man stared daggers at Ciaran as he stood under guard. Or tried to stare daggers at him as he swayed gently back and forth, approaching the young man.
"Well, come on, you Brit bashtard. Shay shomething." The man slurred out. The stench of alcohol was on his breath, the smell hitting Ciaran full in the face, though he fought against the reflex to turn his head away in disgust.
"Tamaki, anata go yotte iru." The woman called Inoue said exasperatedly, rolling her eyes at her companions antics before twisting her head to the side, the smell of alcohol hitting her full force. Nonplussed, the man waved a hand in front of his face, a somewhat goofy smile on his lips.
The man replied in Japanese, making the already difficult to understand language even harder to comprehend as he slurred drunkenly, although the tone obviously showed that he was enjoying himself too much. His gaze then shifted to the prisoner, trying his best to look menacing while he was obviously shit-faced. "Come on, mate! Let's shee a shmile."
In reply, Ciaran decided to play to the man's image of him as a Britannian. Clearing his throat slightly, he crossed his hand over the other, holding the backs on his hands in a reverse version of parade rest while he shifted his feet to stand closely together. Straightening his back, he put on his best copy of the straight faced masks worn by the Grenadier Guards at Buckingham Palace.
Tamaki's arms dropped near instantly down his sides as his expression shifted to something that was a mix between anger and annoyance. "Oh, sho you're just another shtuck up Brit bashtard, are ya?"
No reply came, though the eyes of Inoue and the other guard flicked between Ciaran and the drunk Tamaki, probably guessing what would happen next.
"Yeah, you're one shtuck up bashtard, aren't you? No wonder Cornelia chose you. She's one shtuck bitch hershelf."
It was like a string had suddenly snapped as the man's words hit his ears. His passive mask fell away quickly, replaced by a snarl as he focused on the man before him. Before his guards knew what was happening, Ciaran sprung forward. Even though his wrists were bound together, his hands quickly found themselves clutched around the collar of the man's jacket before Ciaran's right leg shot upwards between the Japanese man's legs.
The Japanese man quickly let out a loud, high-pitched gasp of air as Ciaran's shin collided with his crotch, making all of the men watching the scene groan out loud in sympathetic pain. Tamaki began to fall backwards, his hands shooting to cover his groin, as the Briton let go of his grip on the collar. As the man fell, Ciaran quickly moved forwards, approaching him from the side before bringing up his foot to connect with the other man's face in a hard kick that nearly flipped him over.
Snapping out their daze and acting quickly, a few of the Black Knights rushed forward, tackling Ciaran bodily to the floor as their comrades body hit the ground. His vision swam for a few moments as he felt his head connect hard with the floor before blinking his sight clear.
"Hold him!" Inoue roared, drawing a pistol from a hidden holster on her belt and racking back the slide before advancing towards the prone figure of the captured officer, growling as she spoke to him. "You're going to pay for that, you bastard."
"Inoue!" A deep voice called out from behind, or rather above Ciaran. His eyes widened as he saw a masked figure, wearing an immaculate, deep purple suit and cape.
"Zero." Ciaran hissed out through gritted teeth, as the masked terrorist advanced towards him. With the loud clack of his heels, Zero's feet came to rest very close to the young Briton's head as the masked man looked down at him.
Zero spoke out a command, prompting two of the men who had tackled Ciaran to raise him to his feet, turning him around to face the masked man. Looking at the man's visor, Ciaran grimaced as he realised that he wasn't even able to see his own reflection in mask's surface. "So, we finally meet face to face then, Captain."
Ciaran didn't say anything, only letting out a growl of disgust as Zero's hand suddenly shot forward and grabbed his chin forcefully. Through the combination of the positioning of Zero's hand and Ciaran's disgust in being handled so roughly, the young man couldn't help but bare his teeth at the man.
With an angry snarl, the young man shook his head free, shaking loose Zero's grip. "Take your fucking hands off me, you bastard!" He roared as he stared down the terrorist, even as he felt himself being restrained more tightly by the two men on his sides.
If his words or movements had any effect, the man standing in front of him gave no indication that he was surprised as Zero put his hands behind his back under the large cloak behind him.
"Well," Zero said, his voice level but Ciaran was certain he heard a twinge of humour in his voice. "Looks like I was wrong about you, Captain. You're no lapdog at all."
Ciaran didn't say anything as he heard someone, the Inoue woman, move around from behind him to approach Zero. He only scowled at the reflection of himself in Zero's mask.
The woman began muttering something to Zero, her eyes fixing Ciaran with a cold stare. She was quickly silenced though as the masked terrorist held up a hand to shush her.
"We're keeping him alive. He could be of use to us." Zero said loudly, confusing Ciaran slightly as he had spoken in perfect Japanese before.
A small voice in Ciaran's head said. 'He's got something planned for you.'
"Take him away." Zero commanded as he turned around, swirling his cape behind in a painfully overly dramatic fashion. A harsh shove told Ciaran to start moving, even as his eyes tracked the masked terrorist as he moved away from him towards one of the edges of the building. As he watched Zero leave the large space, Ciaran's eyes opened in shock as he saw a red-haired young woman approach the terrorist, obviously to talk to him. Even from where he stood though, Ciaran could see that Kallen's eyes were opened in adoration.
"Poor girl..." He whispered quietly, dejectedly, to himself.
He doubted her hearing was that good, but as soon as the words left Ciaran's mouth, the red-head turned her head to look at him. The young man didn't know how to react when he saw Kallen's eyes shift from adoration to surprise as she saw him being led away. She looked at him for only a second before turning her attention back to Zero as Ciaran was lead away to another part of the building they were in.
His trip through the building was a bit longer than when he was being led through the Viceroy's palace for the first time, although he put that down to the fact that he was just walking to his destination, rather than taking an elevator like he had before his first interrogation.
Letting his eyes roam around the corridor he was being led down, Ciaran tried to figure out what type of building he was, and maybe try and figure where that was. The walls were drab grey concrete, with various types of pipes, wires and grills set in to the structure. No major help there, although he had to guess it was some sort of industrial complex. Looking at the ceiling didn't help either, since it was practically the same as any other ceiling out there: squares of what looked like polystyrene divided by metal bars.
