Chapter 38: For Duty and Honor
Recap: Recap: Lelouch is at the Purists party when they hear of an imminent attack on Area Eleven.
While Britannia has successfully conquered much of the globe, the rapid expansion has introduced crippling structural weaknesses in the Britannian military. For years, various members of the military have voiced concerns over insufficient military training, an overreliance on nepotism, and a lack of officers. These concerns have been ignored in favor of expanding the knightmare pathetic showing of Britannian troops in the Typhoon Invasion of 2017 is merely a microcosm of what afflicts Britannia at large: an unnecessarily rigid military structure and a needlessly hostile colonial policy. Yet despite the crippling nature of these freshly revealed flaws, little discussion has occurred. Furthermore, addressing these issues could alleviate many of the gripes plaguing our military, which are mostly likely symptoms of larger problems.
Contrary to the common public assumption, the invasion was not an unforeseeable event, nor was it even a surprising one. A careful review of local reports reveals that three intelligence officers had attempted to warn General Rottwin of the Fukuoka Base base, only to be dismissed. They had concrete reports of increased military activity 100 miles off the coast, right by the Chinese controlled territory of Busan. More vague reports were filed throughout Area Eleven as well as Area Nine and Twelve. While none claimed to have actionable evidence, taken together, the reports create a disturbing and clear pattern. The most common reason for dismissal was a belief that the Elevens were incapable of the planning required. While there were those up the chain of command who believed the Elevens, especially with foreign aid, were a credible threat, a strict adherence to the chain of command meant all failed to receive such reports, as they were stalled by lower ranking officers.
—Winter Final Essay, Ohdran Calhope, Imperial Academy
712th Division Base, Tokyo
After weeks of work, Alex had finally sorted through the hundreds of thousands OSI files and removed any evidence of Nunnally's involvement. A few stacks were prepped and loaded in the truck for Art and Lelouch's later perusal. Within, countless of nobles' treasons and corruption was evident.
When they were done, the files would be returned to the OSI, and only Lelouch and the Emperor would know the full extent of what happened to this particular cell.
Alex peeked through the fringe of his air, a distant panic closing in. Surely he had misheard."Lelouch isn't here?"
Roy glowered at him from across the desk. "He's occupied. Something you would perhaps know if you hadn't abused our trust. Do you have any idea how furious Lelouch was at your little trick?"
Alex's shoulder rose. Oh, he had a pretty good idea. Lelouch had never been that cold to him... only to enemies.
"I messed up. I'm sorry."
Snorting, Roy picked up another file. "I am sure Art will have some use for you."
"You're talking?"
"You left me to deal with either him or York. Given the latter undermined my authority, I would rather deal with Art, regardless of how I personally despise them both."
"I need to talk to Lelouch," Alex tried again. "It's important."
"He's not here. Anything you would say to him, you can share with me as well. That is my job after all."
But what Alex needed to say concerned Lelouch more than it did Zero. He had already betrayed Lelouch's trust; he wouldn't do it again by sharing something more private in nature.
"Where's York?" he asked hesitantly, moving onto the second most important task on his list.
Roy rolled his eyes and grabbed a small notepad to scribble down a room number. "Here. Art is the one you will be reporting to though. Lelouch stripped him of his authority."
"Thank you, sir." Alex saluted, then darted out of the room.
York had been moved to a tiny office without a single window. The light above flickered, making it feel more like a cell than a homely room. To combat the gloomy aura, York had dragged two small armchairs into the corner and between them rested a small glass table.
"Alex," York interrupted from the doorway. "Why are you here?"
"I figured out Lelouch was in town. He would only be more upset if he learned without me telling him."
"You just missed him," York said, cracking his back. "Going to rain tonight."
"Yeah. Roy told me." Alex collapsed in the armchair. "I know you are upset. That we need someone in the OSI to watch out for Lelouch, but there really wasn't anything. Maybe some of them don't like him, but nothing enough to risk charges of treason. I'm more useful here."
"That is not your call to make." York dropped into the opposing seat, donning a concerned expression. "Are you really going to put Lelouch's safety at risk for your childish desires? Boredom and homesickness. You should be beyond those now."
Alex winced. Had he made the right call involving Lelouch instead of trying to rescue Nunnally himself. Or had he called Lelouch because he missed him? Because he was his friend.
York sighed and placed a comforting hand on his knee. "This is my fault. I thought you were ready, but I have faith you will do better next time. You only need to remember your purpose."
"Of course." On shaky legs, Alex rose and grabbed the tea set from York's desk. In the bottom right drawer, he found his teacher's favorite loose-leaf tea. The canister was nearly empty. He calmed the nervous tremor in his hand and waited for the water to boil. "I promise, I will do better next time."
"Did you learn something at least?" York asked gently.
"Besides your terrifying reputation?"
"I'd have thought that to be obvious."
Alex chuckled. "Apparently, there's a running challenge to pick Lelouch's pocket. They're very pissed at their continuous failure."
"You trained him well," York teased as Alex turned off the kettle and waited for the water to fall the previous degrees needed to make the tea taste perfect. "It is a shame that his position doesn't allow him to use his talents to their full potential, but you can still help cultivate them. They might very well save his life one day."
"Yes, sir." His heart pounded in his ears as he poured the tea. Carrying the two cups over, he wrestled it back under control. "I hope it is to your liking."
Reaching for the cup, York snorted. "I trust you. Your tea making skills are more than adequate, especially in comparison to a certain someone."
Unbidden, warmth flooded his chest, and Alex ducked his tea. He stared at his cup, watching the gentle steam curl as it rose in the air. He took a tentative sip. "Is it... bad that I failed my mission?"
York set down his cup and his gaze bore into him uncomfortably. "Is that what has you in such a twist? Drink up. Letting your anxieties rule you will only lead to more trouble down the road."
"But—"
York took a long sip. "It's unideal. Officially, Emperor Charles created the OSI when he rose to power to stabilize the Empire. While true, it ignores that it simply rolled various organizations together. Some of them were His Majesty's personal forces, others were the remnants of organizations from before the Emblem of Blood, and a large number of us were former security forces or criminal groups."
"What about yourself?" Alex asked cautiously, surprised at their sudden detour into history. York had always insinuated it was a waste of time for Alex to concern himself with such matters.
"I was an independent contractor with quite a reputation in the right circles when the OSI came knocking for recruitment." He took another sip, his eyes distant. "A name is rather meaningless. It's supposed to be an identity, but it's only what others define us as. I've changed names so many times, I doubt even my file contains each one. Yet, even when leaving an identity behind, people choose a name. Perhaps it is a reminder of humanity, but then what does it say about those who forgo conventional names, human names?"
"Like 'cat' or something?" Alex asked.
York shook his head. "It's bugged me for so long. And it's not just one. Sometimes, I wonder if I had chosen differently if I would have the answers I sought, or if I would be dead. That is perhaps my fateful flaw. I was always curious, poking my nose where it didn't belong, and for a while the OSI focused my interest on enemies of Britannia, but I still kept digging."
Frowning, Alex leaned forward. "Is there something... wrong with the OSI?"
"Like the torture?" York said dryly, raising an eyebrow. "Don't fall for Lelouch's ridiculous moral notions. Fear is what keeps people in line. Fear was what Britannia needed in the early days. A few extravagant deaths mean nothing when it holds back mindless slaughter. Have you ever wondered why purple eyes are associated with the nobility?"
