Duality Complex - A Transformers/Code Geass crossover

I embarked on a mission to write the first crossover
between Code Geass and Transformers.


Just sit back, grab a beverage, and enjoy. And keep
the flames to yourselves, please. Constructive criticism
welcome.

Duality Complex
A Transformers/Code Geass crossover
Story written by Tr3adst0ne

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Code Geass or Transformers. They are (respectively) the property of Sunrise/CLAMP and IDW/Takara/Hasbro.

Rated: T for violence and language. (additional content possibly to follow)
A brief introduction into the timeline before the events of Duality Complex began.



Prologue

They first arrived on Earth in 1986, hiding among us in plain sight. Giant sentient machines capable of changing shape and size at a whim. The battles that they fought were waged in secret, every continent a playing field. Ever since the war between the Decepticons and the Autobots began, they have traveled far from the planet Cybertron and battled in an endless struggle for survival.

When they discovered a new variant of energon on Earth, the scope of their conflict changed drastically. Their war on this planet lasted for more than a decade, and claimed more lives than we could begin to fathom.

Of course, I was just a technical writer at the time before they fought more openly. I, along with many others were oblivious to their existence until they started showing up all over the world. They fought regardless of the consequences or the damage that would ensue. To everyone they were were the same: aliens fighting for a world which they intended to turn into a mining colony. Until we realized (albeit slowly) that the Autobots were trying to protect us. Our common sense finally overrode our fears, and we formed a non-aggression pact with them.

The eventual victory against the forces led by Megatron proved fleeting and costly. Many of us and our alien allies fell in the face of the onslaught which the Decepticons unleashed. Cities and populations were decimated across the planet, and left much of the Earth in ruins. Since then several of the Autobots took refuge amongst our population in secret, and co-existed with our race on good terms despite the massive anti-alien sentiment mounted against them.

Now both factions are scattered across the galaxy, peace has finally settled. Ever since the war ended one would beg the question: did we truly save the Earth and the our people from the threat of annihilation? Or is there a greater test ahead of us that will determine the shape of things to come?

- Lt. Commander Spike Witwicky, US Navy in 2006

Duality Complex

2010 CE – More than four years have passed since the Autobots last fought the Decepticons led by Megatron, the Earth left in ruins in the wake of the conflict between the two ancient factions. Since that time, the humans focused their energies on the reconstruction efforts of their world with the help of Optimus Prime and his troops. The peace didn't last however, as their enemies founded an opportunity to steal an object of vital importance under their care.

An expedition of Autobots and their American allies are dispatched to pursue them. Little did they know that the spark of war that began four million years ago would be re-ignited in an alternate Earth, on an outlying colony called Area 11, formerly known as “Japan”. It is there that their fates will be intertwined not only against the Decepticons, but also against another ruthless nation called the Holy Empire of Britannia.



OPTIMUS PRIME – Commander, leader of all Autobot forces

PROWL – Deputy Commander, chief military strategist and leader of the Autobot/human joint expedition

JAZZ – Lieutenant, head of the Autobot Special Operations division and expedition co-leader

SPIKE WITWICKY – U.S. Navy Lieutenant Commander, chief liaison of the National Security Agency sub-branch Third Echelon and expedition co-leader

NIGHTBEAT – Detective, a police specialist sent to help in the search for the stolen Golden Disk

SIDESWIPE – Operative, a soldier who excels in hand-to-hand combat like his twin Sunstreaker

MEGATRON – Warlord, leader of the Decepticons

THOMAS ARKEVILLE – Rogue CIA Officer, former chief of the CIA cybernetics bureau

STARSCREAM – Aerospace Commander, second-in-command of the Decepticon forces

LELOUCH LAMPEROUGE – Britannian ex-prince, leads the Black Knights as the masked vigilante Zero

KALLEN STADTFELD – A Britannian/Japanese half-breed, pilot of the Guren Mk. II and captain of Zero’s personal guard

CORNELIA LI BRITANNIA – Britannian princess, viceroy of Area 11

SUZAKU KURURUGI – Warrant Officer, test pilot of the experimental Knightmare Frame Lancelot

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Code Geass or Transformers. They are (respectively) the property of Sunrise/CLAMP and IDW/Takara/Hasbro.

Genre: AU/Crossover

Rated: T for violence and language.

The Autobots and humans form a joint expedition to retrieve an artifact of great power. One that could threaten the existence of life as they knew it.

Story Note: I decided to make this fic AU, since the boys from G1 coincides with some of Code Geass' canon. Whether I intend to push it in that direction with the latter's chronological events depends on how I develop it. It gives me a little more literary freedom. Aside from that, this chapter takes place during episodes 1-3 of Code Geass R1.



Chapter 1: Opening Movements



Outer City Limits
Shinjuku Ghetto, Area 11

Jazz and Prowl were the first two mechs that stepped through the transwarp portal. Both officers braced themselves as they made their landing outside of the swirling nether. Prowl's optics turned into narrow slits as he peered at the horizon beyond the landing site. Piles of debris and burnt rubble were scattered across the landscape.

"Is this the place?"

"Yep. Quantum energy signature matches what's on my scanner," Jazz tapped on the side of his head visor for emphasis with a smile.
B
ehind them the portal began to show signs of dissipation.

"We better move. Let's deploy the relay posts," Prowl suggested.

Jazz nodded and pulled a small metallic canister that was seated within his back storage compartment. He clicked a button on the round object, where it extended into a silver rod approximately five meters tall. The two Autobots quickly went to work to set up the other posts that would stabilize the exit/entry point into this universe. Transwarp portals had a tendency to be an unstable means of travel. This was the first instance in which the Autobots and humans have managed to successfully cross into another reality in a safe and controlled fashion.

Soon after, Spike Witwicky exited the portal with due haste. His body felt strange, his mind slightly dazed after having traveled through an alien anomaly for the first time. Though he admitted quietly to himself that it was a unique experience in and of itself. He clicked on the side of his helmet, where an audible hiss was heard. He took it off and exhaled as he spent a moment to enjoy the fresh air. The Navy SEAL brushed through his brown mane as he looked on in curiosity.

Other members of the expedition materialized soon after his arrival. Chip, Marissa, and a group of personnel consisting of researchers, technicians, and government agents. All of them wore the same type of protective suit when Spike first entered the rift. Soon after, they quickly slipped out of their gear and took in fresh air. Chip nearly collapsed on the deck as he braced himself with his arms and hurled on the concrete.

"Ugh, that was... not cool..."

"Take it easy, Chip. I told you that you shouldn't have had those tacos last night," Marissa smiled warmly.

"Working overtime does that to me. I had to make do," Chip answered weakly. The intelligence analyst's less than impressive physical condition referred to the fact that he hadn't had anything to eat before yesterday. He worked on numerous reports that he had to give to his NSA superiors before he departed on his mission.

Marissa tried to suppress her laughter, but her resistance broke down as she gave a light chuckle and shook her head.

"Come on, tiger. We got work to do."

Marissa offered a hand to her fellow co-worker as she propped him up back to his feet. Ironhide came along from the rear alongside four other Autobots. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were the last to exit out of the portal before they shut it down. The twins remained steadfast, alert for any signs of unusual activity. Ironhide broke off from the group and transformed into his vehicle mode.

"Prowl, I'm going to do some checkin' on the local environment and take a look around for a few cycles," Ironhide called in.

"Stay sharp. We don't know what we're dealing with here," Prowl advised.

"Will do," the chief security officer replied.

"Well, obviously this place is Earth. The question is: where and when?" Jazz said. The special ops agent tilted his head left and right and recognized that much of the gray ruined cityscape was man-made in construction. Remnants of wrecked civilian and highly advanced military vehicles with strange configurations were scattered across the terrain.

"We'll find out soon enough. For now, let's focus on moving the equipment and find a place where we can set temporarily ourselves up," Prowl said.

Jazz nodded in agreement. "Ditto. Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, move ahead west of our current position a couple of clicks and conduct some recon. Check for any abandoned structure that's within proximity of the landing site so we can set ourselves up."

"You got it," Sunstreaker replied. Jazz confided in the twins' ability to do what was required of them. In spite of their different backgrounds, the three Autobots had served on many missions together. It was easy for the trio to get along since Jazz was not only likable, he shared similar origins with the two brothers, having come from the slums of Cybertron like they did. They had all come far since they first met, since he knew the pair to be quite a handful of trouble. But then again, Jazz was as guilty as the twins when it came to pulling pranks from time to time. When it got down to dealing with the Decepticons, all three would fight alongside their fellow comrades and give it their all.

Meanwhile, as the two siblings sped away, the human and Autobot leaders occupied themselves in accounting their personnel and equipment. Trailbreaker altered himself into robot mode and sauntered towards Prowl and Jazz. He pointed his thumb behind him as he gestured towards the steel crates containing their weapons and support equipment. Human personnel swarmed around the containers as they sifted through their checklists before they inspected the contents of their precious cargo.

"All crates are accounted for, Prowl," the taller Cybertronian said.

"Good. As soon as we're done checking up on our equipment we're moving out. How are the cloak generators?"

They're intact, for the moment. It looks like the trip through the rift didn't give them the work over like it did for some of the humans."

"Hmm," Prowl replied with a nod from his head.

"We'll need to seek out means on which to continue to power ourselves with energon."

"Once Ironhide and the twins finish their recon we''ll see what we can find. For now we'll improvise with what we've got," Prowl finished before he turned to Jazz.

"You know, this looks funny. What happened to the local population? More importantly, what happened to the city?" the spec ops lieutenant interjected.

"I don't know, though from the looks of it I figure there was some kind of shooting war," Prowl surmised.
The conference between the three was cut short by Ironhide, who contacted Jazz and Prowl via voice comm. His tone was grim the moment he first spoke: [Jazz, Prowl, you might want to come over to my location and take a look at this.]

“What's shaking, Ironhide?” Jazz asked as he paused from looking at his data pad.

[Just come. Bring Spike and Marissa with you.]

The worried tone in the older Autobot's voice registered in the minds of the two senior Autobot officers as something serious. Ironhide being the Autobot chief security officer, his unease was notably justified. Whatever he uncovered clearly wasn't good. Thus it warranted his concern for the rest of the expedition’s safety.

"We're on our way," Prowl said as he immediately changed into his alt-mode. Jazz followed suit as both vehicles drove near the small collective of humans that were occupied with the containers. Marissa and Spike glanced at their Cybertronian companions with quizzical looks.

"What’s wrong, guys?" Marissa asked.

"Ironhide founded something. From the sound of it, I figure it's something that ain't pretty," Jazz said
through his vocalizer before he opened his right side door.

"Jump in, we'll head over to Ironhide's spot and see what he's found."


---


A few blocks further into the city's outer limits, within an abandoned community center, the entourage of Autobots and humans were greeted by piles of dead bodies at their feet. All of the corpses were bloodied, each riddled with bullet holes. Inside the structure's floor shell casings were scattered all around. Spike and Marissa's eyes were at their fullest when their minds tried to take in the carnage that ensued. The former's gaze narrowed as he walked towards one of the bodies and knelt close to it. The body had a white short-sleeved shirt with khaki pants, his physical features registered Japanese origins.

"Who could've done this?" Marissa said, her mind appalled at the number of people that were slain. Such senseless murder of unarmed civilians drew up a well of anger in the NSA agent. She sought answers but where there were none to be found. Her hands curled into fists upon the sight of the dead children and the elderly.

