OK Number 37 - Breaking Ground

Kallen knocked on the wooden door with trepidation, rapping her knuckles off the surface with a relative glancing impact, as if she didn't want her knock to be heard or acknowledged at all, and that she could shrug and return to her studio apartment without having to go through what was scheduled for the next hour and a half.

However, this was not the case, and soon after, the door handle began to turn, racketing with hollow clangs before the door shook in its hinges. The shaking then ceased, before a pause and then a muffled gasp from the other side of the door.

"Ah, bugger! The slide lock's still in! Sorry, one second!"

Kallen grimaced. For someone who was meant to help her clear her head, this psychotherapist was already causing her anxiety.

After taking a moment to slide the bolt away, the voice was given a face as the door swang away almost instantaneously, with Kallen feeling the air rush past her hair to accommodate the swinging entryway. As the dust settled, Kallen took in the presence before her; a pink haired woman, stood several inches below Kallen and grinning as broadly as anyone she had ever seen. After a moment, the pink bundle of visible energy continued "Kallen Kōzuki, I presume?"

Somewhat put off by her boundless enthusiasm, Kallen gingerly nodded, extending her hand lamely, with the therapist, who upon further inspection struck her as surely not being much older than Kallen herself, met the offer of a handshake with great vigor.

"Lovely to meet you. My name's Euphemia McGlynn! Hopefully we'll get on, or else this will be a pretty damn awkward few months we'll spend stuck in a room together for three hours a week, eh?"

Kallen was struck by Euphemia's balancing of tooth rotting sweetness and brutal honesty, as she grinned while informing her charge of the possibility of long-term misery. However, in light of this news, Kallen was eager to make their time together as painless as she could, and so she nodded a second time to acknowledge her warning.

Euphemia somehow managed to beam with an even wider smile, before continuing "Fantastic. Please, do come inside!"

She followed the woman inside the annexe, before being surprised by the state of the place. For her pristine appearance, her office was anything but, with nick knacks and miscellaneous clutter occupying almost every square inch, it really seemed as if peace and mental clarity would not be easily engendered, with distracting junk littered all across the floor surface. The room was so poorly organised and filled to the brim with every piece and parcel of loot that had ever scattered the lands various jumble sales that it was practically avant garde.

Euphemia seemed aware of the state of the room, chuckling before turning back to Kallen apologetically, bending over slightly and trying to explain, beginning "It's erm… it's still in need of some attention in terms of the organisation, but sure look now… take a seat wherever you like. Whatever makes you nice 'n comfy."

Kallen moved towards the couch, lined in deep red corduroy, before she paused as she caught glimpse of a picture frame sat in the wedge of the two person seat. Caught in the wooden frame was Euphemia, smiling as was expected while hugging former driver Cornelia after she had won her first championship with the Camelot team Kallen now found herself in. Perhaps most bizarrely, Cornelia did not appear visibly enraged by the display affection as she normally would, particularly given that it was going to be immortalised in photograph. Indeed, the stalwart Briton almost seemed to herself be… smiling…

In fact… McGlynn…

"Are you… Cornelia's sister?"

Kallen turned just to catch Euphemia nodding and replying "Aye!" "Just because she's upped sticks doesn't mean that a girl doesn't have to make a living for herself though!"

Appreciating this, Kallen silently sat as Euphemia chuckled, seeming to pause to consider her sister, before adding "She's off setting land speed records, as one does really. She always looked up to Donald Campbell, and she had been hankering after the thousand mile an hour barrier for a few years now."

"That's pretty cool." Kallen admitted. It was interesting that the sister of a former driver who had won titles with the team was in such a high position at such a young age, however given Naoto's sterling work in forging a brand, there was an argument that she was making such presumptuous considerations from something of a glass house.

As such, she decided to depart from the issue and, after allowing Euphemia to lounge on the couch opposite, she decided to make hay and ask "So… what is the plan? You're in charge, what uh… what do I need to hear?"

