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[Geass][short]0^2:To sit upon the frozen throne
Rainmaker
#11

Brought to you by the Suzaku Theme Song - 'Breaking the habit' by Linkin Park, and Iron Maiden's 'Rainmaker' for the chapter theme.
---
Madame, Monsieur, bonsoir ...
A storm.
Rainfall, in its fullness, coming down onto the world to wash away its sins.
Upon barren ground, the drops would fall.
My friend, tread carefully as you step in-between them.
Look carefully, as you measure and weigh them.
Will it gift the land with life again? This barren wasteland of human hearts?
Or will it come down without mercy, to flood away that which still lingers, sweeping all with it regardless of nature, offering only a wake of desolation, and a garden fashioned from the bodies of the broken?
And is he who orchestrates it God?
Or Devil?
Or perhaps both?
Show us, my friend. Show them your most magnificent disaster.
Visit upon them your remorseless symphony.

---
0^2:To sit upon the frozen throne
a Code Geass/Gankutsuou fic
by Griever
---
three: Rainmaker
"Ah, you're here," he nodded, as if to himself. "Please, sit. We were afraid we would start without you, for a minute there, Suzaku."
The image was almost ridiculous, when contrasted with his own state of mind there and then, which was one of organized chaos.
"My, my ... I know it's only been a year, but come on, boss," the teenager who'd entered immediately behind him shook his head with a grin. "I haven't been late yet, have I?"
"Of course. My apologies, Rivalz," Lelouch replied, gesturing to one of the numerous, empty high-backed chairs at the long dining table. "Please, both of you, sit. Or should I say, please, the three of you, sit?"
The dining room they'd been directed to was long, with windows running floor-to-ceiling along one whole wall, the view a panorama of the nighttime skyline.
Candelabra stood, candles in them flickering, upon the table shrouded in pure white and set with china, platters of various dishes along its length.
There was no other light.
The door closed, as the green-haired girl - C.C., or so she'd told him to call her - entered as well.
"Hey, come on you two," Rivalz commented, taking his seat and immediately claiming some of the food for his own plate. "It's good! Really, really good!"
Lelouch gestured to the empty seats again, seemingly unperturbed by their reluctance, from where he himself sat - as Suzaku had half-expected, at the head of the table. Beside him, on his right, clad in a kimono similar in cut to the one he'd seen her wearing before, sat Haydee, and in the next seat on that side a blond girl he'd not met before. Then Rivalz.
"Lelouch, there's something I need to talk to you about," Suzaku began with some urgency entering his voice.
"First, sit," the purple-eyed teenager insisted again. "It is but the polite thing to do, yes? Ah, but I fear I have been remiss as well ..."
Suzaku, who'd stepped forward, halted then. C.C. had yet to move.
"Rivalz you know, of course, but have not been properly introduced to. My ... steward, I suppose, Rivalz Cardemonde. My old friend, Kururugi Suzaku, and ... companion. And the lovely lady next to him is one thanks to whom we may enjoy such bountiful repast. Miss Milly Ashford."
For a moment, Lelouch paused, then pushing his chair back and standing, to move behind the person remaining and laying a hand on her shoulder.
"And this is Haydee, whom you've also met before and I have been remiss in introducing. My beautiful lady."
The girl raised a hand, laying it atop Lelouch's own.
"Lelouch-sama, you are too kind."
Purple eyes met green, and the Japanese teen straightened before continuing, stepping up to the table and bowing.
"I have been remiss. I apologize. My name is Kururugi Suzaku, and I am pleased to make your acquaintance," he spared a glance to one side. "And my companion, C.C."
"Well, well," the blond, Milly, said teasingly. "Lulu told me he'd invited company, but he didn't say you'd be so cute, mister Kururugi Su-za-ku."
"Yes, somehow," Lelouch stepped back to stand beside his own empty seat. "The detail simply escaped me, for some reason," he remarked dryly.
"Ah, but we all know how absent-minded you are, don't we, so I suppose it's to be expected," the girl stated, not even bothering to pretend she was being serious.
