AN: Here ya go. Enjoy!
Arc III: The Positional Game
Part 5: Castling
"Castling: A move in the game of chess involving a player's king and either of the player's original rooks. It serves two valuable purposes: it moves the king into a more defensible position away from the center of the board, and it moves the rook to a more active position in the center of the board ." –Great Games of the 21st Century, Glossary of Terms
"Something in Lelouch changed after Nunnally was taken. The cracks grew bigger, wider. If we hadn't gotten her back when we did, I think he would've broken completely." – Jeremiah Gottwald
"…I will give you a Geass."
"Geass?" Lelouch peered at her calculatingly. It couldn't hurt to hear the girl out.
"The Power of the King," she said again, this time materializing in front of him. They stood in an endless mindscape where in place of the sky were cogs of machinery and timepieces.
"What does the power do?"
"It depends on the person in question." she said, tilting her head. "Geass is a wish fulfilled. It is the actualization of your deepest desires."
"Hmm," Lelouch looked on contemplatively, "and the price you asked of? Just one wish?"
"Just one," she repeated, nodding.
"What is it?"
She smirked like the cat that caught the canary, tracing a finger down his cheek. "I'm sure we can flesh it out later. It's a triviality compared to what I'm offering you."
Lelouch grabbed her wrist forcefully. "Will you tell me or not?"
"Not now."
"I see. No deal then."Just like that, they were back in the room.
"Wait, what?!"Her eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. "Do you understand what you've done?" she hissed.
"Turned you down?" Lelouch said, smiling cheekily. "I take it this doesn't happen to you often?"
"Geass can only be offered once to a person!"
"Too late now, isn't it?" She scowled, which was really such a waste on that pretty face of hers. His tone became serious suddenly. "So, tell me, are there other Geass users out there."
"No."
Lelouch tsked. "Now, now, let's try again. How many are out there?"
C.C. frowned at him. "I just said there weren't any more."
"Your pulse is erratic." he told her, pressing down on her wrist deeper to remind her that their skin was still in contact. She tugged at her arm, but found that despite the Prince's slim build, he had quite a grip. "I can tell that you're lying. Now, do go on before we're forced to resort to more…unpleasant methods of interrogation."
She scoffed. "Your pet girl couldn't break through me with that stupid chamber. What makes you think she'll do any better this time?"
The Prince laughed. It wasn't mocking or cruel or happy. It struck C.C. more like a parent who had heard something ridiculous from a child. Something heavy and unpleasant settled in her stomach even as the cold overtook her body.
"You don't want me as an enemy, Miss." He leaned in close, his breaths making the sensitive skin behind her ear tingly. "You can still feel, can't you?" A sudden, twisting pain registered in C.C.'s mind for an instant and she yelped reflexively. A patch of angry red marred her arm where he pinched her.
"How would you like to die today? Immolation by fire, drowning, crucifixion?" She shrank back from the Prince, not far though, for he kept his hand on hers."You've given away too much of yourself, dear girl. With a single signature, I can decide your fate and you know what?" He chuckled throatily. "You won't even get the sweet release of death afterwards."
Lelouch leaned back into his chair, an easy smile back on his face. "So, you can tell me what I want to know or I'll withhold the pizza until you do."
"There are other people with Geass out there." she confessed, slowly, hesitantly. "I don't know all of them."
"Are there any within Japan?"
"Only one that I know of. Kallen Kozuki, my former contractor."
"Former?"
Her face tightened. "She's going to die soon."
2 April 2018
Kyoto, Area 11
'Oscillation' was one of those words Suzaku had to learn for school. "A frequent state of one change to another," his teacher's voice echoed. He hadn't found a use for the word until now.
It was the faint humming that lingered in between shouts of laughing men, dying men, hysterical from pain. It was the oh-so-abrupt high-pitched screech in the instant when vibrating steel vaporized alloy and carbon. It was here, in the middle of this war torn city, where sword locked with sword in a deadly game of skill.
"You should give up now." Suzaku heard Tohdoh say over a hacked, one-way channel."You never could get an edge over me, even with the better sword." There was no hint of mockery in his words. It was merely the confident statement of a master to his pupil.
From the opposite speaker, an agitated sound blared. "You do that and I will hunt you down Suzaku! Do you know how many hours I poured into my baby?"
"One thousand, two hundred and ninety three," Suzaku mumbled automatically, "fifty three days and twenty one hours."
"I want my Lancelot back in one piece, you hear!" Lloyd continued to scream as Suzaku eyed Tohdoh's stance.
"I copy," Suzaku said with no real enthusiasm.
He shifted his right foot forward to get inside his opponent's guard. Instantly, as if they shared the mental link of two dance partners, his enemy reacted by stepping backwards with his opposite foot. Their deadly equilibrium was kept, as it had been for the past quarter of an hour.
Kyoshiro Tohdoh had served in the military with Suzaku's father, Genbu Kururugi, way before Genbu had become Prime Minister of Japan. Theirs was a friendship and brotherhood forged in war and tempered by peace. One day, while visiting, Tohdoh had caught Suzaku practicing in the dojo with his father's old war sword, a relic from the First Pacific War.
In exchange for Tohdoh's silence to his father, Suzaku would be his apprentice in bushido.
"There are only a few of us left, these days, who remember what honor means. I should hope that the word will not die with my generation." Those had been Tohdoh's exact words to him after their deal was struck.