So he had no clue where he was and where he was being taken.
The irony was not lost on him as a small smile came to his face.
Ciaran and his guards continued walking on for several more minutes before they reached a metal door set in to the wall. It wasn't anything as foreboding and robust as the door he was shown through when he first arrived in this world. In fact, it looked... down right ordinary. Craning his neck up slightly, he saw the words 'MANAGEMENT' stencilled in black, block letters above the door frame.
The screech of metal on concrete as the door, evidently older and less used than it first appeared, made Ciaran and (to some degree of satisfaction) his guards wince as the door was opened.
"Get in." One of the Black Knights said, giving Ciaran a shove towards the door, which made the young man roll his eyes at the originality of his words.
"You could have said 'please', you know?" Ciaran muttered under his breath before beginning to walk inside. He was stopped as one of the men grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. The hard glare from the older man who Ciaran recognised as one of the men who captured him, before watching the man draw a knife from his belt. The young man followed the blade as the man pressed the tip of the blade to the bottom of the topmost part of the zip-tie before he jerked the blade upwards, snapping the plastic and freeing Ciaran's wrists.
Rubbing his wrists, Ciaran looked around, slightly confused about what to say, finally settling on "thanks" before entering the room. As he entered, he moved his hand against the wall past the door frame looking for a light switch. When his finger brushed against his target, he flipped the switch on, bathing the area in light as the fluorescent lights above his head flickered in to life.
The room was quite standard. Relatively spacious, with Ciaran guessing it was thirty feet by thirty feet, making it more spacious than the first room he was interrogated in. It was also filled with the standard stuff you'd expect to see in an office: two desks set back to back in the middle of the room with matching chairs, an array of filing cabinets set against the back wall, along with a water cooler and even a couch. There were two large windows against two of the walls, both at a right angle to each other, telling Ciaran that was most likely at the corner of the office. That was all he could tell from the room however as the windows were boarded up tight, letting only thin slivers of red light in to the office.
"Enjoy." One of the Black Knights said, although Ciaran didn't bother turning around as he heard the door screech shut behind him before locking.
Unperturbed, the young Briton quickly strode over to the closest window on his right, determined to find out what he could about his predicament. Closing on the window, he strained to see through the sliver between the wood and the window-frame. Peering through the gap fielded little information: he could just see the side of another industrial-type building, although a part of Ciaran's mind told him it could possibly be the same building he was in. A look out of the second window gave the same amount of information as a look out of the first: very little.
Sighing in frustration, Ciaran ran a hand through his hair as he looked around the room. No computers. No phones. No way to contact Darlton and the others. Although he knew he couldn't exactly pin-point his location. He was stuck here.
Moving over to the couch against the wall, the young man couldn't fight the grimace that came to his face at the state of the furniture. It looked sturdy enough, but it was covered it a serious layer of dust, unlike the other pieces of furniture in the room, and it looked like it had been used as a buffet for moths more than once. Giving the couch a swift but hard kick, Ciaran turned his head to avoid the dust that began to fly it.
"Could be worse." He said to himself as he sat down on the couch, spreading his arms to rest on the back of his seat. The pain from his head injury was coming back again so he reached in to his jacket pocket to take out the small packet of pills Inoue gave him. Looking around, he spied the water cooler. It looked like it had fresh water in it, and the increasing pain in the side of his head began to override Ciaran's sense of reluctance.
As he was about to push himself off of his seat, Ciaran was stopped by the sound of the door opening again. Paused in the process of moving off the couch, Ciaran's eyes instantly zeroed in on the form of Zero as the masked terrorist walked in, his hands obscured by his long, flowing cloak. Ciaran couldn't suppress his contempt for the man as he practically glided in to the room, like he owned the place.
Which, in retrospect, he probably did.
"How are you feeling, Captain?" Zero asked glibly, the reflective surface of the mask turning to look at Ciaran as he pushed himself off the couch to stand upright.
"Been better." Ciaran replied just as glibly.
The terrorist in front of him nodded in reply, before removing one of his hands from under his cloak to reveal a sizeable water-bottle, probably three litres by the size of it, before placing it on the surface of the closest desk.
"Squad leader Inoue told me that she gave you some pain-killers to deal with your injury. It seemed I would be a bad host if I deprived you of your medicine." Zero explained with some small measure of cordiality. Ciaran didn't buy it for a second as he quickly moved to quickly take the bottle off the desk before turning to face away from the man before him.
With the bottle in his hand, Ciaran swallowed, or rather strained to swallow the pill he took from the packet before downing it with the water, setting the bottle on the desk. Behind him, he heard Zero pull back one of the chairs and proceed to sit down in it.
"While we're here," Zero said, putting on a more placating tone of voice. "I was wondering if we could have a talk?"
Swallowing the liquid in his throat, Ciaran let out a satisfied sigh, before he spoke without turning around. "The only one I'd even consider talking to is that girl. Kallen. She's the only one of your lot I respect. Beside that Inoue anyway."
"I'm afraid that you won't be talking to her for a while, captain."
Turning his head slightly to shoot Zero a side-eye glance before speaking again.
"If you want me to join your group, shove it. I don't work with terrorists."
A short snort came from the masked man. "That's rich. Coming from a member of the Britannian army. Wasn't it your army that-"
The sound of Ciaran slamming his fists against the table as he spun around fully to face Zero, a look of anger on his face as he snarled out, "I will not be given a lesson in morality by a terrorist."
Zero let out a short bark of laughter. "Your general ordered the Saitama ghetto liquidated."
"You used the hostages at Lake Kawaguchi as human shields!" Ciaran roared, pushing himself off the desk to stand upright. "So don't take the moral high ground with me, mate."
"How can you, as a member of the Britannian military, say that with a straight face?" Zero asked patronisingly, sounding like he was talking to nuisance child.
Ciaran was quiet as he thought back to that day. He had stood silent as Cornelia ordered the inhabitants of that ghetto slaughtered. Stood by and done nothing.
