AN: Here ya go. Enjoy!
Arc II: The Fast Game
Part 4: A Dead Draw
"Dead Draw - A position where neither side is capable of making any headway against the other." –Great Games of the 21st Century, Glossary of Terms
November 23, 2017 (Z Day + 54)
16:30 (UTC + 1:00)
"K…"
"Ku…rug…"
"Kururugi!"
Suzaku's eyes snapped open, his body already moving to a sitting position, only to find that a familiar hand was keeping him down. Its owner was a fairly unpleasant sight to wake up to.
"Kururugi, mind explaining why you left your post and are, instead, here. Bleeding from the head, might I add?" Gottwald asked "sweetly."
Suzaku's hand shot up instinctively to feel the back of his skull. Instead of soft hair or warm blood, the sensation was that of smooth cloth. "Sirgottwaldyamashinahasbetrayedusheplansto-"
"Stop." Gottwald ordered in face of the indecipherable blabber, raising his palm in emphasis. "Breathe."
Suzaku's look screamed "Really?" but otherwise he complied and took a deep breath.
"Explain, slowly; preferably with periods and commas to punctuate your sentences." Gottwald requested sarcastically. "You do know what those are, right?"
"Sir, Yamashina has betrayed us. He's headed over to Lelouch's location now!" Suzaku blurted out hastily, though it was a vast improvement over his first attempt.
Gottwald frowned, whether in incomprehension of his rapidly spoken words or disapproval at his informal address for the Prince, Suzaku did not know.
"What do you mean Yamashina has betrayed us?" asked Gottwald, his frown further marring his features.
"Yamashina's plotting to kill the Prince at the bunker." Though the volume had decreased, Suzaku's voice retained the undertone of urgency to it. "He's got men with him too…Lieutenant Baldwin and some NAL soldiers in our uniforms."
"What!" roared Gottwald, his body already rising from its kneeling position.
"I'm coming with you." Suzaku said as he copied the knight's motion.
"No!" Jeremiah responded, a little too quickly to have not been an instinctive response. It spoke volumes about their relationship.
"I have just as much a duty to him as you!" Suzaku protested, refusing to be left behind, refusing to abandon his friend.
"You're injured. You'd be a liability." Gottwald countered pointedly.
"Then use me as a human shield or something." Suzaku said stubbornly, crossing his arms. "I'm not staying behind while my best friend is in danger."
Gottwald was taken aback by his response. He knew they were friends, but he didn't know they were that close.
"Fine," Gottwald barked. "But I'm leaving you behind if you slow me down."
If he was willing to die for the Prince, then maybe…maybe he wouldn't be completely useless.
Lelouch scowled in displeasure as three more blinks ceased to transmit on his screen, signifying that the remnants of yet another armored group had been wiped out. He cursed as he realized it had contained the last Sovereign command vehicle, and its escort, that he had sent out as a decoy.
Damn it.
"We've lost Team 2." Lelouch pointed out to his colonel, the bitterness in his words evident by his face alone. "They were outmaneuvered."
"I'm surprised you managed to keep active for that long." Ryze noted, not appearing to be distressed in the slightest.
"Not long enough." answered the Prince with more than a little frustration. "We're down to two armored squadrons and one of those is in risk of being cut off from us."
Ryze sighed heavily, observing the screen with silent despondency. "Whoever's in command now must be particularly good. I'd say it was Rommel himself if he wasn't already a general."
"I'd love to meet him off the field one day." Lelouch said wistfully, an abrupt change of attitude that earned him a look from Ryze. "He's a master of maneuver warfare. Positioning troops is second nature to him."
The CO raised a brow at his subordinate. "You're a fan, I take it?"
"An advocate of his theories." corrected Lelouch. "His work on blitzkrieg was fascinating."
"You might get that chance soon," Ryze noted grimly, "since we're about to lose this battle."
Lelouch's frown returned as he focused on the screen and began issuing commands through his radio. Defeat was an altogether detestable concept to the chess prodigy. "Why do you think the EU has concentrated their troops on our sector?" He managed to interject in between orders.
"We haven't been pushed back as far as the other regiments." explained Ryze as he looked over his expanded tactical map in consternation. "We're the annoying splinter that refuses to be plucked. It's causing them a lot of trouble as their forces cannot push forward without fear of getting flanked by us."
"We're in the same danger though, as the case has shown." Lelouch said darkly as another dot faded to nothing. "That isolated squadron is going to need reinforcements if it's to hold out."
"You recommend they stand and fight?" Ryze asked incredulously. "They're already surrounded."
Lelouch gave him an indignant scoff. "I can win this."
"And if the enemy jams our communication, what then? Those men would be lost to us. I cannot, in good conscience, risk them so callously." Ryze answered. "Order the retreat.
A frustrated Lelouch grudgingly obeyed. "2nd and 4th Company, Troop 1 and 3 fall back to Sector 4. 1st Company and 5th Company, provide support from Sector 5. Troop 2, cover their six." A series of affirmatives answered him. The map flickered as the dots began to move in conjunction and the EU's small flanking force was overrun easily. Ryze watched with him with regard as he quickly and efficiently organized the retreat.
"We're not going to win by playing defense all the time! As the vile Napoleon once said, 'the attack is the best form of defense.'" Lelouch complained, still unwilling to back down from his position despite having already ordered the withdrawal.
"You'd do well to learn that some casualties are unacceptable even for victory." Ryze said with a shake of his head. "And really? First Rommel, now Napoleon…if I didn't know any better I'd say you were going to defect any day." Ryze said the last part with a hint of mirth.
Watching them banter was a chuckling, happy go lucky Eric Maximillan, who stood in stark contrast to the impassive vigilance of the two guards flanking him. A red and black band was looped around each shoulder in display, as if a badge of honor.
Then again, it likely was.
From what Ryze understood, the two were members of the 3rd Battalion's 1st Company, under the direct command of one Sergeant Victor Wolfe. The platoon to which they belonged had an exceptional record in their brief time of deployment, having been directly involved in several stunning victories. The officers held them in high regard, and to the men, their presence on the field was practically an assurance of triumph. When placed in reserve or asked to pull back, it often meant that they were preparing to initiate a winning move.
