AN: Here ya go. Enjoy!
Arc III: The Positional Game
Part 6: Compensation
"Compensation: An imbalanced reciprocal return. refers to various (typically positional) advantages a player has in exchange for a (typically material) disadvantage. Compensation can take many forms, such as: better pawn structure, two bishops, better piece activity or development, opening enemy king to attack and control over key squares, diagonals, ranks or files." - Great Games of the 21st Century, Glossary of Terms
"The alliance with the European Union couldn't have come at a better time. The Federation's assault had been timed to perfection such that within weeks, we were falling behind on all fronts as the majority of the Empire's and the Union's forces were arrayed against each other instead of the Federation.
Critics of the Empire have often pointed to this event as proof of the need for reforms within the Military Hierarchy, specifically about information dissemination. OSI declassified files revealed that information regarding this attack was received months in advance, but that key officials refused to act on the information or were never informed.
General Wei Hong Gu heading Army Group Bai Hu (OSI Codename: White Tiger) struck Area 13 (Indonesia; OSI Codename: Million Islands). Gen. Zhou Xiangling and Army Group Xuan Wu (OSI Codename: Black Turtle) launched assaults from forward positions within the militarized state of Pakistan and western China against the Asian Alliance (the EU protectorate). Local EU forces in Afghanistan, Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan and Kazakhstan (OSI Codename: Sandy Tomb) were unable to resist the surprise assault. Simultaneous attacks by the Zhu Que Army Group (OSI Codename: Vermillion Bird) under Lin Tai Xin in Eastern Russia (OSI Codename: Winter Giant) were less successful as the EU had a fairly large force present near Vladivostok to repel an expected Imperial invasion.
Perhaps the most critical front of the war, however, was in Area 11 (Japan; OSI Codename: the Lesser Dragon). The veteran troops of Li Xing Ke, named the Qing Long Army (OSI Codename: Azure Dragon) were some of the best within the Federation. They assisted elements of the 2nd Pacific Fleet under the command of General Lang, who earlier that year had seized Hokkaido and local rebel cells rallied under the banner of the JLF.
Britannia did have the advantage, however, of aerial superiority thanks to their relatively new Tempest fighter-bombers and the HMAS Avalon, but was sorely lacking in conventional KMFs (Sutherlands especially). Near the beginning, the KMF ratio between the two forces was at alone allowed the Federation to pave a bloody path to Tokyo…"
--excerpt from: The Great War, an analysis by Sebastian White
"EU and HBE Alliance – Burying the Hatchet or Burying our History?
April 8, 2018
Earlier today, EU President François Lamartine and Prime Minister Schneizel el Britannia, acting on behalf of Emperor Charles zi Britannia, signed a momentous treaty that, for the first time in history, aligns the Holy Britannian Empire and the European Union militarily against a foreign power. This move comes as a surprise to many and responses so far have been polarized.
The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Deodatus Blackwood, has remarked that the move was one of 'significant strategic importance in face of the Federation's ambitious attack' and urged the nation's policy makers to remain 'vigilant, but optimistic in these trying times'.
Others were not so forgiving in their views. Most vocal among dissenters was opposition leader Samuel Linwood, who decried the act as a 'most vile betrayal of the Empire's principles'.
Indeed, this recent act has made many reevaluate this new direction the Empire seems to be taking as old rivalries are transformed into new friendships. Many question the legal and political long term consequences of this move. Fears have been raised that this could be taken as tacit surrender of our claims on the British isles, one of several longstanding feuds with the European Union. If so, this could set a precedent against the Empire.
Latest polls indicate that support for the government fell to sixty-three percent among nobles, but approval ratings rose to seventy-one percent in the overall polls.
Prime Minister Schneizel was unavailable for commentary.
This is Julie Brunswick, reporting to you live."
To: redacted
Fr: redacted
Wyvern's exfil successful. Rendezvousing at Malta. Requesting medical assistance for Lt. Akito Hyuuga. 1st degree burns on thirty eight percent of his body. Condition critical.
April 14, 2018 a.t.b.
Warehouse 13, Shinjuku Ghettoes, Tokyo Concession, Area 11
"Captain Wolfe."
Victor stopped cleaning the barrel of his disassembled, prototype, Ashford-made rifle to look up. To his front, not two steps away, was Kage. Two similarly masked figures flanked Kage and only the difference in height made the three distinguishable from each other.
"Agent Kage," Wolfe greeted evenly, eyeing her two companions warily, "welcome back. How did the mission go?"
Kage's head tilted slightly to the side. "It went as smoothly as can be expected."
Wolfe nodded before gesturing to the two behind her. "Made some new friends?"
"This is Shi," Kage introduced the one to its right, the tallest of the three and a broad-shouldered man, "and this is Seishin." Seishin was a head shorter than Shi, but had a few inches on Kage that it was still readily apparent Kage was the shortest.
Nonetheless, Kage was still the scariest of the lot.
The two gave Wolfe a small bow, their backs ramrod straight. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Wolfe-san." Seishin said, a slight accent tinting his voice. Wolfe felt a brow go up at the odd suffix attached to his name.
"We look forward to joining you on the field, Wolfe-san." Shi said next.
Wolfe gave Kage a look. "They'll be joining us, will they?"
"Yes." it laughed, which came out as a high-pitched giggle. The sound was just so jarringly disjointed with her persona. "The Prince has deemed their presence," it said, voice low and distinctly masculine, "necessary for our mission."
"Do not worry about us." Seishin said, taking a step back and wearing the shadows like a second skin.
"We are field ready." Shi continued from behind him, no longer standing where Victor last remembered. "We of the Black Clan pride ourselves in remaining out of sight, Wolfe-san."
There it was again – that strange syllable suffix they continued to utter. "What is that thing you keep adding to my name? 'Sun'?" His brows furrowed deep. "What does it mean?"
"San," Seishin corrected. "It is an honorific of our people."
"Our people…" –his eyes widened- "you're Elevens, aren't you?" Wolfe said.
"Japanese." Shi answered, suddenly cold and curt.
Wolfe blinked, taken aback, before realizing his mistake. "Ah, right, of course. Force of habit, I meant no offence."
Seishin returned into his line of sight. "It is alright, Wolfe-san." He glanced around at the dusty crates, marked by a sigil of some sort. He pointed to the V-shaped rune. "That sign, I've seen it many times. What does it mean?"
Victor shrugged, not having to look to know what he was talking about. "I don't know myself. The Prince started shipping in all these things a few days ago, along with a new prisoner. Looks to me like we're setting up shop here for a while."
