SHIN KIDOU SENKI GUNDAM WING

SAINAN NO KEKKA
ACT X, PART I

 
 
Scene I: The Daughter of China

 
It wasn't where she wanted to be, but somehow she had expected it.

Sally Po had known what things would most likely come to when she had started down this path. Still, that didn't mean she had to like it.

That was one thing her mother had always told her, "You can dream many dreams on a long night, Sally," she had whispered, quoting a famous proverb. Sally had thought of that often, whenever times got tough. She had never been particularly close to her parents, but that was one thing she had been grateful to them for - perhaps the only thing.

When she was little, she hadn't been quite sure what the proverb meant. Her parents had been fond of throwing them out, and on the surface, it was simple. Most Chinese proverbs were; they were a bit of common wisdom that was always true. Look beneath them, though, and the true depth of their meaning became apparent. She had spent many late nights awake, dreaming of things that were possible, and now was facing the true long night of her life.

She was Chinese, and her parents had at least given her the chance to be Chinese. She pitied those who didn't know their cultures.

It disgusted her, nowadays. People had no idea who or what they were, and the way things were going, that trend would continue until the world had assimilated everyone into one Unitarian society where everyone walked, talked, and thought alike. She hated the very thought of it. Identity was important to her. She believed in individuality, and after being a member of the Federation, she had seen how people had conformed to the standards the mainstream culture had placed on them.

The knowledge that, as a soldier in the Federation army, she was one of the oppressors, had revolted her. When the Gundams had come and destroyed her government, she had eagerly joined the Chinese rebellion, hoping that something better could be formed.

Something that allowed her to be Chinese... but in the end, there was a return to the status quo. Une had meant well, and Sally liked how she was earnest, but Une held no real power. Une was a ghost, a woman who wasn't truly alive. Without Treize, Une was nothing. Sally thought things might have been different if the pilots hadn't vanished. They understood national pride... and Wufei understood China.

With a sigh, Sally leaned back in the shuttle seat, stealing a glance at the man who sat in her co-pilots' chair, Pierre Gils-Reve. He had left Bern and immediately raced to Geneva before Sally had even gotten out of the city to be beside her. According to Li, his cover was still sound, but he had insisted on coming with her when he had learned that her safety was on the verge of being compromised. He was fiercely loyal to her and her cause from the very beginning. She thought he had a little bit of a crush on her, and regretted that. Hormones had no place where they were going.

"How much longer to the rendezvous point?" she asked, even though she knew. The oppressive silence was beginning to get to her.

"Thirteen minutes, General," Gils-Reve said, his voice steady, even though his hands had shaken as they had initiated the launch two days prior. Since then, they had been moving around quite a bit to avoid capture, and Sally had been silently weaving her net closed, stealing what supplies she could. She only had subverted less than a sixth of the Preventers, but those she had turned, she had placed well. Her strike forces had already launched a few raids on a few of the more remote military targets, and she knew that within two days, she would be ready to launch an all-out assault. She had to move quickly, for Brown would be moving to block her and change everything. Li still hadn't been discovered, but it was only a matter of time.

Still, she had a prize that would tip the scales a little more in her favor. She looked out the window, wondering how much longer it would be before she would see it. "Has radio silence been maintained?" she asked.

"Yes," Gils-Reve answered. "There's been two fly-overs by Preventer operatives, but they haven't spotted us. It's your home ground, so I'm not surprised."

"Neither am I." Sally glanced at her watch. Two more minutes.

Those minutes normally would have dragged on, but since there was no flight crew aside from herself and Gils-Reve and he had been trained to fly combat suits instead of shuttles, she was the one who started the landing procedures. Even though she was no longer part of an official military order, she followed the steps to the letter. Discipline was important, and skipping steps was a bad idea. When order broke down, chaos reigned; and when chaos reigned, entire countries fell apart.

That would be one of her key strategies in attacking the World Nation- not the only one, but one of the keys.

By the time the plane landed with a slight jolt, she knew enough time had passed that if there were no problems, the people she should be meeting were there. "Are they here?" she asked as she shut down all the power systems to the shuttle. It would take time to restart them, but the Preventer agents would be looking for unexpected energy signals. She was the most wanted traitor on the planet, and they were expecting her to come to China. She had understood that, but China was home.

Gils-Reve nodded. "Before you shut down my proximity scanners, I detected them." His eyes glowed.

She nodded. "We'll have to manually lower the hatch."

The two rebels went to the door and hit the cranks, pushing the door down. Sally hit it with her shoulder when it got stuck, and almost fell through when it suddenly gave. It was only Gils-Reve's quick hands catching her waist that preventing her from taking a header onto the ground eight feet below.

His hands were warm, and she nodded her thanks. "Good reflexes," she said, and waited for him to release her.

He seemed dazed, and was wearing a slight blush, and she upgraded her prior opinion of his crush to puppy love with an internal groan. He finally let her go after a few moments too long, and she moved out of his range as quietly as socially acceptable. Looking down, she judged the distance safe enough to jump. She was too impatience to wait to push the stairs down.

When Sally landed, it jarred her teeth. She looked up to where Gils-Reve was still standing. "Coming, Gils-Reve?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am!" he said, grabbing the edge and swinging down. He landed gracefully besides her, and she wondered how he made it look so effortless.

"It's not ma'am anymore. Call me Po or General." Her eyes flashed, and she looked down at her clothes, once again camouflage gear. The first thing she had done when she had found a spare moment was to discard the hated uniform. Clothes made the person and shaped the way people acted.

As did names.

She could see the realization of what she meant flicker in Gils-Reve's green eyes, reflecting a variety of emotions too quietly for her to follow before he clenched his jaw with determination. "Yes, General."

Together they ducked under the belly of the craft, coming out from under the other side. She heard Gils-Reve take in a sudden breath of appreciation and couldn't keep from smiling. "This the first time you ever seen a Gundam?" she asked with amusement, even though the marvelous machine still took her breath away.

Before them stood the brilliantly colored Gundam Heavyarms.