It wasn't hard to see why they were special. A brief look into their history showed the group to have been the one directly under the Prince during his time in Montreal. The respect which most people held for royalty turned into awe as he entered their midst, treating each as his own. Then the awe became fevered loyalty as he gave them one success after another. Finally, it transformed into full blown fanaticism as this phenomena was translated into actual battlefield results. Their history together made them the most ardent supporters of the Prince, and each member held an unshakeable confidence in their leader.
In whatever Lelouch decided, these men would be the first to stand by him. They had become his guards in all but name, with all of them volunteering to take shifts protecting such a beloved individual from his various enemies, within and without. Their direct superiors agreed with their actions, seeing as the officers had trained with the Prince as well, and the regimental staff did not have the heart - or courage - to reprimand them for periodically rotating men out of the front without authorization.
They had fought and bled for him. They would have died for him too if he wasn't so damn good at micromanagement.
"There's nothing wrong with learning from the enemy." Lelouch said with an unapologetic shrug. "And you cannot deny that Europe has produced some of the finest military minds next to our own."
His colleague was saved from answering when the bunker's reinforced doors opened with a loud clang as steel met steel. "Kenji?" Lelouch, quite bewildered, recognized one of his devicers. "What are y-"
Lelouch didn't get to finish as he was forcefully dragged down by Maximillan behind a steel table, just as a wave of bullets passed where his chest had once been. Ryze was beside him not a moment later, instincts at work. His age still showed as a piece of steel had bit his arm from his second late reaction, resulting in a steady gush of blood from an otherwise nonlethal wound.
A brief, but rapid exchange of gunfire occurred between the two guards, who had placed themselves as human shields for the three against the band of assassins. Despite their valiant show, they were inevitably cut down, but not before bringing three - half the group - with them to the afterlife. All of that had happened in the span of three seconds, barely enough time for Lelouch to gather his wits.
"You need to get out of here, sir!" Maximillan shouted over the rhythmic buzz of the guns, confident that his message wouldn't be overheard given the noise screening it. His normally cheerful demeanor wiped away by a hardened and grim expression. "I'll cover you!"
Ryze withdrew his officer's handgun, lips set in a determined line. "You need to live, Lelouch."
"I'm not leaving you two behind!" Lelouch shot back, gun in hand and face mirroring theirs.
"Listen to me! You need to take command of the regiment!"
"But-"
"You're the only one who beat Rommel at his own game!" Ryze found himself saying. Strangely enough, he believed his words and felt at ease with the possibility that their roles might one day be reversed. Sure the boy could use more experience, but he had a brilliant mind. One that Ryze would be hard pressed to beat on his best day.
Lelouch was dumbfounded, gaping at his CO stupidly even as bullets ricocheted off of their cover.
The Prince looked as if he wanted to protest, so Ryze continued before he could find his voice. "Like it or not, you're used to being the underdog and still coming out on top. Every major battle you've faced has been in similar conditions, even if not in as grand a scale. Those wins you pull out of a hat regularly are ones even I'm hard pressed to do. You've come a long way since you landed, My Prince."
Ryze gave Maximillan a nod, signaling him to do what was necessary. "Now go and live, that's an order!" His tone left no room for hesitation. He smirked as he tensed in anticipation of his chance to escape. "Besides, I doubt I'll ever get my promotion if you get killed under my watch." He smirked, joking for one last time.
Then, as if by some unspoken agreement, the three rose. Two of them began to unleash their own barrage of steel death while the other made a break for the door.
"I won't let you down sir." Lelouch whispered in promise, barely audible and elicited a genuine smile from his friend.
"I know you won't." But he was already out of earshot. "Bring it you bastards!" He shouted, firing wildly into the enemy mass, temporarily suppressing them so that Lelouch could escape safely.
"We've got the intel already. Cut off their communications!" barked Kenji as he saw what occurred. "I'll take care of the Prince." He backpedalled through the door they came, no doubt to try and cut off the Prince, and left two of his men to finish the job. Even so, the colonel and the private were still outgunned. A lucky shot managed to nick Eric in the shoulder, followed by another one a few inches below.
Based on the sound of erratic gasps, Ryze knew the wounds would kill without treatment.
Still, he didn't get to the rank of colonel by his good looks alone. He flung his now empty pistol at one of them, lulling the assaulters into a sense of overconfidence now that he was unarmed. Ducking as he was, Ryze was still able to pinpoint their location by the sound of their oncoming footsteps.
Once one of them was close enough to his corner, he sprung into action. His right foot shot out to sweep the man's legs, dropping him to the floor swiftly, as he leapt on his enemy and followed through with a powerful haymaker that would've made Mohammed Ali proud. Ryze winced as he felt the bullet lodged in his left arm dig deeper in protest of his sudden movement, but strived to work through the pain. He grabbed the unconscious man's rifle and made quick work of the other, who had his back towards him for some reason.
His face turned ashen as he saw why. On top of the table was a cylindrical device that could only be a bomb.
3…2…1…
He closed his eyes in quiet resignation of his fate, glad that he had at least done his part to ensure the Prince's survival. There was a loud whir as it activated and he waited for the heat to cremate his body.
Dying was a surprisingly quiet affair after the initial explosion. Hopefully, Heaven would be just as calming. It was also relatively painless, except for the pain in his side that would not go away, much to his chagrin.
His eyes flew open. Why could he still feel pain if he was dead?
The answer, of course, was that he wasn't. His eyes, with disbelief apparent in them, glanced at the bomb to find that it had indeed activated properly, despite the fact that the container had not disintegrated.
"S-sir….are w-we d-dead?" Eric managed to say in between pained breaths.
"Afraid not." replied Ryze. "Whatever the bomb was, it looks like it fried our equipment."
A quick scan of the room showed the equipment smoking as its internal parts burned. Electricity would crackle occasionally in brief showers of blinding sparks. The colonel sighed and searched the dead man, only to be rewarded by a cigarette and a lighter.
Thank God smoking didn't require electricity. Normally, Ryze did not smoke unless the occasion demanded it but…
He took a long drag, inhaling the nicotine greedily as it gave him some temporary relief, before blowing it out with a huff, shuddering from the pleasure it gave him. "You want one?" He asked, offering one to the downed and dying man.
Maximillan gave him a weak grin. "N-never a-actually tried one of t-t-these before." He struggled to say before letting the colonel place the burning poison in his mouth tentatively.
Ryze smiled as the private coughed; a predictable reaction for first timers. He quickly went to work bandaging both their wounds. "Looks like we're going to have to sit tight for a while. No doubt someone will come looking for us soon enough." He said, finishing up with the stopgap first aid to control the sporadic bleeding.
