I do not own Code Geass.
…...
Beneath the Wailing Prison, Kingdom of Zilkhistan, March 20, 2020, Kowa Period
"This is bullshit," Kallen grumbled.
C-Two rolled her eyes. "If you have a better solution, I'm all ears," she said.
The two stood in a crowd of women of similar age. They were all dressed in pantaloons and bras that wouldn't have been out of place on a belly dancer troupe, surrounded by armed guards and priests in white robes. Kallen wore a yellow shoulder coat over her white bra, a silver head band with a sapphire bead hanging over hear forehead. In the two years since Zero Requiem, the young woman had grown her red hair out even longer, a sign of her semi-retirement from the Black Knights. What the young woman did now that she'd graduated from Ashford, C-Two hadn't the foggiest idea.
"We should have taken the interior catacombs," Kallen argued for the umpteenth time. "We'd have guns, armor, and-"
"And we would have been caught," C-Two interjected. "I warned Ohgi those maps of the catacombs were hopelessly outdated. There's no telling how many tunnels are actually still open. You saw the detail we had to get through just to get here."
The ruins were beneath the Wailing Prison, a black hole that God forgot. Guard towers had been placed at the four corners of the prison perimeter, and there were five different checkpoints on the lone road leading to the complex proper. The prison had been built on top of a cliff that jutted up from a black abyss, making escape nigh impossible. They had descended into the ruins via a long winding staircase carved with geass sigils by hand.
"Should have still let me hide a weapon," Kallen complained.
C-Two raised an eyebrow at her. "And if they strip us naked?"
Kallen blushed to her roots. "The-They'd do that?" she spluttered.
C-Two glanced down at the bra that barely kept Kallen's voluptuous breasts covered. "For you? Count on it."
Kallen covered her chest with an arm, sending an accusatory glare around the room. C-Two smothered a laugh.
"STEP FORWARD!" a male voice shouted. "STEP FORWARD!"
The two of them snapped to attention. The crowd of women strode forth beneath the gazes of the surrounding soldiers and their heavy weapons. Kallen and C-Two joined hands to keep from being separated, and they weren't the only ones. Most of the others seemed to be nervous.
They were brought down a long, wide hallway that branched off in three directions. One of those directions was cut off by a collapsed hall, while the other was blocked by armed guards. The halls were lit with torches that cast dark shadows on the walls and over the faces of those in the crowd.
There were screams coming from somewhere, and the harsh crack of a whip. Kallen went to move, but C-Two squeezed her hand tightly.
"We're here for Nunnally," she warned in a whisper. "Nunnally. We can't do anything for them."
Kallen's jaw was tight, and she made no attempt to answer, but she also didn't try to break free.
They arrived in a huge chamber in what C-Two could only conclude was the main ceremonial hall. More lit braziers lined the walls, and soldiers with them. The floor was lined with a curious array of wells that extended from five large basins to a single massive one inlaid deep into the stone. There was a hole in the middle, and above it rose-
"A Thought Elevator," C-Two breathed.
It was a giant archway covered in ancient runes sitting at the top of a stone dais. Smooth steps led up to it, at the summit of which stood a blonde woman of exceptional beauty. Her golden locks flowed down her lithe, yet voluptuous figure, barely concealed by a yellow dress that she must have been sewed into. Blue eyes stared down at them with a cold, predatory gleam beneath a gold band. Red lips sat in a contemplative pout against her crescent face. In her left hand was a spear; in the other, a golden scepter.
"That's Shamna," Kallen said beside her. "Queen of Zilkhistan. The bitch that kidnapped Nunnally and Zero."
"We have more pressing concerns," C-Two said. She had taken a second look at the basins, and they worried her. "Get us weapons. Now."
Kallen stumbled into one of the soldiers ringing the room.
"Watch what you're doing!" the soldier barked.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Kallen wailed. "Please don't hurt me!"
She fell back into C-Two, who wrapped her arms around her. Within that embrace, Kallen passed her the soldier's bayonet, which C-Two slipped into her pantaloons.
"That won't work twice," she whispered.
"Trust me," Kallen grunted, "I got what I needed."
When they were all in the chamber, the soldiers began dividing them into roughly equivalent groups and frog marched them into each basin. Kallen and C-Two attempted to hold onto one another, but the scrum dragged them apart. C-Two was brought to the room's center finger basin, her arms curling around a frightened girl no older than fourteen. The priests surrounded them, their hands in their sleeves.
Shamna smiled down upon them. "I thank you all for joining us on this auspicious occasion," she announced. Her voice was melodic, soothing, and it made C-Two's hair stand on end. "Some of you are foreign born, come to our Holy Kingdom for trade or tourism. Some are my subjects, you brave patriots who love dearly our nation. All shall serve today."
She paced back and forth across the dais. "This nation was once a rich, verdant land. The River of Life flowed through it, enriching the soil and feeding bountiful harvests. Great cities prospered beneath the rains that fed our grain fields and wheat farms. Our mines were tapped with precious ores that we sold at high price to our neighbors and friends."
She put a hand to her eye, wiping away nonexistent tears. "But all of that is gone. War has taken all from us. Our neighbors have burned our fields and dried our rivers. Our friends have stolen our mineral deposits and precious metals. Now, our only export is war."
She turned to the archway. "But today, that changes. Today we restore our nation to its rightful place. Today, we make the rivers to flow, the fields we fertilize, the minerals we restore." She raised her hands to the Thought Elevator. "Today, Zilkhistan rises again, stronger than ever!"
She turned back to the crowd, and her eyes pierced right through C-Two.
"But first," she said, "we deal with our uninvited guests."