She smiled up at one of her friends who had swiped it from right under Brown's nose. "Hey, Riley! How's the machine check out?" she demanded, shading her eyes from the late day sunlight's reflection of the glistening machine. She made a mental note to get it hidden as soon as possible, but for a moment, they could savor their small victory.

"It's as good as when the day it was built!" Riley shot back, perched proudly on the machine's shoulder. The old man reminded her of Howard, and she wished she knew how to contact the Sweeper. He'd be a useful contact, provided he saw things her way. It was strange that he had such morals- most scavengers didn't; but those were what made him Howard, and she really wouldn't change him. She was fighting to give people the choice to be the way they wanted to.

"And the shelter?" she asked, her voice losing its joking tone.

Riley was quiet for a moment before scampering down the silent giant, managing to find impossible handholds. The wiry man came to stand in front of her, taking his time dusting his hands off on his gray coveralls. "We lost one man, and were forced to kill all four people there who weren't with us. After that, I set some explosives, and walked this baby out to the shuttle and took off. We've been jumping all over, and I've swapped shuttles twice. Complete diagnostics were performed on the way, and it's in working order."

Sally walked closer so she could admire the trim. These machines held an elegant beauty, and promised soldiers a chance to dance with death. She had taken care of Heavyarms before, but this time, it was hers... and she would be flying it. The thought thrilled her, secretly. She was a very good pilot and she looked forward to matching her skills against it. It would be like riding a tiger, and not daring to let go.

Gils-Reve stared at Heavyarms in disbelief, seemingly unable to comprehend that their band of nationalists had in their possession one of the five Gundams that had shaped the world. "How- why do we have it?" he asked.

Her smile was mysterious as she touched the metal of the Gundam's leg. "It's about the pilots and who they are... you need to know them. Each Gundam is a part of the pilot, and when the war was over, there was no one to tell those teenagers what to do with them; they had to make their own choices. Heero and Duo hid theirs, and I assume Wufei did the same as well. Quatre had his melted down and used to build an irrigation system," she said, pausing as people winced at the thought of that desecration. "But Trowa...Trowa wasn't a warrior; Trowa was a soldier.

"When the war was over, he did what any good soldier would do and surrendered his weapon to the victor." Her smiled was mocking. "Lady Une had it hidden in a small supply base, manned by ten men, and kept under guard. It was classified Level One, and that was supposed to be the end of it... but it wasn't.

"I knew about it... and I just happened to assign as many of my people as possible there. As soon as it became apparent that I had to leave, I knew I had to tell Riley to let the others know that I needed my... severance bonus." Her eyes traced the machine reverently. "It should come in handy."

Her eyes looked up at the cockpit, and she knew that it was time to do something she'd been waiting to do. "I have to make a call..." she said. "Riley, you and Gils-Reve show the others how to go about setting up a cold camp- we move at before dawn tomorrow."

Riley nodded, and she could see that Gils-Reve barely checked a salute. He was having a hard time deciding which bits of military custom to keep and which to discard. He would learn, Sally knew, but it would take time. She turned her attention back to Heavyarms, and signed. There were no hoists currently attached, and since it was standing, that meant she would just have to climb straight up. She lacked Riley's knack for finding grips, so going up would be a challenge.

It was lucky that she had made a point of putting in an hour of hard training at the gym every day, or else she never would have made it up. The climb was tricky, and once she almost lost her hold. Still, she made it up, and that was what mattered. She took a second to catch her breath before activating the hatch, which slid open smoothly.

The indicator lights flashed as she shut the cockpit door, amazed as always how much it was like stepping into a different world. She ignored the custom harnesses and newswire feed and checked the lights, pleased that all of them were green. Leaning back into the well-padded seat, she took a breath of the filtered air. What had it been like, to sit here during a pivotal battle? What would it be like to know that people spoke of you as though you were the devil incarnate?

Sally would know that feeling very soon, and she wasn't sure if it frightened her or not. Still, she had no time for musing. She needed to contact someone, and had to do it soon, if her time zone calculations were correct. With a slight smile she hit the communications button and hacked into the Preventers' system, glad that Li had kept her password active, despite standard procedures. "Connect me to Chang Wufei's room," she demanded. "Audio and visual feed, and scramble the frequency."

The link surged into being with a speed that made her smile slightly with pleasure. Wufei was a creature of habit, and if she was right, she most likely would be interrupting him during his late evening exercises. He always ran a few forms before going to sleep, and she was hoping it would put him in a thoughtful mood.

And she was right. She saw him poised on one foot, holding the sword parallel to his angled leg, wearing only the white pants of mourning that she had grown accustomed to seeing him in. It was a beautiful thing, to watch his toned body, and even holding the pose, it became apparent that he was truly a master of the art.

Sally was silent for a moment, but that moment was all it took for him to be aware that he was being watched. His dark eyes narrowed and he whirled; his sword swinging up and his elbow bending as his left hand straightened and his feet became ready to launch. His breathing remained calm and balanced, but she saw the slight shock on his face when he noticed her image on the viewer.

"You!" he declared, his voice sounding as though he had just stepped into a pile of something particularly vile.

"Ni hao, Wufei," she replied calmly in Mandarin. "I see you've heard about my... allegiances..." she continued, sticking to the language.

"I heard about your betrayal," he said coldly, replying in the same language, though his colonial accent was slightly more clipped. Wufei sheathed his sword on his hip before moving closer. She could see in his expression what he planned; subtlety was the one thing he had never learned.

"Wufei... you can't trace this," she said lightly. "And rerouting my call will do you no good. Don't you think you should at least here me out?"

"I don't listen to traitors," he said, moving to turn it off.

She had been expecting this. "The death of the heart is the saddest thing that can happen to you," Sally whispered, wondering if her final ploy would work.

"What?" he asked.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eyes, and her smile grew minutely. "For the friendship we share, and for China, will you listen to me?" she asked.

Sally saw the hesitation written in the tension of his body, but she knew that she had him hooked. She had seen this before many times. "I... I will listen to you, woman. And then I'm reporting every word you say directly to Une," he said, as though the qualifier would absolve his sin.