"So it is," was the reply, before purple eyes went back to Suzaku. "Then, for a third time, I invite you, Kururugi Suzaku. C.C. Please, sit."
Suzaku closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and nodded, opening them and turning to stretch out a hand which the green-haired girl promptly ignored as she walked past, pulled back a chair opposite the blond, and sat. He shook the disregard off, stepping past and taking the seat to Lelouch's immediate left.
Whereupon Lelouch sat back down again himself.
"After all," he spoke after a moment. "As they say, eat. Drink. Make merry. For tomorrow ... well, you know."
Suzaku's fork clattered to the plate, before the young soldier could stop himself from startling.
"You know already, then?"
"Know?"
"The Armed Forces are pulling back what reserves they have available and mobilizing. I'm only here because my commanding officer has me written off as injured."
"Which you are, so everything has turned out for the best, I would imagine. Lelouch Lamperouge, on the other hand, intends to get his fill and more of wine, woman and song."
"He's a bit notorious for it, really," said Milly Ashford. "Not enough for it to be of bad taste, no, but it's expected that he should come down with quite a vicious hangover, come morning."
"So sad," nodded Lelouch, after taking a sip from his glass ... of water. "So, then, I expect we will both be spending tonight and tomorrow nowhere in the vicinity of the Shinjuku-ghetto, yes, Suzaku?"
***
The rumble was one that was felt more than it was heard. It vibrated, up through the soles of their feet, along their spines, and reverberated inside their chests in a counterpoint to their heartbeats.
Normally, it would have been disconcerting.
They were used to it, though. It was a long-standing friend and familiar, and a sign that everything was right with their hermetic little world.
The Sheffield rumbled steadily below, powerful treads moving its massive bulk into position, it's battlewagon chassis steady even against the stress of its own weight and load traversing rough terrain.
Even the four Sutherlands of its escort tended to keep well away, as it tended to mess up their gyroscopes.
In a way, it was an antique. More modern, lighter, faster equivalents existed. Knightmare Frame modifications that, while not allowing for such and such range of engagement, still sported a considerable amount of firepower and infinitely more mobility were being developed.
But those were a priority in other Areas. Ones with more intense 'climates'.
This ... was more about show of force than it was about efficiency and capability.
Still, for all its antiquated idiosyncrasies and fallacies, it was a most intimidating vehicle.
All the more so for the portents it brought, in the form of a trio of massive metalloy constructs that lay at rest, along the steel beast's back.
***
"Ougi, we've got movement!"
The night had not been a calm one for their nerves. Neither had the previous one, for that matter, but then it had been mostly diluted by a sense of euphoria.
But, as they say, the new had worn off and considerations of just what the retaliation for this, admittedly unplanned, occupation would be had started flitting in.
It was not a good night to be commander, nominal as he was. The onetime teacher could attest to that.
"Where?"
The Sutherland's smooth controls, unlike the choppy ones of the Glasgows he'd had what little Frame piloting training he'd had on, were of little comfort at the moment.
"Everywhere! They're pushing forward with their entire line, North, South, East _and_ West sectors!" Tamaki was a hothead, yes, but he wasn't prone to fits of sourceless panic. "Damnit, we've lost connection with the Eastern ..."
"Tamaki? Tamaki!"
***
"Ta..." the band was suddenly filled with static, its chaotic pitch making the man wince and tear the headpiece of the commo unit away in haste.
Tamaki Shinichiro swore, keeping the offending bit of gear at a distance and spending a moment to try and adjust the relay itself, to little effect.
They had two Sutherlands per section, and Ougi had kept two, as well as Kouzuki's Glasgow, in reserve ... but that was nothing when compared to what was coming down on them.
Fortunately, close range commo still worked ... but news there was just as disheartening.
"Damnit, Tanaka! Get your ass out of there! Higa! Put down that suppression fire, now!" He barked out, juggling that and trying out other frequency skipping algorithms on the fly.
