The day following the battle at Narita mountains, and Ciaran's first full day in captivity, dawned the same as it always had for the inhabitants of Area 11, both Britannian-born and Japanese-born; the darkness of night giving way to the soft orange hues of dawn as they revealed the pale blue of a morning sky.
If he had been able to, Gilbert P Guilford would have been able to appreciate it. He enjoyed the morning, the bespectacled Knight would readily admit. In the life he lead, acting as Cornelia's right hand man and her main bodyguard, he didn't get to enjoy it. He didn't often get to sit down in a nice chair, with a nice warm cup of coffee, black with two sugars, and just watch the sun rise. It always a nice moment.
Today was certainly not one of those days.
Standing in one of the large intelligence gathering rooms in the Viceroy's Palace, Guilford was overseeing what could only be described as a massive amount of data gathering as over fifty technicians sat at computers, combing over various CCTV footage from the hours following the battle of Narita. The combination of video and camera footage had been taken from the routes that the Black Knights had been expected to flee that area from. Originally, the routes had been designated as likely escape points for the JLF, but with the unexpected arrival of the other group of terrorists shifted their attention.
Even though the Princess had given him several hours sleep, he had awoken earlier to oversee the whole endeavour. He was never one to sound boastful, but he had always possessed a better eye for details. That's why he was put in charge of this endeavour.
So here he was, sitting in an uncomfortable chair in a brightly lit room, staring at a screen with nine different segments, each showing images and videos from nearly a hundred different cameras which changed every ten seconds in a far too much detail, while the backs of the heads of sixteen technicians were facing him.
Taking his glasses off his face, Guilford pinched the bridge of his nose as he cleaned the sleep that was in his eyes before letting out a yawn. Replacing the glasses on his nose, he then reached over and grasped the china coffee cup on the desk in front of him before bringing it up to his lips, taking an appreciative sip of the black liquid.
If there was one thing he could count on, the man mused to himself, was good coffee.
Looking at the digital display on the clock, he grimaced as he saw the time.
07:35
They'd been here for two hours now.
"Do we have anything yet?" He asked the room, not really caring who would answer him.
"Not yet, my lord." Someone replied, the only thing Guilford really noticing was that the voice was female.
He knew that the Princess and he were asking a lot from them, having to go through over twelve hours worth of footage from nearly a hundred different angles, for anything that look remotely suspicious.
"Have we had any luck trying to find vehicles similar to the ones that attack a Nagano?" Guilford asked, again not caring who answered.
"No luck so far, my lord." A man replied.
"Figures." The Knight said, slumping back further in his chair. Zero was smart, so there's no way that he would used the same type of vehicle twice. But there had to be give-aways to what type of vehicle they would be using.
Leaning forward, Guilford rested his arms on his knees and steepled his fingers as he began thinking. The vehicles would have to be large, large enough to hold either at least three Knightmares or over two dozen soldiers, if the numbers from Narita were anything to go by.
Standing up out of his chair, the Knight addressed the room. "All right, change of plans. We're not looking for the same vehicles from Nagano. Look for any large vehicles capable of carrying either several Knightmares or numerous soldiers. Military or industrial vehicles are our likeliest bet."
"Yes, my lord!" The room nearly resonated with the call as the technicians went to work, scanning through the images and videos.
Sitting back in his chair, Guilford allowed the ghost of a smile to come to his face as he picked up his coffee to take a drink. Even without the caffeine in his system, he suddenly felt energized.
Having purpose really did do a good job at sharpening the mind.
Michael Robertson hated the morning shifts. He hated them with a passion.
Getting up before the crack of dawn to do maintenance on the Knightmares and other vehicles, taking various bits apart and putting them back together to make sure they still worked.
It was fucking tedious.
Standing outside one of the side exits, leaning against the wall in the designated smoking areas, if anyone was watching him, they would see a tall, thickset man dressed in the orange overalls of the Palace engineers with close cropped hair and a severe scowl as he brought a cigarette up to his mouth before taking a long drag from the stick.
He had been one of the best in the Britannian Intelligence Agency, one of their best operators. He'd spied on people from the EU, the Chinese Federation, hell, even from Britannia herself. And when he'd been told that he would be working with a the specialist Section Nine, he was excited. Section Nine carried out all the major dirty work, the true cloak-and-dagger stuff.
And yet here he was. In Area 11, hanging around the Second Princess and her retinue, shadowing some young punk who wouldn't stick out in a crowd.
Now that guy had disappeared after an operation in the mountains near the Tokyo Settlement. The scuttlebutt was that he had been captured by the terrorist group that suddenly appeared at Narita.
Bullshit. He had probably just gotten lost, so he didn't really care.
The ringing and vibrating of his phone in his pocket got his attention. Blowing smoke out of his nostrils, Michael shifted the cigarette in his mouth to rest at the corner of his mouth before taking the phone out of his pocket and bringing it up to his ear.
"Robinson here." He said half-heartedly, not really caring who it was on the other side of the phone.
"It's V." The masked voice at the other end of the line said, jolting Michael to attention. He knew the voice had to be put through an enhancer of some form since the voice at the other end sounded something robotic but also... childish, at the same time. Michael did not like it one bit.