"Do that. I'm sure Une's very upset, and would like to know why her second in command has been plotting against her," Sally agreed. She pressed the tips of her fingers together and rested her elbows on her knees.

"And she's going to be even more upset when she find out you somehow or other managed to run off with Heavyarms," he pointed out.

She smiled. "I thought I needed a special severance bonus, since the Preventers weren't going to give me one."

"How did you get it?" Wufei demanded.

"That you would have to ask Trowa..." Sally said. "If you decide I'm right, you can bring Shenlong... and since Sandrock has been destroyed, that will mean each side has two. Quite a balance of power." She twisted one of her braids. "I'm not after power, Wufei, but I do understand how the game works."

"So your after me because I have the only unclaimed Gundam?" he asked, sounding slightly disgusted, and maybe a little disappointed in her. "Sorry, Nataku is long gone."

"Liar," Sally accused.

He froze, and glared at her, raising a hand and smacking the screen. "Ta ma de! Nataku is gone!" he insisted.

"But you can bring her back. You're not like Trowa... who handed his back to the military when the war was done. You're not like Quatre, who destroyed his Gundam for a better era. No, you're more like Duo, who had to hide his Gundam because Deathscythe was a part of him."

Wufei cursed her under his breath, but he couldn't lie to her. Sally always saw the truth in him.

She continued, "But even if you didn't have Shenlong, I would want you by my side, not any of the other pilots. You understand what being Chinese is... even Quatre doesn't really understand what his heritage means." Her eyes sparkled.

"Is that what this is about? National loyalty?" he asked, and his hands touched the bottom of the screen.

"To me, it's about China. The China that loves all her sons and daughters...didn't you tell me that? If we come back to her, China will love us..."

Something in his eyes flickered, the sleeping dragon that lay within, as he remembered that conversation they had, sitting on Wing Zero a few days ago.

"The faces change, but things remain the same, Wufei. Federation or Romefeller or World Nation... they are all oppressors. It's time we made a stand, and said that we won't accept it. An international language being taught in school before the native ones. The Cinq Kingdom having more leading politicians then China, which has more land and more people. Our brightest children going to international schools, leaving our country devoid of its future."

Wufei looked at her. "I... They're trying, Sally."

"Trying for whom? It's all Western. All this Western culture... it's affected us. And other countries agree. Look at those who follow me, Wufei... Gils-Reve is French, and he went six months without speaking his native language because of the World Nation. Riley is Irish, but the Federation made him drop the "O" from his name because the computers couldn't process the apostrophe sometimes, and he can easily picture the World Nation doing the same. It's a small thing, but if they can make you change your name, what else can they do?"

Wufei watched her speak passionately about her cause. "Sally... I'm a colonist."

"And that means it doesn't affect you?" she nearly spat. "If anything, it affects you more! You're from a colony that prided itself on its Chinese heritage. They practically told me I couldn't be Chinese anymore- what will they do to you, or other colonies that don't have so-called established customs? You and I both know that's a lie... and it's only a matter of time before the World Nation absorbs the colonies!"

She saw in his eyes that he was listening... and Sally knew that he was on the verge of agreeing. She forced herself to stay calm. If she kept reeling, she could very shortly have one of the biggest fish in her net. "In a generation, maybe two, we won't have a culture anymore! That's where this era of absolute pacifism is getting us! We need war to sustain our identities, and us! War brings revolution and changes in thought, yet unites a people together! War is not glorious, but it is necessary! Without it, we stagnate and lose ourselves!

"I am Chinese! I am not going to live in a world where there are no national boundaries, for that means I have no pride! I love my language, yet it will die out- soon people will only speak Japanese and English, and then just English! I love my sense of family, yet soon the Western world will take that away!" she paused to take a breath.

Wufei listened closely, his hand going limp and falling away from the computer screen. "Meilan.... those flowers..." he whispered.

"Yes, Wufei! You understand what I'm talking about, don't you?"

"I... remember..."

"Yes! You were the one who told me that people were stupid to think the war was over! War is never over! Fight for what you believe in!" she said, pushing the final button.

And then something flickered across his face, and she knew that she had said the wrong thing. "I believe in people," he said slowly. "I believe that we have given them the right to choose their own futures. I believe that war is an awful thing- it may never be over, but if we don't at least try to seek peace, we're never going to find happiness. I believe that happiness is something that you strive for..." He paused, and then he gave her a soft smile, one that she hadn't thought him capable of. Something inside of him had changed, and she suddenly realized that she didn't know the real Chang Wufei anymore.

"I believe in my friends. I believe in the other pilots. I believe in the Preventers, and I am sorry that you never gave them a chance. I believe... I am not here to cause chaos anymore... I believe I am here to help the world." He looked at her directly, and the intensity in his face made her feel like she was drowning.

She shook herself out of it, and felt her heart harden towards him. She had believed that he would see the justice in her cause, but he, too, had been taken in. "Good-bye, Wufei. I hope you like the path you've chosen." She shut the connection down, unable to stand looking in his clear eyes.

Then she leaned back in the seat, hating how the battle lines had been drawn. But she was China's daughter, and she had made her choices. She would do anything for China, even turn against those who had once been friends.

 
Ni hao: Chinese, "Hello"
Ta ma de: Chinese, "Goddamn you"

 
Scene II: The Girl in the Mirror

 
If she'd been asked a year ago, when she'd been up to her neck in foreign affairs, country rebuilding, and establishment of a new national government, Relena Darlian Peacecraft would have readily admitted that she hated politics. But she could never have dreamed that she could hate it with such a passion as she did now, a week into Quatre Raberba Winner's trial, with no end in sight, endless infighting among the seats of the World Nation, and Fatima bint Narish smirking around the corner at every turn.

There were times in which she had just wanted to stand up, throw her papers on the ground, and storm out. She wasn't even sure what she was doing in the trial - as the head of the Cinq Kingdom, she had the duty to be there, but from the way the trial was going, it was Fatima versus Carrington versus Keets, and few people had managed to get a word in either way. She'd worked hard to prepare a list of statements, but it didn't look like she would ever be able to make them.

Once again, she had the power to change the world, and once again, it meant nothing. If not for Sylvia Noventa and Dorothy Catalonia, she wouldn't have even made it this far.

