AN: Here ya go. Enjoy!

Arc III: The Positional Game
Part 2: Imbalance

"Imbalance: In chess, a difference between positions of the white and black pieces. An imbalanced position is one where White and Black both have unique advantages and chance to win by using those advantages." –Great Games of the 21st Century, Glossary of Terms

"Vi Britannia's a bloody genius – don't let anyone tell you otherwise. The man wasn't just the first commander of the Air Fleet, he wrote the entire playbook too. There's not a single, Britannian military academy out there that doesn't teach his strategies today." – General Andreas Darlton

December 24, 2017 (T - 03:15)
Tokyo Settlement, Area 11

Ohgi inhaled, taking in the cool, crisp evening air of Tokyo. He stared wistfully at the crescent that hung in the sky, casting the city in a faint glow. "Did you know I was a schoolteacher before this?" He said, out of the blue, catching his red-haired companion off guard.

"What brought this on?" She asked after a while, body noticeably tenser than her leader.

"Just reminiscing, I guess." answered Ohgi, shrugging nonchalantly. He spared his watch a glance and saw that the longhand was approaching 9 soon. "Three minutes," he spoke into his radio. He waited for a series of affirmatives to reach him, before letting it drop to his side. Ohgi turned around to check on his own team. "Amazing how something as simple as a name could have such effects on recruitment."

Kallen inspected her newly refurbished and customized Glasgow, parts courtesy of the JLF. Two kanji symbols were inscribed on the chest. "Jiyu…" she read aloud to herself.

It meant Freedom.

They had, up to this point, simply been known as the Shinjuku Resistance to most and the Naoto Kozuki Cell by the select few aware of their operational history. Neither name fit them anymore after the massive changes their group had undergone.

Several of the resistance cells in Tokyo had been left exhausted or depleted after demanding missions like the attempted assassination on the Viceroy, the multiple raids on Britannian armories and the pseudo civil war they waged with "rogue" elements in the Chinese Special Forces under that Mao fellow.

The Shinjuku resistance, time and again, proved they were the most effective by suffering the least amount of casualties yet still remaining decisive in every key engagement to date. It came as no surprise that the JLF leadership decided to gather up the remnants of their irregular units in Tokyo and stick them with the most successful one. Some were adverse to the idea, of course, but after some "persuasion", they came through.

This massive boost in personnel and area of operations made their de facto name a misnomer, hence the rebranding. Jiyu was eventually chosen as their designation. It appeared that whoever thought up the name was a genius, because that alone caused recruitment to surge with men and women joining their ranks by the hundreds each day.

A private com link popped up in her screen, interrupting her thoughts. "Captain Kozuki," Ohgi addressed her with a teasing tone. Unfortunately, being supplied by the JLF also meant they had to establish some form of decorum, prompting the need for military ranks. Kallen winced at her title; it felt unfamiliar, stiff and formal – basically, what being a Britannian noble felt like. "once we're done disabling this base, your squad is to wait here for a JLF officer." Ohgi said.

"Who?" asked Kallen; curiosity peaked by the vague orders.

"I wasn't told, just that he would be unmistakable." Ohgi answered, shaking his head. "Colonel Tohdoh himself stressed the importance of this man to the resistance."

"Understood." Kallen smiled, brimming with pride at the importance of her mission and the trust being placed in her. It was a far cry from the babying attitude the core members used to exhibit.

"Stay safe out there, Kallen."

"Same to you, Ohgi." The red Glasgow's landspinners activated, accelerating the humanoid robot forward. "Dragon group, on me!" Without any further prompting, a triad of Burais, pitch black in color, trailed behind her in a single line. Dozens of men armed with a mishmash of weaponry followed after them, riding in whatever vehicle they could get their hands on.

In the distance, a Britannian flag fluttered in the wind.

T - 10:00
Viceroy's Palace, Area 11

Rhythmic vibrations in his left pocket alerted Lelouch that his phone had received a text. With an affable smile, he excused himself from the group of nobles gathered around, downing his champagne as he walked away.

We need to talk. The message said. I will be in Area 11 within the month.

The prince didn't need to look at the number to know who it was from. About? Replying was more of a formality really. If Lelouch had to guess what the 2nd Prince wanted to talk about, it would probably be his deception regarding Nunnally.

Things. Lelouch frowned at the vague response. It was unlike his brother's direct, no bullshit approach.

"Lelouch," a gloved hand snatched his phone away that instant, "stop being antisocial. It's unbecoming of your rank."

Lelouch raised his brow at Clovis's disapproving frown. "My apologies, Viceroy, just taking care of some urgent business from the homeland. It won't happen again." He extended a hand to his brother, silently asking for his property back.

"Make sure of it." Clovis answered, grudgingly handing him the offending device. "Now go and mingle." Ever the host, Clovis had once again smoothly integrated himself into a group and was at ease speaking with the various nobles and dignitaries.

"Your brother is incredibly demanding of you."

Lelouch shrugged. "He's an exceptional host. I just wish he didn't hold me up to same standard. Any news, Eric?"

"Reuben Ashford just arrived, but the blond girl you mentioned wasn't with him." His captain said, sighing. "What a shame…"

"The ladies here not enough for you?"

"The more the merrier." retorted Maximillan, as he dragged his liege to an eagerly awaiting group of women.

T – 0:05
Livingstone Base, Area 11

"It sucks having to work on Christmas." muttered the disgruntled Knightmare pilot as he patrolled the base perimeter in his standard issue Sutherland. "It's not as if anyone's going to-"

A red claw came at his unit out of nowhere, decapitating his Sutherland in one swift blow. Deprived of the vision granted by the factsphere cameras installed in the Sutherland's eyes, the pilot mounted a desperately, but ultimately futile, defense. "Base, this is Anders! I am under attack! Base, do you read me!?"