"I want a situation update, Agent Robinson."
Taking a moment to throw the cigarette out of his mouth, Michael followed the request. "Director. I've been tailing the boy as close as I can get for a month now, and have been in contact with the surveillance team."
"And?"
"We have not found any evidence that he is connected to CC or to the World of C, sir." Michael said with a hint of finality mixed with fear.
"Are you sure?" The voice asked in reply, not caring for the other man's words.
"I'm quite positive, sir."
"And my sources say that Target F has been taken captive by the Black Knights. Is this accurate?"
Michael swallowed audibly at the question. "It's... hard to say, sir. Princess Cornelia and her staff have not been very forthcoming with the answer, to her soldiers or the press, so I can't say whether that's definitively happened or not."
The voice on the other end didn't say anything in reply. Michael had to guess that the Director was thinking things over, although from the other end of the phone, the man was certain he could hear other voices quietly talking to each other.
"Agent Robinson?" The Director asked, catching the spies attention.
"Sir?"
"You are to stay in your post and keep watch on Target F. You will report if and when he returns to me, and you will step up your investigation in to whether or not he is connected to the World of C. Is that understood?"
"Understood, sir." Michael replied, doing his best to swallow his fear at the unspoken threat in The Director's words, thankful when the person at the other end of the line disconnected.
The spy let out a deep sigh as he pocketed his phone, leaning backwards fully against the wall behind him. He had never met The Director face to face, no-one had. But he terrified everyone. The rumours about him were many, ranging from him having his own private army to a task force of cyborg soldiers. No-one knew what was true about him, and frankly, no-one wanted to find out.
He was this mysterious figure who never showed their face, but always made his presence known, and always in the worst ways possible.
He was a monster, in the worst possible sense.
Reaching in to his pocket, he pulled out his pack of cigarettes, jostling one of them free from the packet, ready to use. Michael lifted it from the case and was ready to put it in to his mouth, the taste of the filter just brushing on to his lips, when the sound of a door opening caught his attention.
"Robertson!" His immediate superior, the blonde haired Technician Derek Matthews, called out to him, a look of annoyance on his face. "Your break finished three minutes ago. Let's get a move on!"
Opening his mouth to let out a retort, the only sound from Michael's mouth was a simple sigh as he dropped the cigarette and crushing it under his heel. He was not in the mood to argue.
"Right, sir. Coming now."
In one of the many classrooms at Ashford Academy, the teacher, a plump woman in her late forties, was droning on about chemistry, saying how some chemicals could be harmless in minute doses but lethal in large quantities.
Although to be honest, Lelouch was only half-listening. He had geassed the woman a few days ago to ask her what she would cover in the syllabus that would be important for the mid-term exams. It wasn't anything spectacular or difficult, the exiled Britannian prince definitely sure that he could easily pass the test. So it was only for courtesy's sake, he was anything if not a gentleman, that he made a show of paying attention by jotting down notes.
In actuality, Lelouch was thinking of ways to deal with his current situation. He knew he had several things to deal with:
The first was how to take advantage of Cornelia's losses after Narita. He wasn't sure on the exact number of losses, but from what he had seen, the loss of men and machines would have to substantial. Whether it would weaken his sister's hold in Area 11, Lelouch wasn't sure, so he would have to be more wary with that issue.
The second issue was Kyoto, the financial and material backer of all terrorists groups in Japan, which now meant they were the back of the Black Knights too. He knew that he couldn't say no to the group, especially if he wanted to keep the Japanese on his side. He set Inoue to the task of gathering intel on the group, especially it's members. If his suspicions were right, then he might be able to use his true identity as an advantage.
The third issue was that damn Captain Forsyth! Lelouch felt him grind his teeth at the memory of the man. Lelouch had been used to the self-righteous nature of those who served Britannia, but this man took the cake. That he, a member of the most oppressive military in the world and a follower of one of Britannia's most brutal commanders, had the nerve to lecture him on his actions.
"Hey, Lelouch." Rivalz's concerned voice preceded the blue haired youth waving a hand in front Lelouch's face, making him turn to look at his friend who wore a worried expression.
"You all right, buddy? It's a bit weird to see you look stuck." Rivalz whispered, trying to avoid their teacher's attention.
"Yeah, I'm fine." Lelouch replied, his voice lowered to the same pitch as his friend. "Just wanting to make sure I've got everything down right."
The sound of someone clearing their throat loudly drew the duos attention as, looking over to the front, they saw their teacher give a quick but stern look before returning back to her lecture. A small chorus of giggles came from a few of the girls before Lelouch simply drowned them out as he half-listened to the lecture and returned his mind back to the real issue at hand: how to deal with his captive.
His first course of action, Geassing him, was out of the question. Their first meeting had proven that that wasn't a course of action he could pursue.
Torture him? That was a possibility. It would definitely get the Captain to tell him what he knew about Cornelia's defences.
But there were problems to that, Lelouch lamented as he wrote down another series of chemical symbols on the paper in front of him. Cornelia would certainly not be happy if she found out that one of her officers had been tortured, so there would be a very high chance that she would step up operations against the Black Knights.
