Slayer Anderson
JUSTICE III
A Code Geass/Misc. Crossover Fanfiction
10/19/10
I believe that all government is evil, and that trying to improve it is largely a waste of time.
-H.L. Mencken (1880 – 1956)
If you would be a real seeker after truth, it is necessary that at least once in your life you doubt, as far as possible, all things.
-Rene Descartes (1596 – 1650)
It takes too much energy to be against something unless it's really important.
-Madeleine L'Engle (1918 - )
If God had wanted us to vote, he would have given us candidates.
-Jay Leno (1950 - )
The one thing no enlisted man ever wants to hear is 'affix bayonets.' Close-quarters combat is the mosh pit of war…if the moshers were out to gut you like a fish.
-Slayer Anderson (1988 - )
Chapter 4 – Cults of Personality
Bamn!
"Lelouch, get your elbow out of-ah!"
Bamn!
"Kallen, that isn't my elbow."
Bamn! Bamn!
"Hey you two, can't you get off each other for one-ow, ow, Ow! What was that for!"
Bamn! Bamn!
"Tamaki, has anyone ever told you to shut your mouth?"
Bamn!
"Yeah, but I usually just-uh! Now I know I wasn't touching you this time!"
Bamn! Bamn!
"No, that was just for being stupid."
Ba-Chink!
"Wait…what was that? Was that a lock? Did someone actually lock an air duct? What purpose could a lock on an air duct possibly serve?"
"Gee, Lelouch, I don't know…maybe in case people were crawling in the duct system?"
"I refuse to believe that a facility which didn't have the foresight to place an emergency shut-off on the ventilation system to prevent this kind of disaster would have the innate paranoia necessary to foresee this kind of eventuality!"
"Ack! Zero…could you, maybe, get your foot out of-"
"-ah, sorry Tamaki."
"No prob…so, whadda' we do now?"
Silence.
Cha-chik!
"Lelouch…is that your gun? Why did you-"
BLAM! Crash!
"Goddammit Lelouch!" Kallen screeched, tumbling to the floor in a painful heap on the floor with her comrades. The entire groaning mass of limbs and flesh was motionless for a long moment after the impact before Kalln slowly, purposefully, kicked Lelouch in the shin. The black prince gave a startled and highly embarrassing yelp of pain before twisting to glare at the redhead. The staring match dragged on, neither yielding an inch against the other.
"Where…?" Tamaki moaned lowly, slowly dragging himself into a sitting position and looking around. The light was still dim, but somewhat brighter than the other rooms they had stumbled into. A set of computer terminals on the far side of the room glowed in the dark, casting silhouetting shadows over the rest of the massive space. Thankfully and to his continued mental health, he didn't see anything that looked alive or was lurching in their general area.
"It looks like some kind of storage area…or testing facility," Lelouch considered, slowly standing from his own position on the floor.
"What makes you say that, A_s?" Kallen asked bitingly. "Does your genius extend further than shooting out locks on air ducts?"
"It worked," Lelouch argued sourly, "Besides there wouldn't have been any other result had we removed the lock another way. We would have still fallen."
"You could have at least warned us," Kallen hissed.
Lelouch scowled for a moment before relenting, "Fine. If we happen to ever be locked inside of an air vent a dozen feet above the floor I'll be sure to ask permission before freeing us."
Kallen rolled her eyes. I forgot this was Zero for a minute…or was that pig-headedness all Lelouch? Come to think of it, neither would ever admit they were wrong…does this mean he's actually twice as stubborn as he usually acts…to have enough attitude for both the Ice King and Zero?
"-obvious that this room has, at the very least, it's own closed power grid, probably it's own energy filler as well." Lelouch voice calmly drone. Kallen almost sighed at the analytical monotone she'd come to expect from the Black Knight's leader. "Damn, the computers are password protected."
Lelouch scowled from his seat at one of the computers and rose, moving cautiously about the room as he inspected the nearest monolithic steel vault. The massive rectangle of metal was nearly featureless and almost seamless. A small keypad on one of the short sides was the only revealing feature, one that could be found identically placed on each of the large tomb-like constructs. "Storage containers," Lelouch said dispassionately. Doubtless they would contain some insight into the facility, or, at best, possibly some useful equipment.
If they could be opened.
Turning away from the vault he'd been studying, Zero stalked in between the isles without any specific direction or goal in mind. The room, wherever it was in relation to wherever they had been…was enormous and, while there was operable levels of electricity present, hardly any was being 'wasted' on adequate lighting. Other than the occasional chemical-light inset into the ground, the large space was just as dark as all the other regions they'd ventured into, leaving the ceiling to fall away into featureless blackness above them.
If I'm completely honest with myself, there is little hope of us getting out of this facility alive at this point. I'd expected to find some manner of map or layout we could use…or even a survivor of whatever went on here...which is seeming increasingly less likely. Still, if the scale of this place is as big as I think it is…we could wander around for days (if not weeks or months) before finding anything remotely useful. As completely lost and cut off as we are currently…we may need to start preparing for the worst.
Abruptly, all three revolutionaries stopped.
"Do you hear…that?" Tamaki asked, giving voice to their collective thoughts.
"It depends…do zombies sing?" Kallen asked cautiously.
"Its either that or we've all finally gone off the deep end," Lelouch concurred sarcastically. "Still…as much as I'd like to admit that only the undead could possibly butcher 'Oh Britannia' that badly…it looks like we might have a survivor."
"My bet's still on a singing zombie," Tamaki contradicted.
"Duly noted." Lelouch stated with a straight face. Maybe it was the sleep-deprivation or the reality-straining events of the last two hours, but Tamaki was actually starting to seem more amusing than frustrating and annoying. Yes, this would definitely be a symptom of a larger mind-destroying circumstance. "If I start laughing at his jokes, shoot me," He hissed to Kallen.
"Yes sir," Kallen replied without a trace of sarcasm.
"We're going to approach," Zero said quietly after a moment had passed, all traces of 'Lelouch' vanishing from his face. "I'll go ahead…Tamaki, Q-1, come up on my left and right…keep distance to have line-of-sight for any attackers in front of me. Conserve ammunition, remember headshots."
"Yes sir," His subordinates chorused quietly.
Both Kallen and Tamaki would work better with less constrictive orders, he knew and, keeping that in mind, Lelouch set off towards the sound cautiously, one hand gripping his pistol tightly. He was down to his last two magazines (the loaded one included), but he'd rather not die in this hellhole with unspent ammunition. Given the tension, the darkness, and the oppressive atmosphere of the facility in general, the situation was only worsened by the length of the walk itself. He carefully noted the quiet footfalls on his left and right, his…subordinates, comrades, friends?-a question for another time…associates remaining a constant, lockstep, comfort even out of sight. Approaching the noise, though, he was more and more sure of it's humanity…whether that was a good thing or not remained to be seen. Finally, though, the rows and rows of key-pad locked storage lockers ended, revealing a wide open space strewn with computer workstations, paper reports, lab tables with machines half-assembled, and a large clear structure backlit by two strips of electrical lighting.
A…wind tunnel?
For whatever purpose, likely the testing of models and exterior KMF components, there was a large, clear glass tube affixed on both ends with sealed caps…a wind tunnel. Inside, he could see an airplane propeller on one end and a the shape of a man resting against the other. His considerable stomach rose and fell with a deep basso voice that, despite being somewhat pleasant, cut lyrics too short and put the wrong stress on certain lines of the Britannian national anthem. It was obvious that the man, once upon a time, had had considerable talent or skill as a vocalist. Sadly, those days were long gone,
When Britain first, at Heaven's command
Arose from out the azure main;
This was the charter of the land,
And guardian angels sang this strain:
"Rule, Britannia! rule the waves:
"Britons never will be slaves."
