Coup d'�tat

November 3rd, 2022 a.t.b.

Morning found them up if not exactly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Coffee helped. As did another shower. At the appointed time, an aircraft carrier was given clearance to land at the private airstrip behind the Palace where a group of select personnel were ready to receive them.

The cargo doors of the carrier opened first and the woman who stepped out onto the tarmac was unmistakably Nina, though she had matured since Ashford Academy. Behind her was someone else who looked like he was cast from the classic mould for “eccentric scientist” and a tall figure that Suzaku would know anywhere.

“Gino!”

“Yo! Suza--I mean Your Majesty,” Gino said, making the formal obeisance. So much for being temporarily incognito.

“I am so going to ban bowing and kneeling,” Suzaku said tightly as everyone else from the handlers to the aircraft crew followed suit. “Gino, get up--there’s a reason why that sort of thing is done indoors and not on the tarmac.”

“Habit,” Gino said with a shrug as he brushed off his knee. “Nothing a good laundering won’t cure.”

“More to the point,” Lelouch said, “does this mean you’ve defected, Knight of Three?”

“Do I get to make it official?” Gino asked, but he was dead serious as he looked Suzaku in the eye. “By tradition, a Knight of Rounds serves the Emperor that appointed him. As the Emperor is missing, presumed deceased, I am no longer the Knight of Three.”

“Freelancing, are you?” Suzaku asked, looking at the aircraft carrier behind him. The hold was now fully exposed and if he was not mistaken, that was the tell-tale shape of Gino’s Tristan inside.

“Civilian transport. They wanted a lift to their chosen place of asylum, so I helped them out.”

“Sir Weinberg was very helpful,” Nina piped up. She looked uncertainly at Suzaku and Lelouch before going for the safe option of a curtsy--a difficult thing to achieve in pants and a lab coat. “Your Majesty, I am seeking asylum--”

“Granted, so long as you stop doing that,” Suzaku said quickly. “You look like you left in a hurry.”

“Yeah, but you should see what they managed to bring along,” Gino stated, waving at the aircraft carrier. The other scientist was running around trying to supervise the unloading of several crates.

“That’s Ian Bolton, my mentor. Former, I mean,” Nina said. “He’s a specialist in nuclear fission. And those are the hard drives and computers we managed to-to--”

“Steal,” Gino supplied helpfully. Nina flushed uncomfortably.

“Take away with us,” Ian Bolton protested, turning back from haranguing the handlers. He sounded quite sharp despite his scattered appearance. “It’s our work.”

“The issue of your intellectual rights is not the problem here,” Lelouch injected smoothly, gesturing to the ushers in attendance. “I’m sure you’ve had a tiring journey. As His Majesty has granted asylum, please rest before a debriefing can be arranged.”

Their guests and their potentially sensitive baggage were quickly hustled off as the landing strip was cleared once again for another incoming craft.

“I thought we only had one special guest this morning,” Suzaku said to Lelouch.

“I thought so too,” Lelouch said, listening to the report coming through his earpiece. They watched as the next aircraft--a sleek ultra-modern passenger carrier--landed neatly on the airstrip.

The familiar figure of Euphemia li Britannia, most definitely not a princess at the moment, emerged from the passenger compartment pushing a wheelchair containing Nunnally vi Britannia, still technically a princess of the Britannian Empire.

“Euphie? Nunnally?” It looked like Nina had been sent to the right place . . .

“I heard you were looking for someone to overhaul the royal archives and prune the imperial etiquette and formalities,” she said, waving cheerfully as the manual lift was wheeled over to assist in moving Nunnally’s wheelchair. “Do I get an interview, Your Majesty?”

“You can start by stopping that right now,” Suzaku muttered as Lelouch hid his expression behind a fake cough.

“I had to tag along--so I hope Your Majesty doesn’t mind,” Nunnally said before she was embraced by her older brother the second the lift touched the ground.