"Genetics?" Alex suggested.
"But then you have Empress Marianne, a commoner. It's such a rare color these days, vivid purple. And with the number of bastards Emperor Oliver sired, it should be quite prevalent. It's actually rather common in the EU." Leaning back, York stretched his arms. "Emperor Brandon once rode into a city. His soldiers went door to door, dragging everyone with purple eyes into the streets. Then the soldiers opened fire. Maybe he was looking to eliminate other surprise survivors of the royal family, especially with Emperor Charles making such a fuss, but there was some mysticism to it. And then years later, I find those strange robed men in the upper ranks of the OSI."
"Is that why you noticed Lelouch first?" Alex asked quietly.
"Besides his essays spouting treason?" York abruptly stood, stumbling slightly. He took a few steps to his desk and rummaged through his drawers before suddenly gasping and sinking to the ground. "Alex, what did you do?"
He swallowed, nervously retreating behind the armchair.
"You, idiot," York hissed, trying to stand again.
Alex took a half instinctive step forward to help him before catching himself. This was what he wanted, had planned. He had played his role perfectly. York hadn't been suspicious at all.
York sank to the ground. "How much longer?"
Checking his watch, Alex pressed his lips together.
"Damn it! You foolish boy. Have you forgotten your place? You would be nothing without me. Why?"
"You had me betray Lelouch," Alex said shakily.
York laughed. "And you think this helps? You already hurt him. Killing me won't change anything. You left him alone with me and Art. Of course the bastard immediately began twisting the situation to his advantage. He even has Fadiman on his side now. He listens to the man who tortured Lelouch."
"You did—you did the same."
"That was barely anything. I had no desire to make him suffer. He needed to learn, to stop hiding from who he was. And now look at him, he is glorious. He will be glorious as long as treacherous vipers don't take him down before. Your only job was to protect him, and you couldn't even manage that. Without me, you'll fail."
Alex squeezed his eyes shut. He only wanted to help.
"The antidote, now."
"You hurt him," Alex protested.
"You hurt him more. He never had to submit. He did it all for your sake. He was devastated when you announced you were joining the OSI. You betrayed him then too. It's always about your own self-interest because how else could a pathetic street rat be anything more. Lelouch is a prince. You're not even fit to breathe the same air as him. The least you could do was protect him and find the faction in the OSI plotting his death. But no, you're here, in a stupid quest for vengeance. I should have never wasted my time on you."
Because Lelouch would have been the better student. Because it had been Lelouch who York wanted, and he simply settled for Alex. Lelouch was the one destined for greatness; Alex was nothing.
His hand sank into his pocket, toying with the glass vial. Would they really be better off without York? He was the only one who ever believed in him. Lelouch didn't. Otherwise, he would have let Alex partake in more risky yet necessary missions. Roy hadn't been able to believe that Alex was an OSI agent. They all saw him as the orphan child.
Under York, Alex could grow. Without him, he would never become anything more.
York's expression pinched, and he doubled over, clutching his stomach. Then he retched. The vomit spread across the floor slowly, undigested chunks from lunch floating within.
"I'm sorry," Alex whispered.
"You can't be," York gasped, "when you withhold the antidote."
"I want to give it to you," Alex admitted. "But you're right; I already betrayed Lelouch. I won't be selfish and do it again."
"Are you—" York retched on the floor again, mindless of the mess he was in. His eyes flicked back and forth, no longer attuned to reality.
Alex sank to the ground and buried his head in his knees. "I'm sorry."
"Then fix it," York rasped.
"I can't," Alex mumbled.
York twisted over, his arm flailing as he pulled open a drawer. His strength failed him, and he collapsed on the ground, only his fingers twitching.
Tentatively, Alex approached. He stared down at the man who had guided him for so long. "I'm sorry," he whispered again.
York's eyes fluttered, and he stared at him coldly. His arm snapped up, grabbing the hem of Alex's pants, and he whispered weakly, "Tell Lelouch..."
"Lelouch already knows," Alex said dully. "He said your use had come to an end."
York's eyes widened. "Perhaps there's hope yet. Find Project Odin and be too..." His eyes drifted shut with a final murmur of, "All hail Britannia."
His hand relaxed, revealing a small nondescript key.
Alex knelt and rested two fingers on the side of his neck. Strangely, York smiled in death, as if content at long last. It felt like a defeat.
The task was done, and Alex stood, taking five steps away from the cooling corpse, unsure of what to do next. A shiver ran down his spine and on an icy breeze, he could've sworn he heard the faint cry of, "All Hail Lelouch."
His legs buckled beneath him, and he collapsed against the door, breaking into sobs.
712th Division Base, Tokyo, Area Eleven
Roy woke to the howling wind and pounding on his door. A burst of panic pushed him out of bed, and he yanked open the door to stare at a disheveled Art with dark circles beneath his eyes. He shoved a stack of papers at him.
"The military has been active in Busan."
"What?" he asked weakly, flipping through the papers.
"Alex returned yesterday with the first half of the OSI files. We're making copies. They noted that two former high ranking Japanese officials were making plans to leave the country, and that various pegged French spies were preparing as well. Also, the number of EU smugglers has increased as of late, but most of them have been hugging the coast of India. They were carrying heavy cargo."
"I will write a report to notify Prince Clovis of a possible invasion," Roy said tiredly. The presence of the EU complicated matters. He never thought they would ally with the Chinese. They believed in their democracy far too much and had pledged to support India's bid for independence.
"My contact in Busan said Atsushi Sawasaki, the former Chief Cabinet Secretary of Japan, arrived late last night."
For a moment, Roy considered reading Art into their little office meetings, then immediately discarded the idea. None of them could be sure where his true loyalties lay, and while he was preferable to York, Lelouch would be better off with such an immediate and historical threat to his safety removed.
He pinched his nose, wondering at the validity of the information. People became bold in Lelouch's absence. Did Art have anything to gain by faking an invasion? If they alerted Prince Clovis over nothing, they would be ridiculed in the press, making their job infinitely harder.
"I'll look at this," Roy assured. He would pass it to York and allow the two vipers to tear at each other's throats to uncover mistakes in their intelligence works. "Anything else?"
"I found York dead in his office when I went to ask for his opinion." Art nodded at the papers in his hand. His shoulders sank. "You should talk to Alex."
Or was this a cover for Art finally eliminating his competition, leaving Lelouch entirely reliant on him for intelligence with Alex as the scapegoat.
"What are you saying?" Roy growled.
"That Alex needs a friend. It doesn't matter if he acted on his own. York was the closest thing Alex had to a father here." Art stepped back, crossing his arms. "If I have to guess, we have about three hours until sunrise and military ships begin entering Britannian waters. The bombers will follow shortly with the morning light, targeting the airports. They'll try to seize one or two for their own use. The alcohol will be just hitting the nobles in the Mainland, and Clovis and his ilk will be quite hungover. Today is the most opportune time. Alex needs to be operational."
Roy rubbed his temples and rubbed his old, aching gunshot wound. Today was the most opportune time for an invasion.
"We're only authorized to operate in the Greater Tokyo area," Roy noted. "I don't even know if I can rouse Prince Clovis on time to ask for our mandate to be expanded."
