Kishins – I thought I made it pretty obvious Time Baron is a part of the story.
Number – Keep in mind, this is an alternative universe. Things and ideas and key events are bound to be different. In this scenario, the Lancelot is nearing completion, but it isn't quite ready yet, whereas in the series, it was combat-ready from the get-go. As for the Vincent, I just made it so that it was an independent mass-production model.
[*****]
"…And you're positive nobody can track it back to you or me?"
"Of course. I wouldn't have put it on the air otherwise."
"How did you get in contact with me to begin with?"
"I had an interested colleague seek out one of your cells, and the rest was history."
"I'll keep that in mind. Still. Britannia has a lot of influence and knowledge about the media and its inner workings, so your excuse to have simply 'found' the video tape might not be sufficient enough."
"I have evidence to back it up. Plus, I took the liberty of keeping these calls secret."
"I see. I look forward to our next transaction, Mr. Reid."
"You as well, Zero. Thank you for your time."
[*****]
EUROPEAN UNION – PRESENT TIME
Time Baron collapsed onto the ground, gasping for air. There were very few things in life that Time Baron actively, wholeheartedly hated, but the process of time-travelling was certainly one of them. The process of having your entire whole – not just your body, the individual molecules, but your mind, heart, and soul – dissolved and transported then reconstructed was harrowing. It left Time Baron breathless, lightheaded, exhausted, and quite pissed. Sure, it got the job done, but it didn't mean he had to enjoy that vaporizing feeling.
He pounded his fist on the ground over and over to absolutely no effect, but it did help him feel a little better. Endorphins and what not. He glanced to his side and saw Kaguya, who didn't look much better, with that ashen look upon her face. Time Baron shakily got up and took in his surroundings. The sky was claustrophobically gray, with small patches of blue dotting the skyline here and there; the grass was wet. The southern mountains were brilliantly white, and Lelouch could smell how fresh and clean the air was, a welcome relief from the vacuum-like nature of the White Space—
Wait a minute. That doesn't look like Fuji. Or Kita. Or any mountains in Japan. It looks kind of like… the Caucasus.
"Oh, fuck me. Kaguya, this isn't Japan!"
"No. This is… Turkey. Southern Caucasus."
"Turkey? God damn, now I'm hungry. How long until Istanbul?"
Kaguya pulled out a slick-looking, portable device and began fiddling with it. She'd called it the Interval Radar, though Time Baron had taken to calling it the Game Gear, because it looked almost identical to the SEGA Game Gear, which made Time Baron wonder if the engineers and time scientists in the White Space were closet game enthusiasts. The Interval Radar shot out a translucent beam of red light, and then just as quickly dissolved it.
"There's a city nearby. Artvin, Turkey."
"I had a Turkish penpal once. Crazy woman. Kept calling me Le-le-Lelouch."
"This is a city known for bull wrestling."
"Wonderful. Perhaps in Artvin we can find a map, or a bus that leads us to Istanbul. Or a horse. We've got a country to liberate, after all."
"Er, technically, you're going alone." Kaguya put the radar aside.
"What? Kaguya, come on. We're partners-in-crime. We've been doing for, basically, forever."
"I already explained the plan to you."
"You thought I was listening? Ha! Cute. You're adorable, Kaguya." He ruffled her hair.
Kaguya pushed his hand away with a bemused smile. "I need to fuse with the Kaguya from this time period. That way, I can begin instilling my own policies that will wind up benefitting the Lelouch from this period."
"How's about we just call them X-Lelouch and X-Kaguya?"
"Sure. I need to fuse with X-Kaguya."
"But I'm not fusing with X-Lelouch?" Time Baron folded his arms, trying to read Kaguya's expression.
"No! Given the path that X-Lelouch is currently taking, and given your… volatile personality, fusing together with him could be potentially disastrous! I need you to stay here in the European Union and help Viola Mancini and the other E.U. countries rise to victory."