"I was a lieutenant on that day." The Briton said with a tone of finality. "Even if I said anything against the plan, it still would have carried on regardless of my protests. I will not deny that I am as guilty of letting that atrocity take place as the Princess was."
The young man leaned forward as he rested his knuckles on the surface of the desk, his face taking a stony expression.
"But at least I'm not masquerading as something I'm not."
Watching Zero's back visibly stiffen as he spoke gave Ciaran a small sense of satisfaction.
"What are you talking about?" The masked man asked.
"You parade yourself as being a 'hero for justice'. But I have to ask: whose form of justice are you using: yours, or the Japanese?"
Standing back up straight, Ciaran crossed his arms over his chest as he looked down at the seated man before him.
"Your first target, your very first target, was Clovis, an Imperial Prince and the Viceroy. If you wanted to cripple Britannian rule in this country, you would have gone for any other target. Maybe start off small: a local politician or two. Maybe a police official or two. But instead, you choose to go right for the very head of government. That tells me one thing about you: you've got a grudge, pure and simple, against the Britannian Royal Family."
For his part, Zero said nothing, simply shrugging in reply. "So what if I do? Does it change anything?"
"It changes everything!" Ciaran replied, chuckling as he spoke. "You're using these people. These people who want their God-given freedom, and you're using them to seek revenge. You're nothing but a fraud."
"A fraud?" Zero asked, standing up. The young Briton knew that the masked man was ready to speak but he didn't give him a chance to continue as he felt his anger rise.
"These people admire you, they put their trust and their hope in you. But you're playing them like a fiddle. They look to you to give them the future they could only dream of, but we both know that you'll give them nothing for the sort. Their fight is for your own selfish reasons, nothing more. You can't liberate these people, because you never intended to!"
The screech of the door opening filled the room as two Black Knights rushed in, submachine guns held ready, before they were stopped by a curt command from their leader. Ciaran paid them little attention, his blood pounding through his ears and his breath coming out in harsh, ragged breaths. His fists were clenched tightly, his knuckles going white.
One of the guards yelled something, lifting his weapon to aim it at Ciaran before Zero silenced him by holding out his arm to stop him.
"You think these people can stand up against Britannia alone? An empire that rules over a quarter of the globe? How can anyone, any group, stand against that?" The masked man asked, his voice not betraying any emotion.
Ciaran was silent for a few minutes as he fought hard to reign in his anger. When he felt that he was better in control of himself, he shifted to stand straight, his eyes fixed squarely on the visor in front of him.
"Anyone can stand. It's human nature to want to stand their ground in the face of adversity, for what they believe in. But you've set these people on the path to destruction because you made their choice for them."
"What do you mean?"
"You killing Clovis set all of this in motion." Ciaran gestured around him, obviously in a metaphor, although the two guards looked around them in confusion. "Your actions brought Cornelia here. Your actions forced the Black Knights to become a militant group-"
"The Black Knights fight for justice." Zero interrupted him.
"A group for justice does not use innocent people as fucking human shields!" Ciaran roared, feeling the anger return before calming himself down. "You gave them the easiest, and most destructive path: you gave them no alternative but to fight. And they will fight. And they will die. And their blood will be on your hands. Not just the blood of your followers, but the blood of the people you seek to 'liberate' will be on your hands and yours alone."
"You don't know what you're talking about." Zero said, but there was no conviction in his voice.
"Aren't I? What happens if you win? What if you kill Cornelia and Euphemia and completely destroy Britannian rule in Area 11? You'd be fucked either way. You're newly freed Japan would be stuck between the forces of the Chinese Federation in the West and Britannia in the Pacific and the Homeland in the East. You'd stand against... what? Several hundred thousand, probably several million soldiers, with a couple of hundred souls and a couple dozen squads of Knightmares? It wouldn't be a war. It'd be a slaughter!"
Ciaran must have unknowingly been channelling his inner-Shakespearean actor, since his yell became more of a bellow, making the two guards shrink back slightly at the volume of his voice. To his credit however, Zero stood his ground, standing stiffly as the young man came down from his rage.
Zero was silent for a moment before he spoke, his voice cold and evidently annoyed. "I'll send someone in with pillows and a blanket. You'll get fed when everyone else is fed. Try not to do anything stupid now, Captain."
With an exaggerated twirl of his cape, the masked terrorist quickly moved towards the door.
Ciaran didn't say anything as he watched the man leave the room, quickly followed by the two guards, one of whom closed the door with a resounding clang.
As the sound of the door closing faded, the young man let out a loud sigh.
"Good job, Ciaran. Pissing off your jailer. Smart move." He chastised himself before sitting down on the couch again. Out of all the things he had done in this world, barring moving away from his cockpit pod, telling Zero that he was in the wrong was a bad move. Dangerously so.
But it had to be said. In his own world, it was a fact of life that so many revolutions would fail. France overthrew their king Louis only to replace him with Napoleon (although that was a bit of a give and take really). The Russians overthrew the tsar and his family only to replace them with Lenin and Stalin and their brutal reign. Rhodesia became Zimbabwe and made Mugabe their president.
He knew that it was a human right to disagree with a brutal government. Hell, even to oppose an oppressive government was a human right. But to go straight in to a violent revolution? Ciaran didn't agree with that for one minute. Violence was only ever to be used as a final resort, when all other alternatives had been exhausted.
Speaking of being exhausted, Ciaran let out a yawn as he felt the last of the adrenaline leave him. He hadn't been able to take that nap he intended to take before he was supposed to be picked up and unconsciousness was no substitute for a proper sleep.
Shifting his body to lie down on the couch, or as best as he could with it's size, he let himself fall in to sleep.
Slouching in one of the chairs in the smoke room of the Viceroy's Palace, oblivious to the darkening sky outside, the purple-haired woman sitting there with her feet crossed on a stool and a shot-glass of whiskey in her hand did not resemble the proud visage that Princess Cornelia normally exuded. She looked tired and irritable as she raised the glass to her mouth, the ice inside clinking quietly as she downed a portion of the alcohol.