The manor was quiet as she let herself into the small back entry hall, slipped off her shoes, and took the narrow back stairs up to her suite. It was the house servants' day off, and Relena was sure that they were happily at home resting, wanting nothing to do with the current state of world events. She didn't blame them.

"Dorothy?" she called as she stepped onto the landing. No answer. The slanting sunlight through the large, glass-paned ceiling windows bathed the hallway in a comfortable late afternoon glow, and the grandfather clock in the hall read 5:43. Dorothy had promised that she and Sylvia would be back by 5:30. She sighed and made her way down the hall, passing Catherine's closed door and Dorothy's half-open one. From a glance inside the other girl's room at the unmade bed and the clothes strewn carelessly in heaps over the chairs and on the floor, it was good that the servants only had one off day every week.

Relena closed the door of her room behind her, kicked off her shoes in the antechamber, and shambled into the bedroom. Flopping onto her bed, she stared at the ceiling, so simple and white compared to the ornate, painted ones of the Cinq palace back home. Dorothy's Geneva manor was small but elegant, just what she would have expected an inherited home to be, and Relena's own rooms here were a charming suite, decorated in what seemed to be a 17th century Victorian meets 21st century Modernist cross-breed design. Since she and Catherine had moved in, they hadn't seen hide nor hair of Duchess Noventa, which was probably for the best, though Relena admitted privately that she had rather a morbid curiosity as to what the duchess would say to her, if they ever met. A few side comments from the servants led her to believe that Emily had gone back to France and would probably be staying there.

That was one thorn out of their side. Just a million more to go, and the world would be perfect.

Through the crushed velvet draperies, the sun was setting softly in the west amidst a cloudbank of brilliant gold and blue and purple, and for a moment she considered putting on a t-shirt and old jeans and asking the gardeners down below, who were pruning the roses, if she could go join them. When she had been around five or six, one of the Darlian house gardeners had taken her outside and showed her how to plant seeds. She wasn't sure why she still remembered that, but the feel of the moist, crumbly soil and the hard nub of the seed in her child's palm were still vivid memories.

She could hardly remember her father now. Her family. Her real family, the Darlians, the ones who had raised her and cared for her, the ones who had molded her into who she was now. No matter how hard she tried to envision them, to her the Peacecrafts were still and always would be just portraits on a wall, a legend, dim vision of glory and days gone by.

And then there was her brother.

A knock on the antechamber door scattered her thoughts, and Relena jumped, realizing that she'd been dozing and that she'd promised to meet Sylvia and Catherine for a light supper out in the garden. No rose pruning for the Queen of Cinq this evening.

"Sylvia?" she called, reluctantly standing and moving towards the bath suite for a quick scrub and to change out of her uncomfortable state dress.

The door opened and a curly head peeked through, followed by Catherine's inquiring voice, her lilting French accent cutting a cheerful swath through the room's still air. "Are you all right? I heard you come home, but you've been in here a while...Sylvia and Dorothy are back and they were asking...."

"I'm fine," Relena assured her, turning to see Trowa's sister enter the bedroom, plopping down on the warm comforter of her bed and turning to follow her movements through the suite. "I'll be right out...don't go away. Just need to wash up and change."

"If I fall asleep, just wake me up," Catherine called from behind her, and Relena smiled wryly as she closed the door and turned to shrug out of her suit.

She'd rid herself of the skirt and was unbuttoning her blouse and reaching over to turn on the hot water when she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye. Jumping, she looked around cautiously, then realized it was only her own reflection in the full-length mirror by the bathtub. She straightened and glanced once at it before going back to shedding her blouse, but almost involuntarily, her fingers slowed on the buttons and her eyes strayed back to the girl in the mirror.

She was thin, Relena realized. She hadn't looked at herself in a mirror in a long time, really looked at herself, as a person and not as a head of state. She was losing weight. There were no dark circles under her eyes, yet, but that was probably due to the makeup she had caked on this morning to mask the fact that she hadn't slept well. She needed to cut her hair. It was so plain, too....so long and drab and straight and fine. Fingering it, she wondered how she would look with Catherine's curls or Dorothy's thick, knee-length mane.

Letting her hands drop to her sides, she stepped back, blue eyes meeting silvered cornflower in the glass. The girl in the mirror looked back at her uncertainly, slim shoulders and arms and small, firm breasts partially hidden by the cover of white silk. There was the hint of ribs poking out from her stomach, smooth thighs and slender ankles looking more like a girl's than a woman's.

The girl in the mirror was just a girl, after all. Not a great crusader, not a promised heir of a lost kingdom, not the saving grace of the world. Those were just titles. Strip away the titles and you had simply Relena.

"Who is Relena?" she wondered aloud to the mirror, advancing and placing a hand on the shiny surface, watching the shadowed girl's hand come up to meet her, reality meeting reflection. Perhaps that was all she was, a female Narcissus, pretending to be the world when the only person she was fooling was herself.

Blinking away tears, she wrenched herself away from the mirror just as a soft knock sounded on the door.

"Relena?"

She didn't answer, sliding down the side of the tub, the hot water still running, staring at her feet. She heard the door open, heard footsteps come in, a concerned gasp.

"Oh...Relena....did you fall asleep?"

She saw Catherine's hands come up to her shoulders, but the thought of anyone's skin on hers made her flesh crawl. She flinched, and the hands fell away. "Oh...I'm sorry, Relena...I-"

"Do you think I'm worthless?" Relena interrupted harshly.

She could almost hear the hundreds of questions running through the other girl's mind and rose heavily to her feet, turning away. "Never mind. Forget it."

"Why would you be worthless?" Catherine demanded. "You're Relena."

She threw the blouse to the floor violently. "And who is Relena?" she demanded. "You know, Catherine, it's easy to say that....easy to be someone else. But when I look in the mirror...I don't even know who I am anymore!"

If Catherine was bothered by the fact that the Queen of Cinq was standing before her stark naked, she didn't show it. Instead, she moved past her, picked up the blouse off the floor, and threw it into the dirty clothes basket by the wall, then patted the edge of the bathtub. "Here. Have a seat."