"Psh. Easy as rocket science – I'll be done by tonight."
Kaguya shook her head, laughing. "I'd expect nothing less. But don't worry about me – just take this." She handed him a slip of paper with numbers on it. "This will help you keep in contact with me."
"Oh, what kind of weird technomagic gadget is this? A Crystal Time Communicator? Phase Radio? Interval Radar Mark 2? Chapter Broadcaster? Some other fifth thing?!"
"No, it's just my cellphone number."
"Oh."
"Contact me at the end of every day, informing me about your progress. No business calls or sales pitches. Or nudes."
"Can't promise anything. I suppose this is so long for now?"
Kaguya shifted her gaze towards his violet eyes. "We'll meet again soon enough. Just be patient and wait."
"K. Later."
Kaguya waved goodbye, and just like that, she vanished. Time Baron found himself missing her company, but he shook off his torpor when he heard Sonic and Waka Flocka appear out of thin air, gasping for breath.
"Yeah, join the club, boys. I used to have the power to end the world at my fingertips."
"Where the hell are we?" Sonic asked as he wobbled to his feet. "This doesn't look like Japan at all."
"Turkey."
"Turkey sucks," Waka Flocka proclaimed.
"Yeah, I hate this place, too," Time Baron said, looking towards the northeast. "Artvin is this way. Let's go there and grab some lunch, and then we'll liberate Turkey or something."
"Shouldn't we go to Norway first?" Sonic asked, stretching his legs. "I mean, after all, that's where most of the fighting is. Cornelia cut through Russia, then Finland, et cetera."
"Hmm… true. Let's find a way to contact Viola Mancini in some way. But first, a more pressing matter – lunch."
[*****]
KYOTO HOUSE
"…the Burais out to be sent to—"
Whoa. Kaguya immediately shot up out of her chair, clutching an object to her chest she thought was the Interval Radar, but she quickly got her bearings. The Command Room of the Kyoto House; subterranean, cool, metallic, a small office with a metal table and computer terminal. She'd forgotten how dark and moody the place was. To her right was a map showcasing the circuit-like design of the place: the personnel quarters, shooting range, armory, medical and engineering bays, the Archives. In front of her, the five Kyoto industrialists. Kirihara, seated at the center of the table; on either side of him, Hidenobu, Osakabe, Yoshino, and Tousai, whose beard was as majestic as she'd remembered.
"Are you alright, Kaguya?" Kirihara asked, tentatively.
Kaguya checked her cellphone, scanning the screen. 5:02 PM. So it's been about two hours since Le—Time Baron and I split up. It took two hours to fuse me with X-Kaguya? Sloppy. She returned her cellphone to her skirt pocket and slumped into her chair.
"Yes, perfectly fine," Kaguya proclaimed. "Just tired. What were we discussing?"
"You ought to get more sleep," Tousai advised, folding his hands under his chin. "We were talking about the Japanese Liberation Force's request for more Burai models."
Perfect! At least that hasn't changed. "Why? The JLF has remained in hiding. Shouldn't we distribute the Burais to some of the more active revolutionary cells?"
"Exactly what I said," Osakabe grumbled, drumming his fingers on the chair's armrest.
"The so-called resistance cells in Japan are little more than gangs," Kirihara spat, meeting Kaguya's eye. "I'd even go so far as to call them terrorists. Tohdoh and Katase's men are remnants of the Japanese military. They have served us well."
"There is one more group."
Kirihara raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"The Black Knights. Surely you've heard the news?"
Kirihara nodded warily. "Yes."
"They have been successful," Yoshino said. "Cleaning up crime in Area 11 under the Britannians' noses."
"You already know my thoughts on them," Tousai said, positively.
"And they're the same group that Naota Kozuki led before he died," Kaguya pointed out. "We can trust them, right?"
"We can trust Ohgi Kaname, and the Kozuki girl," Kirihara said, glancing at the others. "As for Zero? No. Not yet."
