Thank you for sticking with me so far after all these years (no, seriously, I started this story back when the world was ending in 2012).
If you want to read more, check out A Certain Felon Fraternity on FanFiction.
Thank you for your patience during this story's refurbishment.
Abandoned Base
Lelouch slumped against the wall and slid down to the floor, he couldn't help it.
He never was the athletic sort, and hefting crates of machine parts, tools and bullets definitely pushed him to his limit. That aside, they did uncover a trio of outdated Mitsubishi Rei fighters; more-or-less worthless except as slow and vulnerable scout-craft. But at least it was something else they had.
"Are you alright Lelu?" Lelouch looked up at Shirley, leaning over him with hands on her knees.
"I'm fine; I'm just trying to pull my weight, or more than my weight perhaps." She scrutinized him before smiling and taking a seat next to him.
"P.E. was never your strong suit."
"Sorry."
"What are you apologizing for? You're still capable of incredible things." What was she talking about?
"Like what?"
"Well..." she put a finger to her chin in thought, "there was that one time where you towed a car."
"Where I- what?"
"Back in our Freshman year; don't you remember?" Lelouch actually had to jog his memory a little.
"You mean... that traffic accident with that elderly couple and that other guy?" Her smile returned.
"Yep."
"You heard about it?"
"I was there, in the crowd, I saw you do it."
"Oh." Lelouch actually felt his cheeks warm up for some reason. "You think that was incredible?"
"Well... no one else was going to help that couple, no one except you." Oh, she thought he was being altruistic. "And you had that same expression that you usually have."
"What expression?"
"That:" she adopted a gruff voice and crossed her arms, "I'm so bored, there's literally nothing in the world that interests me," she dropped her mimicry, "kind of expression."
"I was just trying to get the traffic moving. That guy was the reason for that mess and was putting the blame on someone he could bully. I figured taking his car would be more-than-justified in that case."
"But you still did something. You were the only one who did anything." A fair point, Lelouch had to smile at this.
"That still pales in comparison to what we're doing now; hiding out with rebels while contemplating fighting against an out-of-world army of some sort."
"Are we?" Shirley's face adopted a look of concern. "I thought we were just preparing for the worst, going into hiding and such." Lelouch shook his head.
"The way Cysgod talks about Occulta and Alexander Daemon, they aren't just going to go away. Besides, they went out of the way to target Ashford, to target you and the others, AND they abducted Rivalz! Something tells me that they're not going to stop looking for us. The best way to ensure our safety is to stop them, and I can't just wait for someone to stop them for us."
"You're actually planning to fight them? From here? With what we have? We're only students for God's sake!" He smiled slightly and gave her a decisive look.
"They tried to kill Nunnally, I have to do something." Shirley's eyes widened at this. But then she closed her eyes and nodded. She slowly stood up. "Shirley," she stood still, "I'm going to protect you too." She looked at him.
"What?"
"You, Milly and Nina. Up until now, I only had myself and Nunnally to worry about, but I don't want any of you to die either." She stared at him for a moment, but then nodded her head in gratitude before walking off.
Kerman City, Dasht-e Lut Desert
Rivalz continued to support Cornelia as they hobbled along the hillside path as the sun slowly rose in the sky. Behind them, Meier continued to keep an eye on them.
Cornelia winced again.
"Sorry," said Rivalz, "is it how I'm holding you?"
"No," she replied, shaking her head, "it's how my foot touches the ground. I can handle it."
"Should I put you down?"
"I can handle it," she repeated. They continued forward several strides. "Tell me about your friends."
"What?"
"From before, tell me more about your friends?"
"You... really want to know about my friends?"
"Why else would I ask?"
"Well... I kind of figured you would want to talk about something more important than the lives of commoners."
"You're telling me you know of the subjects on government and military strategy?"
"Well no."
"Then I can't have a meaningful conversation with you on those subjects, can I?"
"Ah, good point."
"So, tell me about your friends. You mentioned the student council president?"
"Yeah. Miss President, her name is Milly Ashford."
"Of the Ashfords?"
"The same. She's an upstanding young woman, if a little impulsive."
"Impulsive?"
"She has a habit of setting up random events, sometimes on a mere whim. Almost all of them were crazy, but she always gets everything to work out. Somehow."
"Sounds like a very capable young lady."
"Yeah, she is."
"You're personal goddess I see."