Lelouch pinched the bridge of his nose…of all the people it could possibly be…
Sitting in the wind tunnel, the door locked from the outside, was Bartley Asprius, formerly of some fame as the sub-viceroy of Area 11, Assistant to the late Prince Clovis, and terrible singer. Strangely enough, Lelouch disliked the man all the more for the fact that he had not always been a simpering bootlicker. There once was a time when the black prince could remember Bartley escorting a younger Clovis to and from Ares villa as the Captain of his guard.
The moment seemed to freeze as Lelouch's thoughts quickened. Why did it have to be him? Why couldn't it be Charles? Charles wouldn't be happy seeing me as Zero, but the man might have understood. Bartley was one of Clovis' personal aides before 'Zero' had killed him, which had necessitated using Geass on the man. The order to leave the G-1 base for a specific period of time and forget my identity means that I can't Geass Bartley into submission now.
And Bartley might remember me.
Kallen and Tamaki knew I was a noble…but not a prince. There were their reactions to consider, then there were Bartley's own to consider. The clothing I'm wearing throws my two identities into stark relief against each other. I could kill him…claim he came at me…but the plexiglass of the wind tunnel is over a foot thick…likely to prevent shrapnel from injuring someone if a part exploded. If I let him out to kill him, Kallen and Tamaki would find it strange that I killed an unarmed man and…if he yells that name, that name from so many years ago…it would be too late and too damning a reaction anyway.
Bloody F_cking H_ll!
Destiny must really have it out for me today.
As if alerted by the very thoughts in the black prince's mind, Bartley chose that moment to turn, no doubt expecting nothing more than the same scenery he'd been looking at for hours. He started badly when he saw Lelouch, the prospect of renewed human contact more important than who was on the other side of the glass…for a moment, anyway. Lelouch's hand went for his bedraggled and tattered cape, almost bringing it up in time to shield his face.
Almost.
Even in the relatively low lighting, they were too near each other for it to make any difference; the rotund man's reaction was instant as his voice cut off and he looked straight at Lelouch. A silent heartbeat passed as Bartley opened his mouth to respond, the jaw falling slack as he truly saw who his visitor was. There was recognition in his eyes now, a horrible, gnawing recognition…and pitch black terror. His skin went white as paper, his eyes bulged, and he fell to the floor, crawling backwards to press himself against the opposite side of the wind tunnel. Then, the screaming started…
"GHOST! Spirit, Demon-get thee away from me! Leave me be! You are not welcome here! Come not in the taunting guise of long dead friends and dear ones! Dare not wear the face of a-"
"BARTLEY!" Lelouch roared cutting the courtier off before he said that word, casting his eyes about to make sure none of the things, zombies, were approaching. The coast was clear, good. "Stop being an idiot and talk to me like a reasonable human being."
Bartley did the only thing he could.
He passed out.
Lelouch heard light footsteps from behind him as Kallen's voice rang out dry sarcasm and startled awe warring for dominance, "Get that reaction a lot, do you?"
He silently pressed a hand to his forehead, trying to stave off the inevitable headache.
The GX-01's were soundproofed completely; this was especially true of Sancia's KMF due to its modified right arm and the massive firearm that replaced it. Outside of the Frame, single round would sound much like a medieval cannon going off at point-blank range. The Twofold Anti-Knightmare Evolving Rifle, or TAKER, was probably the most effective piece of conventional technology that Madd had conceived of. Granted, the Geass technology developed from CC's cells was amazing, but nothing that could or would be allowed to proliferate throughout the military.
Coupled with the two-stage ammunition it fired as well as Sancia and Lucretia's cooperative Geass powers, the rifle had been the bane of many regular troops and terrorists alike. Under ideal conditions, the weapon would be super-accurate, armor-piercing, and completely debilitating for any enemy to face in open combat.
"I requested sniping fire, not suppression!" Alice snapped, her Frame moving unnaturally quickly.
These were not 'ideal' conditions.
"Cut the backtalk," Sancia replied sharply. "This Frame is more trouble than we usually get…I'd say it even has better specs than our own GX-01's! I can't read it's movements, but it seems like it can read us!"
Alice cursed sharply, giving voice to their thoughts as she kicked-started her Geass. The world around her slowly to a crawl, the potent cocktail of stimulants and artificial neuro-transmitters embedded within her body speeding up her mind to keep pace with her body and Frame. The mystery Frame leapt clear of her oncoming sword-strike, dodging by inches as a rocket-powered Slash Harken tipped with a massive knife-point lanced out, sunk into the side of a building, and pulled the suit out of the way of both Alice Frame and Sancia's latest volley of fire. Alice growled lowly in her throat and stepped her Geass power up to the next level for a fraction of a second, dodging the bullets with unbelievable speed.
"Gah!"
"Alice, you okay?" Dalque questioned, her voice tinged with concern.
"Fine," Alice muttered, clutching her heart with one hand as she guided the GX-01 Alpha to follow the mystery unit. "Had to take it up a notch!"
"Alice, keep your speed down, I almost hit you with that last set," Sancia ordered. "Remember, you have school in the morning…it'd be a shame to have you miss because you're doped up on suppressants."
"Roger," Alice grinned sickly.
Lucretia interrupted, her Geass tracking the Frame. "Target moving west on the Main Avenue."
"I'm ready," Dalque informed, her own Geass wreathing her in the powerful confidence of pure strength.
Nemo grinned, she'd never had this much fun!
She'd been worried that the Knightmare would prove uncooperative or difficult to pilot, but the Frame responded to her like a second skin. Knowledge she'd never learned snapped to the forefront of her mind, directing her actions; each thought flowing into the machine as if the controls were barely even there. Her Blonde Knives, the long rocket-powered spikes on the left and right of her Frame shot out, dragging her away from a particularly accurate sword swing.
And these Knightmare pilots, whoever they were, were good. They were obviously used to working together to outclass their foes and take easy wins…she could tell that she was throwing them off by dodging and weaving out of their attacks' range. Something spiked in Nemo's 'view' at that moment, though, that made her grin widen. Instantly, possibilities flew through her mind's eye, probabilities flashing towards an inevitable conclusion.
Duck left, turn right, huge explosion.
Turn left, duck right, sniper's bullets.
Back-flip into a pair of glowing blades.
And a hundred others.
But, what if I do this…
The eighteen wheeler came in at an arc, flying unerringly towards her. Nemo leapt, spun, and missed the thrown vehicle by a hair's breath, placing it between her and Sancia as a pair of Blonde Knives flashed out at Dalque. The dark-skinned Irregular flinched back in surprise, her Frame stumbling…and Nemo's sword flashed out-
Alice stared.
Whatever that Frame was, it had moved, moved in a way that defied description and possibility, to evade that blow. The move was too fast, too agile for anything human; it was utterly unbelievable that whoever was in that Knightmare would have been able to move that fluidly without some kind of assistance-chemical boosters, a geass, something. Alice scowled as the Knightmare moved to bring it's sword (a Japanese blade, she noted idly) to bare on Dalque. Alice's geass flashed brightly as her KMF practically flew over the blazing terrain of the ruined highway, the flames hardly touching her as two MVS blades whipped out, stopping just short of piercing the Knightmare's neck, in turn, stopping it's blade only inches away from Dalque's cockpit.
"Don't move," Alice growled over a wide-range frequency, hiding her terror behind anger. If the pilot moved to kill Dalque, she wouldn't be able to stop them in time. Her only real hope was to talk the pilot down…if they had their radio on. And…talking someone down had never been one of her strong points.
A view-screen popped up across her cockpit window, a smiling girl her own age reflected across the communications channel. She didn't worry about being seen, information packages from the GX-01's were under heavy encryption at all times. Still, despite the fact that she couldn't have any idea who she was talking to, she still smiled-or, more precisely, smirked. "And here I hadn't expected much of a fight…it's nice to know that Britannia isn't only made of those slack-jawed dupes I let a few blocks back."
Alice's scowl deepened, taking in the girl's casual tone easy body language as well as her odd appearance. Her hair was a startling platinum blonde, a shade to yellow to be considered silver, while her eyes were an alarming blood red. The small portion of her body that was visible was encased in a black bodysuit with strange bulges of armor plates. "Identify yourself terrorist!"