Art winced. "I know. Just call in a favor or something. Get a few more boats patrolling the water."
There really was no option. He had to trust him. Lelouch would never forgive him if a massacre happened under his watch.
"You reached out to the groups in charge of Shinjuku?" Roy asked.
Art's eyes widened. "Oh, shit. Would he—"
"He already did. This time he would have an actual reason. Go take Pablo and get in contact. I don't care how, but we need to negotiate to help ensure smooth evacuations if need be. Take Naoto as well. He knows the language, and if this pans out, Stadtfeld is going to be quite busy."
"Yes, sir," Art said grimly. "And the kids?"
Roy winced. "If the attack reaches Tokyo, hardly anywhere will be safe."
Shinjuku, Tokyo, Area Eleven
Loud whispers rose Suzaku and he silently crept to the main entryway, the pathway illuminated by the phone the girls had smuggled to him.
He wasn't quite sure how, but a messenger had arrived from the Black King, carrying a package from Nunnally and Euphie, containing a custom made phone. It was comforting knowing that, despite everything, they still cared. Britannians could be good.
From a small crack behind the cabinet, he retrieved the gun Ban had hidden for him. True to the messenger's words from yesterday, heavy storm winds howled viciously with the cries of thousands of dead souls. The rain was still light, pattering intermittently, but it felt like a dark ominous warning of things to come.
Nothing good ever happened at three in the morning.
"The JLF?"
Suzaku strained his ears, not daring to hope. A flash of lightning illuminated a figure in the doorway. Out of the window, a short man sprinted out into the rain, undoubtedly a spy for the various competing factions. Ban's control of the ghetto rested on a precipice, and Suzaku feared that the bloodshed that would result if one of the more bloodthirsty groups found the support needed to forcibly claim Ban's supplies.
"Are you sure about this?" Ban asked warily. "The troops have mostly been civil and assisting with aid. They keep their distance. A large-scale evacuation is untenable."
"So there are many survivors? The news has been rather unclear."
"We have been trying to reach the JLF for weeks."
"Security is tight. Kusukabe's stunt was the first concrete piece of intelligence we received. Unfortunately, it painted an even more dire picture of the situation in the ghettos. There are those in the JLF who pushed for immediate hostile retaliation as a result."
Suzaku swallowed, a treacherous hope lighting his heart. His fingers wrapped around the phone as it buzzed, and he smiled weakly at the latest message from Euphie—another complaint regarding her grounding. Her concerns were refreshingly trivial.
Taking a calming breath and focusing on the sickening weight of the gun, he silenced the phone and stumbled into the entryway as if he had just awakened.
Barely past the doorway, Tohdoh stared at him in disbelief. "Suzaku."
"Tohdoh-sensei," Suzaku croaked and panicked as his teacher crossed the distance between them and enveloped him in a hug. "Sensei?"
"I'm so sorry it took so long," he whispered. He stepped back, patting him down and tsking at the healing burns on his arms and legs. "I couldn't leave, and then I heard about Nagisa—" He fell quiet and desperately clutched him to his chest. "You're alive."
"You know him?" Ban asked warily.
Suzaku nodded stiffly, afraid that if he would say anything he would crumble and spill his precious secrets.
The phone in his pockets burned, and he knew he could never say anything about it. Tohdoh wouldn't understand. Suzaku needed it, the tantalizing proof that Britannians could care. It was a glimpse into normality. Allie was abrupt and gruff, but Euphie brimmed with innocence that Suzaku envied.
No, he wouldn't say anything.
"Ko?" Tohdoh asked hesitantly, drawing back. Behind him, Ban's eyes widened in sad understanding. "Is he back there?"
His tongue dried and Suzaku pressed his lips together, shaking his head. If only Tohdoh had arrived a little earlier.
"Oh," Tohdoh whispered, heartbroken.
And perhaps it was better this way with him presumed dead because Ko was now out of reach, but Suzaku couldn't bear seeing the clear pain on his teacher's face.
"He's with a friend," he whispered.
"A friend?" Tohdoh asked. "Can we go— No, not now. But... who?"
Suzaku hung his head. "Lelouch."
Tohdoh's fingers sunk into his shoulder, and he stooped to stare right into his eyes. "Where is Ko?"
"With Lelouch."
"What do you mean with Lelouch?" Tohdoh asked, voice rising.
"We ran into each other," Suzaku rushed to explain. "And he gave me his phone number in case I got into trouble. And then the soldiers were—" He choked, the scent of blood overpowering. "So I asked him, but people figured out who I am and then they were threatening Ko and Chino because they were close to me. And Ko got sick, and I couldn't take him to the perimeter because they might recognize me, and so I called Lelouch..."
His shoulders rose defensively as Tohdoh's silence grew.
"Lelouch promised he would take care of him," Suzaku said.
"He's a hostage!" Tohdoh snapped. "And you! Do you have any idea what a risk you took? You should have told us when you first ran into him. Your cover was blown and that wasn't important? How could you just... trust him?"
"You said to," Suzaku grumbled.
"As a last resort. You were children last time. You have no idea who he is now, or if he even will or can keep his promise. If people find out that he is my son—"
Suzaku winced. "I think Lelouch knows about you... He said that the JLF had to leave Japan if they wanted to survive."
Tohdoh paled. "How would he even know? And why?"
"Nunnally was apparently at the hotel..."
"And he wants Kusukabe dead." Tohdoh spun around, his hands clenched. "Fuck!"
Ban cleared his throat awkwardly.
With visible effort, Tohdoh calmed himself. His normally stoic mask had too many chinks and cracks as grief took its toll. "You have my sincerest gratitude for looking after my son in all but name despite his heritage."
"I'm honored to be of assistance," Ban said weakly. "For what it's worth, I think your son will be fine."
"And you know this how?"
"Suzaku here," Ban nodded to him, "took his friend to a bar I operated. He learned of certain illegal activity, but we have no evidence that he revealed what he knew. They merely had a fun night together, like a pair of regular teenage boys."
Tohdoh shot him an exasperated look. He seemed as if he wanted to say something more, but instead, in near monotone, he said, "We need to discuss business. How fast can you round up your members?"
"They're probably asleep," Ban said.
A minute later, Fumi entered with a small entourage of guards. Her aristocratic lips parted in an expression of polite surprise. "Lieutenant Colonel Tohdoh. I admit, I did not know you survived the invasion. Naturally, you adopted the Prime Minister's son."
"Fumi-san." Tohdoh bowed respectfully. "I no longer have a claim to such a rank. The Japanese military is no more."
"What brings you here?"
Tohdoh glanced at Ban. "I am afraid time is of the essence."
Ban sighed and waved them into a neighboring room with a makeshift table. A cracked chalkboard rested at the front of the room.
"I'm happy you're alive," Tohdoh whispered before walking to the front. "Yesterday, we received a transmission about the imminent invasion of Japan, headed by Sawasaki Atsushi, to restore the rightful government. The JLF has refused to grant assistance. We believe their claim to be illegitimate."
His eyes stopped on Suzaku for a moment, and he met it firmly, refusing to show weakness with two potential enemies in the room.
"Unfortunately," Tohdoh continued, "the Blood of the Samurai is most likely going to be assisting in this Chinese farce. We have concerns that Prince Clovis will presumptively seek to eliminate so-called internal threats by finishing his purge of Shinjuku, among other ghettos. The JLF will be acting defensively to protect all Japanese, but as a matter of caution, we would like to commence evacuations, with Shinjuku a priority."