…
Rashtrapati Bhavan, New Delhi, Republic of India, January, 2018
Lelouch stared out of the window at the Palace of Ministers, a mug of tea cradled lazily in his hand. New Delhi sprawled out before him, a near flattened mix of one-to-three story buildings crammed together in a slapdash mess. Architecture with distinctive Chinese characteristics was being torn down; what would replace them was anyone's guess. On the way into the city, he had seen uniformed recruiters on every street corner signing people up for the Indian Army, and packing them onto horse drawn carts to carry them to training camps in the surrounding areas. Coal fire plants burned black smoke into the sky, powering the factories that were even now churning out guns, bullets, planes, artillery, tanks, and Knightmare Frames.
They will not return to the Federation without a fight, Lelouch surmised. Unfortunate, but expected.
The Prime Minister's office was small, cramped. It had formerly been the office of the Dehli Governor, whose jurisdiction covered the city of New Delhi and the surrounding area. The much larger office of the Royal Magistrate had been struck by a bomb in the early days of the fighting and had yet to be fully repaired.
C-Two sat on the Prime Minister's desk, a Cheese-Kun plushy clutched to her chest. She was wearing a white gown this time, the bodice pulled down low enough to expose the swell of her cleavage, with slits cut out of the skirt for ease of movement. Her lime hair was pulled into a bun, long loose locks falling down around her cheeks.
She gave him a knowing smirk. "Like what you see?" she asked, her voice sultry.
"Yes," he said. She gave him a surprised look. "You should prove adequate in distracting the Prime Minister."
The girl rolled her eyes. "You know just what to say to a girl, don't you Lelouch?"
Lelouch glared. "Don't use that name here. You never know who's listening."
She shrugged. "We know precisely who is listening," she retorted. "But I think we both know it won't matter in the end."
He allowed the comment to stand unopposed.
The assistant outside announced, "Presenting Mahatma Mohdi, the Prime Minister of India!"
The door swung open, admitting a heavyset man with thinning gray hair and a bushy mustache. Merry baby blue eyes peeked out beneath wrinkled folds.
He shook Zero's hand in a big, meaty grip. "Hello, hello my friend! Welcome, welcome to New Delhi! Welcome to our Republic of India!"
"It's an honor, Prime Minister," Lelouch said. He gestured to C-Two. "Allow me to introduce Captain Cera Lamperouge from the Office of Strategic Services." The Prime Minister gave the back of C-Two's hand a kiss, his eyes settling on her chest. Lelouch felt a hint of annoyance. "We've come to settle the issues between yourselves and the Federation."
The man beamed. "It's a pleasure to meet you both!" he declared. He lumbered the short distance to his desk, wheezing as he squeezed into the tiny space between it and the bookshelves surrounding it. "I pray you forgive me for the mess. Either I or someone else is in and out of this room, so our poor custodians have been unable to clean in here."
"It's fine," Lelouch assured him. He took the seat next to C-Two, crossed his legs easily. "I assume you've received the First Consul's proposal?"
"I have, I have. Can I interest you in a drink?"
"Please."
The Prime Minister leaned underneath the desk. There was a clatter of sliding wood, the clink of glass. He emerged a moment later, a whiskey bottle in one hand and a pair of glasses in the other.
"I hope you like whiskey," he said. He poured the glasses, gave one to Zero. "A Britannian diplomat got me hooked on it during a stay in- what was it, Kentucky? I think they call it Kentucky- anyway it was about a year ago now, and I bought several crates of them. Getting all of that through Customs was fun, let me tell you! Tell me, how old are you young man?"
"I turned eighteen this past December."
"Good, good! The legal age in Britannia. We've been thinking of making it that way here, too. If you're old enough to die for your country, you're old enough to get drunk, I say! Don't you agree?"
"It's fair, I'd say."
"Yes, yes, get drunk, get good and drunk, and probably get shot all full of holes, and then the whiskey leaks out like a spigot and the next boy can sip it right up. Cigar?"
Lelouch raised an eyebrow. "Thank you kindly."
He opened a cedar box on the desktop, from he which extracted two cigars. He handed one to Lelouch, lit a match, and lit them both up. Lelouch placed the cigar in his mouth, but didn't drag on it.
"Havana, I presume?" Lelouch asked.
"Quite right." The man took a long drag off the cigar. "It is a tragedy that you can't grow these anywhere in India. Not for lack of fertile soil, mind you. We have no lack of that. Prodigious amounts in Andra Pradesh, Gujarat, and Karnataka. Do you know the history of our great nation, Colonel Spacer?"
"Do you mean its modern state, or its history stretching back a thousand years?"
"Recent history will do just fine, I think."
"Very well," Lelouch said, crossing his hands. "The modern state of India began in 1757, when it was incorporated into the late Han Dynasty."
The Prime Minister chuckled. "'Incorporated.'" He laughed.
Lelouch smiled. "Well, I didn't want to be uncouth and say 'conquered.'"
The Prime Minister waved him on to continue.
"During the Year of the Three Kings, India was granted its own autonomy in an effort to stave off the massive upheaval rippling through the Middle Kingdom like a tsunami. The result was that India assumed the role of a vassal state, nominally a province within the newly formed Chinese Federation, but functionally independent."
The Prime Minister sighed. He leaned back in his chair. "I suppose that is a fair summation, for an outsider," he allowed. "Unfortunately, it misses some of the finer details."
"Such as?" Lelouch queried, an eyebrow raised.
The man cleared his throat. "Two years after the new constitution was signed, the Federal Parliament passed a series of tariff laws that dramatically relaxed restrictions on foreign tobacco product. At the same time, new excise taxes were enacted in order to pay for modern railroad infrastructure. Sales taxes were raised on agricultural products such as rice and cereals. A minimum wage law was enacted for the 'benefit of the workers,' that only succeeded in driving the price of labor so high that smaller businesses, the lifeblood of an economy, were not able to retain a workforce."