History was a very good indicator of how riled up Cornelia would get if someone took one of her toys.
So what could he do?
The sound of the bell ringing to mark the start of the lunch break caught his, and everyone else's, attention. Looking, Lelouch saw the teacher put her book away before she addressed the class, even as her students stood up and began packing away their supplies.
"All right, everyone. I'll see you next week. And remember to review chapters sixteen and seventeen for the midterms."
A chorus of "Yes, Miss Richards" came as a reply from the class as some of their number began leaving, Lelouch among them, the black-haired youth being trailed by his friend.
"Man, were you doing that thing where you sleep with your eyes open again? You know that creeps the crap out of me, Lelouch."
"Ah, sorry, Rivalz." Lelouch apologised, giving his friend a disarming smile. And he meant it too. Rivalz was nothing like the regular spawn that Britannia produced: kind-hearted, friendly, and just generally a nice person.
As they walked down the corridor to the student council's room, Lelouch found his troubles take a bit of a back-seat as he chatted with Rivalz about the midterms and waved off the lads attempts to get Lelouch to agree to let him cheat off him, for what had to the fourth time since the tests had been announced. It was a bit of a welcome reprieve but it definitely got Lelouch thinking on what Captain Forsyth.
"But at least I'm not masquerading as something I'm not."
Lelouch knew that he hadn't meant him being a prince in exile. There were only two people... three people in Japan, Lelouch had to remind himself, that knew he was really an exiled Britannian prince. But even still, that single sentence shook him.
"Hey, Rivalz." He said to his companion, snapping the blue-haired youth out of his tirade on how friends should let friends copy their answers. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure. What's up buddy?" Rivalz asked, looking at the taller boy in mild confusion.
"I've been thinking... where's Shirley?"
Rivalz looked around him in confusion at the question, not noticing the look of relief on his friend's face as Lelouch noted his classmates absence.
"I don't know. I remember Milly saying something that she wouldn't be here in the morning. Should we go ask her?"
Lelouch quickly nodded his head in reply as he followed Rivalz to the student council room. He still wasn't comfortable telling his friends about him really being a prince. Even just thinking about it brought him out in a cold sweat. There far too many outcomes for Lelouch to worry about, and he didn't want to risk loosing his friends.
The walk to the student council's room was all a bit of a blur, with Lelouch and Rivalz falling in to their same old routine of banter. Nearing the room, Lelouch couldn't help but feel that there was something odd in the air. For starters, the area was quiet, far quieter than normal.
Nearing the door, the duo became aware of muted conversation, a complete contrast to usually riotous cacophony of noise, which perturbed the pair. Pushing down on the door handle, Lelouch decided to treat the situation like plaster: get it done with as quickly as possible.
"Hey, guys what's..." Lelouch's words died in his throat at what he saw inside: Milly, Nina and Nunnally were gathered around a clearly distraught Shirley, her cheeks streaked with still wet tears and her eyes were red. "Shirley?"
"Ah, big brother. You wouldn't believe it." Nunnally said, turning her chair around and lifting her head to look up at where her brother's voice came from, her closed eyes somehow managing to lock on to Lelouch's own.
"Why? What's happened?" Rivalz asked, moving past the dumbstruck Lelouch to stand near the girls.
"Her dad was at Narita." Milly said sympathetically, not taking her eyes of her orange-haired friend as she continued rubbing a hand across her shoulders.
"He was killed?" Lelouch asked, somehow managing to keep the tone of surprise in his voice down at the news. Luckily for him, Shirley shook her head at the news, although her mood wasn't lightened by the news.
"No, he wasn't." She croaked out, her voice made hoarse by her crying. "He said he was ordered off the mountain by some soldiers. But, still I... I..."
Shirley's words got cut off mid-sentence as she quickly pushed herself up from her chair, her quick action shocking Milly and Nina as she weaved past Rivalz and Nunnally and straight towards Lelouch. Before he had a chance to react, the black-haired teenager found himself captured in a tight embrace from Shirley.
Looking up from the bawling Shirley, Lelouch expected to see all of his friends sniggering or to hear Milly make a snide joke about his current predicament. If was able to, he'd have relished in what he saw: Milly's face was forlorn as she watched the scene unfold, and Rivalz and Nina refused to look up from their feet at the display. The only positive look that he was getting was the look of sympathy that he was getting from Nunnally. It wasn't obvious to see from the blind girl's face, but it was there.
Unsure of what to do, Lelouch did the only thing he could do, and let Shirley continue to hug him as she cried on to his shoulder.
Outwardly, he was still the same calm, if a bit confused, self he always was. But inside, his mind was going a mile a minute. He had always known that his actions would draw civilians in to the fires, but... but he hadn't thought on who those civilians would be.
He had only met Joseph Fenette a few times, but he had always struck Lelouch as a genuinely nice man. He was kind hearted, friendly to everyone, and from his meetings, Lelouch didn't have any inklings that the man followed Britannia's line of thinking.
And to see Shirley this upset...
"Hey, guys. Wha... what's going on?" Suzaku's voice drew everyone's attention, the Japanese youth entering the room, obviously surprised at the scene before him.