Kallen was more than a little eager to resolve her anger issues, and was interested to hear what Euphemia would say to try and make a crack at resolving them, which led to quite a bit of frustration when the pink haired woman shrugged and replied "I dunno."

Kallen baulked, her eyes bulging slightly as she leaned forward in disbelief, only just able to reply with a burbling "W.. wut?"

"Well, first of all, strictly speaking all I need to do is write up a report that says you're fit to race, but as if I'm going to make things that easy." Euphemia chuckled. "But in all seriousness, I'm not here to instruct you. I'm more interested in… facilitating. I can steer a bit, but you're in control of the throttle. This will be a journey you make, with me poking you with a stick every few hours when you stop making progress."

Kallen frowned sceptically, before Euphemia laughed and continued "C'mon, it'll be fun! Now, let's get to know one another."

The Japanese driver rolled her eyes, before commenting "This is gonna be good."

"Why do you say that?"

Kallen sighed, before admitting "I don't doubt you've already got a firm impression of me. Most people do."

"Well, I'm not most people." Euphemia admitted. "I haven't seen the video, and I don't plan to. I want to know the real you, not the one that flared up at a particular point in your life."

"I'm nothing if not what I do. I can't escape it."

Euphemia leaned her head back, digesting this point, before pointing up her finger and replying "True, but one action isn't the sum of your person. I lost my keys this morning, but that isn't the definition of everything about me."

"It's not the same." Kallen huffed, exasperated as it seemed Euphemia was missing the point. "It was horrid, it's not the same as losing my keys. It's so hideous, but I did it. That surely gives some insight, no? In getting to know who I am?"

"Yeah, you did it, that's for sure a piece of data. But you feel bad about it. That's also data."

Kallen snorted, and replied "Fat lot of good it does Lelouch, that I regret it after the fact."

"I'm not interested in Lelouch right now, he's not the person I'm trying to help out." Euphemia explained. "It's better that than you having stuck to your guns and going full 'I did nothing wrong', which is not unheard of."

"Bully for me." Kallen replied snarkily. "Does it make it okay to do anything if I regret it later?"

"Stop talking nonsense." Euphemia replied, not quite snapping but clearly not amused. "Of course it was wrong. No one thinks otherwise, and I'm not here to convince anyone of that point. What I'm saying is that irrespective of it being wrong, you can take steps to be better in future. But to do that, you have to want to. You can't fix this without a drive to. I can't help someone who doesn't want to do some heavy lifting."

Kallen paused as she considered this. As Euphemia had said, she wasn't here to instruct. Kallen had known from the beginning she would have to do a lot of work herself to get back to some form she recognised, and Euphemia was offering a direction for this, some expertise from which she could grow. She'd be a fool to turn it up.

Not that she was allowed to at any rate.

Reuben Ashford, who for all his nerves and introversion was quite frank with his financial affairs and desire to run his team without incurring deficits even if it compromised performance, had stated in 2009 what had with time become a tautology; to compete in Formula One, one needed a yearly income of 90 million euros, and to be at the sharp end of the grid, one would need an influx approaching 200 million. Since his financial coup, wrestling the majority of the former Rosenberg team from the bloodthirsty stakeholders who wanted to pick the team apart like vultures, Lelouch had been able to get a view of just what sort of team Lloyd had been running; and as he looked through the teams balance sheet, it struck Lelouch that while Lloyd was a good designer, he was a poor businessman.

Moreover, he was not only a poor businessman, he was also cursed by a lack of recognition that he was a poor businessman. Lelouch himself had many deficiencies, including having control issues, being unable to use his arm, a complete lack of knowledge or interest in the technical details of the sport, and was a mediocre driver on his best day. However, Lelouch was aware of this, and outsourced solutions where his inability became an issue. By contrast, Lloyd had charged blindly in, only realising he had made a mess of things after he had gotten his grubby little hands all over them, unbound by such inhibiting chains as accountants, an assistant, or a basic sense of finance.