They leapt apart for the umpteenth time since the fight started, assessing each other, looking for a weakness to exploit.
Tohdoh's voice fought through the static cackle of the radio. "It seems you've been practicing, Suzaku. The last time we fought like this, you barely lasted sixty strikes."
"I was younger," Suzaku finally deigned to reply," and brasher." He urged his mecha forward; powerful, calculated swings forcing his sensei back step by step.
"You still are." Tohdoh's frame became a midnight black blur as it rushed forward into his guard, taking advantage of his overextension. Suzaku's sword had just started its swing when it connected with the leg; an upward, glancing blow was a small price to pay for the damage Tohdoh inflicted. The revolving chain sword - a passable mimicry of the Lancelot's Maser Vibration Sword – was made all the more deadly with all the forward momentum channeled into one graceful skewer.
Suzaku jerked awkwardly to the side, wincing as the oscillating steel took its toll on the Lancelot's shield generator. A chunk of melted machinery came apart as Tohdoh leapt back, taking his sword with him.
"I suppose this new master of yours has given you a cause?" Tohdoh said. Suzaku could hear his frown even with all the electronic interference."Enslaving your own people is such a noble task, isn't it?"He gripped the handle, now parallel to his lips, with both hands.
"Pull back, White Knight. We have hostiles incoming from the north!" he heard the Captain of the Glastonbury - his superior by technicality while his Prince dealt with things in Tokyo - say.
"Yes, pull back Suzaku! Get my baby to safety!" Lloyd added in a more panicky tone.
"I can take the JLF, Glastonbury." Suzaku answered, confident. It was Tohdoh he wasn't so sure about.
"These aren't JLF, White Knight." Hawthorne said with a grim tone of warning. "These are Federation soldiers, thousands of them."
His stomach became a pit of lead. More men meant more killing…"Where did they come from?"
"Unsure." Hawthorne sighed. "Black Prince has ordered us to consolidate our gains. Do you copy?"
Suzaku scanned the perimeter, smiling as he saw a decapitated arm here and a smashed headpiece there. The Four Holy Swords had been taken down, even if they remained alive. It would take them time to recover adequate machinery to be credible threats.
"I copy." The Lancelot shot backwards with a burst of speed, and Tohdoh reacted instantly, unwilling to let his prey get away after what he had done."Requesting assistance in evac, sir."
"Hailstorms inbound on your 10." The Hailstorms were Britannia's latest mass produced VTOL craft. These were best classified as hovercrafts, being a hybrid of helicopters and planes.
A tall building blocked his immediate view, but the moment he passed, the unmistakable staccato of machinegun and rocket fire began. Suzaku glanced backwards; three vehicles were suspended in the air like angels as they unleashed righteous judgment on Tohdoh. None connected, but it was enough to force him back into cover and break pursuit.
"Thanks for the help, Glastonbury. Headed to extraction point now."
"Copy that White Knight, see you in five."
Until next time, Sensei.
Lelouch vi Britannia was a human being, and human beings had limitations. He could only be at one place at a time. He had only a set of eyes to see with and a pair ears to hear needed to sleep and they needed to eat.
Which also meant he couldn't do everything alone.
As his command grew, Lelouch realized that no matter how exceptional his own skill with strategy was, he could only concentrate on so many things before he began to slip up. Directing an upwards of 40,000 men across several hundred kilometers meant that dozens of battles and skirmishes could be occurring simultaneously. It would be a fool's agenda to micromanage every single thing in such a setup, yet it would be beyond foolish to let the fighting go unsupervised.
He needed a cadre of competent strategists he could trust with the details while he concerned himself with the bigger picture. That was where his staff came in.
He surveyed the holographic map projected upon the center table, watching the figures, like pieces on a chess board, jockey for positions. The bloody fighting with the JLF had ceased for the time being as both sides recuperated from their losses. Their frontlines, now more or less stable, ran across Honshu in a jagged cross-section of the island.
The tide, however, was turning against the Empire. The Federation was pouring more troops, more tanks, more everything into the Area. Their working partnership with the JLF to drive out Britannia ensured they'd be able to land their troops unopposed. Already the Federation's presence was felt as time and again the Empire was forced to move its lines further back or risk losing soldiers before the main fighting occurred.
The Glastonbury and the Legion were tied down in the south near Kyoto, acting as an anchor for the depleted, demoralized units that remained active in the region while the bulk of the Colonial Guard guarded the way to Tokyo. Suzaku and Eric acted as a reactionary counterforce in the mean time against Tohdoh and his Holy Swords, who had been dogging their retreats relentlessly. The latest fight had taken down the Holy Swords at the cost of several dozen Gloucester units, Maximillan's personalized Templar frame and bits of the Lancelot. It wasn't necessarily a victory, but it did relieve some of the pressure they were feeling.
So far, minor skirmishes were all it ended up being as neither side was willing to commit too many troops. The distinct lack of death didn't fool anyone though.
The kings might just be castling for now, but the center would be a battleground soon enough. This was merely the calm before the storm.
Dealing with riots was nasty business with its teargas, gunfire, beatings…such inelegant solutions to a powder keg problem. No, Diethard Ried preferred to use his craft, his art.
The compartment trembled slightly just as the rotors slowed their whirring, their vehicle's skids touching the cement pavement. The door slid open, a soldier waiting by it. Diethard didn't acknowledge the man, merely stepped outside of the company helicopter – a most generous donation from the Eleventh Prince.
