Before the last few days, Acting Governor-Militant Vance Aleister had always looked forward to the morning. It had been his favorite time of day. Getting up early, going through his ritual – it was an exercise in discipline. Maintaining health and hygiene was always important for a citizen of one of the civilized nations, doubly so for a member of the nobility. It was vital to maintain an appearance of dignity and elegance, to show the Numbers that the Britannian way was simply superior.
As of late, though, Aleister's morning routine had been interrupted more often than not. That very day, he had been woken up nearly two hours earlier than he was accustomed, and would have tanned the adjutant's hide had it not truly been a matter of the utmost importance.
Unfortunately for Aleister and fortunately for the adjutant, it was just that. There had been some kind of attack at the 34th Data Center on Wilson Avenue last night. Worse yet, they had only just discovered it in the witching hour of that morning, when the night watchmen were found dead by the morning shift. Thanks to the relative ubiquity of the Data Centers around the settlement, small facilities like this one had comparatively lax security. It didn't make sense to waste resources on redundant systems when you were already stretched thin protecting more important targets- Such as Aleister's personal residence, which had more than quadrupled it's guard personnel over the last couple of days.
"There were a total of five watchmen on duty last night." The investigator said. Aleister and his entourage were standing just inside the police line, as the man in charge of the inquiry came out to meet them. Colonel Remington and his cronies were there, too, as were a number of other ranking officers of the settlement. "Three of them were found dead in the morning, apparently shot. The autopsies are underway as we speak, so I'll forward you the full reports as soon as they become available. Two were left unharmed and remained at their posts until they were relieved by the next shift. It was only when one of day watchmen discovered the supervisor manning the security room dead that they called us in."
The 'us' in question being the Knightpolice, an elite, paramilitary division within the Imperial Police Force. They were considered a cut above the general constabulary, given their background as Knights and access to KMF equipment, and so were often handed the more important assignments. This particular investigator was one Sir Howard Wordsworth. From what Aleister understood, he had a reputation for solving cases quickly and with minimal bloodshed, an unusual trait for the Imperial Police in general and the Knightpolice especially. He was an older chap, with a face that showed a few wrinkles and a head Aleister suspected was balding beneath his peaked uniform cap. But he was quick witted and succinct in his manners, so Aleister decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.
"That can't be all there is to it." Aleister noted, looking at the building with a troubled gaze. It was wholly intact, without any kind of bomb or bullet damage visible from the exterior. It was almost eerie, how you wouldn't even realize that there had been an attack were it not for the footmen and policemen cordoning off the area with yellow tape. There were also about two dozen Glasgows skulking about the perimeter, keeping their eyes peeled for any sign of those helicopter machines Zero had used to attack the museum opening. Both the regular Holy Imperial Army and the Knightpolice had contributed to the investigation in a joint operation, with about ¾ of the Knightmares being Police units and the remaining quarter of them being mil-spec Glasgows.
"I'm afraid not, my lord."Wordsworth shook his head. "There are signs of intrusion in the ventilation system from the exterior. They're too small for a person to fit through, though, and the CCTV recordings show some kind of...ah, automated units assaulting the watchmen."
"Speak plainly, I've no time for games." Commanded Aleister. If these were some kind of new weapon Zero was using, he wanted to know about. That damned terrorist was causing him more trouble over the last week than Elevens had in the last two years. His lack of even a shred of honor regarding his treatment of the Viceroy infuriated Aleister to no end, especially given how he had fallen right into Zero's trap.
Thanks to his authorization of the Emergency Broadcast Override Channel, Aleister was under a lot of pressure to find Zero quickly. No one besides those that had been in the room with him at the time were aware that he had been the one to authorize the airing of the Prince's untimely demise to the whole Empire, and he aimed to keep it that way. Remington and the others had a vested interest in making sure that Aleister stayed in the clear, as did Hartley. The only loose end was the actual technician working the station, who Remington had informed him would be 'taken care of' within the week.
"Well, my lord, as best we can tell, it would seem that the terrorist known as Zero deployed a number of small but dangerous robots to sabotage the facility." Sir Wordsworth answered matter-of-factly.
"And we're sure that it was Zero behind this? Not some Eleven?" Aleister questioned. In truth, he didn't know which was worse. On one hand, Zero seemed to leave a trail of problems in his wake for Aleister to solve wherever he went. On the other one, the idea that the Elevens were re-growing their backbones after almost three years of peaceful subordination was equally troubling, if not more so.
"It is almost a certainty, my lord. The, ah...Robots, you see, they were crafted in the shape of Zero's face." To demonstrate his point, Sir Wordsworth called over a Detective Constable with a tablet computer, before bringing up an image on the screen from the evidence photos. It was a still image of football-sized mechanical spider, whose entire body was composed of what was essentially an enlargened version of Zero's mask, except with eight horrible little legs jutting out from where the neck would connect to the bottom of the helmet.
"God almighty." Said Remington unhelpfully, as he came to join Aleister and his train of staff officers. He stared at the tablet the Constable was holding up with a looking of morbid fascination.
"The mirrored faceplate retracts, and there's some kind of weapon hidden inside." Supplied Sir Wordsworth.
"What the devil are we dealing with? Who in their right mind would think up such a thing?"
"Someone who enjoys the sight of their own face a bit too much, I would wager." Quipped Parker, one of the commanders gathered around the spectacle.
"Yes, an egomaniac Indeed. Although that much should've been obvious considering..." Rickard, another commander, trailed off. Most likely he thought better of finishing that sentence.
"This is no time for jokes!" Aleister reprimanded tersely. After making sure everyone had refocused themselves on the task at hand, he continued. "So these...things, they slip in through the vents in the dead of night. Like a bunch of bloody prowlers. They kill a few guards...And then what?" He sincerely hoped that the answer did not ruin the rest of his week, although he knew it was probably in vain.
"That is the part we find the most disconcerting, my lord." Sir Wordsworth didn't look particularly concerned, although Aleister supposed he didn't really know the man. Perhaps he was simply trying to retain the dignity of his station.
"What do you mean? What was Zero up to in there?" Aleister asked, gesturing to the cordoned off Data Center. Armed Footmen were stationed all around it, and several were on the roof and fire escape as well. A team of technicians with a remote-control drone were going through the vents, searching for any kind of bomb or chemical Zero's own robots might've planted. You could never be too careful with lunatics like that.
"That's the thing. We're not entirely sure precisely what he did, all we know is that he spent several minutes uploading a large amount of data to the Public Network. Somehow, Zero managed to get past the Intrusion Countermeasures without setting off any alarms or triggering a system lock-up." Sir Wordsworth looked thoughtful, in a worrisome sort of way. "Whatever else he did, he also erased the data transmission records for a one-hour period, presumably during which the upload took place. Without knowing where he sent the data, we have no way of finding it without combing every computer connected to the network."