Relena stared at her.

Catherine stared back for a second, standing still, poised like a statue. Then looking like she'd come to some sort of conclusion, she drew her sundress over her head with one swift motion, then discarded her slip, kicking her sandals off her feet and seating herself gracefully on the edge of the tub with the finesse of a born acrobat. "Now we're on the same level," she said, pointing to the glass across from the tub. "Look in the mirror and tell me what you see."

"You're mocking me," Relena said. The steam from the running hot water was seeping into the air, swirling around them.

Catherine's large gray eyes were smoky and dark. "I would never mock you. You know that."

"I know," she whispered, sinking down on the edge of the tub. "I...just..."

There was an arm around her shoulders, comforting, giving her a squeeze before releasing her, and Relena stared into the mirror again, seeing the two female forms through the haze of steam. It surprised her to see that Catherine's arms and legs were not as model-slender as her clothes usually made them seem, and she felt guilty for assuming so. Catherine had an acrobat's body - muscular and toned, with strong arms and shoulders and calf muscles - but it was a woman's body too, curved and full in all the right places. She didn't dare to look at her own reflection. Compared to Catherine, she was woefully inadequate.

"What do you see, Relena?"

"You're a woman," Relena said softly, looking down at her hands. "I...I'm just a girl."

Catherine laughed, and the silvery sound caught her by surprise as she involuntarily jerked her eyes up to meet her friend's gaze. "And you can tell that by just looking at a reflection?"

Relena started to protest, but Catherine shook her head, the amusement fading slowly from her voice. "Mirrors tell us many things, Relena, and you've been using them your whole life, haven't you? I can tell. You're so professional, so serious even in private, always carrying yourself like something will break if you take a wrong step. Like this whole week. The trial's been wearing on you, hasn't it?" Relena looked up at her. Catherine nodded. "I was wondering when this would happen. You're afraid, aren't you? Afraid that if you make a mistake, there will be no mercy?"

"There is no mercy," Relena said softly, almost inaudibly over the rushing of the water from the tap. "Millions might die if I make another one. I can't afford it."

"I know," Catherine said. "I admire you, you know. Your strength...you're very strong, whether you believe me or not. You're one of the strongest people I know. Some people say that the pilots were strong, but I think you're stronger than they were."

Relena frowned. "Now you're lying."

"I don't lie," Catherine snapped. "I tell it like it is. I'm an acrobat, I'm a performer, and I have been my whole life. I know what it is to be in the spotlight and have to hold your head up high even though your whole world has just been torn to bits. I know what it is to cry silently, inside, and have no one listen." She closed her eyes briefly. "But you know what?"

Relena twisted her hands together. "What?" she murmured.

"I don't have that strength that you have," Catherine said. "I don't have the...serenity that you possess, the hope you give everyone that life will go on and that we will triumph. And maybe you don't know that you have it, and maybe that's good and bad. Good because you will never know what it's like to be arrogant. Bad...because if you decide to quit, you'll never know what the world has lost."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that we believe in you," Catherine said calmly, putting her hands on Relena's shoulders and turning her around to face her. "As a queen, as an authority, as friend, as a woman, and as a girl. Because I believe that each of us are all of these things. We are each queen of our own domains, and we are all children within our own hearts."

"And you can tell that just from our reflections?"

Catherine grinned suddenly. "Didn't anyone ever teach you that we wandering gypsies can tell fortunes?"

Relena felt herself smile back. "Didn't you just say that you don't lie?"

Suddenly, she felt herself drawn close in a hug. "No matter what happens, Relena, I'm still your friend. No matter what, no matter how you think of yourself. I'll be here. At least believe that."

"Thank you," Relena murmured, holding the embrace for a second before drawing away. "I'm sorry...it's been a rough day..."

"And I know it'll continue to get rougher. No apology needed."

"Though," Relena added, like an afterthought, "I still don't know if I can believe all that you said."

"You can start by telling yourself that you do matter," Catherine returned. "That's all it takes."

"I..." She closed her eyes. "It's easy for you. You have Trowa. I...have no one."

"What about your brother?"

She snorted, a sound that would have startled any of her ministers if they had heard, but she didn't care. "What about him?"

"Well..." Catherine pursed her lips. "He is your brother."

She shrugged. "Yes. He is. That's about it." Zechs. Milliard. Oniisama. She tried to smile. "I haven't heard from him since he came back from his colonial rebellion...I don't think he wants to see me. Which is fine, I suppose."

"All right, what about Heero, then?"

The pain engulfed her like a wave. "Don't talk about him right now. I...can't."

"Maybe that's what you need," Catherine continued ruthlessly. "You've avoided him long enough. You've been wallowing in your own wounds. If you love him, tell him!"

"It's not that easy!" Relena snapped. "What about-"

"The past?" Catherine countered, standing suddenly, her lithe athlete's body seeming to coil like a spring. "The past is past. You can't change that. I know you need him, Relena, and he needs you. That's it, you know?"

Relena blinked. "What?"

"You and him. Two halves of a whole. You both are the kind of people who give the world hope."

"That's ridiculous," she said, trying to laugh.

"I don't lie," Catherine said. "And I'm not talking about romantic attraction, though I do hope there is some kind of that in it. It's...something more than that. Something destined." Her eyes were intense, hopeful. "Trowa spoke of it once, and I didn't understand. But now I think I do. There are some people who were meant for great things in each age, and I believe you and Heero are the ones for our times."

"I've been trying," Relena said. "I've been trying so hard. I'm so tired, Catherine...I'm so tired of fighting with words, but words are all I have!"

"You know what Trowa taught me? I never truly understood why he fought...till now."

She looked wearily up at Catherine. "What?"

"It's something that I can't see why I haven't seen before. Why he fights. He fights because it's the right thing to do."

She stared at the other girl, trying to read the thoughts behind those eyes. "What do you mean?"

"You're strong, Relena. Do what you think is right."

Before she could say anything more, Catherine was moving towards the door, picking up her clothes from the bathroom floor in one swift gesture and smiling. "We're late for dinner, I think. You better hurry."