This was the kind of attack that Suzaku had no defences for and no preparation against. Lelouch was going to be of no help at the moment.

Behind the ladies were Jeremiah and Sayoko, looking as stoic as good retainers should--but there was a suspicious twinkle in their eyes as they observed the scene.

“Euphie--it’s not--”

“Oh please, why shouldn’t I get to see your coronation? Unless you would like to order me back . . .”

“Of course not,” Suzaku said, admitting defeat.

“Good, now we’ll say we’re sorry to be imposing, but it’ll only be for a while,” Euphemia said, giving Suzaku a peck on the cheek that promised other things to come later. “Lelouch! We’re so sorry for dropping in out of the blue, but Nunnally misses you.”

At the receiving end of a sisterly kiss, Lelouch raised his eyebrows helplessly at Suzaku and extended his arm to Euphie, who took it graciously. “Euphie, Nunnally, I’ll have your rooms readied,” he said. “How about the suite overlooking the garden in the west wing?”

“That sounds lovely, Brother!”

“Indeed . . . Now have you eaten? I can smell coffee on your breath--don’t tell me that’s all you had for breakfast?”

Taking their cue from the former princess, the attendants formed up into two rows and bowed. Suzaku, realising that they were expecting him to move first, started walking. Sayoko took charge of Nunnally’s wheelchair and they made their way back to the Palace proper.

“In case he ever asks--” Lelouch began, sotto voce, to his half-sister when they lagged behind for a moment.

“About the call you made to Jeremiah and Sayoko? That will remain between you and me, Lelouch,” Euphie said with a wink as she leaned on his arm. “Let’s have brunch now, shall we?”

“Certainly, but a short one--there’s a debrief we have to attend. I fear we might be in for it again . . . You may or may not want to sit in for this one, Euphie.”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

June 8th, 2017 a.t.b.

Physiotherapy was a welcome change from the sterile dullness of the hospital ward. The sooner he was discharged, the sooner he could get out to continue . . . whatever it was that he and Lelouch had hazily touched upon that day on the roof.

But he had been hearing things around the wards and on the physiotherapy floor.

There had been rumbles of discontent from the Honorary Britannian Japanese. They had been watching the news reports and waiting. Wondering if anything was going to come of the investigation of one Yanagi Takahito, who had the misfortune to be the nearest Honorary Britannian to the scene of the crime.

Suzkau knew Yanagi as a more-vocal-than-average member of the cohort of Honorary Britannian soldiers. They had been in the same unit during basic training. It had been Yanagi who had spoken up about the Hokkaido affair-- another horrible mess that had been swept under the carpet by Internal Affairs.

It was generally agreed that while Yanagi had not technically done anything wrong, he was the most convenient target they could find. A talkative Eleven whose comments had bordered on treasonous at one point.

Suzaku remembered the Hokkaido incident. How he had learned about the bitter reality of Honorary Britannians in the army. How close he had been to being in the same boat as Yanagi . . .

“Your vastus lateralis is certainly on the mend,” the physiotherapist said, looking over his thigh approvingly. “You were lucky you were only winged. A few more sessions and you’ll be fit for duty again.”

He emerged from the physiotherapy unit and got away from the well-meaning but overly curious therapist on duty. It would never do to have them question his unusually swift recovery.

Back in the ward, he found someone looking for him.

“Private Kururugi, is it?” the man with Lieutenant rank tabs asked, a little irate that he had been kept waiting.

“Yes, sir.” He could have used the excuse of his condition to avoid standing up to salute the Lieutenant, but he did not.

“Earl Asplund and his assistant, Ms Cecile Croomy, have requested to see you,” the man said and his expression was dubious because he could not imagine why a member of the nobility would want to speak with an Eleven. “They’re on the third floor.”

His visitors were a man in a slightly rumpled lab coat and a woman in crisply-pressed uniform. They had the not-exactly-military look to them that told Suzaku that they were not army regulars.