"My what?"
"You like her." She could easily sense his fluster, even without looking at him.
"Ah... well... what-er... what isn't to like about her?"
Behind them, Meier had to smile to himself. He always found the lives of "normal" people fascinating to a degree, almost therapeutic even. Such were his inclinations toward those outside of "the life." He glanced from his charges back to the ARSE, wondering how Alex was actually planning to handle the emigres.
Area 11
Britannian Central Military Base
Just outside of the base perimeter, Zeta and Orpheus let Suzaku out of the sedan.
"Why did you bring me here?"
"An act of instinct," Zeta explained, "based on another hunch."
"Just how many of these 'hunches' do you have?" Orpheus smarted. Zeta gave him a quick glare before turning back to Suzaku.
"Do you know of Lloyd Aspund?" Suzaku had to think about it.
"I know the name. I think I may have even seen him before, but I never spoke with him."
"Find him," Zeta ordered, "find him and get the hell out, at least for a while. I don't know why the Utopians haven't killed Clovis yet, maybe they don't consider him a major concern, but they won't stop with Britannia."
"You're saying there will be another terrorist attack?"
"No, that was just a preemptive strike. The next time will be a full-blown invasion. Air strikes, amphibious assaults, artillery support, and I'm personally certain that Clovis won't be able to put up a decent defense."
"How do you know this?"
"Because I and others have been fighting Occulta for a while now."
"Who?"
"Occulta, that's the callsign for their leader." Suzaku frowned.
"If you know so much about them and what they plan to do, why not take care of this Occulta person?"
"We would if we actually knew who he was. We're not even sure if Occulta is a he or a she; maybe Occulta is a group of people, we don't know."
"Okay, okay, so is Professor Aspund one of your comrades?"
"No, he's Britannian."
"And you're not?"
"No, I'm not, I'm just a warrior-of-honor who earns his keep by being a soldier-of-fortune."
"You know... you're not making this very easy to understa-"
"Do you want to help out your friends or not?" This gave Suzaku an abrupt pause.
"You mean Lelouch and Nunnally are still alive?"
"Orpheus?" The driver reached over and pulled the latch on the glove box, dropping a rolled up newspaper. Zeta rolled his eyes as his charge retrieved the paper and unfolded the obituary section. A large square outline encompassed a list of, at least, more than a thousand names.
"Their names aren't here," Orpheus reported, "check if you want." Suzaku opened his mouth and closed it. He was about to blurt out that Lelouch vi Britannia would most likely be using an alias, so he wouldn't have shown up anyway. There was almost no way to know if they were alive or dead, only that they were there at some point. However, on the rare chance that they were alive, he didn't want to- wait, hold on, hold on, hold on!
"You alright?" Zeta asked.
"Yeah, kind of," Suzaku answered cautiously. "You know who Lelouch actually is?"
"Lelouch Lamperouge, former member of the Britannian Royal Family, exiled along with his sister following the assassination of their mother." Okay, so he did know.
"And... do you know where they are now?"
"I only know that they're alive," he explained plainly as Suzaku took the newspaper. "But you have a better chance of helping them if you have an edge."
"And Professor Aspund is that edge?"
"More like: he has the edge in his possession." He moved to close the door. "Good luck, Kururugi." The car doors closed and the green sedan sped off.
"Thank you," Suzaku said to thin air.
Despite being near-empty, it still took several minutes for Suzaku to get his ID confirmed. But after that he was able to enter base, looking about for any sign that might point him toward Aspund's location. Where the heck were those people when you actually needed them?
"Hey, excuse me," he finally flagged down a sentry, "do you know where I can find Lloyd Aspund? Its important."
"Sure. Camelot Lab, facility 3A."
Suzaku thanked the man and ran off.
"Well if it isn't the son of the former Prime Minister, it's an honor to finally meet you Kururugi."
"Same here," replied Suzaku with a hurried bow. "Where is everybody?" It was true, the humongous lab only had three current occupants: Lloyd Aspund, his assistant, and now Suzaku.
"Most of the support workers have gone home," Lloyd said, a gloomy expression appearing on his face. "The infantry and Knightmare units are all spread out, waiting for the Sons of the Serpents to show their heads while everyone else seem to have given up on the idea of Britannia in the first place. Even some Pure-Bloods are taking sick-leave. Is there some reason you wanted to see me?"