"I see." Aleister said, rubbing the bridge of his nose irritably. "Well, do we have people on that? Clearly there's no time to dawdle with this. What's on this network?" He was never much of a 'tech' person. Aleister didn't have any concept of the deeper intricacies of computers or networks or any such things. It was only tangentially relevant to a soldier or a ruler, after all, so he had always delegated any tasks pertaining to those matters to the professionals. The military had dedicated electronic warfare and tech support specialists, after all. It didn't make any sense to dedicate his valuable time and attention to tasks others were better suited to accomplish in the first place.
"Uh, my lord...you see..." Sir Wordsworth began nervously, evidently trying to phrase something in a way the General would find the least offensive. Aleister waved him off to continue. There was a time and place for courtly propriety and mannerisms, and this wasn't it. "The Public Network is... considerable in it's breadth."
"I know that, at least!" Aleister growled. The network had been a system put in place by the late Viceroy as a sort of 'digital public work' project. It served a wide variety of purposes and essentially unified most of the government-controlled computer networks throughout Area Eleven. All the Data Centers, Public Surveillance Cameras, Traffic Control Systems, Monorail Trams, Power Grids, Water Treatmeant Plants, and even select industrial sectors in areas deemed vital to Imperial interests were run by the Area's government, meaning that they would all be connected to the network. Even the eight massive Solar Power Arrays -landmarks of Britannian scientific ingenuity in their own right- were controlled via the Public Network and therefore potentially compromised. In fact, they were the likeliest targets.
The Tokyo Solar Power Arrays were the crown-jewel of the Settlement and Area Eleven in General, a colonial landmark second only to the Mt. Fuji Mining Complex. Thanks to cutting edge technology and surplus of Sakuradite after the invasion, the Arrays were able to generate and distribute electric power nearly twice as efficiently as the controlled Sakuradite-reaction based plants that were commonplace throughout the rest of the Empire. They were able to generate a nearly limitless supply of clean, renewable energy for the entire Tokyo Settlement, and underground cables were currently in the process of linking the system to the Power Grids of the other Britannian-majority cities throughout the Area.
Being a symbol of Britannian technological dominance over the both the country and the rest of the world in general, the Solar Arrays were a prime target for terrorists. Aleister could just imagine the Numbers salivating over the prospect of knocking their oppressors of their rightful high horse. Never mind that the Elevens also benefited from the system – The Power was routed to the whole Settlement, not just the upper levels. There were even cases of Numbers siphoning power from the grid to the ghettos. Since it would likely cause a public order problem if they tried to put a stop to the practice, the Viceroy and Aleister had always preferred to ignore it.
"I mean, I want a full sweep of the entire network. I don't care how long it takes. Just make sure you've isolated whatever Zero sneaked in before it does any serious damage!" Aleister demanded. He was already under suspicion for that stunt Zero pulled with the Emergency Broadcast System.
"That's...my lord, I'm, ah...Not sure that you fully grasp the situation..." Sir Wordsworth stammered, and Aleister narrowed his eyes.
"Just what do you mean by that, Sir Wordsworth?" The General said dangerously.
"I-I mean no disrespect, my lord! I only wished to inform you that...the, ah, scope, of the Public Network has widened considerably as of the last few months. I realize that your attention was likely preoccupied with more important military matters, so this may not have been brought to your attention before now..." Sir Wordsworth swallowed anxiously. "Back in July, the late Viceroy-God bless his soul- had free wi-fi hotspots installed all across the Settlement and a few of our other cities for the benefit of the public.
Now Aleister remembered; It had been a particularly hot summer, and the Viceroy was always looking for ways to increase his ratings with the commoners. The program-which they were still paying for-ensured that the lower classes could use their tablets, smartphones, and other gadgets to access the internet anywhere in the upper two tiers of the Settlement, free of charge. It was well known that you could get a signal from almost anywhere in Tokyo, even underground.
"Wait. Are you telling me that whatever Zero uploaded is transmitting through the hotspots to civillian devices?!" Aleister asked, greatly disturbed by the notion. If Zero had uploaded a copy of that video of the Viceroy held captive, it would become all too obvious who had authorized the man's use of the Emergency Broadcast System to publicly assassinate a member of the Royal Family. The act itself was bad enough, but putting it on display for the entire world to see was an international humiliation. The myth of the Royal Family's invincibility was shattered in just over six-and-a-half minutes, and every day that the crime went unpunished only served to increase his infamy. Some of the Royal children had died before, of course. Area Eleven alone had claimed no less than two other children of the Emperor before Clovis, back during the war. But that had occurred during the chaos of a bitter guerilla campaign, and their lives were already considered to be imperiled due to their status as political hostages.
If it were ever discovered that Aleister had facilitated this travesty and worse, fallen for Zero's ploy, his head was as good as chopped. Not to mention his wife and children back home would probably suffer the same fate, given the gravity of the situation. Sure, it would also expose Zero for the honor-less liar he was, but that would be small comfort to Aleister when he saw his beloved Stephanie and their beautiful children swinging from the gallows. No. This, Aleister could not allow. As a man, he would protect his home and family at all costs, even if it meant dirtying his hands and watching Area Eleven burn. If Zero had uploaded the evidence to the net, Aleister would be forced to employ...desperate measures.
"We can't be certain, but it seems prudent to assume so." Sir Wordsworth nodded. "If that is the case, it would be impossible to search every electronic device on the Network. We will of course be doing a full scan of every system we do have control of, but...It'll take time. At least a week, if we really push it."
"Damn it." Aleister was frustrated. Frustrated and scared. Zero was doing his utmost to make Aleister's breif tenure as the Acting Governor-Militant of Area Eleven a living hell, and the way he was going about it left Aleister little to do but squirm. It was humilitating. Infuriating. Aleister was not some child's toy to be trifled with, and he would be damned if he let some garish, masked race-traitor treat him like one.
Speaking of which, he had a bone to pick with a certain Margrave regarding a certain television interview. After dismissing Sir Wordsworth with a flippant wave, he and his entourage made to go find the impudent nobleman. Colonel Remington followed close behind as usual, riding on Aleister's coattails like the servile cur he was. Aleister only barely tolerated the man's sycophantic antics, and even that was due to the fact that he was his brother-in-law and he didn't want to make things awkward at their families' next social gathering.
Eventually, after a little wandering, Aleister found Margrave Gottwald atop his Knightmare, the hatch open and the man himself leaning out.
"Gottwald!" Aleister called out. "A word? I saw that little stunt you pulled on the telly yesterday!"
To his credit, Margrave Gottwald didn't flinch, or even blink. Calmly, almost casually, the Knight dismounted his vehicle from the elevator cable.
"Your excellency?" Gottwald drawled, using the official form of address for Aleister's current office.
"You've got some nerve, Gottwald." Aleister narrowed his eyes distastefully at the man, crossing his arms. "What in god's name were you thinking, making an announcement like that without my approval?! Are you some kind of gloryhound or something? Think you're gonna catch Zero all by yourself and take all the credit? Huh?" Aleister was trying to get a rise out of the man, to give him an excuse to demote him.