Sideswipe strode in behind Prowl, Ironhide and Jazz. He shared in the general plight that hung in the sparks (and hearts) of everyone on site. No being deserved to be put to death the way that the civilians inside the building did. It was clear evidence that they were executed for some unknown reason. Spike stood back at full height and did a cross with his right hand, his visage one of sympathy.

"There's nothing left here. All we can do is pay our respects."
Sounds of aircraft loomed over the horizon.
Tension rose in the air when a voice broke through into Prowl's comm system.

"Prowl, this is Trailbreaker. Unidentified contacts are approaching your location. Sunstreaker's en route to my position to help relocate personnel and equipment with me and Ratchet. By Primus, they're all over the board."

"Have you identified them?"

"From the looks of it, they're humanoid machines. They're not Cybertronian, and they're definitely not friendly."

"Initiate defensive protocols. Disable them by any means necessary. I'll contact you again as soon as I can."

"Will do."

A hail of shells whizzed by in the general direction of the team. Spike and Marissa quickly dove towards the deck, their arms raised above their heads as weapons fire threatened to turn the building they occupied into wreckage. Both had their pistols drawn as the attack pushed on. In seconds the Autobots drew their weapons through reflex as they turned to face their enemies.

"What in the hell is that?!" Spike bellowed.

"Looks like we've got company!" Sideswipe added, his photon blaster blazing away at the unknown enemy.

"Ironhide, take Spike and Marissa and regroup with Trailbreaker and the others! We'll handle this!" Prowl ordered, his voice so loud that it broke through the fusillade of projectiles that seared through the air.

"They can fight too!"

"That was not a suggestion! If we fall, the group will need somebody to lead them in our stead. Take them and go now!"

Swarmed by armed mecha, the Autobots shifted into their vehicle forms and rode off. While Ironhide whisked away Spike and Marissa to meet up with the rest of the expedition team, Prowl conducted a scan on the terrain based on the intelligence gathered so far. His navigational instruments interfaced with Jazz and Sideswipe's sensor displays as their data maps were lit with multiple hostiles. All of them saw the same data as it changed in real time, the enemy closing in on their position like a snake tightening its grip around its prey.

[Jazz, Sideswipe, spread out. We'll disperse their fire and regroup in the east.]

[It's not looking good Prowl. They're all over us. We'll have to weave through them.]
What are these things? the strategist thought to himself. He would have to find out later as his mind raced to come up with measures to solve their current predicament.

Jazz's attention was occupied as he took on three of the enemy mechs. His gaze shifted as he spent a few seconds to analyze their bluish exoskeletal frames. They were about his height, and humanoid in appearance save for the bulbous mounts that were placed above their foreheads. A guess that it housed some form of optical sensor which fed information into it. What caught his interest were the mounted wheel struts that protruded from their shins. He founded them akin to roller blades, so it was safe to bet that they were highly mobile.

The special ops lieutenant brought his shoulder-mounted flamethrower to bear and immolated his attackers. A wall of flame engulfed them as the white Porsche spun and made a hasty getaway. All three of the mechs were repulsed only for a moment before they shrugged off the attack and sped in high pursuit. They were caught by a barrage of missiles that Prowl launched about 150 meters away. Upon impact, the trio of machines disconnected from the torso upwards and ejected what appeared to be escape capsules for the pilots. Jazz transformed back into robot form and whistled at the debris, giving a thumbs up towards the deputy commander.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."


---


In another block of the city Sideswipe jumped upward and slammed a knee into a blue enemy mech's head. Its sensor mount scattered into dozens of pieces. His mind ran through reflex as he anticipated the movement of another enemy as it blazed its rifle in his direction. The red twin dived towards the street and shot a retaliatory blast, striking the torso before the machine went critical and exploded.

[Sideswipe, status?]

[I'm presently engaged with a hostile. More of them on the way.]

[When you take it down, fall back and head further down the street. I have an idea.]

Sideswipe scoffed at the order but nonetheless complied. He swung a hard right hook into the unknown assailant, smashing its head sensor inward. It tried to shove its weapon into his torso to let off a few more shots. The red Autobot simply exerted his strength before he broke its arm off and swung it like a club with all his might. He utilized enough force to send the machine flying skywards as it crashed into the pavement.

[What do you want me to do?]

[There's an abandoned building about thirty meters ahead of you. Use your pile drivers to collapse its support beams. That will knock down the structure and force them to disperse. We'll be able to take them from there.]

[Got it.]

An enemy mech snuck from behind him with a knife before he locked its arm and plucked the weapon from its hand. In a swift reversal move, Sideswipe plunged the knife into the midsection of the machine that dared to strike him. Electricity arced from its metallic frame, threatening to explode at any moment. It ejected an escape module before it went critical and blew into pieces.

Afterwards Sideswipe launched into the air with his jet pack. He landed atop the abandoned structure and quickly began his task. He could only pray that Prowl's plan to segregate the enemy forces worked. His hands were replaced by his most feared weapons. Sideswipe's pile drivers were capable of turning everything that he used them on into scrap heap. No effort was spared as he executed his attack on the structure. His audio receptors caught the clunk of anchors that harpooned into the side of the building. The red Lambo twin peered to the side and spotted two enemy mecha racing quickly in his direction. Five others were en route from down below to stunt his efforts.

They arrived too late, as the abandoned structure began to buckle in on itself. Sideswipe jumped and landed into an empty street as the building felled into the adjacent city intersection. The hostile mecha withdrew and attempted to escape before he took them down one by one. As the fighting continued, a voice boomed that penetrated the air. Whoever the person was that spoke through the PA system was young, but possessed an air of authority in his tone.

"Attention: all forces!"

The red twin turned towards the direction where the interruption originated. "What in the Inferno...?"

"Cease fire at once! I, Clovis, Third Prince of Britannia and royal viceroy of Area 11, hereby command you. All forces are ordered to cease fire at once! You will also cease destruction of any buildings or property. All casualties, whether Britannian or Eleven, shall be treated equally and without prejudice! In the name of Clovis la Britannia, you are hereby ordered: cease fire at once! I shall allow no further fighting!"

"Hmph. I suppose that doesn't include us in the equation," Sideswipe said. The red Lambo twin reverted into his vehicle form. He shifted gears and rode off at best speed, hoping that the others managed to survive the ordeal.


---


The congregation of Autobot and American operatives stood together as they regrouped. Thankfully no one in their group died, but many expressed looks of confusion and concern. Whoever controlled this area ruled it with an iron fist. It was only coincidence that spared them from death. Sunstreaker brushed his hands as he attempted to shake the wires and scraps of debris that coated his fists.

Served them right for trying to take on the likes of me, he thought coldly of the lifeless machines.
Ironhide walked towards the expedition team where he holstered his weapon and crossed his arms.

"They withdrew," the security chief pointed out.

"It wasn't because we managed to ward them off. They had us outnumbered in droves," Trailbreaker added.

"Someone ordered them to retreat," a voice interrupted. It was the familiar black and white figure of Prowl.

"There was another battle nearby, towards the city's inner recesses. Whoever this Prince Clovis is, it's a good bet that he's in charge of this 'Area 11'. I'm sure all of you know that these machines were piloted by humans. If there are any survivors, find them. We also need to find out whatever information that we can and see if we can find this Clovis as well."

"And if we don't?" Ironhide asked.

"Then we'll pull out and relocate elsewhere," Prowl answered.

"I think we have a breakthrough folks," Jazz buzzed, his voice only partially clear due to the static that interfered with the line. "Come on up, Spike founded someone that may be able to talk."


---


Jazz and Spike stood in close proximity to a badly injured pilot of one of the enemy mecha. The blue suited operator attempted to crawl onto the terrain and grab an assault rifle before Spike kicked it away. The SEAL officer kneeled in front of the pilot, his composure cool and calm. It was time to get some answers, and Spike was not in the mood to be shot at again.

Blood trailed on the pilot's temples and mouth as he struggled to steady himself. All of the Autobots that arrived with the expedition were on site as well.

"Who are you?" Spike began.

"I know what you are," the pilot coughed as he pointed at the general direction where the Autobots stood. What Spike saw was a look of recognition. It was obvious that this man knew about the Transformers. Did it mean that humans in this reality also had knowledge of their existence?

"Don't make me repeat myself. Who are you?"

"Whatever you're here for, you're too late. Soon the Decepticons will rise up and take this world. When they're done, they will spill over to other worlds, other realities, and crush anyone who gets in their way.”
Spike grabbed the operator and gritted his teeth. The pilot's defiance began to get on his nerves. His grip tightened as he tried his best effort to restrain his anger. Spike noticed that the pilot grabbed his bullet-proof vest and whispered quietly: "All Hail Britannia... All Hail Megat..."

In the man's final moments, he limped lifelessly in the SEAL's arms. Spike laid down the dead operator onto the deck and turned back to his Autobot friends. He frowned at the near mention of the Decepticon warlord. Proof enough that they held a presence in this reality.

"This is not good. If this guy knows that you exist..."

"Then it's possible that the Decepticons used the Golden Disk to alter this timeline. There's no telling how deeply entrenched they are," Prowl said.

“The question is: how much damage have they done to this reality?"

"More to the point: where do we find them?"
The more that the group dug deeper into their plight, the more questions that were raised. This mission wasn't going to end overnight. All of the senior members of the party knew there was going to be a lot of work ahead of them.

End of Chapter 1

I really like the way you've been writing this so far. It's an interesting concept and you seem to be capturing a good amount of the "feel" that Code Gease has.

I had an idea while reading it for Nightbeat. At this point in the story it doesnt appear as though he will be getting a pretender shell, but he was originally a headmaster. One idea to follow the IDW idea of tweaking original concepts would be to have him have his head modified into a detachable robot unit that he controls autonomously instead of being bonded. That way you can give him the ability to muck around in human affairs without bonding him to someone. For even more flavor you could say he's slightly not perfect in his mini bot mode so he has to wear an old school overcoat like a noir detective.

Looking forward to your next post.

I have a prologue and chapters 3+4 posted on ff.net. Just fish out the crossover section and you'll see it. Hopefully I'll post the fifth one this week.

TBH I was starting to get worried since AU's can be a hit or miss, and the past several weeks have been nothing but dead silence. Hence why I haven't posted anything further here as of late.

On the subject of Nightbeat, I am keeping him as a regular Autobot car. Though the possibility of Headmasters appearing still remain. Whether I'll throw it in only time will tell. I do recall that all Autobots have the ability to use holoavatars: which can pass through walls and hold tangible human-sized objects if I remember correctly. I putted him in because his penchant for solving mysteries puts him in over his head more times than he can count. Him coupled with Prowl's strategic prowess would make them awesome adversaries against Zero's intellect.

And I intend to give a little more substance to Spike and Drift. I wasn't very satisfied with how Shane handled their characterization. Not very... oh how should I put it? Shway.

There's a mixture of elements from the IDW/DW/Marvel/toon universes. I have to figure out how it will work to my liking and make it an interesting read for everyone else.

Appreciate the gesture of good faith, though.

Tr3adst0ne

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Code Geass or Transformers. They are (respectively) the property of Sunrise/CLAMP and IDW/Takara/Hasbro.
Rated: T for violence, language and light drug use.