"Interesting." Seishin mused, taking a seat opposite of Wolfe's.
"What are you, exactly? You, Shi and Kage?"
Seishin smirked slyly. Victor could tell just from his voice that he had to be. "We are people."
"Not regular ones." Victor said. "You move way too quietly for that. You've been trained. Extensively."
"We go by many names." Seishin explained. "Shinobi, monomi, nokizaru…these were our titles long ago. In your Britannian tongue, we are ninja." Not that Victor understood any of those words. He'd have to look them up.
It suddenly struck Victor how normal they sounded compared to Kage. "That's your real voice, isn't it? You're not using modulators like Kage."
"Correct, Wolfe-san."
"Do you know why Kage uses one?"
It was Seishin's turn to shrug. "I know as much about her as you do, possibly less."
"I…wait, Kage's a woman?"
"Yes, Kage-san is a woman."
Victor grinned, rubbing his hands together eagerly. Boomer was going to pay big for betting against him. He could hit a few bars in the city…
There was a pause. "Say, where'd Kage go?"
One picks up a few things in life, especially if one is an immortal that's been alive for a couple hundred years.
"I haven't seen you around here before." C.C. said, a sly smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
"If you'd seen me before then I would've been fired already," the figure retorted. "I was part of the team that apprehended you."
C.C. hummed curiously, watching her latest captor with pronounced interest, like a child mulling over a new toy. "You're one of those types, all cloak and dagger. Not OSI – at least, you don't seem like one." The witch peered at her, leaning forward as her hands cupped the base of her head, letting her arms and elbows support it. "Not SIS either and the IIS are a complete joke. No way they'd get someone like you."
"Someone like me?"
"You know, trained for wet jobs. Black ops. Assassination and espionage, the works. Your walk is too quiet, too graceful to be anything else." Not unlike V.V.'s her thoughts wandered. "I suppose you work for Lelouch? It seems everyone around here does."
"You have disturbingly in depth familiarity of the intelligence community."
"I've been around." C.C. said dismissively. Her eyes fluttered shut softly, focusing on the fluctuating tone and pitch of the person before her. "Modulated voice and face technology is pretty advanced gear for a regular operative, but its imperfect. Even that prototype of yours is flawed, if a person knows what to look for."
The Hook…
The figure didn't answer, but C.C. could feel the glare on her skin, and she answered with a Cheshire grin. "Yes. You'll do nicely for what I have in mind." Golden eyes opened, gleaming brightly. "How would you like the opportunity to serve your Prince better?"
The Bait…
"I would do anything to further the cause of His Highness." the figure answered, the utter conviction unmistakable. "What are you proposing?"
The Offer…
Skin touched skin as shackled hands lunged forward in a single, sudden, swift motion. The world around them faded away, replaced by a surreal atmosphere of mechanical things.
"I offer you the single, greatest tool you will ever find." C.C. said, watching as her soon-to-be contractor's life flashed before her eyes, just as she knew her life was now an open book.
Child of the Akasen.
"She is your child!" the mother gasped out, cradling a babe in her arms.
The man sneered. "Get out of here! I have a wife, a family! Are you trying to ruin that for me, you wench? Go! Now!"
Raised with the Akasenko...
A girl of seven continued to shuffle the shells around, the ease and speed betraying years of practice. "Which shell holds the coin, sir?" she asked a tourist, if his Caucasian complexion was anything to go by.
"Ha! This one!" the man bellowed, laying a firm palm on his choice, the right most shell.
The girl was already shaking her head. "Sorry sir, it's this one." She made a show of flipping the central shell, expertly slipping in the token in question. She gave the man a small, innocent smile. "Would you like to try again?"
The man grumbled, yet withdrew another hundred yen note from his wallet.
Until one day…
"What's your name little girl?"
The girl sniffled. "It's Sayoko."
"And your parents?"
She merely shook her head, blinking to keep away the tears that already clouded her sight.
"Would you like to go with me? There's a temple, to the north of here, for children like you. It's a decent roof over your head and three meals a day, if nothing else."
She decided to be something more…
"Teach me." she said, a determined face settling in.
"Teach you? What exactly?" the man asked, amused. He wiped his sweaty forehead with a towel. A few feet away, an unfortunate log lay in pieces – the victim of his martial prowess and bare hands.
Her lips parted to answer.
Shinobi.
"I offer you a power that can shake nations and break empires!" The glowing red sigil pulsated violently, in sync with every word.
"Sayoko Shinozaki," C.C. said, gleaning a name from the montage of memories, "for the price of one wish, I will give you a Geass."
April 16, 2018 a.t.b.
Tokyo Abbey (Church of Britannia)
War has such interesting effects on society. Nothing polarizes people quite like it. A metaphorical line is drawn in the sand and all boundaries, distinctions and classifications disappear into two all encompassing ones.
"Philippians 4:13, faithful brethren! Say it with me!" The bishop spread his arms wide open invitingly to the congregation. "I can do ALL things," he drawled out, before pointing the microphone to the gathered.
Are you for us or against us?
"Through Christ who strengthens ME!" the crowd screamed at the top of their lungs. The soft, rhythmic strumming of guitars and the hypnotic beating of drums echoed, taking advantage of the room's excellent acoustics.
It turns the most ordinary people…
There was a man seated near the front pews, dressed in a button up and slacks. Standard eight-hour, white collar worker born to a common Britannian father and an Eleven mother that got together before the annexation. A dedicated, educated citizen upon whose back the Empire was built. He said the occasional prayer, went to Church on Sundays and gave to the poor every so often; the very definition of a Sunday Christian. So why was he here, on a Tuesday of all days, jumping up and down (and, quite frankly, looking ridiculous in his office clothes) to the beat?
…into zealots.
The clergyman bobbed his head up and down, eyes sweeping over his flock approvingly as the passionate crescendo of sound - modern and catchy, an eclectic mix between club music and the traditional hymns of church - seized the crowd by force. He brought the mike to his lips once again.
"As the Empire faces difficult times ahead, we, the people, must stand united against our foes and their pagan ways! This world belongs to our God, our church, our nation!"
Feral, frantic screeching began. "If our God is for us, than who could ever stop us!" the crowd sang, absolutely apathetic to the fact that they were off key. "If our God is with us, what could stand against!" They stated, not asked.
On the second floor of Tokyo Abbey, a man, with one arm set in a cast, watched on as he leaned against the rails weakly. His lips pursed at the frenzy following the bishop's rhetoric.
"You're looking well, General Darlton."