"Not at all, your excellency." Gottwald kept his voice cool and his face straight, unhesitantly looking Aleister in the eye. This one had some guts, it seemed. "I merely answered the question to the best of my abilities. I was unaware of any classification order as to the nature of Zero's true identify. If was simply ignorant of it, you have my deepest apologies." He said. Aleister frowned at the implication that the man was not sorry if there was no such standing order, which of course there wasn't.
Truth be told, Gottwald's announcement (and the implied position of the military and thus the current militant government) had been a great windfall for Aleister. The General's PIA Program was designed to keep the Numbers down, after all, and would by it's nature have no effect on home-grown traitors. Since Zero had been determined to be a domestic terrorist rather than a rebellious Eleven, the PIA's reputation-and by extension, Aleister's-was retroactively unsoiled.
But God-Damn did he resent Gottwald for going over his head like that! Aleister was the one who had the most to lose if Gottwald's statement to that demagogue Reid had gone south with the BMA. It should've been his call. But the damage was done, and by some stroke of luck his media contacts had been able to spin it so that Aleister came out on top. He had no illusions, of course – a Prince of Britannia was still dead on his watch. If he didn't find Zero soon, he was still looking at either a firing squad or a knife in the back. But Gottwald, reckless as he was, had managed to by them some time.
Aleister's anger began to simmer down the more though he gave it. To be fair to Gottwald, he'd been put on the spot by Reid, and managed to come up with a response that not only wasn't an obvious cop-out but actually managed to turn a bad PR situation around- at least for the moment. Aleister supposed he should apologize, but he was never the type. Instead, he opted for a different approach.
"Well, consider yourself lucky that I agree with your assessment." He declared imperiously. Gottwald actually blinked, seeming mildly surprised by the General's position. He had likely been expecting a reprimand of some sort.
"...Thank you, your excellency." He said after a moment.
"This latest attack only proves your point." Aleister continued heedlessly, wanting to avoid the dance of thank-yous and your-welcomes. He had always been a terse man, and never much given to pleasantries unless the situation demanded them. "I doubt the Numbers could ever come up with something like this. According to the man in charge of the inquiry, Zero was familiar enough with our security protocols to bypass them almost effortlessly. Since that information isn't even available to the respectable Britannian public, I highly doubt an Eleven could get his hands on it. All the signs seem to point to you being in the right – That Zero is not only a terrorist and a forsworn liar, but also a filthy traitor." Aleister was still furious at that Zero – Not just for his crimes, but for the fact that he had sworn on his good name and honor to return the Prince unharmed if Aleister agreed to his terms. Well, now Aleister knew what came of negotiating with terrorists; Dead Viceroys and broken promises.
"I'll level with you Gottwald." Aleister said, looking at the Margrave seriously. A plan was beginning to form in Aleister's mind, the gears in his head turning like clockwork. This Gottwald fellow had proven that he could be resourceful under pressure, a quality that was sadly lacking amongst most of Aleister's senior command staff thus far. Perhaps he could be put to further use on the present issue."You seem to have a good head on your shoulders- That's something I could make use of, if you have the stones for it." Some polite flattery combined with a challenge to his manhood was generally all any Knight Aleister had ever encountered needed in the way of encouragement, and Gottwald soon proved himself no different.
"What do you require, your excellency? Say the word, and I'll see it done." Gottwald adopted that same stubborn determination any self-respecting Knight of Britannia could summon at will, and Aleister indulged in a self-satisfied smirk. These hot-blooded boys were all the same- Hankering for a chance to win glory for Emperor and Empire, at the cost of their lives if need be.
"That's what I like to hear, Lord Gottwald. This Data Center here-this attack on Imperial property-it only serves to highlight the way the situation has spiraled out of control. We need to take back the initiative from Zero, or he'll have us running in circles forever. We need to smoke him out, before the Numbers start to get any ideas from all this madman." Indeed, that was Aleister's worst fear. That all the trouble he went to to keep the Elevens firmly under the Viceroy's thumb would be for naught. That all of their measures and preparations would be ruined by some treacherous asshat in a mask, that he would plunge Area Eleven into chaos once more. That these were merely the opening salvos in the rebirth of Bloody Eleven. "To that end, I'm placing you in charge of a special unit dedicated to a single mission- to hunt down Zero like the dog he is, and bring him in dead or alive.
"I won't let you down, your excellency!" Gottwald saluted, a look of quiet pride dawning on his face. If this development shocked him, he didn't show it.
"See that you don't. I'll forward the details of your assignment to you later, along with a dossier of available resources. You pretty much have carte blanche- provided you can get results in a timely manner. I need this done with quickly, Lord Gottwald. If you see to it, I'll make sure you're rewarded beyond your wildest dreams. But if you fail me...You'll never set foot in a Knightmare again. Are we clear, Lord Gottwald?" Aleister fixed the man with a hard stare.
"Crystal, sir. I'll find Zero if I have to tear apart the Settlement with my bare hands...!" Gottwald answered. Aleister nodded, already thinking of ways this could go wrong. But the offer had been made, and propriety wouldn't allow Aleister to back out now. Besides, it needed doing, and Gottwald seemed a few cuts above the rest.
"Good. I don't care what you have to do to get this done. This terrorist has had free reign for far too long already..." Aleister intoned gravely. He would put a stop to this madness and restore order to Area Eleven, no matter what it took. "I'll end up taking responsibility for it one way or another, so don't be afraid to crack a few skulls if you have to. Just get. Me. Zero."
The night had given way to early morning, and the sun rose over the Tokyo Settlement to herald Lelouch's return. He had walked back from the edge of the ghetto before hopping on the Monorail for the long trip back. The mission had been a complete success, with each one of his objectives checked off the list without losing a single unit.
Lelouch tracked his Virion's progress during the lengthy tram ride through the city. Using the Britannian's own little spy network built into the system, the Virion was able to infect approximately 87% of all public and privately owned computer networks connected to the official Public Network. Anything linked to the server he originally infected would itself become a carrier for the Virion, passing on the deadly malware just like a real plague.
By the time Lelouch reached the station, he was both exhilirated and exhausted. Last night's mission had necessitated a break from his schedule, resulting in a sub-optimal amount of sleep. This left him at risk of performing at a reduced level both mentally and physically, so it was imperative that he catch up soon.
But for the moment, his mind was still oozing with the possibilities afforded to him by this victory. He was practically salivating at all of the juicy blackmail material right at his fingertips, as the Virion made intrusion and monitoring of private communications a trivial affair. 'Secure' personal information such as bank account numbers, credit cards, and even official records could be easily stolen or edited with a few minutes work. As long as he was careful and didn't go overboard, it was well within the realm of possibility that the true extent of the Virions influence would go unnoticed for many months or even years.
Not to mention the opportunities presented by this treasure trove of a database he could now access at will. Public utilities of all sorts were controlled through the Public Network, such as bridges, libraries, traffic lights, the extensive monorail line, and the electrical grid. Everything was connected. Bridges to bust, libraries to fill with anti-Britannian propaganda, 'accidents' to arrange, trams to derail, and blackouts to cause.