Wheeljack brings some new toys for use in the expedition's infiltration endeavors.

Story Note: This chapter takes place during episode 4 of Code Geass R1.



Chapter 2: Second Skin



Autobot Outpost
Shinjuku Ghetto, Area 11

After the Autobots' first encounter with Britannian forces in the outer limits days ago, they immediately established a temporary base within the confines of a massive abandoned garage. Since the original landing site was deemed too exposed, Prowl and Jazz decided that they would have to set up the exit point in the back of the garage so that the passage of additional personnel and equipment would go unhindered. Thankfully the structure was spacious enough to fit all occupants of the team, since it was linked to an adjacent car factory which gave them more freedom in their setup.

Meanwhile, Ratchet occupied himself in another space of the outpost as he studied the dead carcass of the Britannian mecha pilot with machine-like precision. Medical scalpels that protruded from his arms poked and prodded into every crevice of the corpse. The chief medical officer held an eerie suspicion that there was something familiar about the man. He just quite couldn't put his finger on it. His medical scanner analyzed every pore and cell, searching for any patterns that separated the unusual from the norm. Ratchet's optics eyed the instrument carefully until he spotted something peculiar in the operator's DNA sequence.

"Hmm. Um-hmm. Just as I thought."

The CMO dared not to waste another second and tapped into his voice comm via his cerebral processor.

[Prowl, I took a look at our dead friend here and he is what you suspected him to be.]

[Do you have the results?]

[I have already forwarded the relevant items to your data pad.]

A temporary pause took hold as Prowl gave his reply.

[Primus. If there's one, there's bound to be more.]

[With the Decepticon infiltration protocol that is likely.]

[I'll contact Optimus and give him the information. Thanks, Ratchet.]


---


Elsewhere Prowl sat in front of a large holographic terminal. The Autobot deputy commander began the conversation with a ghostly blue projection of Optimus Prime's face on top of the circular grid display. He couldn't help but feel disturbed by this startling development concerning the dead facsimile. Both senior officers were prompt on the topic of the group's arrival to this alternate Earth.

"We arrived safely, for the most part. But not without incident."

"What do you mean?"

"We encountered... difficulties upon our arrival. After we discovered the bodies of the Japanese civilians in one of the abandoned structures, we were engaged with a group of armed machines that I have never seen before. Our metallurgical scans indicate that they're human in design and manufacture. And then there's the case of the dead pilot," Prowl said, a hand scratching the bridge of his nose before he continued. "Ratchet did a post mortum on him not too long ago. There's no question that he's a facsimile."
Prime said nothing, though his visage looked grim with concern.

"Where did you find him?"

"He was assigned with the Britannian garrison that was exterminating the population before the troops were recalled. It was clear from his expression that he knew what we are."

"Then it's possible we might be even more exposed than initially believed."

"That is the logical conclusion that I have come to."

Facsimiles were artificial agents grown out of fusion tubes by the Decepticon army. These clones resembled beings that their cells were culled from in appearance and genetic structure. Their basic constitution as mimicries of the original subjects made them excellent tools for infiltration within alien governments. The very idea of facsimiles inside critical sectors of Britannia's infrastructure gave the Decepticons a huge strategic advantage, one that the Autobots would have trouble contending with.

"There's one other thing that bothers me. It's been bogging my processor ever since the battle a few days ago. The sudden withdrawal of the Britannian forces by Prince Clovis was no accident."

"Prince Clovis?"

"Possibly our mysterious savior. Unfortunately, he's dead. Word from the local news said that he was shot by an honorary Britannian. Goes by the name Suzaku Kururugi."
Optimus cupped his chin and nodded. "Hmmm. We need to investigate this. I'm sending Nightbeat and some of our other personnel to assist you. Wheeljack will also be bringing in equipment that will aid you in your mission."

"Nightbeat?" Prowl replied as he twitched his left optic. He held respect for the detective's reputation when it came to handling investigations. Though he recalled in his memory banks that Nightbeat also had a tendency to be a bit unorthodox in his methods and preferred playing the lone wolf when he worked on cases.

"Are you certain on sending him for this particular mission?"

"If there is one thing that I can respect about Nightbeat, it's his persistence in seeking the truth. Once he arrives with the others, I want you to gather whatever intelligence you can. If possible, seek out and capture those facsimiles. Our main priority remains in the location and recovery of the Golden Disk. Keep a low tactical profile. There's no telling how far the Decepticons have spread their influence. For the time being we will lean on the side of caution."

Prowl maintained his composure, and brought himself to full height. "I understand, sir. We'll be keeping in touch."

"Primus be with you."

Prime's avatar faded into the nothingness, leaving the deputy commander deep in thought.

---

Several hours had passed before the transwarp rods that regulated passage into Area 11 came to life. Each were lit by three orange rings, all of them indicators that a teleportation sequence was under way. It wasn't until moments later that the portal that brought the Autobots to this alternate Earth materialized. Afterwards, Nightbeat and three other members exited the portal single file. All of them (save one) were eager with anticipation in exploring this strange reality.

The blue-white mech Mirage wasn't very talkative after the arrival. He preferred the elegance of Cybertron, as opposed to traveling to another version of the same planet which he held no real love for. Drift, a blademaster clad in pure white armor, gave an inquisitive look but smiled as he tilted his head from side to side. He shouldered his longsword on his right pauldron as he moved onward. Wheeljack was the last bot to disembark, the engineer glowing with the same joyful exuberance as he always had when it came to engineering and exploration.
Jazz led the Cybertronian personnel that arrived prior and greeted their comrades in ernest. Each shook hands with each other as their human compatriots looked on. Prowl came in not too far behind. The deputy commander's face betrayed no emotion as he joined the special ops head to meet the newcomers.

"Good to see you, guys."

"Um-hmm. You too, Jazz. Prowl. Alright, straight to the point: I got the word from Optimus. To what do I owe the pleasure of providing my talents?" Nightbeat inquired.

"We're going to be doing some digging. Information gathering," Prowl said succinctly.

"So I've been told. While we're settling in, we also bear gifts," the inspector beamed as he gestured toward a trio of hover crates. They had a metallic sheen along with the Autobot decal imprinted on the side. Wheeljack spoke a moment later.

"A little something we brought along that will be able to help us in our mission."
The mechanical engineer's optics brimmed with enthusiasm as he aimed a remote towards the direction of the containers. An audible click was heard from the device, before Prowl and company turned to face the newcomers' precious cargo. The crates depressurized and hissed out steam before the seals separated, unveiling the contents within. Prowl walked up to the exposed crates, and crossed his arms upon a sight he thought he'd never see again.

"Pretender shells?"

"Yep."

Prowl shuddered at even mentioning those words to Wheeljack. The history that went with the shells never escaped his memory banks. Their usage were deemed a touchy subject by the Autobot military. Where they were originally conceived as an external armor plating to give added protection for Transformers against extreme environments, numerous additions were included as scientific advances continued. Over time, the purpose of the shells evolved to disguising Transformers into biological lifeforms. When the Decepticons first ventured into this project, the test trials ended with disastrous consequences, driving their subjects insane or comatose. Autobot research into the project faded into the of winds history when word of its side effects came to light.
After the chaos of the war waned and the Decepticons scattered in splinter groups across the galaxy, the Autobots began to re-explore the option of developing Pretender shells. Past encounters with less-developed races who were not used to the presence of Transformers on their homeworlds warranted the necessity to find alternate means to study alien cultures, where the size and constitution of regular Cybertronians made it impossible to do so. While there was no clear determination as to whether or not when the technology would be studied and put into practical use, present circumstances demanded that new measures were needed.

"Wheeljack, I've read the reports on what the shells do to their hosts. Are you really sure this is a good idea?"

"Absolutely."

Prowl wanted with all his spark to agree with the resourceful mech. However, given that Wheeljack's inventions had a tendency to backfire he couldn't help but cling to his doubts. Memories of the incident involving fuel stabilizers ended with nearly disastrous consequences were it not for the intervention of the famous scientist Perceptor.

"Look, I can understand your skepticism since the grafting process itself was of Decepticon origin. But I've been working with Brainstorm on this for a while. Trust me, it's much safer than it was in its first concept. We made some pretty heavy changes."

Do I want to chance the mission on this? Prowl thought fervently. Once he considered the circumstances, he gave a curt nod to the white mech as a sign of consent. Wheeljack took it as a blessing and faced the crowd of onlookers.

"All right. I'll need three volunteers."

"I'll do it," Jazz said.

"Same here," Sideswipe added before he pointed a thumb in Sunstreaker’s direction.

"No! Absolutely not!" the yellow twin shot back vehemently with glazed optics. "I'm good-looking enough without having to wear the guise of a fleshbag!"

Jazz did not twitch, though he was saddened by the statement the yellow twin made. Everyone knew the special ops lieutenant had a penchant when it came to understanding the finer nuances of foreign civilizations. He watched in silence as the brothers continued to argue with each other over wearing the shells.

"Come on bro, it's a learning experience," Sideswipe said, ever insistent in swaying his brother to chip in. Sunstreaker walked up close to his twin and remained adamant in his resistance.

"The answer is still no."

"Afraid that I'll be hogging all the fun and glory while you're over here kissing skidplates?"

Anger began to well up within the mind of the yellow Lambo. His fists were clutched to his sides, trying to resist the urge to make a dent to the Sideswipe's face plate. All within proximity of the of two squabbling mechs caught on the spectacle. Before Sunstreaker raised any more of a ruckus, Jazz moved himself in-between to defuse the quarrel.

"Listen, 'Streaker. I know that you're not exactly fond of Earthlings. I'm asking you not as your superior. but as a friend."
The white mech placed a hand on Sunstreaker's shoulder.

"Besides, if we ever get into a scuffle we'll need someone else besides Sides to watch our backs. After all, two's better than one."

Sunstreaker shifted glances and finally resigned himself to Jazz's request before he raised an index finger. "Alright. Just this once."


---


Each of the three Autobots bore external metallic plates that fitted around their frames. At first they were somewhat hesitant the moment they first attached the constructs onto their bodies. Wheeljack rambled on about the new features as the trio examined their new equipment, whose excitement was apparent for this new invention.

"We made extensive modifications to the shells since their first introduction many vorns ago. When the Decepticons first started this, there was a programming flaw that corrupted a Transformer's subroutines. We re-wrote the code from scratch, so it's much more stable now. Thus, you won't have any issue of ending up being insane or comatose like those first bots. The shells are equipped with microscopic nanites that regulate your size and mass change requirements. When you first alter into your organic forms, your bodies will undergo a temporary shutdown while the transformation is taking effect. Once you turn into humans, you are capable of processing human foods and liquids for consumption, and last for several days before you need to recharge. However, that comes at the cost of losing a fraction of your strength and your weapons systems from your original robot states. Your sensitivity to pain will be increased, although you still have the option of shuting off your pain receptors.

"Once you change back into your robot forms it will require a certain expenditure of energy for the transformation. As the process occurs, it will take up at least fifteen percent of your body's internal energon stores in order for the nanites to re-constitute your original state, so you’ll want to use that option sparingly. Also, your shells are tied specifically to your individual genetic codes, so you don't have to worry about the 'Cons tampering with them. On a side note: in combat situations, your shells come as an added layer of protection. It can withstand weapons fire and aid in your regenerative functions. However, once it sustains too much damage it'll put your bodies into stasis lock. Remember: this thing's biological armor. You're a part of it and it's a part of you. If needed, you can also remotely control your shell via subdermal chips in your cerebral processors if you need to disguise yourselves quickly and vice versa. They can shrink and compress so that they can fit in the back storage of your superstructures."