"Hey, Suzaku. Did you hear about what happened at Narita?" Rivalz asked, managing to stop himself from sounding too exited about what happened.
"Yeah, I heard." The teenager admitted as he moved to stand near his friends, looking at Lelouch and Shirley's embrace in understandable confusion. "Cornelia tried to go after the Japanese Liberation Front, then the Black Knights hit too. Apparently they brought down a part of the mountain."
"Yeah. Well, it turns out that Shirley's dad was in the area when it happened." Milly finished the news for him.
Suzaku's green eyes opened wide in shock, his face taking on a hint of red as he became angry. "What? Was he...?"
A quick shake of Shirley's head dissipated the anger somewhat, as he let out a relieved sigh. "I'm glad to hear it."
Lelouch was about to say something when he felt the phone in his pocket vibrate, the tinny sound of his chosen ringtone telling him who was phoning him.
"Who's that, brother?" Nunnally asked sweetly, her ears picking up the sound of the phone before Lelouch pulled the musical device out of his pocket.
"It's something important I need to take care of." He made to move away but found himself held tightly by Shirley. "Shirley, I'm really sorry about this but I have to take this phone-call."
"Oh, come on, Lulu." Milly huffed, pouting at the exiled prince's words. "You have to do that now?"
"No, it's all right, Milly." Shirley said, sniffling gently as she lessened her grip on Lelouch. "I just... I just needed to do that. I..."
"I understand." Lelouch said with a soft smile. He knew the feeling, far too well. "This is really an important call, but I'll be back as quickly as I can. Okay?"
A nod of Shirley's head told him it was okay as she moved to take her seat again amongst her friends, which Lelouch took as his cue to leave. Without another word, except a quick wave, he left the room, moving as quick as he could to somewhere he could take the call in private. It took some walking and avoidance of other students and faculty before he found it; an empty staircase which led to the upper levels of Ashford Academy.
When he was sure he was alone, he flipped open his phone and answered the caller. "Q-One. What's the situation?"
The voice of his classmate, ace pilot and, possibly, his most fervent follower, Kallen, came in reply.
"Zero. We've just got confirmation that the video has been delivered to the couriers and is on it's way."
"Very good. Anything else?"
Silence filled the air for a few moments before Kallen spoke. "Zero... everyone's getting a bit restless with this guy around. He pestered his guards to give something to do to stop him getting bored, and some of the guys are getting worried he might try something."
"Try something?" Lelouch asked, confused by her line of reasoning.
"Like he'll try to escape or something. Inoue's gotten a few of us think that he's from a special operations unit or something, and that's gotten them worried."
"I see." The student-slash-terrorist said. He had to admit that Captain Forsyth was something of a loose end, and it did worry him a bit.
"So what are we going to do?"
Lelouch was silent in thought as he went through possible scenarios to follow, but so many of them were things he could not do if he wanted to keep Cornelia away from his throat for a period of time.
"Also," Kallen's voice interrupted his thoughts again. "What's with this girl with green hair hanging around? She's been sitting in the kitchen area for half an hour now and it's creeping some of us."
"Girl with green...?" C.C.!
'Oh, that damn witch!' Lelouch seethed to himself. He knew she had disappeared again, doing God knows what, but for her to turn up at the Black Knight's warehouse? Why? Why did she have to be there? Where a member of the...
Lelouch stopped himself from getting angry as a thought popped in to his head.
"Q-One, listen to me closely. That person is to be allowed to see the Captain, at a time of her choosing. Understand?"
"Is she an interrogator?" Kallen asked, confused by the idea.
"In a sorts. Just let her go about her business. Understand?"
"All right, Zero. If you say so."
"Anything else?" Lelouch asked.
"No. No, there's nothing else."
"All right then. Goodbye, Q-One." Lelouch said, pressing the disconnect button on the phone before pocketing the device. When he felt the phone settle in his pocket, he leant back to let his shoulders rest against the stonework, letting out a sigh.
Sitting at the desk facing the door, Ciaran was trying to make the best of a bad situation for himself. He had to admit that the Black Knights were genuinely helping in that respect. Not by much though. They had given him a newspaper and a pen to pass the time, after a lot of pestering from Ciaran, but that was about it. He'd have been pleased with the gift if it wasn't for the fact that the paper was a tabloid rag that only seemed to cover the 'achievements' of celebs he hadn't heard about, literally, or remotely cared about.
However, the situation wasn't helped by his lack of sleep, since he felt as haggard as he felt. It wasn't the fact that the couch was uncomfortable, which it was. He just wasn't able to fall asleep. It wasn't from paranoia. Even if he was an admittedly heavy sleeper, the Briton knew that there was very little chance of any of the Black Knights sneaking up on him with the noise the door to the office created.
He was beginning to worry about the Princesses, the two people who agreed to be his adoptive family. He had disappeared without a trace and a word, just like his entry in to this world. He didn't want to think about what Cornelia and Euphemia were going through, especially Euphemia. She and Ciaran had gotten close, and even to imagine what she must be going through...
It didn't fill him with any sort of joy.
And then there were his parents. What would they think of this whole situation? Taken in by a military commander-slash-royal princess, placed in the military, taking part in two combat operations and being captured to boot? God, his mum would have a heart attack.