And people. A considerable majority of the Britannian population in Japan and around the world owned personal computers of all sorts. PCs these days could take the form of anything from a bulky but powerful Tower-Box to a Smartphone no bigger than a business card, and everything in between. There were high-performance PDA's available that were both more powerful and more durable than typical Smartphones, but were appropriately more expensive as well. There was also a growing interest across various subcultures in custom-built 'Cyberdecks'-Machines that were controlled via a direct connection with the nervous system, rather than any peripheral or built-in interface.
Cyberdecks were a recent development, but they were already the 'next big thing' being discussed on all the talk shows and tech magazines. Lelouch liked to keep abreast of recent developments in the world of technology, in order to keep a few steps ahead of his Britannian adversaries.
The first such devices found their birthplace, like many of the great products of western civilization, in Europe. The Parisian megacity was the capital of the European Union, but was also known for being on the cutting edge of technological development in quite a few fields. Britannia, laser-focused as it was on military innovation, had lagged behind considerably in the realm of civil and commercial advances. Since Britannia had been engaging in on-and-off warfare with Europe for much of Charles zi Britannia's reign, trade was nonexistent. This meant that any consumer electronics available to the public at large in Britannia and her colonies were either cheap Chinese knock-offs or their mediocre but vaguely adequate Britannian equivalents. Genuine European machines were both very illegal and exceedingly rare in Britannian territory, as Britannian Customs Authority and their paymasters in the Ministry of Trade cracked down hard on smuggling operations. They worked in tandem with the B.M.A. and the Ministry of Information to keep out foreign products and ideas, respectively, in order to prevent the 'gullible commoners' from buying into those devilish lies yammering on about crazy things like 'freedom' and 'democracy'.
This, of course, only served to make Lelouch's plans go along even more smoothly, as inferior Britannian hardware and software made intrusion comparatively easier for many of Lelouch's programs, which were all based on the latest European code or his own innovations.
Cyberdecks, from what Lelouch had read about them, seemed interesting. The entire concept of a direct interface between the brain and an external machine was a fascinating concept in it's own right. These 'Cyberdecks' were the first of what Lelouch was sure would be many practical applications for this technology. A Cyberdeck allowed for not only unprecedented speed but also had the ability to handle abstract concepts in ways that would simply be impossible for an ordinary computer. The connection between the machine's memory and the human brain's ability to organize and intelligently interpret data allowed for a very formidable set-up, blowing conventional computers with similar hardware out of the water in terms of efficiency.
There were certain drawbacks, of course. The most egregious of which was the risk of fatally 'overloading' your nervous system if something went wrong with your set up. Because of this particular hazard, Cyberdeck's were held to much more rigorous safety standards and regulations than other electronics. The most powerful bits of hardware weren't legally available pre-built in Cyberdeck set ups, since they tended to tax your nervous system more heavily than the less heavy-duty components. Overclocking was also a punishable offense and normally impossible, as numerous safety features were typically installed in the Cyberdeck in such a way as to prevent tampering and overclocking of the system.
There was, of course, a sizeable community of underground Cyberdeck 'modders' who rejected the constraints of the established system. Simply put, a modder was someone who illegally modified a normal Cyberdeck with advanced components, and managed to 'Jailbreak' their machine to install software for the new set up and enable overclocking options. Because Cyberdecks were able to keep up with even the most sophisticated firewalls and intrusion countermeasures due to the sheer speed at which they could process information, they made perfect tools for hackers of either hat. Blackhats tended to be modders as well, given the already-illegal nature of their activities. There was an inherent risk involved in such customized machines, of course, but casualty rates amongst modders was surprisingly low compared to early Cyberdeck trials. A few DarkNet forums postulated that this might be due to the unique nature of a Cyberdeck; the brain of the individual operating the machine was functionally a part of the system, after all, and would therefore affect both performance and durability. It was theorized that hackers, already familiar with the mindset required for working with computers beyond the surface level most people were used to, would have a natural advantage when it came to Cyberdecks. Empirical data seemed to corroborate this, but Lelouch would reserve judgment until such time as a proper scientific analysis could take place.
None of this information was truly pertinent to Lelouch, of course, because circumstances conspired to prevent him from acquiring such an amazing tool in either iteration anytime in the foreseeable future. The embargo between Britannia and the European Union prevented any Cyberdecks from entering Japan or any other Britannian holding save through smugglers, which made them exorbitantly expensive on the black market. Leaving aside the risks involved in associating himself with such criminals, Lelouch's allowance simply would not cover the street value of an illegal Cyberdeck, which hovered somewhere between ten and twenty thousand pounds sterling.
Even if he somehow managed to steal or otherwise acquire a decent Cyberdeck without attracting the attention of the authorities, Lelouch still wouldn't be able to use it. In order to properly interface with a Cyberdeck, you needed a Datajack Port to be implanted somewhere along your spine. Such devices were only available in the European Union, as were the surgeons (whose services did not come cheaply) required to ensure that the implantation procedure did not create any health-damaging complications.
The situation bore keeping an eye on, at any rate. For now, Lelouch would simply have to make due with his custom laptop. It was still above par when measured against the cheap Consumer electronics Britannia pumped out by exploiting the massive pools of slave-labor available in some of the more stable colonies.
Japan, however, was not one of those colonies. Area Eleven, for all of the 'safety' and 'stability' purported by Aleister's regime, was far from the most productive Area, despite it's rich natural resources. The problem was that the Britannians simply could not get the Japanese to cooperate.
Traditionally, when Britannia conquered an area, they left much of the industrial base in the hands of the locals in order to maintain acceptable economic production levels. Obviously, this hadn't been an option with Japan, thanks to their stubborn total resistance dogma. The number of Japanese willing to play quisling to the Britannians had been almost nil two years ago. Thanks to the Britannian's brutally vindictive treatment of the Japanese, there were still only a handful of people in the entire country who voluntary had anything to do with the Britannians.
The dozen or so Japanese who actually had the gall to accept the Britannian's ridiculous 'Honorary Britannian' status were often lynched by their own friends and family, for being traitors to Japan and the Kururugi regime. In the end, Clovis' patronizing voluntary-slave-program had been a resounding failure, as the shattered remnants of the Japanese people still steadfastly refused to eat a single morsel off of Britannia's poisonous olive branches.
Lelouch had felt a twinge of pride, at his adopted homeland's choice to endure all the suffering and hardship Britannia could throw at them, rather than kneel like all the other Areas. He felt whatever kinship he had as a mutual enemy of the Empire grow whenever he read about something like that-When even after all these years of living in a virtual hell-on-earth, the Japanese still found the energy to spit in the eye of Britannia wherever it could. The other areas would do well to learn from their example; If every colony resisted to the level of Bloody Eleven, Britannia would be eaten alive in a matter of weeks.
Most of the women, elderly, children, and what few men managed to hide from Aleister's PIA Officers scraped out whatever existence they could in the Ghettos or the subcity. Food was scarce. From what Lelouch had seen on that car trip almost three years ago, the Japanese were often thin and bony. There was just something indescribably morbid about seeing the skin stretched out over someone's ribcage as they just sat their in the filth, waiting to die.