Across from her, her companions were in no better moods. Guilford was hunched over in a contemplative pose, staring over the ridges of his half-moon glasses at his own glass, his chin resting in his palms. Beside him, Darlton's large form was reclined backwards, his head tilted backwards over the back the couch, his closed eyes looking up at the ceiling with a slight grimace on his face. Across from them sat Nonette and Dorothea, the Knight of Nine reclining against the side of the couch with her arms crossed over her chest, staring off at the far wall, while the Knight of Four sat slumped in her seat looking at her shoes. All of them wore morose expressions on their faces.
The only one not present was Euphie, the young princess agreeing to take care of the press release along with one of the members of the Purists, Villetta Nu.
Cornelia let out a sigh as she brought her glass to rest against her forehead before Nonette spoke up.
"Well. Today certainly sucked."
No-one made any actual words of confirmation, only making general muttering noises. Cornelia however made no noise in reply before she spoke.
"Is there any chance of stopping the news from reaching Pendragon, Guilford?"
The bespectacled knight shook his head that he didn't know. "I don't know, your highness. We've got all of the officer's after-action reports. But if news reaches the Homeland before we send them our side of the story, then that puts us in a bad position."
The Second Princess could only let out a groan in exasperation. "I should have planned for the Black Knights. I should have known that they would be there. But I didn't, and now I've lost two battalions and too many good officers."
Six pairs of eyes turned to look at Cornelia, Darlton still keeping his eyes closed but it was obvious that he was listening as his face softened slightly. They all knew who she was referring to.
"I'm sure he'll turn up, Nellie." Nonette said, a genuine smile on her face. "We've got soldiers combing the mountain for any soldiers who went missing, so they're bound to find him sooner or later."
"But if we didn't find him, what is the chance of the search teams finding him?" Darlton spoke up, shifting forward to lean forward, letting his arms drape over his legs, fixing Nonette with a cold stare. The champagne-haired woman didn't say anything in reply as she turned to face away from Darlton.
Everyone knew that the General's comment was not meant as an insult, only a fact. But the fact that Nonette, nor anyone else, didn't counter Darlton's comment showed how strung out they all were by the experience.
Downing another portion of her drink, Cornelia placed the cup on the table near her, hitting the wood loud enough to draw everyone's attention but not enough to break the glass.
"All right, everyone. It's been a tough day. I think it might be for the best if we all turn in early." Cornelia said, massaging her forehead. "We'll sort out this whole mess tomorrow."
A chorus of agreement met her idea, all except the Princess moving to stand up from their seats. As they did, a knock came from the other side of the door.
"Who is it?" Guilford called out, looking at the door in confusion.
"It's Spencer, my lord. Margrave Jeremiah has returned, sir." A man's voice came through the other side of the door. Looking at his Princess, who simply nodded, Guilford called for the man to enter. The door opened, revealing a short elderly man in a stereotypical butler's outfit. Beside him stood a very haggard looking Jeremiah Gottwald, his turquoise hair unkempt and tangled.
"You're dismissed, Spencer." Cornelia said while motioning for the nobleman to enter the room. Jeremiah came to stand near the table in the middle of the room as Spencer closed the door behind him.
Standing in front of them, Cornelia could see that, even though he was standing as straight as one of Pendragon's Royal Guards, Jeremiah was obviously nervous about something.
"What do you have to report, Gottwald?" The Second Princess said coldly.
The nobleman didn't look directly at her, his eyes focusing on a point just above her head before clearing his throat, obviously unsure of how to proceed.
"Margrave. What. Is your report?" Cornelia asked, obviously annoyed by the man's silence.
He was quiet for a few more moments, taking a deep breath before speaking. "Your highness, we searched all over the mountain including the town, what remained of it, and..."
The words died in his throat as he let his eyes drop.
"God damn it." Darlton muttered to himself angrily, standing up from his chair quickly before leaving the room, practically storming out. Dorothea, like everyone, was surprised by his reaction but quickly followed him, almost running to try and catch up with the General, calling for him to wait. Behind their exit, Nonette, Guilford and Jeremiah could only watch as Cornelia shifted her position to sit properly on the seat before nearly folding double, her hands coming up to clutch at her hair.
"Your Highness?" Guilford asked, reaching a hand tentatively towards her.
"Get out." Cornelia hissed sharply but loud enough for them to hear.
"Pardon?" Her Knight asked, looking at the Princess in confusion.
"I said get out!"
The roar shocked everyone in the room, Guilford and Jeremiah practically scrambling to leave the room as quickly as possible. Nonette however stayed behind, only moving from her seat to sit closer to Cornelia.
"Nellie?" She asked, worried over her friend's outburst.
"Get out, Nonette. Just get out!" Cornelia tried to yell out, but the power in her voice was sapped by the tears that were beginning to form. "Just... leave me alone."
"Now you know I'm not going to do that, Nellie." Nonette said, her voice soft and her tone comforting as she moved off her seat to crouch down next to the distraught princess. "What's wrong?"
"In less than a month, I've nearly lost my sister and someone I hold close to me." Cornelia's voice was becoming hoarse as tears began flowing more freely. "It's like seven years ago all over again!"
Nonette didn't say anything as she put a hand on to Cornelia's back, rubbing it gently up and down. She knew that Cornelia had cared about Ciaran, but to see her tearing up about him was not something she expected. But she had known how hard Empress Marianne's death had hit her, and it wasn't too surprising that Cornelia would bond with the young Briton the way she had with Marianne. They were quite alike in some respects: a commoner who had managed to work their way to stand shoulder to shoulder with Britannian royalty.
Leaning over, the Knight of Nine wrapped her other arm around Cornelia's front to take hold of her shoulder and pull her in to a hug as Cornelia spoke again.
"I am completely unable to protect the people I care for. Why am I even here if I'm so useless?"
Not saying anything, Nonette simply pulled her closer, continuing to stroke her friends back softly.
"It's going to be all right, Nellie." She finally said, rocking herself and Cornelia gently from side to side. "It'll be all right."
