Chapter Thirty Nine: And Pass The Ammunition

Arc Ten: Nanshin-Ron

Opening: "Sweet" - SID

The rain banged against the wooden rooms bulletproof windows, like demanding fists begging for some entry. It set a cool ambience against the warm, firelit office filled to the brim with one occupant and many hundreds of pages of paperwork. The man, a fortress, sat with furious hands, gripping onto his pen with a chaotic desk, his dozens of phones buried among hundreds of folders. In the heart of the Japanese night, one of these phones rang out with shrill, demanding pitches, filling the Presidential Office with an insistent scream.

Lelouch swore in annoyance as he wrung out his hands clear of their cramp, having spent considerable time abusing them, pressing wells of ink into paper as if he was crushing those who displeased him under his forefinger. He was a pen pusher in the best sense of the term, however a day of scribbling memos and scrawling signatures transformed his slender, robust fingers to the claws of a crab, that struggled to pick up the ringing phone that had disturbed him from his work.

Looking briefly at the green, windowed screen of the ancient handheld, Lelouch saw the screen read out the number of Diethard Ried's new private cell, bought in the midst of Lelouch's panic over security within his circle of colleagues. After Schneizel had casually mentioned Akira as if it were nothing, Lelouch had had several heart attacks and bought a dozen new handhelds for himself, with only one or two contacts on each which were all recycled regularly. He had also insisted on Diethard buying a second phone for him, which was the one the newsman had called him on.

"Good morning Julius."

Silently acknowledging his pseudonym, Lelouch answered in a manner atypical of his usual self, but entirely typical of the character he had created to throw off the scent of anyone listening in on Diethard's calls, "Hey, Diethard, how's things? It's the middle of the night over here. Please tell me you're getting me a cameraman or some kinda host out to this hole, I'm getting pretty damn lonely!"

Diethard, familiar with the facade, answered "I have the team you requested coming into Kyoto Airport on the 10th. I wouldn't leave you out on your own, would I?"

Lelouch took a moment to jot that down on a pad of paper, before asking "And yourself? We're pretty damn outnumbered in this country, we Brits, we need all we can get!"

"Mr Kingsley, I will be staying right where I am thank you very much. Unlike your little sideshow, I actually have a reputation to uphold. I'm not leaving the homeland for love nor money"

Lelouch sucked his teeth and answered in a folksy voice "Well ain't that a shame. I'll talk to you soon then?"

"Aye. Remember, your guys are a bit desperate to make it big, so you shouldn't have any issue keeping them in your orbit."

Lelouch thanked Diethard, before ending the call and thinking. While Diethard was willing to help him in return for exclusive access to scoops from the most notorious head of state on the planet, he had his own reputation to consider, and couldn't help directly. Lelouch didn't mind, as if he had his legitimacy would be challenged and his efficacy would be whittled down to nothing.

Lelouch didn't like false flag operations. They were tacky, overblown, and carried too much risks for the potential reward. That was why he wasn't going to do one. However, there was something to be said for the idea of spreading so many absurd stories via Diethards team arriving in Japan that any attempt by Schneizel to spread the story about him being associated by Zero would be dismissed as another one of those fake stories. These would be spread by Diethard's lackeys.

If everything seemed like a false flag, then people would become convinced nothing was, and Schneizel would be unable to shake the fabric of Japan by spreading his malicious information, and would be unable to blackmail public officials into submitting to his will, whether it was for trade today, or land tomorrow.

However, this was an extremely short term solution, and an unreliable one at that. It depended heavily on the perceptions of the public, and a heavy dose of chance. All it could do was buy him time to implement a more long term solution. Britannia would always try to win back its hegemony as long as Schneizel, the consummate conqueror, was at its head. There would only ever be short term solutions as long as Britannia still existed. Japan would need to protect itself from his brother's vast empire, preemptively if necessary.

This was the latter purpose of Diethard's media men, who would quickly begin their work in Japanese news shows and political talk circles, directing the narrative. Diethard himself would invite on more imperialistic guests to his show to talk smack about Japan, which would encourage the antagonistic worldview among the Japanese who saw it, while also providing Diethard the out of 'It wasn't me that said it, it was my guest!'