"Would that not lead to an economic crash?" C-Two asked.
The Prime Minister nodded. "Oh yes, it did. All across the Federation, but most particularly in the Indian subcontinent, which were the primary exporters of such product. Two years into the recession, when most of these businesses and farmers were on the brink of collapse, investors from the Chinese nobility proceeded to buy them all out, fire the remaining Indian workforce, and replace them with ethnically Chinese labor. The end result of all this was the economic evisceration of India by our so called 'leaders.'" He smiled angrily. "Coincidentally, the Federation Parliament raised the tariff prices to their original levels to 'protect domestic farmers.' The sales taxes for the railroads, which almost never materialized might I add, were either lowered or repealed altogether. And, the Federal Judiciary struck down the minimum wage law as unconstitutional."
He took a long drag off his cigar. "That was the lie of 'autonomy.' That is how much the Federation valued its Indian citizens. And that," he took another drag, "is why you can't grow cigars here. The Federation has intentionally let most of the fields lie fallow. They flooded our streets with Britannian produced opium, so that we could not even muster a rebellion against them. They drafted what few of our sons weren't addicts into their military to fight their wars."
He waved the paper documents hand delivered to him by Lelouch that outlined Zero's proposal. "So we fought, yes? As soon as the Chinks began killing each other, we took the opportunity and declared independence. We dragged our children out of the whorehouses and opium dens, put guns in their hands, and demanded they kill for their freedom. Two million of them now lie in unmarked graves, most of them muddy pits dug in the dead of night so their corpses wouldn't infect their comrades." He gave the papers another, angrier wave. "And this is what Zero recommends?"
"The terms are generous." C-Two gave his knee a squeeze, indicating he'd made a mistake.
She was right.
"Generous?" the Prime Minister asked quietly, dangerously. "Generous? Full autonomy so long as we place our necks back beneath the sword? Investment in our industries so the Whore can take it all away once the war is done?"
Lelouch glared at him. "I strongly recommend against calling her a whore again."
Mohdi flung the papers into Lelouch's face. He slammed his fist on his desk. "No more! Never again!" He leaned across the table, fire in his eyes. "We will die before we become slaves again! We will not kneel to the Federation, to the Eunuchs! Never again to any slant-eye bitch that thinks she rules the world! Never! Never! Never!"
Lelouch sighed. He took a sip of his whiskey. "I suppose that means you will not negotiate with Japan?" he asked.
"Only if you recognize our independence," the Prime Minister answered, his tone firm. "We know that Britannia will return to Asia, and that all of us may fall before it. But we will not be subjects to the Middle Kingdom ever again."
Lelouch snorted a laugh.
Mohdi scowled at him. "Do you think our resolve is funny?" he demanded.
Lelouch burst into peals of laughter, high, and loud, and cold. "Your resolve?" he said, unable to cease laughing. "Resolve? Is that what you called it when you sent all those Shudra boys off to die in Cambodia? Or how you taxed the Vaishyas into near starvation, all of your own accord? It seems the only way to get fat in this country is to be a member of the priesthood." He eyed Mohdi up and down. "Or its government."
Mohdi's dark skin was growing red. "You DARE! IN OUR COUNTRY! IN OUR LAND!"
Lelouch laughed again. "It's not yours anymore."
He slipped his glasses off his eyes.
They burned.
…..
Major Cecile Croomy's Trailer, Camelot Staging Area, Huesca, Unincorporated Area 24
"Tanner Moore is a Knight of some three years," Cecile read off. "Despite his station, he has been in the stockades twenty-seven times for disorderly conduct, public drunkenness, and inciting fights."
"Then what is he still doing in the Knightmare Corps?" Suzaku asked.
"His brother's a Duke."
Suzaku sighed wearily.
The two sat at the table in Cecile's trailer, going over the personnel files for Suzaku's new command. Suzaku's tie was loose, his coat hung over the back of his seat. Cecile had stripped down to just her blouse and skirt, the buttons at the top undone to expose the white valley of her decolletage. Cups of hot, freshly brewed tea sat before them.
"That's the eighth personnel file filled with disciplinary complaints we've found," Suzaku grumbled. "Out of, what, twelve so far?"
"Fifteen," Cecile corrected.
"Right, fifteen. It's a band of misfits and rejects." He tossed another file back on the table, leaned back in his chair. "We sure that Prince Schneizel wants me to succeed?"
"I would hope so," Cecile replied, not looking at him. "I think the truth is that Britannians of 'good stock,'" she said with disgust, "won't appreciate being commanded by an Honorary Britannian. I'm not surprised he's turned to the dregs and the malcontents. He doesn't have a choice."
That makes far too much sense. "How many of these guys even have flight training, do you think? One in ten? Twenty?" Suzaku groaned. "I hope the invasion isn't coming anytime soon."
"You never know. They'll have to put a lot of time in the simulators."
Suzaku rubbed his the sleep from his eyes. "Maybe he just wants to throw a whole bunch of men into the scrum? Overwhelm their defenses? Jeez." He grimaced. "Most of the unit would probably end up dead." He laughed humorlessly. "Maybe I'll be one of them."
"Don't say that!" Cecile snapped. Suzaku started. "Never say that. Don't even think it." She flipped through a page. "There's enough working against you without you multiplying your own worries."
"Like what?"
Cecile fidgeted in her seat.
"Cecile, what's working against me?"
She sighed deeply. "The Prime Minister himself, for one," she told him. "Prime Minister Schneizel didn't want you anywhere near the Lancelot after Tokyo. Lloyd threatened to resign if you weren't retained as the Lancelot's pilot."