Upon further examination, Lelouch quickly saw what had unfolded with the team. Lloyd was trying to run a top flight team on a midfielder's budget, and while his self-headed design department had the brains to envision a cutting edge car, committing those designs to flesh and metal hogged resources, and the teams debt escalated to well into the hundreds of millions.

Lelouch's primarily French sponsors followed him out of racing and into management, propping up a collective 60 million in capital, with a further 15 million per year for the next three years in return for prominent placing of logos and advertising on the car, and the use of both drivers for their own advertising. Kaguya put up 15 million herself, and her contacts put together put up a separate 70 million, as individual investors.

After meeting with V.V over New Years, Lelouch had no trouble enticing him to the project, with the boyish man leaping for joy at the prospect of returning to the sport. While he only put in 5 million personally, his various subsidiary subordinates together brought 120 million Euros to the rescue package.

This proved sufficient to satisfy the debts, and while it was not enough to buy the company outright, the government appointed administrator offered a deal; their money would be accepted as an offer for the firms factory and design centre, which would be sufficient to allow it to continue business, and it would be allowed to resume operations by the 2nd of January, as opposed to going through the long completion procedure at the end of January.

Lelouch was fundamentally conflicted. It meant losing the cars that had been developed, as well as the rights to the Rosenberg name which was withheld by an indebted sponsor, however with preseason testing in February, Lelouch knew that the longer the team went without working, the worse it would get for them.

At some point, he had to pull the plug on negotiations, and accepted the deal on the 1st, ultimately settling out of court. It was not ideal, and with more time he could have regained the missing pieces, however he knew he had to set a deadline for the purchase. The team was handed over to the new investors on the second, and following a court filing on the 4th established the new private limited company that would operate out of Northamptonshire on the grounds of the old Rosenberg team, the Schwarzenritter-Lamperouge team was born.

And not a moment too soon; they had the whole winter's work to do in a month and a half, and any further delays that did not get their car made quicker were untenable.

Each year, every team builds a new car from the ground up, creating a brand new architecture from which they can develop a competitive package. Over the course of the year, the car is developed up off this platform until the concept approaches its limits, at which time a new concept is penned for the next season.

While the initial CFD drafts were lost to history, Lloyd was at least useful for something, and could from memory redraft them in under forty eight hours powered by nothing but energy drinks and pudding, which was excellent, but there was now a race against time to realise the concept in the factory, and given Lloyd's complex designs, this would be no mean feat given the technical assets at their disposal. It was a very literal case of the technology at hand not having caught up with the design concepts.

"So what did you call us in for?"

Lelouch shuffled slightly, turning his torso towards V.V, who sat lazily at the seat to his left, leaning back like a Roman at lunch who had presented the question, sounding almost irritated at his day being interrupted. The Frenchman sniffed, leaning briefly with his working hand on the chair before addressing the room.

"Given that we were not able to retain the cars, this years car will retain very few similarities with last years. The plan is to launch the R22 Gawain on February the 24th, which is a month and a half from now. However, as we build up a backlog of parts, we will face significant methodological struggles with our supply chain unless we can all keep our eyes and ears open and make sure everything works harmoniously. I've gathered you all here so we can iron out responsibilities and our timetable for the next two months. I trust each department has their own copy of the blueprints?"

All parties about the table nodded, having surveyed the draft documents. The car was characteristically ambitious, though with less appendages than some previous iterations. The car at present was limited to the fundamental shape, which would have to be developed over the season. This would mean their early season would be rough, but it was necessary to get the car ready for Australia. With that, Lelouch began to lay out his primary ambition.

"I have surveyed our human resources. On the document I've put in front of you, I've proposed a new command and organisational structure. Previously, all command and initiative flowed from Lloyd, which led to backlogs. With all due respect, Lloyd is an engineer, not a manager. What we need is to have him spending as great a percentage of his working hours engineering as opposed to micromanaging other members of the team."

Lloyd nodded to acknowledge his failings, while the Frenchman paused. Lelouch was bullish on the advantages of modular organisation, and particularly given the extent to which all aspects of the car would need a lot of concentrated attention, splitting up the areas as opposed to getting the entire factor behind individual elements, one at a time, would mean that the heavy-handed inspecificities of the design could be elaborated on and ironed out by a series of small teams.