An explosive charge they'd pre-planted last night went off, burying an approach avenue to the rubble and building remains they'd laughingly dubbed their redoubt, as well as a squad of Britannian infantry under a I-beams and cracked concrete.
The answering hail of fire had them going for cover, even as their own fortified Sutherlands replied in kind. Still, there was only so much penetration and coverage you could get out of a 57mm autocannon - the Knightmares' rifles were good pieces of weaponry, but by no means were they perfect for the situation ... as demonstrated when one of the tanks that had come in the wake of the initial push started its own shower of shells.
Fortunately it was 'only' airbursting fragmentation rounds, since direct fire was made impossible by the awkward angles and cover chosen by the defenders of this urban environment.
It still took its toll, as one 'lucky' shot showered an RPG team with hot shrapnel that wasn't the least bit hindered by the light ballistic armor they wore. Hell, even _that_ sort of gear was a luxury for the Resistance, and in the field like this it didn't mean squat.
In an eye-blink, there was nothing there but twisted metal and bloody haze, and Tamaki spared a momentary wince to the outcome before his attention snapped back to the commo.
"...amaki! Wha...appening, copy!" That was something, at least. Not much, but he could work with it - an improvement over nothing at all, at any rate.
"We're getting hit hard! Repeat! Getting hit hard! Two Knightmare Fire Teams, one squad of MBTs, infantry, the works! Please reinforce! Repeat! Please reinforce! Or at least send some more fucking ammo!"
Which was another issue, as he heard, even over the din and confusion, one of their Sutherlands' rifles stutter into silence and not pick up the beat again. The Britannians _had_ logistics. The Resistance ... not so much.
"... read you! Kouzuki's gon... reinforce the Eastern breach, but ... looks bad on all accounts, we need ..."
Then the world shook and shuddered, exploding in pulverized concrete and cordite as a Britannian Sutherland came down, almost right on top of the command post ... and Tamaki was looking into the largest gun-barrel he'd seen in his life.
Words failed him.
***
A Sutherland model Knightmare Frame is approximately 4,4 meters tall.
It weighs in at almost seven and a half tons.
It can field a variety of weapons, with built-in functionality including the Slash Harken rocket anchor, as well as a pair of folding forearm-mounted tonfas. In addition, it can and does carry fragmentation and submunition grenades, as well as a handheld main weapon ranging from the standard 57mm autocannon - the equivalent of a Knightmare Frame sized assault rifle - to its 100mm Anti-Materiel cousin.
Specialized versions include anything from models carrying dedicated close combat armament for anti-Frame engagements, to those configured solely as weapons platforms and fielding, say, AAA equipment.
Its armor is rated to withstand, at worst-case, a direct hit from 30mm armor piercing ammunition. The pilot compartment and breastplate are rated as resistant to 20mm rounds fired at up to 6000rpm. In terms of battlefield survivability, it beats any hitherto mass manufactured Knightmare Frame.
Its high mobility makes it ideal for use in urban environments.
Still, war is not fought and won by machines alone.
And when you have two of roughly similar performance, what decides is that seemingly insignificant little thing called the 'human' factor.
In the end, success or failure lie in the hands of the pilot.
And Kouzuki Karen was a truly exceptional Knightmare pilot.
Her Glasgow was light, stripped of as much unnecessary equipment as she could do without. It's drive train had been upgraded to rate at nearly Sutherland-level outputs, with as much as several hundred kilo less weight slowing the Frame down.
She knew it, inside and out, and knew just how far over the edge she could push performance ... using that knowledge relentlessly, as she put the red-hued machine on top of an enemy Frame, seven tons of additional weight nearly doubling its usual combat load for a few moments.
That is, until she used it as a springboard, pushing off it and into the air, twisting her Knightmare until the Sutherland was back in her sights.
On its knees, struggling to get up ...
The first Slash Harken missed, going just above one of its shoulders and digging into the ground. The second did not, and the rocket anchor's head barely slowed as it plowed, like a chisel through sandstone, through the Britannian Frame's shoulder joint before joining its sibling in catching purchase in the ground beyond.
