I don't own Code Geass

...

Detention Cell, Tokyo Settlement, Area 11, 2017

"I don't know anything!" Gilbert G. P. Guilford narrowed his eyes at the pathetic sight before him. In days gone by, Kewell Soresi had been a man of respect and honor, the right hand man of Jeremiah Gottwald. His record was spotless and his reputation as a Knight was second to none. A bright future had lain before him.

Now he was a quivering hunk of meat and blood, torn and beaten ragged. His legs and feet were twisted at obscene angles, his ribs were mostly broken, and those that weren't were badly bruised. Red marked those areas that were still dry, easy indicators of internal bleeding, while fingertips bled freely from where the nails had been ripped out. Hair littered the floor around him from where it had been torn out in tufts. He stared up at Guilford with a right eye swimming in blood, the other swollen shut. Tears made their way down his cheeks, cleaning a path down through the blood, over split lips pulled tight over shattered teeth.

A baton was held loosely in Guilford's right hand, and he smacked it casually against the open palm of the other, a sneer working its way over his face. "Proclaiming your innocence is pointless, traitor," he told Soresi, "We have the video footage proving your treachery, and thousands of people who witnessed the deed personally. Your trial, if it arrives, will be a mere formality, pending the end of our investigation. Now, you can do this the easy way and tell us what we wish to know, and we can end this here and now. Or, we can continue. Either way, we get what we want. So make this simple for everyone and talk."

"I've told you!" Kewell sobbed, "I don't know anything! I don't know why I acted in the way I did, I don't remember anything!"

Guilford smacked him across the face with the baton. "Pleading amnesia isn't going to work, Soresi. There is no escaping this. No hiding. Talk, or continue to face the Royal Family's wrath." Other than the sounds of heavy sobbing, Kewell said nothing.

Guilford sighed and rubbed his eyes, tired. They had been going at this for three days, performing the very best in interrogation techniques, practices that had broken far greater men than Kewell Soresi would ever be, and still they were no closer to the truth. Soresi had held to his story of "amnesia" that entire time, first with great bluster and pomp, then in much the same manner as now, begging for them to stop but never confessing.

That leaves us with two theories, Guilford considered. Either he's a fanatic, loyal to this 'Zero' character, or- He stopped for a moment. Or maybe he's telling the truth.

Neither thought was very appealing, and certainly would not be accepted by the Princess, at least not anytime soon. Princess Cornelia was in an absolute fury, her rage over Prince Clovis' death and the subsequent debacle of a "trial" having forced them to finish the campaign in Area 18 far more quickly and, it must be admitted, far more brutally then they had otherwise planned. Now she had taken over as Viceroy of Area 11 with two goals in mind: pacify the dissident colony of its rebel holdouts, and deliver Zero's carcass to the Emperor, preferably in the same manner as was done to Clovis.

And Guilford would help her in this, as he always had. He had not been close to Prince Clovis, and from what he had seen of the man, he had seemed a bit of a buffoon, but Princess Cornelia had cared for him, and Princess Euphemia had loved him dearly. Zero would pay for bringing such pain to the two people who mattered most in his life, and Guilford would be happy to deliver the fool's just reward.

But first we have to find him, and Soresi is our only lead on his whereabouts. "Bring the cattle brand," Guilford said, turning to one of his assistants.

"No!" Soresi screamed, already moving to get away, only to be restrained by a pair of guards standing nearby.

The attendant came forward slowly, the red hot brand in hand, already prepared for what came next. Guilford stepped back and grimaced as the screams began.

…

Governor's Palace, Tokyo Settlement, Area 11

"You allowed this nutcase to make off with Kururugi and humiliated Britannia on the world stage, so tell me Margrave Gottwald, why shouldn't I put you in a cell next to Soresi?"

"Because Your Highness, as you are well aware, I delegated the investigation into Prince Clovis' assassination to Kewell and had nothing to do with the events of that night."

"You mean aside from OK'ing the final departure to that debacle?"

"Soresi told me that he had found the Prince's killer and provided ample evidence as to this accusation-"

"Evidence that turned out to be heavily falsified and edited."

"Kewell was a man I trusted, my friend, or so I thought. I believed in him because of that. Clearly my faith was misplaced."

"That 'faith' as you call it got a man killed."