"Zero has achieved results," Kaguya countered.
"He's done police work. So what? That's paltry."
"Or maybe he's consolidating his forces, working on gaining an edge over the Area 11 Britannians."
The old man paused, heaving a weary sigh. "Thoughts?"
"I think we ought to consider them," Hidenobu said, the stiffness gone out of him. "They've recently been taking smaller resistance cells and pooling their resources and members together. And as much as I respect Katase and his men, they haven't done much for the revolutionary cause."
"They sit around and hide in a mountain bunker," Kaguya stressed. "The Black Knights are obtaining results. Results are what we need."
"We will consider this in the next meeting," Kirihara said, resolved. His words were final. "Until then, let's keep as we are. Keep the Liberation Force's request in limbo – as it is, they've been draining us of our supplies, and we will need time to produce more Burais without the Britannian authorities noticing. Keep me notified about Viceroy Jeremiah Gottwald's actions; if he makes any sudden moves in regards to Kyoto, let me know immediately. Dismissed for now, my friends."
[*****]
NORWAY – A WEEK LATER
Viola Mancini, in a brilliant pink coat, was overlooking a wide, circular screen. Oslo's city streets were displayed below on the readout. In front of her was the Norwegian Minister, Einar Landro, surrounded by maps, ammunition boxes, stacks of field reports, passports. About a dozen or so people were milling about the room, exchanging information or discussing the situation; they were the Norwegian field commanders and intelligence chiefs. Viola's policy was that including them in the decision-making was vital; they were the ones doing a majority of the fighting and day-to-day decision making.
"Cornelia li Britannia is approaching from the North," Einar began, drawing his fingers across the display. "We have lesser warlords with correspondingly smaller units holding them back along the Vollanvegen and the surrounding Mosjoen area, but we've received intelligence that they've requested reinforcements from the thick of Sweden."
Viola Mancini laughed, a crisp-sounding chuckle. "They have no policy. They're rushing their soldiers from one fight to the other in a bid to take control of Scandinavia as quickly as possible. Have you considered cutting off their supply routes and distribution centers in the Britannia-occupied of centers in Sweden?"
"Tried and burned in the process," Einar groaned, presenting a strip of information to her. "They have it well-maintained."
"Ces idiots. So they're coordinated when they want to be, and chaotic when they need it the least. It's a vacuum of policy. So why are they making such progress into Norway?"
"They used the Barents and Norwegian seas."
"Shrewd," Viola said, whistling, twisting the readout's parameters this way and that. "How do you have your soldiers positioned in Oslo, the northern defensive lines?"
"Like a half-circle," Einar said, examining the map. "Grieg's units are in Eggedal, Fla, and his Knightmare units are along the westernmost Vollanvegen. Harket is in Trondheim, his tank crews are in Spongdal, Kattem. Lie is in Lillehammer, her units divided amongst the sectors of Hamar and Gjovik. In Dombas and Bjorli, we have Henriksen and Mikael pooling their resources together. On the eastern front, we have about a dozen more – about four of those are refugee commanders from Sweden. If Britannia progresses any further, they'll be surrounded on opposing sides. And even if they try to go for the Western seaboard, they'd have to deal with the units stationed there."
"What are the total numbers? From last you checked, anyway."
"Four thousand Knightmares, a little under twenty thousand troops."
The numbers are not in our favor. Viola Mancini simply gave a confident smile."How do you have your forces lined up along the Vollanvegen?"
"Relatively bunched up, almost straight."
"Spread out your forces," Mancini said, scanning the readout. "I understand your logic, but it would line you up perfectly for an artillery strike. Your field commanders can decide how to order the individual soldiers and ground vehicles, but we cannot afford to readily lose our Estrellas. But heaven is on your side, Einar."
He looked hopeful, almost childishly so. "My request was accepted?"