“Congratulations! You’re in better shape than we expected!” the man who was presumably the Earl exclaimed when Suzaku entered the small meeting room. The woman frowned at the Earl and made the proper introductions.

“Private Kururugi,” she began, “have you heard of the new seventh generation KMFs?”

Suzaku allowed that he had heard some talk of such a thing, but as he was only a Private, he was not privy to the details.

“Congratulations!” the Earl exclaimed again. “You’ve just been selected to participate in a working trial of the newest seventh generation KMF!”

“We have to warn you,” Cecile Croomy said quickly. “The experimental model has no ejection mechanism.”

“Which we will put in,” Earl Asplund chipped in.

“--Eventually. When we finally get more funding,” Cecile said, glaring at the Earl, who withered slightly at some silent rebuke.

“And that’s where you come in, Private Kururugi,” Asplund said, rebounding gleefully. “Your KMF simulator scores are the best in the current cohort.”

“But Honorary Britannians aren’t allowed to pilot KMFs,” Suzaku said, even as the realisation of what they wanted from him dawned bright and clear. They needed more funding and to get it, they required results.

“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if we borrowed you--”

“Meaning that we have the Second Prince’s backing for the project,” Cecile said, producing a clipboard and shooting another dirty look at the Earl. “We’ll have to increase your security clearance, of course.”

Suzaku listened carefully to their explanations and read the forms dutifully. Of course it was permissable to requisition Honorary Britannians on medical leave for experimental KMF testing. Very few experienced pilots would want to test-drive an experimental model designed by a maverick scientist with no ejection mechanism.

But he also knew that this was no chance opportunity that had landed on his lap. His Geass again, creating the opportunity he had been wishing for.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The witch walked through the boundaries of time and space, passing through the various worlds and possibilities of worlds until she reached her destination. It was not her favourite place to be, but it was a familiar stop amidst her wanderings.

Someday, the boy might not be sitting in this dreary room surrounded by the darkness of his past. That day was not today.

C.C. looked over at the spot where the bloodstains usually were. Kururugi Genbu’s corpse occupied the space now--a sign that things were very bleak indeed. You’re a cheerful one today she said to the figure on the sofa.

It’s going to be the end of Honorary Britannian Japanese serving in the armed forces soon if Yanagi gets convicted Suzaku said. He was too close now for a gang of Purists to start dictating who was allowed in the military.

That is going problematic . . . for you. C.C. leaned against the back of the sofa. So what will you do?

Suzaku did not say anything for a while. It was risky . . . what he was about to propose. Tell Lelouch about the Hokkaido incident.

Are you sure? C.C. had access to all his memories, but she was reserved about prying. He tried to extend that same courtesy to her whenever he chanced upon her domain.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

May 9th, 2016 a.t.b.

The vast expanses of wilderness in Hokkaido provided ample room for military training exercises. The flora and fauna of springtime was probably lost on the trainees grunting and huffing their way through a wilderness survival course. The trail was uneven and they were carrying full packs for this exercise on a cloudless afternoon.

Suzaku was halfway up a slope when he heard someone cried out. He turned to see that one of the trainees behind him on the trail had slipped and fallen. Some of the others behind him had stopped to check on him.

“Leave him alone and keep moving!” The strident brass tones of the sergeant rang down from the top of the slope.

“But sir, Noguchi could be hurt!” Suzaku had dared to speak out first. His Britannian was better than that of his peers and therefore more difficult for any superiors to ignore.

“You don’t get paid to think, Kururugi--get moving!” The sergeant in charge of this leg of the training course was a hulking bull of a man, wide and stocky even by Britannian standards.

“I think he needs help, sir!” One of the trainees beside Noguchi had straightened up to look at the sergeant. “He might be injured!”

It had been Yanagi, another trainee with a passable grasp of Britannian, who had done the primary survey of the prone figure. A year older than Suzaku, he should have been promoted to active duty by now, but certain factors had held him back.