The other blonde raised an eyebrow, "Oh, terrorist is it now? Earlier it was hero after I saved a young lady from being raped by Britannian police officers. Which one is it, I wonder?"
Alice's face didn't change, but inwardly she cringed. The casual way which the girl debated with her…this wasn't a normal 'terrorist'…this was someone who lived and breathed battle, who looked for a reason to make war. This was someone for whom death and killing came easily, "So you're a vigilante then? Well, if what you say is true, you should come in and make a report…such behavior shouldn't be tolerated. What's your name?"
"Nemo," Nemo said easily, smirking at the almost unnoticeable confused pause in her enemy's rant and, before the electronically-altered could respond, she continued. "My name is Nemo, for I am no one…for do not the governments of the world say that 'no one' is more fit to judge the guilty than they? I find the treasonous, the evil, the bloodthirsty…and I will kill them."
Alice's eye twitched. This wasn't banter, this was rhetoric. Maybe she was wrong…maybe this wasn't someone who would attack without provocation…maybe this was worse…a zealot.
Oh, Joy.
Nemo smiled inside the KMF. The 'proclamation' of her intent had been part spontaneous and part true belief. Granted, her 'ultimatum' had made her sound just a bit crazy, but that was partially the idea. It hadn't been all that hard, either, to make that speech up…she'd just asked herself two questions, and the answers had come to her in a flash of inspiration. All she'd had to do was ask herself what the two most intelligent, the two smartest people she knew would say in her position.
What would Lelouch say?
What would Zero say?
"You're crazy, aren't you?" Dalque asked, having grown irritated at the mecha holding the sword to her chest. "One person can't do the things you're talking about! Britannia will crush you like an ant!"
Alice cursed, she couldn't predict how this…'Nemo' would react. Shut up Dalque!
"Well, one person is all it takes to rule the Empire, isn't it? Besides...if they want to, they can certainly try!" Nemo chirped happily, "Trust me…I'm shaking!"
The two Irregulars blinked.
"In anticipation!"
The next moment, where they were staring in surprise at the strange vigilante, was the moment Nemo struck. Two Blonde Knives rotated and lashed out at the GX-01 Alpha, knocking Alice away like a rag doll. Nemo spun her katana artfully and, with a flash of four more rocket-powered harkens, she was gone, flying through the air and out of the way of a half-dozen shots from the TAKER rifle. There was a breathless moment where Alice recovered footing, Sancia cursed the unknown machine, and Dalque marveled at the fact that she was still alive.
As Alice moved to help her still-prone comrade, she groaned audibly.
"What?" Dalque asked, alarmed at the thought of someone else going wrong tonight.
"She carved 'Nanashi' on your chest in kanji," Alice spat irritably.
"Son of a Bi-" Dalque began, her voice rising cutely into an angry tenor.
"We've got regular military incoming," Lucretia notified, "A full squad of Glouchesters and Southerlands. Madd is sending a retreat command. Orders, Sancia?"
"Pull-back," Sancia growled, her temper rising as well. "Its not like those Knightmare jocks are gonna' be able to take that monster down. We'll have another chance."
All four of the specialized Knightmares would be gone within five minutes, leaving only craters and wreckage for the regular military to clean up.
It goes without saying what they thought of whoever made the mess.
There are a few universal constants.
If Lelouch knew exactly how proliferated this particular technology was, though, he'd most likely call it a 'multi-versal' constant. Nevertheless, Tamaki and Kallen had dutifully armed themselves with the miracle material and, once again, it had proved invaluable. It was the soldier's bunkmate, the terrorist's best friend, and the average joe's handy helper…there were countless variations on it, from cammo, to silver, to traffic-cone orange that had become popular in the construction departments recently. Tamaki, while he worked, even told an amusing story about the time he'd actually fixed a knightmare using the stuff…
At any rate, they soon had Bartley bound and gagged.
With Duct Tape.
It was, of course, black.
Lelouch sighed, internally torn. Bartley was a real liability. The man's physical shape was something to be openly mocked, his proficiency with a firearm (never mind what it had been years before) was highly questionable, and his loyalty was definitively towards Britannia. Worse yet, he'd seen Lelouch's face and recognized him. Kallen and Tamaki had proven able to accept the startling truth of Zero's civilian identity, but would they be able to accept Lelouch's former existence as a prince?
That was something he wasn't ready to risk.
Not now, maybe not ever.
If he could help it.
"Q-1, Tamaki," Lelouch called, his two comrades looking up from their guard positions at the side of the unconscious man. Both looked up, their eyes locking with their leader's gaze. "Where there's one survivor, we might find more. Give me a wall-to-wall search of this room, check any of the lockers if they're open, but don't get out of each other's sight. I'd rather not explain that to Ohgi. Understood?"
"Sir!"
Tamaki grinned at the orders, though Kallen discretely rolled her eyes. Lelouch nodded, "Good. I'll be watching our new friend…I'd rather he not be eaten alive until we've at least gotten a few answers out of him." This got sarcastic grins from both of them as they set out to search the room, guns loaded and a renewed wariness evident in their step at the reminder of exactly what they were facing.
Lelouch sighed, idly wondering when, exactly, he'd become so adept at lying. It's miraculous enough that we've actually found someone alive down here…there's less than a snowball's chance in H_ll of finding another survivor. Still, it was as good an excuse as any…now I just need to figure out what to do with Bartley. There were many different ways he could approach the situation, but only one which would appeal to Bartley's status as a lower member of the royal court. Military men, even one as elevated in status as Bartley, understood force and the threat of physical attack much more easily than an appeal to sensibility or emotion. Lelouch much preferred the fine manipulations of the scalpel to the blunt force of the hammer, but in this instance…
Lelouch sighed again and stepped over to the unconscious man, raising his hand and delivering a firm slap to Bartley's face. The reaction was immediate as the obese man's back arched, his body responding to the 'wake up call' instinctively, even if bound. There were a few seconds of confusion as Bartley struggled in his bonds before resigning himself to being unable to move…
Well, at least until he saw Lelouch.
The black prince rolled his eyes at the blank, expressionless terror on the man's face. "Bartley, do you know who I am?"
Tentative nod.
Good, at least the shock of being left down here for God knows how long and seeing a 'dead' person hasn't addled his mind. "I am not a ghost. I am not a demon. I will, however, kill you if you try to scream, yell, or otherwise draw attention to yourself. Are we clear?" Just to make his point exceedingly clear, Lelouch pressed his coilgun pistol to the man's forehead, looking the man in the eyes in the process.
Bartley quivered…there was no hesitation in that stare.
Another nod, this time fearful.
Lelouch stared at him a moment longer, and, without removing the pistol, he tore the duct tape off the obese man's mouth, leaving Bartley breathing deeply in relief and attempting, really for the first time, to look at the 'dead' prince.
Needless to say, what he saw horrified him beyond belief.
"Zero!" He whispered, his tone hush with loathing, hate, fear, and disgust. There could be no doubt, even though the clothing had been partially destroyed, stained, and caked in blood, that the outfit Lelouch Vi Britannia was wearing belonged to the masked revolutionary. Bartley felt the world spin around him, dizziness making him wish he had enough food in his stomach to vomit. The act would have been cleansing, purging his body of the horrific knowledge that hung oppressively on his mind.
"Yes," Lelouch stated, not bothering denying the fact…and not removing the gun. "What are you doing here, Bartley Asprius? You were recalled to the homeland, if memory serves."
Bartley licked his lips, whetting the torn skin left from his gag's removal. He was silent a moment before he answered, thinking over the matter. He owed the prince before him nothing, but he would live to fulfill his duty, and that would mean cooperating for now. "I-I came back to investigate His Highness, Prince Clovis' murder."