Jeremiah sighed, running his fingers over the bridge of his nose. "Your Highness, with all due respect, what would you do if your Knight came to you claiming to have a killer, a motive, an opportunity? Would you immediately second-guess him, or would you take him at his word?"

He watched the Princess bristle, outraged. "My Knight would never do something this underhanded!"

"I believed the same thing about Kewell, Your Highness," Jeremiah pointed out, "Can you now see my dilemma?"

The Princess was not placated. "A Prince of the Empire was murdered. Why did you not work on the investigation yourself?" She asked pointedly.

"Because Your Highness, frankly speaking, I haven't had the time," Jeremiah answered honestly.

The Princess stood up in a rage. "So then a regicide isn't worth your valuable time?"

Jeremiah gaped at her incredulously. "Your Highness, look at your own desk!" He said, waving at the table that divided them. "An uprising in Saitama, bombings in Hokkaido and Kyushu, riots in Hiroshima. I've been somewhat preoccupied!"

"All of which pales in comparison to the assassination of a Royal," The Princess ground out. "They can wait."

Finally, Jeremiah was angry. He all but shouted, "Your Highness, with all due respect, what do you think Prince Clovis would prefer? Stabilizing the Area in the wake of his death, or let the colony burn so that we can pursue one man?"

"That's quite enough," Andreas Darlton commanded, speaking for the first time, "You speak to a Princess of the Holy Britannian Empire. Show the proper respect you insolent swine."

Jeremiah backed away immediately, bowing his head. "Forgive me Your Highness," he said, "I'm afraid my emotions got the better of me. I will accept whatever punishment you deem appropriate."

There was a tense moment of silence. Jeremiah could feel the Princess eying him angrily, and not for the first time he felt nervous about this meeting. He marveled at his Prince's intelligence network: to know not only the identity of the new Viceroy but also the approximate time she would arrive? An excellent start, and a perfect means for Jeremiah to get ready for the coming storm.

That led to a series of facts that left him uncomfortable: if Jeremiah was not careful here his Prince's careful work would be for naught. Prince Lelouch still needed him in a position of power in order to shore up his intelligence network and manipulate Imperial colonial policy to serve his own ends. The entire plan hinged on Jeremiah being able to avoid the fate awaiting the rest of the Purist Faction.

Jeremiah couldn't help but be amazed at how quickly the group had fallen from grace; over seventy percent of its members rounded up within the space of a few days and confined in their own cells to await interrogation. The only reason Jeremiah wasn't in a cell with them was the Prince's order that he erase all of the records of the meeting that had decided Kewell's fate.

"It would seem that I have erred as well," the Princess said, snapping Jeremiah out of his thoughts. "The death of my brother and the disrespect paid to his body has caused my temper to run somewhat short. I apologize." She continued, adding, "Your conduct in these past few days has been as good as one could hope considering the circumstances. For that at least you have the gratitude of the Crown."

Once upon a time those words would have meant more to Jeremiah than the sheer relief he felt. Jeremiah straightened out of his former position and asked, "What is to happen to me, Your Highness?"

The Princess appraised him, her glare never softening, eyes sharp as she said, "I don't have any evidence that says that you were in on Soresi's betrayal. However," her eyes focused on him, promising pain, "that doesn't mean none exists. If I find any proof, any scrap, any shred of it, I will pursue it to the utmost and make certain you face the consequences." She sighed, closed her eyes, then relaxed against her chair, the anger quiet now.

"Until the investigation is complete," she added, "you, and the Purists we haven't locked up yet, are out of the military. Unless absolutely necessary, or if you are exonerated, you will not be privy to confidential material, and you certainly won't be entering the combat zone. Have I made myself clear?"

Jeremiah bowed. "Yes, Your Highness. What are to be my duties then?"

"You are to assist Sub-Viceroy Princess Euphemia li Britannia in the day to day operations of the Area. Whatever domestic work needs doing, you'll be there to help. I'll have some of my men see to it that that is all you do," the Viceroy ordered, turning to the documents on her table. "You're dismissed."

Jeremiah spun on his heel, making for the door. "Oh, and Lord Gottwald?" Jeremiah turned, eyebrow raised. "Send Nu in on your way out." Jeremiah nodded and exited the room.

….

Jeremiah had been waiting outside the door of the Viceroy's office for a quarter of an hour when Viletta stepped out, visibly shaken. She gasped in surprise when she saw Jeremiah, then fell into step beside him as they strode into the hallway.