His eyes darted to the left, spotting the origin of those words with his back against the railing and his arms folded. "It takes more than a broken arm to keep me down," Darlton answered.
"How about a broken arm and two bullets to the side?" Another voice joked tactlessly from his right. "Didn't know you were a religious man yourself, General. Look at the three of us, it's like a military get together up here!"
"A media man hardly counts as military, Earl Asplund."
"Please, call me Lloyd, Diethard, was it? We're both in His Highness's service after all." The scientist adjusted his spectacles. "Tell me, General, how do you find the place?" He inclined his head towards the dancing people below. "Rowdy lot, aren't they?"
Darlton frowned. "They're very…different from what I'm used to," he confessed. "Services held in Pendragon are far less…upbeat."
"This church caters to a younger audience, General," Earl Asplund explained, "hence, tradition tends to be done away with."
"And you prefer this kind of worship?"
Lloyd shrugged nonchalantly. "The music helps me stay awake."
"I must admit that I find it surprising you're here, Lloyd," Diethard said. "It's rare to find a man of science in church these days."
Lloyd's face turned grim and serious all of a sudden, an odd look for the eccentric engineer. "My baby's going to war without me tomorrow. Objectively, I might not believe in God, but if he can bring back my Lancelot in one piece, I'd be willing to pay him as much lip service as necessary."
Darlton refrained from pointing out that that wasn't exactly how religion - or spiritual faith in general - worked.
"Prince Lelouch is sending the Lancelot out without you?" Darlton didn't know if he should be impressed or incredulous. Aside from the Lancelot being a multimillion project that required a dedicated support staff on call for its maintenance, it was also the brainchild of Lloyd Asplund. Anyone who's ever known the Earl would know why trying to separate him from his work was a very bad idea; which also made Prince Lelouch's achievement all the more noteworthy. "Why?"
"I'm not done assembling the Guren Mk. 2." he grumbled. Darlton couldn't help but draw a parallel between the twenty-something genius and a spoilt child who had been denied desert until he finished cleaning his room. The image elicited a grin he hid by turning the other way.
"What about you, Diethard?"
"The Prince is sending me out on the field soon to document the war." Diethard said, surprisingly calm for a man who had just been told to go cover a warzone. "It should prove interesting, if nothing else."
"You're bound to get killed." Darlton said dryly.
"Your faith in me is touching, General." Diethard shot back. "Thankfully, the Prince has assigned a company of soldiers to protect me."
"That makes you an even bigger target. The Federation will think you're a VIP of some sort."
"Eh, it's not like I'm going to be anywhere near the frontlines." Diethard said.
"Oh?" Darlton's brow arched up skeptically. "Then why the need for all the security?"
Diethard grinned conspiratorially. "That's a state secret, General. You don't have the clearance, you know the drill."
"I'm a general." Darlton stressed, curiosity roused.
"Prince's orders." Diethard answered.
Darlton shook his head, letting the matter drop. "That excuse wears thin." They settled into a comfortable silence.
Or at least, two of them did.
Lloyd was humming and bobbing his head along to the techno remix of "Onward Christian Soldiers".
April 23, 2018 a.t.b.
"Your Highness," Arlington began, keeping her voice low and inconspicuous in the veritable cacophony of background voices, "Diethard has made contact. Taskforce Rath has landed on Hokkaido without incident. They are beginning with Phase 2."
"Excellent," Lelouch said, momentarily tearing his gaze from the monitor showing the developing situation in northern Honshu to give his intelligence officer an approving nod. "How is the Warehouse?"
Arlington's lips pursed and her eyes swung from side to side suspiciously before she answered. "A few more days before it will be ready to base the research group."
"And the prisoners there?"
"The prisoners have been transported to the Mesperyian. Kozuki has been transferred to the Urbino Metropolitan Hospital, per your orders, for testing. Squad Azure is providing security."
"Make absolutely sure word of her…condition does not get leaked." Lelouch said.
Arlington curtseyed, before smoothening out the creases that marred her dress's floral design. "Yes sir."
As she was leaving, the room descended into a storm of startled babbling and frantic voices that circled around the pillar of calm known as Lelouch vi Britannia.
"Forward elements have reached Sendai!" was the only thing she could make out in the pandemonium behind her.
Sendai (The Northern Front)
The metrical roar of distant artillery fire, muffled by the Sutherland's cockpit, was almost hypnotic to listen to.
"Fall back! The first line is overrun!" Villetta screamed into her headpiece. Her knightmare frame, now dented and dusty all over, was in full reverse, its landspinners whirring desperately away from the approaching swarm of Federation frames. Below her, infantrymen scurried backwards towards the Britannian second line of defense even as bullets, trifle things of metal that could barely scratch a Sutherland frame, crisscrossed between the two sides.
Ra-ta-ta-ta-tat! Ra-ta-ta-ta-tat! A knightmare sporting the hostile brown hue exploded from the steady stream of lead unleashed by Villetta's anti-armor assault rifle.
The return volley came from the downed pilots friends came swiftly in the streaking rockets that smashed into the apartment complex beside Villetta, turning it into a pyromaniac's wet dream.
Her blue mecha finally reached the Britannian line, and a pair of missiles soared forward, leaving a thin trail of smoke in the air. Both made contact with their marks, and twin Gun-Ru models were torn apart by violent energy.
"Villetta, what's your status?" the radio crackled.
Villetta took a moment to catch her breath. "It's good to hear from you Jeremiah. The Purist Lances are surviving, though just barely. We can't fight back, not when the Federation has three frames for every one we can muster."
"The Gun-Ru is a fourth gen frame." Jeremiah pointed out, the frown present in his words. "Even with those odds, you should be beating them easily."
Her hands balled forcefully at the thought. The elite knightmare group was being beaten back by the Federation, the Federation! "They have more of those new models we saw in the north, the Mao-Quiang. Looks to be a fifth gen performance wise, from what I can tell."
A squad of Sutherlands rolled in from the rear, hailing the dark-skinned officer. Captain Nu returned the gesture, watching them spread out among the buildings for cover. "I recommend we pull back across the hero-say-guwa river, back to our third line." she said, in typical Britannian fashion, which was a politically correct term for the butchered enunciation of the native tongue.
Jeremiah's sigh was long and loud. "The Hirose-gawa river," he corrected, "and we can't, for the time being. Evacuations are still ongoing."
"Evacuations?" she repeated. "What evacuations! I saw the last few Britannians escorted out of here days ago!" They had better show their damn gratitude too when her promotion came up for review. Those nobles brought everything they could with them, delaying Villetta's troops for days while they stood guard over their estates.