Not that Diethard was complaining, of course; being a special dispatch had its perks.
This high up, the winds were particularly fierce, and Diethard had to sandwich his hat between hand and head to keep it from being abducted.
He walked towards the edge like one would stroll in a park, leisurely and amiable. Below the settlement's walls, a tumultuous sea of scruffy looking, ghetto-dwellers assembled. At least, that's how Diethard imagined they looked. He couldn't really see from this height.
"Sir! Captain Samson is waiting in the watchtower!" the soldier informed him. His hands were taut around his rifle and he held it too close to his chest to be useful. A little closer and he would've been hugging the thing.
"Let's not keep the good Captain waiting then," Diethard said, following with a distinct lack of urgency as the rigid watchman nearly ran back to his commander.
The watchtower was a quaint little structure in contrast to the walled supercomplex. It was a little ironic that the thing doing the guarding looked a lot less formidable than the thing being guarded. Then again, that's how the Empire's prominence rose, over the backs of its colonies.
"Mr. Ried? Captain Samson." The uniform extended a polite hand to the journalist. "I'm in charge of the wall's outer defenses for the time being. The Prince informed us he was sending someone, but we were expecting someone a little more…" he trailed off, unsure how to phrase his words to be as diplomatic as possible.
"You were expecting a military man." Diethard stated. He could respect his efforts, he supposed, at trying to hide his disappointment, not that it would have worked. The middle of a level two crisis, however, was not the time to be doing so. "Don't worry, Captain. The mediais the perfect tool for manipulating the masses."
He shifted his assessing gaze to the various monitors and screens within the room, each adding a pixel to the picture. The protesters were mostly teenagers and young adults with more hormones than common sense. Some were armed with cheap Chinese firearms that looked more toy than gun, but were probably just as lethal.
There was a lot of shouting going on too, even if the monitors had no speakers to them. Diethard could hear them from here.
"Leaders?" he asked, beginning to pace around the room.
"None that we've identified sir," said Samson with a frustrated growl. "The rioters seem to have now direction…for now. Frankly, I'm more concerned how they got those weapons of theirs! Tokyo's already been purged by Prince Lelouch!"
"Tokyo was purged of the JLF Resistance Cell, Jiyu, true, but there were far too many rebels to capture. There were still several hideouts, bases and safe houses that took days to seize and a sizeable amount of weaponry went unaccounted for." Diethard explained. "Do we know what's causing this?"
"V.M. 11-2460 maybe?" Viceroy's Mandate 11-2460 was an executive order signed following the abduction of the two princesses and a rumored but unconfirmed princess consort, placing all of Area 11 under Martial Law. That order had been made public four days ago – these riots had started yesterday. It did make sense even if the timing was slightly off, but Diethard's gut instinct, honed from years of sleuthing, lashed out.
There was something more to this.
"Any demands?"
"None."
Diethard sighed. "Great. I don't suppose we could pick up one of these freedom fighters for a little chat, could we?"
Samson looked at his sharply. "Not without escalation, sir, and to be honest, I'm not comfortable sending my men out there under these conditions."
Diethard didn't blame him. Two hundred men to guard twenty six thousand? It was an unenviable task. They were lucky that only a small portion of the ghetto-dwellers were actively protesting, but he knew from firsthand experience how quickly things could get out of hand. All it would take was a nervous soldier with an itchy finger and they could have a full blown insurrection within the hour."How about we negotiate with them?"
"Are you crazy?" Samson blurted out. "The Empire doesn't negotiate with rebels!"
He wasn't wrong. Even if the Empire did, Diethard did not carry enough authority to actually offer anything of value. "I prefer to think of them as…concerned denizens. Besides, it's only so we can get to the heart of the matter."
"Sir," Samson said through gritted teeth, "you're forgetting they don't have a leader. There's nobody to negotiate with."
Diethard continued to watch the screen. The people looked to be chanting something, though he couldn't make it out. Their voices were just buzzing noise by the time it reached the watchtower.
"Invite them to a meeting. I'm sure they'll come up with someone. If nothing else, it'll serve to confuse them which could only help us. In the meantime, I'm going to need a computer with internet access."
"You can use mine." Samson said. "What's this for sir?"
Diethard dropped into the offered seat. "Why research of course. Can't go into this thing blind, can we? Now let's see…demographics of protesters are Elevens aged fifteen to twenty one by the looks of it. Most probably never remember the war. That suggests the cause has possible idealistic roots…here we go."
"I…sir, how did you even find this site?"
"The deep web."
He could hear the frown in Samson's voice. "Isn't that illegal?"
"Not when it's used for Imperial purposes." Diethard answered confidently. The speed with which he navigated suggested that this wasn't his first time accessing the seedy underbelly of the internet. "What do we have here?"
A video popped up and Diethard pressed play automatically. A uniformed man appeared on screen.
"That's General Calares!" Samson exclaimed. "He's a Federation prisoner now. What's he doing in a video addressed to the Elevens?"
"My guess? He's being forced to do it." Diethard said. They continued to watch the disgraced General discuss, in length, Britannia's plans for the Numbers -specifically, the original intent behind the strict division between the city and the slums.
It wasn't common knowledge, per se, but there were rumors that circulated in the military about the reason. Diethard himself had given the matter some thought previously, and his ideas were confirmed.
More than anything, the Ghettos were created to segregate the natives from Britannians so that in the event an order came from the Emperor to exterminate the Numbers, it could be executed quickly and quietly before word got out.