The eyes of hundreds of dead children stared out at him from bloody bodies.
Suzaku ground his teeth. "I acted under orders," he said quietly.
Cecile gave him a sympathetic look. "That isn't the reason," she said. "His Highness has now lost two brothers and two sisters in Japan. First the vi Britannia children-"
Suzaku choked on the lump in his throat.
"-then Prince Clovis and Princess Cornelia. Prince Schneizel loves his family. He was well known as one of Empress Marianne's supporters. And it's always been rumored he was in love with Princess Cornelia. He resents anyone of Japanese descent."
She shook her head. "The only reason this project has been allowed to continue is Lloyd's results. Any other man, the Camelot Project would have been shut down a long time ago."
Suzaku bowed his head. "I'm sorry," he said. "Neither of you should have been put through such trouble on my account."
Cecile patted his hand, a warm smile on her face. "Nonsense. It's a lady's duty to support her Knight."
Suzaku nodded. He swallowed heavily.
A few minutes passed in companionable silence. Cecile's thumb stroked his knuckles softly. Suzaku stared at her.
Her ivory cheeks were flushed pink. The twin summits of her breasts were similarly tinged. Her lips were moist.
He shook himself free. "I suppose we can finish going over this tomorrow," he said, coughing. "Do we have an ETA on when they'll show up?"
"Your adjutants will be arriving tomorrow morning," she answered, sitting up straight. "Their names are Schnee Hecksen and Ledo Offen. Both Knights."
Suzaku clicked his tongue. "Probably not going to be happy taking orders from me, then."
"Offen's alright. It's Hecksen you'll have to look out for. He has a noted disdain for non-pure Britannians. Not that dissimilar to the Purists, in fact."
"Well, Lord Jeremiah is a decent man. I'm sure Hecksen won't be too difficult to handle."
"Hopefully."
Suzaku stood up. He and Cecile went about cleaning up the table, setting the files into clean stacks. Cecile brought their teacups to the sink while Suzaku threw on his coat.
"Suzaku," she said tentatively.
Suzaku adjusted the collar on his coat. "Yes, Cecile?"
"You don't...have to go just yet, do you?"
She leaned back against the counter, her hands on the countertop. Her blouse was flat against her belly, stretched tight across her chest. Her foot rested on the seat of her chair, the long white leg exposed.
"There's still a full pot of tea," she said, her gaze never wavering from him. "And it's very cold outside. There's no reason to leave now, is there?"
Suzaku considered her for a moment. He felt soft, lustrous pink hair sift through his finger; firm, round breasts molding to the will of his hands; soft pink lips working against his. Anger, guilt, longing, resentment flooded through him.
He loosened his tie, stepped around the table. He strode to her, put his leg at the delta of her thighs, leaned forward, his hands coming down on the countertop on either side of her hips.
Every breath he took was hers.
"No," he said. "I suppose not."
Her mouth was soft, warm, and infinitely yielding.
….
Knights of Michael Headquarters, Madrid
It was the third midnight of Nunnally's stay within this den of psychopaths. Having established the details of the story Jeremiah and Shaing were going to give to the court, the talk shifted to the coup that they were now in the middle of. It was agreed that he would be assigned the command of one of the new aerial divisions, some twenty thousand men in newly retrofitted Flight-Enabled Knightmare Frames.
There was no way he was retaining his original command after Manfredi's death.
Is this man like Lelouch? Nunnally wondered.
She'd had another dream.
I won't hand this key over to you, Lelouch! Even...Even if you use your geass on me!
What did I do, brother? Nunnally lamented. How could I have ever raised a sword against you?
"They're experimental at the moment," Shaing told Jeremiah as they pored over a map of Europe that had been brought out and laid across the table. "Just about every assigned pilot is going through a crash course in flight training just to get them airborne, but the numbers will be sufficient to offset the inherent inexperience. V-TOL's and fighter jets will be making up some of the shortcomings." He smiled up at Jeremiah. "Of course, you'll have to spend a lot of time in the simulator, too."
"Who will my original command go to?" Jeremiah asked. "I was supposed to lead a division across the Pyreenes."
"Princes Castor and Pollux, most likely," Shaing replied. "Those two have been pushing for a European command for years. The Great Game is heating up now that Cornelia is dead, and there's precious little honor to be found outside of Europe."
"What about the South American Areas?"
Shaing shook his head. "From what I've heard, not going well. The rebels have taken to the jungles and hills. Rooting them out is proving near impossible. Dame Krucweski's in command, but I wouldn't be surprised if Bradley was sent, too. He's already cleaned up North Africa sufficiently, so it's possible."
The Vampire…
She had seen him in dreams, too.
He terrified her.
"Is there a timetable for when we go in?" Jeremiah asked.
"March is the earliest I've been hearing, when Spring begins. But who can say for sure?"
Shaing pointed to several locations on the map, all of them major cities. "These are the locations we need control over by the time the operation begins. With the major cities in our possession, we can control Europe's primary rail lines."
"What of the Navy? Have we any allies there?"
"About a third of them will join us, but we'll have to dispose of the rest. Too many don't have any historical claims in Europe, so they're ill disposed. Besides which, there's neither need nor desire to cross back over the Atlantic. Any war in Britannia proper will be a decade long slog. No one wants that."
"But what of His Highness?"
Shaing smirked. "Once Charles loses Europe, after having already lost Asia, most of his support will vanish anyway. A settlement can be negotiated with whomever takes the reins of power."
Jeremiah only nodded.
Nunnally bit her lip. Ashra, the red-haired knight, kept glancing in her direction, keeping her under constant surveillance, though he looked away whenever she caught him.
She grabbed Sayoko's hand.
Oh, Brother, what are we going to do?