The noise of the door creaking loudly open drew him out of his melancholy thoughts as, looking up, he saw one of the Black Knights push open the door to let someone in. At first, he had expected either Zero or possibly the woman named Inoue, so it was definitely a bit of a shock to see the woman who had come in. She was a couple of inches shorter than Ciaran, with long, lime-green hair that went past her shoulder and golden eyes, and he had to guess her age as being somewhere around late-teens. That wouldn't have surprised him, if it wasn't for the fact that she was wearing what could only be described as a straitjacket, with long-flowing sleeves and wide trousers bottoms.
Out of all of the people Ciaran had met so far, she was definitely the oddest looking person. And the first impression was not helped by the pizza box she was holding in her hands.
"Hello, Captain Forsyth." The mystery woman said flatly as she walked further in to the office, her steps showing that she gave hardly a care to the man in front of her. When she reached the pair of desks, she put the box on to the surface-top with little ceremony before opening it.
Now, Ciaran's reaction was anything but voluntary. He was only human after all and he was hungry, so it was no surprise that when he saw the contents of the box, his mouth opened slightly and the tiniest sliver of drool escaped from his lips.
"Is that a...?" He asked hesitantly, not taking his eyes off of the food presented to him.
"Meat-lovers pizza with barbecue sauce and thick crust pizza stuffed with cheese." The mystery woman said, her voice having just the littlest hint of relish in it, although whether it was from his reaction or the food itself, he couldn't tell. Not that that he really cared when he saw what had to be the most enticing pizza in front of him.
However, a part of his brain reminded him that he was British thoroughly beat the more animalistic part of his brain heavily, forcing Ciaran's mouth to snap shut and make him wipe the drool from his mouth with the back of his hand in an attempt to regain some small measure of composure.
"Umm... May I?" Ciaran asked sheepishly, gesturing to the pizza.
"If you want." The woman said flippantly, shrugging non-committally as she herself reached in to the open box and took out one of the slices, Ciaran watching in rapt attention as the strings of cheese and barbecue sauce stretched to breaking point as she lifted the slice to her mouth.
Not wasting time, Ciaran managed to hold himself back from simply lunging towards the box before him and taking out the slice closest to him. Bringing the food to his own mouth, he glanced over at the woman who was clearly savouring her part of the meal, before taking a bite out of the slice of pizza in his hand. It was only then that he realized what organization the woman near him belonged to.
"So what's the plan, pizza girl?" He asked with a mouthful of pizza, trying his best not to let the brilliant mix of flavours distract him. "You taking the 'pet the dog' routine of questioning? Give me some food, get me talking on my hobbies, whatever, then get me to spill what information Zero wants?"
"Nope." The woman (or possibly girl. He honestly couldn't quite tell) simply said with her mouth full as she moved to sit in the chair across from him. "I just want to enjoy my pizza in someplace quiet, and I can't go to my usual place. So... here I am."
Ciaran couldn't find any fault with her logic, her tone not giving away any hint that she was lying. Not that he really cared since he was getting a free pizza out of the whole deal. He and his mysterious companion sat in silence, the only sound being the noises of the two of them eating their pieces of food.
Partway through his third slice, Ciaran remembered that he hadn't asked his companion her name. Looking up from his food, he expected to see the girl in her chair. Instead, she was standing directly beside him, no less than an arms reach away from him. Her face was still the same blank mask that it was when she walked it, but something about here eyes put Ciaran in a state of unease.
As she raised her left hand up, the slice of pizza fell out of Ciaran's hand and on to the table as his hand shot out to grab the nearest thing to a weapon he had. As soon as he felt his fingers grip around the pen, he swung his arm in an arc, the tip held ready to stab the person in front of him.
A tight grip on his left wrist stopped his progress as the mysterious girl grabbed him, showing an amount of strength that he did not expect. Ciaran tried to fight against the grip, but the next move threw all of that out the window as the girl's left hand suddenly shot forward, her fingers taking a tight grip on his forehead as she stared at him with a look of absolute concentration. Ciaran's makeshift weapon clattered to the floor.
Ciaran's mind was going a mile a minute trying to process what was going on: he was being a restrained by a woman who obviously had more strength then he had, so to say he was a little bit of afraid of her would be an understatement. But he also incredibly confused too. The pressure she was exerting on his head was nowhere near painful, just enough to keep his head still while she did whatever she planned to do.
There was no hint of anger in her eyes, nor enjoyment at what she was doing to him. The look on her face a look of concentration, like he was complex book.
They stayed like that for sometime, neither of them making a move. It took Ciaran by surprise when the mysterious girl's face shifted to look of surprise, the ghost of a smile playing on her face as she removed her hands, letting Ciaran's arm drop down.
"Well, now that's certainly different..." The green-haired girl said in quiet amazement as she moved to sit back down at her chair. As she was taking her seat, Ciaran's hands shot up to touch his forehead, checking to see if she had done anything to him that he hadn't felt. His fingers brushing over the skin on his head, he let out a quiet sigh of relief when he realised that nothing had happened to his head.
"What, what did you do?" He ask quickly, looking at the girl across from him.