"We need to take this site down." Diethard said. "Contact the Viceroy. This situation must remain contained."
Gottwald massaged the bridge of his nose while black circles weighed down his eyes.
They had been running around haggard for days, searching for a clue to the kidnapper's identity. Unfortunately, whoever executed it had been a true professional. The cover up at the crime scene was done with more than military precision. Either the person…persons were extremely obsessive compulsive or they were trained in special ops. Neither choice appealed to Jeremiah.
Fortunately, the administration had been completely cooperative throughout the investigation. It was amazing how much bureaucratic red tape disappeared when you had two princes backing you.
The door slammed open. "The dockyards were a bust." Villetta said dejectedly. The dark skinned woman was Prince Clovis' representative in the task force, given her prior working experience with Jeremiah. Sancia and Alice streamed in behind her.
Jeremiah's head dropped into his hands. "We're running out of leads."
"Hell, are they even still in the country?" Alice said, casually walking over to the fridge. "They could've been snuck out. That would be the smart thing to do."
"They're in the city." Jeremiah's muffled voice insisted.
"I'm just saying-"
"They're in the city."
Jeremiah looked up in surprise. The feminine voice didn't belong to his associates.
"Good morning," the pink-haired girl said, snapping a picture of them with her phone, "or is it afternoon here? Not that it matters. Time is relative." There was a flash as her phone captured the moment and she pressed a button on it, before bringing the device to her lips. "Area 11, Tokyo, Princess Recovery Taskforce."
A blonde pushed past her with a wide grin. "Hey there, this is the taskforce right?"
"Of course it is," the girl said in a flat tone, "I don't make mistakes."
Jeremiah continued to stare at them with wide eyes. "Who are you two supposed to be?"
"Oh, apologies." The blonde didn't sound too genuine. "The name's Gino Weinberg, Knight of Three and this," he gestured with his hand to his companion, "is Anya Alstreim, Knight of Six. The Emperor sent us to guard Nunnally vi Britannia."
"She's been kidnapped." Alice deadpanned.
"We're aware." Anya said, still with apathetic neutrality. "We thought it best to assist in retrieving the package."
"The Princess is a person." Jeremiah said, frowning.
"All persons are packages."
"Yeah, don't mind Anya here. She does this to everybody." Gino interjected with a roll of his eyes.
"How did you even find us?" Villetta asked. "This is a secure location." It had been set up less than a week ago and they weren't funded completely off the books. There shouldn't have been a way to trace them.
Anya held up her phone's screen to them. "Anonymous tip."
"What!" Jeremiah stood abruptly, sending his chair clattering backwards.
"Don't worry about it, it's all cool." Gino raised his hands placatingly. "We're all part of the Empire here."
"And the Princess? How did you know?"
"Anonymous tip." Anya said once more. She looked to be typing something in her phone. "I am running a trace on the number now. Triangulation should be complete in thirty seconds." She looked down at her phone. "Oh, anonymous sent us another text. 'Come and get me. I have them.'" she read aloud.
"Where?" Jeremiah demanded, his eyes narrowing.
Anya tilted her head to the side. "They seem to be by the dockyards."
"Impossible!" Villetta bristled. "We just swept that place less than an hour ago!"
"Check again." she replied curtly.
Villetta looked to her superior. "Orders sir?"
Jeremiah's face was set in a grim line. "I'll go. The rest of you keep searching the other targets."
"Great!" Gino said cheerily. "We'll go with you as backup."
"Bu-"
"We're not under your authority." the expressionless Anya said. "The Emperor's Knights go where he commands, and he commands this."
Jeremiah's shoulders fell. "Fine. Don't get in my way." he warned, heading out the door.
"Don't worry about it, Knight Gottwald. We're elite pilots for a reason, y'know?" Gino called out from behind.
"Knightmare pilots these days," he muttered under his breath. "Think piloting is all there is to war. Well there aren't going to be any damn Knightmares to fight here."
Gino Weinberg, aside from being a good pilot, was also a good driver. If you considered almost dying sixteen times good that is. To his credit though, he made a normally thirty minute drive into a ten minute one.
Jeremiah's heart hammered uncontrollably in his chest as he got out of the car. He'd been through war zones less terrifying than that, honestly.
"Come on Knight Gottwald, don't want to be late now." Gino said, already ahead of him. He held his pistol in a slack grip that made Jeremiah frown. Anya's stance, by comparison, was too tense. Both would be shooting off target, if it came to it.
Jeremiah let out a forced breath that took the edge of his anxiety, drawing his pistol as he did. A jolt raced through his fingers upon touching the cold steel. Suddenly, he felt superhuman. It didn't take long for him to catch up with the duo.
"Are we close?" he asked the pink-haired girl whose eyes were still glued to the screen of her smart phone.
"Thirty two steps," she replied with disturbing precision.
And it felt like he was now with two entirely different people. Gino's carefree smile faded into a neutral line. His posture straightened, his grip tightened and his eyes took on a vicious glint.
Anya, for the first time since he met her, pocketed her phone – not before taking a selfie with a bemused Jeremiah though. "Documentation purposes," she answered when he asked why she took so many pictures.