Going to war is very difficult, and very few people take the leap without great incentive, especially in the modern day. Going to war against public opinion is a very excellent way to get ousted, and so while Lelouch understood the threat Britannia posed to Japan's very existence, he would need to educate the public, directly and indirectly, to bring them to the level of understanding he would need. This was the other purpose of Diethard's men, a source of information and jingoism within the popular media.

He would also need a great deal more than just a bloodthirsty population; just as he had provided a chicken in every pot while Minister for Finance, he would have to put a gun in every hand. And to that end, his next meeting would be much more productive.

Unfortunately for Lelouch's sleep pattern, it came several hours later, and required him to leave the comfort of his house and head to the barracks in out in Ota.

He roused himself to go with great zeal, preparing himself to go with no lack of clatter and noise, coordinated as ever in the short time he had to get ready. Fortunately, he didn't wake anyone, as he lived alone now; Nunnally had moved out a few weeks ago with Sayako for a studio apartment.

He had been irate when she broached the idea, beside himself with worries about what could happen if she left his careful watch, however she had been insistent, causing a very ugly row. She had eventually gathered up her things while he was out and left, leaving only a note that she wanted to live on her own terms, without Lelouch's overbearing control, though he could still visit if he wished.

He had burned the note, though he had indeed visited. The atmosphere had been decidedly frosty, with Lelouch still implying it would be best if she returned to live with him. He had a legitimate worry for her safety with her so far away, and while he trusted Sayako, he felt that Nunnally could only be safe with the added security of his watch.

He was not asked back.

Returning to the present, he had changed into a heavy, three buttoned suit with a firm, sharp shoulder structure and regal overtones, hidden within the subtlety of the black fabrics many sharp angles. It was also incredibly uncomfortable, and so by the time he had been driven south, he was somewhat disgruntled, and did not have much patience for the small talk of former Field Marshal and present Minister for Defence Gilbert P. Guilford.

"How is Madam Euphemia? I've heard she was living with Suzaku-"

"What did you want Gilbert?"

Guilford bristled, before inviting him into the warehouse they stood in front of and out of the street-lit neon rain. The new building was even brighter, lit by streams of fluorescent lighting hanging off a grey, corrugated ceiling that was as tall as it was wide. The bland, vast room was as featureless as it was vast, however it contained two things that improved Lelouch's mood considerably.

The first was a few dozen exotic Knightmares, in six columns that stretched down the length of the warehouse, all armed to the teeth. They were painted in a blood red, with fierce, modern lines and vast, sweeping panes streaking out of the back, marking them out as the cutting edge Guren Mk.17-CiiX.

The second thing that cheered Lelouch up was the presence of their designer standing at incredible ease in the corner admiring her creations, the Indian Rakshata Chawla, complete with loose fitting lab coat and long pipe stuffed with tobacco, the hot gases of which floated about the area lazily like a spectre.

Rakshata had been one of the unexpected blessings of Lelouch's connections gained from C.C in China. She had done excellent work on earlier Gurens, which had proven incredibly tricky to combat. The saying went that their biggest design flaw was there was never enough of them. Fortunately, given the limited Japanese manpower relative to Britannia, quality over quantity would be the order of the day. The Britannian war machine was an unstoppable monster that threatened the very survival of their small islands, and they would need to be ready for the inevitable fight

Eager to secure her services for Guilford, Lelouch stepped forward and extended his arm out for a handshake, beginning "Thank you for coming, I can't imagine-"

"Hmmph."

Lelouch, hand still extended, dumbly frowned as she made the prideful yet aloof noise, somewhere between her clearing her throat and a muted chuckle. Taking a moment, in the face of the two surprised men she exhaled the last of her smoke before rapping the end of her pipe off Lelouch's outward knuckle, fixed in a stunned space.

"So eager. Are my babies that exciting, that you're tripping over yourself in awe?"

Lelouch's eyes fell in mild annoyance, but was able to hide it well enough, though he withdrew his hands behind his back. That pipe hurt something nasty, and he had no intention of being hit again. Hoping to be diplomatic, he shook his head and replied "Just enthusiastic to see you Ms Chawla. People with your talents are rare in the extreme, and given your history in Knightmare Design I would be extremely enthusiastic to continue to contract your models, after first surveying them of course."