"I'm talking about the Japanese civilians, Villetta."
"The Elevens?" she said, sounding even more incredulous. "Since when did you become a Number lover, Jeremiah?"
"I'm not." the man insisted, though the words sounded weak to her. "Do you know why Sendai is important?"
Villetta blinked at the abrupt change of topic. "Of course. The Sendai airport is nearby. We're using it as a forward base against the Federation fighters. And the two roads linking Tokyo to the north converge here – the CHEX and the CHE." The Clovis Honshu Expressway and the Coastal Highway Eleven, respectively. If they had any hope of checking the massive northern army, it would be here.
"Well, there's one other reason. Sendai is also the largest city in the northeast, population wise. We cannot afford to let the Federation take control of so many Japanese, not when they're starting to conscript auxiliary units into their armies."
"They can't conscript dead men." she said in a low, conspiratory voice. "If we-"
"Out of the question." retorted Jeremiah sharply. "The Prince-"
"-will never have to find out. Think about it Jeremiah."
There was a pause. "Two more days, and we can pull back to the second line."
Villetta gritted his teeth. "That's insane!" How could Jeremiah Gottwald, the former leader of the Area 11 Purists, ask them to lay down their lives for these, these Numbers!
"There won't be any of us left alive in two hours! Not when you're asking us to hold back sixty thousand Federation soldiers! It's impossible!"
"That's grossly exaggerated and weren't you the one that always said wars were decided by knightmares, not men?" Gottwald sounded almost amused.
She scowled. "They've got us beat there too, if you can recall."
"Don't worry. The Prince is sending us reinforcements. You've wanted to see the Argyls in action since I mentioned it to you, now's your chance."
"It's not about how many men you have, but how you use them. Force can be multiplied in battle, a commander's intelligence cannot." –Lelouch vi Britannia
"Hit the dirt!" someone screamed, just before another explosion contributed to the city's methodical demolishment.
Even as men and women hit the floor all around her, Vera Salvador stood firm, watching impassively. Surprisingly, as if ordained by fate, her officer's uniform and, in particular, the triad of golden bath stars adorning her epaulettes remained immaculate in the urban warzone.
In the distance, a brown knightmare and a company of hostiles were crushed as an apartment complex fell on top of them, blocking that stretch of side road from immediate access.
"The engineers did good work." a feminine, Hispanic voice said from behind her. "The Elevens too," she added, though somewhat grudgingly.
"Ale," Vera greeted warmly, though she didn't turn. "Yes, these Elevens, despite their rushed training, are taking to war extremely well. They're far more disciplined than I initially gave them credit for." She sighed. "How are we on time?"
The sound of a pocket watch clicking open reached her ears. "Another four hours before we are to pull back to the fourth line."
"We better make it count then. I'd hate for this kill corridor to go to waste." She turned her head towards the waiting radioman beside her and nodded.
"Orders from Colonel Salvador! Prepare the Argyls! Clear the road!"
The Argyl 2.0 made for a far more effective combat model than its predecessor. The first was constrained by time, money and the limited perspective of theoretical engineers. Firing rate had become an issue, with their rate of fire severely limited given that railgun technology was prone to warping the barrel from the amount of magnetic energy necessary to fire each shot. The gun piece itself was far too heavy (a proper, lightweight alloy could not be found at the time), hence the need for its shield to even lift the thing to firing height. It was also undeniably aesthetically unimpressive.
The retrofitted units solved those problems to some degree.
Vera watched through binoculars as an Argyl rolled across the road on its treaded feet. Its right arm was distinct, being a blockish gun with a triple, rotating barrel instead of the original's parallel rod design. It remained fused to the shoulder though, to mitigate the risk of their technology falling into enemy hands.
Its gun-arm rose on its own to chest level, before the shield came up for added stability below it. Metal feet spread to shoulder length.
"Ma'am, Argyl One-three, prepared to fire," the radioman reported dutifully.
"Fire at will."
He nodded and relayed her orders.
There was a clear line of sight between the Britannian rear lines, where it was deployed, and the segment of the Clovis Honshu Expressway that crossed the Hirose-gawa river. Vera watched with baited breath as the Argyl broke its statue-esque vigil by urging its Molybdenum alloy trigun into life.
It managed to sound like a thunderstorm all on its own.
The shell was accelerated at such speeds that it impacted almost instantaneously. A fraction of a moment before it did, however, the shell fell apart, allowing its smaller components to pepper the targeted area.
Knightmares exploded, tanks stopped and men were shredded.
The Argyl didn't stop there. Its barrel rotated, cooling the recently fire part in liquid nitrogen even while it fire another shrapnel round into the Federation ranks. Again it rotated; the first component reloading, the second cooling and the third poised to strike.
Fire. Cool. Reload. Fire.
And then silence reigned.
Vera let her hands drop from her ears (when had she covered them?) and surveyed the damage. The road was damaged, if usable. Wrecked metal frames were scattered across the length. What few people that survived the barrage were falling back, all thought of crossing abandoned – for now.
"It is perfect." she cooed, while the Britannians lines roared their approval.
"Argyl! Argyl! Argyl!"
The Federation did not dare advance again for the rest of the day.
"Knight Gottwald reports that the Federation has been thwarted from crossing the Hirose-gawa river!" a technician proclaimed, evoking a ragged cheer from the group in charge of overseeing the north.
Lelouch nodded his head, face remaining neutral. "When evacuations of the women, elderly and children are finished, they are to fall back behind the Natori river, as planned."
"Sir," an officer, a lieutenant by the looks of it, began apprehensively, "wouldn't it be wiser to hold their current position? They've shown that they can hold off the Federation."
"An excellent question, Lieutenant. Simply put, that force was but a fraction of their true strength." Lelouch answered calmly, even offering the man - one of several handpicked by his colonels for further training - a reassuring smile. "No doubt once supplemented with air and artillery support, they'd break through easily and force us into an engagement we have no need or desire to fight."
"So the current plan is to keep retreating whenever we make contact unless we're forced to fight?" a captain was the one to ask this time.
"Or until conditions are favorable for our side, but essentially, yes." The advisors and tacticians around the room muttered concurringly. "There are three more reasons why we are continuing this strategy of withdrawal. Does anyone care to take a crack at it?"
A few brave souls offered half-hearted guesses. "We're trading space for time?" one of them finally half-asked, half-said, and Lelouch smiled.