It ended on an anticlimactic tone. They found all three hostages, the two Princesses unconscious while the other girl was awake. She had a faraway expression when she spoke, and would blink at them spastically…
Bitter, Lelouch thought, as he savored the morsel of coffee tiramisu. Everything had tasted bitter lately, even sugar. His hand reached for his cup, briefly brushing his officer's pistol. The warm - but not steaming - beverage was already halfway to his lips when he paused, leaving it awkwardly hanging in the air. He had hoped to alleviate his tongue from the unpleasant aftertaste before realizing that his drink of black coffee was not much better. Eyes darted between solid and liquid until he set down his cup with finality.
The sound of heavy wood pivoting in place can be heard, but he dared not look. Loaded steps meet fur to create soft thuds, but he did not stir. A certain someone, finally, dropped into the chair opposite his, and Lelouch was forced to acknowledge the presence.
At least she didn't bring Guilford.
"You're late."
"You promised me a name." she said.
Lelouch leaned into his chair. "Cornelia, I'm starting to think you care more about revenge than Euphie."
Two calloused hands threatened to split his desk in half from the force they exerted on it. "Never say that!" she hissed. "I would do anything, anything to keep her safe."
Lelouch smiled with ruthless teeth bared - a reaction that left her between furious and confused. "It's good that we've reached an understanding, Cornelia. I feel the same way about Nunnally."
She paused, hopefully to consider his words. "The name, Lelouch. I want the name of whoever did this."
A moment passed by as they stared at each other; a single instance that seemed to stretch past infinity.
"It was Schneizel."
Cornelia blinked once, twice. "You're insane," she stated dryly, yet remained seated. Lelouch took that as a good sign.
"Consider this: start to finish, the attack lasted all of thirty six seconds. What do you make of it?" Cornelia had risen to the rank of Field Marshall not only because of her royal status, but also due to her military mindset.
"They had the element of surprise and a decent plan," she said without hesitation.
"They cut off communication within the first six seconds. Attacks from multiple directions. Forensics found 6.8mm rounds at the scene. Sixteen casualties, all our people." Lelouch added."What does that suggest?"
"Good training and European weapons in the hands of disciplined men."
"Now, what kind of person would have men like those on hand?"
"Someone influential, powerful," Cornelia concluded, her face becoming wary.
"Someone not from a terror group,"
A single brow arched upwards. The skepticism was all over her face. "What makes you say that?"
"Would a terrorist let go of a hostage that important for nothing?"
"…I suppose not."
"There's another thing though, that letting them go suggests."Lelouch folded his hands in front of his empty plate. "Whoever's behind this can make it happen again, easily. That's why they were released this quickly."
"You call five days quick!"
"Yes." he said, holding up a hand to stave off her rant."Five days is enough time to show that despite our best efforts, we couldn't find them. These men were trained to move in, move out and disappear even within our own territory."
The blood drained from Cornelia's face. "Special forces."
Lelouch nodded, closing his eyes softly. "Let's take a step back, however. Why would this person go through all the trouble of kidnapping the princesses?"
"Because of us. It's a fear tactic, something meant to hit us."
Cornelia's only real fault as a commander was how easily prone she was to her emotions. Remove that, and she could match Lelouch in a straight up fight (not that Lelouch fought fair, but that's besides the point). That's what Lelouch had done here; he removed her anger and forced her to think clearly by bringing Euphemia's safety into question.
"Yes, it is. But if it was only a fear tactic, they'd have kept them longer. They also released both at the same time. What changed between then and now that affects both of us."
"Because of the Federation's attack. The Empire's in crisis."
"And they don't want us distracted. This leaves us with the conclusion that…"
He could almost hear her eyes widening. "Whoever did this is European."
"No. Whoever did this wants you to think he's European. The route they took that day wasn't on schedule. Whoever planned that ambush knew of the last minute changes. They had to have someone on the inside."
Lelouch tilted his head, eyes still shut."Their associates are vetted." He took a deep breath then continued. "Anya Alstreim, Knight of Six, was being texted instructions on how to retrieve them the moment she touched down on Tokyo International Airport. Unless out intelligence community has been horrendously lax of late, the EU shouldn't have that sort of classified information."
"That is suspicious," Cornelia conceded.
"They were halfway to the safe house, which by the way, this anonymous tipper knew about despite being relatively new intelligence. We'd have to be so deeply compromised for this to get out to our enemies."
Cornelia was nothing if not blindly loyal. "It could still be someone from the EU."
Lelouch snorted. "Balance of probabilities, Cornelia." He gave her a moment to digest everything; it was a lot to take in.
Finally, she broke the silence. "So what connects Schneizel to the kidnapping."
"There was..." Lelouch hesitated, not quite sure what to call it, "a message…of sorts."
"A message?" her brows furrowed. "I didn't hear about that."
"We only discovered it recently. The girls had been blinking in a set pattern." Lelouch winced, realizing how stupid that sounded."It took a while, but my Knight noticed it."
"A set pattern?" she repeated slowly.
"Yes. We've identified it as being SIS tap code. All three carried the same message." He slid a folder towards her that detailed the doctor's reports.
Cornelia frowned as she perused its contents. "This is it? The best reason they could come up with is deep thought implants?"
Lelouch let his shoulder's slump. "It's the best theory we have. Nunnally, physically speaking, is perfectly capable of seeing. It's only a result of severe mental trauma that her eyes refuse to open. The finest medical minds of the Empire couldn't solve this in a year and the kidnapper did it in five days."
"This is good news! She can see now."
Lelouch was already shaking his head. "No." His hands began shaking violently as he stared at them dismally."As soon as Jeremiah figured out the code, she…reverted."