The colonel took another long drag from his own cigarette and collapsed to the floor in his weakened state.
He was getting too old for this shit.
His eyes snapped around and his ears perked. "Colonel!"
Tokyo Concession, Area 11
A small procession of assorted vehicles sped through the deserted streets of midnight Tokyo, completely ignoring trivialities such as traffic lights. At this time of night, it wasn't as if there was anyone who would stop them.
Not that anyone could, of course.
The insignia boldly emblazoned on the cars marked them as the Viceroy's personal transport. The bright, bordering blinding, pearl and gold which served as the motif was designed specifically to draw attention to the group. It was not unlike a male peacock showing off his feathers really.
Inside one of the limos, Clovis observed the roads through bleary eyes, struggling against the inevitable weight on his eyelids. He had just finished a grueling session with the NAC, Area 11's largest sakuradite refining company. It also happened to be controlled by Eleven collaborators and suspected terrorist sympathizers. It meant that each meeting could be described with one distinct word.
Tedious.
Every little word, every agonizing detail in the contract had been triple checked by two teams of lawyers. This was followed by the drafting of proposals, counterproposals and counter-counterproposals, all of which was in legal jargon, with the mandatory odd Latin phrase thrown in occasionally. The double-talk had served to blunt the Prince's mind as he was compelled to endure their overly complicated, professional vernacular that doubled up as a torturous endurance exercise.
It had all been worth it though, as he left the talks with his objective secured. In the end, the NAC acquiesced to his demands for increased production in exchange for a lowering their tax per barrel. The thought of what he had given up created a crease in his elegant physiognomy. Clovis let loose an obnoxious yawn, snuggling into his seat to find a more comfortable position. His buttocks were still a little numb from his earlier activities.
Abruptly and without warning, the limo screeched to a halt, nearly sending its passenger through the windshield as it did.
"What the hell is wrong with you!?" Clovis was about to snarl, before a thunderclap exploded in his periphery. The deafening shriek that followed only served to reinforce his fears.
This was an assassination attempt.
"Keep moving!" screeched the guard beside the driver. "We must get His Highness to safety!"
Hours of servitude kicked in as the man instinctively obeyed, stepping hard on the accelerator. Another limo, one of his three decoys, crashed into the sidewalk. The soldiers inside all dead if the bullet sized holes that littered the windows were anything to go by. The apartment near the car, unfortunately, suffered extensive damage as well. No doubt more than a few civilians had been killed, caught up in the crossfire.
"This is Stoke, we need backup! Prince Clovis is under attack!" the guard yelled into a radio, presumably contacting the Tokyo military installation. "What do you mean you can't?"
Clovis eyes snapped open, any thoughts of sleep banished, and he snatched the communicator from his lackey angrily. "This is Clovis la Britannia, Third Prince of the Empire, Viceroy of Area 11 and the final authority on all domestic military affairs." He said crisply, each honorific serving to further cow its listener into following his next instruction without question. "If you don't get me some knightmares right now I'll have all of you executed for assisting regicide!"
There was a brief silence in which Clovis suspected the men were consulting with each other, before the radio started emitting once more. "Your Highness, I am Brigadier General Wells. I've mobilized all available forces to assist you."
"Just send me the goddamn knightmares!"
"Unfortunately, we've got none available right now." The general answered remorsefully. "But I've contacted the Special Units about the situation."
"You've got over two hundred fucking frames in your base, and you can't even send me a squad?" Clovis asked frostily, promising to have the incompetent commander hanged for this. Good help was so hard to find these days.
"Rebel agents managed to infiltrate our holding bay and activated, what we suspect, is an EMP. Most of our frames had their systems fried. Engineers report it will be another hour to get the first batch battle ready."
"Fine!" snapped Clovis, "We're going to have words about this, General." He promised, and the General audibly gulped in anticipation of retribution.
He would have to make it out alive in the first place, of course.
The limo, with great difficulty, managed to weave past the burning remnants of their escorts, even as chaos erupted around them. Heavy gunfire rained down on them from the windows above, seemingly in all directions, while the occasional RPG would strike a car, setting it ablaze. In the span of 36 seconds exactly, most of the convoy had been massacred ruthlessly and efficiently.
It was a miracle Clovis survived and managed to get out of the kill zone in time. "We should be safe now, Your Highness." said the guard, relief obvious in his voice. Trailing behind was the only other group of survivors in an SUV.
"You spoke too soon." muttered Clovis, as he looked at the side mirror worriedly. Springing out of the smoke and debris was a triad of modified Glasgows – the resistance's famous Burai model. It left no doubt that the attack was conducted by the JLF, or, at the very least, supported by them.
The Prince swore bloody vengeance for the umpteenth time that minute as the driver swerved 'round a corner without braking, promptly slamming him into one end then the other as his body struggled against inertia.
Behind them, the SUV escort was gone, crushed by a giant three-fingered claw attached to the mecha by a surprisingly elastic steel chain and another half dozen men ferried to the afterlife.
"Oh God…" Fear was apparent in Clovis' trembling demeanor as he watched the Burais give chase. Another of the machines released its retractable claw, steel grip soaring through the air, threatening and graceful at the same time. The slash harken looked as if the grim reaper himself was coming for the doomed men.
An ominous crunch signaled it had made contact with the car, the appendage biting like a fanged snake and with enough speed to be one too. The limo stopped moving though its wheels rotated at breakneck speeds, but had no visible effects aside from the skid marks beneath. The driver's desperate actions became truly futile as the vehicle's rear became inclined; the pilot now making use of the weapon's retracting function.
Just as suddenly, the deformed hull hit the ground with an ugly sound.
An unknown model towered over them protectively, resembling a mother covering her child. The frame's sister, falling recklessly from a VTOL model that was larger than the standard gunship, had landed on one of the Burais, dislocating the shoulders and uniting body with the asphalt. The knightmare rifle was already unleashing a steady stream of armor piercing rounds, easily dispatching the surprised opponents with twin explosions that incinerated them.
Their savior's cockpit unlatched, pushing the pod backwards and jutting out of the machine's chest. Clovis rubbed his eyes and blinked twice at the sight to make sure his vision was clear.
Their rescuer…was a girl? A teenage one, no less! Make no mistake, Britannia did not discriminate based on gender, but there was something about the situation that inexplicably irked the Prince's masculinity.