"Nothing." She replied flippantly, returning to her pizza. "Besides: I doubt you'd believe me if I told you."
"Tell me what you did to me!" Ciaran ordered, trying his best to sound calm at the situation he had just gone through.
"I just read your mind. Or tried to, anyway." His partner said simply, saying it like it was the most mundane thing in the world. Ciaran felt his jaw drop slightly at the girl's words, which seemed to draw some amusement from the girl in front of him. "Told you you wouldn't believe me."
Closing his mouth, Ciaran fixed the girl with glare, trying to figure out if she was lying or not. She didn't give any response to his look, only continuing to munch quietly on her pizza.
"Zero's got some right nut-jobs working for him..." He muttered quietly to himself as he turned back to his desk and the slice of pizza that had fallen on to the newspaper, thankfully landing cheese side up, picking it off the newspaper before looking at the strange girl. "How did you get drawn in to this whole thing, then?"
"Zero and I have a contract."
'A mercenary? That figures.' Ciaran thought to himself, returning to his meal.
"So why is a Briton fighting for a Britannian Princess? The Second Princess at that." The girl said, plucking the question out of thin air.
Ciaran had already told the story he had made up to Kallen, but he had no desire to tell it to this stranger, especially if she was a mercenary. You don't trust those who fight simply for money.
"It was the best solution to a shitty situation. That's all I'll say on the matter."
The woman simply shrugged as she returned to eating her food. Both occupants of the room fell in to silence as they ate their food, Ciaran not taking his eyes off the stranger across from him for too long, although he had no hesitancy in reaching across to take another slice of pizza.
When they had both finished the meal, Ciaran expected the girl to leave him alone, her business finished with. What he did not expect was for her to cross her arms on the desktop and rest her chin against her arms as she stared at the man across from her.
"So why did you join the army then? Surely you'd have been able to get away with any other job you'd want if you've got Princess Cornelia in your pocket."
"I don't..." Ciaran started, taken aback by the comment. "I do not have Cornelia in my pocket. If anything I'm in hers."
The girl just stared at him, her golden eyes not leaving him for a moment, so Ciaran decided to continue with a sigh.
"It's a safe business to be in. Financially, I mean. There will always be a need for soldiers, no matter what anyone thinks. Plus, I do believe that me being a soldier is the only way I can repay the Princess and her staff for helping me out."
"So the only way you can pay them back is by taking another persons life?" The girl said simply, taking Ciaran back by the question.
"Well, if you want to be that blasé about it, then... yeah. You can't be a soldier if you don't take a life. That's kind of the definition of a soldier. But soldiers do more than simply killing people."
"True." The stranger said with a nod, as she lifted her head to rest her chin on her right hand. She didn't say anything else, just staring at him, which Ciaran took as an invitation to continue.
"I've wanted to join the armed forces for a while, so I won't say that I didn't jump at the chance when General Darlton offered it to me. Although I won't say that I'm not beginning to slightly regret it a bit now."
"What do you mean?" The girl asked, looking at him in confusion.
At her words, an image of the man he had killed flashed across Ciaran's mind's eye. The first life he had taken, the first man he had killed came across his mind.
"I don't want to talk about it." He replied curtly, shifting his posture so he wouldn't have to look at his companion, staring off at the boarded up window to his left.
"You've obviously killed someone. I've seen it before, I know the look." The girl said, sounding just a bit more sympathetic than before. "If it troubles you, then why are you a soldier? I can't help but notice the irony that soldiers, people who are meant to protect a country, end up doing more killing than protecting."
Ciaran turned his head to look at the girl, an irritated look on his face as she continued speaking.
"Well, it's always been the same. Those who say that they are meant to protect the people end killing people more than protecting them. The chivalric knights did it."
"Knights were bullies," Ciaran countered, squinting his eyes slightly. "Tell a man who's a member of the aristocracy he's the protector of the people and he's bound to abuse it. That's also the reason why the police here has such a problem with corruption. If you tell a person that they're above the common man, you'll always get trouble."
"Is that not what happens in the army?" The green-haired girl asked.
"Well, yeah, sometimes. It depends on the commander." Ciaran conceded, remembering all the times he'd seen, on TV and the internet at least, of soldiers who had acted superior to civilians. "But myself and Darlton don't share that view. We are just regular men and women forced in to... to put it bluntly, irregular situations and we are trained to come out on top."
The girl didn't respond with anything except a raised eyebrow before she spoke. "That's an odd way to interpret it."
"It's not an interpretation, it's a fact. Take myself for example: pretty average upbringing, less than stellar performance in school, but put me in a boot camp, and I'm given the same chance as pretty much any man or woman who joins. The army takes the unequal and makes them equal. Which is a bit ironic considering how Britannia operates."
"So you don't believe in inequality?" The girl asked him, interested in his line of reasoning.
"Oh, no. Inequality is a rule, if not the rule of nature." Ciaran replied." No two things have an equal chance on this world. Not a leaf or a tree. If nature was equal, then all life would become extinct. But that inequality, the thing Britannia preaches, can be a good thing. It allows those who do not have to aspire to greater things, to learn to better themselves. A man can train himself to be a better runner, or a woman can train herself to be a better actor. It's all down to the person and whether he's willing to bring himself to the same level as those who look down on him."