The sergeant, swearing in disgust, had made his way down to where they were. “All right, I’ll take care of this! Get your asses up that slope now!”

The slope was actually a small hillock. At the top, the trail would dip gradually into the next leg of the course. The recruits turned away from their fallen member reluctantly and shouldered their packs once more for the uphill climb.

At the top of the hillock, no one dared to rest, but Suzaku slowed down. From the corner of his eye, he saw that Yanagi had hung back and was looking back up the trail. He looked around and saw Suzkau staring at him. As if daring him to say anything about it, Yanagi had gone back up to the top of the trail and looked back down the slope.

Suzaku joined him a moment later, but Yanagi stopped him with one outthrust arm. Sucking in a shallow breath, Suzaku followed his lead and peered over the rise carefully.

The sergeant was haranguing Noguchi to get up, applying the “encouragement” that usually took the form of yelling and cussing. It had been the norm for most of their training, so they did not see anything of note, until Noguchi tried to speak.

“What’s that?” the sergeant had bellowed. “If you can’t speak properly, then don’t speak!”

The kick he delivered next had been entirely unexpected by the watchers. Suzaku almost made a noise in disbelief. Yanagi’s hand clamped around his arm in warning.

“Get up, you worthless idiot!” A few more kicks drove Kawaguchi to his feet. Wincing and lurching, he had shouldered his pack and wobbled to his feet to continue on his way.

Yanagi shrugged at Suzaku and they continued along the trail wordlessly, mildly troubled by what they had seen. Suzaku had been rigorously suppressing the Geass and he had not felt anything stronger than a tingle of unease.

Later that evening, at base camp, Noguchi complained of abdominal pains. Three hours later, he was pronounced dead by the medic. Internal bleeding--no doubt caused by the fall along the rocky trail up the slope.

The ink was barely dry on his death certificate--death by misadventure--when Yanagi had sought out the CO and reported the incident with the sergeant.

The CO had spoken to Yanagi at length, but nothing came of it. The entire matter was shelved, shoved under the carpet and forgotten.

If Yanagi had spoken to Suzaku before that, his Geass would have activated to warn him of the investigation that would never happen. The death certificate that would remain unchanged. Yanagi’s eventual transfer to another unit to prevent him from making any more noise.

Yanagi’s mouth had no doubt got him into trouble again after the transfer to draw down the ire of the Purists.

Bad luck again. Wrong place, wrong timing. But he had been right in reporting the incident.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

You couldn’t actually help him at that time C.C. said laconically, withdrawing delicately from his memories. It was no wonder his thoughts were so dark today, especially if he was remembering that incident. It’s not as though you didn’t want to.

I could have backed him up.

But you knew the consequences of that, didn’t you? Her amber-gold eyes narrowed. Both of you would not have come out of it unharmed.

He could have died. One of the possibilities of that route had been especially grim. A great many Britannians in the military did not take kindly to former Numbers trying to upset the status quo. Especially small fry like trainee recruits. His Geass would have ensured that he survived the confrontation, but Yanagi would not be so lucky.

In not a single one of the possibilities had there been justice for the death of one of their own.

Knowing all that did not make Suzaku feel any better.

It’s not like you owe him anything.

It’s not just for him Suzaku said, thinking of the other Honorary Britannians who had been following the trial on the news.

The witch looked doubtful, but she would deliver his message, couched in suitably ambiguous terms or hints, to Lelouch.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

June 11th, 2017 a.t.b.

Ougi closed the file containing all the hard copies of their information on the Yanagi case after double-checking against the soft copies on disc. “That’s everything then. Soft copies are all ready for sending.”

“It should be enough, with Zero’s testimony finally on record,” Chieko said, stretching with a yawn. Before the war, she had been a paralegal secretary in training and her skills were not going to waste now.

The facts were clear. Yanagi Takehito was on communications duty on the day of the Shinjuku Incident. His perchance for shooting his mouth off had led to a spotty record that included very minimal arms-handling and even less direct action.