"Why now?" Ban asked. "We have been trying to get outside aid for weeks."
"The division the Emperor sent has been rather immune to bribery, and we lack Kusukabe's network among the nobility that allows him to smuggle supplies and men with their shipments." He stared at them severely. "For obvious reasons, I ask that you keep this information to yourself. The last thing we want is panic."
Fumi drummed her finger on the edge of the table. "You are not only concerned about Clovis, but the Britannian citizens themselves taking retaliatory actions."
"There have already been incidents since the hotel jacking," Tohdoh said grimly. "Other cities were not as fortunate to have a defensive force concerned with Japanese safety. As far as the Britannian population is concerned at the moment, the Eleven population is primarily composed of terrorists and a threat to their personal safety and the stability of the realm. We are taking countermeasures, but they will not have the desired impact until later."
It was easy to hate the soldiers who keep them trapped inside the ghettos, like cattle to be slaughtered. But Suzaku vividly remembered the Britannian mob trying to push their way into the ghetto and how the soldiers had turned against them instead.
"Then we should fight." Fumi snorted. "The JLF's plan of somehow a peaceful reconciliation is a matter of cowardice and evidently ineffective. I hadn't realized you had an ace up your sleeves"—she nodded at Suzaku—"but it hardly matters if Britannia wipes us out."
"We are not taking action at this moment," Tohdoh said severely.
"Why the hell not?" she snapped. "I never thought you to be a coward, Tohdoh. You understand honor."
"Our mission is to first protect the people of Japan. A Chinese occupation is counter to that goal. We will not be assisting them."
"Use the confusion to strike against Britannia." Her voice became eager. "You could eliminate Clovis. No one has succeeded in assassinating royalty in recent history. It would tell Britannia that Japan is not dead."
"Do you wish to fight Zero, Fumi-san?" Tohdoh asked, deceptively calm.
She hesitated. Zero's prowess had spread wide and far. "Fine. Clovis would be inopportune, but there are other high priority targets that wouldn't call his attention. We could also gain essential assets—medicine, ammunition, food."
"Zero is already in Japan," Tohdoh interrupted. "An agent strongly believes it is only their presence which has been curbing Clovis's more extremist responses. For now, he appears to be content maintaining the status quo and presumably pursuing his favorite target—corrupt Britannian officials. Clovis's administration will unfortunately be more effective afterwards, but it is a small price to pay to escape the brunt of Zero's attention."
"So the rumors are true?" she asked.
"To the best we can confirm them. The hostage situation was resolved by Zero's people infiltrating the hotel under the guise of defecting Honoraries."
"They're not to be trusted anyway," Fumi spat. "They already betrayed Japan."
"Regardless, Zero clearly has willing assets who speak Japanese. Unlike every other Britannian general, he has shown no hesitation in using those resources. It is much better to wait for him to leave, then attack. Undoubtedly, the Emperor will soon reassign him when new trouble arises elsewhere."
She leaned back, reluctantly satisfied.
A curt knock on the door frame interrupted them. Brian stepped in, flashing an obscure hand signs.
Ban rose. "We have Britannian visitors. They say it's an emergency."
"Hostile?" Tohdoh asked, his hand drifting beneath his coat.
Brian shook his head. "They say it's urgent and... Well, you should see for yourself."
Warily, they filtered out of the room. Strategically positioned by the doorway and tarp covered windows, a small collection of Britannian soldiers waited. None of them were armed. But it was the red haired man on the right, wincing awkwardly that drew their attention: Naoto.
"Bastard," Ohgi growled. "You sold us out. I trusted you."
"Did you?" Naoto snapped. "It hardly felt like that when you started doing raids without looping me in. Or how you allowed Yoshida to constantly disparage me."
"So you went to the Brits? People died because of you."
"Yes, because I should've asked Lord Ashford first before we started poking a stick at royalty."
"What did you do, Chiba-san?" Tohdoh growled quietly, clearly afraid of using his name around Brit troops.
"Clovis was developing poison gas," Suzaku mumbled.
The last time Tohdoh had looked so exasperated was when a nine year old Lelouch had argued that the Prime Minister should be honored by him "requisitioning" his items for personal use.
"They're not interested in your group, Ohgi," Naoto said. "I'm only here to translate if difficulties should arise. I'm a doctor, not a soldier."
"I understand," Tohdoh said diplomatically before switching to English. "Why have you come here?"
A pale Brit stepped forward, speaking in a thick, strange accent. "We would like to collaborate with those in charge of the Shinjuku ghettos."
"Why the emergency?" Tohdoh challenged.
The man glanced at his companion, a strangely dark skinned man who had to be Britannian yet looked nothing like them. "It might be necessary for us to assist in evacuations."
Surprised, they focused on the strangers. Brits helping? Impossible.
The dark skinned man added, "Our commander would also like to speak to the individuals in charge to discuss further collaboration."
"That is a rather obvious trap," Tohdoh remarked.
"If we could talk in private?" the pale Brit suggested.
Lightning flashed, illuminating the soldiers waiting outside the building and the clear rifles on their back. They hardly had a choice, and Suzaku couldn't help but glare at Naoto, even if he had never known about this place.
Ban led them back into the room, turning to Brian. "Why do you bring them?"
Brian shrugged. "They say there's an invasion coming."
"Perhaps introductions are in order?" the pale man asked. "I'm Art. I am a consultant with the 712th division. I asked Naoto to be here, who you are already acquainted with, because of his expertise in Japanese, which I'm unfortunately lacking."
The dark skinned man inclined his head. "I'm Pablo Vegas and in charge of logistics. I had been hoping to meet with your group for some time to discuss aid and supplies although the matter is more serious now."
Around the table, everyone introduced themselves by only their last names, with only Ban and Tohdoh hanging.
Finally, Tohdoh spoke. "I'm with the JLF, Tohdoh."
The Brits' eyes widened, but didn't react otherwise.
"Ban Katsuro," Ban finally answered. He glared at them, as if to challenge his words.
Art grimaced. "We have received intelligence of a possible imminent invasion. While we have yet to confirm this information, we are acting with utmost prudence. There is concern that the Japanese population will assist and that Britannians will retaliate. In the event of an invasion, our troops will be withdrawn, effectively breaking the perimeter. We will be unable to provide protection."
"We don't need your protection," Fumi spat.
"The incident during the hotel jacking suggests otherwise," Art countered. His eyes flicked to Tohdoh. "If the JLF has involved itself, can we count on your support in protecting the Japanese citizens?"
"We are a terrorist organization," Tohdoh pointed out dryly.
"We are aware, but unlike the Blood of the Samurai, your group has mainly been concerned with humanitarian aid. This is not a long term arrangement, but in a time of crisis accommodations can be made."
"I would need to speak with my superiors," Tohdoh lied, his face completely blank.
"Naturally." Art inclined his head. "Our commander would like to discuss the situation with you beforehand to ensure clear communication." His gaze shifted to Ban. "You as well."
Ban winced, unusually calm. "Of course."
"And I walk into a trap?"
Art raised his hands soothingly. "We have supply logistics to discuss with the group here. We will remain here as collateral. I have no doubt they will kill us if you do not return safely."