The mysterious girl could only blink in confusion at his words. "That's... that's a novel way of looking at it, I suppose."
"Eh, social-Darwinism's a crock of shit anyway." Ciaran said, waving a hand at her comment as if he was batting an irritating fly. "The man who thought you could apply a scientific concept to politics should have been hit over the head repeatedly with a copy of On The Origin of Species, and then made to read it."
It brought a measure of satisfaction to the young Briton that his idea brought a small smile to his companion's face, but it quickly faded as she spoke again.
"So you think that conflict, the spilling of blood is a good thing, then?"
Ciaran narrowed his eyes at her words.
"No. I hate it, just as any rational man would." His voice became icy as he spoke. "War destroys countries, breaks cities, tears families and lives apart, and leaves men hollow shells of what they once were."
He turned his body fully to look at her, resting his arms on the desk top.
"I deplore any man who willingly starts a war and claims it's a good thing. The only good wars," Ciaran did everything he could possible to stress the word 'good'. "Are those fought in the defence of a nation's people."
The room fell in to silence, it's occupants looking intently at the other, each one waiting to see who would speak first.
With a soft squeak, the stranger pusher her chair back and stood up.
"Well. That was certainly an interesting lunch. Thank you, Captain."
It was in no small words that Ciaran was surprised by her words. He had expected her to say something to continue the conversation. Maybe challenge his views, call him a fool, at best, or pathetically optimistic at worst. But for her to not say a word against them... it was an odd feeling.
He didn't say anything as he watched the stranger turn to leave. As she raised her hand to knock on the door, she stopped herself to turn around and face Ciaran.
"One question: if I said that I could give you the power to control those in the world, to make war a thing of the past... would you take it?"
Ciaran had to stop and think about it.
Power to control the world... power that he knew would corrupt him, manipulate him in to doing awful things.
"Not a fucking chance." He said flatly looking her in the eyes when he said it.
The girl nodded her head, more in acceptance than agreement, before she turned to the door and knocked on the metal, stepping back as the door opened with a loud screech. Before she stepped through the threshold, the stranger turned and looked at Ciaran, a thin, sympathetic smile on her face.
"I honestly hope that conviction of yours doesn't come back to bite you."
Ciaran merely replied with a shrug. "We'll see."
Without another word, the girl turned around with a small swirl of her hair and left the room, the large door closing behind her with the same clang as it always did. Shaking his head, Ciaran returned to his newspaper.
"Mad woman..."
Inside Cornelia's office, the Second Princess was the picture of quiet fury. She was seated with her left arm resting on her desk, her right arm held up straight as she twirled a pen in her fingers. Her figure was as tense as a spring as she looked over the various files in front of her.
All of them were intelligence reports, fifteen in all, all gathered by her intelligence agency in less than ten hours. It was testament to the power that she wielded as a Britannian princess that she could get the information so quickly, Guilford, standing at his customary place at the side of the Second Princess' desk, noted as he watched his Princess circle a number of notes on one piece of paper before shifting it aside to look at another sheet.
It was unfortunate that none of the information that she was looking at was of any definitive use. Guilford knew that there was no reliable information on what the transports used by the Black Knights looked like, and since the group escaped in to the rush hour traffic, trying to find them was like trying to find a needle in a hay stack. Even if they did send their forces to follow every single truck that existed in Area 11, they'd be doing more harm than good in their search for the missing Captain.
"What shall we do, your Highness?" Guilford asked after spending a few seconds quietly watching Cornelia work.
The lavender-haired princess didn't respond immediately, continuing to pour over the papers in front of her before she spoke. "I don't know, Guilford. I don't know. Has any news been sent to the Homeland about this?"
"No, your Highness. At least not yet." Guilford knew what she was referring to. They had managed to block any news about the débâcle at Narita reaching the Homeland before they managed to tweak it to appease the big-wigs back in Pendragon, but they were unsure whether or not any news about Captain Forsyth's capture would be leaked to Pendragon. If it were leaked, Cornelia would be put in a very compromising situation.
Her father, for all of his talk that his children should handle their own affairs, did not look kindly on failure.
A short series of heavy knocks on the door caught the bespectacled Knight's attention.
"I imagine that's Darlton." Cornelia said, her attention turned back to the papers before her.
Bowing at the unspoken command, Guilford moved to the door, his long legs easily carrying him quickly over the distance. When he reached the door, he had no sooner put his hand on to the door-handle before the door was violently swung inwards. It was only due to Guilford's highly trained reflexes that he jumped backwards in time to avoid getting several pounds worth of oak slammed in to his face as Darlton stormed in.
"General Darlton?" Cornelia called out, looking up angrily at the scarred general as he walked in, something clutched in one of his hands, Guilford following quickly behind him. "What is the meaning of this?"
"You need to see this, Princess." Darlton said, holding up his left hand to show her what he was carrying: a thin brown envelope, unmarked except for a stamp that said 'For Princess Cornelia li Britannia.'
"Where did you get this, General?" Guilford asked as he looked at the package in confusion.