Lelouch raised an eyebrow, but lowered his firearm. As long as Bartley was being cooperative there was no need to be overly forceful, "Investigate? You mean find out Zero's motives and identity?"
Bartley took longer to respond this time, looking at Lelouch, Zero, with undisguised…something in his gaze. There was a primal glint in those orbs, something indescribably more than mere anger or wrath…perhaps it is not so much an emotion focused on me as it is a combination of feelings regarding the broken vow of loyalty to defend Clovis? Bartley always one for loyalty…one reason why he and that Gottwald fellow used to get along so well.
"I-" Bartley began, then stopped. "Your Highness-"
"My name is Zero," The exiled royal spat, "If you absolutely must, then refer to me as Lelouch Lamperouge."
Bartley's breath caught at that name and the reminder of the great tragedy behind it. The emotion, that basic and utter violation of one's self-worth that had been shining in his eyes a moment before, was now reflected in the prince's. "V-very well, Zero. The person who was killed…the person who you killed in the G-1 base in Shinjuku…was not Clovis La Britannia."
Dead silence.
Complete and utter, dead silence.
Lelouch was fairly sure he forgot to breathe for a moment, visibly shaking himself as a deep regret flashed across his mind. Regret…and guilt? Yes, I am undeniably guilty for the murder, but…why do I feel so bad? Why do I feel as though I killed an actual member of my family, rather than the monster that Clovis was? They hated me…hated mother…hated Nunnally for our commoner blood. Lelouch closed his eyes briefly, locking away the dark cloud of emotions fogging his judgment. When he opened his eyes again, they were clear, though no less confused. Steeling himself, the black prince growled lowly, "Explain."
"I was…readying the body for transport and," Bartley paused, shaking his head as if he were expressing doubt towards what he, himself, was about to say. "I was readying the body for transport and it melted."
Lelouch blinked.
"What?"
Bartley closed his eyes, apparently reliving the event in question. "The…no, it wasn't His Highness, your brother's, body. It was…a thing The corpse began to…change. At once, it was human, then it began to look like something else. There were…gills, the eyes were wrong, Oh God in Heaven, why did it look-" Bartley's breathing quickened as he threw his head back in a low moan, his eyes screwed shut tightly and protectively against what he was seeing in the back of his mind. Lelouch's violet eyes were wide with surprise…he could disbelieve a story, an exotic tale, or even bullshit, but…this-
-this was something he'd seen before.
It happened when Nunnally talked about what little she remembered seeing of her mother's murder. It happened when he heard survivors of the invasion of Japan talk about what had happened to them during those dark days. Still, whatever Bartley had experienced…it was more real, more overtly horrible in a way that Lelouch couldn't express, but the man's voice, if nothing else, was a clear testament to the fact that he'd seen something. Something terrible that burned like poison against his sanity, eating away at logic and thought, defying description as if the very thought of the experience had a will of it's own.
"-And the flesh…It wasn't-wasn't human anymore," Bartley explained, clearly lacking the exact vocabulary to express whatever it was. "There were…scales and tentacles…oozing puss and something that couldn't have been there, that wasn't right, that shouldn't exist in a sane world. Even now-"
Bartley opened his eyes finally, a horrible pale sheen of sweat painted on his face as the maniac light of insanity glittered behind his eyes. His voice was a harsh whisper, straining against incredulity and a tainted knowing. "-I see it, Your Highness, that damned thing sliding and moving-"
Lelouch's hand whipped out, striking Bartley's other cheek and stunning the man into silence. There was a stillness after the blow, the two men breathing hard and pushing the disturbing nature away from the foregrounds of their minds. It would not due to dwell on those thoughts right now. "We will discuss the…event later," Lelouch dictated, easing some tension as the discussion moved away from…it. "But…you assert that the body-both shivered slightly-was not my…was not Clovis'? You believe that he was…replaced before I killed what-whoever was in the G-1 base that day?"
It was utter absurdity, of course. To think that someone could insert themselves into a highly guarded royal residence (Lelouch banished the thought of his mother's assassination, he couldn't deal with that, not now) and somehow 'replace' a prince. Putting aside the obvious difficulty of finding a suitable body double, training that person to duplicate the royal's mannerisms, imbuing them with the whole of that person's public and private knowledge…and all the other logistical difficulties involved…what would be the point? Theoretically, an organization placing such a person in a position of power would allow some level of control over Area 11…until the puppet decided to grab power for themselves or they blew their cover. Even the most consummate of professional actors, himself and Kallen included, whose very lives depended on those skills…they would, inevitably, make a mistake.
No, ultimately, trying to 'replace' an official was a pointless conspiracy exercise for the occasional paranoid psychotic. Such a thing would only be possible in a world of marvelous fiction and-
Lelouch froze.
Geass, a small corner of his mind whispered with seditious intent. Would it be possible with Geass…or perhaps some small nightmare from this Pandora's Box I have stumbled into? The dead walk, I can bend the minds of other men to my will…is it really such a fiction? Really such an impossibility? Unwillingly, Bartley's confession drew to the forefront of his thoughts.
"Say that I believe you," Lelouch said quietly. "What was shipped back to the homeland in that coffin? Also, why come back to Japan in secret, why not tell the Emperor…presuming, of course, that are 'investigating' without his approval?"
For a moment, Bartley was almost stunned speechless, then information came flooding out, "One of my men was with me when-when it happened. We had a body removed from the public morgue and placed it to stand in for Prince Clovis'…I realized that if whoever was behind this…plot knew that I had discovered their deception, they might kill Clovis…if they hadn't already. As it was, I hoped to secure the assistance of OSI and, hopefully, catch them off guard. The Emperor, though, he refused to see me, disgraced as I was…there was nowhere I could turn, no one who would aid me…"
"It hurts, doesn't it?"
Bartley's head snapped up, staring at Lelouch before realization slowly dawned.
"To have the most important thing in your life stripped away so suddenly and have all of those false friends bare their teeth at you…as if you were some manner of injured animal ripe for picking off at their leisure. And, horribly, you realized exactly how powerless you are. That is why, Bartley. That is why you see Zero before you today instead of a Prince of Britannia. That man and his nation have wronged both you and I…if you truly believe that the man I killed was not, in fact, your liege, you are welcome under my banner."
Bartley Asprius had always been a man of the Empire.
He had lived his life in service of his Prince, always following the traditional roles prescribed for such a man. Clovis had been his purpose for existing, the man he had wanted to see on the throne more than any other, but now…
He had wished for vengeance.
He had prayed and begged for someone to hear him, to aid him in his quest to find and punish whoever had taken his prince…and someone (he was not sure if that someone resided in Heaven or Hell, yet), someone had heard him. The Black Prince, that cautionary tale against defying Charles Zi Britannia had been made real before him, showing him the path he would need to take if he wished to follow his prince, that bloody path of vengeance.
And…if Zero was here, in this most secret of Clovis' installations, something must have occurred to the normal personnel. Nearly twenty hours ago, he'd been shut in the wind tunnel accidentally and sent men to go secure something to cut him out. Judging by the state of the door, though, Zero had merely ordered it shot open. Evidently in that time, something had happened...leaving Zero and his band of terrorists in charge of the full resources of the facility, which had been his only hope for rescuing Clovis, or finding his body, and paying back whoever it was in kind for their injury to his lord. He had no hope, he had no men, he had no resources, save for the ones Zero now possessed.
Were the situation not so bleak, he would have laughed.
In the end, though, there was only one thing to say.
Kallen and Tamaki had expected to return to their leader having possibly battled hundreds of ravenous man-eating zombies, lickers, and maybe even emerged as the unlikely saviors of a band of terrified survivors. It was equally likely that Zero had dropped his guard and their captive would prove to be an escape artist of such skill that it was completely overlooked by his large gut….in which case, they would have to endeavor to save their leader from a gruesome fate and military imprisonment. Really, one couldn't possibly blame them for expecting these outcomes…given the way the night had already gone to Hell and back. Still, that didn't stop them from staring at the sight which greeted them upon their return…
Zero and Bartley, now unbound, were sitting at one of the workstations completely involved in whatever they were looking over. "And…if you look here, this will be the secure access passageway…it was intended for a lockdown emergency like this, but given what I think caused this disaster…"
"What is it anyway? I had theorized some kind of biological contaminant or nerve gas, but…" Lelouch trailed off, his eyes sharply analyzing whatever it was on the screen.