Her words didn't seem to have any effect on the weeping Princess, Cornelia's only reaction to turn her body and fully hug her friend as he cried in to her shoulder. For as long as she had known Cornelia, Nonette knew that grief wasn't an emotion that was easy to express for her. Between the rules and protocols forced on her as a princess and her time as a general, she had been conditioned to never show any form of weakness in front of others.
Only two people had managed to bring the real Cornelia to light: Nonette and Lady Marianne. The former because she would not stop pestering the Second Princess to show any other form of emotion except a scowl and she had forced her to watch one long binge-fest of romantic comedies when they were at the Colchester Imperial Military Academy.
The latter however never got to see how much she had affect Cornelia. It was only after Marianne's death that Cornelia first let loose the tide that she was holding back. Nonette never saw it herself, but she had heard of it from Euphemia, and it was enough to shake the young girl so it was enough to shake the Knight of Nine.
Nonette couldn't think of the right words to say in this situation, even though she liked to think that she was the person who people would come to when they were upset. So instead, Nonette did the only thing she could think of. She just kept her arms around Cornelia's shoulders as she gently rocked her body back and forward, stroking Cornelia's hair as she let her friend continue weeping.
In the kitchen of the warehouse they had commandeered, the Black Knights were still riding the high of victory in their first pitched battle. The more religious members of the group had held a small memorial ceremony to remember the dead, which some of the more boisterous of the group had quickly turned in to a wake. The party had been held in the main assembly area, with the soldiers dancing, singing and drinking around the feet of their Burais.
Well, some of them were. The original members, the Magnificent Seven as they were called by the group, were seated in the kitchen area. They all wore the standard-issue black uniform of the Black Knight, and were chatting happily to each other. And by chatting to each other, they were actually ribbing Tamaki for nearly getting the shit kicked out of him by their captive, and it brought no small amount of joy to Kallen's face to watch it happen. As usual however, Ohgi was tending to a steaming pot of chicken curry on the stove, looking more like a house husband than a terrorist.
"You do this every time, Tamaki." Minami said with a smile, pushing his glasses back up his nose as they nearly fell off. "Do you remember that time you tried to pick up that girl in that nightclub?"
"Thut up, Minami." Tamaki lisped out, his nose covered by a large bandage, before Kent joined in with the mocking.
"Oh yeah! Her boyfriend nearly beat the living shit out of you before Minami and Ohgi stepped, remember?"
"Jutht thut up." The wounded man said, feeling exactly as bad as he looked. The glare he got from Inoue made him feel even worse.
"What did you expect, Tamaki? He's a member of Cornelia's Royal Guard and you know how loyal they are to her."
All of the good mood seemed to be instantly sucked from the room as Inoue began berating Tamaki. Aside from Kallen, Inoue was the only female member of the original group. It hadn't given her any handicaps before, but as the Black Knights began expanding, more women began joining and it wasn't to Kallen's surprise that Inoue became a sort of mother-figure for them. She was smart, she was pretty and when it happened, she was downright terrifying when she got angry.
"And that's not the worst of it. You've all seen that bastards pilot suit."
"Yes, Inoue. We have. You've pointed it out several times already." Minami said, taking a sip from his coffee before Inoue continued speaking.
"I'm going to point it out because it's important, damn it!" The indigo-haired freedom fighter said, slamming her palm on to the table to get everyone's attention. "No Britannian Knightmare pilot wears a green pilot suit. Ever. I've had intelligence check and no unit has it. No unit that we know of at least."
"So what does that mean then?" Ohgi asked, the man coming over from the stove, wearing an off-white apron over his uniform.
"He has to be a special unit or something." Inoue said, dropping her tone to dangerous levels, drawing everyone in. "I'm thinking SAS. Or maybe something we've never heard about."
"You what?" Kent asked, not believing her in the slightest.
"It makes sense, you know." Ohgi answered, after mulling over the idea. "I heard that General Darlton used to be in the SAS and the SBS, so it wouldn't surprise me if Cornelia's got more special-forces types in her personal guard."
"Eff-bee-eff? Tamaki asked as Ohgi moved back to the stove, his nasal bandage not helping his question.
"Special Boat Service." Kallen answered, drawing all eyes on her. She had been unusually quiet for a while, the only one not to join in the conversation. She was usually one of the people to talk the most.
"Everything all right with you, Kallen?" Minami asked, leaning forward to rest his arms on the tabletop.
"Yeah, I'm fine." Kallen replied a little bit quicker than she intended to.
"It'th that Britannian bathtard, ithn't it?" Tamaki lisped out, inadvertently making Kallen smile at how stupid he sounded, before she nodded in reply.
"Do you remember me telling you guys that a Britannian officer tried to move me from my cell to another cell when you all came to rescue me?"
All of them nodded their heads, confused at what see was getting at. It was Minami that clicked fast than the others on what she was getting at.
"Wait. Are you saying that that guy is...?" The bespectacled terrorist gestured in the direction he knew the officer had been taken.
Kallen nodded.
"Yeah. He's the one who tried to rescue me." The red-head said flatly, not wanting to dance around the issue as her friends fell in to stunned silence. The resulting looks from the group made Kallen question whether she was in the right to just be straight up about the issue.
"Let me see if I've got this right." Kent said, placing an elbow on the table before he began rubbing his forehead with his fingers. "This guy... tries to rescue at Nagano, but then willingly gets in to combat with you at Narita?"
"He probably had orders to kill her." Minami said, sounding quit pleased with his own idea as the others nodded their agreement.
Kallen wanted to agree with him, but thinking back on her meetings with the soldier, she really had to question that idea. At Nagano, the captain had shown actual concern for her well-being, checking to see that she wasn't injured.. Even when she had started kicking him, he hadn't lashed out, only setting her in a more restrained position.
Even when she faced the captain at Narita, she didn't get the killing vibe that she got from other Knightmare pilots. That was further proven by his attempts to hit the Guren with his lance: all the hits were to it's legs, shoulders and arms. He had even offered her a chance to surrender, which was something only one other pilot she had faced had done before.