"A courier brought it to the Palace. He couldn't say who it came from as it was delivered to their office's anonymously." Darlton replied. "Security's had a look at it, before you ask, Gil. It's not a bomb. It's something much more interesting."
"What is it then?" Cornelia asked, sitting back in her chair, her interest piqued.
"I think it best if we get Princess Euphemia in here, your Highness." Darlton said by way of a reply as he moved to one of the cabinets set against a side wall, opening the small set of doors to reveal a small television set with a built-in DVD player. "And Nonette and Dorothea too. I think they should be made aware of what's happening."
Guilford looked at Cornelia, who simply had her mouth open slightly at the General's attitude, before closing her mouth and nodding at her Knight, silently telling him to do it, which he did with a bow of his head.
Moving quickly, Guilford practically ran to the places he knew that Third Princess and the visiting Knights of the Round. His first visit to Euphemia's office proved the most successful, yielding Nonette and Dorothea engaged with a sullen looking Third Princess, each with a cup of tea in their hand. The trio looked up as Guilford entered the room, not bothering to knock on the door.
"Lord Guilford?" The pink-haired princess asked, taken by surprise by the sudden entry. "That was a bit rude."
"I know, your Highness. And I cannot apologise enough, but I had to. Your sister wants all of us to gather in her office."
"All of us?" Nonette asked, surprised by the Knight's words. "Did she say what for?"
"My lady, I have just as little idea as you do." Guilford admitted.
Without much further prompting, the female trio followed the Knight at a quick pace as they made their way back to Cornelia's office, Guilford slowing his pace both to keep himself from exerting himself to much and also to allow Euphemia, dressed in one of her large frilly dresses, from falling too far behind. None of them asked any questions since they were all in the dark as each other about the situation.
Not bothering to knock, Guilford pushed open the door to Cornelia's office before stepping aside to let the trio of ladies through, shutting the door when they had entered. Inside, Cornelia still retained her seated position, a pen still held in her fingers, now with her attention fully on Darlton as he stood near the television-cum-DVD player. In the time that the Knight had been gone, the scarred general had opened the package revealing a small CD case with an unmarked CD in it.
"Nellie, what's going on?" Nonette asked, looking between Cornelia and Darlton expecting one of them to answer.
Ignoring her much loathed nickname, Cornelia merely motioned towards the General. "Play the CD, Darlton."
Not saying a word, the tall man opened the cassette player and inserted the CD, going through the motions of pressing play as the group moved in to a better position to see the TV screen.
With a burst of static and the whirr of the machine reading the disc, the screen came to life, revealing what appeared to be the interior of an industrial storage room, seeming to be lit by only a single neon light on the ceiling. In the middle of the camera, stood a man wearing an ornate mask that covered his entire head his whole body wrapped in a large cloak. Behind him stood two people dressed in black uniforms, each one holding a submachine gun, pointing them at something behind the back of the man in black.
"Zero..." Cornelia hissed out, tightening the grip on her pen.
As if in answer, the masked terrorist spoke. "Greetings to you, Viceroy Cornelia. I'm truly sorry that our meeting at Narita had been interrupted the way it had, but I assure you that it won't put a damper on my spirits."
Glancing over, Guilford saw Cornelia's eyes squint in anger at the man's insolent tone.
"Now, to the matter at hand. I do believe that you have lost something."
Without another word, Zero moved to the side, revealing what the armed guards were pointing their weapons at: it was a man in his early twenties, with dark brown curly hair, dressed in a dark green pilot suit, seated on a chair with his arms evidently tied behind his back.
Euphemia let out a sharp gasp, her hands coming up to her mouth in shock, while Nonette's and Dorothea's eyes merely opened in shock. Darlton didn't give any outward expression, merely a tensing of his jaw. The strongest reaction that Guilford saw, which was also the quietest, came from Princess Cornelia.
She didn't say anything, her eyes opening wide in shock just as her fingers closed tightly around the pen in her hand, the resulting pressure snapping the pen clean in half as her grip ruptured the ink cartridge inside, letting the blue-black liquid to spill down the fingers of her gloves.
AN: First things first, and I'm writing this to remind myself: When I do the gap between writing chapters, make them larger! From now on, I am going to do this as a monthly story. Hopefully bi-monthly, but most definitely monthly. Although, doing Christmas shopping, preparing for Christmas and working in one of the biggest retailers in the UK at Christmas time doesn't help.
That out of the way: Chapter 17 is up. And it's another bloody cliffhanger! AHAHA! Blame mrthischarmingman2 for giving me the idea. c: But yeah, since I set myself too small a time frame for writing, I was not able to do as good a job as I have done in the past with this chapter. And after getting so many good reviews for Chapter 16! Gah!
Still, I managed to get some things I wanted to cover with this chapter. Namely, Ciaran finally meeting CC, the mysterious group trailing Ciaran (who really shouldn't be that much of a secret considering the universe) and the fact that Joseph Fenette survived Narita, which is something that would chance the story a fair bit, when you think about it.
So that's it. Again, read, enjoy (if you're able to) and review.
Have a merry Christmas, a happy holidays and good New Year and most of all: be safe! See you after the new year.