"Sounds good. Let's get started," Jazz said, unable to resist the urge that caught up his processor. He always wondered what it felt like to live and walk like an Earthling. Now he and two of his fellow warriors got the chance to experience a more hands-on approach. Their plates enveloped them in a mesh of numerous minuscule robots that would alter them in a way that their human cohorts would never thought possible. Soon their bodies became bathed in light within their shells.


---


|Initializing conversion...|

|Re-booting core processor...|

|System operations normal...|

|All cerebral functions running at optimal levels...|

|Awakening...|

Chip and a group of other techs watched in awe at the result of the three Autobots' transformation. Their having observed the Pretender transformation process felt akin to watching cocoons metamorphose into butterflies. All of the volunteers discarded their helmets and exhaled
as the change reached its conclusion when the light dissipated.

"Impressive," Spike mused, visibly astounded at the changes the Autobot operatives underwent. The human liaison spun towards the mechanical engineer and back to the team of newly altered Cybertronians.

"I got to give you credit, Wheeljack. They certainly look like the real deal."

"How are you guys feeling?" Wheeljack asked.

"Small..." Sunstreaker said, staring back at Prowl who towered over him. The yellow twin felt somewhat daunted not by the sheer size of his fellow Autobot, but at the fact that he was feigning as an organic lifeform of a world he was not native of. He never felt that kind of emotion in his entire existence. "I feel completely... small..."

"This is amazing!" exclaimed Sideswipe. The youthful soldier laughed himself away as he did handstand, back flips, and other aerobic feats around the garage. Never before had the Autobots seen such cheerfulness in him when he served alongside them. Jazz was not too far off, examining the features of his new organic body as he posed himself towards the reflection of one of the crates.

“Very nice...” the Autobot spec ops officer whispered in self-admiration. He had light brown skin and sported a goatee that extended to his sideburns. Jazz welcomed the change with great enthusiasm.

For the three Pretenders, it was one big adjustment that they would have to get used to quickly.


---


Not too long after their little exhibition with the shells, Jazz and the twins scavenged for clothes for their upcoming mission. Prowl tasked the three mechs with Trailbreaker for an exploration of the Tokyo Settlement. Spike volunteered to accompany the team since he was the expedition's chief liaison. He busied himself prepping his standard issue tactical kit, including weapons, ammo, and first aid if the team got into trouble. Marissa tapped Spike from behind and handed him a pocket-sized gray handheld with a light blue screen.

"Chip thought you might need this. He's been scavenging the internet for information on those things that we encountered a few days ago. The data's been uploaded into the PDA. It's not as good as Jane's, but it gives at least a basic outline into some of the machinery we're up against."

Spike took a cursory glance at the device and sifted through each entry. Pistols, assault rifles, tanks, aircraft, the works. Upon the next entry within the storage device his face brightened with recognition on the digital image. A portrait of the blue mecha that the Autobots fought earlier was dubbed the 'Sutherland'.

"Knightmare Frames, eh? Thanks, Marissa. I'll take a look at some more on the way to the city," he said before he paged down through the some final details and pocketed the the device into his jeans. He walked to the side of the garage where the three Pretenders finished changing their clothes.

"You guys ready?"

"We're set over here," Jazz said. The white Porsche-turned organic lookalike walked alongside the Lambo twins. Jazz was calm, composed, and wore a white shirt with a men's suit and a green tie. Spike was impressed by the special ops agent, the latter knew good taste when it came to clothing. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker wore casual attire of normal-looking civilians that helped their brighten their youthful appearance. The red twin had auburn hair, with bluish eyes and a curved face that would've made him an instant winner with human women. Sunstreaker's form shared similar qualities with his sibling, save for the blond hair and the deadly gaze he retained from his original robot form. Spike, satisfied with the results, signaled the team to follow him.

"Alright, let's get Trailbreaker and head out to Tokyo. We could use a little sight-seeing."


---


Downtown
Tokyo Settlement, Area 11

On the ride over to the settlement, Jazz and Spike sat in the back and studied the history of this new Earth in great detail from the information they were given. What they've read thus far disturbed them. They stumbled upon entries that outright shocked them. Benjamin Franklin bribed by the British. George Washington's rebellion against the imperium. The failure of the American Revolution...

"So the United States as a nation never even existed," Spike said with a solemn face.

"Japan's been turned to a colony, and its people are now called Elevens...” Jazz concluded before he asked: “Remind you of anything?"

"Yeah, I recall facts about the Irish being indentured servants after they arrived to America. Same for the Italians. Also reminds me of the Industrial era where European nations expanded throughout Africa, China, and India. Of course, we're equally as guilty. I wonder what else is different out here..."

On the subject of alternate identities, Jazz settled on Jerome Snyder. He is the eldest brother of Chris and Evan Snyder (Sideswipe and Sunstreaker respectively). The three migrated from the Britannian mainland on a business venture to Japan, and came across Spike, who worked as a contractor for the government. Chip was still busy working on producing plausible cover stories for the team if they ever came across a hurdle, so Jazz brought it upon himself to school the twins in Earth culture to help them blend in with the population.

Once they reached the outer limits of the city, Trailbreaker deposited the group near an avenue where it connected to a series of stores and shops. Jazz fished his jacket's breast pocket and produced four plastic cards. Spike's eyes inspected them as he faced back in his cohort's direction. They were based off the civilian I.D. founded off of the dead facsimile.

"I.D. Cards?"

"Courtesy of Chip. Might come in handy."

"I'll have to thank him later."

"Alright, Trailbreaker. We're going to be roving around for a bit. You might want to do the same so as not to arouse suspicion," Jazz suggested.

"Definitely. I'll be staying in communications range in case you need me. And guys, good luck," Trailbreaker said before he left on his own.


---


Night settled in as the four friends explored the Tokyo Settlement. The distance was forgiving since their group were within less than an hour's travel time if they needed to re-stock on certain supplies. While Prowl insisted that the four keep a low profile, it didn't prevent them from having a little bit fun. He decided to place his trust in Spike and Jazz to lead since both were capable of adapting on the fly. They had to play the role of guardians since the twins had a strong tendency to be impulsive in their behavior at times. Spike wanted to give his friends an unofficial 'initiation ceremony' for the transition into human culture. He suggested heading out to a nearby bar, before Sideswipe uttered something.

"Hard currency, anyone?"

The other three turned their attention to 'Chris' as he whipped out a small stack of bills out of his khakis. Spike's eyes narrowed at the very sight of them.

"Where did you get that?”

"Oh, with the help of a little gizmo Wheeljack whipped up. Got the money from an ATM machine."

Spike gave a reprimanding stare at the red twin. The SEAL officer needed to have a little word with the wily engineer once he got back to base.

"You're welcome," Sideswipe said with a boyish, child-like demeanor.
The team continued onward into the city until they spotted an establishment a few more blocks down called 'Violet Hour'. Spike led them in with Jazz and the twins in tow. It had an elegant feel to it, where the mahogany tables were arranged alongside the windows, and gave an excellent view of outside activity. When they reached the bar, Spike ordered their drinks. The bartender came back and delivered their beer bottles and glass mugs with due haste, as each poured their liquids into their respective mugs. The SEAL led first with his mug raised high while the group followed suit. The Cybertronians shared a similar custom on their world when they drank glasses of high-grade energon for a celebratory occasion.

"To peace and friendship," Spike began.

"To peace and friendship," the other three echoed in unison. All of them sipped the frothy gold liquid. Jazz did not know what to think, but drank more of his beer anyway.

"This ain't too bad!" Sideswipe said, his face slightly contorted as his body tried to adjust to the flavor of the foamy drink.

"I'd rather have some high-grade..." Sunstreaker frowned. The unfamiliar taste of human alcohol in his mouth left an impression on his taste buds that he wouldn't forget. Oh how he missed Cybertron...

An audible beep was heard as Spike reached for his cell phone. He glanced at the device and gestured to Jazz. Whatever he saw on the phone, the human commander's face implied that it was something important. Jazz nodded in understanding, and turned to the twins with instructions to wait while he and Spike went towards the window to discuss business matters. By then they were out of sight of the Lambo brothers.

From of the corner of his eye, Sideswipe spotted a group of thugs beating up an elderly Japanese man. He lightly rapped on his brother's shoulder, pointing in the direction of the gang. Sunstreaker glanced over at his back and watched at the event unfold. Then, he turned away towards the bar and faced down at his drink.

"We just gonna sit here and do nothing?" the red twin questioned.

"It doesn't have anything to do with us."

"Like the Pit it doesn't!" Sideswipe whispered to his brother's ear. "Damn it, he's a defenseless man! We can't just watch by the sidelines with our hands tied!"
Sunstreaker spun again and considered the scenario as the beating continued. After a moment of consideration, he launched out of his chair and darted outside. Sideswipe quickly went after his sibling as the latter faced himself towards the group of hoodlums that were assaulting the elderly man. The pair quickly caught the attention of the ravenous gang. All of them sported spiked baseball bats, chains, and other assorted contraband weapons.

Soon the leader of the mob stepped forward, his musculature large and well-defined.

"What are you looking at, punk?"

"I was just wondering, is it just me or do certain people here in the city always beat up on the minority?" Sideswipe smirked. These thugs believed that they were facing off against two human outsiders. Little did the gang know they were going to be in for a big surprise.

"What's this Eleven to you?"

"Let's just say... I don't take very kindly on those who oppress the weak, especially the elderly,” the red twin snarled.

"Then perhaps me and my boys'll take out our aggressions on you then!"

"You're welcome to try," Sideswipe challenged.

One gangster stepped forward, lunging a blade at him before a fist sent him flying twelve feet into the air. Immediately Sunstreaker and Sideswipe stood back to back as the encirclement closed upon them. Both Pretenders held their ground as the Britannians all swarmed at once. The yellow twin sent three of them keeling over with a swift kick. Sideswipe head-butted one of the taller ones before he launched a sharp right hook along to the man's cheek. Dozens of civilians looked onward as the conflict escalated.

The brawl continued for a good ten minutes, and gave the twins a much desired workout. All save for the leader got back on his feet, his face swollen with marks and bruises. Everyone else who fought them were unconscious or groaned in pain. Either way, the two siblings gave their opponents a taste of some badly needed punishment.

"Want some more?" the red Pretender shot out as he cracked his knuckles. No replies were given, every member of the gang was already worn out from the fight earlier.

"Chris! Evan! That's enough!" Jazz called from afar as he walked to the source of the commotion.

"You'll have to forgive these guys. They had a little too much to drink," the older bot smiled before he dragged the twins back into the bar. The gang that assaulted the elderly Japanese man recovered themselves and scurried off in fear, leaving the Pretenders free to resume their business.

After the situation settled to a calm, Jazz turned to the two siblings and warned them with a brotherly-like disposition. "You need to be careful out there. We're trying to maintain our cover."

"We couldn't sit here and do nothing," Sideswipe argued.

Jazz whispered to the red twin's ear and insisted: "Look man, I know this whole subservient thing with the Japanese is hard to swallow. but we have to keep a low profile. We can't help every Japanese person we come across. Trust me, I'm feeling the same way you do. Come on, let's get Spike and pay for the drinks so we can vamoose."