The girl in the mirror looked back at her as the door closed, and Relena ran one hand slowly across her cheek, her mouth, down between her breasts and across her hips, wondering.

I'm so tired of fighting with words, but words are all I have!

Do what you think is right.

Swallowing, she drew herself up, noting the proud set of her shoulders, the tilt of her chin. She supposed most people would call it the carriage of nobility. To her, her reflection in the mirror still only looked like a girl playing with fantasy, pretending to be queen.

 
Scene III: Sunlight Covered by Shadow

 
Etille's office was lit by a single lamp, illuminating the boxes in the corners of the room and the makeshift desk that had been constructed out of a piece of plywood and some cinder bricks. There were no windows. The general had obviously been waiting for him, and when Heero entered, he nodded.

"Ah. There you are. I must talk with you."

No small talk, no inquiries about his health. Heero wasn't too surprised. From what he'd heard, Etille was an old hand at this - a veteran of too many wars. The lines on his still-young face were a testament to that.

If he saw Heero's scrutiny of his features, the general gave no notice, only waving vaguely at a straight-backed wooden chair by the desk. "Sit down, Yuy."

He sat.

Etille didn't meet his eyes for a moment, and he wondered what he had done this time. Perhaps he would be expelled from Preventers Headquarters? When he got the notice this morning that the general had wanted to speak to him, he had assumed it was General Po. The order had said nothing about which general, and he had come down here thinking to see Sally's face behind the desk. But this changed everything.

"Where's General Po?" he said abruptly.

For a moment, an iron kind of smile touched the general's eyes, then faded. "Not one to waste words, I see."

"I have few words," Heero said quietly. "Therefore, I waste none of them."

"Astute." Eyebrows curved upwards for a minute, regarding him. "I will not lie to you, since this is one of the things I called you in here for. Sally Po has...betrayed the Preventers."

He blinked.

Etille watched him, saying nothing, and for a moment he wondered if this was a joke.

"Say again, sir?"

"You heard me the first time," Etille said harshly. "Po has evidently decided that the Preventers and the World Nation are nothing more than some kind of renewed Romefeller and Federation and has broken away. She's gone, Yuy. We sent an arrest warrant after her, but she's escaped somewhere."

Betrayed?

Sally wouldn't betray them. Sally was bright, brave, the kind of woman that would defend what she loved to the end, fiercely loyal to...her country...

And he understood.

"Where is Chang Wufei?"

He saw Etille's approval of the question written in the general's eyes. "Chang is safe. On base. He actually came down here last night, reporting that Po had attempted a direct link to the comm in his room. We've since changed the codes and the security lockdown - that won't be happening again."

"But Wufei...is still with us."

Etille smiled. "He gave us his oath that he was still supporting the Preventers, and I think that oath means a lot to him. He won't betray us, no."

He felt a sense of relief wash over him, blew out the breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. If Wufei had gone...

"Chang says she has Heavyarms."

He sat still, not sure how to take that last comment.

"Which is," Etille continued, "precisely the reason I've called you in here today." He folded his arms across the desk. His gaze made Heero a little uncomfortable, but he didn't look away. "How do you feel about your skills in Wing Zero?"

If it had been two years ago, he would have simply sneered at the general, knowing that he had what it took to accomplish whatever mission was set for him. But it wasn't two years ago. He was no longer Heero Yuy, the hope of the colonies, the invincible, perfect soldier. Too much had changed since then - too many memories, too many regrets, too many legacies of trying to run away from his past.

He now knew that he couldn't run much longer.

A thousand thoughts flitted through his mind, and it wasn't questions of what he would be doing in Wing Zero, but the question of yes, how did he feel about his piloting skills?

He hadn't piloted his Gundam in years. Years could make a lot of difference. He'd lost two years of his life skulking in the shadows, trying to kill himself without actively doing so, and knowing now that he had been stupid didn't change the past.

"I'm not sure," he said cautiously.

Etille looked surprised. "Really?"

Heero shrugged. "It's been a long time since I've piloted. I'm sure muscle memory and all that would come into play, but as far as skill..." he trailed off.

"Interesting," the general mused.

"Why do you say that, sir?" he asked sharply.

Etille glanced at him before turning back to the computer and typing in something. "Because from what I have been told of you, that's not the kind of answer I would expect. Not from Heero Yuy."

The comment stung, but he didn't show it, made sure his voice was carefully neutral before answering. "Everyone grows up. Even Heero Yuy."

The tapping of the fingers on the keyboard paused. "Yes," Etille agreed after a moment. "They do."

"How do I know you're not a traitor, sir?"

Etille blinked. "Excuse me?"

Heero shrugged. "Sally is a traitor. And I knew her. How do I know that you're not on her side, hoping to ensnare me like she tried with Wufei?"

Etille smiled faintly. "You'll just have to trust me when I tell you that I am not. I hope I'm trustworthy enough for that."

"So is Sally," Heero countered, and when the general took his eyes off the computer screen to frown at him, he shrugged again. "Just because she betrayed you doesn't mean that her cause has no merit. She's a passionate woman, and she'll fight for what she believes is the truth. That's all war comes down to in the end, I think. It's about truth. About fighting for what you believe is right. About fighting for your version of what is true."

"That's the same as saying that there is no absolute truth," Etille said. "Is that what you mean?"

Heero smiled faintly. "If you're asking me if I want to betray you, don't worry, I'm not going anywhere. My life is here - my friends, my past...everything that I fought for during the war is with the Preventers and the World Nation. All I am saying is that if some people think otherwise, especially if some of those people are people who fought so hard to create this new world, then our system could do with a little change as well."

"Everything could always do with a little change. The world doesn't stand still for anyone, Yuy. You realize that."

"I know," he said. "But sometimes, it's people like Sally who make us see the truth in ourselves."

People like Sally.

Like Doctor J.

Like Zechs.

Like Treize.

Treize Khushrenada...

"People like you," Etille said.

He nodded. "Perhaps."