"Correct. The more time we buy, the more time the Empire has to mobilize its vast resources to help us hold out and, eventually, push back against the Federation. Second, we our defense, as most of you may have notices, is imperfect. We simply don't have the means to cover every approach. A determined foe, such as the one we face, would eventually find the cracks in our lines and slip through. It is a danger we cannot ignore as flanking attacks would be disastrous and could cause entire segments of our defense to collapse – thus necessitating strategic withdrawals."
"As for the last reason, the Federation must spend more and more troops garrisoning their newly captured lands – and each soldier doing that is one lest we have to defeat at the critical point of this war. Now that the north's been dealt with," Lelouch continued, leaning into high-back chair, "we must now focus our attentions on the Eastern and Southern fronts. Reports?"
"Sir! Knights Alstreim and Weinberg are at Shikoku now, rallying the Sworn Regiments there to repel a minor JLF force."
"Colonel Haywood of the 2nd Quebec is heading the defense at the Kobe-Kyoto line against the Qing Long Army! No major engagements as of yet!"
"Colonel Curtis reports that the last of our artillery have finished setting up at Mt. Haruna! Bombardment on the Caprio Highway is underway!"
More shouts continued as each sector gave a brief report summarizing the happenings in the past four hours, while the Prince's attention had been on Sendai. Rarely, he would send out direct orders.
More frequently, his advisors had the foresight to do it beforehand.
May 1, 2018 a.t.b.
The Ashford Centennial Factory was completely alien from Milly's idea of one. She thought of an army of harrowed workers and assembly lines that stretched from end to end…not this.
"Robots building robots." Milly watched through the glass panels of her grandfather's office as a mechanical arm grabbed a prefabricated knightmare leg and attached it to the chassis – the pod-like chest piece from where pilots controlled their frames.
Her grandfather gave her a sideward glance. "Assembling knightmares by hand is a time consuming task and inefficient. We make them like this and then have our engineers fine tune them later on."
"How many does this place even make in a day?" she asked, turning around to face him.
"It varies." Ruben answered, taking a deep breath, a cue that his following explanation would be quite lengthy. "Aside from the railgun, the Argyl's parts actually aren't all that special. The pilot pod, the shield-mounted arm and the treaded legs are all from the knight police Glasgows. All that needs to be done is to update the software," –he pointed to an area where the chest pods were connected via cable to a computer- "modify the equipment," –Milly's eyes instinctively followed his fingers movement, finally resting on the mechanical arms that were systematically breaking down a Glasgow- "and put it all back together. That's all we really-."
The door swung open urgently. "Mr. Ashford!"
Ruben turned to the newcomer. "Yes, Mr. Dawson?"
"Sir, there's an intruder in lab eleven!"
"That's the one with the red knightmare right?" Milly asked offhandedly.
Ruben turned to her sharply, the stern expression foreign on his normally kindly face. "Didn't I tell you not to go in there?"
"But I didn't." Milly said with an innocent smile. "My foot never crossed the threshold while I was taking a look inside."
Ruben sighed and massaged his forehead, as if trying to ward off a headache. "We're going to be having words about this." he said, walking out after Dawson.
I wonder how Lelouch is doing. Milly thought, as she trailed behind.
"NO! No, no, no." Lloyd shot the dusty skinned woman a dark look. "Absolutely no!"
The woman returned his expression with a Cheshire smile, yet remained awfully quiet as she puffed out a ring of smoke. She seemed unperturbed even as the Ashford guards loomed behind her with crossed arms.
"What's your business here?" Ruben asked curiously.
The woman gave him a patient look. "Isn't it natural for a mother to be there when they fix her child?"
Ruben's face became perplexed.
The woman walked towards the base of the Guren Mk. 2, running her hand lovingly over the cool metal. "The name's Rakshata Chawla."
It was then that it clicked in Ruben's mind. "You're the Guren's maker?"
"That's correct."
"And you're here to oversee the Guren's repair?"
"It's not a repair," Lloyd grumbled. "It's an upgrade."
Ruben responded with a dry look. Rakshata gestured at the scattered pieces of machinery lying around with her pipe. "I'm not surprised you haven't finished. You do have the Earl of Pudding working on it. From the looks of it, he's trying to incorporate Blaze Luminous shielding. Not that it'll work."
"Oh?" Ruben asked. "How come?"
"It's a simple energy supply problem." she explained. "Most of the Guren's energy is needed to operate the Radiant Wave Surger."
"Hmm."
Rakshata's sigh seemed to say "Do you not know anything about the Guren?" She let out a puff of smoke before explaining. Ruben bit down on the woman's presumptuousness. Of course he knew what it was! But she was already explaining before he could answer."It's the clawed arm that triggers chain reactions by employing high temperatures to cause rapid Sakuradite expansion within KMFs."
"Energy isn't a problem. I've implanted your Guren with the latest Core Luminous model that should theoretically be able to power both systems!" Asplund said.
"Radiant Wave technology doesn't have a ceiling." Rakshata countered easily. "It'll take whatever amount you put in, leaving just enough for the frame to operate, just like your Blaze Luminous. Having two energy hungry features like that is conceptually unfeasible."
"You know a lot about Earl Asplund's work." Ruben said, assessing the Indian knightmare developer cautiously.
"Well of course. We were colleagues once upon a time."
"Project Luminary." Lloyd added reluctantly, as if graduating from the same batch as her was a black mark on his record.
"You were the team that created the Yggdrasil Drive?" Ruben asked, almost reverently.
During the height of the Ashford Foundation, they had spearheaded the development of knightmare frames. The very first frame, the Ganymede – piloted by the Empress Marianne, was a direct result of Ruben's ceaseless work. One of the problems they had to tackle was finding an adequate energy source to power such large devices. In response, the Ashford foundation developed the Core Luminous, a cube like sakuradite device usually found in the torso of the mechas.
This, however, burned out too fast to be of any practical use on the battlefield.
The Yggdrasil Drive was the missing piece of the puzzle that transformed knightmares from showy, giant action figures into feasible war machines.
"We were technically on opposite teams, even if we belonged to the same group." Rakshata said. "I beat him to creating a working Yggdrasil Drive."
"You used my idea!" Lloyd retorted.
"Never denied it." she answered breezily. "Really, Lloyd, you're far better at theory crafting than the more…practical aspects of knightmare development. You best stick to your strengths."
"As much as I hate to interrupt your reunion," Ruben cut in, "is there any reason why I shouldn't have you thrown into the nearest military prison for breaking and entering a protected installation?"
Rakshata tilted her head to the side, gesturing at the scattered parts and pieces of the crimson knightmare. "I can fix the Guren faster than he can."