"Well…" Bartley began hesistantly.
"-Okay, what the F_ck is going on?" Kallen cried, her nerves strained from jumping at every shadow in the entire room, expecting something less-than-alive to leap from each darkened crevice
Lelouch looked up, eyebrows rising at his comrades expressions of incredulity. "Oh, Q-1, Tamaki…this is Bartley Asprius, he'll be acting as our 'tour guide' until further notice. Pending a group decision by the Black Knights, he's submitted an application for membership."
As Zero, this would have been much easier to swallow, but…
As Lelouch, it was brass balls act of mind-fuckery that left Kallen speechless.
"Wh-What?" Kallen asked, focusing on the name of the obese man they'd 'saved.' Bartley Asprius, as she could recall, had been one of Clovis' key supporters and a key military tactician present at the Shinjuku Ghetto massacre. "Bu-But he's a Britannian General! When…Wha-How? We were gone for half an hour! How did you sweet talk a Britannian general in half-an-hour!"
Lelouch cocked an infuriating superior smirk, "I'm Zero, Q-1. I thought you ought to know by now…Zero is a man of miracles."
An aggravated noise arose in the back of Kallen's throat, such that would have raised the hackles on hundred of wild animals. After a moment of straining credulity and crippling exasperation, she looked at him levelly. "Putting aside the fact that he's a Britannian general…how do we know he's not going to stab us in the back at the first opportunity?"
Lelouch hummed in thought, looking at another diagram as he answered. "Well…in the immediate future, his cooperation is vital to our mutual survival. Beyond the immediate…we've set up negotiations for his services, but it will require ratifying by all of the senior Black Knights, including you."
"Wait…I don't get it," Tamaki interjected, content to observe until now, "Is Zero saying he's so awesome that this Brit. General decided to throw in with us?"
Bartley snorted, somewhat amused by the simplification of the discussion and greatly desirous of making a good impression on his new 'coworkers' as distasteful as the idea might be, "Ultimately, yes…I believe that sums up the subject plainly, Tamaki-san, was it?"
"Ah," Tamaki paused, giving the man a once-over with narrow eyes. "Yeah…that's me, but…I don't get it. What do you get out of it? Aren't you some big muckity muck in the military?
Bartley wilted somewhat at the accusation, but nodded. "Well, yes and no. Until recently I was a man of some means in Area-ah, I mean, Japan, but with the disappearance of Prince Clovis-"
"-You mean death, right?" Kallen asked, raising an eyebrow curiously.
"Perhaps," Lelouch said, standing from his seat, "And perhaps not. Former Gen. Asprius seems to believe that Prince Clovis was abducted and 'replaced' some time before the events in Shinjuku…meaning that it is possible I killed an imposter. I was hesitant to believe him at first, but our 'friend' does pose some interesting questions. For instance, Clovis was generally a man kind to the Japanese. He was the one who initiated the Honorary Britannian system, in fact. Then there were also the tax reforms, the building projects, and the miscellaneous programs to fund companies who opened up jobs for the Post-War Japanese. I had always wondered what could have caused a man who was usually so dedicated to non-violence, or at least ambivalent towards it, to enact the slaughter of thousands…"
Tamaki and Kallen blinked.
"In hindsight, it does seem rather strange, doesn't it?" Lelouch rhetorically asked. Even if you take into account CC's existence and his desire for secrecy…Clovis overreacted badly in Shinjuku. Even when he was a child, he disliked overreaching gambits…honestly, I can see him cultivating this facility more than the ruthless slaughter of that ghetto. Then there's the matter of my judgment; am I too close to the situation to accurately observe and judge my 'family?' Did I punish Clovis because of the things he did…or because I wanted to see him as someone who needed to be punished? Better, though, is deciding if these factors affect the outcome in such a way as to negatively effect my goals?
"So…if Clovis isn't dead…does that mean he's a zombie?" Tamaki asked slowly.
Kallen, Lelouch, and Bartley all stared at him.
No, not just stared, they stared.
"And…how does the fact that Clovis is or is not alive…affect the Black Knights?" Kallen asked, pointedly ignoring Tamaki's question. For all concern, it was the best thing she could have done.
"In the short term, it doesn't…beyond removing Bartley's moral dilemma of cooperation with the person who killed his prince," Lelouch stated briskly as he began to pace. The adrenaline in his system refused to cut off, his stubborn subconscious most likely reminding his endocrine system that this place wasn't safe…as a result, he desperately needed to move, to burn off nervous energy. "In the longer-term, however…"
Kallen nodded, looking pointedly at Lelouch.
"If we choose to accept Bartley's help beyond the point where our lives are constantly in danger…it comes down to the idea that some manner of organization must have assisted in the removal and falsification of their Duplicate-Clovis. No single person could possibly accomplish this (even if they had Geass, his mind whispered), therefore it becomes a question of…why? Why go to all the trouble to get rid of, or at least neutralize a member of the Imperial Family-no mean feet in and of itself…"
Tamaki blinked, then nodded, "Oi, Zero! I got it! I mean, you said that this was…like, somewhere for weapons research, right? What if they wanted this place?"
Kallen and Lelouch stared at Tamaki once again, though for a different reason.
"That was remarkably insightful, Tamaki," Lelouch complimented, honestly surprised at the leap in logic. "And probably correct. Bartley and I have been talking and, if the security measures at this facility are to be believed, the chances of one of their hazardous biological or nerve weapons accidentally leaking is almost nil, correct?"
The obese man nodded, "Ah, yes…I have to believe that this was sabotage. Even if there had been an accident of this magnitude, the entire facility should have been put into lockdown by the central computer. Zero, you told me that the elevators had been…disabled, correct?"
Lelouch nodded slightly.
"Then the security protocols did go into effect, but someone apparently let themselves out of the facility…the warehouse entrance should not have been so easily accessible, nor should any contaminated people have been able to escape. Someone must have been able to penetrate security, sabotage one of the labs, and then secured a hazmat suit for himself…he would then merely have to disable the computer and he would have been free to leave in before the…the virus kicked in."
The black prince noted the mention of whatever 'virus' had caused this atrocity, but passed on it for now. There was a more important point to be made. "More to the point…what are the odds of a research lab such as this being attacked in a covert manner, by a third party, but only after the furor over Clovis' assassination had died down. This has all the hallmarks of professional espionage, something not even the most well-connected of Japan's Freedom Fighters posses. No, this is something else…"
"But…we're only taking this Britannian's word for all this!" Kallen pointed out. "He could be lying, leading us into a trap!"
Lelouch pressed a hand to his forehead tiredly. "Q-1…ultimately, I have to concede the possibility that this all is some manner of over-elaborate ruse to trap us. If Britannia truly went through the difficulty of planning this entire charade for the sole purpose of capturing a band of vigilantes and a masked regicide, then…I honestly feel they deserve to win."
Kallen and Tamaki blinked.
"Think about the setup," Lelouch urged, "We have a multi-trillion dollar complex filled with nightmarish horrors created out of their own countrymen to deliberately trap and kill us by sending in one, lone, unarmed man to feed us a conspiracy story that sounds like its been pulled from the pages of a gossip rag! What point could there possibly be to go through this level of deception to capture eight people…no matter their notoriety? Q-1, Kallen, if they really did this to themselves…I think I'd prefer they just kill me now and be done with it. How many of these scientists had families, do you think? Children, Mothers, Brothers, Fathers, Sisters…beyond that, there is their own intellectual value to the Empire, which can't be inconsequential! A reasonable amount of paranoia is healthy, especially given who we are, but this…"
"Kallen," Lelouch pleaded, "What you're suggesting, that this is a setup...at this point, it's madness."