Vegas glared at his partner before his face smoothed over. "The soldiers accompanying us are willing to surrender their weapons in return as well."
"I will have to refuse," Tohdoh finally said. "We are well aware of the callous attitude Britannians take to lives, especially those of Numbers. You're not a pure Britannian?"
Vegas flinched. "No. I'm a Six."
"Why send a Six?" Tohdoh asked. "And a half-Eleven?"
Vegas inhaled. "Because I am in charge of our logistics. I could have sent a subordinate, but due to the delicate nature of this arrangement, I feared a matter of importance would be missed. Regardless, they would have been a Six themselves."
"A Number? In the role of an officer?"
"Our division is run differently." Vegas shrugged. "There has been a push in recent years for the advancement of Number rights, and we play a large part in that by proving our capabilities. Brits are a minority in the division. I full heartedly believe that our commander means no harm although I'm sure he would prefer to speak to Ban as well because of his role in running the ghettos during this time of crisis."
"What do you want to know?" Art asked. "I cannot promise whether we can answer your question, but we will answer those we can honestly."
Tohdoh pursed his lips. "What is your deal? A civilian contractor sounds like bullshit, especially when sending them to negotiate with a potential terrorist group."
Art smiled with too many teeth. "You're right. You could say I am serving out a life sentence within the division for the crime of terrorism among other things."
Suzaku gaped. A Brit turning against his own people? It was impossible. Even Lelouch, in the end, continued to serve loyally.
"Not all Britannians agree with the way things are run," Art added lightly, as if he was discussing his favorite type of tea.
"So you betrayed your cause," Tohdoh said.
"I discovered that mass civilian deaths and the torture of children did not appeal to me," Art said coldly. "Our commander made a very good argument for reform, and I intend to see that he keeps that promise. That is what the JLF wants, right? You want equal standing under Britannian law and the right to identify as Japanese."
"The division is dedicated to ending the Number system," Vegas added. "Through a legal loophole, our members are also allowed to continue speaking their native language and practice cultural customs. It is in fact encouraged."
Tohdoh looked down at the table, his eyes drawn together in deep thought. "Very well, I accept your proposal. I will be armed, and five of my men will accompany me. You two will remain here as hostages for my safe return."
Viceroy Palace, Tokyo
Leila shook her head at the absurdity of the alcohol drenched control room. General Bartley was drunk and passed out in his quarters. Prince Clovis, after painfully flirting with her and attempting to ply her with alcohol, had drunkenly retired to his room with three separate ladies on his arm. She would be surprised if he got up before noon.
If she wanted to, she could cripple all of Area Eleven right now.
The other officers had dumped their work on their youngest member before leaving to enjoy the festivities. The young woman had curled up in a corner of the room, clutching a bottle of wine.
Unfortunately, Leila was true to her word. She could cripple Area Eleven, but Britannia would merely retake the island within a week. In the time between, countless civilians would die. Prince Lelouch had been quite right in his assessment that she wouldn't let that transpire.
So here she was, an EU agent with the perfect opportunity for sabotage, acting the part of the ever diligent Britannian soldier.
She glanced at the passed out officer again in disgust. How could Britannia run with such blatant incompetency? It was unfathomable. Back home, they would have all been court-martialed for thinking of such brazen actions. But because they were all nobles, they could ignore their duty and continue on with a mild slap on the wrist at most.
She despised them. It was an insult to their subordinate who would inevitably shoulder the fallout.
For a moment, she wondered if Lelouch would also allow his subordinates to act as such. He was different in so many critical ways. No, she decided. From what she had heard of general Cornelia, she ran a tight ship. Competent Britannians were merely a minority. Lelouch was terrifying in his casual competency.
Her phone buzzed, and she pulled it out, frowning at the unknown number. She let it go to voicemail and silently cursed how clunk the Brit devices were compared to the ones back home. She missed her sleek phone. The phone buzzed again.
"Leila Breisgau?" an unfamiliar male voice asked, burdened by clear fatigue.
"Yes. Who is this?" she asked hesitantly.
"Check the radio. There is an urgent message."
The line disconnected.
Disbelieving, she stared at the phone. That was most unusual, even by Britannian standards. Still, she made her way to the console and grimaced at the urgent communication request for Prince Clovis and General Bartley.
She pulled on the headphones and opened a channel. "Major Breisgau speaking. Prince Clovis and General Bartley are currently indisposed."
The same voice from earlier replied, "Can you rouse them?"
She grimaced, remembering the copious amount of alcohol consumed the evening before. "I doubt they will be in any condition to be of help."
"Who is the highest ranking officer on duty then?"
The room was empty. "That would be me?"
"I need multiple patrols in the water near Fukuoka. Have them report back at regular intervals and sound the alarm if one goes silent."
She bit her lip, unsure. "Who are you?"
"I work for Zero. Prince Lelouch suggested you could be of some aid in the event of a Chinese invasion."
Her heart jumped to her throat. "Is that—"
"We are unsure at this time. Our intelligence network has picked up disturbing hints, but we lack the authorization to act beyond Tokyo. We need proof, not rumors."
"Yes, sir," she said, spinning around to another outdated terminal to input the orders. She frowned as an urgent report from Nagasaki came in, suggesting unusual activity in the water. "I think you should be on alert, just in case."
Disconnecting, she rushed to the officer on the ground and shook her awake. Blearily, she blinked at her. "What?"
"We might be invaded. Man the comms. I'm going to wake up Prince Clovis."
The drunken haze faded, and an iron grip clamped around her arm. "Are you insane? Even if you are his mistress, he will kill you if you disturb him."
She ripped her arm free. "I don't care. We need him."
"Do you even have proof?" She scoffed. "They're a bunch of savages anyway. What are they going to do?"
"Just do your job," Leila spat and sprinted out of the room. She really hoped Prince Clovis liked her enough to forgive her for intruding on him so abruptly, but if she was going to die, she would do it in the line of duty, defending others.
712th Division Base, Tokyo, Area Eleven
Roy took a minute to curse every Britannian saint he knew of, and then switched to foreign deities to cover his bases. Why did Lelouch have to be waylaid on a day like this? He could at least march right into the Viceroy's Palace and take control. Instead, Roy needed to rely on intermediaries and cross his fingers that the French girl Lelouch mentioned wouldn't do the natural thing and deliver them to the invaders on a silver platter.
Leila Breisgau. He hoped that the Europeans' natural animosity to the Chinese would keep her loyal for now. If she learned that there were European forces—as they suspected—mixed in, the situation would change.
Then the minute was over, and Roy was rushing out of the room, leafing through various reports. Around him, soldiers rushed to their machines. He even had their extra knightmare frames on standby. Whatever happened, they could not lose Tokyo.
"Get up," Roy barked as he pushed his way into Alex's quarters.
The light was already on, and Alex was dressed, curled up in the corner. He glanced up and blinked.
"I need you to take over communications," Roy said.
Alex shook his head. "You shouldn't—"
"I don't care. We have a possible invasion, and you will do your actual job."
Alex swallowed. "Yes, sir."
Roy turned and paused in the doorway. "Did Lelouch order you to..."
"Yes," Alex whispered. "I betrayed him."
Lelouch or York?
"Alex..." He sighed. "I won't lie. I am angry, but you're also my friend. Friends trust each other, rely on each other... talk to each other. As your friend, are you okay?"