Much of the farmland and infrastructure was destroyed during the war, and agricultural families who had lived on the same patch of earth for dozens of generations were displaced. 'Reconstruction' Aleister and Clovis had called it. In reality, they had simply wished to relocate the vast majority of the Japanese population to the ghettos under and around the Tokyo Settlement, in order to keep them firmly under Britannia's watchful eye and merciless thumb.
As a result, most of the food available in Japan was either the product of subsistence farming in the poor soil around the city or a foreign import. The Britannians jealously hoarded the latter for their own subjects, albeit at an inflated price. Meanwhile, the Japanese were left with little to eat but millet, rice, and other basic grains. Gone were the days of the fresh fruits and leafy vegetables, or the finely crafted soups that Lelouch had enjoyed during his stay at the Kururugi estate. There were no official statistics available, even to a man as resourceful as Lelouch, simply because the Britannians hadn't bothered to monitor the 'Numbers' nutrition rates.
But it was obvious that the Japanese could not go on like this for much longer. Whenever Lelouch ventured out into his lair in the Shinjuku Ghetto, he would often come across a sorry sight or two that tested even his blackened heart. Old men without any teeth and barely-functioning limbs would incoherently beg for food or money from passerby. Starving children with crippling injuries often joined them, their parents either rotting in the camps or dead. But no one ever had anything to spare.
Lelouch required every pound of Reuben's allowance
He once saw a woman, huddled up against a noxious, abandoned dumpster in a dark alleyway. Since the backbone of Japan's public servants were rotting in the camps with the army and the rest of the government, garbage tended to pile up in the streets until someone got around to throwing it in the river. He had seen her more than once, in fact. Lelouch changed his route to his lair for security purposes routinely, but there were only so many ways to get to a particular place no matter where you started from. This woman, though, had to have been hanging around in that alley for a few months, given Lelouch's schedule.
She was always quietly sobbing into a small bundle of cloth, about the size of a wine bottle, her arms cradling it reverently. Everytime he was her, she was simply sitting there, as if waiting for something that she knew would never come. She never seemed to change out of those same ragged and torn garments she wore, which Lelouch surmised might have once been a casual springtime outfit. Every day he would pass by in his Shibaru without comment; After all, someone who clearly had problems of her own to deal with would be more of a liability than an asset in any of his plans, none of which involved the participation of a distraught Japanese woman in the first place.
Even so, he couldn't help but take note of her. Perhaps it was his pesky teenage hormones acting up again, trying to distract him from his mission with it's observations that the woman had once been strikingly beautiful. It was still apparent in her features and bone structure that she had traits that males (such as himself) had evolved to consider attractive. Not anymore, though. Humans were also programmed to find a healthy mate, and that obviously wasn't the case with this woman. Her skin was pale from spending so much time in the dark, and her once alluring figure grew unpleasantly thinner with each passing week. Once-silky brunette hair was greasy and tangled, where it didn't fall out in clumps. And her face- permanently affixed in an expression of absolute bereavement. Eyes weeping a constant torrent of liquid misery. A disturbing sight, to say the least.
One day, not so long ago, Lelouch had been passing by the alleyway as usual. He had just been considering the finishing touches on his Drones, so he wasn't as preoccupied as usual when he spotted her. She wasn't crying anymore, or writhing in the throes of suffering. She was completely still, and her long, frazzled hair hung over her face like a veil.
At first, Lelouch resolved to ignore it. The woman's existence was completely irrelevant to his plans, and had already wasted enough of his time and attention. But his curiosity got the better of him. Not really sure what he was doing, Lelouch pulled over and exited his vehicle. He slowly made his way into the alley, wondering what he would even say to the woman. He'd never even looked her in the eye, before.
It turned out to be a moot question, of course. She was dead.
A cursory examination of the corpse revealed severe-indeed, fatally so-malnutrition as the probable cause of death. The woman's degrading health was passably hidden by her nearly disintegrating clothing, at least from a distance. But if you came close enough, it was obvious that the woman underneath was little more than a skeleton, tightly wrapped in a wet bag of skin. Her head appeared unnaturally large on that shrunken body, even through the curtain of stringy black hair. The joints of her spindly limbs were hugely bloated, as if someone had used too much glue to connect the twigs to make a stick figure.
What really held Lelouch's interest, though, was the bundle cradled in her arms. He'd always vaguely wondered what was inside. What she held so precious that she held onto it even as she wasted away. Even now that her life was over, the rigor mortis only tightened her grip.
Ignoring the terrible stench, as he often did while in the ghettos, Lelouch undid the bundle a little. As much as he could, without going to the trouble of ripping it from her death-grip. What he saw was...perplexing.
Inside that little cloth bundle were the decomposing remains of a tiny, tiny corpse. An infant, obviously. But in a far greater state of decay than the woman, who was presumably its mother. There was little left but a seeminglycomplete skeleton, caked and dirty with the residue of whatever the bacteria didn't consume. Without a laboratory, Lelouch wouldn't be able to ascertain an exact date of death. He didn't know why he was even considering it- it wasn't relevant.
But still, he found himself thinking it over. The woman had shown no change in her behavioral patterns up to the day she died, at it was plain that this infant had been dead for quite some time. The implications of these facts together formed a theory; That the infant had been dead for an indeterminate period before Lelouch had first noticed the woman as she slowly died, perhaps hoping to follow her child to whatever particular idol she happened to patronize.
Lelouch shook his head. She had done nothing to secure a food supply, or shelter. For most of the Japanese, survival was a daily struggle. The state of their country required a great deal of effort on their part simply to secure the basic necessities, yet he had never observed anything that led him to believe this woman did anything but wallow in despair. It was evident that she had come into this alley to die, having simply lost the will to keep on living.
It was a cautionary tale that had served to harden Lelouch's heart even further than before. It was an object lesson- A perfect example of the fate that awaited those who lacked the necessary determination to do what was necessary to rectify their situations. Lelouch had lost someone too, just like that woman had lost her child. And it was highly probable that the same entity was ultimately responsible for both untimely deaths. But that was where the similarities ended.
Lelouch would not allow himself to be beaten down like some kind of dumb animal. He refused to let the offenses committed against him to go un-rebuked. For every man, woman, or child who did nothing as Britannia brutalized them and everyone they loved, the Empire was encouraged all the more. It gave off the impression that what they did was okay. That it was permitted. That just because Charles zi Britannia gave his say-so, any sin that they committed against the people of the world would be forgiven.
This was Lelouch's mission. To disabuse every person who called Britannia their homeland of this notion. They believed that they could get away with it, you see. And perhaps they had been right, then. He had been weak. Scrawny. A defenseless animal, who could barely protect himself. Much less a fragile, innocent little girl who couldn't even walk anymore.
Nunally.
Just the name made him want to cry. Right there, on that crowded tram as he sat in a crowd of oblivious passengers, recalling the memories of a dead man. His eyes locked straight ahead. His mouth was set in a firm, unmoving line of utter passivity. But the tears came down, just the same. Sluggishly, they fell. For minutes, it seemed like. But Lelouch endured the entire experience in total silence. He would not weep. Weeping was for those who could do nothing about their lot in life. For those who knew that there was nothing they could do to get back at those who wronged them.
