tampered | Log;ongoing

Log;ongoing

When; At the end of the assault
Rating; PG-13
Characters; The Major

warconductor and Lelouch vi Britannia

lel0uch
Summary; The whole enterprise falls around the Major's ears. A great war machine reduced to rubble.

The leader of the rebellion wants to meet the man who could draw the City together. The leader of the rebellion, and perhaps none other so far, has figured out exactly how deep this rabbit hole goes.

Log;

It had been, thus far, a very interesting experience being one of the Major's "unfortunate" captives. He had intended to involve himself in the situation one way or another, to somehow use it to the Celestial Knights' advantage, but he had certainly not anticipated being so closely involved. Now that he was here, however, he supposed that there was some room for thankfulness : he had the power, hadn't he? He could bend this situation to become something of a reasonably advantageous tool. He had told Lockon a few days ago that he had an inkling of a plan, and as he sat on the cold metal floor of his small cell, that plan was fast becoming concrete.

As the deities themselves had no limbs to speak of, no hierarchies to destroy -- at least, not that could easily be vilified as they themselves could be -- he needed a third wheel to set his plans in motion. It was probably the closet he could get to sympathizing with the late Diethard, but at the very least, he knew that there was more genuine concern in himself for the better of the City's inhabitants than selfish desires for deeply pleasing, but unnecessary dramatics. It was true that he had his own reasons for going against the deities, but the deities, this city-- it was only a matter of time until someone like him actively rose against it.

And if the Celestial Knights could prove itself a better and more effective organization than something controlled by the deities...

Those thoughts were interrupted at the sound of the metal doors opening and, looking up, he regarded the two vampire henchmen with an unfazed look before checking his watch for the time; it was about ten past twelve. They were probably getting ready to take him to the feeding chambers. As they roughly forced him to stand, grunting incoherently as they did so, Lelouch studied this set of vampires. The ones that had abducted him and Yuuki had protective gear on themselves, making it nigh impossible to inflict them with the power of Geass, but these had no such gear on. Those otherworldly eyes were certainly laid bare, begging to be used.

Head hung, Lelouch purposely stumbled forward before they could escort him out of his cell. The accident allowed him to move his chained hands to his eyes, without arousing too much suspicion, and to remove a contact. That should be enough, he thought smugly. He had assumed there would be a short window of delay before they moved to force him back upwards, and he was right. Knowing that their attention would be on him, he quickly turned his body, enough to be within the vampire henchmen's line of sight, and briefly ordered, "Obey me."

The effects were instantaneous, and they grunted in what sounded like agreement and respect at once. Lelouch smiled, satisfied with the success of Geass before putting his contacts back on.

***

It was quite nice, as wars went. Not as epic or as crushing as he would have preferred under perfect conditions, but it was, at the end of the day, only the prelude.

That music which plays before the real show began.

He had sent his last men away to the safehouses, leaving himself alone in the room. Everything had to be set just so. The computers frying as the data self-destructed (safely backed up already, of course).

A table between his command chair and one brought for this purpose. Two glasses and a fine pinot noir. A chess set.

A Luger set on each side, completely loaded.

This was, in the end, the whole point, after all.

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Now, armed with two Geassed vampire henchmen who would sooner kill each other without hesitation than defy his explicit orders, Lelouch was confident in his abilities to escape the current situation at hand. Once effective, always effective; that was one thing he found of his Geass. He knew too, that, in theory, and judging by the state the henchmen were at within the ship, he could certainly move to release the other innocents the Major had captured ( including, but not limited to, Yuuki ).

Despite this rational, he chose instead to go straight for the King on the other side of the board; the Major. As a result of the rather showy media stunt the Major had pulled earlier, he had no doubt that at least a half of the city's significant players had seen the broadcast and were therefore reasonably affected. It would make sense to assume that at least a fraction of that number would move to action, and of course, within the city, just 'a fraction' meant much considering the powers some of its inhabitants possessed. It would be a waste, he decided, of his own efforts to come to the others' aid... at least, for now. He had no reason to believe yet that they could not be trusted to be competent at least.