"So," Jeremiah asked, "how did it go?"

Viletta sighed. "The only reason I'm not in a cell is that I was the one who apprehended Kewell. As it stands I've been demoted to Private for being a part of that whole fiasco. My career is over." Her voice wavered when she said that, and Jeremiah knew it was eating at her.

"Not necessarily," Jeremiah assured her. Before he could go on she snorted.

"Oh, sure My Lord, I'm still technically a soldier, but there's no longer a chance for advancement. They'll probably have me doing some kind of menial work, like traffic or riot control," Viletta said derisively, her sarcasm colored by her anger. Sighing again she added, "At least I'm still free, unlike most of the others."

Jeremiah shook his head. "Even they're in danger at this point. The Princess is taking no chances with any of us." He turned to Viletta and said forlornly, "Tell me Viletta, and be honest: the men remaining. Are they really the only ones that were still loyal to me?"

Viletta bowed her head, downcast. "I believe so, My Lord. Kewell appears to have had quite the larger following than previously thought."

Jeremiah stopped, punching the wall in frustration. "What the Hell happened to the Purist Faction," he demanded angrily, "We used to stand for something, for the thousands of Britannians disenfranchised from the officer corps, for the commoners wronged in both Britannia and abroad. Have we really fallen so far? Is this the reaping we have sown?"

Viletta placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Lord Jeremiah. It seems we're done."

Jeremiah was silent for a moment, head bowed. Then he straightened up, surprising Viletta with the fire in his eyes. "No," he declared firmly, "It's not over. Not for you and me. I've been made Princess Euhphemia's personal advisor and assistant, and I'm going to need help." He turned to Viletta.

"Will you help me, Viletta?" he asked.

Viletta shook her head, saying, "I don't know how I'd be able to. I've been stripped of all rank, remember?"

Jeremiah waved his hand in dismissal. "That is of little consequence. I'm still a member of the nobility and I still require an aide. Stick with me and we'll rise back to the top, stronger than before. Are you with me Viletta?"

Viletta nodded, a fierce grin splitting her face. "To the end, My Lord!"

Their flames reignited, the two marched down the hall.

….

Governor's Palace, Tokyo Settlement, Area 11: Seven Hours Later

"Gottwald and Nu are a security risk My Lady," Guilford said, frowning, "I don't understand why you would assign him as Princess Euphemia's assistant."

Cornelia shook her head tiredly and said, "Gottwald is the only one among the nobility who not only knows the dire situation in Area 11 but is actually willing to be honest about it. The others are fools, sycophants, or both. I hate speaking ill of the dead, especially family, but Clovis' administration was as corrupt and incompetent as any I have ever seen. Gottwald is the only one worth half a damn. He'll tell Euphie what she needs to know, not what she wants to hear."

"Either I or Darlton could do the same job," Guilford protested, "This is not something I feel that should be left to someone we can't trust."

"I need you both with me, Sir Guilford, in the pursuit for Zero. Aside from which, I trust Euphie: if she doesn't want to work with him he won't be a problem."

"My Lady-" Guilford started, but Cornelia fixed him with a hard glare.

"That discussion is at an end, Guilford. What have you learned from Soresi?"

Guilford, properly reprimanded, took the change of subject in stride: "Unfortunately nothing. He still claims amnesia, even though he has long since gone past the breaking point for most men. Unless he's a zealot, which I doubt, I believe him when he says he doesn't know anything."

"What about his former supporters? Have they been interrogated yet?"

"They have but we're not getting anything useful out of them either. They were just as shocked as we were at Soresi's actions."

Cornelia huffed angrily. "So we're back to square one, huh? Soresi was the only lead we had on Zero, and that's apparently dried up. What's his current state?"

Guilford grimaced. "He's in no condition to stand trial of any kind. Even if he was, the jury would likely acquit him out of pity."

Cornelia nodded. "Then he is of no further use to us. Dispose of him at your earliest convenience," she ordered.

Guilford nodded in affirmation. The Princess turned to Darlton, who stood next to her knight. "How goes the hunt for Zero?"

The old soldier shook his head in the negative. "It's too early to tell, Your Highness," he reported reluctantly, "I have feelers out and there's a reward out for any information but so far nothing. Our assassin has gone completely to ground since Kururugi's rescue, and I suspect that in spite of the reward, we will gain little from the locals."