---


Near the main lounge area of the bar, there was a collective of customers scattered around a TV connected to the wall. Whatever was happening caught their interest in a heartbeat. On the display was Suzaku Kururugi, who was covered in a straightjacket that constricted his movement.

"Hey look, something's happening!"

"Who is that?”

One masked man filled the television screen. A squad of Sutherlands surrounded the unknown individual, whose black gold-trimmed cape flapped as the winds blew through the air. Commotion filled the entire area as the mysterious human stood atop a personal transport that belonged to the late Prince Clovis.

"The man who killed Clovis... was myself!" exclaimed the individual.

Spike pulled out his cellular and hurriedly called back the base.


---


Autobot Outpost
Shinjuku Ghetto, Area 11

Chip leaned against the garage wall as he smoked his cigarette. he discarded the object and walked back inside through the back door of the garage. The building was dimly lit as everyone preoccupied themselves in preparation for Spike's upcoming assignment.

"Yes?"

"Chip, it's Spike. Are you on your laptop right now?"

"No but I was just about to do some work. Why?"

"Turn on the local news channel. Get Prowl and Marissa there as well."

"Is there something wrong?"

"No, but it's something that they need to see. Our mysterious savior decided to make an appearance."

Not another second went to waste as Chip pulled his laptop out of sleep mode and initiated a link to the local news network. It didn't take long until Prowl and Marissa caught wind of Spike's call. All three associates perched in front of his screen as they watched the spectacle with Suzaku's rescue unfold. What they saw before their eyes baffled them completely. The acting consul in charge of the public execution of Suzaku Kururugi ordered his release to the entity named Zero. It became a chaotic situation where intent to put the Japanese man to death was replaced by a grim determination in allowing him to go free. The vigilante took advantage of the chaos and pulled Suzaku to safety atop a connecting bridge, disappearing from public view. One thing's for sure, the name of the individual who pulled off this daring little stunt would forever be imprinted on the minds of viewers around the colony.

Zero.

End of Chapter 2

After several months of not posting for this story I decided to jump back on the wagon again and gauge reactions of the fic. Chapters 3, 4, and 5 will be posted shortly.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Code Geass or Transformers. They are (respectively) the property of Sunrise/CLAMP and IDW/Takara/Hasbro.

Rated: T for violence and language. (additional content possibly to follow)

Lelouch ponders future action in Area 11, while Spike undergoes a covert mission in retrieving information concerning the whereabouts of the Golden Disk.



Chapter 3: Dark Shadows



Brighton Estate
Tokyo Settlement, Area 11

Inside Duke Brighton's household a chess match was taking place. Behind its oak doors the halls were elaborate with silk curtains and frescoed paintings that added a Victorian feel of the decor. Each floor was constructed out of fine marble, a carryover from the legacy of the Roman Empire. Such monumental enhancements was something that only aristocratic families such as Brighton's could afford.

On the second level a large crowd gathered around the two competitors. One of the players was a young man in his teens, with jet-black hair and violet eyes filled with determination. Outwardly he appeared as nothing other than an overconfident schoolboy. Members of the audience, including the duke were perplexed at his disposition. Whispers were rampant among the nobles as they watched onward.

"Arrogant little upstart. Who does he think he is?"

"A student against a noble? How atrocious."

"He seems to be holding well against the duke, though."

Chess fascinated Lelouch Lamperouge ever since he was a child. It was a game that led him to understand himself more as he grew older. He enjoyed it because he felt that with each opponent he played against was a test that measured his intellectual limits. While each opponent had sixteen pieces, only the person that used them in an economic fashion would prove himself the better player.

Rivalz Cardemonde stood afar in anticipation of Lelouch's eventual triumph against his adversary. Duke Brighton was a large fellow, overweight if not haughty and indifferent towards those he considered to be lesser beings. He held a hard gaze at his younger foe, an indirect manner of challenging the boy to best him.

"Preoccupied on delaying the inevitable, pup?"

"No. Far from it, actually."

Several minutes passed, and the odds were not in the duke's favor. The Britannian ex-prince analyzed the pieces that were situated across the board furtively. His right hand twirled with his black queen around his thumb.
Auxiliary units which consisted of two knights and a bishop cornered the white queen to the edge of the playing field. The knights were positioned in a manner where their placement allowed them to 'fork' their target. Lelouch's bishop provided support by blocking the white king to prevent it from eluding their field coverage and make headway for the final stroke.

After a few seconds spent observing the positions of the remaining forces from both sides, he decided it was time to execute his endgame.

All conditions are cleared. The path to victory lays open before me.

“Checkmate,” he declared. The aristocrats that surrounded him and his competitor gasped in astonishment. Not only did Lelouch defeat another noble, he also defeated one of the more renowned chess players in Area 11. The duke staggered back in disbelief, completely vexed at the outcome of the game. Rivalz patted Lelouch on the shoulder, and commended him on his victory before they went to secure the winnings and depart.


---


“Time?”

The blue-haired Britannian glanced at his watch. “Eight minutes and forty-two seconds.”

Damn, I'm lagging, he thought to himself as he rubbed his right temple.

“Is something wrong, Lelouch?”

“Oh, I just got a slight headache. Not too much to worry over.”

Except for the fact that I now command a group of terrorists who share a deep hatred for the empire. A group that deserves careful attention.

Fatigue wore away at the ex-Britannian prince's mind. Living a double life as a student and caped vigilante was not an easy task. Having spent numerous nights plotting and conducting surgical strikes against the Britannian Empire and rogue criminal elements proved taxing if it weren't for the assistance from the Shinjuku resistance. Then he thought back on the one woman who granted him the power which he has in his possession.

C.C.

Geass.

The ability of controlling the will of others was a convenient power, so much to the point that it was frightening. Though some of the senior individuals within his resistance group questioned how he managed to procure certain assets for their war against Britannia, he finagled his way out through the explanation that he secured favors from certain individuals who shared in their anger against the empire.

Life felt akin to chess for Lelouch. Plotting moves and countermoves in this particular game was like child's play to him. For a person of his age, he was highly adept at it and held a great sense of depth perception when it came to the social climate of the world and international politics. He founded the comparison of reality to the game he frequently engaged himself in utterly chilling. Decisions that were rendered had consequences that could make or break individuals. While he appeared to be a slacker on the surface, he possessed a keen intellect that instilled fear among his enemies.

He was also known to be attached, if not overly protective of his younger sister Nunnally. For the two of them, each day held its own unique challenges, and both took it in strides. Living amongst the civilian population in Area 11 opened their eyes to the sufferings of the Japanese. Robbed of all rights and freedoms granted by the previous national government, the citizens spend each of their waking hour living no better than slaves under the iron fist of the Holy Britannian Empire.

None save for a select few knew of their royal heritage. The siblings adopted their mother's maiden name Lamperouge for fear that they might be discovered by hostile elements of the imperial family and become targets for assassination. It was a frightening prospect that Lelouch wished to avoid at all costs. At the same time, he wanted to dismantle the Britannian regime ruled by his father, and seek out the truth behind his mother's death. He suspected her assassination to be an inside job. There was simply no way for mere terrorists to breach the imperial palace without assistance from someone in the upper echelons of the monarchy. To go at such lengths and make the event look like a terrorist attack irked him completely. His reaction to the whole ordeal prompted him to confront the emperor, who was nonchalant at the death of Marianne. Lelouch thus discarded his royal status, and was exiled from the homeland alongside his sister to Japan as bargaining chips.

In time, he would make the empire pay dearly for the injustice they both suffered, and avenge the death of their mother.

He would have to calculate his moves accordingly, lest he falls victim to his own insatiable thirst for vengeance. His plans against the imperium required a certain level of finesse and subterfuge that the terrorist cell was more than capable of. One of his original plans involved bringing his childhood friend Suzaku into the fold. However, Suzaku being his usual naive self, kindly refused the offer. He went the honest route and faced the trial of Prince Clovis' murder anyway, in spite of the odds stacked against him.

Damn you for being an idiot, Suzaku.

Thankfully the man was spared from death, since Lelouch introduced Zero to the world as the murderer of the empire's third prince. However, Lelouch wanted to retain the option of having Suzaku as his sister's guardian before he begins his campaign against Britannia. When the time came, he would dispose of the current regime and replace it with one that did not differentiate people based on their wealth and social status. A better place in which Nunnally could live in happily.

Happiness. Something that's been in short supply lately.

“Lelouch? Earth to Lelouch!”

Rivalz's voice snapped the ex-prince back to reality.

“Are you sure you're alright?”

Lelouch offered a smile to assuage his friend's concern and erase any hint of suspicion: “Trust me. Let's just head to school.”


---


Autobot Outpost
Shinjuku Ghetto, Area 11

Daylight flooded the Autobot's Shinjuku outpost. Feeling enthused for a jog inside the factory, Spike stretched his limbs and ran around the upper ring level before he stumbled onto a preoccupied Wheeljack. The engineer held a fusion torch in his black metallic fist, which he lit upon a small oval-shaped device. Spike didn't know what to make of it, and Wheeljack noticed the curious look the human gave when he saw the SEAL lift a brow with child-like fascination.

"Am I intruding on something?"

"Nope. I just finished up my newest invention," replied the white mech.

"What is it?"

"It's a micro-relay node. This little gimmick extends the line of sight for our communications by several kilometers through laser induction."

Spike shifted his weight on the rails. "In essence, they're repeaters."

"Exactly."

"Sounds like an interesting device."

"Wait 'til you see it in action. Speaking of action, Prowl needs to talk to you,"
Wheeljack said.

"Did he say anything specific?"

"It concerns the upcoming mission."

"I figured as much," Spike sighed. "Thanks, Wheeljack."


---


Elsewhere, Prowl leaned against the holographic display as it changed into a 3D representation of the Tokyo Settlement. They were segregated into clusters of colors, where the majority of the city was lit in light blue. A few select structures further beyond the premises of the nearby industrial sectors were highlighted in red. Every map on the settlement was collected from real-time satellite imagery when Chip managed to hack into the Britannian military network, before he broke off to avoid suspicion of tampering with their space-based systems. It would prove invaluable in the team's future endeavors.

"I heard you needed to see me, Prowl."

"I did," the deputy commander admitted. "We've been prepping for tonight's mission. Since the Britannians have committed a lot of their resources in finding this 'Zero', we can move about a little more freely within the city. We have ascertained the location of a contracting firm called Lukas International. It's a business partner tied with a group called the Rosenberg Institute, and both are engaged in military research."

Prowl clicked on the pad to his terminal where a light orange rectangle stood out from one of the glowing red structures.

"Inside the CEO's office there is a computer terminal which has information pertaining to the identities of personnel involved in the science and technology division. We need to take a closer look at the data and find out if they know anything about the Golden Disk."

Another keystroke materialized a green arrow into Spike's point of insertion.
"You'll be entering through a ventilation shaft which links to the rest of the firm. Chip will be on standby to initiate a 'shutdown' for this section of the city before you get inside. It will give the impression that there's a temporary power failure and place the building under emergency power."

"What's my time limit?"

"Thirty-five to forty minutes, tops."

Spike scratched his chin pensively and asked: "When we breached the network couldn't we have ascertained the location of the personnel database from there?"