Fuck this. Anders thought as he pulled his ejection lever, propelling the cockpit out of the frame's chest, just in time to see the red devil impaling it. A second too late and he would have been dead, the pilot realized grimly.

Without warning, three metal spikes pierced through the walls even as he felt his direction reverse.

"I-i-impossible!"

It was happening, nonetheless. The slash haarken bit into the cockpit like an alligator refusing to let its prey escape. A deft swipe slammed the pod into the earth below, neutralizing the occupant.

"Perimeter guards eliminated. Ready the EMP."

At 9:58 PM, an entire Knightmare Brigade stationed in Harrington Base was disabled.

At 9:59 PM, the Battle of Tokyo began.

T + 5:00
Wellington Base

Sakuradite, Tamaki decided, was both wonderful and dangerous.

Wonderful as a source of nearly limitless energy, its discovery had, literally overnight, solved the energy crisis and global warming as entire industries were quick to shift to sakuradite generated electricity. Unfortunately, for all the problems that the miracle element solved, it did not usher in some golden age or make the world into a utopia. It just gave scientists, previously occupied with these pressing concerns, a considerable amount of free time on their hands, which they used to make stuff for the military to use.

Dangerous as a source of nearly limitless energy meant it was also a fuel – a potent and unstable one that was unsurpassed in terms of destructive capabilities. This was something Tamaki would soon witness firsthand.

Dispatching the few disgruntled souls left to man the fort during Christmas, probably as punishment for pissing off someone in the upper echelons of the military, was a painfully easy task. Most of them were fresh recruits and reserves, some who had never even fought before. It didn't take long for the charges to be set.

"Come in, Tamaki. Have you finished your objective?"

"Ready to blow this place sky high." Tamaki answered, fingers softly tapping the detonate button in morbid anticipation.

"Do it."

T + 5:00
Viceroy's Palace

In the distance, one could see the city illuminated by orange lights. Red circle on white flags rose in the air.

A woman dressed in a garish gown, the prevalent fashion trend for inept nobles it seemed, clapped excitedly at the sight, eliciting curiosity from those around her. "Oh lovely, fireworks!" She squealed, utterly delighted and obviously oblivious.

Lelouch smacked his forehead at the stupidity of said woman. She was the wife of a baron if he recalled correctly, and for good reason too. With a mind like that, it was probably for the best if she never attained a higher station in life.

"Is something the matter, Ruben?" Lelouch prompted after noting that his longtime ally was unusually pale.

"The Academy! Milly had some sort of shenanigan planned for tonight. Most of the students are still there!" Ruben blurted out, panicked. "And we haven't moved the Templar prototype yet!"

The prince's eyes widened as the implication of the words hit him. If there was still military R&D tech there, it would become a potential target for whoever the hell just blew up Tokyo's sakuradite stores. "Out of my way!" He barked at the startled nobles, taken aback by the normally charming prince's uncharacteristic brashness.

Eric, not far behind him, pulled out his mobile phone. "Orders?"

"Tell Wolfe to meet us at the West Entrance with our frames."

With a longing look backwards, Eric reluctantly left the comforts of the Palace. "Still beats being at the front with Kururugi…" he mused, trying to look on the bright side of things.

T + 8:23
Livingstone Base

"Captain Kozuki, unidentified frame approaching from the north. Looks like a custom Burai. Should we engage?" The sentry's words buzzed through the radio.

"Let it through." Kallen answered, glancing at the energy filler of her Glasgow. "Dragon group, recharge and rearm."

"Are we expecting heavy resistance for phase two, Captain?" Akari, her wingman and second-in-command, asked.

Kallen eyed the rapidly approaching JLF knightmare critically. "It's a possibility. Best be prepared." She was able to say, before the face of a graying, portly elder sporting a military cut appeared on her screen. The most distinct feature about him, however, was the sheathed blade strapped to his back, the grip of the katana visible to the red-haired knightmare prodigy. Only a handful of people continued to wield such antiquated weapons and from the looks of it, only one name could fit the description of the man before Kallen.

Ryoga Senba, the oldest and wisest of Kyoshiro Tohdoh's legendary knightmare squad, the Four Holy Swords.

"Most people would say the Glasgow is an outdated model, Captain."

"They'd say the same for the katana, yet here we are."

Senba chuckled lightly at the quick rebuttal. "That only shows what people know, eh?" Demeanor becoming serious, he continued. "Before our infiltrator in the Prince's Zero Squad was caught, he managed to send us some vital information regarding the schematics of Ashford Academy's underground and the frames being developed there."

Blood turned to ice. Milly's Ashford Christmas Party was tonight. There would undoubtedly be students still on the grounds. If she went through with this…some would end up injured.

Some would end up dead.

She might not love her classmates, hell she found them to be downright pests at times, but that didn't mean she hated them and that didn't mean she was ready to kill them. Befriending them, even if part of her cover, left her with traces of sentimentality.

"Our target will be their latest sixth generation, close quarter combat knightmare, the Templar." continued Senba, unaware of her dilemma. "The capture or destruction of this frame is of paramount importance in order to maintain even a semblance of technological parity on the field. I cannot stress the importance of our mission in the plan to liberate Japan."

"Understood, sir." Kallen answered half-heartedly, her internal turmoil growing with his every word.

True to the ideals of Bushido, the samurai was cut from a noble sort. "Given the nature of the site, some civilians might get caught up in the crossfire. We want to avoid his as much as possible. Our enemy is the Empire, not those under its yoke."

"Understood, sir!" Kallen answered, more assured that the last. The dread that had been growing unchecked like a malicious tumor in her chest subsided mostly, though it lingered still.

"Let's move, Captain."