"Indeed! Italy and Denmark are working on constructing more Knightmares for you. In addition, we're currently combining our resources and soldiers together. It's hasty, but it should suffice, even if Cornelia manages to storm Oslo. Which she won't!"
"This is very happy news, Lady Viola," Einar said, taking a drink of water from a canteen.
"Viola!" Her secretary, Nicolas, came into the room, saluting to the commanders in the room. He was carrying a tablet, and his face read shock and awe. "I have a message for you. It's urgent!"
Who could it be? The Swedish ministers or commanders? Maybe Denmark has an update on the events. "Is it so important, Nicolas? There are pressing matters—"
"You really aren't going to believe this. I'm talking with a young man right now, and he wants to speak with both you and Sir Einar."
"Then by all means, let me see!"
Nicolas hooked the tablet up to an open terminal, and Viola's eyes fell upon a young man – very young. He couldn't have been much older than eighteen, but he had the eyes of someone incredibly experienced and worldly. His thick, wild hair fell open his head, tracing the lines of his cheeks, and he had the vaguely infuriating disposition of someone who knew more than anyone else in the room.
"Do you know who I am? Or, for the record, who any of us are?" Viola began, uneasily.
"Duh. The Mancini smile. And, of course, the respectable Mr. Landro and his peons."
"Peons?!" One of the commanders began.
"This is a military, tactical, and political matter. It's… a little important. Shouldn't you be in school, young man? Unless you happen to be part of the E.U. resistance."
"Nope. Consider me a supporter."
"How did you contact us?"
"I'm in Turkey right now."
Viola blinked. The Turkish ministers haven't been in contact with me for months. They've been plain busy with their counter-attacks against the invading Britannian forces from Russia. A new breakthrough? "Do you work for Prime Minister Azel?"
"Eh, more like she works for me."
"You're being very cryptic," Einar spat.
"He could be a spy," one of the intelligence chiefs pointed out. "Are you from Istanbul?"
"Do I look like a native?" the young man on screen responded.
"Very few people talk to me with such a lack of formality," Viola said, impressed, folding her hands on her chin. "What's your name, and what do you have to say for yourself? There's little time to waste, and if you've come to just chat, please save it for later, in a more reserved setting."
"Heh. You can call me Time Baron. And to still a line from my twin, I've come to change everything!"
[*****]
AREA 11 BRITANNIAN LABORATORY
"It's combat-ready?"
"All but," Lloyd proclaimed, with a content smile on his face. He was pouring an ungodly amount of milk and sugar into his coffee. "We've buffed out the bugs of the VARIS and the SR-71 Landspinners are working perfectly. Our helpful devicer's readings are gradually increasing day by day. When we sent the test results to Viceroy Jeremiah Gottwald, his science board gave it an 89.7% approval rating. Lancelot will brave the daylight soon enough. Coffee?"
Cecile took the cup and drank, proceeding to wince and nearly spit it out. "More sweetener. What about Suzaku? All he's done is flight simulation and training ground practices."
Lloyd poured some sweetener and milk into the coffee, with a few lumps of sugar. God, he's coating it.
"Something tells me that boy won't go down very easily," Lloyd said. "Drink up."
Cecile lowered her voice. "We're lucky that the Purists haven't taken him into custody by now. Or killed him. Considering their track records."
"Cecile Croomy, that sounds dangerously like treason," Lloyd said, rising to his feet with a catlike smile on his face.
"Lloyd! I know you agree with me."
"You like sweet stuff, don't you?" Lloyd pushed the coffee cup closer to her.
"There have already been riots. You've seen how brutal some of the Purist enforcers can be!"
"They won't be able to touch Suzaku, because he's bound to us by law," Lloyd countered, adjusting his spectacles and gazing at a data monitor. "What are they supposed to do to an official court document? Burn it? Not without violating at least half a dozen laws."
They got rid of Clovis. Who can tell what they'll do next?
"And besides, I doubt Suzaku's going to go without a fight," Lloyd said, sitting in his swivel chair and spinning it in a circle. "He has a reason for staying."