He gave his newly-created subordinates orders to lead him to the Major, confident in the fact that, as he had requested, the rules of Geass would ensure that they do it within their normal protocol. The halls were long and often, bearing little in way of differentiating one from another. Once in a while, he'd spot hints of a vastly thorough security system, the likes of which caused a spark of suspicion within Lelouch. By the time he'd reached the doors he assumed would lead him to the Major, the novelty of having successfully outsmarted his opponent had all but worn off.

This was no success; his opponent might as well have rolled the red carpet out of him. Still, he had a pride to uphold. For now, he'd let the Major believe he had not caught on to that and play the brilliant, but over-confident and naive, teenaged leader. Where there was an advantage to be had, no matter how petty, if it could serve a purpose, then he'd take it. It was an absolute necessity considering the fact that he had no real information on the Major yet; no real information that could help him break down the "man's" thought processes.

When the door opened he strode in confidently, and pretended to be only mildly surprised of the setting that awaited him.

There was no use playing out an obvious surprise; he did intend to come off as being mildly competent. However, there was the question of why this man had thought to do such for him.

While Lelouch, naturally, was confident in his abilities to impress, the Major was special in his own league; mere intelligence wasn't going to impress this man.

He knew something.

"Good Evening," he greeted conversationally, before taking a seat across the Major. "I see you want me to play White?" he noted of the chess board arrangement.

"Only if you don't object," the Major said, uncorking the bottle of wine. "As you are the guest, I thought it polite to offer you First Move Advantage."

So this was the man who was bold enough to lead the rebellion. Not quite a man, in point of fact, still just a boy in many ways. As he had seen in Light, though, great idealogical audacity was a young man's game. One had to be a boy to so want such great change, and think that oneself was the only vessel for it.

The old had different priorities.

Behind the Major, screens were flickering, some of the glass broken out all over the floor. They showed the minutiae of the remaining battle, security footage following the assault teams and the rescued prisoners.

In a particularly glorious explosion, several screens were washed in a flood of white. Lelouch's made a quick glance to note the presence of the screen, before nonchalantly moving to move his right-hand knight.

"I appreciate your forethought, and accept it. Knight to F4." He moved the knight to the block he'd mentioned before planting an elbow on his chair's armrest and leaning casually on his propped up hand.

"If I may ask, how long do you think do we have before they obliterate your forces?" he asked as he waited for the Major's move. There were to possible answers to his question; one, the Major could feign insult as a result of his supposed "underestimation", two, the Major could come clean with his intent to be overwhelmed in the first place. It didn't, after all, look like his minions were making that much of an effective stance against the enemies. They were disorganized, no matter how advantageous in some areas, and to Lelouch, he didn't see it possible that a man such as the Major could amass such a force and yet deploy and utilize them as haphazardly.

Lelouch was, truthfully, just waiting for the second answer.

The Major moved his pawn forward and reached in to his jacket pocket. He produced a silver fob watch with an intricate black engraving of a Swastika on the back. He gently thumbed the top and the case flipped open.

He stared at it for a moment, holding his other hand out, finger open. He made a brief motion with this hand, and another explosion rocked the ship. He flipped the watch closed.

"I would say we have a half hour to forty-five minutes before the armor moves in to deliver the coup d' gras."

Had Lelouch been from any other world than his, then he would have recognized the sign on the Major's watch, and it would have easily given him a glimpse of the Major's true intentions. As it was, with the Holy Britannian Empire having had a significant influence on the world before the rise of the Third Reich occurred in many other worlds, the movement simply had no chance to gain the momentum it needed to spark a world war.

He moved a pawn to mirror, though not completely, the Major's movement, but it was a half-hearted move at most, knowing very well that neither were truly focused on the match at hand. This was simply a distraction. "That isn't much time at all, but it should be enough," Lelouch said simply after completing the move. "It would require us to get straight to the heart of the matter, but, I suppose, you're fine with that?"

He sat back and crossed one leg over the other. "I don't recall properly introducing ourselves. As you have given me the privilege of playing White in our game, I assume this means I must introduce myself formally first. I am Lelouch vi Britannia, and as you may have heard, the 99th Emperor of the Holy Empire of Britannia."