There was a speechless silence as Kallen and Tamaki absorbed Lelouch's argument. Both of their mouths opened and closed, as if half-formed counter-arguments were waiting to leap forth, but none came to mind. Once again, Lelouch had demonstrated the truth of his identity as Zero…he might be paranoid, but he was also a genius of the highest caliber.
"Then there's someone out there…kidnapping princes and raiding secret research facilities like this is all some bad anime plot…and we have to be the knights in shining armor?" Kallen guessed.
"That is Bartley's condition for continued assistance," Lelouch agreed. "If we manage to hunt down the people responsible for this and they turn out to be the ones holding Clovis, and he's alive, we would be obligated to try and rescue him."
"F_ck!" Tamaki spat, not at all happy with the idea.
"Not my choice of words," Lelouch muttered, "But I largely agree with the sentiment. Really, though, we have little choice in the matter-"
Tamaki and Kallen looked at their leader askance.
"-as distasteful as it may be, Clovis La Britannia may be being held captive against his will by an organization dedicated to some unknown purpose, probably malicious…and the Black Knights are Allies of Justice. I suppose the choice comes down to whether or not we are comfortable disregarding a cry for aid due to the race and background of the person calling for help. Such is hypocrisy, of course...and that is a slippery slope to go down. It would only be a little further until we can rationalize killing an innocent or two...then a few dozen; what would be the sacrifice of a few Britannian lives for the freedom of Japan, after all? Then we take a few hundred...then a few thousand...and before you know it, we will have graveyards full of Britannian corpses, dead at our hands...the size of the Shinjuku Ghetto a dozen times over." Lelouch's final statement drove a nail into the ideological core of Kallen and Tamaki's egos. Admitting it aloud or not, they liked being the 'good guys,' having the moral high ground.
Check.
Lelouch grinned internally as he glimpsed hesitation in their eyes, "Then again...perhaps we are better than that. Perhaps we can be that select few who say...just this once, and never again. Well...at least, until the next time." The black prince turned from them, playing every inch the disappointed leader. Besides, he didn't need to look at them to know their decision. The hard sell was always the best sell and, ultimately, it didn't matter if Clovis was alive and innocent or guilty and dead (or any combination thereof). Whether Bartley was delusional or not, they needed his help to get out of this massive complex of horrors and nightmares and, to do that, the Knights needed to support him in helping Bartley. Later, after he had served his usefulness, he could be taken care of...
Lelouch carefully cleared his face of every emotion save for a slight curiosity. To his credit, he didn't grin when he saw their faces.
And Mate.
Damn he was good.
And...now that they've had the stick wagged at them a few times, I think a carrot is in order.
"On the upside, though," Lelouch began, "We may proceed to confiscate the experimental weaponry. I believe there is something that should prove extremely useful in our current situation…"
He sat the case down and waited to be acknowledged.
After an interminable amount of time, which he spent covertly observing his surroundings, a single word was spoken aloud in the empty space. His feet silently padded over the lush carpeting and up to the massive oaken doors, pushing them open and stepping into the inner sanctum of his employer. The room was cast in the deep shadows of the third hour past midnight and echoed with the dim sounds of a city which did not sleep overly much in this day and age. Distant honks, the revving of engines, and the sirens of emergency vehicles ebbed and flowed with the comings and goings of unknown people on unknown missions.
The actual room in question, though, was covered in books of ancient and mysterious origins, bearing titles in languages both readily apparent and completely mystifying. Some showed immense age, others were the stark white of newly-printed material, spanning what could only be the full interim of human knowledge. Against one wall, indeed, rested several clay tablets inscribed with strange markings laying inside glass cases. Other pedestals, strewn throughout the room, possessed figurines or fetishes seemingly pulled from the depths of Hell by demonic hands, bearing shapes and languages hopelessly foreign to the modern mind of man.
Finally, on the opposite side of the sparsely decorated room, an old man sat behind a desk, drinking from a solitary wine glass. It was, undoubtedly him, that had bade the visitor, "Enter." The elder man was possessed of a power, a darkness, which ebbed and flowed around him, making him seem one moment a man, another moment…something more. His countenance was, at once benevolent and horrible to behold…
He looked upon the man before him and the man flinched, looking away…
As if it was the ravening abyss stretched out before him.
The man approached the desk, took a knee, and placed the metal case upon it, allowing the rectangular container to snap open quietly. In the dim light of the room, the in-lit box glowed softly, giving the whole exchange a supernaturally sinister air. Quite calmly, the older man reached into the case and removed a single metal-capped glass tube, containing within it a bright blue liquid in a double-helix-like set of tubules. A slow smirk crossed the old man's face as he studied the innocent-looking blue liquid, before he nodded once and replaced it within the metal carrying case.
"It's done then?"
"Yes, My Priest…I would have arrived yesterday, but you foreswore me to take extra caution with the delivery, I am sorry for the delay." The visitor stated worshipfully.
"Good…and the facility?"
"We needn't worry about it, My Priest, no one of significant influence was informed of it. I have…taken care of those who did have word of it," The visitor said with great solemn ceremony, making a horrible and obscene sign across his body as he did so.
"Excellent. What of the contaminated within?"
"The door to mankind's Pandora's Box has been left open. Rest assured, My Priest, they will die by the hands of their own creations, which will leak out into the world of men," The zealot offered smilingly.
"What of Clovis?" The Priest asked offhandedly.
"He still lives, My Priest. As you commanded, the research into the ruling line continues. As the precognitives have stated, some unknown quality protects them from our influence, but we are as yet unsure of what exactly it is. The experimentation has not determined the root cause of this ability…should we continue, My Priest?" The cultist asked subserviently.
"Indeed," The Priest nodded, "We must ascertain the truth behind this 'Power of the Kings' which holds back the para-psychics before we truly begin to move against the Empire. Have him moved to the lower levels of Facility C, assign Senior Staff Doctor Lawrence to him. Tell him that the subject is not to be killed…we have no idea when we may be able to come across another of Charles' brood."
"My Priest," The zealot offered hesitantly, "There is always…"
"Absolutely Not!" The Priest spat, dust shaking from the walls as his anger took on a physical force. "It is the Word Of The Messenger God that they are not to be touched, both…as well as Witch's younger sister, are integral to future events!"
"My apologies, My Priest," The man said, bowing deeply. "I overstepped myself. The plans of Gods are not mine to argue with."
"You are a credit to the Death's Shadows, and to Our God, Lord Hastur. When his awakening comes, your rewards will be great indeed," The Priest promised. "Do you have any word from the rest of our brethren?"
"No, My Priest," The cultist answered respectfully. "They maintain the sacraments and await your words from the mouth of Great Hastur. Do you wish me to speak unto them in your place?"
The Priest was silent for a long moment, his eyes gazing outward, beyond the mere physical walls of the room. "The time of Hastur approaches…I will be making visitations to the Houses of Our Lord within the week to spread his blessings. They should have sacrifices ready for the proper rights. When I leave, each House should begin to plan to spread the blessings of Our Lord as well."
"It will be so, My Priest."
"I have received word from Rapine Storm, also," The Priest stated. "Their work goes well on the mainland as the impotent government withers in the face of Our True God and His Work. Our mission becomes all the more vital as they succeed. When the non-believers are finally usurped, Lord Hastur will need the Philosopher's Stones that have been found here for his magics and rights."
"I will announce it to the holy, My Priest."
"Very soon," The Priest hummed, "The Time of Hastur will come and mankind will need to be cleansed or converted when that time comes. The worthy shall be made into the servants of the coming Gods, changed to be fit to serve them and the truths they will impart. It is vitally important that our order be ready and awaiting the conversion."
"As you say, My Priest," The zealot nodded, his maniac grin hidden by his downturned face.
"Very good," The Priest stated, the dismissal clear in his voice.