It had been Zero’s--Lelouch’s--suggestion that they check up on his background. A lucky break for them for it meant that Yanagi’s record would have disqualified him from a posting anywhere near the central command centre and barred him from having the access codes necessary to get to there. It also highlighted his obvious candidacy as a scapegoat for the Purists, who had fallen out of favour as a result of attempting to suppress evidence.

That had been a lucky break for them--someone in the BBI had blown the whistle on the insiders responsible for hiding the video disc with Zero’s testimonial, which had been confirmed to have been delivered the day after the Shinjuku Incident.

Their eyes and ears in the military had informed them that the case was probably going to be dismissed against Yanagi. For once the Britannians’ love for swift justice would be working in their favour. In fact, it would be over before the new Viceroy, Cornelia li Britannia, was due to come in and take over.

Some of their rapidly growing ranks had questioned helping Honorary Britannians, but Zero had said that it would expose Britannian prejudice and strengthen their cause.

“Our work here is done,” Ougi said, pressing the “send” button to deliver the soft copies by email to the insider in the BBI who had promised that he would get it all broadcasted. It was also a test to determine if the man could be trusted and to see how competent he was before allowing him into the ranks. “You should get back and rest.”

“Okay, but what about you?”

“I’m conferencing online with Zero at ten-thirty,” Ougi said, gesturing at the computer screen. “He can’t always be here--you know why . . .”

The core members knew that Lelouch the student had to maintain his cover. It was a risky business to lead such a double life, but the Britannian boy was nothing but committed.

“You know, I remember the news-bites from seven years ago--there was a tiny picture of him and his sister that someone had taken at the airport. I thought he was an adorable little boy--of course, I was only twenty-one back then,” Chieko added reflectively.

“And now?”

“Not very adorable and very angry,” she said. “The bastard Clovis deserved it, but he was his half-brother after all.”

For the Japanese, the family unit was the ultimate cornerstone of life. Lelouch’s cold-blooded execution of his own brother had been a chilling reminder that the boy was the result of a very different background. Some historical back-checking had yielded up generations of in-fighting amongst the contentious, ruthless and bloodthirsty members of the Britannian royal family.

The Emperor had outright encouraged such competition and had fanned the flames by having over a hundred wives with potential successors being born every year. It was enough to turn schoolboys into revolutionaries.

“Would we have believed him if he had not killed Clovis? He was making a point to us too.” Ougi did not approve of boys killing their brothers, but it had been the only way to stop the massacre. They were in an uneasy alliance to achieve both their goals and the outcome was still up in the air. “It might get harder now that Cornelia is taking over.”

By all accounts, the Second Princess was a season military campaigner--second only to Schneizel on the battlefield.

The computer chimed and a message window popped up to inform him of an incoming request for a conversation. Chieko picked up her stuff and waved at him before she left him to it.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

June 13th, 2017 a.t.b.

That afternoon, after his physiotherapy session, Suzaku returned to the floor housing the injured Honorary Britannians and found it a hive of activity.

The verdict was in. Someone had got a message from someone else who had heard the news first hand. Lack of evidence. Case dismissed.

Along the corridors, various noises of subdued discussion could be heard. The warded Honorary Britannians were spreading the word, glad for some good news for a change.

“But everyone knows it was Zero’s doing--”

“Some cover-up’s going on for certain!”

“I knew Yanagi from when we were in school, you know?”

And there were others who remained subdued despite the news. They were the ones who had participated in the primary razing of the ghetto and were silently regretting every moment of it. Suzaku wished he did not know what they felt and clamped down on his Geass so that he would not have to see the end results of that kind of guilt.

It was probably cowardly, but he could not save everyone. Not like this. There had to be a change so that no one would have to be ordered to kill their former countrymen again. The kick in the pants that Lelouch had offered him had arrived just in time, as had the timely intervention for Yanagi’s case.