Edited 2009-04-25 18:41 (UTC)

"I am the Major," he said, returning his pocket watch. "I left an actual name long behind me on the battlefield. I am a Sturmbannführer of the Waffen Schutzstaffel, Totenkopf Death's Head Division of the Third Reich of Germany. Commander of the Letze Battalion, Director of the Millennium Artificial Vampire Creation Project."

He reached forward to the chess board and made his return move. "But you are correct, we do not have the full deal of time that would be preferred. But such is the cards that have been dealt, and we must play them as best we can.

"Ah," Lelouch murmured quietly in agreement. "Indeed, we must play them the best we can, Major." He paused to study the move the Major had made, before quickly answering with another pawn.

"Then, without further ado; I'm curious about your true intent," he began as he sat back again. "I believe we've exchanged a few words over the network before, but to be honest, rather than rely on memory alone, I would rather hear it straight from you."

He clasped his hands together, and his eyes narrowed just slightly. "This whole operation seems grossly unnecessary, from my own standpoint, I see no instant benefit it could bring you. In fact, by doing so, you have only effectively caused various elements to band up against you, and therefore, put yourself in a disadvantage."

He unclasped his hands and waved a hand in nonchalant elaboration. "But, as I have said, this is from where I stand; from the looks of it, you stand to profit from this, indeed."

"A long time ago, on some worlds, a man named Nico Machiavelli noted that to obtain ones goals, one cannot set oneself on any particular means. Or limit oneself from a set of means."

He took a sip from his wine.

"I am a man who does the opposite. I set on no particular goals to obtain my means. I love war, in all its forms. Ground war, air war, espionage and holocaust. The sheer horrible bloody struggle brings me such joy that I know no way to express save through my oft-tired metaphor of a symphony. But, and this is the crucial point that most miss..."

He moved his knight out.

"I am not some mindless barbarian who simply hacks away at the first easy target. No. For me, for us who have spent so long in the darkness hiding, a mere war simply won't do. We must have... a great war. And the only war worth having is one against a worthy opponent. Against an opponent without peer. Otherwise..."

He shrugged in his chair.

"What is the point? One might as well call is a simple slaughter and call it at that."

With the other knight in one hand, Lelouch paused, eyes fixed on the board before them, and though a serious expression had come to play on his face, it was not for the game before him but for the words the Major had just spoken. After a few moments, and with a soft exhale, Lelouch finally made his move. "Ah, I recall our last meeting now," he said, almost disinterestedly. His eyes flickered from the board to the Major. "In short, this was all to create a great war."

He sat back, and although he kept a neutral expression, behind this mask, Lelouch was disgusted. This was nothing new, of course; the broadcasts the Major had personally made for all to see had told Lelouch this much, but to see the man face to face, and to see that outright nonchalance regarding the matter up close... It, truthfully, made Lelouch wish for the Major's destruction then and there.

But.

There was a but; he needed this man, perhaps. No matter how despicable, how monstrouse... Hadn't he and Suzaku agreed that they would use all means to bring about a better end? And in this situation, he needed the catalyst if he were to truly begin his rebellion.

"Does it please you that much?"

"It is what we do," the Major said. "But this? This is... nice. But really, as I said, for so long in the darkness, we need something larger. Something grander."

He leaned forward.

"There is an even greater enemy out in the night, Herr Lelouch. An even more powerful force. You and I both know this."

"The deities," Lelouch said quietly before eyeing the Major intently. He smiled then, and sat back. "But I can't trust an erratic catalyst like you, Major," the Emperor said finally.

That admission was cold, and though Lelouch refrained from elaborating, it was clear that though they shared a common goal, a common enemy, there was little chance of them meeting on the same grounds without certain compromises.

"Ah," he interrupted the silence suddenly, before the Major could say anything more. He glanced briefly at the guns, pistols really, set on the table, and picked one up. "These look like antiques," he said with a smile.