"No you can't!" Lloyd exclaimed in the background.
"How do I know you're not a Federation spy?" Ruben asked.
A brow arched up perfectly. "Really? You know I'm Indian right?"
"India is part of the Chinese Federation."
"India is a Militarized Zone for a reason. We're the most vocal separatist state in the Federation."
Ruben didn't answer and the guards didn't move. He turned on his heel.
"Let her work on the prototype," Ruben whispered to Dawson as he passed him, "but keep a close eye on her."
Competition bred advancement – such was the Empire's mantra.
"I understand the great risks that Area 11 is facing," Schneizel said in his patented 'calm down' voice. "Nonetheless, most of the armies are still on the EU border. It will be awhile before we can get them to you."
Lelouch understood this as a military man.
Throughout history, logistics proved to be the limiting factor on empires. Supplies were cumbersome and, more often than not, placed far away from where you needed them. A sufficiently rapid way of transporting these was necessary if an empire was to react to the many threats on its vast, sprawling borders. The Mongols had their horses, the Romans their roads, and Britannia her airships.
Unfortunately for the last of the three, airships had not yet caught on fully with the people (or the military for that matter). A few ships were undergoing construction, but work was going slowly. When pushed on the matter, the brass finally answered Schneizel with: "There's no point to spending an exorbitant amount of pounds to finance the toys of the Royal Family", which was absurd. The very Empire's existence seemed to be to serve the whims and urges of their royals. It was likely Schneizel's enemies acting up against him.
Britannia would be paying for that mistake now. Airlifts to reinforce Japan would be hindered by Federation air raids and was a woefully unsuited to their needs, given how most aerial crafts could carry but a handful of tanks or knightmares per flight. Using ships was feasible, but speed was an issue and they were vulnerable to submarines, underwater mines and bombers. Defending transport ships would require an entire fleet to be mobilized and they didn't have the time for that.
"Area 11 is critical to the Empire's war effort!" Clovis fumed in his screen. "Tell him Lelouch!"
"Unfortunately, it's impossible to hold the line against the Federation." he said with pursed lips. "Each day, we're forced to pull back and shrink our lines or risk a full on rout. Already Tokyo's northwestern most regions are being by artillery fire."
He hated to admit that this was a situation even he couldn't stop. Sure, he could defend the major cities, but what about the hundreds of small roads and forest paths and mountain trails that the Chinese could use? Stretch themselves too thin to cover everything and they'd be overwhelmed on every front. They could not afford to waste soldiers like that.
"Tokyo could be under attack within the month." he finally said.
"See!" Clovis shouted with unnecessary volume. "Within the month!" he parroted.
"Would we lose Tokyo?" Schneizel asked Lelouch.
Lelouch shook his head after a moment. "I doubt it. Our forces can keep the majority of theirs occupied elsewhere."
"And can we win the war?"
Lelouch hesitated, but not because he was uncertain he could win. Eventually, he would. The question was whether the cost incurred to achieve victory would be worth it. "I have an idea, but you won't like it."
"Let's hear it."
"We can use the Glastonbury to…"
"Kyoshiro Tohdoh, the Miracle of Itsukushima."
The samurai's teeth clenched even more tightly, causing a slight ache in his jaw.
"It is a pleasure to finally meet you." The ranked general before him spoke in a tough tone. Though he didn't understand Chinese – hence the translator fidgeting nervously between them - Tohdoh could conclude from the tone that he was anything but pleased.
"The feeling is mutual," Tohdoh said, forcing an unpleasant smile on his lips. "Is there a particular reason you asked to see me, General Lang? I had thought General Li Xingke was in charge?" Running a revolutionary army was tough work and Tohdoh didn't appreciate being called away from his men when this talk could've been done over a secure line.
Lang smirked in a way that suggested he knew how inconvenient it was for Tohdoh, which only irked him more. This was a power play, pure and simple. The JLF couldn't afford to alienate the Federation, not when they were still recovering from the disastrous assault on Kyoto.
"General Li has been called back to the mainland for important affairs of state." An ambiguous enough answer that conveyed a clear enough message – Lang was in charge now. "The Federation would like to know when the JLF can commence a major assault?" the translator asked without the arrogance Lang's tone carried.
Tohdoh made a few rough calculations. "A few weeks, maybe. It will take awhile to repair some of our heavy equipment."
"The Federation finds this unacceptable." the translator said hesitantly. He looked to Lang for guidance and the Chinese officer nodded encouragingly. "Perhaps the JLF should be integrated within the Federation Army to better coordinate our efforts."
Tohdoh lowered his eyes dangerously. "Putting us under the command of the Federation then?"
"Temporarily."
"I doubt General Katase would approve. The JLF was only to be integrated after Tokyo was taken, not before."
"Tokyo will fall soon enough anyway." Lang gestured towards the holographic projection of their army movements on the wall. "What's the difference between then and now?"
"The difference is that we'd be under Minister Sasaki, an appointed official, instead of an elected one like you promised."
"We can hold elections sooner, General Tohdoh, if the JLF would just be integrated. Wouldn't this bring about a free Japan much faster?"
Tohdoh pursed his lips.
Bored. So freaking bored.
Gino moaned. "Why are we still here?"
"The Prince ordered us to." Anya answered in her usual monotone, not even looking up from the screen of her phone.
"But nothing's happened since we beat back that small raiding party of the JLF!" he whined. Despite popular belief, wars weren't all that interesting for an ace pilot. It was just periods of nothing with moments of heightened conflict in between. "We could be in Kobe right now, helping those Zero Squad fellows. Instead, we're stuck here just waiting."
There was a flash that blinded his vision for a second. He blinked, used to the strange moments when his partner would take pictures of the most random things. "May 16, 2018 a.t.b.," she recited into her phone, "Shikoku, Area 11, Gino Weinberg is bored of waiting."
He couldn't tell if Anya was being sarcastic. The words and context hinted that she was, but her tone was just so dull and flat and emotionless.
"Our skills are wasted here."
Anya spared him a moment's notice, before her eyes were once again glued to her screen. "You have a meeting with the nobles in ten minutes."
Gino sighed. While meetings were dull, he supposed that mind-numbing chatter with the so called "officers" of the Sworn Regiments (usually nothing more than the sons of Nobility playing soldier) was an improvement over his current activity (or lack thereof).
"How come you don't have to go again?"
"Seniority." Anya answered. Not for the first time, Gino cursed being the higher numbered Knight between the two.
Gino crossed his arms. "Has Prince Lelouch said anything about reassigning us? Soon hopefully?"