"I-" Her voice died in her throat."This shouldn't be possible." she managed to murmur.
"But it's happening anyway." he said dejectedly.
There was a long pause before she spoke again. "So why would Schneizel kidnap Nunnally if you two are working together?"
He looked up to meet her eyes, more composed now. "Because I lied to him about her at the beginning. He probably didn't trust me after I did that to his face. If not that, then who knows? Maybe he's just doing it to keep me in line."
"That's doesn't seem like Schneizel MO."
"He left a calling card for me."
Cornelia's eyes widened. "The message."
"'Don't lie to me again.' was what it said."Lelouch informed her.
She squared her shoulders and stood up with renewed determination. "What's our next move then?"
"Our?"
"We're in this together now. Schneizel involved Euphie," a spark of something lit up in her,"I won't stand for that."
"I appreciate the sentiment, but there's nothing to be done on my end. I…I can't be reckless with Nunnally like that." An invisible hand squeezed his heart, tighter and tighter. "I can't lose her again."
"For what it's worth, I'll keep an eye out. See if I can find anything. In the meantime, you should think about pulling Nunnally out of here."
"She left the country three hours ago, on a private plane. I've appointed her as steward to my fiefs with a detachment of my most trusted guards."
"That leaves you vulnerable here," she said with unconcealed concern,"especially with the Federation looking for targets of opportunity."
He offered her a faint smile that came out more grimly than he intended. "I trust you'll keep her safe if I die."
Her face softened. It was a look Lelouch hadn't seen since his mother's death."Don't be reckless."
"Dear sister, we're long past that point now."
Alice: I cannot believe what you did!
Lelouch frowned at the text. Alice didn't like contacting people in this manner.
Alice: Honestly! Sticking me on this god-awful plane the minute I was found? How could you?
Ah, it was Nunnally then. Understandably, she'd be upset she was being sent away (again) for her safety when the entire point of her return to Japan had been to stay with him.
Lelouch: Don't overreact, Nunu. We had you go through a medical checkup to make sure everything was fine.
Lelouch: Besides, that plane is a multimillion pound piece of military hardware. Hardly a god-awful plane.
Alice: That
Alice: Is
Alice: Not
Alice: The
Alice: Point!
Alice: And don't you 'Nunu' me. I'm furious!
Lelouch: Nunually, this is for the best. You'll be safe in Montreal.
Alice: The Princess told me to tell you that she is not talking to you anymore.
Lelouch: For how long?
Alice: Forever.
Lelouch: About a month then?
Alice: Try three.
Lelouch: Tell Sancia to keep her out of trouble.
Lelouch: And you don't get her into trouble.
Alice: K.
Lelouch, not for the first time that day, sighed. It was good that Nunnally and Alice were getting along, but maybe it wasn't such a great idea placing those two together – never mind the three other girls. Alice's natural dislike for him coupled with Nunnally's irritation was not something he wanted to face soon.
The fact that he had just sent them halfway around the world did nothing to assuage him.
Those weren't the only texts he received that day.
Schneizel: You pulled her out.
Lelouch stared at his brother's words with a clamped jaw and replied with a curt "I did."
Schneizel: That wasn't part of the plan. I don't wish to seem heartless to you, but the Empire must keep the appearance of strength in these pressing times. To pull out a Princess from an Area under attack…it sends out the wrong message.
Schneizel wasn't wrong, Lelouch knew. If the public ever found out about it, there would be mass pandemonium among the Britannian populace in the Area. Already Clovis was hard at work putting a gag on the newspapers, television and radio, but that was child's play compared to trying to control the net. In the modern, digitalized age, nothing spread faster than viral videos online.
Lelouch: We have contingencies in place.
Schneizel may have kidnapped his sister, but that didn't change their relationship fundamentally. If anything, it reinforced Schneizel's place as the dominant partner, now that he'd shown he could take out Nunnally as he pleased. Montreal would hinder him, but it wouldn't stop a determined Schneizel.
Schneizel: Just be careful.
Schneizel: And don't lose the Area.
Schneizel: Or the war.
Lelouch wouldn't. Not with his sister's life on the line.
"Mr. Ried, it's good to see you again." Ruben said with a cordial nod and a gentle pat on his shoulders. "I heard about your work in the Ghettoes recently. Well done handling it."
"It was nothing." Ried said dismissively. "Just doing the Prince's work. Which reminds me…"
"Ah, of course, of course! Please, have a seat." Ruben gestured to the chair after his table. "What news from the Prince?"
Ried placed a small, black leather-bound notebook on the table and slid it across. "His notes on the Templar Prototype, with these improvements it should be ready for official production."
"Are we really calling it Templar now?" Ruben asked, tilting his head. Last he heard the Patriarch of the Church of Britannia was adamant against it.
"The Prince has his ways of turning people." Ried said with a shrug. There was no denying it was impressive and that no one knew how he did it.
"His personal charisma, I take it" Ruben's eyes twinkled with an understanding and knowledge that came with years of experience. "How is Project Aegis?"
"The EMP shielding works like a charm."
"It should. I had to recruit Earl Asplund to look it over before we got the blasted thing right." Ruben shook his head ruefully. "Good thing he can be bribed with pudding."
Ried snorted. "Speaking of the Earl, how is his study on the captured Knightmare going?"