For this, he would owe Lelouch. At least enough for him to maintain his silence for now.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

June 14th, 2017 a.t.b.

For this, you owe me pizza for the whole year C.C. thought as she lay in wait in the shadows of a three-storey parking lot.

She found what she was looking for moments later as a young man crossed the road in front of her. Behind him, about a hundred metres away, a trio of shadowy figures were on his trail.

As Zero was an elusive target at best, the less intelligent Purists had found other outlets through which to vent their anger at being thwarted. Suzaku had asked C.C to intervene after the Geass warned him of the potential backlash after the trial.

C.C. waited until the silent pursuers were almost directly under her perch before descending silently.

They did not know what hit them. It was the whole point of this exercise. They would wake up with sore heads and little memory of how they had been rendered unconscious.

Yanagi Takehito would never know that he had barely escaped with his life that night.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

It was not as though she could not cope with the tasks so politely requested of her. The witch had learned a great many things in her long and eventful life. She had done worse for her past accomplices before.

It irked her that she went along with them so easily though. It was easy to blame it on his Geass--she suspected that it was doing certain things that even she could not sense.

But it did not perturb her very much. If there was one thing she was good at, it was going with the flow.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

June 15th, 2017 a.t.b.

Physiotherapy and another medical exam had cleared him for active duty again. The doctor had said that he was lucky, but he could take a few more days of medical leave if he wanted. He declined, knowing that if he stayed any longer, Lelouch would kill him for saddling him with C.C., or C.C. would think up something intensely embarrassing to torture him with. It was enough to galvanise him into action.

He had read the operation manuals during the long hours of bed rest, redoubled his training schedule and got back into shape so that he could go for Earl--“just call me Lloyd”--Asplund’s tests and do a trial run. Free of doctors and physiotherapists, he was finally discharged from the hospital that morning.

Another visit to Lloyd’s laboratory-cum-workshop followed and it was past noon when he finally had time for himself.

Not very much time for leisure, actually. There was a witch he was supposed to take out for pizza in the evening--the beginning of a great many instalments of payment via pizza. He had to face the terrifying reality of cheese-filled high-calorie dinners and do additional reps for it--

“Look out below!”

A girl had leapt out from a fifth-floor window--and she was plummeting his way.

Suzaku automatically braced himself for the impact of catching her. She was not heavy, but the acceleration of her fall temporarily knocked the wind out of both of them. She was shorter than he was, he noticed as he set her back on her feet. A teenager with a girlish face and womanly curves--he put her around the same age as he was.

Whatever possessed her to jump out of a window that high up? Suzaku noticed the rope made of twisted curtains hanging out of the window a moment later.

“I’m so sorry, but I’m trying to escape from some people who are chasing me. Can you help me?” she asked when she got her breath back.

Suzaku knew at once that she was lying. He saw the lines around her and realised in that instance that if he followed this path he would get so close that the power of the Geass would be eclipsed by what she would eventually mean to him.

Blinded by the light.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“So who was the girl this afternoon?” C.C. asked after swallowing a mouthful of cheese and pepperoni. Comfortably ensconced on the red vinyl seat of the booth they were sitting in, she was contentedly making her way through her fourth slice.

“Were you stalking me?” Suzaku knew that C.C. was not the clingy type, but she kept an eye on her investments.

“If I had to hang around anal-retentive boy-wonder for a moment longer, I would have killed him and you would not take me out for pizza,” C.C. said, helping herself to another slice. “I saw you . . . when you took her to the ghetto.”

“She said her name was Euphie.”

“Clever boy--you know she wasn’t telling you the whole truth.”

He had suspected as much when she had lied about her escape. After realising what the building she had jumped from, he had a vague idea. “Do you know who she is?”

“I’ll leave you find out.” The witch looked mildly amused. “Order the pasta if you’re not going to eat the pizza.”

“You never give the easy answers,” he complained.

“You need more surprises in your life.”

* * * * * * * * * * * *