Lelouch refused to be one of those people.
The Britannians thought that they were safe. He could see it, just by looking all around the tram car. The schoolgirls gigglingin the corner. Laughing at him. The adults relaxing and sipping their tea, reading digital newspapers or pocket secretaries. A family of four sat straight across from him. A mother doting over her son. A father gushing over a picture on his daughter's e-sketchpad. They were so content. So happy.
And Lelouch hated them for it.
How he would love to take everything from them, as everything had been taken from him. These goddamned Britannians...they were all the same. Ignorant of their own crimes. In a perpetual state of denial. How dare they wear those satisfied smiles on their faces, after everything they'd done?!They were all part of the monster that had stolen his life away from him. His mother. His sister. His best friend.
And this idyllic little family was a nucleus of the Britannian blood. A single cell in the massive organism that had ruined Lelouch's world. These people-they were the real enemy. That little boy would grow up to be a Britannian soldier. He had the look about him. That little girl might give birth to even more soldiers Britannia could use to commit even more crimes against the rest of humanity. The same with the mother, who was still young enough to be fertile. Hell, she might be a soldier herself. Britannia's nobility weren't picky about who did their murdering for them, so long as it was done. Both the man and the woman paid taxes to that supported Britannia's overblown military budget. A portion of the same monies that these two Britannians earned through their labors contributed to the construction of all of Britannia's advanced military equipment.
Such as close-air bomber jets, equipped with deadly chemical weapons. Such a thing was not the product of any one man. Only an advanced, economically prosperous nation could hope to field such a device. Britannia was collectively responsible for what happened that day. And Lelouch would have his revenge on each and every one of them. Whether it was the pilot himself or someone serving drinks in the far reaches of Britannia's colonial empire...They would all suffer as he had suffered. This, he swore.
He got off the tram at the next stop, his mind swimming with new ideas. His imagination had kicked into overdrive, thinking of ways he might destroy the lives of that family of four sitting obliviously in front of him. He had come up with many promising ideas over the course of the long way to the station. Now all he needed to do was figure out how to apply those concepts on a national scale. He leered sadistically into the distance as he took the scenic route back to the Academy. He could just imagine these buildings burning and crashing down, with the Britannians screaming over the roaring fires and jumping off the roofs. It would be like music to his ears.
He took a moment to take a deep breath and calm himself before he reached the Academy gates. It wouldn't do to disturb the other residents by wearing the face of a fiend. He had to don his tiresome mask, and pretend like he didn't despise all but two of them.
It was for their sake that he even bothered. The Ashfords.
His benefactor, Reuben Ashford, had always been an ally of his mother's. Now, with his relatively generous allowance and less-than-ideal-but-adequate material 'donations', he was Lelouch's (albeit unwitting) ally as well. By extension, his daughter Milly was afforded the same status. They'd given him a home when he needed it. They had even unknowingly facilitated Lelouch's earliest acts of war against Britannia. They were not Britannians in his eyes. They were like...they were allies, at any rate. Lelouch would never do anything to endanger the two of them.
And so he would endure the mask of Lelouch Lamperouge, quiet but promising young Sophomore. He already had the uniform on. All he had to do was keep the anger out of his eyes. To relax his wolfish face into a semblance of impassiveness.
Making his way across the courtyard, Lelouch reached his destination. The Ashford Academy Guest House was a sight to behold from inside and out, the opulent architecture consistent with the rest of the campus.
It was less a house and more of a compact mansion. Most of Lelouch's time here was spent in basement where he kept most of the miscellaneous machines Reuben made available to him, but the building also had the full amenities expected of an upper-class Britannian home. It had a dining room, a full-sized kitchen, four bedrooms including a master suite, a sitting room, a drawing room, a library, and three luxurious bathrooms. The largest of which included a whirlpool bathtub, complete with air jets and thermally conductive padding. All of this in a small three-story manor on the far side of the Academy's lawn.
Lelouch rarely indulged in any of these considerable luxuries, of course. At first, Reuben had insisted on appointing a full staff of maids and servants to attend to Lelouch. However, since Lelouch's plans required privacy and covert movement, he'd cajoled Reuben into having them reassigned as soon as he could. He lived alone, now, in this huge house.
He was self-sufficient. A novelty, amidst all of these bourgeoisie brats that called themselves his classmates. They could do nothing for themselves. The school employed a full kitchen staff, countless servants, custodians, groundskeepers, and other personnel to wait on the over-privileged student body.
But even Lelouch needed to sleep sometimes. It was a necessity for a healthy lifestyle, and peak mental performance. Such was the requirement of the physical machine that was the human body.
Lelouch fell into the King-Sized bed in the master suite after letting himself in. Exhausted as he was from nearly twenty-four hours of continuous activity, he swiftly descended into dreamless slumber.
Later that day, the Tokyo Settlement was still abuzz with rumors of an attack on one of the Data Centers on the mid-level eastern block. Of course, with the overall atmosphere of paranoia and fear, it was to be expected. This would mark the third incident in less than seven days in which Britannia came under fire from the self-identified terrorist calling himself Zero.
Even when the Granberry, one of the largest VTOL Hoverships in the Empire and marvel of modern science arriving at the Settlement's front doorstep at the Tokyo 1st Air Force Base, they were met with little fanfare. 'Governor-Militant' General Aleister hadn't even bothered to greet them personally, citing 'urgent matters' in regards to the security of the Settlement and offering his 'deepest condolences.'
Marrybell wasn't quite sure what to make of the man. Ever since her mother was...taken from her, she hadn't enjoyed the same influence at court as her more established siblings. And that was fine, normally. She had long since stopped bothering with the petty jealousies and intrigues that were commonplace on St. Darwin Street, and instead dedicated her life to a new goal.
The problem was that few in the Empire took her, if not her organization, seriously. Everyone assumed that she was just a mouthpiece for the Glinda Knights. A delicate little flower giving lipservice to cause. It was insulting.
But there were those who believed in her. Her brother Schneizel, for one. He was the one who bankrolled her and her Knights, providing them with their much-needed funding and material resources. When she made it known that she was dedicating her life to the war against terrorism throughout the Empire, Schneizel had approached her and offered to help in any way he could. He didn't snicker and laugh behind a limp or gossip in the salons about Marrybell like she knew her so-called 'sisters' did. He was sincere. He alone believed in her.
Aside from him, her own Glinda Knights were behind her one hundred percent. Leon. Soki. Tink. Even Toto. They were all like a new family to her.
And Oz. Her Knight...her companion. Her ally against the terrorists. Her friend.
They all accompanied Marrybell as she disembarked from the Airship to a fanfare of cheering commoners, a greeting of whos-whos in the Area including nobles, media people, industrialists, and politicians. A representative from the military was there to greet them as well.
"Your highness. It is a tremendous honor." The soldier bowed low, sinking to a single knee.