"Squad Leader Ohgi?" The voice of one of the young recruits who was posted on guard rotation approached the group, snapping Kallen from her thoughts and distracting all of the group from their conversation. "Zero says that it's time for the prisoner to be fed."
"Yeah, I'm on it." The apron-wearing terrorist said, taking a bowl from a shelf before moving towards the stove his pot was simmering on. Besides the large black pot was a smaller pot, and from the smell of it, it was filled with rice. As he was filling the bowl with the food, Ohgi began to speak. "So who's taking the food to this guy?"
"Well it's sure as hell not going to be Tamaki." Kent said with a smile which prompted the injured man to flip him the finger.
"Um, actually, Squad Leader." The guard said, obviously unsure about how to proceed. "Zero said that it should be Commander Kallen to take the food to the prisoner."
Everyone in the room stared at the young man in disbelief at his words before six pairs of eyes slowly turned to look at Kallen, her face showing the same level of confusion as everyone else in the room.
"Di-did Zero say why?" Kallen stammered out, finally managing to get the speech centres of her brain working again.
The guard only shrugged. "I'm just telling you what Zero told me: 'Get Kallen to give the prisoner his food.'"
The confused looks on everyone's didn't lessen as Ohgi finished filling the bowl he held before handing it to Kallen. The red-head didn't take it immediately though as she was still in shock over the order, resulting in Ohgi having to nudge her arm several times with the bowl to get her attention, holding the food practically right in front of her face when she snapped out of her shocked state.
"Thanks, Ohgi." She said quietly as she took the offered bowl, looking at the porcelain bowl filled with white rice, cooked chicken and various vegetables in a deep brown sauce. She stared at the food for a few seconds before she lifted her head to look at the others.
"You sure you want to do this, Kallen?" Minami said, looking at her sympathetically before Kallen nodded her head.
"Zero said I have to do it, then I have to do it." The teenager said stoically, before grimacing slightly as she felt her stomach knot up and then relax quickly. "Ohgi, could I get another bowl please? I'm pretty hungry."
The apron-wearing terrorist nodded his head quickly as he went to fix up another bowl of curry for the girl as Inoue stood up and walked up to the Kallen.
"Here. Take this." The indigo-haired woman said as she unholstered her pistol before fixing it in the waistband of Kallen's skirt, keeping the handle visible over her jacket. "Be careful."
"I will." The red-haired teenager said with a firm nod of her head as Ohgi returned with her bowl of food along with a pair of chopsticks and a fork. The addition of the latter took her by surprise as she arched an eyebrow at it.
"I doubt the guy knows how to use chopsticks." The pompadoured man said with a shrug.
"Do you want one of us to walk you their? Just in case?" Kent suggested as he pushed himself out of his chair before Kallen shook her head.
"I'll take you there, Commander." The young guard said, gesturing a thumb over his shoulder as Kallen began walking towards him. Moving to the side, the guard led her down the various hallways towards their destination. Throughout the journey, Kallen couldn't help but wrack her brain to try and think of why the prisoner would want to talk to her. He had tried to kill her at Narita. But at the same time, he had tried to move her to safety at Nagano.
"We're here." The guard said, gesturing to a metal door flanked by two more guards.
"Has he tried anything?" Kallen asked in as stern a voice as she could, knowing her role as the commander of the Black Knight's Knightmare squads put her at an important position in the group.
"Nothing of note, Commander. Zero met with him when he was brought in. They had quite a bit of a shouting match, if I'm honest. But he's been quiet ever since. One of the supply unit guys came in with a blanket and some pillows, but that's about it."
"Right. Open up then." Kallen said, looking at the door.
"Yes, commander." The older man said before moving to open the door. Kallen couldn't help but grimace at the sound of the door being pushed inwards, the teenager moving quickly to enter the room.
She honestly didn't know what she expected to find, but it certainly wasn't to find their captive lying down on the couch before propping himself up on one of his elbows to look at her. The man looked exactly as she remembered from Nagano: dark brown curly hair, thick stubble and a scar on his red right cheek. He was wearing the same drab green pilot suit he wore that day, although this time, he had the front zip opened to just below his chest revealing his torso. Kallen couldn't believe the man had done that, although as she entered in to the room proper, she felt the heat hit her in the face.
"Oh, is it dinner time?" He asked, a small smile on his face as he pushed himself to sit up properly on the couch. There was a hint of satisfaction in Kallen's head as she saw that he wasn't as tall as her mind told her he was.
"It's chicken curry. You better eat it, because it's all you're going to get." Kallen said as she put one of the bowls on to the top of the furthest desk before placing the fork alongside it.
"Oh, I've not had a good curry in a long time." The man said happily, standing up from his seat, pulling the zip up to below his neck as he did so.
The admission caught Kallen by surprise as she watched the officer move to take his seat at the desk. "You've had curries before?"
The prisoner looked at her in confusion as he picked up his fork and the bowl. "Well... not Japanese curries anyway. I have had Indian, Chinese and Thai though."
"How?" Kallen asked, finding the concept a little bit too strange to comprehend.
Again, the man looked at her in confusion. "Restaurants and cookbooks. Those things do exist in Britain, you know."
Kallen didn't say anything as she nodded her head. "I've been meaning to..."
Her question died in her throat as she saw him lean over the table, his right hand held towards her, the man expecting her to take it in a handshake. In his left hand, he was holding both the bowl and the fork.
"Oh, sorry." The man said, looking a bit embarrassed for interrupting her. "It's just that I've realised that we've never actually formally introduced ourselves."
Kallen looked at the outstretched hand like it was some kind of alien appendage, before letting out a sigh. Britannians were so strange.
"Kallen Kozuki." She said taking a hold of his hand.
"Captain Ciaran Forsyth." The man said, giving her a smile before leaning back to sit in his desk, replacing the bowl in to his right hand. "Now let's eat."
Kallen nodded as the man enthusiastically began mixing the rice and curry together before eating it happily. In return, Kallen clasped her hands together, just like her mother and brother had told her to do. "Itadakimasu."