"Yes," Alex said, the lie painfully obvious despite his bright smile and confident posture. "You don't have to worry. No one will take Area Eleven with us here."
Roy frowned and rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. "For what it is worth, I'm glad York is dead. He hurt Lelouch."
For a moment the mask cracked, revealing the unrepentant fury and grief beneath.
"It's my job," Alex said dully.
Shinjuku, Tokyo, Area Eleven
"He's a friend of Lelouch," Naoto whispered. "Suzaku Kururugi. I saw them together once."
"Roy's blood pressure will go through the roof when he finds out," Pablo muttered.
Fumi whispered something to the boy, and he paled dramatically. She bowed to him politely before slowly approaching them.
"Ma'am," Naoto greeted in English. He had no interest in loyalties being called into doubt if he conversed in Japanese outside of translation purposes. His family's safety depended on this.
"A half-breed, huh?" she asked.
Pablo's eyes narrowed and he pushed his way between them. "I think we should all try to be civil."
"An unfair demand given the proverbial gun to our head. But you're a number yourself. You do not even have the luxury he had to disguise himself as an average Britannian citizen, yet you kiss the boots of your oppressor."
"Because I choose to live." Pablo raised his voice, allowing it to carry easily through the room and to whoever was eavesdropping outside in the rain. "We have proved that Numbers are useful to the Empire. In return, Britannia passed a law which opens up citizenship to Honorary Britannians."
Fumi reeled back, and Naoto frowned contemplatively, not having heard of such legislation. It had to be Prince Lelouch's work, and if he did have something as such in the work, no wonder he was pushing for Naoto to reclaim his position as the family's heir and publicly claim his heritage. Naoto would be the poster boy for integration. He studied Pablo's back, damp from the rain; he would be as well.
"Nonsense," Fumi spat. "Britannia would never—"
Art coughed gently. "It's going into effect next September. You shouldn't be so surprised. Integration of the Numbers has been a political goal of various groups over the years."
Pablo crossed his arms. "Compared to Area Six, you have it easy."
"Excuse me?" she spat.
"There are relief charities which provide enough food to stave off starvation." Pablo chuckled. "You judge me, but you've seen peace and freedom. I've watched people starve to death all my life. Sakuradite makes Area Eleven valuable. In Area Six, we flee the cities. Nobles plot how to eradicate the remaining Sixes, because any Six is a treasonous one, otherwise they would've become an Honorary Britannian. Unlike in Area Eleven, the only way to become an Honorary Britannian is through military service."
Naoto averted his eyes. He would prefer to say he hadn't known, but that wasn't true. Before the invasion, he had listened to his father and mother discuss the Numbers countless times. They weren't malicious, just apathetic.
"So you condemn us?" Ohgi asked, and Naoto's eyes trailed to his shoulder, raised awkwardly without an arm. Another casualty in the fight against Britannia, a fight which Naoto had abandoned.
"No. Our commander can afford to assist you and treat you as humans because you'll never succeed as you are now."
Fumi snarled. "Just because your lot gave up—"
"You misunderstand. To regain your freedom means to fight an entire Empire. A divided house has no chance of success. You should apologize to Naoto. Because it's people like him who are required for you to have a chance of success. You chase them off without us even having to do anything."
"He's right," Art interjected. "That's in large part why the Count failed. She only sought support among the commoners, ignoring the countless Honorary Britannians who would've leapt at the opportunity. Until you demonstrate the ability to expand your base and unify, people will turn to us, where they can actually affect change."
Ohgi frowned, turning to Naoto. "What did they offer you then?"
"I'm going to claim my position as the family heir."
"But your grandparents— Everyone would know you're part Eleven."
Naoto smiled sadly. "I'd be a half-Eleven noble. I'll have the influence to actually start doing something, and I can protect Kallen too. Heckling Clovis is merely irritating. I can undermine his very power base."
"Although speaking of heckling," Art interrupted, "we're willing to pay for everything you have on Clovis."
"He was doing creepy shit," Tamaki shouted. "We thought it was poison gas, but there was a green-haired chick instead!"
Britannian Military Base, Tokyo
Tohdoh had entered the Shinjuku ghettos contrary to the advice of his subordinates. Despite now being accompanied by enemy soldiers into an enemy base, he couldn't find it in himself to regret the decision. He needed to see for himself how his family was doing.
All that was left was Suzaku. From his pained eyes, he didn't want to ask what had happened to his wife. She was dead. The story would have to end there.
He only wished that he had managed to shed his subordinates sooner and arrived in time to save Ko. Even if Prince Lelouch was the same boy as when he had left, he wouldn't be able to protect Ko if the Emperor thought him to be a useful tool against the Japanese resistance.
Distracting himself from his dark thoughts, he studied the soldiers. They were all foreign—Numbers, most likely. Yet despite the clear hostility between the Britannian man and the dark skinned man from before, there was a layer of grudging respect. These soldiers had deferred to them quietly, operating with the kind of precision that Tohdoh found was rare in the Britannian army.
Seeing the inside of their base was a tremendous intelligence opportunity, assuming he could escape intact. It was a tremendous risk, and his role as the head of the JLF made it downright foolish, yet refusing after their soft handed threats would only have made him more suspicious. As long as they thought they were only dealing with some low ranking JLF operative, he had a chance to escape this alive.
And if he didn't... His tongue ran across his false back tooth.
To his right, the Honorary Britannian who had been taking care of Suzaku looked around nervously. He was wary, yet he had complied without protest. Afterwards, they would need to talk.
A more Britannian looking fellow rushed by, but when stopped by a Number, he saluted, as if to a superior officer, before continuing on his way. This had to be the Zeroth Division. There was no way this type of cohesion between various social classes would occur otherwise. There was even a painfully young Japanese soldier among them, his posture strong and proud.
The soldiers led Tohdoh to a conference room, and he took a careful seat, not right across from the door, as that would be too confrontational, but slightly to the side where it was easily in view. If they attacked him, it would mean nothing.
The door opened and a tall, black haired man entered. For a moment, his mind conjured Prince Lelouch standing before him before the man's blunt features chased the mirage away. Prince Lelouch had bleached his hair blond anyway. Why, continued to elude him.
It wasn't entirely a ridiculous notion. Kusukabe had apparently negotiated with Prince Lelouch when Prince Clovis refused to humor him. Nunnally being involved did much to explain why.
"Good morning," the Britannian greeted. He glanced at his watch and his expression soured. "Although, I guess it is a bit early for that. Do you want some coffee?"
To be poisoned?
The man sighed and grabbed a mug of coffee from the soldier behind him before shutting the door, leaving them alone. He drank a third before sliding it across the table. "It's not poisoned."
Tohdoh warily accepted it, wincing at the scalding temperatures. He didn't trust the courtesy, especially from a Britannian, even if he had foolishly left himself alone in the room with the enemy. "Who are you?"
The man eyed him warily, his eyes unfocused as he considered some grand puzzle Tohdoh wasn't privy to. The Britannians were concerned about the imminent invasion, but why involve the JLF?
"General Roy Fadiman," he finally said, sounding rather annoyed.
"Like the shampoo brand?"
"Yes!" Fadiman said, way too pleased about something so simple. The Fadiman were a major company, one that they had considered reaching out to before their intelligence revealed that they were more patriotic than profit driven.