"Well... yes," said Suzaku, presenting the blue disc. "I need to know what's on this disc."
"Oh, let's have a look then."
Suzaku gave Lloyd the disc and Lloyd inserted it into a computer. He brought up the disc's data on the computer screen. Suzaku and Lloyd's assistant looked over his shoulder as his eyes narrowed and he typed in a few commands. Then his eyes widened and his glasses slid down to the tip of his nose.
"What in the world!"
"What is it?" his assistant inquired. Lloyd readjusted his glasses.
"The data here is just brilliant. But there's also something here that disturbs me. See these figures here?" He lightly tapped a section of the screen. "These equations are incomplete, even a tad rudimentary, but are significant in the use of Uranium-235 as an efficient power source. But if you read on, this same concept could be used for weaponized purposes."
"What kind of weapons?" asked Suzaku.
"Well, that kind of power can't be harnessed in firearms. The most likely avenue for this technology would be in the development of bombs. And those bombs would no-doubt be powerful."
"How powerful?"
"Well, do you have any idea how much power a Sakuradite superconductor emits?"
"Not exactly."
"Imagine that power as say... I don't know... a box of apples. Now imagine power emitted that can be visualized as a Knightmare Frame and place that Knightmare next to the apples."
"That much power!"
"Oh yes, very much so. By the way, where did you find-"
"We really do need to get out of here."
"What?"
"I was nearly shot to get that," he explained, "and I would've-"
"Nearly shot?" gasped the assistant, hand over her mouth, "where were you?"
"Ashford Academy. Some of the Serpents were snooping around while I was there."
"You mean today?" Lloyd inquired.
"Yes." He frowned at this, but then drew up a spare chair.
"Take a seat, and explain everything."
Aeternum Renegade Social Exchange
Ledo Offen couldn't keep his eyes open the second time either. He had caught glimpses of brightness, darkness and whole blinding spectrum of colors, but the extraordinary contrast in both color and depth just made him feel sick. So he closed his eyes again until he felt firm ground beneath his feet.
"Here they are, the last batch!" Ledo opened his eyes, saw that the nine of them, plus their "guide," were in yet another spacious room on top of an ornate circular pattern on the floor, and touched his mother's shoulder.
"Mother, you can open your eyes now." His mother, similar to him in all but age, sex and eye color (her's were blue where his were an autumn red), opened her eyes and steadied herself, swaying slightly.
"We are still alive, yes?"
"We are," he answered with what he hoped was an encouraging smile.
"Alright, alright, this way everyone!" a voice commanded. Ledo's mother, Lya, clutched her purse to her chest. Before they left, or rather fled, she had dumped out all the various coupons and cosmetics and had loaded it with her citizenship papers, letters from her late father, jewelry and all the cash she could find in the house. They, and the others in the group, were herded through the door into a larger common area, almost packed with people.
Other Britannians, or is it: former Britannians now?
Surrounding them were young adults holding either a pistol or rifle while dressed in black trench coats. More "friends of friends" no doubt.
"Oh piss off! In the end, what good did your name do you?"
"At least we are true to our name!" Two men, well-dressed and upright in posture, were arguing on the far-side of the throng. One was standing before a clustered group of 4, and the other stood at the head of a gathering of 10 or 11.
"We were trying to rebuild our legacy, regardless of how much you were trying to sully it more."
"Trading the name of our ancestor for the name of a coward is not how you rebuild!"
"Better the name of a coward than the name of a traitor!"
"My God, they're here too?" Ledo looked behind him at one of the men in the group he came with. His name was... Curtis? Robert E. Curtis, he thought. He had joined them, along with his wife and three sons, from Dallas, Texas. One of his sons, Rudy or Rooney, spoke up.
"You know those two father?"
"I know them, and their kin." He rolled his eyes before giving his son a strained look. "They are your uncles."
"What?"
"Enough! All of you!" A younger and louder voice overcame the two bickering men, a young man with pitch black frock coat and white cravat. "We are all under enough stress without this pointless bickering." The two men glared at him.
"Who are you to talk to you like that?"
"My name is Abel Franks." Both men immediately took a step back in surprise.
"Franks? As in, the Duchess, Lady Beatrice?" Abel waved his hand.
"I am but a margrave, and this is my fiancé," he gestured to the young lady behind him, "Lady Enora Crane." The lady bowed her head and the two men showed their gratitude.