As the man left, shutting the door behind him, The Priest reached for the T-Virus once again, carefully examining a vial of the potent bio-weapon. "Charles Ashford, you fool. After stooping to make weapons for that moron Clovis…it won't even be any of those that serve as your legacy…it will be your greatest 'medical achievement' that etches your name in history."
He chuckled lowly, then, "All your life, you worship at the idols of 'human kindness' and 'compassion,' and, at the very end, you pave the way for the return of Great Hastur, he who will pave the way for the return of Great Cthulhu and his city of R'lyeh. We, the faithful few, shall see this world returned to it's proper order. Man was never meant to govern man…only blood and pain has resulted from this fallacy…the Sleeping Gods, The Old Ones, will be our rulers, bestowing upon the faithful their knowledge of the Truth!"
"The Empire that forsook me, the World that took Everything from me…they will be washed away in the tide of the New World of the Dead God Hastur and the Great Old Ones!" The Priest's chuckles grew in full-blown laughter, flickers of the single lamplight punctuating the fluctuations of his voice.
"I don't believe this," Tamaki said, shifting uncomfortably.
"Lelouch, if I found out that these things aren't absolutely necessary," Kallen growled.
Lelouch sighed as Bartley opened the freestanding vault, feeling vaguely uncomfortable himself as he turned. Granted, he could see why Kallen would feel odd, given their current clothing…and the fact that they had had to change in a massive room without the convenience of complete privacy or safety. He'd almost changed his mind concerning the 'weapons' when Bartley had outlined their full use and operation. Still, at least the temperature wasn't making their situation any more uncomfortable than necessary.
Tamaki plucked at the skintight green layer of rubber-like material, "Uhh…we're not gonna' have to walk around in these…right? I mean, it's not like the zombies are afraid of freaky dive-suits, right?"
"Tamaki-san," Bartley chastised lightly, "Please don't insult our technology so lightly. These 'skin-suits' are advanced meta-polymers which conduct electrical impulses, biological thermal reactions, and muscular-skeletal movements. The material feeds the information into the 'hard-suits,' the exoskeleton-like result of Charles Ashford's research."
"And for those who don't speak geek?" Tamaki growled irritably.
"The skin-suits, what you're wearing now, read your body language and translate it into computer-readable information, which gets transferred to something like an advanced Knightmare Frame. Think of it as a pilot suit," Lelouch explained. "What I don't understand is the reason Charles Ashford allowed weapons research to go on in his facilities. He and Rueben disagreed over that subject for years."
"Prince Clovis forced the topic. Some of the viral and medicinal research Charles was undertaking in the last few years would have proven extremely dangerous in the hands of the current Emperor…biological warfare being one of the most obvious and probable results. He came to Prince Clovis and, eventually, they agreed that His Highness would shield this facility from the Emperor's notice. It was a well-calculated move on Prince Clovis' part…certain research down here does have military applications without the prospect of plague-drive genocides and would be beneficial to his attempt on the throne." Bartley's explanation was cut short as a pressurized hissing signaled the opening of the freestanding storage safe. As the narrow side of the rectangular-prism slid out, a rack with four mannequin-like dolls of varying colors. The assembled Black Knights looked on with ill-concealed interest.
Seeing their stares, Bartley smiled proudly. "Originally, these were designed for hostile environments…volcanoes, deep water exploration, and extreme cold environments. When Prince Clovis became the patron for this branch of the Umbrella Corporation, it was decided that this would be one of the projects earmarked for military evaluation. The hope was that these would do for the Infantry what the Knightmare Frame has done armored artillery. Ultimately, we were going to use it as the test bed for a whole set of new weaponry…which are all still in final testing in another lab. The suits were moved up here for storage until a determination could be made as to the financial feasibility of their implementation."
"Do they work?" Kallen asked pointedly, eyeing the red 'Hardsuit' eagerly. Britannian or not, the sleek metal-encased form looked like a very interesting toy.
Bartley looked offended at the mere suggestion that one of the creations he had oversight on wouldn't 'work.' "Of course they work! Strength is boosted by a factor of one hundred, speed and jumping height are likewise increased. The in-built boosters allow for gliding such that it nears true flight! The modular and exchangeable weapon and communication suites we've constructed make the Hardsuits some of the most versatile weapons possible to field on modern, close-quarters battlefields!"
Kallen reeled, back-peddling at Bartley's ferocious defense of the suits containing nearly the force of a physical blow. "Okay! Alright already, sorry I asked…"
"Bartley," Lelouch interjected, eyeing one of the suits critically. "Is there any…reason this one looks like…"
The former General blinked, his mind switching tracks as he inspected the suit Lelouch was looking at. The outer portions of the exoskeleton were coated in a non-reflective matte-black paint with thin gold lines following the limbs and marking the joints of the suit. The 'faceplate' or visor, regardless of how it had been intended, was done in the same non-reflective matte-black and a deep, deep violet, though instead of a 'crown' motif, the headpiece ended in a simple rounded design…the overall effect making the Hardsuit appear much like…
"Whoa," Tamaki breathed, amazed. "It's…Zero."
Kallen stared, unnerved at the fact that, yes, the Hardsuit did bear a striking resemblance to Lelouch's Zero costume…only lacking the cape to complete the effect. "That's…weird," The redhead commented oddly.
"Ah…," Bartley hummed, rubbing the sweat from his brow. "You see…these Hardsuits were in preproduction long before 'Zero' appeared and, when one of the engineers noticed the similarity between the stealth model and your…uniform, he deliberately moved to make the two more similar in appearance. Since the stealth model was designated 'Unit 00' in the project nomenclature…"
"Someone decided to be a smartass," Lelouch summed up.
"Quite," Bartley agreed, having thought the joke to be in bad taste even before this debacle. "The red suit is the close combat model, designated Unit 01 and the green suit is the heavy fire support model, designated Unit 02. Of course, none of the specialized modular weapons packages are equipped so they're down to the basic strength/speed enhancements right now. Once you have them on, feel free to use the visual interface codex to change your display preferences…as I recall, you should be able to access the thermal reading software, the night vision augmentation, the ultraviolet shifter, and the electro-scope."
"Electro-scope?" Kallen asked, almost giddy with the number of gadgets available.
Bartley nodded. "It's basically a device which maps electrical currents in your surroundings. It actually had military purposes, unlike the radiation scopes Charles wanted to put in."
"Radiation?" Tamaki asked uneasily, eyeing the suits with a sudden distrust.
"Not from the suits," Bartley explained patiently, utilizing his long-suffering experience with grunt-types to not bite the man's head off. Honestly, was a little intelligence too much to ask for? "Remember that these were designed for hostile environments and, possibly, space travel. However, here on Earth, levels of cosmic radiation are usually such that a device of that nature would be superfluous."
Lelouch nodded, tiring of the technical discussion. Sighing, he summoned up what energy he could from his tiring body, "I suppose we'll have to take the gag a bit further. Q-1, Tamaki, suit up. We're going to be moving out. According to the specs Bartley has displayed, we'll have between three and four hours of power on the current batteries. As far as we know, Ohgi and the others are in a solid position where they can hold their ground. Our objective is to move through the remainder of the facility as quickly as possible and reach the main server, initiating a reboot for the security systems. Once the systems are online, Bartley will be able to grant us safe passage back out of here."
The two Black Knights and possible recruit nodded as they slid into the hardened exosuits, the metal and polymer mixtures flexing and reshaping themselves to fit snugly over their Skinsuits and their bodies. A jolt of electricity sizzled across their skin as the pressurized suits sealed themselves against temperature, particulate material, and contagions. Lelouch couldn't suppress the grin that sliced across his face as the heads up display came online…
Battery Readout…
Structural Integrity Meter…
Targeting Input with Iris Tracker…
Jump Booster Temperature Controls…
"Man!" Tamaki cried, his excitement evident in his voice, "These things are awesome! Hey Kallen, Zero…betcha' I can jump thirty feet in this!"