She smirked. "I've been supplying the Japanese cause long enough, I may as well make it official."

Lelouch frowned again as she turned to walk over to the rows of Knightmares. His comment on her history was supposed to be tongue in cheek, a subtle nod to her work in making the Black Knights so implacable without compromising her in any public records. As it turned out, either the concept of subtlety eluded her or she didn't care, taking refuge in audacity. Neither of those things were encouraging, but Lelouch, aided by Guilford's obliviousness, moved on as she began talking them through her creations.

"The Mk.17 is my most recent design, a twelfth generation model built from the ground up to perform above and beyond the specifications of Asplund's eleventh generation potato. The CiiX is designed to be easier to produce in larger numbers, and, perhaps more importantly, repair. You can take any part out and put a new one in within the hour. That's engineering, that is. You need more than just performance, designing ergonomics takes just as much talent. I'd like to see that Lloyd build something half as useable. I'll tell you, he doesn't have the talent. He just straps lasers on it and calls it a day. No tightness, no actual engineering, no clever solutions, just more bloody dakka!"

As Rakshata began to get worked up, Lelouch gradually faded her out as he examined the Knightmares. Minimising losses was the key to victory, especially in the Pacific, which sapped at supplies and ate infrastructure. They were ideal, however his enthusiasm was dented when she labelled her price, which was almost as great as the budget for Knightmares as a whole, just for construction rights.

Guilford was similarly unamused by her proposal, though he, being the more emotional and extroverted of the two, vocalised this immediately, explaining how outrageous the sum requested was. Lelouch watched the one way exchange as Rakshata replied to Guilford with a look of wry amusement at what was an entertaining display, if one removed what Lelouch considered the dire context.

Realising that Guilford's angry approach, one borne out of many years of being in the military where commands were obeyed without question, was not working, Lelouch shook his head and turned away to think, while examining the red Frames. They were beasts containing the beauty and poise of a clear design philosophy. Not an ounce was spared or wasted.

Which, Lelouch supposed, fit in with what Rakshata had said. He recalled his own, second hand encounter with Lloyd, who had at some point or another earned the ire of Rakshata, when he had propped up the GN-102 project to bait the markets. Lloyd had entered his own creation, piloted by his own secretary Jeremiah Gottwald of all people, and was deemed too impractical.

All of which gave Lelouch two ideas. Begging and pleading only encouraged Rakshata to snicker and chuckle, not really caring much for the rank they held. To be impressed, she would need to see someone who she respected the talents of, someone who he had known well for over a decade, and someone whose granddaughters phone number he had on his speed dial.

One text later, Lelouch adopted a stern, authoritative pose, still turned away, to try his hand at his second idea.

"So these will beat Lloyd's Frames?"

Rakshata seemed intrigued by this turn in the conversation. "Unquestionably, you'd only be buying heaps of junk off him compared to these."

Lelouch, face obscured, smiled, as he realised she hadn't caught on as to why they were purchasing Knightmares. She likely assumed they were for suppressing insurgent elements, and that she was in competition with Lloyd for Lelouch's money. Realising she could yet be enlightened, he hinted "Have you had the opportunity to compare his models with yours?"

"I haven't. He's quite a secretive man, though I can't understand why. It's quite clear from the leaked photos he's trying to work on a new squash head shell, but little does he know how behind the curve that whole realm of cannon design is! In any case, I haven't had the opportunity to actually test against his designs physically. I'd love the opportunity to though, just to imagine the look on his face once his precious Lancelot is sliced up."

That was his in, his hook, his wedge in the door that he could slink in with. She responded so overwhelmingly well to the idea of spiting Lloyd on the battlefield he almost forgot his other ace in the hole, which showed up soon after, in its usual bumbling, tired state.

"Gracious God Lelouch, you do have a nasty habit of summoning me at the worst of hours."

Reuben Ashford, still dressed in his slippers, entered the warehouse with a glum resignation on his face, followed by his granddaughter Milly, who age had gifted both a greater shrewdness, a mature cynicism and a career as a lead news broadcaster on Japan's national television station. This had some potential for use, but right now Reuben was the man he needed to crack Rakshata.