"I've a mission for you," Etille continued abruptly, as if that break in conversation had never happened. "I would prefer if you took someone along, someone who is also adept in handling a Gundam, and preferably someone you trust. I know there are five of you here. Don't take Winner. He's busy with the trial. Anyone else will do."

"What mission, sir?"

Etille paused as a hard copy began printing itself from the printer by the foot of the desk, next to one cinder block. "I assume that you're well enough versed in military strategy to have read The Art of War, by Sun Tzu?"

It had been required reading for Doctor J. He nodded.

"What does Sun Tzu say about foreknowledge?"

Heero thought back to those lessons, memorizing the ancient text under Doctor J's watchful eyes. "'What enables the wise sovereign and the good general to strike and conquer, and achieve things beyond the reach of ordinary men, is foreknowledge,'" he quoted.

"Which means?"

Heero looked up at him. "You want me to be a spy."

"Special operations," Etille corrected.

He gave the general a shadow of a smile. "Same thing. You want me to find Sally. You don't know where she is, and you think I can find her."

"Can you?"

They stared at each other for a moment over the makeshift desk with the light of the lamp burning into Heero's eyes, and he saw the ghosts of a hundred battles flit up over him, saw as if in a dream the shadow of Treize rise up over Etille's shoulders and give him a look of cool calculation.

What are you made of, Heero Yuy?

He grasped onto the name as if it were a stronghold, a beacon of light out of the darkness. He was Heero Yuy. Not Wing, not a no-name assassin, not the drug addict that had forcefully buried himself under the pile of sludge that he'd called home for the past two years. It was time to face the present, whether he liked it or not.

"That depends on who I take along."

Etille's eyes narrowed. "And who would that be?"

He kept his face blank, a study in expressionless-ness that would have made the old Heero Yuy proud, though inside he wanted to smile, because as Etille asked the question, he already knew. There had been no decision.

"Duo Maxwell," he said.

Ninmu...ryoukai.

 
Scene IV: Quatrana Winner's Son

 
It was not pleasant.

Everyone had faults, Quatre knew, but hearing all of his being paraded before the entire world was not anything he had ever wanted to happen. Still, he retained an attentive and interested expression, even though all he wanted to do was squirm in his chair. Every now and then Yaminah would kick his leg slyly and he would realize that his attention was wandering.

The cameras were getting on his nerves. There were ten different ones placed all over, and different news agencies were tapping into it at all times. Two of them were on him, and he knew that many women were falling in love with him. He'd already received marriage proposals. If he got off, he'd be even more famous, and one of the ten most eligible bachelors in known space.

The very thought of it gave him an ulcer.

Right now, nine days into the trial, a panel of five expert witnesses each side had agreed on were reviewing his mental state and capabilities. It consisted of a psychologist, a psychiatrist, an expert on the Zero System, a physiologist, and a neurologist, all of whom were extremely apolitical. Still, Quatre was developing an active dislike for the Zero System expert, who was staring at him like he was a specimen, and the neurologist was examining him like he was a slug.

Fatima currently was directing the questioning. "How would you describe Mr. Winner, from the reports you have received?" she was asking the panel.

The psychologist, who was of the psychoanalytic school, was thoughtful. "He has issues with his father, obviously. He is shy, probably because his mother died when he was young, and probably was somewhat repressed from being the youngest of thirty exceptional children... of which he is no doubt the most outstanding. He has always has everything he ever wanted, so Federation rule would be untenable to him. His rebellion phase is similar to that of other rich boys- throwing all their parent's values in their face, going out and being destructive, and then accepting them."

"Winner is part of a family known for their empathic abilities. It's been theorized that when eventually one of the offspring would reach a point where their abilities were out of control- I think that point has been reached in Quatre, and we've seen the results- the destruction of two colonies." Dr. Rhea took a sip of her water after making her pronouncement, as though she hadn't just denounced him.

Quatre just looked at him carefully, wondering exactly what the psychiatrist was talking about. Rhea obviously knew nothing about how the uchuu no kokoro worked. The doctor shifted at the calm look in the pilot's eyes, apparently disconcerted.

The next one to speak was Gaels, Zero System expert, and he cemented Quatre's dislike. "Insane."

"Can you elaborate?" Fatima prodded when it became apparent that Gaels had no intention of continuing.

"There are only three people who have ever mastered the Zero System: Heero Yuy, Quatre Winner, and Lady Dorothy Catalonia." His eyes briefly shifted to where Dorothy was watching the proceedings, seated besides Relena. "We're going to discount Lady Catalonia, because she's a woman, and the female mind may react differently to the Zero... according to records, she's the only woman to ever use it.

"Every male to use it, though, went insane and experienced 'visions' of some sort. Even pilots Barton, Peacecraft and Chang, who all could be considered on Winner's level, experienced severe disorientation. The only two to ever master the use of the Zero were Winner and Yuy. Yuy has, through almost all accounts, experienced severe genetic engineering, and no one considers him to be... of common morality. Winner is the same- he does what he wants, when he wants."

"We all know that he was genetically engineered," the physiologist said. "The Winner family is notorious for manipulating their children, and sometimes the manipulations result in disorders, creating psychopaths... or a sociopath. I think Winner's manipulations are part of the problem."

"You're wrong," Jaffa said, coming to her feet. She pulled back the face veil she was wearing and stepped away slightly from Quatre after casting him a melancholy look. Something in her dark eyes warned him that she was about to do something he wasn't going to like, but it was something she believed was in his best interests.

Quatre turned to look at her, along with the court. It was well known that all of the Winner offspring were test-tube children, and Jaffa was denying it? What is she doing? he wondered.

"While Quatre experienced some of the standard genetic manipulations that most colonial-bred children in the middle or upper class have, that happened while Quatrana Winner was carrying him, not in any test tube. Some of the manipulations you are claiming were performed are impossible for a natural child."

The room froze.

"Neesan... don't perjure yourself..." he whispered softly.

Jaffa ignored the members of the World Nation, and turned to her younger brother, and spoke as though they were the only ones there. "I have medical records that prove that Quatrana Winner died due to the stress of child birth," she said softly.

The young blond felt the truth flowing from the family matriarch, and felt something inside him crack open, a part he thought he had healed by meeting the Maguanacs. "Neesan?" he whispered.