As the initial shock wore off, the Britannian troops were quick to rally around the remaining key installations in the city, chief among which was the administrative center known as the Viceroy's Palace. Heading the defense in what was arguably the most crucial location in the entirety of Area 11 was Earl Kewell Soresi, still adorning the fine clothes he had worn to the Christmas Ball. So urgent was the task at hand that he had broken into a dead run from the Grant Ballroom to the Knightmare Hanger. He wasn't the only one to do so too. The Purists, the majority which were attending, had reacted the same way, which explained how they were able to so quickly raise three lances of 25 knightmares each for the Viceroy.

"Lt. Col. Soresi," Kewell grinned at the address, taking immense pride in the fact that he was the first person the Eleventh Prince, bestowed carte blanche authority over the military, had deemed worthy of a promotion, "we've scoured the palace as you ordered. Three people are missing. Prince vi Britannia, his royal guardsman and his guest, Ruben Ashford. The Viceroy is most concerned about his brother."

Just like that, the smile disappeared. "Do we have any leads?"

"Not at the moment. We have the entire Knight Police Department on the lookout, but with the battle going on in the city, they're effectiveness is severely limited."

"Useless parasites," muttered the Australian noble angrily. "I'm leading two squads into the city to look for the prince. Baroness Nu will be in command until I return. Aston Squad, Stark Squad, on me!"

"Copy that, sir."

"Roger, Earl Soresi."

The dozen knightmares followed after Kewell in a loose formation, traversing the streets of Tokyo at dangerous speeds. "Look alive, people. Enemies could be just around the corner."

Fate decided to humor him today, for a hail of rockets welcomed them warmly the moment they turned the next corner.

Reacting purely on instinct, Kewell sent his mecha on a dizzying, yet controlled, pattern of twists and twirls to avoid the projectiles from scoring a direct hit. Ultimately, the lack of space to maneuver meant that someone had to take the brunt of the missiles. This fact validated itself when Kewell heard a chain of explosions erupt behind him, the blue dots on his IFF screen blinking out one by one.

Clearing the last RPG with a graceful spin, Soresi returned fire with his twin T7-19 anti-infantry rifles, sending the partisans scrambling for cover. Behind him, the survivors followed suit, adding to the torrent of bullets suppressing the rebel infantrymen. The sheer firepower ensured they were cut down within seconds.

His torso rotated left and right, sweeping the area for any more hostiles. Safety relatively assured, he left go of the breath he was holding in. "Who did we lose?"

"Summers and Jackson from Aston squad, Cyrus, Steele and Captain Jones from Stark squad," the captain of Aston reported, voice heavy and grim.

Kewell cursed internally. That was a third of his men gone within ten minutes of the op. No sane commander could accept such a horrendous attrition rate. "Should we pull back to the Palace, sir?" This gave him pause. While it was true that the losses had been bad, retreat was a concept altogether distasteful to any true Britannian noble. It was a show of weakness and an acceptance of defeat.

"Of course not!" Kewell answered vehemently, "we'll just approach with more caution from now on. Do we have any support available from the nearby bases?" Having an all knightmare force, while impressive for rapid assaults, simply wasn't viable when the enemy was prepared for them. Tacking this threat required a more diverse set of assets.

"Negative, sir. Most of the surrounding bases are under attack. We're on our own for the time being."

"Fuckin' amazing." Kewell muttered sardonically, reloading his guns with fresh magazines in preparation for the battles that were just waiting to happen. Seconds passed where the group of giant mechs just stood around, doing occasional sweeps of their perimeter as they waited for further orders. Finally, Kewell reached a decision. "Bring us coordinates to the closest military base. We'll drive the rebels from there and nab some support units once we're done."

The Prince would have to hold out a while longer without them. Knowing him though, it wouldn't be a problem.

Resting his chin on steeped fingers, Lelouch's sharp eyes analyzed the monitor showing the current situation and derived two crucial facts. First, Britannian casualties at the beginning of the fight had been insanely high, but that number dropped quickly within minutes of the battle. Second, the attack was not widespread, as he had believed in the beginning, but rather concentrated in select locations across the board. Putting the two together gave Lelouch the basis he needed to make several conclusions.

The enemy, likely the JLF, was present only in small numbers. Casualties at the start could be attributed liberal use of explosives coupled with total surprise. This brought up questions about the competence of the local garrison, and Lelouch made a note to have the commander sacked for being caught completely unaware. A majority of their soldiers were being assembled on the walls and bridges leading into the elevated position of the settlement, which, while SOP in scenarios like this, was a mistake. The JLF wasn't trying to take the capital. They didn't have enough manpower to keep even a semblance of order even discounting the immense military presence.

No, this was a diversion. That was obvious enough. The million dollar question was: "a diversion for what?"

"Lelouch," the sound of his name was enough to break his deep pondering, "I've sent out orders to all nearby military and knight police units to rendezvous at the Academy." Eric informed him. "ETA of the closest groups will be in two minutes. Standing orders are to lock down the perimeter and keep it in our control."

Lelouch nodded approvingly. "Has Ruben started the evacuation procedures for the students?"

Eric grimaced, a bad sign to be sure. "There was no time for them to safely leave the grounds, so we redirected them to the underground complex."

"It's a good thing we're about to move all operations out of the school then." Lelouch sighed from inside his military-issued Gloucester, courtesy of Clovis' incessant nagging that they an image to uphold. Still, the artistically inclined prince footed the bill so Lelouch wasn't about to complaint. "It wouldn't do to have upwards of a few hundred hormonal teenagers aware of a secret royal installation. Good work, Eric. Keep me posted."

He heard a "Yes, sir" before that part of the monitor faded away, replaced by updates on the ground being broadcasted by a newscaster from HiTV, despite the risk of being hit by any number of stray armaments. This Diethard Ried would make a fine soldier if he ever chose to walk down that road, if only for his sheer balls.