"Rise, sir..." Marrybell gestured him up casually. She had lost whatever interest she may have had in courtly mannerisms when she left the capital.
"Remington, your highness. At your service." He answered the unspoken question without missing a beat. "I have the honor to serve Britannia as a regimental colonel in Your armed forces. Governor-Militant Aleister has assigned me to be your official liaison with the militarized colonial government.
The man rose gracefully, and his followers echoes the shift a moment later. Colonel Remington was not a tall man. He had only a few inches on the petite Marrybell, although his physique was fittingly stocky enough for his profession. He had sharp features over an angular face. His short, sandy blond hair was rigidly coiffed in a conservative short trim. He sported a thick handlebar mustache over thin lips, and his watery blue eyes were alert and center-focused. He was the picture of a Britannian upper-class fighting-man, and the medals attached to his full dress uniform indicated that he was either a seasoned commander or a recipient of gross nepotism. Time would only tell which was more likely.
"Why hasn't Aleister come to see us personally?" Oz inquired from behind her, which was odd. Normally, her Knight let Marrybell do the talking in these sorts of situations for propriety's sake. She must've been really on edge after hearing about the attack.
They had all heard about it on the eight 'o' clock news, of course. It was on nearly every channel. Details were still shifty since the inquiry was ongoing, but it had been confirmed that three men had been found dead at the Tokyo Settlement's 34th Data Center. Even worse, someone had let it leak out that there was evidence implicating Zero as the culprit.
Zero. The man who shocked the world by murdering a Britannian Prince on national television. The clip had since gone viral on all three of the world's major wireless networks- Not only did virtually everyone in the Empire witness Clovis' death, No. That wasn't enough for Zero. His monstrous crime was immortalized on the nets, playing over and over in China, the E.U., the Federation...everywhere. By now, her brother's murder was being passed around in video files across the globe, like some kind of perverse circus act. It was sickening.
And the man responsible for it all was still out there. Free to kill and destroy as he pleased. Well...She would put a stop to that. Marrybell mel Britannia swore to herself; No one else would be hurt by Zero if she could help it. Those men at the Data Center- They would've had families. Left behind widows and orphans. Marrybell refused to stand for it.
The mel Britannian Princess and her Glinda Knights had arrived in Japan, and they would set this mad terrorist straight in short order. That...was a promise. To All of the good men Zero murdered- all those brave soldiers killed over the last week. And...even to her own family. For everyone the terrorists had taken from her. For her mother. For her little sister, Lila. For Clovis. For Nunnally.
For Lelouch.
Total War Encyclopedia :
Combat Drones
Combat drones, as the name implies, are semi-autonomous or remotely controlled robots that serve a variety of functions generally relating to combat situations. At the most basic level, a Combat Drone's only real distinction from other military robots is that they are expected to accompany the pilot into combat situations in lieu of a support team, rather than have them be controlled remotely from a distant location.
The logic behind this design is that it allows individuals without the resources or manpower of a full squad to effectively engage enemies that do, which 'levels the playing field' without diverting reinforcements from other theaters. Military theorists speculate that the cumulative effect this innovation will have on any army that employed it on a large scale would be staggering, cutting down personnel requirements by as much as 60%.
The most advanced Combat Drones, such as the code-named 'Evileyes' by the Britannian Military and the B.P.I.A. (infamously deployed during the kidnapping of the late Viceroy Prince Clovis and the murder of his escort by the terrorist now known as Zero) are even capable of successfully engaging multiple Knightmare-class vehicles. Much more common, however, are simpler and cheaper CDs being tested by both the military and the private sector. Numerous shopping malls, airports, and banks throughout both Europe and Britannia have been experimenting with Drone-based security programs. A single officer may be able to command several drones at once, especially if he benefits from the use of a Cyberdeck linked with his 'fleet'. This allows them to add considerable firepower to high-priority areas without seriously expanding personnel costs. The total price and cumulative maintenance for most Drones being much less expensive than a hiring a full-time security professional with insure, medical benefits, severance packages etc.
The military utilizes Drones for reconnaissance and bomb disposal purposes, but there have been several proposals to experiment with placing Drones in support roles for soldiers in direct combat situations. New England's own Harvard University Science Department has created several prototypes to fit in such roles. Aside from gun-toting Direct Engagement types, they also created CDs designed to administer medicine and combat stimulants, tactically apply frag grenades and flashbangs with mechanical precision, transmit real-time high-quality audio, visual, and infrared data, as well as Drones that form a 'Smart-Link' between the machine and an HUD system built-in to the operator's visor, allowing enhanced situational awareness that can be life-saving during high-risk scenarios.
However, such projects have received minimal funding and attention in recent years. While they were off to a promising start in the early 2000s, the dawn of the Knightmare Frame as the premier weapon on virtually every battlefield has largely overshadowed this and other relatively obscure programs. Even in the E.U., the birthplace of the Cyberdeck and internationally-recognized computer technology capital of the World, CDs remain largely relegated to Security and Police duties. Both Saedar-Krupp and Syndiqués Solutions de Sécurité have developed modest niches in the industry, but neither have successfully lobbied for wide-scale contracts with the Union Military or any local armies.
However, due to the relatively low monetary investment and mass-produced nature of CDs, there is always a plentiful consumer market both domestically and abroad. While private ownership of armed Drones is illegal due to the E.U.'s stringent gun-control laws, such restrictions are unapplicable in the various Areas fighting still Britannian occupation. CD's are particularly popular amongst resistance cells in the Iberian Peninsula and Super-Saharan Africa. Britannia does it's best to curb the importation of weapons of all kinds, but the Mediterraenean smuggling network created by French, Italian, Baltic, Middle-Eastern, and African sailors is formidable enough to ensure that a few thousand guns, CDs, explosive devices, and crates full of various supplies make it through every month.
There is a dark side to the modern use of CDs, though. Enterprising criminal organizations on both sides of the Atlantic have been known to field their own fleets of Drones, often making illegal modifications to civilian models to include automatic weapons and bulletproof armor. Since the E.U. lacks an equivalent to Britannia's Knightpolice units, law enforcement officers are often hard-pressed to deal with these high-tech gangsters.
The prime example of this seeming shift in the balance of power between crime and law enforcement is, of course, the terrorist attack at the Memorial Grand Opening ceremony in Area Eleven. The savagely successful and simultaneous assault on elements of three of Britannia's most powerful instituions (the Government, the Military, and Law Enforcement) through the use of exotic and unprecedentedly powerful CDs shocked not only the Empire, but the rest of the world as well.
Savvy or ambitious criminals, militaries, and corporations the world over took this as a sign of the changing times, and international Combat Drone development & production levels began to rise significantly in the months and years following the Memorial Opening attack and it's aftermath, the Black Knight Revolution.
Total War Encyclopedia entries will be added as 'fluff' for world-building purposes at the bottom of chapters. This is just extraneous information that may or may not be elaborated on further during the course of the story.
