Kallen's Loyalty

                                                             Kallen's Loyalty

        First they soften you up. She had been alone in the cell for some 52 hours. There was a faucet for water, though no food, and while she was ravenously hungry, she felt the bite of sensory deprivation was worse on her. The cell was pitch-dark, and the sensory deprivation was beginning to get to her. She could talk to herself, of course, or run the drinking water, but the former would contribute to her enemies' cause by further fraying her sanity and the latter would increase her to the unsettling coldness of the water. She knew full well what her captors were trying to do to her, and therefore what she could expect. Or perhaps she could expect nothing, perhaps they were going to let her slowly starve to death, or collapse into an insane, paranoid wreck, to serve as an example to other captives. No, I'm more valuable than for them to just use me as an example to others. Or at least they won't use me up as an example before interrogating me. She was not sure if that was a comforting thought.
        Kallen Kozuki, also known as Kallen Stadtfeld, had been captured. It had been a routine raid, one of many that Kallen had been on despite her youth, but fate had not been with them, and Kallen had been forced to give herself up to guarantee the escape of her comrades. She felt it especially unfortunate, because Zero had only recently appeared, his brilliant tactics giving new hope to the Japanese Resistance. Then again, this misfortune had likely been brought on by Zero's appearance in the first place. The Japanese Resistance had stepped up their game, so the Britannian Empire was taking their counterinsurgency efforts to the next level. Kallen knew things had to get worse before they got better, and was, to a point, proud that she had been able to contribute thus far, but all the same, this sensory deprivation was beginning to get to her.
        Her captors came for her after hour 53 (which she only knew from them telling her, lacking any means of keeping track of time in that dark hole); two Britannian soldiers who wore normal uniforms, but wore helmets with visors in an effort to make them look less human, more intimidating for treacherous POWs like her. Kallen still had the wherewithal to be able to stare back at them defiantly, letting them know that she still knew they were human, and therefore just as breakable as she was, though she certainly appeared far more vulnerable than they at this point.
        Kallen was younger than either of the soldiers, though probably not by too many years. She was, after all, still a high-school student, slim and quite feminine in her body shape, making her distinctly smaller than her captors, full-grown male soldiers of stern build, but the vulnerability extended further than that. Kallen was near-nude, wearing only a no-frills bra, panties, and socks of the type that was her normal underwear for her combat suit. She had been left with her hair-band as well, holding her hair up in the more distinctive shape she used to reveal her fierce, Japanese Resistance identity.  The high-school girl seemed smaller still without her normal clothing, and the femininity of her body shape was made all the more apparent in her attire, the slim bra supporting her well-apportioned breasts beautifully, with her panties and socks leaving little of her body to the imagination.
        The soldiers marched Kallen through rows of prison cells, making their way out of the block. Kallen kept her head straight, but her eyes roamed as quickly as they could, searching for any information that might be useful later, though there was little to be had.
        The guards ushered Kallen into an elevator, bringing her up a few floors, and then she found something interesting. The elevator opened out to a small, dim-lit anteroom, and after one of the soldiers quickly (and hidden from Kallen's view) punched in a code near a second, armored door, the three stepped through into a large, brightly-lit, lavishly-decorated room, though before Kallen could get her bearings she was thrust forward roughly and, as soon as she was even able to turn her head around, she saw the two soldiers step behind the metal door as it closed.
        Kallen turned her head rapidly again as she heard a voice behind her. "Ah, I apologize for my tardiness." It was a woman's voice, haughty and refined, a voice Kallen knew, attached to a face and a person she knew as an enemy: Cornelia li Britannia, one of the Princesses of the realm that sought to consume the globe and eradicate, among other things, the Japanese culture, her Japanese culture. Cornelia was clad elegantly, but not severely so, wearing a slim periwinkle evening gown that was trimmed with gold in places, giving her a regal grace but not slowing down her movement. The light-blue tone of her dress matched her flowing, lavender hair well. Kallen immediately knew her because she had studied what information was available on the royal family beyond the propaganda constantly dispersed by Britannian authorities.
        To say that Kallen was vexed by Cornelia's sudden appearance would have been a vast understatement. There were many problems with what was going on: why was a Princess going to serve as the primary interrogator for a Resistance leader, even if she was one of the more prominent figures in the Japanese Resistance (up until Zero's sudden appearance, at least)? Why was a Princess here, in this complex, apparently unarmed and without bodyguards with a confirmed threat to national security? Further still, why was she being let loose with someone like Kallen in a room like this? The lavishly-adorned room looked like a banquet hall, with two places set for a meal, including bits of silverware that she could definitely use as weapons, with a confirmed revolutionary alone in a room with one of the foremost daughters of the Empire.