"Everyone, listen up!" Everyone's attention went to another young man. He had coal black hair, light-colored eyes, and wore dark slacks, a pair of Oxfords, and a white dress shirt. He was also turning a silver coin over and over between his fingers. "Now that everyone is here, we can move on. You may call me Dillinger and you can ask me any questions you may have AFTER-" he emphasized right as a bunch of people opened their mouths, "-after you get all situated. But for now, step this way, don't wander or you will get lost."
The small crowd began following after the Dillinger guy. Ledo had to slow down a tad due to his mother gripping the sleeve of his violet jacket.
"Hey," Ledo looked right at a young man, near to him in age with blue eyes and well-groomed blonde hair wearing a light blue uniform synonymous with the Britannian military students, "are you a student too?" He pointed to his neck and Ledo knew he was referring to the collar of his own uniform which Ledo had on under his jacket.
"Yeah, Oakland Naval Pilot Academy. You?"
"Iowa Base Academy," he said with a proud grin. Ledo held out his free hand.
"Nice to meet you, Ledo Offen." The other kid shook his hand.
"Hexenhaus, Schnee Hexenhaus, the pleasure is mine." Now that was a name he recognized.
"Not at all, the honor is mine my lord." Schnee actually laughed a little.
"No no, we're both soldiers of Britannia," he frowned at his own remark, "well... technically," his smile returned, "we're more-or-less brothers in regard to rank." Ledo bowed his head.
"As you say." He gestured to his mother. "This is my mother." She started at this introduction and nervously bowed her head to young Hexenhaus.
"Ah- a pleasure to meet- I mean- an honor to meet you my lord." Schnee actually blushed at this.
"Thank you, but please, don't stress yourself out."
The crowd eventually came to a set of double doors, which two of the "friends-of-friends" with guns opened for Dillinger.
[Moanin' (Bobby Timmons / piano only) - PLAY]
It was an enormous club room with a stage at one end. The entire room was softly lit, like warm red and autumn brown. The floor was elevated around the edges and round tables were clustered about, each with white and red tablecloths and set with a candle on silver candle stick. No one was on the stage, but a grand piano was situated on the floor in front of it. Sitting at the piano, effortlessly typing the ivory keys, was a young man, maybe a little older than Ledo, black slacks, dinner jacket, white dress shirt, rose red tie and black brogues. Ledo helped his mother to the tables. It wasn't she was hurt or anything, she was a more-or-less healthy 32-year-old, but Ledo could feel her shaking. Schnee ushered them over to a table with three others. Noting the quality of their clothes, Ledo unzipped his jacket so that his uniform was clearly visible.
"Father," Schnee said, "this is Ledo Offen and his mother." He turned to Ledo. "This is my father, Earl Hexenhaus, my mother and younger sister." Ledo respectfully greeted them and the Earl, Himmel Hexenhaus, warmly received both Ledo and his mother.
The young man on the piano, meanwhile, was finishing up the song he was playing. His fingers expertly flying over the ivory while remaining in an effortlessly dignified posture.
[Moanin' - END]
As the last notes faded, the young man, almost gracefully, stood up and downed a crystal glass full of a dark, fizzing liquid.
"Ah... now that's an excellent compliment to Bobby Timmons," Alex observed, more than a little pleased with himself. He knelt down, picking up a second can of Cherry Dr. Pepper and refilling his glass.
"Excuse me," Earl Himmel Hexenhaus had stood up from his seat, "I won't deny my gratitude for getting us away from the Serpents. But why are we here? And more importantly, who brought us here?"
"I did," Alex answered, taking a swig and placing the glass on top of the piano's music shelf, "much more convenient to have you emigres in one place, rather than having your scattered about." The Earl frowned.
"Understandable, but who told you to bring us here? It obviously isn't you."
"Oi!" snapped a brash voice from across the room, "do you have any idea who you're talking to?" The young man who spoke was attired in an almost-noble fashion, standing in his seat when an older man at the table grasped him by the shoulder and forced him back down.
"Easy Joseph, he obviously doesn't know."
"And who are you?" asked the Earl.
"Zerilli Dolos, and that young man you're disrespecting is the one in charge here, wherever here is." Hexenhaus' eyes narrowed at the family name, the Dolos family was notorious for their underground inclinations, but they were "technically" of the nobility.
"You mean to tell me that this young pianist-?"