His eyes widened as he stepped out of the Hardsuit dock, shock lancing through his system as he whirled. "Tamaki, whatever you do, don't-"
The flare of the boosters told him it was already too late, though, and he winced as Tamaki hit the ceiling…and subsequently, the floor. Kallen sighed, the sound coming out mechanical and forced over the inbuilt speakers. "I'll go see if he's dead yet."
Lelouch wished he could massage his temples, but the Hardsuit's protective layer made such an indulgence impossible.
"So…Zero's a Britannian?" Inoue asked quietly.
"At this point, I'm pretty sure we're the idiots for following him into this mess," Minami spat. "Granted…in hindsight, following a masked man anywhere seems pretty stupid."
"He did get us out of that conference room," Ohgi objected quietly.
Sugiyama snorted, "The Britannian expression's: let's not make a saint out of the sinner, right?"
An uncomfortable silence descended on the group, their inner turmoil. None of them knew exactly what to make of the revelation their 'leader' had granted them. Before this, most would have traded a considerable amount for even the slightest bit of information on their enigmatic leader. Realistically, they knew there was a reason he wore the mask…though speculation on the subject ranged from the worrisome to the absurd. Theories about Zero's face had not only been one of the Black Knights' favorite pastimes, but also one of the net's pet obessions…they sometimes had fun looking up rumors concerning Zero on various cult websites devoted to the terrorist/vigilante/justice-seeker.
He was the heir to the last Emperor of Japan…
There were hideous scars on his face, given to him by no less than Charles Zi Britannia, himself!
…he's a Demon, some kind of hell-spawn, the ghost of a damned soul set to walk the Earth until his vengeance was wrought.
Zero is a blue-blood radical, hiding behind a mask to fight his own countrymen after loosing his mind to some horrible tragedy.
No human could do the things he does…he's a cyborg, half-robot, a military experiment gone awry!
…Some were closer than others.
Although, it had been a niggling fact that none of the Knights had ever actually seen Zero eat before, so they couldn't completely debunk the 'robot' rumor. In any event, though, none of them had decided on any specific course of action beyond survival at this point. It was anyone's call as to whether or not they would follow any order issued by Zero…even if he held the 'exit' door open for them.
"I guess we need to decide," Yoshida sighed, running a hand through his hair, "Is Zero going to stay as the leader of the Black Knights…or what?"
What hung in the air for a moment, heavy on each of their minds.
If they decided that Zero wasn't a fit leader…what would they do? Obviously Ohgi would be the prime candidate for new/old leadership, but what would they do with Zero himself? Would they turn him over to the Britannian Military? There was a huge bounty being offered for him…or would they just kill him?
"Okay," Sugiyama stated, startling everyone with his abruptness, "Everyone's thinking it, but it looks like I'm the one who's going to have to say it…should we kill Zero?"
Four other voices rang out instantly with objects, outright refusals, or arguments advocating the death of their leader. Granted, Minami's voice was the most radical among them, but Sugiyama was a close second. Finally, Ohgi slammed his hand against the wall loud enough to bring silence to the group. His face was cold and hard as he looked at his comrades. There was absolute quiet in the small ventilation crossroads, only the echo of Ohgi's hand's impact breaking the tableau. "The absolute least we can do is discuss this like reasonable people, agreed?" More silence, but a general sense of agreement. "Right…and just to clarify, you want to kill Zero? You want to kill a person who's had our backs, who's helped us hunt down people who are stealing food and medicine from our neighbors? You want to kill someone who's actually made us an organized fighting force instead of some…some rag-tag band of terrorists just waiting to be hunted down like dogs-"
Minami opened his mouth to object, but didn't get a word out.
"-No. Whatever you're going to say, that's what we were. When we started out five years ago, there were thirty of us. If you don't count Zero or Kallen, only the original members…there are six of us left. You can't act like Naota and Nagata were the only ones who were killed. What about Shin? Dachi? Aoi? Everyone here owes their lives to Zero at least once…back in Shinjuku."
Absolute and utter silence as Ohgi's point sunk in.
"We all lost friends in Shinjuku. We all lost loved ones…and Zero was the one who stopped the slaughter. Zero was the one, the only one who has ever brought us even with the Britannian Military."
"But he's still Britannian," Sugiyama said quietly.
Surprisingly, it wasn't Ohgi that responded. It was Inoue, "That doesn't mean he's anything less than human…or that he's actually lied to us. We've never asked for anything beyond the mask…we all knew he might not be Japanese, but we still followed him. After everything we've been through…don't we at least owe him a chance to explain himself?"
Yoshida nodded. "I'm with Inoue. I'm not ready to throw everything in with Zero right now…especially after this mess, but I'm not ready to do something I might regret either. Whether or not Zero's Britannian…it doesn't change the fact that he's done the Japanese people more good than harm."
"It certainly doesn't hurt that he bloodied the Brits' noses," Minami muttered derisively, almost unwilling to compliment the masked man.
Sugiyama scowled, "So we're seriously considering this? Letting a Britannian lead us?"
"He's done a better job than me so far," Ohgi replied. "I do want to know why though. I want to know if he actually has a reason for all of this, whether he's doing it just for kicks, or it he's just using us for a grudge against Britannia."
"I'd like to hear an explanation too," Yoshida snorted, "Of course…that means we'll probably have to corner him. He's certainly a sneaky hiretsukan, right?"
"Slipperier than an eel," Minami nodded, the bespectacled man returning to a reluctantly amiable mood. "I almost think getting a few answer, face-to-face, from him might be better than the…uh, alternative."
Sugiyama rolled his eyes and reached behind him, into his backpack. Withdrawing a flask, he uncapped it, "If we're going to keep talking about this…I need a drink."
"Seconded," Yoshida nodded.
As the flask was passed around, a warmer and lighter air surrounding the group. It would, in years to come, be one of the often-remembered stories of the early Black Knights, whispered about by new recruits and dismissed as more myth than truth. After all, it was hard to imagine the leadership of what would become one of the most powerful international military groups taking refuge in a four-way ventilation duct intersection, hiding from zombies, and drinking Britannian whiskey from a flask. Of course, what was said next would become the most controversial part of the story.
"What are we going to ask him, first, I mean?" Inoue asked tentatively.
"I want to know what he was snorting when he rescued that Kururugi guy," Sugiyama said, alcohol and the company of his friends and comrades softening his displeasure at the revelation, "I mean…I'm not the only one who thought he was on crack, right? No one has balls that big!"
It would be quite a few minutes before the laughter subsided and the discussion got back on topic.
Ahh...all done with this chapter.
And, there's all kinds of fun to be had in this chapter. Nemo's a crazy little #$#, Zero's playing the knife's edge between Prince and Vigilante Leader, playing Chess-master Manipulator with his subordinates and allies, and...OH, yeah! The shadowy, mysterious bad guys have been introduced. For those of you familiar with the Cthulhu mythos, you may recognize the Cults. For those of you who aren't...that's what the internet is for.
Oh, and a minor note as to the T-virus. Before anyone gets really upset with me for the Lickers...
Cannon Res. Evil has the 'Licker' creature able to puncture light personal armor and human torsos with it's tongue. In my fanverse, due partially to personal oversight, I'm going to say there are two (2) 'evolutions' of Lickers. The first, which you're seeing now, and which grappled with Lelouch, isn't capable of those feats...or Lelouch would be dead now. The second evolution is a fully adult Licker, which will wreck your shit in unimaginable ways. These will be the ones from Cannon.
Well, this is the part of the story where I review-beg, but...
I'd REALLY like to know my readers' opinions of this story. I've basically shot the plot to hell and back in the FIRST CHAPTER, so responses as to whether or not I'm Farking everything up are important to me. Beyond that, I want to know if anyone actually likes this type of story since I haven't really seen anything like it before on the web...at least, not with Code Geass.
Drop a line and review, plz and thx.
-Slayer Out.