        "Don't just stand there," Cornelia said, her voice now less haughty and more courteous as she shattered Kallen's pondering, "you don't look fit for a semi-formal dinner, go get changed."
        Kallen only grew more puzzled. "What?" she said aloud. "What kind of trick are you playing?" she barked crossly.
        "No trick," Cornelia replied, looking at Kallen pointedly. "There is a dress for you over there," she said, indicating a hangar that was itself suspended by a peg on the wall. From it hung a slim red dress, similar in design to Cornelia's. The direct glare from Cornelia's eyes seemed to leave no room for argument on the matter, and before she knew it Kallen had donned the dress that had been offered to her.
        "So why do I have to wear this thing?" Kallen asked defiantly. "Some sort of formal dinner?"
        "Semi-formal, dear," Cornelia said. "I should know, much greater pomp and pageantry than this goes into a proper formal dinner."
        "Don't piss around with semantics," Kallen fired back. "Answer the question."
        "My, we are quite rude," Cornelia replied, the edge of haughtiness leeching back into her voice as she moved towards one of the two places arrayed on opposite ends of the table. "Sit down, Kallen Stadtfeld, and dine with your Princess." Again Cornelia looked directly into Kallen's eyes, though this time Kallen noted something amiss; a flicker of movement that could be seen within the eyes of her foe and host.
        She could not bring herself to verbally acknowledge the oddity she had seen, however, and instead acquiesced to Cornelia's simple request, drawing up a place for herself at the dining room table. "So if you know my name you'll know what I prefer to be called," Kallen said. "My name is Kallen Kozuki, Japanese patriot."
        "And I am Cornelia li Britannia," the princess replied as she too sat down. "I don't appreciate it when one of our subjects refuses her heritage."
        "There's no heritage to refuse," Kallen said, her words dripping with rancor. "Britannian history is little more than-"
        "Silence," Cornelia said harshly, again fixing Kallen with a stare, a ripple of her power. "We can discuss the finer points of culture and heritage after we order our meals," she continued, her voice growing more neutral after her slight outburst of wrath. Summoned by no visible signal, a waiter emerged and took their orders. Kallen, remaining under the influence of Cornelia's power for the moment, chose stuffed pheasant, a staple of upper-class Britannians, while Cornelia herself elected for the beef wellington.
        She's responding well, Cornelia thought as she observed Kallen place her dinner order as if it were the most natural thing in the world. But I must be careful to keep the conversation under control.
        Cornelia still knew little about her power, this notion of Geass very recently revealed to her by the Emperor and bestowed upon her by the Emperor's strange, stunted brother VV. These occult powers, granted by apparent immortals, were apparently quite potent, and from the few tests she had conducted (or that had been conducted on her), Cornelia had verified that potency to a certain extent. Her power came from her eyes, requiring eye contact with an individual, allowing her to reach into the minds of others and influence them. It was not a powerful influence, at least not at first. She could not, for instance, bind an individual to do her bidding all in an instant, for "command" was not the root of her ability, and that was why she still had to be careful.
        Cornelia's power was instead based upon, in a broad sense, pride. The ability of her Geass was to reach inside the hearts of others and swell their pride in the direction she desired. This included pride in small things, like pride in one's appearance or manners, but pride was a powerful emotion when toyed with.
        "So," Cornelia began after finishing a mouthful of food and wiping her face clean, "what did you say was your problem with your Britannian heritage?"
        "That there is no Britannian heritage," Kallen said spitefully. "The whole heritage amounts to violence and oppression. It is the culture of violence that all humans share embodied in a political entity; nothing special and nothing to be proud of."
        "And yet you clearly pride yourself on your Japanese heritage," Cornelia said, "but how is that any different? You're aware, of course, of how Japan used its monopoly on Sakuradite to manipulate and oppress other nations before the Britannian invasion."
        "Don't try to trick me," Kallen said. "We may not have been completely innocent, but we did nothing to deserve being conquered, to deserve your efforts at destroying our way of life."