"Prince Clovis," the blonde began with a tone of utmost reverence, "Britannian Special Honorary Foreign Legion reporting for duty!"
"That's odd." General Erwin Rommel muttered to no one in particular, as he surveyed the battlefield display. More specifically, he was observing a particular sector of the city whose defenses had held out despite reports indicating that it was, supposedly, the weak link. The commander in charge of the men there had put up a commendable effort, managing to stop a force almost thrice his through the brilliant use of positioning and maneuvering.
It had taken his personal intervention to finally seal the deal and catch them in a net.
To the unknown commander's credit, his men had reacted quickly, breaking out almost as soon as they had been surrounded and Rommel had been prepared for another grueling battle of attrition to take place as the 4th Brigade prepared to test their enemies once more...
Only for them to find that the enemy lines were in disarray. It was a complete turnabout from the skilled defense minutes ago, lacking the finesse and surgical precision that was his adversary's style. The enemy had moved with such coordination and drive, knowing where to go and what to do. Now? They seemed to be struggling to even coordinate their actions.
It was as if the commander had suddenly…disappeared.
The very thought brought a frown to Rommel's face. He hadn't ordered an assassination and, to his knowledge, neither had the Military Intelligence Directorate.
So what the hell was going on?
He couldn't help but feel that there was something at work here. Rommel scanned the map once more with an uneasy frown. He did not like being kept in the dark, but he had a job to do.
Tentatively, he gave the order for the Brigade to attack, a sinking feeling in his gut that he had just made a terrible mistake pushing into the most heavily urbanized zone of the city.
In the horizon, the last of Day's strength gave ground to the might of its eternal rival.
"I don't like this sir." confided the Colonel to his superior. "The Chinese are far too secretive to be trusted."
"Your suspicions are not unreasonable, Colonel Tohdoh," The general replied as he fingered the katana still sheathed by his side, "but we have come too far to turn back now."
"But General Katase, we've yet to receive word of Tokyo group's success!" protested Tohdoh heatedly. "Without the Viceroy's death, it is unlikely that there will be sufficient chaos for us secure Kyushu!"
A man with spiked black hair leaned against the wall, hands laxly pocketed. For a military man, he was strangely out of uniform and informal in manner. "Thankfully, we have an ace in the hole." Tohdoh gave the other man a questioning look, while Katase nodded sharply, urging him to go on. "The Federation has been kind enough to give us a replica of their EMP."
Tohdoh's eyes widened at the implications. "Such a device would allow us to neutralize Miyazaki easily, General Taito!" He exclaimed, awe in his voice. He had witnessed firsthand the weapon's power and his analytical mind had already thought of several dozen ways it could be useful.
"Exactly, Colonel. As we speak, our agents have already found a suitable location to plant it in. It will make your mission infinitely easier. A surgical strike on Miyazaki will cripple the military here, given that most of the Britannian Army's assets are stationed in Hokkaido and Honshu. The former is too far to hinder us; the latter is in disarray because of the first bomb." continued Katase with a schoolmaster's lecturing tone.
"Additionally, our allies will begin predetermined attacks on several key locations to further the chaos in the mainland." added the other general. "We expect that it will take at least a week for them to deal with these other threats."
"More than enough time to take the island." Tohdoh concluded, his eyes lighting up in realization as the final pieces of the puzzle were laid out before him.
"As you can see, Colonel, the Viceroy's death is no longer integral to our plans. It would be a boon, yes, but not essential." Katase said, before taking a sip of his tea. "Now, while you are bust with the military base we'll need someone to take command the force tasked with capturing the city. Lt. Col. Kusakabe is next in line to you, correct?"
Tohdoh's frown was not lost on his two commanding officers. "That is correct, sir." He answered curtly, nevertheless.
"You disapprove?" Taito asked, brows arching up in question.
"No disrespect to Kusakabe's skills as a tactician, sir. He is a very capable commander, but he is too blinded by hate for the Britannians and I am…uneasy of putting him in such a sensitive role where he will undoubtedly have to deal with them. I have my reservations if he can keep calm in such a role." Tohdoh's lips pursed as he chose his next words.
"He may do something rash…something that we will regret later on."
Orion watched impassively as plumes of smoke loomed ominously over the sky. With the sun long gone, it was difficult to make them out.
"Sir, shouldn't we advance to aid the defenders?" The aide beside him shuffled nervously. When Orion showed no signs of having heard him, despite their close proximity, he added a few more words. "Command is requesting we move to assist."
"Command has no say over my regiment." Orion answered calmly, never taking his eyes off the scene. "And I deem it is not yet time for us to engage. Caution, after all, is the better part of valor."
"This won't sit well with the men." The man warned, more worried than threatening. "They grow restless after weeks of inaction."
The Prince gave him a dangerous look and the man knew he shouldn't have brought up any reference to their passivity…or rather their failure. "The men are sworn to me. They will do as their told." His tone had a note of finality to it and the aide nodded compliantly.
"Of course, sir."
"Colonel!" exclaimed the knight, showing incredible dexterity as he was beside the regimental commander in an instant.
Ryze offered the man a wry grin. "Sir Gottwald, it's good to see you."
"Where is he?" Gottwald asked, concerning saturating his voice, even as the CO was tended to by a pair of medics.
"Where he is not your concern right now." Gottwald frowned at his statement, mouth opening in protests. "The Prince is in danger in more ways than one. If the Regiment falls here, and it likely will without proper guidance, he will be executed for incompetence."
"He's a part of the royal family!" Jeremiah protested.
"Lelouch lives only because the Emperor has been kind enough to give him a chance to prove himself. What do you think will happen if he not only fails, but allows his entire regiment to be decimated in his first assignment?" The Colonel asked rhetorically. "He will be marked for death by the OSI."
Jeremiah face twisted into an angry scowl. "I need to be by His Highness's side right now. If he is killed, it will all be for naught!"
"You're not listening!" Ryze growled, grabbing a fistful of the man's front and drawing him closer, much to the medics' chagrin. "If the regiment is beaten, his life is forfeit anyway!"
"A Knight's place-"
"is where his Lord needs him, not where he wants to be." interrupted Ryze, pressing his point further. "Now will you let me finish? I have maybe a few minutes left before the medics forcefully send me to the battlefield clinic for surgery. I've lost far too much blood to remain conscious for much longer."