"I agree: a reward will not be enough," Cornelia said slowly, "The Elevens have been spitting in Britannia's face for the past seven years. There are still too many in this cesspool that think they have a chance of pushing us out. Likely they are applauding Zero. If we don't act quickly we might be facing a larger insurrection."

"Then what do you propose My Lady?" Guilford asked.

Cornelia smiled viciously. "Since we can't seem to find Zero, and the Elevens aren't going to help, we let Zero find us."

Darlton grinned. "Set a trap for the man and take care of him the good old fashioned way."

Cornelia nodded, still smiling. Guilford frowned. "But what kind of trap," he asked, "and how will we lure him into it?"

Cornelia ruffled through the various documents laying before her, saying, "Gottwald mentioned an uprising occurring in the Saitama Ghetto. What do we know about it?"

Darlton shrugged, "A glorified gang war really. A bunch of punks that call themselves the 'Yamato Alliance.' They were mostly just vandals until they managed to get their hands on some weapons and ammunition. After the Zero debacle they've declared themselves to be in open rebellion for the 'Freedom of Japan.' The Knight Police could probably dispose of them with relative ease."

"The current population in the Ghetto is a little over a thousand," Guilford added, "making it somewhat more difficult than it reasonably should be to catch them."

Cornelia's face split in a triumphant grin. "Then it's exactly what we need," she declared, earning confused glances from the both of them.

Guilford asked, "What do you mean My Lady?"

"What's the full report on the Shinjuku Incident?" Cornelia asked patiently.

"Terrorists gained access to Britannian military hardware," Darlton answered, resting his hand in his chin in thought, "They didn't become really dangerous until then."

"Sounds similar to the Yamato Alliance doesn't it?" the Princess asked.

Both men grinned as they realized what their Princess had in mind.

"We're going to reenact the Shinjuku Incident," Cornelia announced, "We'll order traffic restrictions in and around the Ghetto. Have someone leak to the press that we're planning a major offensive but don't disclose the target. We don't want him knowing we're setting a trap for him."

"What if he does find out it's a trap?" Darlton asked.

Cornelia chuckled. "You saw the show he gave at the convoy, Darlton. Even if he knows it's a trap, that ego of his will draw him in just fine. I'll go personally as well. He won't be able to resist the opportunity to kill two Royals in quick succession."

Guilford was already shaking his head. "My Lady," he pleaded, "it is far too dangerous for you to be there. Allow myself and Darlton to go in your stead."

The Princess glared daggers at him. "I have never been afraid to lead my men into battle, be it against accomplished commanders or terrorist scum like Zero. Nothing has changed that."

The Princess stood, regal and terrifying, and both men knew who they spoke to now. "I'll tear Zero's heart out of his chest myself," she declared quietly, curling her hand into a fist before them.

The Witch of Britannia was marching to war.

…

Ashford Academy Clubhouse, Tokyo Settlement, Area 11

"Cornelia's going to begin commencing her attack on Saitama soon," C.C. commented as Lelouch began the finishing touches on the pot of tea. She asked, "What are your intentions?"

"What do you think?" Lelouch asked sarcastically, "I'm setting out to the Ghetto tomorrow morning. The evacuation and preparation has to begin now, not when she's right on their doorstep. Too many lives depend on it."

"You remember what happened last time, don't you?" C.C. asked him, picking up a small cake off the tray to her right. "She slow roasted your ass and then handed it to you on a silver platter."

"Last time that happened because the terrorists panicked and stopped following my orders. Had they listened we would have-"

"What, won?" C.C. said scornfully. "You didn't have a chance in that fight, stop pretending otherwise. Cornelia had you dead to rights, outsmarted and outgunned. She would have discovered you if I hadn't shown up."

"I've taken precautions against that," Lelouch said, angry. "She won't beat me this time."

"Why, because you know what she did last time? You of all people should know that the situation on the ground can change at a moment's notice."

"I can adapt to whatever she throws at me," Lelouch retorted, setting a pair of cups on the tray. "I know how she fights, her tactics, and her personality, all of which served me well when I brought her down during the Black Rebellion."