The Captain looked up at her gesture a small smile, before he returned to his meal, practically wolfing it down. He paused the shortest moment between bites to speak. "So you wanted to ask me something, Kallen?"
The red-haired girl looked at him in surprise, her chopsticks held ready in her hand before she spoke. "If you're British, then why are you in the Britannian army? Let alone with Princess Cornelia's Royal Guard?"
Captain Forsyth stopped eating mid-chew, before finishing the food in his mouth. He put down his bowl before leaning back fully in his chair, his eyes looking at a point past Kallen's head on the door behind her. He was obviously deep in thought as he tapped in fork slowly on the rim of the bowl, his brow knitted with his thinking.
Kallen watched as he closed his eyes before leaning his forward and sighing softly. Opening his eyes, she was surprised to see his light green eyes seeming to bore in to hers.
"Only three other people in Japan know this but," Kallen had to lean forward as the man's tone took on a more conspiratorial tone. "I'm descended from an old Britannian noble. The man who covered the Royal Family's flight from the British Isles."
Kallen wracked her brain to remember her history lessons. Britannian history was always filled with the exploits of the Empire after they fled the Motherland, but so few of them actually mentioned the Flight.
"Duke... Duke Hector Forsyth. Right?" Kallen asked, unsure about her answer, only for a smile to come to her face as Captain Forsyth nodded.
"Aye, that's the one. Although I'm not a direct descendant, mind you. I'm a generation or two removed, but that was enough."
"Enough for what?"
The man let out another sigh as he put his fork to the side, before putting his elbows on the desk-top and resting one hand over the over. "There were some factions in the EU who thought my blood-line could be used to try and destabilize the Britannian forces attacking Europe. Something about... oh, fuck, I don't even remember what it was. Something about destabilizing Euro-Britannia with a coup or something."
Kallen felt her brow furrow in confusion, but she let the Captain finish his story.
"Then the Britannian Intelligence Agency must have caught wind of it because soon I've got them practically knocking on my door. My parents told me to escape and... so I did."
The last part was said with a hint of sadness that Kallen could only have missed if she were deaf, but she decided not to touch that topic as she asked her next question.
"So how did you end up with Cornelia if you knew the Britannian Intelligence Agency was after you?"
"It just sort of happened. A part of me said that the safest place I could be was to be right under the BIA's nose, but I didn't want to risk going to the Homeland, so I just kind of went travelling, trying to find the right place to lay low. I ended up here because of... well, I'd always wanted to go to Japan." The man said with a shrug and a smile.
"But you ended up in the Royal Guard of the Viceroy?" Kallen asked, sceptical about the whole idea.
"I met with one of the maids of the Palace when I was going around the Settlement. She agreed to take me for some food in the Palace kitchen then, well, I kind of got a bit lost." Forsyth began rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "One of the guard teams caught me. They took me before Darlton, then I met Lord Guilford and the two Princesses and... well, the rest is history."
"And Princess Cornelia keeps you in her Royal Guard, to protect you?" Kallen asked, the whole idea sounding alien to her.
"No-one would touch dare touch a member of her Royal Guard, especially if he's one of her officers. It was the safest place for me."
Kallen couldn't help but nod her head at the logic. It was the same logic her father had used to protect herself and Naoto from any overzealous nobles who took offence at her status as a mixed-breed daughter of a Britannian noble.
"What about you?" The officer asked, picking his fork back up as he commenced eating again. "What's your story?"
"Why do you want to know?" Kallen asked, shooting him an angry glare, to which the man simply shrugged.
"It makes for polite conversation. It's the least I can hope for from your group. You're obviously mixed-race, so how come you're with Zero and not the Britannian army?"
"What did you call me?" The girl asked.
"Mixed-race. I mean, that's what you are. I'm not going to use the term 'mixed-breed'. It's just... not right, in any way."
The words struck Kallen hard. It was true that she'd never heard anyone who was part Britannian and part-wherever-else be called 'mixed-race' before. Certainly, it sounded a bit better than 'mixed-breed', but she didn't see how it changed anything.
"Just because you feel like telling your story, doesn't mean I'll tell you mine." She said testily before returning to eating her meal. Across from her, Captain Forsyth didn't say anything except shrugging before returning to his meal too.
They ate in silence after that, neither one looking at each other. It was the sound of the man putting his fork across the lip of his bowl that drew Kallen's attention. Looking up, she saw him fixing her with a soft but unwavering stare.
"You need to leave the Black Knights."
Kallen's immediate reply was to make a spluttering sound as she began gagging on her food. "What kind of question is that?"
"It's not a question. It's a request: leave the Black Knights. For your own safety."
"Why would I leave the Black Knights? Zero has done so much for us. He's helped us." Kallen said angrily, glaring at the man.
"He helped one group of people. Once. And then he used them as fucking human shields!" Captain Forsyth countered, his face shifting from a kind look to something sterner.
"Britannia invaded and destroyed Japan!" Kallen countered.
A short bark of laughter stopped Kallen from storming out of the room as she watched her companion shake his head as he laughed.
"So that's it, isn't it? You joined him, not for justice, but for retribution. To smite your enemies in the fires of war and then when you stand in the ashes of what you fought to protect, you can stand tall and proclaim victory!" The man raised his arms dramatically at the last words of his sentence as his voice became something like an old-timey actor would use and it pissed her off.
"What are you saying?" Kallen hissed out, her fists clenching.
"Zero sees you as a weapon. That's all." Captain Forsyth said, leaning forward as he gave her a stony look. "If he thought of you as an equal, he'd use your half-Japanese heritage as a way to help the Japanese. But no. He only cares for the fact that he can use you as a weapon, a tool. Nothing more."
"That's not true!" Kallen roared out, slamming her fists on to the desktop, her anger dulling the pain. Behind her, she could faintly hear the men calling for but she quickly shut them up with an order in Japanese.
The man in front of her was unfazed by her outburst however as he kept talking. "So what happens if you do win? Let's pretend that Britannia won't try to get their territory back, or that the Chinese Federation won't try and claim Japan for themselves. What happens then? Will you stay here and help rebuild Japan?"