"The Guren, you mean. He's trying to put it back together again. The Radiant Wave Technology attached to its arm has been a boon for the lab boys. We're hoping it can help optimize our rail gun's power and resilience."
"There's also the matter of your successor."
A perfectly raised brow rose to meet his statement. "My successor?"
"Yes."Ried nodded with self justifying conviction. "Your successor."
"Is this from the Prince?" He asked, leaning his chin atop bridged fingers.
"Not in so many words," Ried admitted, "but as his special dispatch, I'm taking the initiative to broach this topic with you. This Ashford Foundation's continued existence and support is essential to his efforts. I will not have the future of Britannia and Prince Lelouch compromised because of something as simple as a succession crisis!" His words ended on a passionate tone even a zealot would admire.
"You're calling me old." Ruben deadpanned. "Not that I don't know it, but it's, different, getting called out on it." He sighed heavily then leaned into his chair. Tired, weary eyes shut close and his lips became a firm line. "Well, go on, I'm not against talking about it."
Ried pulled out a dossier from his briefcase and flipped it open casually. "Would your son be of any help?"
"Gerard? Heaven's no! I love that boy to bits, but I'll be the first to tell you he's not cut out for this type of life. Doesn't have the mental fortitude to stand up against Krum and Eisenheim. Leave it to him, and the company will crack within the week."
Ried hummed and continued to read through the folder. "You have a cousin, this says."
"Diagnosed with lung cancer, barely a month ago. Poor Francis, but then again, he smoked as much as he breathed air." Ruben said with a sad shake of his head. "What a waste."
"Well, your nephew Gabri-"
"Drunkard."
"What abo-"
"Josephine? She's a nun. Very religious, very devoted." Ruben said meaningfully.
"I see." The folder snapped shut as Diethard rested a hand on top of it. "You've given this plenty of thought."
Ruben barked out a laugh. "Mr. Ried, I spent my best years building this company and my last few maintaining it. It's the only legacy I'll behind aside from family. This is all I think about."
"We haven't mentioned your granddaughter." Ried pointed out.
Ruben gave him a sharp look. "She's far too young to be taking on something this big."
"It doesn't have to be immediate," Ried said in a soft, placating tone. "We could introduce her to the company slowly, see how she takes to it first before we decide anything."
"That's…acceptable." Ruben said after a considerable pause. "What do you think about this new law being voted on?"
"What? The Honorary Britannian Reclassification Act? It has its ups and downs. The integrated Areas like 1, 2 and 9 will be glad for it, but the rest of the Numbers won't be as pleased to be downgraded like that."
"Think it'll pass?"
Diethard gave him a long, hard look. "With Guinevere pushing for it? How could it not?"
Wolfe scowled at the cards on the table even as Boomer's massive arm swept the chips over to his side.
"How the fuck is that even possible?" he asked Alex. She shrugged nonchalantly and dealt another hand. "Fuckin' Russ doesn't even understand English."
"Poker easy." Boomer boomed. "Need no English, only this," he tapped the side of his head with his forefinger.
"Yeah, yeah, just play why don't you," grumbled Wolfe."Check." he said as he peeked at his cards – a three and a six.
"Raise." Boomer threw two stacks of his red chips into the pot cockily. If Wolfe called it and lost, this would be his last round. He gave his watch a glance and figured why the hell not. He'd been losing for the last two hours, either he recovered or his misery ended. It was a win-win.
"All in."
"Say Capt'n, where'd Kage go?" Alex asked as she flipped open five cards, Wolfe's paycheck from the last month going with them.
Wolfe sighed. He didn't even get any pairs this round. "Don't know. She's off on some secret mission for the Prince." He didn't mind, not really anyway. Kage was a great operative, but he/she/it still freaked him out.
"Ha!" Boomer stood up, fist clutching the air triumphantly. "Full house, Captain."
"It was a good game." Wolfe said in a low voice. The blow to his ego hurt a lot more than the one to his bank account. "I-"
"Incoming sir!" The radio crackled with Rawlins' voice. "One car approaching, Prince's colors."
Wolfe stood and adjusted his beret, frowning. "Keep on guard, but don't fire unless fired upon." he said into the radio. "Boomer, Alex, guard the prisoner." He inclined his head towards the handcuffed and gagged girl that watched them silently from the corner.
"Why we here?" Wolfe heard Boomer say to Alex. "Girl pretty, not important. Should be fighting, killing Federation."
"Don't know big guy, but orders are orders."
"Wilson, Wilson, meet me at the gate." Suzaku said, already headed there before they confirmed.
"Captain, I have visual on the Prince. He looks pissed too." Rawlins commented in an almost amused manner. "Oh, and he brought a friend with him."
"Make sure to run him through biometrics anyway. Maintain SOP, Rawlins. It could be an imposter still."Not bloody likely considering the warehouse had just been converted recently into a Britannian black site, but the Prince would appreciate their due diligence. Probably.
The twins met him at the entrance just as Lelouch made his way in. "Present, Arms!" The three performed a textbook salute.
"At ease." Lelouch said. "Where's Kallen?"
"This way sir."
"You have a Geass."
Kallen froze. How did he know?
As if reading her mind, he answered. "C.C. and I had a little chat." He loomed over her still form. "What does it do? I understand each power is unique to the individual in question."
"I don't see why I should tell you." Her lips settled in a tight, defiant line.
Lelouch sighed. "Really Kallen, I'd rather do this the easy way. See I brought along a friend – Kaname Ohgi. He's a friend of your brother's right? Naoto?"