"ETA in five minutes!" Eric shouted over a general line that linked all their entire convoy, which consisted of five Hummer H3s, again thanks to Clovis, escorting a single ALT or the Atlas Knightmare Land Transport. Lelouch only had a quarter of Wolfe' company in Tokyo - the rest awaiting their return in the north in preparation for the Hokkaido Campaign – trusting that the vast military presence in the settlement would make them largely unnecessary.

It was a mistake he was now forced to work around.

The Academy's main gate was now within view as nostalgia hit Lelouch with enough force to best a tsunami. This place was his home for close to seven years. In many ways, it still was. He spent the best years of his life here. Those were happier days…simpler days.

Lelouch shook himself out of his reverie, readying to defend the school which elicited fond memories so easily it was as good as refrain, the illegal and highly addictive psychotropic known for invoking pleasant memories in its victims. Four knight police Glasgows rolled into view, wielding their already drawn tactical shields and stun batons.

The commander of the group, a balding police sergeant that went by the name Miller, was quick to hail Lelouch on the intercom. "Your Highness, it's good to see that you have arrived safely. We weren't expecting you to make it so quickly." Both shock and awe could be detected in his voice.

Lelouch offered him a lopsided grin that betrayed no hint of their peril. "Thank you, Sergeant Miller. We were lucky to find a path of minimal resistance." Not that they had a choice. Enemy frames would have torn apart their escort in a matter of seconds. It had taken meticulous planning to ensure there were no incidents en route. "What's the status of our evacuation?"

"All students on campus have been sent underground, as per the superintendent's orders. Forgive me for asking, Your Highness, but are we really expecting an attack?" The man's skepticism wasn't unwarranted. For all he knew, this was just another academy.

"There's a possibility that whoever is behind these attacks will attempt to capture the knightmare prototype stashed here." Lelouch said, his tone accurately conveying the urgency of their mission. "It is imperative that they be denied use of such technology."

By now, his guards, armed with their standard issue rifles, had taken up defensive positions throughout the grounds. Five stood near the feet of Lelouch's Gloucester, awaiting his disembarkation. Lelouch quickly did so, handing his knightmare's keys to one of the men.

"This way." Ruben gestured, leading the way to the Templar frame.

"We need to talk, dear."

Emperor Charles zi Britannia pried his eyes away from the breathtaking scenery being atop a floating structure afforded him to take in the svelte figure of his "late" empress. "We should spend more time here. That way, I can look at you without feeling like a pedophile."

Marianne vi Britannia snorted, hand on her hip and eyes rolling.

"If the two of you are quite done being lovey dovey," a blonde boy who looked no older than ten interrupted, "perhaps we can get to business." Despite his short stature, his voice betrayed the years of wisdom he possessed.

"Always so straight to the point V.V.." Charles chuckled mirthfully. "Business before pleasure then, brother."

The elder zi Britannia stared down at his brother with great difficulty - mostly because Charles was a giant compared to him – not sharing his brand of humor. "Since our last meeting, the Order has managed to assassinate two rogue Geass users. The thought elevator in Antarctica, which was damaged due to a particularly fierce blizzard, has finished repairs."

Seeing V.V. had spoken his piece, Charles delivered his report next. "The Empire has yet to secure the remaining five thought elevators. However, we are inching closer to the one in the Middle East and Africa. During the last war with the EU, we managed to sneak in OSI agents into these two locations, as well as the one in Russia, to safeguard it in the meantime."

V.V. glanced at his brother with his no-nonsense eyes. "These delays of yours are becoming a nuisance, Charles."

The Emperor waved away his concerns. "Don't worry. They will be taken in time for the Ragnarok Connection. Marianne, any news on C.C.?"

"She's in Area 11, hiding with the local resistance there." The Empress answered. "C.C. is taking particular delight in watching her new contractor struggle against our son."

"How is her contractor faring?" Charles asked, vaguely interested in Lelouch's exploits.

Marianne frowned. "Winning, but barely."

"Is that so?" Charles sounded, surprised. It was no secret that his son was an excellent strategist and a pilot of considerable skill. He was enough of a threat that the Emperor had had Nunnally returned to Britannia just to keep him in check. To beat him, even with Geass, would mean a rather talented individual.

"Yes…C.C.'s latest habit is expressing, in detail, how this Kallen is tearing apart Lelouch's new toy." A scowling Marianne crossed her arms. "Otherwise, she's fine."

"Will this 'Kallen' be a threat?" V.V. inquired, mind already calculating how to eliminate the person in question.

"No, she's gifted as a pilot, but her capability as a commander leaves plenty to be desired."

V.V. nodded in understanding. "If that is all, I'll take my leave now. The Order is about to commence a critical operation and will require my oversight."

That left Emperor and Empress alone in the extra dimensional, hovering temple known as the Sword of Akasha. "Shouldn't you be going soon?" Charles asked with raised brow.

"There's one more thing we need to discuss. I find the protection for Nunnally…inadequate."

"I suppose you want me to assign your host as her temporary guard then?" She didn't need to answer. Years of dealing with women had given Charles incredible insight on how they worked, although it would be a stretch to say he understood them perfectly. "Might as well. Weinberg and Alstreim have been sitting pretty in the capital for quite a while now."

"I better go before Anya wakes up then." Marianne said, eyes flashing with the red crane. Her human host awaited.

The Misawa Airbase was the only one of its kind in northern Honshu, affording it vast strategic importance to the Britannian military. The very existence of this installation had, so far, ensured no invasions coming from the north could ever succeed. It was also one of the largest bases in all of Area 11, and for this reason, was chosen as the staging ground for the Hokkaido campaign.

That was until an hour ago.