"Don't be misled," interrupted a more elder man to Zerilli's side, probably Viscount Gaspar, "that young pianist has more influence than either of our families. Though I must admit, I always suspected him to be a myth." A myth?
"Indeed," said a man at a neighboring table, "he's the reason for many difficulties in Flint."
"Course you've been having trouble," yet another Dolos snarked from another table. "They are quite reasonable in Grand Rapids."
"Be quiet Bernstein! You barely brought in anything, of course you'd be below their notice. Besides, Tocco has been having trouble too."
"Only because you insisted on bringing in drugs," Zerilli pointed out, "I know I warned you Egan."
"To hell with you, Zerilli! Talking like you-"
cli-click
Everyone tensed up and all eyes were back on Alex, now holding a well-furnished handgun. Alex, keeping his smile as neutral as possible, laid his silver steel M1911 with pearl grips on the piano's music shelf.
"Dear me," he said, picking up his beverage glass, "all you have been knocked off your pedestals, fell into the dirt with the label of: refugee, and some of you are already at each others' throats." He took a swig. "The Britannian ethos, no doubt; struggle and competition ensures progress, survival of the fittest. You Britannians are definitely QED."
"QED?" He grinned and took another swig.
"Quite Extraordinarily Daft." He could see the severely stung pride on the more high class emigres. "While I don't disagree with the moral necessity of competition, the promotion of constant in-fighting and even class-struggle is just a disaster waiting to happen." He shook his head to show his disappointment, stepping into the midst of the nearest tables. "My name is Alexander Varain Powers, and it is because of my brothers and sisters of the Powers Facinus that you are here, instead of being persecuted by the Utopians of the UMNE. You're welcome by the way."
"We thank you," said Margrave Abel, "as I'm sure we're all grateful for the generous rescue."
"Ah, well that there's the problem."
"Problem?"
"I am not a generous person, not that I'm incapable of altruism, but doing something for nothing is just stupid." He looked around, glad to see the looks of mild agreement on some of the guests. Most of the others were able to figure out what hadn't been said.
"You're not implying that you want something in exchange for our safety, are you?" asked a man with an arm around his wife and a half-year-old babe.
"Finally, a Britannian with a brain. Mister...?"
"Joshua R. Nicolai." That name was familiar, Ledo thought, although he wasn't sure why. Another noble, probably.
"Ah... the painter." Oh, that's why. "Well, Mr. Nicolai, the Facinus is first and foremost a business. And I'm sure some of you," he fixed his sight on a man with wispy white hair, thick-lens glasses and a tweed jacket holding onto a leather briefcase, "have realized specific reasons why we 'rescued' you. The rest of you, on the other hand, either sought us out because you figured we could get you out," the members of the Dolos family shifted in their seats, "or were just hoping for a chance to get-the-hell-out. Both of which, we provided... and attained a zero-sum. So, naturally, we would very much like to make up for that."
"But we have just left our homes and everything!" a woman cried out. "What could we possibly give you?!" Her husband, an apparent soldier, put a hand on her shoulder and urged her to calm down.
"Not much, save for opportunity." Say what?
"Opportunity?" wondered Robert Curtis. "What do you mean by that?" Alex took another swig.
"Unlike those of most other countries, I believe that almost everyone has at least one thing of value to offer. Indeed, the true value of many things are often overlooked. So I make a habit of keeping options open. That in mind, I have a proposition for all of you here, a Deal of sorts."
Ledo looked to Schnee, who was nibbling his thumbnail. One look and both of them understood that they had, more-or-less, the same train of thought.
Whatever Deal Mr. Powers has in mind, it was going to be an offer they can't easily refuse.
Area 11
Camelot Lab
"Goodness, you've been put through the wringer today, haven't you Kururugi?" Lloyd inquired after Suzaku finished recounting the morning's events; not completely, he decided against revealing Lelouch's true identity. "And what do you think of this Zeta person?"
"I have no idea," Suzaku answered with an exasperated sigh. "I don't think he's a liar, but I don't think I can trust him either." Lloyd rubbed his chin, but then slowly stood up and turned to his assistant.
"Cecile, ready the Lancelot's transport. Pack up as much as you can, and be sure to put some food in there as well."
"Yes sir," Cecile quickly answered and rushed off to fulfill her task. "Tell me Kururugi... have you ever wanted to pilot a Knightmare?"