"Unfortunately, when Chip hacked inside we found out that the terminal itself is an isolated workstation separate from the one the CEO usually uses. Thus, that only leaves us with the option of retrieving the data through physical means."

"Which is where I come into play."

"Yes," Prowl replied. "Trailbreaker's already on stand-by with Ironhide and Nightbeat. We'llbe deploying the new relay nodes that Wheeljack's manufactured and do some field testing before we start tonight. Your NSA associates has a tactical kit ready for you with Trailbreaker at the moment."

"Right. You know, I've been thinking about the battle when we first got here in Shinjuku. Do you think this Zero rescued us intentionally?"

"To be honest, I tried not to dwell on the matter too much. However, I believe it to be purely coincidental that he managed to pull it off. Why he killed Prince Clovis is beyond me. Regardless, we must avoid direct confrontation with the Britannians and any other powers they're contesting with."

"Somehow, I have a feeling this is going to get much worse than we thought it to be..." Spike whispered to himself.


---


Ashford Academy
Tokyo Settlement, Area 11

It was the same routine when it came to high school life in Ashford Academy. Lelouch drummed his fingers lightly on the table as the teacher prodded on through the physics lesson. He maintained little to no effort in trying to keep his eyes open, twirling a pencil in his right handto alleviate his boredom.

Thoughts of the speech his father made shortly after the little spectacle of the cat chase around the school two days ago clawed at his conscious. Evolution: the one word he used as 'progress' for Britannia, the imperial scourge ever unceasing in its continual campaign of dominance and tyranny of the Earth. To Lelouch it was nothing other than an excuse to trample over others for its own twisted purposes, something that could not be forgiven. It's this ideal that propels him to destroy the empire at all costs, even if he has to lie, manipulate, and destroy in order to achieve his goals. After all, the life he lived felt nothing more than an illusion.

When classes finally finished Lelouch darted out and occupied himself in the school library. He sat behind his laptop as news of Zero circulated around the internet. He became an instant celebrity, baffling authorities when he snatched Kururugi out of the clutches of Jeremiah Gottwald. One slim finger struck another key on the computer as he scrolled further into the details.
Jeremiah Gottwald became demoted under the suspicion that he conspired with Zero to allow his prisoner to go free. Lelouch chuckled inwardly as he read further on the aftermath following the rescue. Those that followed Gottwald's command were also stripped of their rank and privileges, reduced to nothing more than pilots under the auspices of the imperium. Such actions were a fatal blow to the morale of Gottwald and his troops. The 'Orange Incident' would forever be imprinted in the minds of the populace where one certain caped individual dared to defy the empire and make a mockery of the ideals which it held in high regard.

Then he spotted an entry into the announcement of his elder sister Cornelia li Britannia taking over as viceroy. When she took charge of Area 11 she began a massive manhunt in finding the murderer of Clovis. Elements of the Yamato Alliance and the Japanese Liberation Front were swiftly decimated by her forces. He scrolled through the texts and founded that her assistants were none other than General Andreas Darlton and Lord Gilbert Guilford, her two most trusted advisors. If he was going to ascertain the truth behind his mother's death, he would have to do it soon.

The memory of Clovis begging for his life before he was shot emanated. He mentioned that Schneizel and Cornelia knew the details about the assassination. Thus, since Cornelia had a penchant for frontline combat Lelouch would start with her first.

"Perhaps it's time I played my hand, dear sister," the ex-prince said as he gazed towards the sunset. Its orange hue faded slowly as the hour ticked by.


---


Lukas International
Tokyo Settlement, Area 11

Neon-colored lights dotted across the cityscape. Gray clouds billowed in the darkness above, which gave Spike his opportunity to shine once more. Clad in an unmarked black kevlar bi-weave suit, he stood atop the adjacent complex that linked to the firm: a tower seven stories in height. His face was shrouded in a mask where no one could identify him. In his mind, he prayed that the plan with the shutdown of the building's commercial power worked. The information Chip gave him prior to his departure indicated that there was only a small team of security and civilian personnel inside the structure, so he would have free reign through its inner recesses, find the terminal and steal the data.

"How's the link working?" asked Spike.

"Line's clear. Looks like the micro-relay nodes work perfectly," Prowl replied.

"Good to hear," Spike answered tersely, mindful to keeping the transmissions short.

The past several hours were furious when the Autobots carefully maneuvered their way to different sectors of Tokyo deploying Wheeljack's new device. Tests were conducted to ensure the security of their communications line. 'Groundhogs', as the NSA agents dubbed them, were designed to dig into the local terrain. Each relay was placed in a fashion where only the expedition knew of their locations. and invisible to the naked eye. It allowed them perfect coverage of the surrounding area around the capital that linked back to Shinjuku, just enough so that they could see and hear everything within several kilometers from beyond the ghetto. Any curious onlooker who managed to stumble on the device would force it to self-destruct, leaving no trace of evidence.

Time for a little midnight stroll.

Spike jumped across to the firm's from the rooftop of the connecting tower. Traffic noises were rampant as the streets raged with vehicular activity from below. The SEAL spent a moment gazing at the city in admiration before he continued with his mission. Approximately twenty four meters from his position, a camera hovered near the entrance where he would breach through and enter. He guessed the range of the camera to be no more than ninety feet, which was well within the range of his jammer.

Recollections of the old days with the CIA and the navy came back to mind. He participated in dozens of missions where he had to kill, steal, and destroy. If there was one thing Spike learned: it's that there was no place on Earth that could not be breached. Everything had a weakness, it was simply a matter of whether it could be found and exploited. The SEAL considered this mission a cakewalk in comparison.

He drew a breath and exhaled before he carried on with his task. In one quick motion he brought out his silencer, equipped with the optically charged potentiator (OCP) and initiated the jamming at the lens of the security camera. The commando was fond of the OCP; it had the ability to temporarily disable all manner of electronics: everything from computers to TV screens and light fixtures. The camera's spasms of its internal wirings indicated a successful jamming, as he made a quick dash towards the ventilation entrance to avoid detection before the camera reinitialized itself.

He reached into one of his pants pockets and pulled a small kit containing a set of lockpicks. The SEAL dispensed one of the thin instruments and skillfully worked through the lock's mechanisms. After a few clicks, he clutched on the handle and proceeded into the room where the air ventilation unit. In the center spun a fan blade that rotated in a speed which could hack anything into mincemeat.

"Alright, I'm near the insertion point," Spike said through his headpiece.

"Stand by," Chip replied.

After a few seconds, the swirling blade fan came to a sudden halt.

"Alright Spike, you're clear to move."

Only a fifteen-second window. Plenty of time, Spike thought quietly to himself.

Not a moment longer, the SEAL jumped through before emergency power came up.

"I'm in," Spike said as he mounted his tri-focal night vision goggles.
Everything in sight was bathed in green white light. The passageways of the tower had blue carpeting, and the ceiling lights were offline. It made moving around and blending in the shadows easier for Spike. He carefully peeked around the halls as he moved onward, mindful of the roving security personnel. The ones he encountered so far walked with flashlights beamed in front of them as they conducted their patrols with sidearms readied.

Thankfully none spotted him, since stealth was part of his many crafts.
In his mind he felt akin to a rat in a lab experiment, wandering through the maze-like complexity of Lukas International as he continued travelling. To his left, the SEAL moved while crouched at a brisk pace towards an open air duct. Spike took a moment to scan his surroundings before he maneuvered himself (albeit uncomfortably) into the space. After nearly seven minutes spent navigating through a series of interlocked ducts, Spike crept outside to a wide and dimly lit room where computer terminals were scattered across the area. Each separated by walls that made it easier to hide. From what Spike has seen, there was no one in proximity to his location.
Seventeen minutes so far.

"I'm situated near the network office," Spike called as he checked his map through his OPSAT (operational satellite) display from his wrist.

"The chief exec's office should be about thirty meters away from the western column of workstations," Chip replied.

Spike moved as swiftly as he could through the hallway. The NSA liaison took measured steps before he reached the end of his route. After he reached three-fourths of his path he paused for a moment and examined the area before he proceeded towards the door of his target. On the wall next to the entry point was a panel with numeric keys. Spike mentally cursed to himself before the intelligence analyst interrupted the SEAL's train of thought.

"You should be near the objective now, Spike."

"It's secured with a keypad next to the door."

"Hmm. Uh-oh, incoming guard closing on your six," Chip warned on the comm line.

Spike rolled behind a wall adjacent to the CEO's office. The SEAL crouched his body and inched his head around the corner. From his hiding spot he watched a lone guard as the latter veered right towards the NSA liaison's direction. The guard sported a blue uniform with a service cap and tie, pistol and flashlight in hand. Spike backed away as the man directed his light at the entrance of the chief executive's office. Once the guard reached his destination Spike unsheathed his combat knife and grabbed the unsuspecting man from behind, with the blade's tip aimed towards the throat.

"Hi," Spike said in a venomous tone. "I'd drop the gun if I were you."

Frightened, the man complied and dropped the pistol on the deck. "Who are you?"

"You're in no position to ask questions," Spike replied as he kept the knife inched at the guard's jugular. "You assigned security detail to the CEO's office?"

"Yes!" shouted the guard in a muffled voice.

"Keep it down unless you want to bleed all over the floor. Tell you what, let's play a little game. Pick a number between one and ten."

The man's voice answered weakly, his mind gripped with fear: "Seven?"

"Heh, lucky. Tell me something useful."

"Wh-What?"

"What's the access code into the CEO's office?"

"I can't tell you."

"Perhaps you want to go another round?"

"No! Wait! It's 15763. 15763!" the guard repeated.

"Thanks for the info. However, I can't allow to you live."

"No, please I --" the man's voice got cut off as the SEAL tightened his choke hold. The amount of pressure he exerted on the hapless guard's throat was enough to render him unconscious. Spike hoisted the guard over his shoulder as he crouched and proceeded towards his goal. He keyed the numbers and quickly went inside with the unconscious guard in tow. Not another moment was wasted as he locked the door to prevent any intrusion. Afterwards, he peeked around and observed two separate terminals situated throughout the darkened room. One was placed in the far right corner that was different in configuration from the one in front of him. It had an LCD monitor and keyboard, both devices connected to a tower chassis placed alongside a file cabinet. Moonlight spilled through the window sill behind the CEO's desk.
"I've found the terminal. Hang tight one sec, I'm going to interface with it."
He lifted his left wrist upwards and pulled wirings connected to his OPSAT, linking it to the standalone terminal. The connection created a virtual interface between the OPSAT and the CEO's computer. Inside the wrist-mounted device was an algorithm Chip made that could breach whatever encryption protected the executive's most sensitive files and open them up for access.

"All right, I'm in. Give me a moment, I'm taking a looksee through the data."
Spike trudged through the numerous directories stored within the computer. Names were listed on the glowing monitor screen as he cross-referenced identities of the different researchers associated with classified projects. One name came up that immediately caught the veteran officer's attention.

"Spike, this is Prowl. Did you find any references to the Golden Disk or the facsimiles?"

"No, I got something else. A name of somebody I'm familiar with: Thomas Arkeville," Spike answered back.

"Thomas Arkeville?" Prowl repeated.

"Yeah, used to work with him during my field ops days in the CIA."

"How does he fit into all this?" the Autobot strategist asked.

"Better if we asked him in person. I got some files right here."