"You beat a woman in the middle of a psychological breakdown, not the woman you met at Saitama or even Narita. This is Cornelia in her prime. She's drawing you out and forcing you to fight on ground of her own choosing, and is in command of an elite army while you utilize men you know you cannot trust. Some call that bold. I call it stupid."

Lelouch turned to her, snarling, "Just what the Hell is your problem?"

"My problem is your damned ego, Lelouch," C.C. said caustically, "More than military strength, more than capable commanders, your most dangerous enemy is that big head of yours. You think you're the smartest person on the battlefield, that no one can match you, and it's come back to bite you more than once. Last time your arrogance cost you everything: your sister, your best friend, the Black Knights, and ultimately your life."

"I am not the stupid child who thought he could do no wrong," Lelouch grunted through gritted teeth, "I know better than anyone else that I can make a mistake. But this is not last time, and I am not making the same mistakes." He turned back to the tray before she could respond, grabbing it up and stepping through the doorway.

He could have sworn she said "Idiot" as he headed out.

….

Nunnaly Lamperouge could sense her brother's anger as he came into the dining room. What's wrong? She wondered as she heard the sound of metal being slapped down on wood. Did something happen at school today?

"Here we are, Nunnaly. Tea is served." His voice was strained, as if he was barely able to keep his temper in check.

Something bad must have happened, she thought. But what could get under Big Brother's skin so badly?

"Would you like to have the cakes first or take a sip of your drink?" So much tension in his voice, she thought. She didn't comment on it just yet: better to take some drink first and calm him down.

"Tea, please." She smiled in the way she knew would ease her brother's worries, putting on the best innocent look she possibly could. She felt the cool ceramic touch her lips and opened them slightly, sipping down the delicious drink her brother had prepared. She quirked her lip a little bit, allowing some of the precious liquid to spill out and over her chin.

"Uh oh," Lelouch said, amusement coating his voice, "Looks like we have a little mess. Hang on a second." Nunnaly could hear the tension leaving his voice as he attended to her and felt a warmth in her heart at the knowledge that she had relieved some of her brother's stress. The rustling of a napkin caught her attention and she pressed her face forward just as Lelouch reached up, the silk cloth pressing gently against her chin and mouth, soaking up the slight spill.

When the cloth left her face, Nunally turned in Lelouch's general direction and asked him, "What's wrong Lelouch, you seem upset?"

There was a short pause before Lelouch said, "It's nothing Nunnaly, don't worry about it."

Nunnaly shook her head, saying, "Please don't push me away Big Brother, I want to help you. Tell me what's troubling you."

She heard Lelouch sigh before he answered her. "I got into a bit of a fight with a friend."

"You mean Shirley?" Nunnaly asked immediately. Though she loved the dear girl as an elder sister, she knew the older teen tended to harp on Lelouch's gambling habits. Had she finally gone too far?

"No, not Shirley," Lelouch chuckled, "But it was a female friend." So Milly or Nina? Nunnaly filed that question away for later.

"What were you fighting about?" she asked out loud.

She heard Lelouch sigh. "Since I was going to tell you anyway, I may as well explain." Nunnaly perked up with interest. "I'm going to be heading out of the Tokyo Settlement and traveling to Kyoto. There's a nobleman there who's requested my help in a match and is offering a hefty sum. I'll be gone for a few days at the most."

The idea of being away from Lelouch for so long hit Nunnaly hard, but what hit her harder was the realization that flashed through her. He's lying.

If Nunnaly had been anyone else she would have been unable to tell, but years of relying on sound to discern direction and intention due to her blindness had honed her hearing. She could hear the slight uptake in vocal pattern, and discern the low note of guilt that made his voice squeak ever so slightly.

She reached out her hand, saying, "Oh Lelouch, please don't go. I can't stand the idea of us being apart for so long."

"Don't worry, Nunnaly, I won't be gone for too long, and you'll have Sayoko with you." Lelouch took her hand and she concentrated on the feeling of it. What she felt confirmed it: the heated skin that was slightly perspiring, the slight tremble, the quickened pulse that was his heart rate spiking. He was lying to her.

"I adore Sayoko, Big Brother, but she isn't you. Please come back as quickly as you can," Nunnaly said, letting her worry for him infuse her voice.

"I will Nunnaly. I promise."

Hours later, when she heard Lelouch exit their home and begin his journey to wherever he was really going, Nunnaly was kept awake by a single thought.

Oh Brother, just what are you involved in?