…...
Military Conference Room, Rashtrapati Bhavan, New Delhi, Republic of India
"I would propose," General-in-Chief Abdud Daar said to Zero, "that we put together a dummy army along our northern and western borders, in order to present the appearance of formidable defenses to throw our enemies off." He was a lean man, with light skin and dark hair greased, oiled, and, likely, dyed, given the man was in his fifties. Deep lines creased his face. His green uniform was starched and pressed, all indications that it had once been a Federation Militia uniform gone.
With him was his general staff, looking over notes, maps, and intelligence papers spread across the table that they all stood around. Chatter was quiet. The conference room was brightly lit, which was probably a good thing since it dulled the red haze in their eyes.
"At the same time," the General said, bringing his hand up to the south, at Chiang Rai, "we concentrate the bulk of our strength here, to prepare for a strong push into the Reds' holdings proper."
Lelouch hummed. "There will be many casualties," he commented approvingly. "Ensure that those units most loyal to an independent India are the ones doing the fighting and dying. Emphasize the offensive to the utmost. We want as many dead as possible while still maintaining sufficient numbers for the battle with Britannia."
"Yes, My Lord."
"Supreme Commander," Lelouch called out to the man on a viewscreen on the wall, "will this plan satisfy the Tianzi?"
Xingke nodded. "I believe so," he agreed. "We will be prepared to strike at Chongqing within the next month, once all of our fuel supplies have landed from Japan."
Lelouch leaned back over the map. "Once Chongqing has been taken," he said, "the Reds will have lost their primary transit hub and industrial strength in the south, and we can move on Chengdu next. They will not last out the year." He looked back up to Xingke. "What are the movements of the Northern Alliance?"
The Northern Alliance was the name that Lelouch had given to the band of fools in the north, once he learned the truth.
Damn you, V-Two!
Evidently, he hadn't been the first one to have a little chat with the Indian Prime Minister. Geass agents from the Order were on the move throughout former and current Federation territory, each one delivering the same message to the rebel leaders: put aside their differences and work together to bring down the Empress, and the Empire would mediate their disputes at the end of hostilities. They had offered exclusive trade rights, public loans for the rebuilding process, and a thirty percent share in the Sakuradite industry once Britannia had retaken Japan.
The Prime Minister had nominally agreed but had been prepared to hear the Black Knights out.
We have to move quickly, Lelouch thought. The Order has to be neutralized.
He had no intention of exterminating the Order this time. His decision to do so in his previous life had been ill conceived and monstrous. It had also cost him the loyalty of Tohdoh and Chiba, swinging them toward betrayal.
Lelouch huffed. Not much seems to have changed.
"Enemy forces are on the move," Xingke confirmed. "We've spotted Nationalist, Communist, and Eunuch forces working in concert to hasten their troops to our borders. A storm is about to break loose on us, Spacer. We must strike before they're ready."
"I agree," Lelouch said. "Indian tankers are already on the move under heavy escort towards Japan carrying heavy equipment to dig out Mount Fuji."
Xingke clicked his tongue. "We don't have time to dig out Mount Fuji, Spacer," he reminded him.
"I know. That's why I've just sent strict orders to the Black Knights that they are to send all available Sakuradite to the port cities for extraction." Lelouch clasped his hands behind his back. "With luck, we'll be able to launch our offensive within the next three weeks."
"I do not like relying on luck, Spacer. She is a fickle mistress. Xingke out."
After the feed cut, Lelouch said, "Well, neither do I, Xingke."
"Wow," C-Two said, bored, "you really told him."
He glared at her, but there was a teasing smirk playing on her lips that stayed his tongue.
Lelouch turned back to General Daar. "Well, General, let's see just how much traitor's blood we can spill between us, hmm?"
"Yes, My Lord!"
….
Forbidden City, Beijing, Free Republic of China
"We are moving our troops to the southern borders as quickly as we can," High Eunuch Wang Tan complained. "You cannot expect us to move any faster when we are running so low on Sakuradite."
V-Two suppressed a scowl. He hated the High Eunuchs, these ball-less fools who were responsible for the mess Britannia found itself in.
If you had not tried to take Area Eleven from us, you wouldn't be running out of fuel!
Whole swaths of Beijing were in ruins as a result of the Tianzi's Flight from the capitol. The walls of the Forbidden City were cracked or torn down, and the interior was still riddled with bullet holes. The floors were stained, likely permanently, with dried blood.
All because of the idiot in front of him.
"My dear Lord Tan," he said aloud, plastering a polite smile on his face, "I understand the position you find yourselves in, but I'm afraid you must try. Our satellites are picking up a high degree of movement among both the Royalists and the Indians."
"I thought the Indians had signaled their agreement?" Tan asked, adjusting his spectacles.
"They have," V-Two confirmed. "And it seems that the Black Knights are now active in Federation territory. Troops are moving to the border with India for what appears to be a major offensive. If they begin to pick up on the increased traffic from our own side, they may halt their preparations and instead fortify their positions. Digging them out will be much more difficult."
"Then convince the Russians to sell us more Sakuradite," Tan retorted. "If you want my men to move faster than they are, then we need Sakuradite, and we need it now."
V-Two fought not to chortle. "The EU knows very well that the Empire's offensive is coming soon," he said. "Do you truly believe that they will be in any position to sell you more Sakuradite when we are knocking on their front door?"
Tan's jaw worked for a moment. "Would you be willing to act as a mediator between ourselves and the Russians?" he asked.
"Certainly."
He ground his teeth. "Inform the Russians that if they divert their Sakuradite production to the Free Republic of China, we will allow the annexation of all of Outer Manchuria up to Haishanwei."
V-Two's eyes went wide. I-I truly could not have expected this!