"Recalled back to Tokyo? For what?" Suzaku asked, bewildered. "Don't tell me the expedition's been cancelled!"

"Postponed is more like it." Colonel Madd replied. "This came straight from the Viceroy's Office. All units that can be spared are to make haste for the capital and the Zero Squad falls under that category."

"With all due respect, Colonel, the Zero Squad is under the personal jurisdiction of Prince Lelouch. We listen to him and him alone."

"Well his last command to you was to listen to my orders, and I am ordering your squad back to Tokyo."

"The Britannians managed to beat us here." Senba stated calmly, unperturbed that they would now have to go through a numerically superior force to accomplish their objectives. "The four police frames will be easy to deal with. It's those Gloucesters that have me concerned."

It took Kallen one look at the lance wielding knightmares to know why. Pitch black cloaks, disrupted only by a gold zigzag streaking through them, billowed behind the frames, giving them a menacing appearance. The mark was unmistakably that of the Eleventh Prince's royal guard which could only mean he, of all people, was here.

"I will keep the two Gloucesters busy." Senba announced, allowing no room for dissent from Kallen. The rotating chainsaw blade of the aging man's Burai Rai spun to life with a dangerous whir. In response, one of the Gloucesters raised its armor piercing lance in the air, as if to rally the troops in a glorious charge.

For a moment, a fleeting instance, both sides remained perfectly still, akin to statues of metal. Then it began with both sides charging each other. The Burai Rai, far superior to its predecessor (the Burai) and the Burai's predecessor (the Glasgow) outpaced them within seconds, surging forward to meet the enemy like a lone samurai. No fear, no hesitation, only an eager soul seeking the glory of combat.

From the ranks of the defenders came the two Gloucesters draped in royal cloaks, ready to bring honor to their liege lord. To an observer, the scene could have been taken straight out of a medieval battle. Two sides charging into each other, a moment of order before absolute chaos overtook the field as frames weaved expertly around each other, seeking to lock blades with a worthy adversary.

For a moment, the tides of war seemed even. The Britannians held superior frames and equipment, but the Japanese more than made up for this with zeal and ability.

There was one thing the Britannians failed to account for, however, which was the skill of the red Glasgow's pilot. In mere seconds, she had damaged her lone opponent's machine to such an extent that the devicer was forced to eject, his frame falling to pieces.

"Switch!" She called out, moving assist Senba by charging at the Gloucesters from the right, splitting their attention. That exact moment, Senba disengaged, executing a quick spin towards Kallen and bypassing the royal guard altogether. The initial attempt to pursue was cut off with Kallen using her knightmare to strategically block them off, buying her commander precious seconds; seconds which he used to cut down the police frames caught off guard by the sudden development.

To their credit, the royal guard recovered quickly, not allowing the abrupt reversal to dishearten them. They went back to back, staring down the five frames circling around them like sharks smelling blood.

Flashes of gunfire erupted within the halls of the academy, briefly illuminating its surroundings, as the foot soldiers struggled for dominance against each other. Here, at the very least, the military had the upper hand. Try as the rebels could, they were quite simply outgunned. In a gunfight, the side that wins is the one with one more bullet left.

Unnoticed in the distance was the green haired witch leaning against the trunk of a tree, watching the scene unfold with her piercing, golden eyes. "Looks like your son's about to join the fray." She said, though there was no one physically near enough to hear her.

A segment of ground opened up, unveiling the metal layer underneath the grass and soil. From the gap arose a metal titan. Oblivious to the threat that had been unleashed; the rebels continued their attempts to find an opening in the defense.

Lelouch thrust the Templar's sleek, streamlined frame forward, managing to close the distance with the nearest Burai at a speed unsurpassed by any except the Lancelot. His sword, a near twin of Senba's, found itself cutting through the unfortunate black robot's torso, a sheen of red coating it after.

One down, Lelouch thought.

The royal guard, seeing the break in their encirclement, seized the opportunity to break out and regroup. One of the Burais tried to stop them, and was rewarded with the full force of a lance charge that sent two tons of a special alloy through its chest.

"Keep the Gloucesters off of me." Senba instructed, brandishing his sword. "I will deal with the prototype frame."

Not one to shy away from a challenge, Lelouch met him head on, sending the Gloucesters to guard his flanks. Like two samurai of old, prince and swordsman engaged in a breathtaking dance of steel where a single misstep would result in an honorable death. Blades locked against each other, both sides struggled to push the other off balance.

Senba opened up a line to his enemy. "You fight well for a Britannian."

"Thanks." Lelouch answered, smirking. "I was never as good as Suzaku Kururugi, but I picked up a few things from Master Tohdoh!" The last part was shouted, as the Templar spun to the left abruptly. The combined shock from the maneuver and the knowledge that his adversary was a student of Tohdoh was enough to send the Burai Rai tumbling forward from its misplaced weight.

Back now turned to Lelouch, Senba realized the danger he was in and twirled around using his momentum to counter the finishing blow he sensed was coming.

Only, the coming strike was not aimed at his center, as he anticipated, but at his right shoulder. Lelouch had expected his opponent to react this way, and switched the rotating chain sword to his left hand before amputating the Burai Rai's undefended sword arm with a clean swipe. "This round belongs to me, Ryoga of the Holy Swords."

"I am honored that a prince knows of this old one's name." Senba said with a gracious bow, backpedaling quickly out of Lelouch's range.

Content to let him distance himself, Lelouch followed at a slower pace, confident now that his enemy was without an arm and a sword. "If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles." quoted Lelouch.

It was only pure instinct that saved Lelouch from the coming blow. Sensing something was amiss, he did a reverse, only to see the red Glasgow rushing at him with the Senba's blade. A quick glance revealed a Gloucester missing two arms and a leg lying on the ground, confirming his fears. At a disadvantage, Lelouch tried to move further back, only to find his knightmare latched in place by the Burai Rai's slash haarkens. With his mobility stolen, the Templar had no choice but to raise its sword to a guard position and weather the oncoming storm.