"Lancelot?"
Lloyd's eyes roamed upward, stopping his spinning so he wouldn't get dizzy. "I managed to get the Shinjuku morgue records (lot of red tape and bureaucracy later). He'd been asking me for days about some fellow called Lelouch, wondering if he was alive or dead. The name sound familiar to you?"
"Not a clue. Is he a fellow soldier, like Suzaku?"
"Ha! Suzaku, an Eleven? A friend in the military? No, this Lelouch fellow is a civilian. And he's very much alive, as it turns out. That seemed to put a hop in Kururugi's step." Lloyd resumed his careless spinning. "Drink up."
Cecile had no real desire to drink or eat, but decided to take a sip. "Not bad. You went overboard on the sugar again."
"Black coffee is for the soulless."
"Lloyd, do you wonder if the world is falling apart?"
"It's always been falling apart," he proclaimed ebulliently. "It's just more apparent nowadays than it used to be."
"Do you think a perfect world is possible?"
Lloyd broke into a spasm of laughing. "Hahaha! No. There's a pretty good world hidden away, just barely out of our sight. I can make out what the shape of it is, but not the finer details. But perfect? No, no. Some of our greatest wishes don't turn out as we would hope them to."
"I suppose…"
"But waxing philosophic and trying to make a better world are two different things," Lloyd said, directing his attention towards the data monitor again. "So long as we have our child, Lancelot, then everything will be okay in the end! We aren't just building a robot, Miss Cecile – we're building the future."
Cecile smiled lightly. "No arguments from me… Oh! Did you hear?"
"Yes, yes," Lloyd said, as if he was a psychic. "Prince Schneizel wants to visit this Friday, do a checkup on the Lancelot, to see if his money has been used properly. Which it has!"
"He said he was bringing someone along with him, one of his sisters," Cecile said, calling up some screens from her terminal. A Royal Prince and Princess in the same room with me. I'm going to be a nervous wreck in three days' time.
"Good! He can have another witness to Lancelot's awesome power."
"Do you think Prince Schneizel going to be in any danger traveling here? With the Opposition and recent terrorist activity?"
"Who, Zero? He who fights Britannian monsters? Schnitzel's got nothing to worry about."
[*****]
VIOLA MANCINI'S JET
Lady Viola had to give this Time Baron type some credit; his sheer audacity was inspiring, if completely ridiculous.
"…That's quite a story, monsieur."
"True, right? Nobody ever seems to believe me."
From her seat, Viola had a good view of the open night sky. There were hundreds of stars surrounding a cloud-covered sky; the moon was brilliantly white. A few hours riding the nightline and Viola would always feel like herself again. Something about the skies soothed her – reminded her of the world's natural beauty. Even if she was breathing in the bottled air of a transporter jet, rigged for night reconnaissance, talking with a man via webcam.
"An outcast prince of Britannia. No wonder you don't want to reveal your name to me."
"Hey, that's the beauty of secrets. Everyone has some. Some are just more important than others."
"So you came to the European Union. Excellent choice! It is a beautiful place, or collection of places, rather. But I have to ask, ex-Prince Time Baron. Why did you come to me? What do you want? Security? Money? Guarantees of survival and support?"
"I have a hedgehog and a rapper as part of my entourage."
Viola opted not to question that. "You should join the circus, in that case."
"Are you kidding? The pay is horrendous."
"I can imagine! But you are evading my question."
"Simple. I want to work for you so I can help out my penpal."
Viola Mancini leaned back upon her chair, took a drink of wine. "You want to work for me? In what capacity? What's your skill level? What are you going to bring to the table that my circuited network of over three hundred correspondents and field commanders can't bring me?"
"Results. I know the Britannians better than anyone else. I am one, after all."
"What exactly are you asking for?"
"Not much. Command of a couple hundred thousand of E.U. soldiers and Knightmares would be ideal, though."