"As such, I'm proposing a reformed structure of decentralised command. The engineering, design, and race mechanics' department will operate under the mandate of team heads, who will delegate to a series of squads who will be tasked with independent objectives. These small teams of three to five people will each be given a period to accomplish one task. This will mean that they can focus on their own works, rather than having the whole work force on single projects, which can contribute to inefficiencies. These squads will be supervised and advised by a leading Squad, Squad Zero, which will ensure the car as a cohesive unit is not compromised. These small units will build a rapport, improving morale, as well as improving task flexibility should concepts prove flawed."

Feeling immensely pleased with himself, Lelouch puffed up his chest and concluded "Based on my preliminary survey of the workforce, I've already drafted an initial plan for squad divisions, as well as a list of tasks for each one, per what I have been told by Lloyd."

Lelouch looked around the room, taking in the responses. V.V seemed quietly impressed at how thorough Lelouch had been, while Lloyd was simply happy to be relieved of the managerial work he hated.

"So where are we at? What issues do you see?"

Lloyd looked at the schedule in front of him, and took some time to think before responding, eventually commenting "The big issue right now is the floor of the car. We will only have one floor ready and installed in time for the shakedown in Britain on the 20th, two days after final assembly, and quite possibly the launch as well. A group of five will take about ten working days to print it, and another twenty to install. If this is the case, Day 1 and 2 of pre-season testing will be predominantly matching our floor and diffuser correlations. This also means that if we break it on the 20th, we're buggered on our launch."

Lelouch nodded, before commenting "Well, that's not the plan."

Tapping his knuckles, V.V interjected by asking Lloyd "Right now, do you still think getting to the shakedown is something that we should be planning to achieve?"

Seeming initially put off by V.V and his forward nature, Lloyd eventually replied with some hesitation "I'd say we have an 80% chance of making it. It'll depend on several things, but it definitely should be what we plan for."

Lelouch nodded, before allowing a period of silence to reign, providing for any individuals who wanted to voice any concerns. None presented themselves, and so he simply concluded with "Right then, hop to it."

With that, Lelouch turned to leave the room, stepping with conviction back into the hallway. He had taken to walking with a cane to use his good arm to prop up his sensitive torso, and poked it into the carpet with great force at each step. He was hoping to meet with Nunnally, however just as he stepped towards the front room, he was stopped by Cecile, who called his name to arrest his hurried walk.

Turning to acknowledge her, Lelouch sat his body weight on the heel of his hand before asking "Did you need something?"

"Well…" she hummed, clearly uncertain. "First of all, thank you for rescuing the team but… given… the circumstances, and what you've said, what are we going to do about Glinda?"

Lelouch frowned, as he considered the elephant in the room. Given that Rosenberg no longer existed, Suzaku's and Marrybel's contract to and with Rosenberg in their capacity as driver were moot. There was no way they were going to do anything but try to keep Suzaku on side, such was his almost boring level of competence. However, their other driver, Marrybel Glinda, while not poor, was certainly not worth earth and heaven to retain, and moreover, Lelouch was not neutral in the discourse regarding the rightful owner of the second seat.

With his newfound position, he now had an opportunity to insert a certain Rolo Lamperouge into the second seat, and this, though never made explicit, was certainly not a secret, not least to Marrybel herself, who was oscillating between frustration and an accepting dourness. She, indeed much like the factory as a whole, was simply waiting on the final statement from the board of directors.

Which, in turn, left the issue to Lelouch. He paused, not wanting to make too quick a ruling, particularly given how likeable the Canadian driver was, however he acknowledged he had to be decisive.

"Draft up a contract for the second option. Try and break it to Glinda gently."

Just a cheeky chapter drawn up now that my Contract lecture's been cancelled. Unfortunately the dearth of content is likely to continue until the summer, saving some change. Sorry about this, but you can leave a review if you're feeling nice. Cheers.

~Eth0