Gottwald's shoulders slumped slightly. "You are a perfect fit for the job. You have the rank of the Major, currently the highest in the regiment next to me and the Prince. You have the most experience of all the remaining officers and you are respected by the men by virtue of your relationship to Prince Lelouch. Right now, you need to take command of the regiment on his behalf. Besides, it's not as if we aren't going to send anyone to rescue him. Kururugi can go."
"Kururugi is injured!" Jeremiah countered.
"Then it's good that he will have Sergeant Wolfe's Platoon to assist him." Gottwald remained against the decision. "If anyone can find him…if anyone knows how the Prince thinks, it will be Kururugi."
"You're asking me to entrust His Highness's life to a Number?" The Knight asked sharply, his tone harsh.
"I'm asking you to trust the Prince's friend."
Gottwald weighed his options silently, before standing up. "Think fast, Kururugi." He said, tossing a key towards the Japanese teen.
"Sir?" Kururugi, catching it deftly with one hand, gave the major a surprised look. Suzaku continued in a pointed manner. "This is your knightmare's key."
"You'll need a working frame if you're to stand a chance against Yamashina." Jeremiah looked him straight in the eye. "Try not to wreck this one."
Suzaku couldn't tell if he was talking about the frame or about the trust the major was placing in him. It didn't matter though. He would save both. "Yes sir!" He answered, his confident voice reflecting his determination clearly.
"Go!" Gottwald barked, and Suzaku needed no further prompting.
"One last thing, Major. You'll need to reach the M-4 Mobile Base. As you might have noticed, our equipment here has been destroyed." As if to emphasize his point, a shower of sparks hissed to life.
"Yes sir." Jeremiah rushed out of the bunker in a dead run, and hopped into the jeep he had arrived in, before speeding away. The M-4, being a giant target for the EU, was safe well behind the frontlines. Being high conspicuous also meant that officers would only use it as their base when a large degree of mobility was necessary. In the case of a siege, like right now, they were often stashed away and kept as a reserve in case something…untoward should happen.
The few operators that had been left to keep the M-4 functioning were, to put it lightly, panicking.
"The EU is advancing!"
"We've lost Alpha Group!"
"Fifth Company taking heavy fire here!"
"Fall back! Fall back!"
More reports streamed in from the radios as the staff tried – and failed horribly – to deal with a battlefield rapidly devolving into anarchy. True, they were officers, but the majority of them were there for the technical skills they could offer, not for their abilities as leaders or strategists.
It was time to put an end to this. "Ten-Hut!"
Years of training kicked in as the men snapped to salute almost involuntarily, their previous state of disarray completely forgotten. "As the highest ranking officer active in this regiment, I am taking over until further notice."
"What happened to Colonel Ryze and Major Britannia, sir?" One of them blurted out, unable to control his curiosity.
"That is above your pay grade, soldier." Gottwald replied gruffly. "I need to speak with Sgt. Wolfe. I need a status report of our front and I needed this done yesterday!" He barked, the tone oddly reminiscent of a drill sergeant.
The men jumped into action, a drive not present before in their motions. Jeremiah walked to the central chair, the seat typically reserved for the ranking officer. Its former occupant eagerly handed him a com link to communicate with, and stepped away to man one of the posts.
"Sir, Sgt. Wolfe is on the line."
The major acknowledged with a nod, and placed the com link in his ear. "Sgt. Wolfe, this is Major Gottwald."
"Sir? Why isn't Colonel Ryze there?" Wolfe's startled voice asked.
"Colonel Ryze and the Prince were ambushed at the bunker. Both are alive, but the Prince is still out there. I need your platoon to scour the sector and bring him back to the M-4 safely. Kururugi has been dispatched to provide knightmare support, if it becomes necessary. He will be heading this op, understood?"
"Sir, yes sir! I'll have my men there in five. Wolfe out!"
Gottwald sighed, leaning back into his chair. Five minutes was a lifetime on the field, but it was unlikely they could move any faster. Hopefully, the Prince could hold out that long.
"Sir Gottwald, we're receiving news from the other regiments!" Jeremiah frowned at this. It would have to be important if they were being contacted, and really, there were only two types of news that required such measures: the really good news and the really bad news.
Seeing as this was a battle, it was probably really bad news. "NAL infiltrators have stormed the command bunkers and succeeded in killing General Hayes and his staff!"
Sometimes, Jeremiah hated being right. "What of the other regimental commands?"
"Killed or injured, sir." replied the same man grimly.
Suppressing a screech, Gottwald tried to choke the armrests. "Who's in charge then?"
"You are sir. The men are waiting for orders." Great. Instead of dealing with just a regiment, he now had to handle a division's worth of problems.
"Make those bastards bleed for every inch!"
"Shouldn't we report to the JLF that Clovis is still alive?" asked Kaname Ohgi, the gun in the schoolteacher's hand looking out of place.
"Nope." was Mao's reply, delivered so cheerily that it made his companion wonder about his sanity.
"But-"
"But wasn't the Prince's death integral to the plan?" finished the demented Chinese agent cockily. "Not anymore. There have been new developments to compensate for this failure."
It amazed Ohgi how the man could answer his questions before he asked them. It was as if his mind was being read! Mao was crazy, but he was also a genius. As the saying goes, there's a fine line between them...
"Meanwhile, we have a new mission." Mao was now addressing the rest of the recently united rebel crew. "We've been asked to cause as much mayhem as we can here, and I can't think of anything better than inciting the locals!" He let out a mad cackle that, by now, everyone had gotten used to.
Kallen snorted disdainfully. "Like fliers or something? Those don't stir up the masses."
"Oh nothing that silly." Mao said in an assuring way.
"Well what's your idea then?" demanded the resident loud mouthed idiot. Ohgi sighed. Tamaki was impetuous as always.
"I was thinking we frame the military."
"Frame them for what?" A suspicious Sugiyama asked.
"For the death of innocent civilians, of course! What else could incite the peasants so effectively?" retorted Mao, as if speaking to a child.
Yoshida considered his words carefully before answering. "The military hasn't conducted anything like that recently."
"We'll have to do it ourselves then." Mao said, looking as if he had all the answers.
"What?" asked Ohgi sharply. He was always the most ardent advocate of morality and other such ideals. "You would have us kill our own people?"
"Why not? It will help free Japan. Is there a problem?"