"No." Anya said. "Nine minutes and forty two seconds."
Gino scowled. "Yeah, yeah I'm going."
"Withdrawing to the next line of defense again." Haywood sighed. "All this running is making me depressed."
"Losing would be even worse." Wood said consolingly.
Haywood considered his friend and academy rival. "That's true." There was a pause. "Any word when we we're getting the next shipment SMAKDOWN rounds?" The only real weakness their line held was the severe lack of anti-knightmare munitions.
"We're expecting some tonight, along with a couple of Argyl units." Wood answered. "Lelouch has the Ashfords working overtime to keep us supplied, last I heard."
"Heard from who?" Haywood asked, surprise evident in his voice.
Wood drank from his flask of water, relieving his throat from its itchy dryness, before answering. "My half-sister studies in Tokyo, at Ashford Academy."
"Are you two close?"
Wood shrugged. "Close as half-siblings can be."
"What's her name?"
"Sophie."
They fell into silence once more as they stared into the distance. The sun was setting, casting the sky into varying shades of harsh orange. "It's strange. You'd think they'd be pushing harder given how few of us there are here." Wood finally said.
"We're entrenched pretty heavily." Haywood answered. It was the result of weeks of preparation. They started as soon as the JLF had been pushed back and had finished just days before the war against the Federation began to pick up in this part of the country. "Besides, most of their men are in the north, trying to get past Gottwald. It's only a matter of time before they break through there and sweep into northern Tokyo. By then, we'll be asked to pull back, in all probability, and all they'd have to do is clear out all these traps we set. That way, they don't have to waste their crack troops fighting us."
"Then what's your take on Kobe?" Kobe was the southern tip of their defensive line and arguably the weakest link, hence the presence of Lelouch's elite. "I heard the Zero Squad had to fight off another attack yesterday." Squad was actually a misnomer at this point. They only had two men in it for now, with the four girls accompanying Princess Nunnally to Canada and Knight Gottwald busy in Sendai.
Haywood adjusted his cap. "They want to take them down while they're isolated from most of their members and heavy support. Round-level pilots like them get exponentially harder to kill once other units are in place to help them."
"Then shouldn't we be helping them?" Wood asked, frowning.
"We are. Artillery has been concentrating their fire on the outskirts of Kobe, keeping the most of the Federation reinforcements at bay. 'sides, with the Lancelot and Templar Prototypes there, they can fend off the Federation's KMFs easily."
As day broke on the sixth of May, the captain in charge of the Britannian contingent on Mt. Haruna realized something was very wrong. The comforting, wedge-shaped shadow of the HMAS Glastonbury no longer hung over them, allowing sunlight to wash the camp.
"Lieutenant!" he bellowed. "Lieutenant!"
The Lieutenant jogged up to his CO before offering him a tired salute. "Sir, good morning sir! Nothing to report during the night shift, sir!"
"Never mind that." the Captain said irritably. "What happened to the Glastonbury?"
"It moved, sir."
"Yes Lieutenant, I can see that. Where did it go?"
The Lieutenant frowned. "I wouldn't know sir. Admiral Hawthorne didn't see fit to inform me of that sir."
The Captain scowled. "Get HQ on the line and find out ASAP!" His eyes flickered to the long stretch of gray in the distance.
A moment later he had his answer. "Captain! HQ says the Glastonbury has been reassigned for a special mission elsewhere!"
"Damn it." the Captain muttered. "Get the Starfalls ready. I want them ready to fire on Route 353 in the next minute!"
"Isn't that a bit extreme sir?"
The Captain directed his displeased demeanor towards his subordinate. "Don't you understand what this means? Without the Glastonbury, the Shibukawa Entrance is vulnerable!"
The entirety of Britannian Tokyo, called the Tokyo Concession, actually rested upon a series of interlocked plates that elevated it over its surroundings and the ghettoes. Thus, getting in or out of the Administrative Capital of Area 11 had to be done over one of its many entrances – portions where the elevation sloped to make it passable for vehicles and people. This made taking the Capital all the more difficult as an invading force had to seize one of these areas in order to hit the city itself.
Unfortunately, with the war stretching Britannian military presence in Area 11 to its limits, Tokyo was undermanned. Shibukawa, being the easternmost entrance and the farthest from the Viceroy's Palace around which the military forces centered their defenses, became a glaring weak point. The only reason it hadn't been attacked yet by the Federation troops in Nakanojo was the Glastonbury's impressive appearance dominating the skyline and its assortment of weaponry. With that gone…
A loud, wailing emanated from the city all of a sudden, rising then falling in warning to its residents.
"Air raid!" someone screamed as bombers passed overhead and went straight for the city.
Gunfire erupted all around the camp. The Captain snarled, drawing his sidearm smoothly before firing into the tree line where the enemy hid.
He got three shots off before a bullet smashed into his head.
"Yes, Your Highness. I will do as you ask. Gottwald out." Villetta heard as she barged into the room of her superior.
'What the hell are you up to Jeremiah!" she snarled.
Jeremiah frowned. "Is something the matter?"
"I just got back from the front. Care to explain why we're leaving behind Elevens in Sendai?"
"The Prince has his reasons."
"What possible reason could there be! You just had my men bleed to save these wretches and now you're leaving them behind! I might not care a whole lot for them, but what I do care about is you throwing away the efforts of my men!" Her hands gripped the edges of his desk. "Tell me, was all we did these past few weeks meaningless?"
"Don't worry, Villetta. There is a plan in place." Gottwald looked her directly in the eye. "Trust in the Prince."
"How can I?" she said bitterly. "How can I trust someone who throws away the lives of my men without blinking?"
"He deserves the benefit of the doubt. He hasn't failed yet."
"He's been in one war, Jeremiah. One!" Villetta shouted. It came out harsher than she had expected. "That hardly certifies him as a capable commander."
"He's a general." Jeremiah defended.
"A brigadier general," Villetta stressed. "Besides, he's a prince. How hard could it be to climb up the ranks? Hell, he skipped ranks twice, once in North Africa, once after."
Gottwald frowned at her. "Doesn't that indicate talent, or at the very least competence?"
"Or it could be just blatant favoritism. There's always more than one way of looking at things."
"If you can't trust in the Prince, then at least trust in me. I know what he's doing."
"But you can't tell me anyways." Villetta pointed out.
Gottwald's silence was answer enough.
"Fine," she sighed, "just because we've worked together for years. But what's this about Salvador being sent out west?"
"Oh that. Our scouts reported a small flanking force was sent out recently. Salvador will be intercepting them."