Lelouch was an excellent pilot, but Kallen was operating on an entirely different level.

Right eye glowing with a dangerous red, there was simply no way Lelouch could fool Kallen with his feints and traps. The red assault began with a controlled blast from the handgun straight to the head, blinding - though not damaging - the knightmare for a quarter of a second. This would normally not be enough time to exploit, but Kallen, empowered by her Geass, could maximize the small window for all it was worth. The chest-mounted slash haarkens latched onto an arm each, and the Glasgow's landspinners reversed sharply for a second, before moving straight forward again.

The action dragged the Templar's top closer, leaving it poorly positioned and lacking space for it to utilize its sword once the Glasgow was inside its guard. The rest, as they say, is history and Lelouch ejected from the frame before he shared in its fate.

"Well done, Captain." Senba praised, "Dragon Group, pull back now."

"But sir!" she protested, "The prince is defenseless. We should eliminate him or take him prisoner."

"No Captain. Our public image has been damaged badly already, and to kill him now would only validate his claims that we had him marked for assassination. We would lose the support of the people." At least, that is what Colonel Tohdoh had said. "As for taking him with us, we would never make it out of the city with such a high value hostage. Our mission here is complete."

Grudgingly, Kallen followed the survivors in their hasty retreat.

A pair of violet eyes watched her Glasgow's retreating form with curiosity, not anger, despite its owner's defeat. "Lelouch, Sir Kewell has arrived with backup. Should we go after the rebels?" Eric asked, Gloucester already shielding the prince's ejection pod from possible attack.

"Don't bother." Lelouch said offhandedly, thoughts pulling him in deep.

St. Elizabeth's Cathedral, Pendragon

Colored glass, religious murals, a giant cross and a high domed ceiling were what defined the Pendragon Royal Cathedral. Styled after the St. Peter's Basilica in Rome, the St. Elizabeth's Cathedral was the home and center of the Church of Britannia. The COB, offspring of the Anglo-Saxon Protestant Church, was granted the land upon which the Cathedral was built by Ricardo von Britannia, in thanks for recovering and escorting the remains of Elizabeth III to Pendragon. Since then, it has been the closest thing to a state religion for the Holy Britannia Empire.

While still held in high regard by the masses today, the Patriarch of the Church and his Templars - the cathedral's ceremonial guards, not the knightmare prototype of the same name – had no real power and were little better than puppets of the Imperial Throne.

Among the Patriarch's few duties of any real significance was the burial of members of the Royal Family; a tradition which was being observed today.

Strikingly empty of living souls, the cathedral accepted the corpse of Orion rui Britannia into its inner sanctum. The Patriarch said a few words in his honor, though they were of no comfort to the two identical boys with him.

"Thank you for your words, Patriarch. That will be all." said one of them, bowing in respect to the head of his faith. The other stood silent, face openly disapproving of the display.

"Prince Castor, Prince Pollux," the Patriarch nodded to each, before leaving, flanked by four of his templars.

The respectful one sighed, turning to his brother. "You should at least try to hide your displeasure, Pollux. The Patriarch may not say it, but he finds your behavior insolent."

Pollux snorted, scoffing at his brother's chastisement. "Not everyone follows the faith, Castor, and I find it insulting that you lower yourself by bowing to that man."

"Am I interrupting something?"

The twins turned, coming face to face with Altair nu Britannia. "What are you doing here!" snarled Pollux, fists shaking in fury at his audacity. Castor remained quiet, though his lowered eyes showed exactly how he felt about the newcomer.

"Peace, brothers." Altair said, palms open in surrender. "I came to show my respects. Orion and I had our differences…but I never wanted him dead."

Castor and Pollux shared a skeptical look. "You didn't do it? Then who did?"

Altair was suddenly seized by an inexplicable feeling of confusion, mind becoming hazy as he tried to gather his thoughts. A single idea remained in him, though acting as an anchor for his sanity in the vortex of chaotic mental activity that wracked his brain.

"Tell us what you know." Yes…that was his goal.

His eyes met the two red ones staring at him, and did as they said.

Valletta Naval Base, Malta

Black ops.

It meant many things to many people. To the government, it meant plausible deniability and an escape from responsibility. To the brass, it meant clandestine operations that they could not afford to be traced back to them. To Leila Malkal and her Wyverns, it was a death sentence.

They were soldiers at heart though, trained for the moment when they laid their lives for their country…for the moment when they died for their people.

Except the Union was not their country and the Europeans were not their people. Their country was half a world away, stripped bare to feed the insatiable Britannian war machine. Their people were slaves, a broken race whose culture and history were systematically eradicated while they themselves were stripped of their name and reduced to a number.

"Our anger will be the sword which our enemies shall fall on and our hatred a shield against the tools of war. We shall visit cruelty with cruelty and repay them in kind."

Close to a hundred pilots got into their customized knightmare frames, readying for the war to come.

"Wyverns, today, we will deliver justice!"

In the nearby command center, an observer watched the unit made up of exiled Britannians and Numbers gear up. Three words took up the top right corner of the display.

Project Varangian commencing.

"I've always admired the discipline of the Japanese people." His seat by the window afforded Lelouch the sight of pedestrians and commuters going about their daily business. "Their country is practically in a state of civil war, yet for them it's business as usual."

Seated beside him was Eric, his dark hair now highlighted by a ghastly yellow hue. When asked why he had decided to embellish his head with such an eyesore, the teenage noble had merely replied that it was the latest fashion trend in Pendragon, before offering to show Lelouch where he had had it done. The prince was quick to firmly but politely reject his offer.