Cables tensed, motors whined, and all the Glasgow's upgraded drive train's power worked at the high powered winches that served as the Slash Harkens' anchor points, changing her momentum rapidly enough that, for a second, it seemed as if her Frame was frozen in mid-air.
The Britannian Sutherland was getting back to its feet when Karen's Glasgow slammed back into it, legs first, crumpling armor like tissue-paper under the weight and momentum.
Landspinners struck sparks as they dug against weakened metalloy, tearing it not unlike spurs would unprotected flesh, as the Glasgow snatched the still spinning severed robotic arm out of the air.
The downed Sutherland's partner, skidding around the corner of a ruined skyscraper just meters away in response to the inevitable distress-call from her prey, was met with a robotic arm used like one would use a bludgeon.
Striking once.
Striking twice.
Striking again and again until there was no motion from the attacked.
The Glasgow's manipulator released the first Sutherland's severed, and now much maligned and twisted, arm, letting it fall to the ground.
"Ougi! I'm done here," Karen said, breathing heavily as her adrenaline rush subsided somewhat. "Don't know if I can keep this up ... or if the Glasgow won't break next time I try to pull something like this, so please tell me there's some good news."
***
Tanaka blinked.
'That's ... not one of ours,' he realized once he was done gaping at the source of the rocket anchor that had sliced through the weapon and arm of the Sutherland that had been about to blow his position to kingdom come.
The rocket-assist of the Sutherland's ejection system flared, launching the cockpit to safety even as the body was perforated and jerked around by the repeated impact of 57mm rounds.
Its attacker - another Sutherland Knightmare Frame, came down on top of the ruined war machine, kicking up a cloud of dust and debris with the arrested impact.
"Retreat."
The word came through his commo, in a familiar voice, and his panicked thoughts calmed.
Almost unnaturally so.
"Draw them in and stretch them out. Let the Knightmares come after you and leave their support struggling, then chip away at them from fixed positions and retreat again ..."
He barely noticed that the interference was almost entirely gone.
***
"... staggering it to inflict as much damage as you can. When you can't retreat anymore, consolidate your forces and break through the opening that will present itself," the voice continued, and Ougi stared at the commo station in mute disbelief.
"We can't do that! They'll just close in and crush us!" He heard the reply, identifying it as Karen.
"The opening _will_ be there," the voice retorted. "Tell me, Glasgow-no-onna, do you want to win?"
"You!"
"My associate is reinforcing you in the North. I will give you your chance, but it is up to you to take it. When you do, use only what Knightmares you have left, and spare the rest of your forces to escort what noncombatants remain in your camp out of the battle zone."
'Well,' Ougi thought, 'it's not like we'll have any other chance at getting out of this alive.'
"Alright, listen up!" The Resistance leader started. "We'll try it that way! Karen, keep them busy while the others fall back, then follow. Tanaka, Hiro, Kazuki, you as well. Do you read?"
***
Warrant Officer Timothy Hawke yawned, sitting back against the carapace of the Sheffield, most of his attention wandering. That bit which wasn't was busy with the fireworks.
Though that was being generous, truth be told.
The sound barely reached, and there was hardly more than dust-clouds to be seen from this distance. That it could be seen at all was solely because of positioning.
In his personal opinion, they should have just started off with this, unnecessary expenditure of munitions be damned.
Unfortunately, no-one had asked him, as this was less an actual military operation than it was a political demonstration.
Well, that was alright with him as well. In the end, one way or the other, it didn't matter much. He'd do his job. It was what he was getting paid for, after all, and this far out he was safe as a child in its mothers arms.
His musings were interrupted by the sounds of an approaching Knightmare, though it didn't warrant much attention as apparently their escort, now down to a mere two Frames, let it approach.
The cockpit hatch opened, and the pilot dismounted, trotting over towards the Sheffield.
"Dispatch from command," the man said, simply. A data-key was handed off to Hawke's own commanding officer, and Timothy stretched before getting back to his feet.
It looked like it was time to earn his keep.