"Without knightmare support? Out in the open?" Jeremiah bobbed his head. "That's bloody suicide." she said dryly.
"Oh, I don't know about that." Jeremiah smirked. "You've read the Prince's work, I believe? The Knightmare Independent General Strategy aka the KINGS Doctrine?"
She had. She hated it too. The idea that a modern day war could be fought and won without the KMFs was heresy to her...even if the rational side of her knew the Prince's words made sense.
"It's time to test his idea."
The last of Hokkaido's snow steadily thinned under their boots.
"Hold." Wolfe's arm made a perfect ninety degree angle. His eyes, having a hawk-like quality to them, scanned their surroundings. Towers of grey dominated the distant skyline. Even in the forest Sapporo's skyscrapers were visible. "We'll wait for Kage to return here."
The men, garbed in a splattering of greens and browns that blended easily with the scenery, went to work quickly, forming a makeshift perimeter. For some, it meant climbing up the trees to gain a vantage point. For others, looking for suitable cover was enough.
Diethard watched all this dispassionately.
In total, there were thirteen men and women in their party, not including their resident ninja. Another two groups of similar size were approaching Sapporo from different directions. Thirty six soldiers, three shinobi and one reporter – this was the mighty Britannian raiding force that would take Sapporo (and its thousand plus strong garrison) by storm.
"This is suicide." Diethard mumbled, shoving jittery hands into his pockets. "I didn't sign up to die."
It wasn't quite the frontlines, Diethard supposed, but somehow that seemed to make it all the more dangerous.
"Don't let the others hear you say that." Rawlins, the sniper on Wolfe's team, said. "They'd shoot you. Hey, any chance you brought a smoke?"
Diethard drew out a white carton filled with the nicotine sticks and tossed it at the easy-going soldier in one smooth motion. "Help yourself."
Rawlins snatched it from the air easily, nodding his thanks.
"You think so too right?" Diethard asked.
Rawlins shrugged, peering into his scoped rifle with one eye and sweeping the distance with his magnified sight. "I'd tell you the sky was yellow for a smoke."
"What do you think about this? Be honest."
"I think that it's a typical plan for the Prince. Overcoming overwhelming odds with plans just crazy enough to work are a vi Britannia specialty, if experience has taught me anything." He made a few adjustments to his MARU, changing the length and switching the parts of his gun. "Most of us here have been with the Prince since his first days in the military. We've seen him work miracles before."
"Any of those miracles happen to be forty people taking over a city?" Diethard asked, torn between sarcasm and curiosity. He had a passing understanding of the exploits of the People's Prince – there was hardly a soul in the Empire who didn't after news agencies kept reporting his victory in North Africa – but to hear it coming from a direct source was something else.
"Well, no." Rawlins admitted. "Which will make it all the more impressive when we pull this off."
There it was again, the unshakeable conviction, the blind faith and the certainty of victory present in each of the soldiers he had spoken to thus far. These men were willing to storm the gates of hell for the Prince and he wasn't even here to lead the charge! What kind of man inspired such loyalty in just a few months?
Would he be the next Emperor? Diethard wasn't sure, at least, not yet. But Lelouch would be an interesting person to follow in the coming years, his gut was telling him. It would make for quite the story – and all good stories needed a chronicler.
Diethard was determined to be that chronicler. It made working for the Prince and all the risks attached bearable.
July 22, 2018 a.t.b.
Warehouse 11
"Don't you have a war to run?" C.C. asked.
"The war is already won." Lelouch answered, taking a sip of his drink. "My enemies just don't know it yet."
C.C. inclined her head towards the TV, where the media was in an uproar over the siege of Tokyo. "Really? They seem to think otherwise."
Lelouch shrugged in a "what can you do" fashion. "The people are often limited by the here and now. I think in the long term. The Federation's attempt to take Tokyo has sealed their defeat."
"Are you so sure about that? You know it's not too late for me to bestow a Geass under your command. Even if you can't have one anymore, a loyal subordinate of yours would be enough."
"Ah, but you've already given me one. Remember Sayoko?"
C.C. frowned. "She told you about that?"
Lelouch scoffed. "Of course she did. While rash of her to accept, I can't fault her loyalty. She'll just have to exercise restraint in usage."
C.C. snarled, the frustration bubbling inside her overflowing. This man was infuriatingly stubborn! "What is the point of Geass if you waste it!"
"What is the point of winning if you cheat?" Lelouch retorted.
"Hah! As if you're one to care about morals and fair play. I know your type, Lelouch vi Britannia. Men like you don't care what methods are used, so long as you win in the end. The ends justify the means, doesn't it?"
"True." Lelouch conceded, seemingly unperturbed by her accusation. "But Geass is an oddity and I hate to use wildcards I don't fully understand. Victory brought about by skill instead of luck is so much more sweeter to savor."
"You know that your enemies in the Empire have Geass too right?"
"I've surmised as much."
"Yet you still refuse to use it."
"Correct."
The sound of clinking metal was as oppressive as the cuffs that bound her hand. "How far do you think you can go without my power?" she huffed at the Prince.
Purple met amber in a silent, violent clash of wills. Lelouch leaned into his chair, the small smile that twisted his lips gave him a look of arrogance.
Arrogance and superiority.
"Far enough."
"The first half of the war was marked by constant retreats. The second half was marked by constant fighting." – General Andreas Darlton
"Normal? Wars aren't normal by definition, especially when Lelouch is involved." – Suzaku Kururugi
"Geass is a function of 'k', 't', 'a', 'u', and 'c' where 't' is total time elapsed since acquiring Geass, 'a' is the average length of each activation, and 'u' is the average number of activations per day. 'C' would be the consecutive number of uses without adequate rest in between. 'K' would be the hereto undetermined critical number. Assuming this to be the case, we can roughly estimate her Geass' Maturity Date with the equation G equals to k all over t, in terms of days, plus a times u plus c cubed." –Lloyd Asplund's Theoretical Computation on Kallen Kozuki's Geass Maturity Rate [f(G)=k/(t+(a*u)+c^3]
AN: Chapter 14. This version has not been beta-ed, yet, unfortunately, because my beta (ajpa) is busy. It's more or less done though and there won't be anything significant (plot-wise) that will change when it is revised.
Also, a big thanks to Keytchtee for his help regarding the Argyl's Railgun Weaponry (and others).
Regarding the "Church Scene" - I'm not really trying to bash a religion or anything (I'm a Christian myself), but one cannot ignore the effects that a state religion can have and how it can be used to manipulate the masses to support a war.
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