The Russian Federal Republic had been trying to get their hands on Outer Manchuria for a century. The fact that the Eunuchs were now willing to give it up, just to regain the Federation, was astonishing.
"You seem surprised," Tan said.
V-Two snorted. "You offer quite the boon," he replied.
Tan glared at him. "You think us fools, don't you?" he asked. Before V-Two could respond, he said, "Of course you do. We let this entire nation fall to pieces." He scowled. "We should have killed that little wench the moment she spoke out of turn. But we raised her from childhood. We guided her, loved her. Perhaps we were too sentimental.
"However," his glare intensified, "we are not stupid. We know what you are doing, Lord V-Two. We know that the Empire is doing." He leaned down to V-Two. "Europe will not last out the year. And you seek to grind us all to dust in this bloodletting." He smiled, a worm's smile, a scavenger's smile, a smile without a shred of honor or courage. "We will expect the Empire to treat us well when they return to Asia."
V-Two smiled, a smile filled with monstrous cruelty. "I am certain something can be arranged."
….
Black Knight Conference Room, Presidential Palace, Tokyo, United States of Japan
"Lelouch wants us to send as much Sakuradite as we can," Yoshida announced stonily. "He's negotiated with the Indians to send us tankers and naval protection for the crossing. They're to be offloaded at Shanghai, then-"
"I get it," Ohgi cut him off. He leaned forward on his desk, his hands clasped before him. Anger was swelling within him. "Do what he says. Send whatever's needed over." This wasn't what he wanted to discuss, but it was necessary. For that reason, Mutsuki had already been ordered from the room.
"Are you-" Inoue hesitated. "Are you sure?"
"The Federation is the only way we're going to get Japan back on its feet," he replied. "If it goes down, we're sitting ducks."
Inoue nodded.
Sugiyama said, "Sendai-"
"Tell Urabe to crush it," Ohgi ordered. "He's wasted enough time and energy dicking around besieging the place. We can't afford any more wasteful Sakuradite usage."
"Ohgi."
Ohgi looked over at Tamaki. The redhead looked miserable.
"Ohgi, we gotta talk to 'em," he implored him. "We gotta fin' out what's what."
"He geassed Kallen," Ohgi said.
"Ohg-"
"HE GEASSED KALLEN!"
Everyone jumped. Tamaki fell silent.
What had he done? What had that bastard done to Kallen? They had gone out on a date, right? What happened that night?
Kallen wasn't telling. Whatever command had been placed on her forbade her from saying anything. In every other way, she seemed to be alright; it was just the date.
"I don't care what his reasoning is," Ohgi stated. "Kallen loves him, and he used that shit on her. If he was standing in front of me right now..."
"What do we do?" Minami asked. "Lelouch is the only one we can trust to take on the Empire. He's the only one who's got a shot of beating them."
"We gotta know why he did it, man," Tamaki said. "If...If he did it! If he did it, he had a damn good-"
"How do we know he didn't force himself on her?" Ohgi demanded.
Sugiyama exploded with laughter. "Force himself? On Kallen?" He laughed again. "He couldn't force himself on a cat!"
"Unless he used geass," Yoshida retorted quietly, a haunted look on his face.
Tamaki snorted. "He wouldn't have had to," he said. "If he wanted to nail Kallen's ass to a bedpost, he could've done it whenever he liked!"
Ohgi snarled. "What the Hell is that supposed to mean, Tamaki?"
"Dude, you weren't on campaign with us," Tamaki said, crossing his arms. "She was practically beggin' Zero to pop 'er cher-"
"GODDAMMIT TAMAKI! THIS IS KALLEN YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!" Ohgi shouted.
"AND SHE LOVES HIM, MAN!" Tamaki shouted right back. "YOU WEREN'T THERE! THEY COULDN'T KEEP THEIR HANDS OFF EACH OTHER!"
Inoue slammed her fist on the table. "Would you idiots consider the issue at hand!" she demanded. "If Zero did geass her, where the Hell does that leave us? If he used it on her, he'll use it on any of us!"
"Only if it was totally necessary," Minami retorted.
"Who defines 'necessary?'" Yoshida asked.
"The war, man," Tamaki said. "The goddamn war. He's the only one who can win it." He shook his head. "Shit, man, he's the only one that's gotta chance!"
"I know," Ohgi growled. "I know. I..."
Something occurred to him. He rifled through some documents on the table.
"That weapon, the HADIS," Ohgi said as he searched. "I think we've made something like ten of them since the end of the war."
"I don't think one of those little grenades is going to be much good against the Empire," Sugiyama said.
"You're right," Ohgi agreed. "But as Second Consul, I'm privy to more classified material than you are."
He found the file he was looking for, thumbed it open.
"If that Einstein girl got the specs right," Ohgi said coldly, "we may not need to win a war with Britannia. Just an effective deterrent."
He gazed down at the case file name.
FLEIJA.
…...
New Delhi Market, Republic of India
Diethard held the camera to his eye as they walked through the market square. It teemed with vibrancy, a thousand different colors and people intermingling in the densest concentration of humanity he'd ever seen.
He was in the middle of an armed cordon of Black Knights, outfitted in full uniform and armed to the teeth. Diethard had been surprised at Zero's-Colonel Spacer's- abandonment of stealth, but the explanation was simple.
"They know I'm here," Spacer had answered. "There's no point in pretending that India and Japan isn't aligned."
How they knew, Spacer hadn't explained, but Diethard believed him. There was confidence to the man, a self assurance that came from a knowledge only he, seemingly, possessed.