The departing Sutherland didn't rate much of a second glance, as the Warrant Officer was by then busy making sure the munitions and loaders were clear and ready to use.
***
Suzaku sweated.
He panted.
Fighting itself, he could handle. Fighting _and_ keeping up the effects of the Geass, that was another thing altogether.
Somehow, he was managing. It was the only thing keeping this particular staggered retreat from collapsing into a panicking rout.
And by no means was it a bloodless retreat, on either side.
His own Sutherland bore testimony to the fierceness of the fighting. A Slash Harken was missing from its mounting, the left torso armor was almost completely gone, the arm on that side was missing a hand, and there were problems with fine control of the Landspinners that significantly reduced his mobility ...
... and, all things considered, that was still getting off lightly.
A burst to make sure the enemy stays under cover, then another, just to buy enough time for the Resistance fighters to set up in another impromptu trench and free him to his own retreat ... again and again and again.
Shrapnel and rubble bouncing from armor and biting into flesh.
War was madness.
A madness he'd hoped to have left behind him, years ago, but one that kept haunting him.
And now he was one of those paying it tribute.
A spread of rounds tore through the wall he was taking cover behind, sparking from his armor through luck and inopportune angle of impact, and he had his Sutherland jerk back before a follow-up could correct that, raising his own weapon and laying down blind saturation fire until the weapon ran dry and ...
... there was silence.
It failed to penetrate, as his hands worked the controls on their own and had the Knightmare replace the empty with his last full magazine.
The tactical plot said this was they couldn't retreat further, for the simple reason that there was nowhere to retreat to ...
... six Sutherlands, including his own, and one battered Glasgow.
Surrounded.
***
In the distance, it began.
He could feel it in the air.
And it made him smile.
"Rei," he keyed the commo, riding a secure transmission piggyback on Britannian traffic.
Code was a reasonable precaution - no matter how secure, you never knew if someone you didn't want to wasn't listening.
"They stopped," came the reply. "I don't like this, Le ... Zero. It's like they're waiting for something, and it's not going to be anything good. The Resistance is getting uneasy."
"I need you to calm them."
"But ..."
"Calm. Them. And tell them to get ready. I'll meet up with you on the way out. Breaking communications."
"Zero? Zero!"
He closed the channel, and slotted a disk into the Sutherland's computer. The contents self-activated, wiping any traces of his presence from the machine, before he retrieved the disk and dismounted the Knightmare.
"Come, brother. Stay true to form."
***
"Your Highness, we have them."
An expression of triumphant glee crossed the balding general's face as he said this.
"Good, General. Very good. Contact the artillery unit, and have them stand ready."
The blue icons of Britannian forces surrounded an angry red hive that represented the Insurgents' position entirely. A textbook encirclement, and one into which they'd herded every bit of opposition in the area.
Perfect.
"We have confirmation, Your Highness. The instructions have been delivered. Would you care to give the authorization?"
Clovis La Britannia nodded, squaring his shoulders as the communications panel of his command chair lit up. This was a show of force, after all. No weakness was tolerated.
"Your orders, Highness?" The artillery commander saluted.
"Execute your instructions, commander. For the Glory of the Holy Britannian Empire, we will not let this affront against Our dignity stand!"
"Yes, Your Highness!"
***
It was manmade thunder.
Splitting the air, deafening, and utterly lethal.
Three barrels spoke, in staggered synchrony, as the Sheffield was nearly rocked back on its anchoring by the recoil.
The rounds were 400mm, the effective range up to sixteen kilometers with a traditional projectile. Up to thirty with rocket assist.
Two more salvos followed ...
***
"Incoming!"
A voice pierced the deathly calm, raising heads all around as thunder rolled, followed by a high pitched whistle ...
"We played ... right into their hands," Ougi sat back in the cockpit of his Sutherland, blankly staring at the glaring WARNING icons popping up on his tactical plot.
Oddly, his hands stayed steady.
There was no panic.
Just calm.
"You sold us out," he spoke, addressing the man who'd dubbed himself Rei to them.