Eric kept uncharacteristically silent at Lelouch's comment, sparing his companion a brief glance before checking in with the others in the convoy of armored cars escorting them. Gottwald had chewed him out for nearly letting Lelouch die during the Ashford Academy Skirmish, and he was now taking his job far more seriously.

Sighing, Lelouch watched as their car passed through the checkpoint leading to the Viceroy's Palace. Security was visibly heightened, with soldiers, most bearing the marks of the Purists, lurked behind each corner, watching everything that moved like a hawk would its prey. Overhead, a triad of fighter-bombers streaked by, maintaining the absolute dominance of the air force.

They disembarked on the steps leading to the Palace's main entrance, where one of Clovis' secretaries greeted them. Lelouch noticed that of all the guards they passed by, none of them were Japanese.

Sensing his curiosity, the girl guiding them smiled. "The Viceroy had the Elevens sent back to their bases." Lelouch nodded. In hindsight, that was to be expected. Britannia was xenophobic at heart, and in the wake of an attack, Elevens in the military faced greater suspicion.

"You imbeciles! Do you know how this makes me look? Our military is the greatest in the world and we are losing to a bunch of untrained, ill-equipped rabble!" Clovis' tirade echoed through the hallways leading to the conference room.

"I take it he's in a bad mood." Lelouch said jokingly, managing to elicit a giggle from the secretary. "Thank you," he squinted to make out her nameplate, "Eve." He finished, flashing her a gracious smile, before stepping into the room.

Clovis was busy pacing about the head of the long table, fuming, while the assembled military men trembled before him. "One debacle after another! Are screw ups all you lot are good for?" He asked rhetorically, fists shaking in the air.

"Perhaps I could be of some assistance?" Lelouch offered, his voice breaking Clovis out of his rant.

"Lelouch! Thank God. You're presence here has served to double the intelligence in this room." The tension lightened by barely a drop, but it was a welcome change for the men whose careers were on the line.

Lelouch took his seat at the table to the right of Clovis, Eric moving to lean against the wall behind him. "Sit down, brother. Let's get briefed of the situation first, shall we?" He said in the most placating voice he could muster.

It seemed this was enough to get the irate Prince seated, albeit with hands massaging his forehead as if warding off a particularly bad hangover. With this achieved, Lelouch fixed the others with a calculating look. "Gentlemen, the briefing?"

"Sir, in the chaos of the attack last night, multiple missives were sent out recalling all non-essential forces back to Tokyo." Of this, Lelouch was already aware. He had had a long talk with Clovis, questioning why his Zero Squad was no longer where he last left them. "This was concurrent to rebel attacks and ambushes all over Honshu." The aide clicked a button, causing the screen to show a map of Japan, with a mix of red and blue dots coloring it.

"Reports coming in are conflicted, and we have yet to determine just how bad the situation is, but for now, we must assume everything south of Tokyo is lost."

"Do we have any idea what forces are at their disposal?" Lelouch studied the map intently, watching as more and more blue dots flickered out, only to be replaced by the crimson red of the JLF.

"It seems mostly to be infantry, sir, with armored elements in support. No air force or navy to speak of, thankfully, although scouts report sightings of three independent knightmare brigades."

Lelouch gave the aide a sharp look, as if he had made a mistake. "Three brigades? How did they get that many frames to begin with?" A thousand knightmares was no force to laugh at.

"When the JLF took over Kyushu, they used several EMPs to knock out our knightmares. They're probably using the captured frames." Clovis grumbled, contributing to the conversation at last. "Do we know who's leading them?"

"Only Kyoshiro Tohdoh and his Holy Swords could manage to pull off something like this." Lelouch answered in turn, so casually that it sounded like the most obvious thing in the world. "I'd suggest we try to hold and fortify this line." He drew an imaginary line across the map with his finger.

"With all due respect, Your Highness," Kewell began, "wouldn't it be more prudent to gather our strength here, and wait for reinforcements to reach us?"

"Normally I'd agree with you," Lelouch nodded to the Purist Commander, "but we've still got insurgents hiding in the ghettos, making Tokyo itself unfeasible for long term defense."

"We also don't know if and when our reinforcements are arriving." Clovis muttered sulkily.

"Your brigade will be arriving within the month." You could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed.

"…Schneizel."

The Lord High Chancellor unclasped his cloak and handed it to Kanon. Schneizel inclined his head towards the viceroy's office, silently signaling for his brothers to join him inside. Once the doors were shut, Clovis flopped onto the couch, taking up its entire length. "It's not even 9 and I'm already exhausted." Clovis moaned, burying his head in a pillow.

Lelouch and Schneizel glanced at his prone form, then at each other, before finding seats for themselves. "Has everyone had breakfast?"

"I'm not particularly hungry at the moment." That was not the answer Schneizel wanted to hear as he fixed Lelouch with a hard stare. "Breakfast sounds lovely."

"Personally, I'm famished." Clovis answered, turning on the couch so that his eyes were now seeing the ceiling.

"Good." Schneizel rang for service, a pleasant smile on his lips once again. "It's been ages since the three of us sat down together for a meal. I can't even remember the last time we did this."

"I believe the last time was also during Christmas, at Aries Villa, with…" Clovis trailed off, casting a worried glance at Lelouch.

It did not go unnoticed. "With my mother." finished Lelouch. "You can mention her in my presence, you know."

Two maids pushed in a trolley filled with fruit and pastries. "Thank you, we will serve ourselves." The servants bowed and left, leaving the three princes to their business.

Soon the three were seated around a coffee table. Clovis filled his plate with an assortment of food, before wolfing it down with a steaming cup of coffee, made more palatable by two cubes of sugar. Schneizel munched on a croissant while pouring himself some Darjeeling and Lelouch remained content with his Earl Grey.