The Colonel was wearing his standard kepi, greatcoat ensemble, sunglasses gleaming darkly beneath the blue sky. Lady C-Two, by what Diethard was certain was intentional contrast, wore a white-gold shawl and golden jewels that jingled from her lime hair. The girl had settled into the Indian culture faster than he would have thought possible, smiling and laughing; dancing with the street performers; eating hot treats from food stands that made her fan her mouth comically, to the laughing approval of the crowd.
She reminds me of a Britannian Empress, Diethard thought. Or the wife of one of those Republican Presidents over in Europe.
C-Two haggled loudly with a jewelry vendor, making certain that people were seeing that she was giving as good as she got in an encounter that Diethard couldn't be sure wasn't staged. When an agreed upon sum was reached, Zer-Spacer, with what appeared to be a long-suffering sigh, to laughter around him, handed some paper bills in Indian currency over to the vendor, took a golden necklace from the man. He slipped the chain around his Lady's throat, to her supposed surprise and delight.
Wonder if the tabloids back in Japan will claim they're having an affair.
The cordon began moving down into one of the back streets, where the crowd still followed. The alleys were narrow, and it was all Diethard could do to keep up with the couple. They didn't have to go far to arrive at the main attraction.
Old man lined the street, broken and tired, clad only in rags. Some were covered in sores that wept from their necks, their chests, their arms. Others were emaciated, covered in flies. They held out their hands, these untouchables, begging for alms.
As if on cue, Lady C-Two knelt next to a man with a long, ratty gray beard. She gave him broth to drink from a thermos, cradled his face in her hands, whispered something in his ear that Diethard couldn't pick up. Whatever it was, the old man smiled.
With a gesture from Spacer, Black Knights carrying medical supplies, food, and even some stretchers filed into the alleyway. As they distributed aid to the sick and the weary, Diethard panned his camera over the crowd.
There was a variety of reactions: sad, hopeful, jubilant, angry. It was a healthy mix, really, with little to stereotype; the wealthy in the crowd showed themselves just as capable of compassion, the poor just as much of anger.
That hardly mattered. In the editing bay, he could reverse roles, flip sentiment, warp perception. This video would be broadcast all across India.
Why? Diethard wondered. This sort of reporting is certain to inflame passions, create divisions. Why would Zero want this kind of instability in an ally?
…
Hirose Hospital, Sendai, Miyagi Prefecture, United States of Japan
Urabe scowled darkly. He stood on top of what had once been the Hirose Hospital, staring out over the battered remnants of Sendai. The roof was blackened and strewn with rubble; skeletons in lab coats and orderly scrubs still lay here and there. Gray clouds hung over the exposed ribcage of the city, lighting up briefly with each flash of fire. The distant booms of artillery, rocket launchers, and Knightmare explosions drifted over to him from his position. Through his binoculars, he thought he spied the faint flashes of small arms fire.
There were approximately eight hundred JLF still holed up in the city. They used demolition charges to knock down some of the still standing skyscrapers to block off the main traffic arteries across the Hirose River, ensuring that the route of attack would have to be down narrow streets transformed into chokepoints lined with IED's, mines, machine gun nests, and suicide attackers. Snipers were concealed in key cavities throughout the city, slowing down the infantry's advance even more. Urabe had only been assigned a hundred Burais for the offensive north; fully half of those were in disrepair.
I didn't expect Zero to give me the cream of the crop, he thought, but I thought he'd give me something!
Perhaps that wasn't fair. After all, Zero was focusing on getting the country back up on its feet after the trifecta of rebellion, immolation, and civil war.
But to Hell with him, Urabe was pissed.
You give me the operation of putting my own comrades to the sword, he raged silently, and don't even have the common courtesy to give me the tools I need!
"This engagement is taking too long," a man Urabe only knew as 'Taka' said. He was a Britannian with green dyed hair. He wore a greatcoat over a three-piece suit and a pair of aviator sunglasses. He sat just behind Urabe on a wooden crate. In front of him sat a metal thermos on top of a stack of plastic RPC's. "The First Consul wants the north pacified."
"If you're so concerned," Urabe ground out, "then perhaps you'd like to get your boss on the hog and maybe get me more troops."
Taka smiled. "Our boss," he said, placing heavy emphasis on 'Our.' "Our boss has given you a specific objective. Your job is surgical. Precise. Had you compelled their surrender, as I advised, we would not still be here."
"Those men worship General Tohdoh like a god," Urabe said. "The Last Stand turned him into a martyr."
An explosion resounded in the distance.
Taka brushed nonexistant dust from his coat. "Their god is dead, General Urabe," he said. "Benedict Tohdoh shares the fate of all traitors." Urabe bristled at the epithet.
Taka smiled dangerously. "Yourself mercifully excepted," he added needlessly. "An exception, I remind you, that can be overturned."
Urabe clenched his fists. "I can't do my job if I don't have the necessary resources," he snarled.
"The First Consul defeated a Viceroy with overwhelming numerical and technological superiority," Taka reminded him smugly. "He did so with just seven untrained terrorists." He jerked his thumb at the city. "Can you not defeat a force not half as strong as yours, with thrice the equipment?"
Urabe gritted his teeth. "It's easier to hold a position than take it," he retorted.
"And easier to complain than to try, I imagine."
Taka grabbed a thermos from the table. He uncapped it, poured steaming tea into a metal cup, capped it, and set it down.
"You have two days, General," he warned him, "before I recommend sending a replacement." He lowered his glasses so he could look Urabe in the eye. His eyes were cobalt, unfeeling. "I suggest you succeed before then."
…
Colonel Spacer's Private Quarters, New Delhi AeroCity Hotel, Republic of India
"With the Order spread out among the warring parties, neutralizing it will be essential. Once the Guren Seiten is ready, Kallen and I will lead the Black Tigers in an assault on their citadel."