"Hate to interrupt your conversation, Spike," Chip chimed in. "But you got company fifteen meters outside of the office. Three guards coming in, along with five others that are eight meters behind them."

"I'm going to get a copy of the data and download it into the OPSAT."

"Might want to make it fast, man. They're getting closer..." said Chip, whose voice showed signs of concern and anxiousness.

"Gee, thanks Chip," Spike shot out sarcastically. The SEAL remained cool in spite of the pressure mounting against him. Sweat beads dripped on his face as time ticked. Once the download finished, he drew out his pistol and fired a pair of rounds into the terminal, effectively destroying the computer and the data it stored. Much to his dismay, the building's power came back on, illuminating the entire office.

Not good.

"Gordon, you in there?!" shouted one of the security personnel.

Spike slid open the window and snuck out before the guards crashed through the main door. All of them leveled their pistols, only to find that one of their own laid on the ground, his body rolled to the side. The head of the security team peered out the window only to find nothing but winds blowing through the air.


---


Spike shimmied his way around back to the starting point and dashed back to the alley where Trailbreaker awaited. He climbed the ladder down and unmasked himself before he went into the passenger's seat of the disguised robot. The SEAL took a moment to examine his prize: tons of data stored within the OPSAT that ran numerous lines of code.

“Glad you made it out, Spike.”

“Thanks. We better leave now while we still can,” the human officer suggested.

While he continued to study the information stored on his device, it stopped short at the list of names that he read earlier back at Lukas International.

Thomas Arkeville's name was ingrained into Spike's conscious. There were a lot of questions he wanted to ask of the former CIA officer. He could not do anything but bide his time as Trailbreaker shifted gears back towards Shinjuku.

End of Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Code Geass or Transformers. They are (respectively) the property of Sunrise/CLAMP and IDW/Takara/Hasbro.

Rated: T for violence and language. (additional content possibly to follow)

The Decepticons and Britannians prepare for an incursion against the Autobots hiding in Shinjuku. Spike tells the team some information regarding Thomas Arkeville.



Chapter 4: Compass



Lukas International Primary Laboratory
Tokyo Settlement, Area 11

Dozens of spy satellites circled the Earth's atmosphere. Each maintained a constant vigil over its area of coverage. However, there was a specific one that fed streams of data back into the hub that it linked to. Digitally constructed information bits formulated a sequence of pictures on a massive monitor screen, which caught the attentive eye of one man hidden deep in the confines of the lowest sub-level of the research center. Hacked satellite recordings of a battle between the Autobot expedition and the Britannian Sutherlands cycled through the display, the man remaining studious of the encounter of the two groups.

"So they finally decided to send their lapdogs over after all. Interesting."
Behind him, a pair of doors swished open as a familiar malevolent being stepped through, the clamor of its footsteps echoed with each landing. It had wings which pointed upwards, and red optics which glowed from beyond the darkness of the room.

"What's this, Mr. Arkeville?" asked the alien, its mechanical voice shrill and otherworldly.

"It would appear that my government has sent agents over to this side," Arkeville uttered as he turned to face himself towards the giant alien sentient.

"And the Autobots have followed them, as well."

"Or rather, they followed the Autobots," the former CIA official finished. Thomas Arkeville was a tall man with a medium build, aged in his fifties. He carried with him experience that showed in the scars he obtained through numerous clandestine operations conducted around the world. Once seen as the 'go-to' guy in the field of cybernetics, his methods in regards to technological advancement by fusing man and machine were deemed too radical by the senior leadership of the agency. One could only go so far to secure the assistance of power-hungry bureaucrats whom he viewed as inefficient, greedy and oblivious when it came to operational management of an advanced field which they took for granted.

Those in the highest tiers of the agency acknowledged the fact that the first group of volunteers who underwent the transformation into cyborgs had a high rate of success through all their missions, which carried favor in the eyes of the federal government. The cyborgs' durability and operational capabilities were enhanced tenfold through increased physical strength, endurance, visual acuity and other characteristics which helped immensely in field operations.

Unfortunately for Arkeville, that success was short-lived.
After his group of field operatives' modifications, unexpected side-effects came about. Reports of brain damage, psychological trauma, shorter life expectancies and eventual death reached the ears of the politicians in Washington, which fell back to the directors at Langley. What resulted afterwards was a backlash that wrecked Arkeville's reputation for life, and led to the downfall of the cybernetics bureau, killing any hope of reviving the program in the foreseeable future.

While it made a dent to his ego, it did not deter him from his plans and paying back the CIA for the suffering he endured. When Arkeville couldn't turn to those who ran the intelligence community for help, he decided to play the devil and engage in more dangerous pursuits. He hired foreigners from around the world who severed their ties to the agency. Deals were made, and everyone won something for keeps.

Of course, these offerings did not come without a price. In spite of the gifts that Arkeville granted in the form of cybernetic enhancements in exchange for money, his subjects' newfound existence as hybrids resulted in the same side effects in which the CIA volunteers suffered from. The only feasible 'measures' that he offered to his clients came in the form of psychotropic drugs and sedatives to ease the pains that gradually developed during the course of their evolution. In reality, those same measures were nothing more than a means to control a pack of wild dogs that were feral and had to be kept on a tight leash.

Thus, he operated an army whose dependence on these substances determined whether they lived or die. They were guerillas, mercenaries, soldiers and terrorists. Individuals whom he deemed expendable in his endless quest for power and personal gain. Since the agency lacked any backbone to grant him further funding and support for his operations, he decided to push his odds further and sought the aid of the Decepticons, who were hidden in the bottom tip of South America.

He offered the Decepticons something they couldn't refuse: the location of the ancient Golden Disk which was held in a secure Autobot facility within the Arctic. In return, they granted him the tools and resources necessary to allow him to further his research in cybernetics. While they could have easily eliminated him from existence, they figured that since he contributed to their escape and infiltration into the Britannian Empire they would make use of him and play on his desire for vengeance. Arkeville 'swore' his loyalty to the Decepticons. Of course, that loyalty only showed on the surface. His personal agenda took precedence over whatever schemes that Starscream and Megatron had in store for the future.

"With the Americans and the Autobots here, it looks like there's going to be trouble," the former CIA cybernetics chief said.

"Their real welcome is long overdue. Perhaps it would be best if we send the troopers and give them a proper greeting," Starscream grinned, blue plated fists clutched together.

"The troopers? At this stage?" Arkeville said with a furrowed brow.

"Yes. If the Autobots are here then they will most definitely undo the machinations upon which we've worked very hard to keep secret,” the aerospace commander beamed at his human associate. “And we can't let them spoil our fun now, can we?”

Arkeville's facial lines twisted into a frown. “No, I suppose not.”


---


Government Bureau
Tokyo Settlement, Area 11

Cornelia li Britannia was not pleased with the progress of the search for the vigilante known as Zero. The violet haired princess, nicknamed the 'Witch of Britannia' by her enemies, wanted straight answers. On her left side stood Guilford and Darlton: who supported her in the recent conquest of the Middle Eastern Federation, now called Area 18. When one viewed the princess on the surface she was a warrior, ruthless and deadly. Though members of her inner circle knew she had a soft side as well, where she is renowned to having a doting affection for her younger sister Euphemia. It was something that she never showed publicly.

Daily briefs from her staff were part of her regimen as viceroy when it came to dealing with domestic affairs. Cornelia was never one for formality, always getting right to the point. While she proved her brilliance time and again in the battlefield through her leadership and command abilities, she lacked the strategic prowess that her younger half-brother Lelouch possessed.
In her heart she harbored a deep respect for the lad, who proved more than often that he was too clever for his own good. Then the assassination happened. Memories of the day that Marianne laid slain at the stairway of the Aries imperial villa haunted her thoughts. Even though the empress was originally a commoner, her meteoric rise to the throne shattered the prestige which the aristocrats favored so greatly for centuries. Cornelia grew secret feelings of contempt over the years towards those who constantly disrespected the late consort. Marianne's previous career as a Knightmare pilot brought inspiration among many, including the princess herself.
All the work she spent towards leading the investigation and not a single suspect caught. Cornelia wanted to make up for the loss with the blood of those responsible. She knew that no amount of dead bodies would undo the death of Lady Marianne and her two children. Her train of thought was interrupted when Darlton began the briefing in earnest.

"Viceroy, we've obtained intelligence of strange sightings out near the Shinjuku ghetto. Word is that they're Knightmare Frames of unknown configuration."

The square-jawed general handed a manilla folder with documentation of reports and digital photographs downloaded from the imperium's spy satellites and Knightmare Frames that engaged these unknown mecha in combat. His lips held a thin line as he listened to the princess' reaction in light of this new information.

"Unknown configuration? Any chance of determining of what their affiliation may be?" Cornelia questioned as she studied the photographs. Their outward appearance was strange. In one of the photographs she observed a red facial decal on one of the supposed 'Knightmare Frames'. Surprisingly it was humanoid in appearance, its external layer bore pale white armor with marks in-between, and a '4' symbol on its chest. From what she saw, there was no visible cockpit. If there was one, it was integrated somewhere inside its torso.
"From what we've collected so far, we suspect them to be of E.U. origin. And if they are, they're ones that we have never seen before in our lives," Darlton offered.

"This machine looks very strange. Is it possible that they belong to other terrorist groups operating within Area 11?" Cornelia inquired.

Guilford stepped up and adjusted his glasses. "Not that we're aware of, Your Highness. Given what we presently know, perhaps it would be best if we asked those who participated in the battle in Shinjuku."

"I'm inclined to agree. Bring Gottwald and his subordinates in here," the viceroy ordered.

"At once, Your Highness," Guilford replied.


---


Through the doors of the chamber adjacent to the conference room came the members of the Pureblood faction: Jeremiah Gottwald, Viletta Nu, and Kewell Soresi. The three pilots suspected that whatever was in store for them within that room clearly wasn't good. Based on what they've knew about Cornelia, she was not the kind of person to brook failure from those under her command.

The guards that held their lances in place raised them to allow the trio to pass as they advanced forward. Inside the vast chamber awaited a group of ministers and officials responsible for the governorship of Area 11. Cornelia was seated at the far end of the U-shaped table, her posture firm but relaxed as she adjusted her uniform.

"You summoned us, Your Highness?" Jeremiah asked, trying to remain some semblance of dignity in the face of what was to come. He, along with his two cohorts, bowed their heads in respect to the second daughter of the imperial family.

"I did. Do you know why you're here?" the princess queried, her visage lacking a display of any form of emotion, but instead tried to gauge of what the former acting consul's responses would be based on his expressions and body language. Even though his head was lowered, he could see that her eyes remained observant and hawk-like. He felt that they were like twin daggers ready to stab through him any instant. "I am not certain, princess."

"You suspected that I would still kill you for your failure to execute Suzaku and capture Zero? I am beyond that point of pettiness. While I am not one to tolerate incompetence, I am not totally unforgiving. It would appear that fate has dealt us an unexpected hand. Henceforth, I am giving you three an opportunity to reclaim your honor."

Cornelia's statement drew a mixture of surprise and relief for the three loyalists. She gestured them to take seats and glance at the information which she studied closely through the computer displays placed in front of each seat of the conference table. "I want you to take a look at the photographs closely. Do you recognize it?"

The aquamarine haired pilot shook his head at the pictorial display. Villetta was quick to do the same, before all eyes focused on Kewell. He scratched his right temple as he looked closer and snapped his fingers when the memory of the encounter surfaced.