"I thought they were commoners though," Tohdoh said slowly.
Fadiman rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, nosediving his estimated age from early thirties to late twenties. "It's complicated. How did you know that?"
"I might not be going to the convenience store for regular shopping, but Fadiman & Jenkins is the easiest brand to get your hands on in general. The advertisements are incessant. And before the invasion, you also shipped internationally?"
His face twisted in annoyance, mumbling, "Liars. The lot of them. I knew it..."
Tohdoh raised an eyebrow. Mid-twenties?
Fadiman winced. "My apologies. It's been a longtime since someone has actually asked that. All the men swear up and down they've never heard of the brand. They think it is an absolute riot."
His annoyance felt superficial, and Tohdoh reappraised the man. Plenty of officers, especially among Britannians, wouldn't have tolerated such joking. It could suggest a lack of discipline, but from what Tohdoh had observed, they were far from that.
Zero was in the region. Why the Emperor had hidden his identity had been a matter of hot debate, but this man fit. The public would be frothing if they heard a commoner had been elevated to such a high rank, especially one as young as himself. Tohdoh would never have suspected someone so young himself, yet the pieces fit.
"How did you gain the Emperor's attention?" Tohdoh asked.
"Pardon?"
"Your rank."
Fadiman's lips twisted. He was hiding something. Another point to this being the Zeroth Division and him being the man behind the curtains. "It was a matter of luck. Met the right people at the right time and did the wrong things for the right reasons... I question how I am still alive rather frequently. Kyoshiro Tohdoh, right?"
"Yes." His fingers dung into his thigh. He should not know that.
"You're the head of the JLF." Fadiman raised his hand. "I don't really care if it's true. I can hardly report that I negotiated with the head of the JLF without arresting them."
"And what led you to this conclusion?" Tohdoh asked. Most members of the JLF were unaware. Had Kusukabe become even more of a traitor and outed him? But why would Britannian intelligence even believe him?
Fadiman hesitated again. "Prince Lelouch confessed to his suspicions when we asked for his assistance with the hostage negotiations."
How the absolute fuck had he figured it out?
"To my knowledge, Britannian intelligence is still unaware. His Highness has apparently suspected for many years, and we cannot confess to discovering this information without implicating that..."
"He lied," Tohdoh said.
Perhaps Kaguya was right to put her faith in the boy.
Prince Lelouch would be an especially dangerous opponent for their resistance. It was too easy to forget that he had spent two years in the country next to key political and military players. They had been more concerned with the guards collecting confidential information than the young child who had a personal grudge against locks.
"We suspect there's an imminent invasion of Japan with the former Japanese government officials acting as cover for the Chinese." Fadiman massaged his temples and stared down in his coffee. "We do not have the authority to act beyond Tokyo, and we do not know how Prince Clovis will retaliate when Britannian casualties start mounting. It will be at least a day until enough Britannian forces arrive to repel any invaders."
"What are you asking me to do?" Tohdoh asked warily. This felt like treason, for them both.
"We will provide you with the locations of various shelters. We ask that your forces assist in evacuating the Japanese there. They are not in the best state unfortunately, but it will allow you to avoid contact with Britannian troops which is imperative."
"You're afraid of a repeat of Shinjuku," Tohdoh said, except then it had been localized.
"Am I right to guess that Kusukabe will be colluding with them?" Fadiman groaned at his slight nod. "Then yes. While Prince Clovis does not need the justification, it'll appeal to him as a way to justify his previous blunder in Shinjuku. It has proven to be a rather unpopular decision in many circles."
"All our people will conveniently be located in a few known locations if I go through with this."
"I know. Unfortunately, we will need to trust each other."
"Yet you have all the power in this negotiation." Tohdoh finally took a sip of the coffee. "What will you give us in return?"
Fadiman smirked, a challenge in his eyes. He was the kind of man who had a goal in mind and was enjoying the challenge of bringing all the necessary pieces together. "A ship."
"I doubt one ship would suffice," Tohdoh said. He never imagined he would have the honor of watching a Britannian fully face treason for the sake of duty. It would be an honor to face him across the battlefield. "Prince Lelouch wants you to eliminate Kusukabe, doesn't he? But you're willing to let the JLF escape."
"If you leave the country, yes." Fadiman folded his hands together, resting his chin on them as he stared at him from across the table. "I can give you the shift hours and codes for one Purist warship if the JLF assists with evacuations. I can give you a merchant vessel if you agree to publicly denounce Sawasaki as not representing the interests of the Japanese."
"A competitor's ship of course."
"Of course," Fadiman said.
Tohdoh leaned back. "While I'm grateful to see a Britannian show concern, the JLF cannot abandon its people."
"We only ask for a year. It is sufficient time for us to eradicate Kusukabe and track down his noble connections. Once we move out, you're free to continue harassing whichever incompetent idiot is inevitably put in charge."
"We still cannot leave the people we swore to defend."
How much could they defend them though if Britannia turned hostile? The JLF had an army, but most hadn't faced anything beyond a few skirmishes. They lacked the training necessary, and avoiding Britannian attention prevented them from adequately training.
They had some support from the E.U., more than Tohdoh honestly expected but it was nowhere near enough.
"Consider it as an opportunity instead. Take the ships, leave Japan for a year, and actually fight Britannia."
Viceroy Palace, Area Eleven
Leila, her voice hoarse from the shouting, stumbled backwards as the door suddenly opened.
"What is this ruckus!" Prince Clovis barked. "I asked to not be disturbed!" He quieted as his gaze fell to her. "Leila?"
She shrugged off the guards hands and dropped to her knees, dutifully bowing. "Your Highness. There is an urgent military matter that I ask you to attend to."
His face soured. "Leila, I understand that you are new—"
"Your Highness, this is an urgent matter. I implore you to attend to it immediately, or at least rouse General Bartley to attend in your stead."
"It is the middle of the night," he snapped. He paused, his hand drifting under her chin and forcing him to look up at her. "Who put you up to this? It is a most cruel prank, but you are new and I am merciful enough to excuse your ignorance."
She swallowed, aware of the crowd gathering in her peripherals. "Nobody did, Your Highness. I came here of my own volition, aware that I was risking your ire."
"Perhaps I have been much too lenient with you," he said. "You should know better. You do know better. One of those nincompoops must have warned you. Who was it? Who failed to impress upon you that this is an unacceptable breach in etiquette."
There had been the officer who had tried to warn her, but Leila had refused to listen. This was more important than petty Britannian squabbling.
"No one, Your Highness."
"Well, they should have," he roared. "Who was supposed to be with you? They clearly failed if they didn't try to warn you either."
She shot to her feet and glared at the arrogant fool who sat on his petty throne, sheltered from the threats that plagued his people. She was never going to complain about corrupt EU politicians again. Even if they were beholden to corporate interests and old money, none of them would dare to ever be so flagrantly apathetic.
"It was my decision, and I am the one solely responsible for it. I refuse to let someone else bear the consequences for what I decide. I once again ask that you see to this matter. You are the Viceroy of Area Eleven. This is part of your duties."
"Guards, restrain her," he said coldly.
They forced her back down on the ground, and Clovis cradled her head between his hands. "You're confused, my dear. Come on, end this foolishness before I truly become cross with you. Although, you will already have to please me quite significantly if you want me to forget this transgression of yours."