"Get ready." Was the only reply he got in return.
Then the explosions came, shaking the earth, making rubble rain down from skeletal remains of buildings, and kicking up great clouds of dust ...
... and Ougi, as well as most of the Resistance, felt their jaws drop.
***
Airbursting HEAT and fragmentation loads. Submunitions. SABOT darts.
Like a steel and fire rain, they fell, their 400mm carrier shells dropping off mid-arc, letting the lethal cargo loose.
Piercing Knightmare armor. Smashing apart Main Battle Tanks. Tearing infantry apart.
The Britannian troops had just discovered one of the oldest rules of engagement.
The only thing worse than enemy artillery is allied artillery.
Friendly fire isn't.
Bedlam.
Yes, that was an accurate description of the happenings.
***
"Y ... Your Highness! We've lost contact with Southern and Western Detachments!"
"What?!"
"It's the artillery, Your Highness! Either an error in the fire plan or ..."
"Your Highness! Report from the Sheffield! They claim to be locked out of the firing computer and that it's realigning to fire!"
"Where?" A frazzled Clovis asked, eyes wide at the sudden decimation of his forces.
"Here, Your Highness!"
***
"Stop it! Somehow! Any way you can, damn your soul!"
The inside of the Sheffield was alive with frenzied bodies and panicking minds.
"There's a Level 3 barrier on this, commander! That's Royal-level authorization! We'd need biometrics and direct input from someone in the Royal Family to cancel!"
"Then blow the whole thing! Do you _want_ history to remember you as the people who were responsible for the death of a Prince of Britannia?!"
The clunking of autoloaders could be heard in the control compartment.
"Whatever you're going to do, do it quickly!"
"Shit, it's loaded! One incendiary. One anti-armor submunitions. One ... oh, holy mother of God, it's an FAE!"
"Too late!"
The Sheffield was rocked back again, then ... nothing.
"Crap," Warrant Officer Hawke blanched, and scrambled back, before the commander grabbed him by his lapels.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?"
"You don't understand, the FAE didn't launch!"
A breath of relief passed the commander's lips. If it was just the submunitions and the incendiary, then the Mobile Command Center could handle them. The FAE on the other hand, would have swept it clear from ...
"It didn't launch because it was _arming_ in there!"
"... crap," the commander managed, right before the world exploded.
The Sheffield Mobile Artillery Vehicle and its escorts proceeded to cease to exist in a rather spectacular manner.
***
Clovis La Britannia stared, uncomprehendingly, at the killing field that the surroundings of his Command Vehicle had become.
And even that had not escaped unscathed, as anti-armor munitions and incendiaries shattered and burned ...
...
"Your Highness! Your Highness, are you alright?!"
A shake.
A shudder.
The governor of Area 11 didn't feel his knees strike the floor as he fell to them, and laughed.
In desperation.
***
END rainmaker
***
Kinda iffy on this one. I'm thinking, not enough Evil Bastard. Will have to recitify that next time.
-Griever
When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force.
When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm
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Messages In This Thread
Re: [Geass][short]0^2:To sit upon the frozen throne - by HoagieOfDoom - 06-06-2007, 12:15 AM
Re: [Geass][short]0^2:To sit upon the frozen throne - by HoagieOfDoom - 06-06-2007, 05:03 AM
Suzaku of the Rebellion - by Rieverre - 06-07-2007, 08:55 PM
Re: Suzaku of the Rebellion - by HoagieOfDoom - 06-07-2007, 09:38 PM
Re: Suzaku of the Rebellion - by Rieverre - 06-07-2007, 10:24 PM
Re: Suzaku of the Rebellion - by HoagieOfDoom - 06-07-2007, 10:29 PM
Road to Damascus - by Rieverre - 06-11-2007, 09:05 PM
Re: Road to Damascus - by HoagieOfDoom - 06-12-2007, 05:48 AM
Rainmaker - by Rieverre - 06-19-2007, 03:09 PM
Re: Rainmaker - by HoagieOfDoom - 06-19-2007, 05:55 PM

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