        "And what is this "way of life?" Cornelia returned mockingly. "A different language, different stories you tell, different ways you dress? If Japan is not innocent, as you admit, then where does this sense of cultural superiority come from?"
        "From the fact that we deserve freedom, and you took it away from us!" Kallen now shouted. The normally-fiery young woman was, aside from her shouting, still keeping herself quite composed, and was not even considering using the knife in her hand to attack the princess of her enemies sitting across from her. Pride in her ability to conduct herself properly restrained her.
        Now Cornelia laughed, cold and mocking. "No one deserves freedom, child. You yourself are proof of that." She pointed towards Kallen, sure to catch her gaze, and then let her power flow. "You have to fight for freedom, battle for the right for self-determination! The strong take their freedom for themselves, just as you and the Japanese Resistance are trying to do."
        That's true, Kallen thought. I'm strong. We're strong, and we'll use that strength to gain our freedom. Kallen felt part of the truth in her words, pride in her skills as a resistance fighter, in the thrill of being able to change the world through her own strength and martial prowess. The surging pride within her spread a certain warmth through her, as if she were getting intoxicated or turned on by her own sense of self-esteem, and this intoxication helped to dull her suspicions, especially her suspicions about the odd colors and shapes she thought she was seeing in Cornelia's eyes.
        "You're right," Kallen said eventually. "We have the strength to beat you, and that's why we deserve freedom!"
        "But do you really?" Cornelia said, the calm of her voice belying her anxiety at this juncture. The conversation could easily get out of hand at this moment, and Kallen, filled with a zealous Japanese patriotism, might attack her, spoiling Cornelia's plans for the girl. "If the strong deserve freedom, why should you fight for the weak? Why should you serve Japan, a nation that failed the test of strength before the might of the Britannian Empire?" At the end of each question her eyes flickered, exuding more of her power.
        "Because they are my people," Kallen said quickly, but she felt odd saying it. Were they really her people, the destitute masses in the ghettos set aside for Elevens? How exactly was she like them, again?
        "By blood," Cornelia responded, "and even then only partially." She had noticed the doubt that seemed to be growing in Kallen, and knew that her powers were putting her on the right track. "That is why I asked why you were neglecting your Britannian heritage, you act far more Britannian than you do Japanese."
         "I'm nothing like you!" Kallen seethed, realizing she had been caught in a trap. But again, images of the pathetic Elevens living in the ghettos swarmed in her mind, while her conscious vision remained fixed upon the woman she claimed was her enemy. Both of them, warriors by occupation, sat here in the lap of luxury due to Britannian blood and their mutual martial prowess. She could see more of herself in Cornelia than she could in some ragged street urchin from the Eleven ghettos. She could see much of herself in that woman; strong, commanding, unyielding, with a talent for combat and a drive to overcome anything that stood in her way, why was she her enemy?
        It's obvious, Kallen thought to herself, trying to shake the fast-growing doubts from her mind. She's on the wrong side. She's using those talents to do bad things, to make people's lives worse..
        "You are very much like me," Cornelia said, as if she could read Kallen's thoughts (though she could not, as her Geass did not grant her that capacity). "People like you are the pride of Britannia, men and women with both passion and combat skill have shaped our Empire into the unstoppable force that it is today!" Cornelia's eyes flared with her Geass power, now hoping to drive the point home solidly. She had planted the seeds of doubt, observed them beginning to grow, and now would speed their maturation.
        "Your Britannian heritage has made you who you are, Kallen Stadtfeld! Treasure it, honor it! Give respect to Britannia, who welcomes her powerful, successful children with open arms! Pledge your loyalty to her, to us!"
        The sudden storm of Geass power was at once empowering and overwhelming for Kallen, already lost in a sea of doubt. It empowered her because it gave her more of that heady feeling, that potent intoxication that came with the feeling of intense self-satisfaction from the pride that now soared in her breast. It overwhelmed her because it threatened to sweep her away, to cause her to lose all allegiance and loyalty to the Japanese Resistance movement to which she had once pledged her heart and soul. She was strong and she was able, and she deserved to stand in the company of the strong and the able, the company of Britannian leadership who proved their superiority to the world with their strength. She could rise above the groveling masses that were all that remained of any sort of Japanese heritage, she could join the side of victory.
        Lingering doubts, composed of a few strands of rational thinking, managed to keep Kallen grounded, if only for the moment. "But isn't it only chance that separates the able from the disabled and the strong from the weak?" she asked thickly, in a great effort to undermine the pride being swollen by Cornelia's power. "Shouldn't the strong sympathize with the unfortunate and try to help them?"