"Damn right there's a problem!" Ohgi answered, slamming a fist into the poor coffee table. "I am not letting you slaughter people. The ends don't justify the means."
Mao watched them silently as the others in the group nodded, signifying they agree with their leader's words. "That's…unfortunate. I wasn't planning on doing this a few more months, but it's really no bother to push up the schedule." He muttered, much to their bewilderment.
Thud! Bang! Thud!
Suddenly, the core members found themselves getting well acquainted with the floor as the agents in the room subdued them with ruthless efficiency. "I can't have you interfering in my plans, so until this is over, I'm placing all of you under arrest. Toodles!"
Unbeknownst to him, a pair of amber eyes watched the proceedings with a mirthful glint.
"This is ridiculous." murmured Lelouch in between his ragged pants. His legs endured the burning sensation as it carried him forward. "SHIT!" He swore loudly, ducking back into the corner, barely avoiding a burst of gunfire.
The situation had officially gone from bad to worse.
He was stuck here, pinned between two murderous parties without any weapons. It was times like this that he wished he had taken unarmed combat more seriously during Basic.
The sector was surprisingly bereft of true Britannian soldiers, probably because most of them had been killed by the wolves donning the same uniform. As far as he was concerned, everyone here was a hostile. Thankfully, visibility was low and getting even worse. The sporadic missile exploding overhead would temporarily illuminate the darkened streets, but otherwise, there were no sources of light. That would give Lelouch a chance to sneak away, even if it was a slim one.
Despite the situation, he couldn't help but feel a little amazed by the number of NAL troops hiding in the city. Was their security really that lax? He'd have to look into the matter…if he survived, that is.
Perhaps he could hide in one of the buildings…
Lelouch's ears perked up as the sound of an engine revving reached it. The NAL didn't have any vehicles, at least, none that he encountered so far. Tires screeched to a dead stop and machine guns unleashed a barrage that could've woken the dead. The street turned into a chaotic sprawl as the newcomers engaged the NAL and Britannians surged into the road to push back the infiltrators.
An Argyl, the 01 unit, charged into the fray, joining the frenzy with a hail of micro bullets. Faced with the mechanical monstrosity, the NAL had no choice but to run or die. The fighting stopped and the atmosphere returned to its eerie quietness.
A trio of soldiers ran up to the Prince, familiar armbands marking them as friendlies. "Your Highness!" They saluted once they recognized his face. "We came as soon as we could, sir. Major Gottwald has ordered us to bring you to the M-4 ASAP."
"We have secured His Highness." Another said into a radio. The soldier looked the Prince over, inspecting him, before speaking again. "No, he's unharmed."
"What the situation out there?" Lelouch asked, allowing himself to be led to the waiting armored vehicle nearby.
"It's pretty bad sir." The soldier answered with a grimace, reminded of something fairly unpleasant. "Infiltrators have succeeded in wiping out command. When we left, the Major was just beginning to reestablish order."
"Gottwald?" Lelouch's face turned into an appraising one. "Then who's piloting the Argyl?"
"Your Highness, that would be Sir Kururugi."
Another Argyl chose that instant to make an appearance. "Yamashina." snarled Lelouch, a viciousness in his tone that the men had never heard before.
"We should go, Your Highness. There's nothing we can do to help Sir Kururugi here." The soldier urged, worry apparent in his body language. The Prince stepped into the humvee, knowing the truth behind those words.
"Tell Kururugi to bring Yamashina in alive." He ordered, his expression an icy one.
Kallen let out a guttural howl as she struggled futilely to break loose of the handcuffs that were clamped around her wrists.
She had put up a fierce resistance against the agents, and it had earned her their attention and scorn. As a result, she was placed in a separate room, with her hands behind her and unable to move away from the pole which she had been chained to.
She was going to kill that traitor when she got out of here.
The soft pitter patter alerted her of a presence. Someone was approaching from behind! Her body tensed as she readied to lash out against the brave soul. While throwing her weight to the right, she lifted her feet, rotating her body 180 while sending flying kick towards the newcomer.
To her shock, her attack had been stopped deftly. Not by an agent even, but by Mao's girlfriend. "You!"
C.C. tilted her head, as if observing a curious specimen. "Me."
"What do you want?" Kallen spat out venomously.
"Something," C.C. began vaguely. "Unfortunately, I can't get it with Mao watching me like a hawk."
"So you want to be free from him as well?" Kallen inquired. "If you get me out of here, I'll do my best to help you out." She offered.
Honestly, Kallen didn't know how the girl would react. What she least expected though, was for her to smirk. "I can do better than that." was all C.C. said, before tapping her forehead lightly.
Kallen's eyes widened significantly. They were no longer in the room!
Images and scenes that had a life like quality to them flashed before her eyes in rapid succession. They seemed to be memories…although certainly it wasn't hers. "You wish to be free." C.C.'s voice boomed, yet its owner was nowhere to be found. "You want the power to save your comrades. I can grant you Geass – the Power of the King, if you promise to grant me one wish."
"Is this some sort of joke?" Kallen asked aloud, eyes narrowing as she tried to recall if she had been administered any hallucinogens. She had never experiences it herself, but the descriptions of an acid trip were strikingly similar to what she was going through right now. Perhaps that was it?
"This is no joke." The voice boomed. Damn. "Be warned, Geass will condemn you to a life of solitude, for those who wield must walk their path alone. But if you accept, you will gain the power to change the world."
The power to change the world? It was too good to be true…
"Do you accept my contract?"
She had barely uttered "Yes" when a red bird-like sigil glowed brightly, nearly blinding her, before enveloping her vision completely.
Kallen's sight returned and she found herself back in the room with nothing changed except, perhaps, for the infuriating smirk the green-haired witch wore. If anything, it grew even wider. "What the hell did you do to me?" She growled, reverting back to her acid trip theory.
"Why don't you see for yourself?" C.C. answered the question with a question.
It was only then that Kallen realized her hands were free. A glance below confirmed that her cuffs were on the floor.
She was about to celebrate her momentary freedom when the door opened, allowing two agents to step in with guns drawn.
In that instant, something clicked in Kallen.
The world around her seemed to be moving in slow motion. Oddly enough, she was moving just as slowly too. Her physical speed had not increased, but her mind was processing everything around her at a supersonic pace.