As a side note, see if you can guess which franchise this AU contains elements of. I'm trying to make the ZTW universe a 'Pre-Cyberpunk' World...That is, a world set just before the development of technology goes truly out of control and starts the shift from realistic to dystopia. Often, these sorts of worlds require a catalyst to really push the world over the edge. I hope I've made it clear that Zero will be going in that direction throughout this fic, which will certainly be interesting to flesh out. I realize that this chapter was mostly exposition and set-up, with not a lot going on. I'll try to get more action-y chapters out soon.
REVIEWS :
MadRaving : Indeed. Whereas canon Lelouch takes ques from old-school tokusatsus and western saturday-morning superheroes, this Lelouch tends towards the darker end of the spectrum; He's far closer to a super-VILLIAN now. Most tellingly, his goals are no longer set on making the world a better place for Nunally, as he no longer has that anchor of morality to hold him back. Instead, his only focus is to make the world a worse place for Britannia in general. That's another thing about Lelouch that's different from canon. Canon Lelouch told his followers that the enemy wasn't people per se, but Britannia itself. This Lelouch is an inversion of that; His enemy isn't any one man (It takes a whole nation to make a chemical-weapon dropping stealth bomber), but Britannia itself. That means he assigns collective responsibility for his sister's death on every single Britannian man, woman, and child. He plans to punish them all as if they had been personally involved with Nunally's death. Lelouch's nondiscriminatory mind-set will be a major plot point in future chapters, particularly the conflict it will bring with more right-minded characters on both sides.
OBSERVER01 : Normally I don't like to spoil, so SPOILER ALERT. if you don't want spoilers skip to the next review-answer. (Lelouch's Geass will be the same as in canon, but for a justifiable reason. Geass is a wish. It's what the recipient of the Geass want's the most in their heart. And what does someone who has had everything taken from them, in a seemingly endless torrent of factors beyond their capacity to change or struggle against want more than anything else? Control. Lelouch rigidly controls and regulates every aspect of his own life...With Geass, the power simply extends his will to allow him to start controlling other people.)
The Unknown ShiniGami : Bartley Aspirus was disgraced during the war, and so never got the chance to rise to Clovis' inner circle. I still haven't decided how I'm going to introduce CC to the fic, but I'm working on it. Don't worry, though. She'll definitely be making an appearance, as I'm planning to use her relationship with Lelouch as a major point of contention between him and his Parents, since they need her Code for Ragnarok to commence.
Cthreen : Yes, I realize that my understanding of science is extremely limited, particularly when it comes to biology and physics above a high-school level. Unfortunately, since that is my understanding of those concepts, there isn't much I can do to correct my errors in that field unless I dedicate further time to research (All that was based on the wikipedia article and an extremely loose understanding of computer viruses.). Let's be honest, though, I'm not going to do freaking college or professional level research for a fanfic... I will, however, refrain from delving too deep into concepts I have so little understanding of in the future.
Also, I don't want to sound like I don't appreciate your feedback or anything, because I do. Especially because it's critical. In my opinion, negative reviews help you improve more than ones that just say they like what I'm doing so far and keep it up. So please, feel free to pick out any flaws or problems you have with my work, especially relating to scientific or factual errors. Pointing such things out to me can only help me in the long run.
Knowing that, however, I'd just like to also point out that your review isn't as helpful as it could be. If you simply tell me that something is wrong without being specific about exactly what you have a problem with, I will unfortunately have difficulty ascertaining what you are referring to. This is simply because I wrote those descriptions to the best of my understanding, and therefore the entire thing is made up of what I believe to be (loosely) correct. Therefore, simply informing me that my information is not accurate, while helpful, is not nearly as helpful as telling me exactly what information I wrote that you believe is inaccurate. Were you to do that, it would be significantly simpler for me conduct further research along the lines you would theoretically point out, and thus allow me to make corrections without delaying future chapters.
GundamWing-00-Seed : I'll have to write C.C. in through an entirely different avenue. I won't be using the Code-R truck-jacking, since there is no longer any incentive to do so with the only involved character besides Kallen and C.C. being dead now. It's possible that Code-R might still be used, but it will have to be approached through a vastly different direction from the original. Aleister has established that pretty much the only active terrorist in Japan is Zero, after all, and even Clovis wouldn't keep something as Black-Ops Classified as Code-R on the Public Network, so Lelouch doesn't know about it. What I don't want to do is go through the 'stations of the canon' while making only miniscule changes, as many a fic is prone to. The plot of this fic will be very different from canon Code Geass. You might even go so far as to call it a DarkFic, since the line between good and evil will be blurred (A lot moreso than in canon, I mean.)
Guest : I was going for more of a Lex Luthor or Doctor Doom mad-scientist type, actually. Canon Zero draws inspiration from the concept of the cartoon superhero. This Zero is instead a pastiche of comic book super-villains.
Furudere : Lelouch spent most of Reuben's allowance (Approximately two-hundred pounds per week, more than enough for a boy his age to live comfortably given all of his room and board is complimentary of the Academy) is spent on newer and better components for his computers, not the Drones. The Drones were made from scavenged war materials he found in the Shinjuku Ghetto. Since the war in Japan lasted much longer than in canon, there's still a lot of dangerous ordinance and derelict machines lying around that the Britannians never bothered to clean up. Things like mines, grenades, bullets, firearms, and even busted-up vehicles are easy to find if you're willing to risk your life by combing through structurally unstable and barely-habitable Ghetto buildings. As is explained in Chapter 2, Lelouch designed and built the drones himself by modifying Factspheres to emit dangerous microwave radiation rather than x-rays and infrared light.
jarjaxle : Kallen...eh, maybe. She would be in a position to join his organization, at any rate. But...Cornelia is Lelouch's sister, remember? Of course, even that doesn't really matter in comparison to the fact that Cornelia is Britannia's 'Goddess of Victory' and facilitates much of their conquests. This Lelouch will hate Cornelia much more than canon Lelouch ever did. Same deal for Villeta. Inoue and Sayako...I suppose it's possible, but it seems like it'd be difficult to pull off without making it seem contrived.
Kallen and Inoue will likely make appearances in later chapters as part of a criminal group, as open rebellion against Britannia is very inadvisable if you want to avoid even more brutal crackdowns than in canon. Naoto, Ohgi, and Tamaki are in the gulags. Tamaki will become important in later chapters, as his character will be...very different than in canon. The war took a lot from the Japanese people, and having your entire family killed or imprisoned in dehumanizing conditions changes a man, usually not for the better.
KMNorway : I haven't read that fic yet. Maybe I'll give it a shot.
Knightmare Frames will become more important and central to the action as the plot progresses and Lelouch acquires more resources. He isn't using drones and computer viruses just because he prefers them, after all- He's using them because they're a more effective use of his limited resources. Information warfare is a relatively cheap alternative to pitched battle, so it makes more sense for an intelligent person such as Lelouch to use when there's such a disparity in the amount of resources he and Britannia would be able to bring to bear against one another. However, as Zero acquires more assets and followes, Lelouch will get a few Knightmares to play around with and make 'improvements' to, likely to the detriment of all Britannians in the vicinity.