        Cornelia laughed softly, amused and a little impressed by the tremendous show of mental strength that the young Resistance fighter was showing. Cornelia was employing devices more subtle and compelling than the most barbaric tortures. This girl is absolutely perfect, she thought. Britannia must have her. I must have her. "Not at all," she said after a pause. "The strong are a people apart, bound and determined to overcome all adversity. Look at yourself; you were born with a mother from a losing race, a race of weakness, and despite your half-blood you have come to stand at the very pinnacle of Japanese strength. The ragtag Japanese Resistance is the best your land can put forth, and you have conquered it in your leadership. But you are better than that, you are Britannian and you naturally want more for yourself. I offer it to you. Join us, join your motherland, join the Britannian cause!"
        Again shape and color flared in Cornelia's eyes, transfixing the young half-blooded Britannian as their gaze penetrated her mind, reshaping it towards Cornelia's desires. Britannian patriotism, an emotion that Kallen had thought she lacked utterly, now stood as the dominant force in her mind. Love for Britannia swept away doubts about the ethics of the Empire, swept away her attachment to the pitiful Japanese people who had fallen before Britannian might, swept away the identity of Kallen Kozuki, an assumed identity and not her true name.
        Kallen Kozuki was dead, and Kallen Stadtfeld, proud and eager young citizen of the Britannian Empire, looked with love and admiration at her Princess.
        Cornelia li Britannia smiled broadly and imperiously, seeing the change suddenly come over Kallen. "So?" she said in a voice that was now softer. "Who do you wish to serve?"
        "My only wish is to serve Britannia," Kallen said. Her voice too was softer, but there was a good deal of passion behind her words.
        "And you shall be quite welcome among us, Kallen Stadtfeld," Cornelia said. "Now come, we must get you a uniform."
        "Yes, your majesty," Kallen said. With that, the two women stood from the dining room table, a setting more effective at subverting loyalty than the most well-equipped torture chamber, and departed through a different door than the one through which Kallen had initially been thrust.

***

        The halls of the Area Eleven Army Headquarters were bright and clean, combining the attention to neatness favored by the low-wage Eleven janitorial staff with the Britannian demand for perfection in all military matters. The halls had to be spotless, for of late they had been consistently blessed by the presence of Cornelia li Britannia, striding around in her regal-yet-sensible uniform, one that denoted her status as one of the highest-ranking women on the planet, and yet was not impractical for someone who knew how to fight. An even more recent development, however, had been the appearance of a perpetual tagalong for Cornelia, a devoted personal combat assistant with an odd hairstyle, remnants of a wilder, rebellious youth. The assistant's wild hairstyle belied the absolute loyalty and reverence with which she regarded the older woman, her Princess. She was dressed neatly, in a uniform similar to Cornelia's but lacking some of the finer points indicative of royalty.
        Cornelia strode into the command deck, passing the various support personnel who were saluting smartly without acknowledging them, with Kallen at her heels as always. Cornelia passed into the Command Chamber, a space reserved for the base's commander to take absolute control of operations without being disturbed. It was a significant event, because it was the first time Cornelia was allowing Kallen Stadtfeld, her new subordinate, to come in with her. It was a show of her faith and trust in Kallen, who had proved unerringly loyal since her defection to the Britannian military a few months before. Kallen was indeed a clever and able combatant, and had been a great help to Britannian operations thus far.
        "Look, Kallen," Cornelia said, "for it is from here that I shall complete the annihilation of the Japanese Resistance and secure this new frontier of the Britannian Empire."
        "It will be a privilege to observe it, your majesty," Kallen said, bowing.
        "Indeed it will," Cornelia said, then she turned on the computer console in the chamber.
        The sounds of the computer firing up were supplemented by another sound, the sound of a gun being cocked immediately behind Cornelia's neck. The experienced fighter knew better than to move.
        "Sorry Cornelia, but you lose," Kallen said, but in a voice that Cornelia was entirely unfamiliar with.
        "But how did you resist?!?" Cornelia shouted even as she remained perfectly still, fuming that her Geass had somehow failed her.
        Kallen did not respond to her request, but somewhere out there, another Geass user was gloating.
        Loyalty is a potent thing, dear sister, but it is worthless next to the pure power of Command.

End.