It was strangely mesmerizing to see bullets propelled towards her at such a rate, and while the slowing of time did not allow her to catch them – which would have been pretty bad ass – she was able to evade them with ease.
To the agents, she was reacting to their actions just as fast as or even before they could do them! Kallen was closing in too fast and too soon for their guns to be of much use any longer. The pair did the only sensible thing in their position – try to overwhelm the nimble girl at close quarters.
A well executed somersault placed the redhead between the two, hands already shifting to deflect the startled agents' oncoming punches before her feet had even met ground. In a feat worthy of a gymnast, her left foot shot straight up, slamming into a chin with incredible force and sending the attached body sprawling. Not wasting any time, Kallen swung her leg around to knockout the other, only to have the offending appendage grabbed.
The ace was not to be bested though and she used the opportunity to launch a barrel kick with her other foot even as her enemy unwittingly stabilized her. With the room now cleared, she stood up and dusted off her clothes.
C.C. followed her out of the room with a mischievous grin.
Yes…this new contractor would be an interesting one to watch.
Again and again, two humanoid robots clashed from opposite ends of the streets, neither refusing to give way to the other.
"You are a traitor to your own people, Kururugi!" Yamashina bellowed, thrusting the controller forward and sending a supercharged round towards his countryman.
"Perfidious scum!" roared Suzaku, agilely twisting to avoid the lethal shot before replying with one of his own. The round missed its mark, but ripped into a bulky knightmare behind it. "You don't know the meaning of honor!"
"Checkmate, Suzaku. We have you outnumbered." Kenji announced cockily as two more Bamides moved forward to replace the recently downed one.
"Numbers don't mean anything to me. You will lose this battle!"
And the 01 rushed towards its foes with reckless abandon, swinging its electrified rod around like a baton. The reinforced riot shield shrugged off the pitiful attacks of the twin Bamides, while the 03 had run out off ammo, just as Suzaku had.
"We'll see about that." Kenji said coolly, leading his compatriots onwards.
A second before the two prototypes met, Suzaku twisted his controls sharply, causing his machine to spin to the right and dodge the collision by a hair's breadth. His rail gun, carried forward by the momentum, lashed out against a Bamide and overloaded its mechanisms with a surgical strike to the chest.
Suzaku had taken Gottwald's lesson to heart.
His shield arm was moving on its own now, rising to block a potentially fatal, point blank artillery shell from the other Bamide. The fact that Suzaku's frame had suffered no real damage was a testament to the shield's durability. Nevertheless, a sizeable dent marred its surface for the force of the attack was nothing to laugh at.
Thankfully, Suzaku never let the knightmare get another chance as he drove his makeshift lance into its torso before discharging. With the unwelcome guests taken care of, he turned his attention back to Kenji, who had managed to stop his frame's incredible momentum a moment too late to intervene.
This fight would not be as easy as the last, Suzaku knew. While the NAL rebels were barely capable of operating the frames, the treacherous Honorary Britannian was formidable with his machine. Weeks of working together had given Suzaku a glimpse of his abilities, which was more than enough to make him take this seriously.
Kenji was an ace, after all, capable of going toe to toe with him any day. They wouldn't have been accepted into the Zero Squad otherwise, especially given their heritage.
"Colonel Tohdoh's time with you was wasted." Kenji remarked condescendingly. "You would turn your sword against a liberator of the motherland!"
Suzaku's blood boiled. Yamashina was going down! "At least I understand the meaning of Bushido. Any man who would rise against his Lord is not fit of the title samurai!"
The twin knightmares burst into life, keenly resembling the jousting knights of old. And then, it was over.
The Kallen Kozuki that Ohgi knew was a brash, impulsive teenage girl stricken with an insatiable need for vengeance against those who had cut down her brother at his prime. The Kallen Kozuki he knew was an ace pilot; young and untested but full of potential.
The Kallen Kozuki in front of him now - beating the living shit out of the trained agents assigned to them - was completely foreign to him.
She moved with such control and coordination he didn't even know existed. Every parry, blow and block seemed to be part of a larger plan, a piece of the puzzle. If Ohgi didn't know any better, he'd say she was a martial arts prodigy.
The problem was that he did know her. Quite well, in fact. She had never displayed this level of skill before.
Whatever had happened in the hour of isolation had inexplicably changed her. For better or worse, he could not tell.
"Why are you doing this C.C.?" asked Mao in a way only a heartbroken man could.
The witch gazed at her contractor behind a 500 Smith and Wesson Magnum revolver, the world's most powerful pistol. "It's time to end our contract." She explained calmly.
"But-but C.C.! We were supposed to be together forever!" Mao whined in a childish manner that annoyed the Code Bearer to no end.
C.C. regarded him with sad eyes. "I'm sorry Mao. I should have done this a long time ago."
For the first time in ages, Mao was at a lost. He had often relied on his Geass to get him the answers, or failing that, clue him in on the best way to proceed. But against his precious C.C., his telepathy would not work. He was never good with improvisation either...
C.C. pulled the trigger and the body slumped to the floor, surprised eyes locked in place.
"Present, Arms!"
Lelouch strode into the room, waving them off. "At ease." Violet orbs scanned the room, before landing on the object of interest. "Sir Gottwald, bring me up to date."
"Yes, Your Highness." Gottwald answered with a wide grin plastered on his face. "We've managed to hold the line in sector 4-3 for now. Our forces are consolidating there to reinforce the right flank. The other regiments are securing the left and center." A glance at the screens nearby revealed that the Britannian line cut through the city at an angle, with the 2nd Quebec acting as the tip of the spear.
"What of Altair?" asked Lelouch with a modicum of concern over his half brother and latest political ally. "Did he survive the purge?"
"He did, Your Highness, but not without injury I'm afraid."
Lelouch inspected the detailed diagrams with a critical eye. "You've done well here, Sir Gottwald."
"Thank you Your Highness!" exclaimed a kneeling Jeremiah. He was bubbling with joy at the unexpected praise.
"How very curious…" The Prince whispered, earning him a look from his Knight de facto. "Why did the 12th Imperial not intervene?"
Gottwald frowned, unsure how to answer. "They are sworn to Prince Orion, sir. Technically speaking, they are answerable only to the Emperor."
"There's something shady about this." Lelouch's demeanor morphed into a dark one. "And speak of the devil…" He commented, as a transmission request popped up in the screen. "Answer it for me."