"There is a possible imminent invasion, Your Highness," she hissed, throwing confidentiality to the wind. If he refused to take this to a private setting, then she would inform him here. "It is an urgent matter."
"And where is your proof? I haven't heard of any such ridiculous rumor. What would they even do? We're Britannia. Everyone knows it would be the height of foolishness."
She grit her teeth. "I believe this to be a credible threat."
"You're not here to make such assessments. You don't know anything of Britannian strength, only the propaganda the EU has fed you."
The propaganda the EU fed her? Did he even hear himself? Sure, there were exaggerations, but if anything, her experience in Britannia had shown that even the most unbelievable claims held far too much truth for comfort.
"I will not let innocent people die because you partied too much and have decided to ignore your job," she spat.
He backhanded her, and she gasped as she lay on the ground, her head ringing. The royal family deserved a special pit in hell. She was starting to see why General Smilas had been so unnerved by how normal Prince Lelouch was. It wasn't that he spent his time as a commoner. It was that he listened.
"You will learn your place. I should have you executed for this." He sighed and mumbled, "But then Lelouch would be upset. He always gets into such a twist over such trivial things. And the Emperor would be displeased too, I suppose. What to do with you then?"
She shifted back onto her knees and deferentially lowered her head as her heart roared in her ears. "Your Highness. I once again ask that you attend to this urgent military matter."
"I don't want to hear it!"
"My duty requires that I say it as many times as needed until it is properly addressed," she countered. "I apologize for the breach in decorum."
"If you were truly sorry you would be silent!" He spun around. "Someone get me Bartley! If I have to suffer through such inane prattle then he can at least join me in my misery."
At least he had done something at last. She quieted, catching her breath and trying to calm her racing heart as his feet stopped right before her head.
"It is commendable how far you would go to protect a friend, but it is in the end pointless. We all know you're not at fault here. Give me a name and we can all go back to sleep."
"I made the decision."
She hissed in pain as a foot slammed into her ribs.
"Who?" Prince Clovis demanded.
"I did."
She closed her eyes as more strikes descended. She should just apologize and throw her coworker under the bus. The Britannians didn't deserve her help. They were all murderous bastards anyway. Nothing was worth this. Nothing was worse, destroying whatever respect she had built with Clovis. He didn't have to ask. He had only withdrawn his most forward attempts because Kaguya had intervened and he worried that it would upset his brother.
But would Prince Lelouch even care once Prince Clovis fed him whatever sob story of the seditious European girl?
In the end, she didn't know him well enough to tell if he would fall for such a flagrant lie.
"Your Highness," interrupted Bartley. "What is this?'
"She has forgotten her place," Clovis spat. "She insists that I attend to some military situation despite it being in the middle of the night. Whatever the matter is, it can wait for a more reasonable hour."
Bartley's voice dropped to a whisper. "Your Highness, Prince Lelouch is fond of her. He suggested this role for her in the first place."
"To hell with Lelouch!" Clovis roared. "I am not his puppet. She keeps insulting me, and everyone waves his name around like a glorious flag. If he has a problem, he can say so himself instead of everyone else using his name for their own purposes. It is high time she learns the proper deference to be given to royalty. We all know Lelouch would never do it. He finds the peasants' antics amusing."
"Perhaps, we could wait until the morning when we all have a clearer head?" General Bartley suggested.
"She was the one who insisted upon doing it now!" Clovis sneered down at her. "Ten lashes should do her some good... Or do you have something to say?"
Insults rested on the tip of her tongue. Britannians were such barbarians. Whipping unwilling subjects? The EU had gotten rid of such punishments half a century ago. And the Brits claimed other countries were filled with backwater savages.
Bitterly, she swallowed the words. "Your Highness. I implore that you attend to an urgent military matter."
Footsteps clattered down the hall and her coworker rounded the corner. For a moment, their gaze met, and her eyes widened in terror at the pitiful sight. But her fellow officer continued forward, dropping to her knees while stealing concerned looks out of the corner of her eyes. "Your Highness, the Chinese armada has been spotted off the coast. They're flying under the Eleven flag. I have already contacted the neighboring Areas. We are your loyal subjects. If you believe this is a matter of no concern, we will concede to your superior wisdom."
"She won't," Clovis mumbled.
General Bartley stepped forward. "You should rest Your Highness. We will need your sharp insights later if this truly is an invasion. Prudence is a virtue. These two young ladies went to great trouble to inform you of this, so we should oblige them."
Clovis's expression cleared. "Yes. You're right of course. They have done me a service. Stand. Your conviction speaks for you positively." He smiled, all charm once again. His arm wrapped around Leila, pulling her tight.
"I'm honored, Your Highness," Leila said weakly. His mood swings could cause whiplash. "Might I suggest that you leave the palace? Your life would be in significant danger."
"Leave?" Clovis asked, affronted and a hint of danger entering his voice.
"The air sirens will be going off soon, and you won't get a wink of sleep," she pleaded, looking up at him through her eyelashes. A gentle dusting of red rose in his cheeks. "And if it is a matter of concern, think of how valiant you will be if the troops hear that you went to check upon some of them personally. It always looks good."
"Yes, I knew I liked you for a reason!"
Fukuoka Base, Area Eleven
General Rottwin fell out of bed as loud explosions ripped through the air. Seconds later, the alarm went off in the base, and he staggered to his feet, grabbing his hat as he raced out of the room. Who could possibly be foolish enough to try and launch an attack on a Britannian base?
"General!" a soldier cried as he raced forward. "We have—"
Blood erupted from his throat and he crumpled to the ground. The masked figure behind him pulled free their sword. His eyes were small and hard. Two pinpricks reflecting the emergency red lights. His comrades who had been on the ground during the invasion of Area Eleven had complained that the locals were demons, and seeing the figure before him, bathed in red light and blood, he could believe it.
His hand drifted to his side, belatedly realizing his firearm was still in his room.
"A General?" the Eleven asked in heavily accented English. He raised the sword threateningly.
Rottwin narrowed his eyes. He would never give up. Especially not to one of the insufferable Eleven savages. How had they even gotten inside the base? The Purists had been right. The Honorary Britannians were filled with spies and traitors. He should have never allowed some in his base. They had a purpose. And it was to throw them against their own people when quelling dissent.
Elevens killing Elevens was more efficient than wasting their well trained troops on such mundane affairs.
Without a weapon, Rottwin charged. The battle had not yet been lost. He had faith in his superior forces. The Elevens only had surprise on their side. They would amount to nothing.
...
He woke to bright fluorescent lights and the strange absence of sirens. His shoulders were stiff, and as he cracked his back, a sharp stab of pain ran up from his arms bound behind the chair.
An Eleven sat before him, face set in stone. Vaguely, he remembered him from the news. Kusu—something: the Eleven who had taken the hostages.
"Well, General," the Eleven mocked. "Welcome to Fukuoka Base, the first to rejoin the Empire of Japan."
Author's Note
Well, this chapter was supposed to go out earlier. Oops...
Hope everyone enjoys. Battles and fights are really not my cup of tea, yet this has somehow ballooned to an unreasonable word count.
Btw, for everyone who missed it, I posted a companion fic to Excalibur, Servant Life, which is told from the pov of Lelouch's new servants.
Until next time. :)