Schneizel and Lelouch waited politely for their brother to eat his fill. "His Imperial Majesty has finally woken from his deep slumber." The Prime Minister began, in reference to the Emperor's tendency to leave matters of the state, no matter how serious, to his children.

Clovis' face fell. "What did he say?" Attracting the Emperor's attention was rarely a good thing.

"He finds the entire thing a nuisance to deal with, but the Area's importance to Britannia's military has spurned him into action. The 15th," Schneizel's face betrayed the distaste he felt, "has been assigned to redeploy here."

"The 15th…isn't that under General Calares?"

"It is."

"Isn't he a..."

"He is."

Clovis inhaled deeply. "And the Emperor trusts the man?"

By now, Lelouch was thoroughly confused by his brothers' vague conversation. "An explanation, please. Who's this Calares fellow and why should we be worried?"

"Calares, in addition to being a diehard Corporatist, is one of the ne Britannia's most ardent advocates."

"Well shit." Lelouch summarized succinctly. Ne Britannia…as in Carine and Robert ne Britannia - without a doubt the blood thirstiest of the throne's contenders - and rivals of the la Britannia family. The line of ne Britannia was famous for another reason, aside from their pro-war advocacy.

They held the unconventional belief that the military ought to be privatized in order for it to be as efficient as possible.

At first, such a school of thought had raised some eyebrows. However, while ridicule was the only thing it got from the aristocrats, the same could not be said for the mega corporations and the capitalists who were favored by such a policy. The Corporatist faction's ascent was practically overnight, becoming the third most powerful in the military next to the Euro-Britannians and the Purists. Being funded by the monopolies generally meant rapid expansion and the only reason they hadn't taken over completely was unanimous opposition from the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

"I don't suppose we could just reject the reinforcements and resolve the situation on our own?" Lelouch asked, already knowing that the answer would be a firm "No."

"At least we'll have your men." Clovis said to Lelouch, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.

"A brigade isn't much compared to an army."

"Which is why I've taken steps to rectify the situation." Schneizel informed them, just as vested, or so it seemed, in dealing with the new internal threat. "Lelouch, if you'll come with me, I think you shall be pleasantly surprised with what I've brought."

Schneizel set aside his cup and saucer made from fine china, and stood, leading his brothers to the palace's roof. Clovis, seeing an airship for the first time in all its floating glory, was flabbergasted by its blatant defiance of gravity. Chuckling at his brother's reaction, Schneizel instructed Kanon to show him around the ship.

"And then there were two." Lelouch muttered. "I suppose this is about your text from the other day?"

Schneizel dove straight into it, as was typical of his clean cut, no bullshit approach. "Why did you hide Nunnally from me? If you hadn't we could have taken steps to safeguard her. Instead, you've given the Emperor a valuable bargaining chip to use against yourself."

"And letting you use her as a bargaining chip against me is any better, I suppose." Lelouch wanted to say, though he wisely kept silent. "I apologize." He murmured, hoping to save what was left of their partnership.

"Don't. It's clear that you don't trust me." Dread seized Lelouch. He had fucked up big time now, turning the Prime Minister into an enemy with this deceit. "And why should you? All you've asked from me, all I've given really, are promises." Wait, what?

"All alliances are built on trust and mutual exchange." He proclaimed dramatically. "You handled the situation in North Africa like I asked, doing what most would call the impossible in order to further our goals and you've even lent one of your personal retainers as a test pilot for Camelot. It's time to even the scales again. This ship is now yours."

Lelouch looked at him skeptically, quite sure he was joking. "You're giving me the Avalon?" It was a well known fact by now that the Avalon was the Prime Minister's personal flagship.

"I'm not giving you the Avalon." This, if anything, left the People's Prince even more confused. In a move that would set the tone of their alliance for years to come, Schneizel handed him a letter, stamped with the Joint Chiefs insignia.

"This is the HMAS Glastonbury."

"Kaisoku."

"Hmm?" Tohdoh shifted his gaze from the tactical display to his oldest and wisest subordinate, Ryoga Senba.

"That's what they're calling this Kallen Kozuki now." Senba said from his kneeling position on the tatami, taking a sip of green tea.

"Is she that good?" The middle aged samurai commander asked, the barest hint of curiosity lacing his voice.

Senba closed his eyes, replaying the previous week's events in his mind. "Better. She was able to defeat the new close combat frame in a Glasgow. Granted that it took some help on my part to deduce its mobility, but she did do most of the fighting."

"Is that so?" His gaze turned to the sleek, crimson knightmare standing menacingly in the hangar bay below his office, a single claw like weapon in place of its right arm. "Perhaps we should give her something more suited to her level. I'd hate to leave an ace pilot bored."

January 2, 2018

To: Ashford Foundation

It has come to the church's attention one of the knightmare models you developed was named "Templar". As you should know, "Templar" is a registered trademark of the Church of Britannia and you are asked to cease and desist in using that name for all current and future projects, or we will take legal action against you.

Best wishes,
Church of Britannia

"You are Emperor only because we made it so!" – The Triumvirate to the 99th Emperor

"The HMAS Glastonbury paved the way for future cooperation and greater trust between the vi Britannias and the el Britannias. It also defined their roles within the alliance. The el Britannia line was an old, well-established family with many political and corporate connections allowing them to fund, supply and arm the vi Britannias. The vi Britannias, on the other hand, were popular with the commoners and Numbers. Lelouch vi Britannia, in particular, was also a military man of significance, and used the tools given to him to achieve ends favorable to Schneizel el Britannia, increasing both of their prestige in the process. They were generally considered unstoppable together, for one was a master on the battlefield, and one was a master off of it."

-Great Events of the 21st Century by Leonie Hart

AN: Reviews are appreciated, Reviewers are loved.