Kallen's glare was all the answer he needed.
Lelouch withdrew a small knife from his pocket. "See this knife?" He held the thin, glinting blade in front of her eyes. "For every minute you delay answering, I'll have my men go into the room Ohgi's being held," -He pointed to something behind Kallen- "and we're going to disassemble him. Piece. By. Piece. With this." He waved the blade side to side, swinging it like a pendulum, ominous and taunting."We haven't soundproofed the room yet so you'll be able to hear his screams quite nicely. And when we're done with him, we'll get some of your other friends out here. Do you understand?"
Both her shoulders and eyes dropped as the fight left her. "…Yes.".
"Good." Lelouch smiled. "Your Geass, what is it?"
"Absolute Reaction." she answered in a low, tired tone."It allows me to react to things as soon as they happen."
"Do you get headaches after prolonged use? Nausea?"
Kallen nodded twice. "Do you need a demonstration as well?"
"Oh no, no need. I don't want you dying on me all of a sudden." Lelouch's smile became feral and predatory all at once as his teeth, a bright white, showed."I have a use for you yet, Miss Stadtfeld."
J: What exactly is it that you do as the Eleventh Prince's Special Dispatch, Mr. Ried?
D: Anything and everything, Julie. Anything and everything. There were days when I acted as an agent of his in some respects, with the authority to act on his behalf. Other times I'd be little more than a glorified secretary. Usually though, I was his public relations person and advisor on topics within my field of expertise.
J: And what would you say your rank was in the Britannian Hierarchy?
D: Civil or Military?
J: Both."
D: By technicality, I wasn't even within the Hierarchy, but being the Prince's Dispatch meant I was afforded some respect at all times. I remember while dealing with a particular crisis which shall remain unnamed being called into a room full of generals and colonels. The moment I stepped in, everyone went deathly quiet, you could hear your own heartbeat! These officers, they're usually full of pomp and opinion and ideas, but at that instant, they looked to me for the solution.
J: That sounds surreal.
D: It definitely was. Anyway, my own importance was constantly shifting depending on the severity of the situation and the demand for my skill set, but I like to think the Prince considered me as a high value asset on most days. I knew things that some of his own Zero Squad members didn't.
J: And I understand you worked closely with the mysterious 'Second Shadows' of the Prince?"
D: We did cross paths on occasion.
J: Can you tell me anything about them?
D: Off the record.
J: Alright.
D: The Second Shadows were an eclectic mix of individuals led by Kage. Some were Japanese who had trained in esoteric arts of silence, stealth and espionage from birth. Others were Britannians or Fractions recruited and trained in special operations. The only thing that brought them together was fanatic loyalty to the Prince. I saw one of them shoot themselves on command for the Prince without hesitation once.
J: What for?
D: The Prince was trying to prove a point.
J: Did the man die?
D: Oh no. It was a woman, first of all. And she survived, despite aiming for her head.
J: How?
D: The gun the Prince handed was a blank, but she didn't know it at the time. Would have gone with a smile too. The Second Shadows were a bunch of crazies, but they did their better than anyone else and the Prince could trust them more than his own family.
J: Considering his family though…
D: Yeah, it doesn't say much, does it? But you get what I'm trying to say.
-excerpt from: History Channel - How they changed the world: Diethard Ried
(Unreleased Version)
AN: 10/30/2014 - WOW! This story's a year old as of ten days ago! In honor of that, I'm going to add twelve fast facts about this story.
1. The story if rife with Chess Terminology. Each Chapter and even the title of the story is from chess.
2. On average, each chapter is 10,000 words. 13 chapters = 130k words.
3. Each story arc is an odd number. Arc 1 = 3 chapters. Arc 2 = 5 chapters. Arc 3 is planned to have 7 chapters (currently at 5)
4. Between the year 10/20/2013 and 10/20/2014 - I finished 12 chapter, or 1 chapter per month.
5. As of today, it is the 21st highest in terms of follows, 30th in terms of favorites, and 44th in terms of reviews! (This makes me so happy ^^)
6. This story was born two days after I finished CG season 2 - with the idea behind it to see how far Lelouch could go without Geass. The Point of Divergence being if a different squad found him in Shinjuku (i.e. he didn't meet Suzaku or C.C.)
7. Duality and Unified disunity play a huge role in how Britannia is portrayed. (Split loyalties of soldiers to their commander and the army, aristocrats and civil governments, absolute monarchy and the legislative senate/parliament)
8. KMF Models have significant names. For example: The Argyl comes from Argyll, a region in Scotland (in keeping up with the style of naming Britannian KMFs after UK places). The Gardemare was originally spelled Gardmare. I changed it to "Garde" since its a French designed model, and the word means Guard in French. There are others :)
9. Every Geass has a drawback that reflects the danger of an excessive trait.
10. Events and people from Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion, Akito the Exiled and Nightmare of Nunnally are all weaved together in this story.
11. The sheer scope of this story requires me to have 2 files open at all times to write a chapter. The chapter itself and a cross-reference document of all my notes dealing with Military Hierarchy, Terminology, People and Worldbuilding.
12. At the end of chapter 12, C.C. recites a poem. It refers to 7 of the principal Geass users that have appeared so far and 1 non-Geass user. Can you guess who is who?
Thanks for reading guys and gals! It's been a great year so far, here's to a better one!
Also, thanks to ajpa for betaing.