Edited 2009-04-27 21:47 (UTC)

"In this place, the concept of antiques becomes rather subjective," the Major replied, still smiling. He picked up his own. "Still, from mine and your perspective, these are antiques. The sidearm of most of the German Army during both of our World Wars."

He held it up to the light. "It lacks the additions that modern technology brought, but I find the design both appealing and nostalgic."

"And in the end, while not as efficient as recent models, it wounds an opponent just the same, especially in this proximity." The 99th Emperor of Britannia smiled serenely then, and while he looked every bit poised to shoot the Major using the gun he had provided, something else was going through his mind. He let the man puzzle over it for a while before, finally, allowing sliding a hand across his eyes. Like a magician making magic out of mere acts of deception, Lelouch's practiced fingers removed both his contacts in one swift move; and then he sat, both eyes glowing of the unnatural Geass.

"I, Lelouch vi Britannia, command you to obey me," he ordered in a clipped tone, and waited.

"Of course you do," the Major said. He glanced at his pocket watch. "Ah, excellent, with time to spare." He pulled the hammer back on his luger, still pointed at the ceiling. "And your first command, then?"

Reasonably satisfied with the response he had received, though he was not without just the slightest doubt of the Geass's effectiveness, Lelouch rearranged his contacts and sat back more leisurely. He took a moment, quickly running over his plans.

"I will inform you in the future if there are any specific orders I wish for you to carry out, through a secured connection over the network, or through manual carriers. You will know when I wish to contact you--" He waved a hand to elaborate, "and as such, I won't be wasting our time on the matter. What matters now is--"

He stopped himself, and then smiled. He continued again, but this time with a clearer, more imposing tone. "Major, I would like you to act within the boundaries I will set for you. You will cause distortions for the sake of my rebellion, and make a reason... a reason for the people to wish for their freedom. True freedom, not one that exists under the whims of self-defined gods."

When he finished, he uncrossed his legs and quietly stood up from his seat. He carried the gun in one hand. "Do you understand?"

The Major's smile grew larger as he placed his watch in his pocket.

"Excellent! You did not disappoint, Herr vi Britannia. I shall create distortions, create disruptions, create strife for your rebellion. I shall give the people their reason to wish for freedom."

He gestured with the luger. "Indeed, when serving a superior officer, I do try to anticipate his needs. But now, we must set the scene, mustn't we?"

The Geass forced its subjects to carry out the relayed order based on their own understandings, beliefs, knowledge, and basically every tiny nuance that made up the subject's persona. It bent wills with a force that was beyond human comprehension; and it was this very will that, Lelouch acknowledged, could undo him one day. But that was a problem for another day.

He lifted the weapon in his hand and aimed at the Major with a slight nod. "Yes," Lelouch said. "I appreciate your forethought, Major. In that case, I require you to shoot me first. It needs to be significant, but not fatal. Afterwards, I will shoot you as well. And, of course, you will allow me."

"I would hardly have given you the gun otherwise. I recommend the head, incidentally. The casing in the chest is extremely durable and the bullet would likely not penetrate."

He aimed the gun at Lelouch. "Now, we have two options. Either the leg, giving you a limp, or in the shoulder, requiring a sling. Either will give you a significant propaganda victory. Do you have a preference?"

"The arm, if you would please," Lelouch answered without missing a beat; he would need to make it to safety, after all, and there was his physical abilities, or the lack of it thereof, to acknowledge.

The Major shifted his aim and squeezed the trigger at Lelouch's shoulder.

The noise was almost pathetic in comparison to the explosions and crescendos around them.

But it was enough. It served.

"My turn," the Major said, lowering his gun.

Lelouch staggered to the ground, a hand automatically brought up to clutch at the open wound in a feeble attempt to keep the blood from flowing. He didn't cry out, but his lips suffered for his stubborn pride as he bit into them. And to think he had ordered Euphemia to the very same thing. It took almost a minute for Lelouch to regain his composure, and with sharp breaths he gradually controlled, he stood up once more; the dignified leader of the Rebellion.

And then, wordlessly, he fired the gun at the Major; it didn't miss.

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Log;ongoing

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