"Well?" Cornelia asked.

"One of the other pilots that fought during the battle sighted this mech. He reported that it also possessed transformation capability," Kewell recalled.

"So I've been told," the princess said frankly with curious eyes. She felt she was talking to a man who came out of the psychiatric ward.

"Yes, Your Highness,” the blond Pureblood replied.

“Why was I not informed of this prior to my arrival?”

“Viceroy, most of our efforts were concentrated on stopping the terrorist cell that managed to eliminate many of our number and kill Prince Clovis. We never had any time to conduct a proper investigation when the withdrawal order came through. The pilot did confirm that these mecha had the ability to transform based on the recordings fed through his factsphere," Kewell said.

“Do the recordings still exist?”

“I'm afraid not, Your Highness. The pilot that contacted me died before he could transmit anything. And his mech was destroyed in the battle,” Kewell added, wary of what her next reply would be.

“That is not an excuse!” Cornelia roared, her palms slammed on the surface of the table. All of the officials save for Darlton and Guilford cowed at her immense display of rage. It was ingrained within their minds that it would be wise to never incur the wrath of the princess. To do anything as such would be akin to asking for a death sentence. “Regardless of how trivial the situation appeared to be, I still should've been told about it! Not a single soul mentioned of this. I will not tolerate the presence of unknown forces, let alone in a territory under my jurisdiction!”

The three waited a moment as the second princess regained her composure.

"I'm sorry, the death of Clovis is starting to get to me. Here is your mission: you'll be joining two companies of Knightmares commanded by Lord Jacoby as advisors to Shinjuku and ascertain the possible presence of other terrorist groups operating in Area 11. Should you happen to encounter any hostility from the locals, you may eliminate them and whatever terrorists are being harbored within the ghetto," Cornelia commanded. “If possible, capture any survivors.”

Viletta, Jeremiah, and Kewell rose in unison. "Yes, Your Highness!"


---


Omotesando Mall
Tokyo Settlement, Area 11

Spike, Marissa and the twins stayed in close proximity of each other through the mall in the Tokyo concession area. The two senior human agents conferred with Prowl and suggested that a lease be secured within the premises of the city where resources were readily accessible. In their minds, they needed to expand closer to the capital so that they could gather more intelligence. What other way than to secure a contract for an empty building and set up shop on the outer premises of the capital as a private business firm?

Once their transactions with the group responsible for the management of the property concluded, they decided to explore the mall. The four were lifted through the escalator to the upper promenade of the complex, amazed at its sheer size and the liveliness of the hundreds of shoppers that roamed throughout the numerous floors.

One restaurant caught Marissa's eye as she signalled Spike and the Lambo siblings to follow her. The SEAL raised a brow at the name of the restaurant in question: 'Beacon'. He tilted his head towards the establishment and proceeded inside along with his three comrades. The aroma of steaks and other dishes in the works caught his nose by surprise. Wondrous smells filled the air as the cooks fervently worked to feed the many customers that were packed inside the restaurant.

It's amazing how our realities parallel each other in so many ways... Spike thought quietly.

Upon their entry, the four-person group spotted Jazz and Chip as they engorged themselves in whatever the restaurant had to offer. Spike and Marissa eyed that Chip had a plate with a slice of finely cooked steak, doused with pepper, green beans and mashed potatoes on the side. 'Jerome' chanced upon the unfamiliar realm of culinary delights and decided to try out some of the restaurant's seafood. The four new arrivals were quick to make their orders, and Spike was in a mood for some afternoon steak. It gave leeway for the team to get down right to business as they eased themselves into the steakhouse's atmosphere.

"How'd the lease go?" Jazz began, arms stretched across the seat.
A smile formed on the edge of Marissa's lips. "Well, we managed to get some space that occupies a couple of blocks within the city, so we got operating room there. Prowl sent word that there's a shipment of several million pounds en route from our Earth to supplement what we've procured courtesy of the British government. That should help handle whatever expenses we come across. We were lucky to get any space at all within a hundred miles, since the previous business decided to move elsewhere and expand."

"What was it? Chip asked.

"A machine parts factory with a beauty salon next door," replied Marissa, whose face changed into a puppy-like expression with her cheeks puffed. The group further engaged in social gossip while they waited for their meals to arrive. Ever since Sunstreaker and Sideswipe received their biological disguises, they slowly studied and imitated the nuances of human culture. The three real humans around the table complimented the siblings on taking the next step towards living the way Earthlings did. Soon afterwards the issue of Thomas Arkeville surfaced. All faces turned toward the NSA's chief liaison and silently wondered what his relation was in regards to the former CIA official.

"So how much do you know about this Arkeville guy, Spike?" the red twin asked, his chin rested on his hands atop the smooth surface of the table.

"Quite a bit, actually. When I was working field ops in the CIA, he headed the cybernetics bureau. To be honest, I thought he was something of a pompous asshole, but he is extremely well-versed in bio-mechanical engineering. Though he wasn't liked much by the higher-ups since they considered him as something of a maverick. Kinda shares the same stuck-up superiority complex that Mirage has, if you know what I mean.

“After a little bit of persuasion the director gave Arkeville the go-ahead for the funding of Operation SAW. The goal of the project was to create a group of cybernetically enhanced field agents and test their effectiveness in practical applications during covert operations.”

“SAW?” Marissa asked quizzically.

“Specialized asymmetric warfare. Basically the evolution of black ops and covert ops to the point where the mission participants are selected and trained to become super soldiers, and take on tasks where even special forces units can only go so far.

“Once the program itself went full throttle, six volunteers underwent surgery to have implants directly into their bodies. Afterwards, they conducted numerous tests through different exercise regimens and actual ops in the field. That's where I was tapped by Arkeville, since he was familiar with my rep and wanted me to tag alongside the group as an advisor and observer. I worked with his guys on a few missions in Europe and Columbia when they were called up for several jobs that required a certain level of... craftiness. From what I've seen, all of them were exceptionally well-trained, and completed their tasks with a high margin of success. That was... until this one mission in Shanghai..." Spike broke with a pause, his face sullen at the memory of the six agents that he worked with before they died.

“What?” Jazz queried, the Autobot spec ops lieutenant became concerned at the SEAL's expression.

“Certain... complications came up that we did not foresee. Apparently there were some side-effects associated with the implants when they were installed. Autopsy reports indicated that after inspecting each of the bodies the implants gradually damaged their cognitive and biological functions of each of the operatives because they were embedded too far into their genetic structure. Two of them committed suicide, the others eventually broke down and went insane,” Spike concluded. “Thus it gave the agency no other choice but to terminate the project.”

“Looks like your orders are coming,” Chip observed from the distance, as two waiters skillfully carried trays of food, placing them with care onto their table. Spike waited a moment until the pair gave them their plates and departed from the team's table.

Marissa soon brought the conversation back up. “What happened to the other four?”

“I had to take 'em out before they killed anyone else. After the incident, all records associated with Operation SAW were sealed in Langley. And things went downhill from there. Arkeville got fired, and the project was never touched again. Though I heard that unofficially he used illegal components in his development process,” Spike finished before he took another bite from his steak. The soft texture of the meat temporarily eased his conscious.
“Funny. Now I'm curious as to how and why he's over in this dimension now. It's safe to assume this dude's got help from the outside,” Jazz asked.
“Which leads us to our next point of discussion,” the SEAL said as he pulled his PDA and sifted through a few pictures of researchers and businessmen tied to Lukas International. He placed the device on the table so everyone else could glance at it.

“Joseph Fenette. Business prospector and public official, age 45. Handles Area 11's economic sector in the extraction and distribution of sakuradite. Previous occupation was management of a mining company called Geoscape. The records here show that Arkeville's tied to him as well. It also says that Joe's one of the closest associates to Lukas International since he was responsible for the purchasing and requisitions of some of the mining vehicles that was developed by that institute several years back,” Spike said. “And since Joe is a mining prospector, it would give us another lead to start with. We'll need to take a visit down to Mr. Fenette's office and check on the people who work under him to see if we can fish anything out in regards to Arkeville.”


---


Several stores away from 'Beacon', Shirley sorted through the lines of dresses that were displayed in the middle of the boutique store. Milly and Nina were only a few feet away, preparing for the upcoming Sunday trip to the Lake Kawaguchi convention hotel for a tour of the historic site. Classical music played in the background as the girls preoccupied themselves. It was at that moment that Shirley spotted a lime green strapped blouse that she thought would be perfect for the occasion. She remained unwary as Milly snuck behind her younger friend to glance at the blouse that the latter was intent on buying.

“Say, madam president, how would I look in this one?” Shirley asked innocently.

“It looks fabulous on you, Shirley!” exclaimed Milly. “And I think it's appealing enough to catch Lelouch's eye, wouldn't you agree?” the blonde ex-noble teased.

Shirley considered the thought for a moment. In truth she had difficulty in getting the student vice president's attention. His secretive charisma didn't help matters much either. Hence, she could only pray that Lelouch would come along on the trip to tell how she felt about him, after that fateful day where she spotted him in distance during a traffic accident downtown in their first year together at Ashford Academy.

“I'll buy it!”


---


As soon as the six members of the Autobot/human expedition left the Beacon, Sideswipe stood for a moment as he glanced at his jacket before he spotted a trio of human girls sauntering towards the group's direction. Each ferried in their hands shopping bags collected from the stores that they visited throughout the mall. He eyed the three carefully as one of the girls' high heels stuck into a tile, prompting the red twin to prop her with one of his arms as he steadied the young lass back on her feet.

“Easy there, now.”

“Whoops, sorry about that,” the auburn-haired girl said, modest in her expression.

“It's okay,” Sideswipe replied generously. “Need a hand, miss?”

“No, but thank you.”

When the girl recovered herself, she moved onwards alongside a slightly taller blond woman and a petite girl who had glasses framed on her face. Sideswipe surmised the three women to be students. Though he would never realize that he just crossed paths with the daughter of their
quarry.


---


Lukas International Experimental Facility
Tokyo Settlement, Area 11

Inside the hanger bay of the Lukas test site, a group of six dark blue mechanoids were positioned against the wall. Massive cables protruded throughout their bodies where sakuradite fed into the veins of their internal circuitry and reconverted it into usable energon. While each were slightly different in appearance, their external frames shared the same basic construction. Only one had a cone-like helm while the others had black helms similar to Starscream's.

They are the remnants of the Aerospace Extermination Squadron, a Seeker clone army developed solely to assist in the military expansion of the Decepticon Empire. Even one of them were enough to lay waste to an entire Autobot infantry squad, with numerous armaments hidden within concealed compartments of their exoskeletal frames. One could only imagine how many of them could lay waste to entire planets.

Arkeville stood in front of the unpowered bots with arms crossed. His eyes studied the entities before him. They were powerful weapons by their own right, but lacked sentience. The former CIA cybernetics chief never thought that the AES troopers would have to be deployed so soon.

“And I had such grand plans for you...”

Overhead, the ceiling doors which kept the laboratory hidden separated. In just one click of a remote, what was once six lifeless beings soon came to life. Supercharged backpack engines flared up and launched their bodies skyward. Smoke trails billowed behind the drones as they they flew out to Shinjuku with one mission: to seek out and terminate the Autobot forces hidden in the ghetto.

End of Chapter 4