"Pour l'amour de Dieu. Is that all?" Viola drawled.
"Mmhm. And, of course, I'd like to be a part of the European Chamber."
"Such outrageous requests, and you ask them so easily! There's some method, and mercy, in what you're asking enough, but I'm afraid I simply cannot trust you, monsieur."
"Why? The Turkish Prime Minister guy trusts me. Ask him yourself!"
"Who is this penpal?"
Time Baron gave a mighty laugh. "Oh, man, you haven't heard about what's going on in Japan, have you?"
"Japan doesn't really pertain to our interests, non."
And then Time Baron told her everything, about Zero, the Purists, the revolution taking place in Japan. Viola's expressions varied throughout the exposition, from pure puzzlement to surprise to amusement. By the end, she was laughing, and laughing hard.
"Mon dieu! The Japanese are all crazy!"
"Oh, man, you have no idea. And you know, Zero reminds me a lot of you, in some ways."
Viola raised an eyebrow, adjusted her hair. "Oh? How so?"
"He's a poser."
The good and powerful Viola Mancini was caught short. "Excuse me?"
"Look at you! You're the complete package. Formal uniform, confident poise, perfectly-groomed hair and well-used makeup. Unshakable optimism and hope. But I can tell it's all an act. You're an act. You're damn good at it, but it doesn't change facts. I can see how exhausted you are – it's in your eyes."
"Of course I am exhausted. I am fighting a war."
"You're a politician fighting a soldier's war. But still, who are you trying to convince? Yourself? Snow is white because it's forgotten what color it's supposed to be."
Viola shakily folded her hands together. "Where did you hear that?"
"An old friend. It's only a matter of time until confrontation day against Britannia. One day, they're going to make their way through Paris, and you know it. You're dreading it. And you're crumbling under the weight of your own fabricated lie, aren't you?"
"…How does this relate to this Zero fellow?"
"Because he's the greatest liar of all time. He can't even be honest to himself."
Viola leaned back in her chair, and only then did she realize how exhausted she was, physically and emotionally. Months and months of strategies, counter-strategies, plans, decisions, negotiations, traveling to and fro without sufficient sleeping, eating, or drinking, had been gradually tugging at the inner strings of her soul. She was the center of a personality cult, at least amongst the Parisian populace and the European Chamber, but that came with an incredible amount of pressure and added expectations. If she failed, the world would never forget it.
So yes, she was tired. But Viola Mancini wasn't one to show it. "On second thought, Time Baron, maybe you can be of use to me."
"Yuh-huh. I already knew that, but go on anyway."
"If what you say is true, and that you're secretly helping this Zero type, then I can indirectly deal with the Britannian front in Area 11. That's a very important, strategical avenue for Britannia. It would be terrible if something were to happen to them there."
"Precisely! You catch on quickly."
"Very well! I'll help you."
"Great!"
"But I'm not giving you control of the E.U. region armies."
Time Baron pouted. "But why? I'm really, really good at this!"
"I can't just give away military support."
"I ruled the world once!"
Confused, Viola shook her head and stretched her fingers. "Actually, here's what I think you should do."
As Viola explained her plan, the grin on Time Baron's face grew wider and wider.
"God damn. That's good. Like, really good. Even I couldn't have dreamt that up, and that's saying something."
"It's risky. Potentially dangerous, mostly for you. And you're okay with that?"
"Hell yeah. Bring it on."
So reckless. But he's motivated, at least. "In that case, I'll live up to my end of the deal, and I'll consider having one of my Knightmare producers head over to Area 11. See if she can tilt the scales a little bit."
"Cool. I'll keep in contact or whatever. See you, Lady Viola."
"You as well, Time Baron."
The call disconnected and Viola took the opportunity to rub her eyes.
[*****]
AREA 11
"Hello?"
"Q-1."
"Zero? I… may I ask why you're calling so early, sir?"
"Go to HQ immediately. Get ready for combat."