If Jeremiah found the order odd, he showed no sign of it whether express or implied. "This is Major Gottwald of the 3rd Division. What can I do for you, Prince Orion?" He asked with feigned politeness.
"My regiment is in place to launch an attack on the EU at sector 9. I would appreciate it if you gave me authority over all forces stationed in the area." Orion said imperiously. His inflection suggested it was anything but a request.
Before the major could answer, the transmission was cut off. "How rude…" Lelouch noted with quirked lips. "Belay that order, Sir Gottwald."
"Sir?"
"Prince Orion does not have the right to seize command from another royal; neither does his rank warrant such an action." The teen explained patiently. "As far as we're concerned, he is overstepping his bounds."
"But Prince Orion will storm the enemy lines regardless." pointed out Jeremiah. "His forces will be decimated without support."
Lelouch inclined his head to the side, a stoic expression crossing his face. "I'm just repaying the favor." He said so coldly that one could not find a hint of remorse in it.
The hair on Jeremiah's back tingled and he suppressed a shudder at the heartless way the statement was delivered. He had never seen this side of the Prince before...then again, he hadn't been with Lelouch for that long.
"His forces are making plenty of headway." Gottwald noticed, the blue blips signifying the 12th regiment moving further and further into the mass of red dots.
"It won't last for long." Lelouch dismissed, sounding very assured. True to his word, three hours later, the map had changed radically. The increasingly stiff resistance of the EU had finally put a halt to the advance, while even more elements overwhelmed its flanks and cut off their only retreat.
"Cut off all communications." Lelouch ordered. That ensured they would be unable to receive any distress calls. "Pay attention closely, Sir Gottwald. Notice how the enemy meticulously cuts off each part of the whole. If Orion had any wits to him, he would stop his suicidal assault. Unfortunately…" More blue dots disappeared at an increasingly alarming rate.
"Sir…Prince Orion is dead." One of the men reported solemnly.
Lelouch leaned into his chair, the calm never leaving his features. He seemed unconcerned…no, relieved even.
"All preliminary conditions have been cleared." Jeremiah heard him say under his breath. "I hope this display has left you with some insights to how the enemy fights. The next time you see it, it'll be our turn to face them."
November 25, 2017 (Z Day + 56)
A grim faced veteran picked his way through the street's burning wreckage cautiously.
"Relax sarge." He heard his inexperienced squad mate say. "We've got those Britannians on the run." The words were uttered with a cockiness that came only with youthful ignorance.
"What you really need to do is relax a little. Have I told you about this chick I met the other day? She was a wild one. Why-" His boisterous recount of his recent sexual exploits were cut off as a piece of metal lodged itself into his throat, leaving him incapable of any sound but garbled screams. The boy, barely 18, died choking from his own blood.
"Get down!" cried out the war-worn man as sniper fire erupted all around them, whittling away the group with terrifying accuracy.
It was just his luck that the car his men had conveniently hid behind chose that moment to explode, littering the area with accelerated shrapnel.
The universe had a peculiar way of telling them to fuck off.
"Where's our Goddamn support?" screamed their corporal just before he became a human pincushion for bullets.
An APC chose that moment to roll down the street, as if answering the dead man's request. The sergeant let out a sigh of relief. The vehicle would provide them a modicum of cover as they recovered from the –
BOOM!
Damn it, the sergeant thought, as he watched a rocket shred their hopes.
It was Stalingrad all over again.
Rommel was usually confident of victory…until now that is.
The still unexplained temporary chaos that had wrecked the Britannian lines had allowed his troops to secure several key objectives. Specifically, they had finally managed to cripple the already fledgling KMF units attached to the 3rd Division. Estimates suggested there were less than five battle ready Sutherlands in the entire city, nowhere near enough to stem the veritable onslaught of Gardemares and Panzer-Hummels.
The only thing they did have were tanks, but even those were horribly inadequate for city fighting against the superior mobility of the humanoid machines.
It was to his surprise, therefore, when he received word that a lance of Gardemares were wiped out without inflicting a single casualty. A quarter of a hundred knightmares was a powerful force in its own right, even without considering the infantry and armor supporting them.
The Britannians had lured them into striking range of their offshore battleships.
Suddenly, the dreaded feeling he had two days ago returned with frightening intensity. The mysterious tactician was back..and in charge of the entire city now, it seemed.
This was going to be a bloody affair. He just knew it.
November 27, 2017 (Z Day + 58)
20:00 (UTC + 1:00)
"This is hopeless." moaned an unusually distraught Lieutenant Tiberius Hopkins of the 88th Armored Regiment. "We don't have enough KMFs to hold the city. Why doesn't he just call for a withdrawal?"
The recently promoted Captain Simon Haywood spared his colleague an irked glance, before returning to his work. Alan Wood - who was sporting his own newly stitched insignia - was far more accommodating. "You should have more faith in the Major." He chided. "He isn't as reliant on knightmares as other commands are. Surely our time under him has at least left you with that knowledge."
"Well…yeah…" conceded Hopkins, "but still. What chance do tanks have against Gardemares in an urban warzone?"
"Technically none." The three turned on instinct and snapped a hasty salute. It was a voice they had become well acquainted with in their brief tour of duty.
Behind them was Major Lelouch vi Britannia, acting commander of 3rd Division. It was strange to see the Prince so near the front alone and without an escort, either in the form of his special squad or Wolfe's men. A cheeky smirk persuaded them that he was up to something ingenious, no doubt. "Then again, I don't plan to play by the rules. Perhaps a demonstration is in order?"
The officers nodded without a peep, rendered mute by his mere presence.
"Observe the Gardemares moving along the south. Do you know why they chose that road?"
"Because their afraid of the battleships sir." answered Hopkins immediately. By now, everyone had heard of how a lance of the fierce weapons were utterly decimated by a well directed salvo from the floating artillery platforms.
"They'll soon find that the battleships was the better option to face. Our latest toys have just arrived. The shoulder-mounted, anti-knightmare device operated with nitradite." Lelouch informed them with childish glee.
Without any audible warning, the lead Gardemare was suddenly torn apart by a violent burst of energy.
"We're calling it the SMAKDOWN."
November 29, 2017
"This is Sancia."
"Yes both targets have been secured."
"Dalque is injured."
"It was hardly our fault sir! The JLF engaged and we had no choice. Their commander's going on a genocidal rampage!"
"Understood…we will transport the Princess immediately."