"I.. Is that who I think it is?"

'Presto.', Lelouch thought privately, as Rakshata opened up once she realised she had the literal inventor of the modern Knightmare Frame in her presence. Hoping to use that leverage, Lelouch commented "Reuben is an old friend of mine, he took care of me after the war. His knowledge of Knightmares is certainly superior to mine, so I've asked him to see what he thinks. I just want to take a moment to give him some pointers if that's alright with you?"

Rakshata nodded, eagerly replying "By all means."

Lelouch smiled, inviting Reuben into a side room. Shutting the door behind him, he turned to explain.

"Rakshata doesn't respect Ministers or Presidents. She doesn't give a damn about people outside her lane, other than when they pay her. Guilford could stand there for a decade and she'd just laugh at him. What she respects is a Knightmare Designer who has proven his chops. She'll talk with you and listen to you. I'm already sold on buying these, but I need the prices to go down by at least 30%."

"So you called me."

Lelouch nodded. "If I could give you one piece of advice, diss Lloyd Asplund. It'll put her in an excellent mood. Talk about how you beat him at the contract 8 years ago. Explain, in as vague terms as you can, that these will see combat against Lancelot's very soon."

Reuben looked concerned at the last sentence, cottoning on to its implications impressively quickly. Lelouch, sensing the man needed one last push, explained "You've been thinking about retiring for a while, haven't you?"

Reuben frowned as Lelouch continued "Perth is a really nice city. Neutral Australia, surprisingly cool, and out of the way. Given how big the defence appropriations are for this, I'm sure I could procure a finders fee for you down the back of the couch, just to get you rolling."

Reuben's eyes widened as he realised what was being offered. A retirement fund that could get him to a cool, isolated place in the South, as far away from the fighting as conceivable.

"I'll get you your discount."

"Thank you Reuben."

He nodded, and went on his way. The elderly man had no doubt remembered the promises that Suzaku, the snake, had made with regards to a cabinet position back in the day, however with an escape to a peaceful retirement within his grasp, it seemed he was willing to help out one last time.

And he would pull it off, Lelouch was certain of that. Rakshata's respect for Reuben and her eagerness to smash Lloyd's hopes and dreams would secure it.

Suddenly, he received a text, which he scanned silently, revelling in the good news. It read "Good evening sir, it's Philip Lawless, part of the team Diethard is having sent over. Just wanted you to have my number for when we touch down."

Lelouch pocketed the phone and smiled. They were going to war with Britannia, they just needed to convince the country of it. He would have Philip and his men on national television to feed the justification for war into the general awareness. Next, he needed a route into Japanese media. Fortunately, he had that covered too.

"Milly? Could you come in here for a moment?"

I'd make a joke about Judith Miller and Milly Ashford, but that would certainly be getting a bit controversial for me. Down with that sort of thing.

Indeed, I'd argue that for once the plot here isn't as crucial to this Chapter and its purpose in the overall narrative as much as Lelouch and his characterisation. Here, I've tried to compare his attitude towards the Japanese Government to other things, both inside and outside the story itself. The idea to have Nunnally leave wasn't mine, and wasn't ever planned for until I wrote it, but it certainly lends a bit of perspective, as well as tying in the element of 'obsessed big brother' he had in the show. As it turns out, it was just one facet of his overall authoritarian personality that we saw in the lighter moments of the show.

The second comparison I made, perhaps less obvious, was to OTL Japan's attitude to America in the Interwar Period, an existential threat, against which they would have to commit everything, and rally under those who could protect Japan. They militarised very rapidly, acted aggressively, and everything worked out for them. Probably. Then again, they didn't have our Lord and Saviour, the immigrant President Lelouch Lamperouge leading an army of giant mechas.

But Lelouch is not Emperor, and he actually has to convince people to follow him to war. In particular, he has to get what eluded Hamilton for so long; Parliamentary approval, from people who hate his guts.

But that is for the next chapter, Diplomacy with Britannian Characteristics. In the meantime, stay safe, rate, review, and don't talk smack about your rivals. I'll see you again soon.

~Eth0