C-Two placed her hand on the map point with an X. "This is?"
"Their base," he answered. "V-Two is likely headquartered here," he said. "This is the location of the Order's hidden fortress. If we can take over the facility without too much damage, we'll have a treasure trove of information that we can use against the Empire."
C-Two trailed her hand from the map to his fingertips, then up his hand along his arm, stopping at his bicep. "Is that the only reason you want to get your hands on that place?" she asked.
He let out a hard breath. "It's possible there might be some way to restore your memories hidden in their archives," he admitted.
C-Two hummed. "An interesting assumption," she said. She sat down on the table with an alluring look, her lime hair veiling the snow white skin of her face, amber eyes dilated.
She was as beautiful as she had been in the market. Buying the necklace had been planned in advance; snapping it around the smooth, ivory column of her throat hadn't. The feeling of her soft skin was intoxicating.
He turned away from her. "Less assumption and more hope," he said. "One which may be forlorn."
Most likely was forlorn. He couldn't remember having found anything related to C-Two's amnesia in the previous timeline, but he at least had to try.
"But then I might go away," she pointed out. She grabbed his hand, brought it to her lips. "Don't you like me?" she asked him, her lips brushing against his fingers as she spoke.
Lelouch couldn't answer. He leaned in close. Her eyes were hooded.
"You're not her," he whispered to her. "And if you think that I'm some hormonal teenager that you can wrap around your finger, then you are sorely mistaken."
She batted her eyelashes. "Then why have you not let me go?" she wondered aloud.
He watched her pink tongue slide out to wet her lips.
He let go of her face, carefully schooling his features. "I'm a glutton for punishment."
She laughed, low and sultry.
…
Convent of the Salesas Reales, Madrid, Unincorporated Area 24
Jeremiah's inquiry was a short affair. Outside surveillance footage showed Sir Manfredi walking off the edge of the balcony with no signs of duress. Autopsy reports proved that there was nothing in his system save the wine and food he'd had just prior to his death. Eyewitness testimony from Sir Shin Hyuga Shaing, now officially the Grandmaster of the Knights of Michael, confirmed that Manfredi's depression over the return of ancient properties had been the trigger for his suicide. The entire trial was over in less than a few hours.
His meeting afterward with the heads of the other Knightly Orders was much less successful.
"It seems Shaing is willing to give you a command, Margrave," Lord Farnese told him coldly. They stood in the parish church of the convent, its high walls and arches forming an ancient dome above their heads. Neoclassical art and murals depicting the images of angels and the divine adorned the walls around them. The images of the long lost Kings of Spain bore silent witness. "In that capacity, we will coordinate with you as necessary to ensure the success of the invasion. But we will have no meetings beyond that."
"Lord Farnese-"
"A good man has died, Lord Gottwald," Saint-Gilles broke in, his ancient voice cracking with muted grief. "For reasons that we still do not fully know. I know you have not told us everything."
"You must-"
du Villon grabbed him by the shoulder, jerking him around. "Nothing, Gottwald, we must nothing! My best friend and dearest comrade is dead!" He looked like a feral beast. "You ever speak to me outside a briefing room, I'll kill you!" The huge knight said nothing else, stomping out of the church.
Jeremiah wanted to tear his hair out. I need to tell them!
He turned to Farnese. "My Lord, please, listen to me!" he begged. "You're right, there's details I did not share in court, but it's because they wouldn't believe me!"
"Then share them with us," Saint-Gilles said. "Let us decide the veracity of what you say."
Farnese nodded. "Was there some unidentifiable drug in his system? Some extortion, perhaps?"
"No, My Lord, it was Shaing!"
Farnese and Saint-Gilles exchanged glances. "I trust that upjumped Eleven less than I trust you," Saint-Gilles allowed.
"He does stand to profit the most from this," Farnese agreed. "What did he do?"
"He told Sir Manfredi to take a trip!"
Both Grandmasters looked confused.
"'Take a trip?'" Saint-Gilles repeated.
Jeremiah nodded excitedly. "Yes, My Lord, just that! Take a trip!"
"There was nothing else?" Farnese asked. "No threats, no words of warning?"
"That's it," Jeremiah confirmed.
Saint-Gilles turned briefly to Farnese. "I must return to my duties, Lord Farnese," he said, bowing slightly. "If you'll excuse me."
Farnese returned his bow with a nod. Saint-Gilles brushed past a gaping Jeremiah after du Villon.
Farnese raised an eyebrow. "Have you nothing else, Margrave?"
"My Lord, I..." Jeremiah fished for the right words. "My Lord, I can't explain it because I don't understand it myself. One moment we were talking, then the next Shaing just told him to take a trip. Sir Manfredi's face went slack. It was as if...as if..."
"As if what, Margrave?"
"As if Sir Manfredi was no longer there," Jeremiah finished. "As if some light had winked out, leaving him in darkness."
"What was it you were discussing?"
"The restoration of our ancient lands and privileges."
Farnese narrowed his eyes. "That's not worth killing a man over," he said. "Especially not the Grandmaster of the Knights of Michael. What were you discussing?"
Jeremiah's throat went dry. His heart all but stopped. I can't just say "Overthrowing the Emperor"!
He especially couldn't say that Manfredi was killed for opposing it.
"We...I..." Jeremiah mumbled haltingly.
Farnese's expression turned to stone. "Goodbye, Margrave," he said, and followed his fellows out.
Jeremiah's shoulders sagged. He placed a hand to his face. "Forgive me, Your Highness."
"Looks like you're stuck with us!"
Jeremiah whipped around.
Sir Ashley leaned against the doorway, a vicious smirk on his face. He flashed Jeremiah a V sign.
"Boy," he said, "I wonder how Shin's gonna like this?"