"Of course not. The Black Knights will keep fighting for justice." Kallen said proudly. She knew that Zero hadn't said anything as such, but she knew that was his plan.
Captain Forsyth leant back as he closed his eyes, his face softening before he spoke softly. "And there it is."
"There what is? What are you talking about?" The teenager asked, confused and angry at the same time.
"Cruelty begets cruelty, war brings war and death only brings death. You are doing nothing to break the cycle. You're just replacing one group of violent people with another group. At least the Britannians are honest in why they do it."
"We are honest!" Kallen cried out.
"No, you're fucking not!" Captain Forsyth replied loudly, standing up quickly, his chair falling behind him to clatter loudly on the floor. "Because if you were 'Knights for justice', the thought of war would be abhorrent to you! You wouldn't even dream of it."
"Why wouldn't we?" Kallen asked sternly.
"Because, where is justice in a war? You can preach about it all you want at the beginning, and you can say 'We were in the right' when the fighting is over. But when you fire that first shot, when your 'valiant' leader makes that declaration of war, that all goes out of the window." The man brought his hands to rest on the table, leaning forward to stare at Kallen. "When you fire that first shot, you have no idea who's going to die, who's children are going to be bombed, who's lives are going to be ripped apart and who's hearts are going to be broken."
Kallen was taken aback by his words as he continued speaking.
"If you were knights for justice, you'd do the right thing, the thing that should have been done at the very beginning: sit down and fucking talked! Then you would have realised that the right thing for you to do, the just thing for you do, would be to make sure that no-one has to go through this ever again."
The red-haired terrorist couldn't help but stare at the man in front of him. She had thought that Zero had spoken with conviction, but this man... he meant every word of it. She could hear his contempt for Zero's words and she could hear the hope in his last few sentences. His eyes even seemed to be pleading with her to listen to him.
It was a surprise to her that when she spoke, it actually pained her to say the words.
"I'm sorry, Captain. But I won't leave the Black Knights. I have to do this, and I cannot forgive Britannia for what they have done to Japan."
She picked up her bowl and chopsticks and turned around to walk towards the door. She hadn't made it more than a few steps before the man called out to her.
"Kallen!"
Turning her head to the side, she could see, out of the corner of her eye, that he had a sad smile on his face.
"You may not be able to forgive Britannia, but I forgive you."
That was a phrase that Kallen had not expected to hear, so she didn't say anything as she knocked on the door to get the guard's attention. She didn't respond as she walked out of the room, the guards looking at her in confusion and ignoring their questions as she moved past them, following the steps she took back to the kitchen. She found her friends still talking to each other as she moved past them to put her utensils in to the sink. She must have put the bowl down a little bit too hard because when she turned around, she saw that everyone was looking at with a concerned look on their face.
"You okay, Kallen?" Ohgi asked.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." Kallen replied, a little half-heartedly. "I'm just a little tired is all, so I'm heading to bed."
"What did the prisoner want?" Inoue asked her as she turned to leave the room.
"Nothing important. I think Zero just wanted him to meet the best of us, that's all." Kallen replied with a shrug. "I'm sorry, guys, but I'm really tired."
"All right. Good night, Kallen." Inoue said, all the others calling out with various forms of 'good night' as Kallen turned to leave the kitchen and headed to her room. The fact that she was the ace pilot of the Black Knights allowed her certain liberties, the main one being her own room to sleep in, far away from the noise in the hangar and it had enough amenities in it .
Inside, she stripped off her uniform before tossing it to the floor, leaving her in just her underwear. Like she did when she was in her more stately home in the Settlement, Kallen removed her bra and slid under the covers after she had switched out her light. She buried her head in to her pillow as she tried to sleep.
But as she fell in to sleep's embrace, those three words kept repeating in her head.
"I forgive you."
AN: Holy shit, this took a long time to get done. Why did this take a long time to get done!?
Well, I will tell you why. There was just soooo much planning and theory done for what could be said, what could be done. It was just... ugh, so frustrating. I don't know how many times I would bring up the Open Office page and just stare at the page as I just thought on what to say. Ugh. Well, it's done now. So that's all there is to it. Also, I would have posted this up earlier today, but unfortunately I got called in to work to cover someone's shift and I didn't get off until 5, so... there's that.
Now for the subject matter. I will say this now: I do not like Zero. I hate him as a character. He's well-written, I will not give him that, but I absolutely detest revolutionaries in fictions. I don't think I actually need to say anything more since I've practically written down what I think of revolutionaries. Obviously, as Ciaran is put in to the Code Geass timeline when he is, and in the position he is, he obviously doesn't know about Lelouch's actual motives.
And Kallen... again, it's what's written. In terms of a revolutionary movement, Zero missed such a fucking huge opportunity to use Kallen's half-Japanese/half-Britannian heritage to try and garner some support from the Japanese, and possibly even some more liberal Britannians in Area 11. But no. She's just used as a weapon solely, and I hate it!
There's also the fact that because Clamp Studios did so little in the way of backstory for Britannian rule in Area 11, we don't know if there were any peaceful attempts at making the lot of the Japanese people better. We don't know if there was. We don't know if there were attempts by sympathetic Britannian politicians to try and give them some sort of concessions for the Japanese. We just don't know!
I think, if anything else, this is just my hate for revolutions showing. I mean, as a student of history, if we look at historical revolutions, there has probably been only a handful of revolutions that have not resulted in the people who wanted freedom being controlled by a group of people who were exactly the same, or worse, as the people they other-threw. I named a few examples in the chapter. Also, whoever gets the connection to a certain TV program in the chapter, except for you-know-who (you know who you are), will get a digital cookie.
As for Cornelia, well... how would you feel if you had lost so many important people but weren't able to show it because of your station in life? I mean, to all those who have watched Code Geass, you know how Cornelia reacted after what happened to Euphemia after the SAZ Massacre.
So yeah, this chapter was a challenge for me. I hope I've lived up to your expectations for what I've been doing and what you expect of me, so please read, review, and most of all, enjoy.