She fell to her knees beside him, uncaring of her fine clothes, or the eyes of the world. Her poor empathy wouldn't let her share her brother's pain, but his sapphire blue eyes could conceal nothing. "It was something Father never wanted you to know. Quatrana so wanted to have you... and Father could deny her nothing. But she was too frail to survive a childbirth, and not even the best doctors could save her."

She picked up his clammy hands and rubbed them together, trying to restore warmth to them. He forced himself to focus on her tanned face, and Yaminah was rubbing his back, but he barely felt them. His heart was somewhere else, and his mind was divorcing itself from where it was. This was... it was too much.

It was the neurologist, a doctor named LaRock, though, who surprised them all. She looked at them, and a sympathetic smile formed on her previously professional face. Reeshya looked at her as she felt a sudden shift in mood. "Something else none of you are mentioning. Quatre is an empath; that is true. But you forget to mention that people around him can't help loving him. Everyone listens to what he says, because he cares about them and always does his best to see that.

"It that's what you call insanity, I hope that I'll be that insane someday."

Fatima's rage was so intense that Quatre felt it through even through his dazed confusion.

The Senate stared at her, but Yaminah looked at President Alderman. "I'd like to call for a thirty minute recess," she said.

"Granted," he said, rising to his feet and leaving the room after hitting the button that would shut the newswire off.

The Senate members milled around, playing their games, while Quatre sat in shock. It was a relief to have the cameras off him, but the Senate was still there, so he couldn't completely lose it. "Why?" he whispered. "Why wasn't I told?" he asked.

"Father... didn't want to hurt you," Yaminah said. She straightened some of the files, and exchanged glances with Carrington. "LaRock seems to like you..."

"LaRock sees the truth," a voice said, and they looked up to see the expert witness come over and stand in front of them.

"You'll compromise us if you stand here," Carrington said in her typically straight to the point fashion.

"I just wanted to say one thing," the doctor continued. "There's one thing you need to remember, Winner. No matter if you win or lose, the public will make their own judgement. Don't worry about playing the political game to the point of killing your soul. Play it, but keep your heart... it'd be a shame to see a soul like yours die." She nodded at them before returning to the table where she was assigned.

Something about that snapped Quatre back to himself. "Father... he loved me, didn't he? Sometimes I wondered."

"Father loved you most of all," Reeshya replied. "I knew him best- I may have been his favorite daughter, but you were his favorite. After what Jaffa just said, I don't think it was because you were the son and heir. I think it was because Okaasan died giving birth to you. You were her last gift to him. And that's why you scared him- you must be a lot alike..."

Jaffa laughed lightly, and Yaminah chuckled as well. "When this is over, we'll tell you about her. She was very like you- gentle, but with a will of iron. No one denied her what she truly wanted."

Yaminah smiled and turned Quatre's face so she could look into it. "You look more and more like her every day. It must have hurt him greatly to see you."

Quatre smiled softly, and felt a weight lift from his heart. "I... I need to think on this, but there's no time to think."

"Or talk to friends," Reeshya said, nodding to where Trowa was talking quietly to Catherine. "When was the last time you were able to speak to him?"

"Two days ago."

"You'll need to fix that... and have you seen any of the others? They're all on base... and I don't think you've talked to Duo or Heero yet."

He felt something tighten inside of him. "Duo... I wouldn't mind seeing, but he's mad at Trowa. And Heero..."

Reeshya had always been particularly in sync with her younger brother, and nodded. "Later."

"What about them?" Carrington suggested, shifting her eyes towards the seats in the Senate where Dorothy, Relena and Sylvia were sitting.

"I... I... don't know Sylvia that well..." He felt the lump in his stomach grow.

"But what about Dorothy or Relena? They'd be valuable allies..." Carrington suggested, and Yaminah nodded.

"I think we have some business to take care of..." Yaminah said, and grabbed Reeshya and Jaffa, and Carrington trailed along after.

Quatre was left along for the first time in ages, and he knew what was going to happen. He raised his eyes and made eye-contact with the trio.

Seeing all three young women together almost made Quatre blink. Sylvia and Relena looked alike enough to be sisters, and Dorothy was another blonde who bore enough resemblance to be mistaken for a cousin by blood, rather than marriage. It was a remarkable thing that they were some of the most powerful politicians in known space at their age. Relena gave him a gentle smile, while Silvia's face remained serene. Only Dorothy came down to speak with him, weaving her way through the three rows of chairs that separated them.

"Hello, Quatre," she said.

"Hello, Dorothy. How have you been?"

"The polite thing to do would be lie and say quite well, but you've had enough lies thrown at you today." She smiled at him, and he was surprised that it wasn't a malicious or sneaky smile, but a genuinely welcoming one. "I haven't seen you since we said goodbye on the Peacemillion." Her smile grew sad and she reached out to rest her hand on his cheek gently. "Quatre Raberba Winner..." she whispered. "Exactly as I thought.... Out of all the Gundam pilots... you're the one who's most misunderstood." The words echoed across time, and suddenly he was thrown back in time, fighting this girl aboard the ship, pitting his uchuu no kokoro and her control of the Zero System against each other, ending in the defeat of them both.

His eyes widened and he stared into her face, surprised at the sympathy there. "What has happened to you, Dorothy?" he asked. It seemed like all the anger she had used to motivate her actions had been drained away, replaced by a more serious, and ultimately powerful, determination.

"I suppose you could say I grew up." Her hand dropped away and she glanced back where Relena and Sylvia were sitting and watching them. "I asked you once what you fought for, and you said that you fight for the people... and now I ask you another question. What have they done for you in return?" Again, her words seemed to come from the past, yet they seemed to be more poignant then they had when she had first said them. They were no longer children dancing to a tune they barely understood; now they were adults who had shaped the world, and were suffering for their actions in the past.

Quatre smiled over at his sisters. "I fought to protect my family.... And now they're fighting to protect me. What more could I ask for?" he asked quietly.

That seemed to cause her breath to catch. "What more indeed?" she whispered softly. "You've seen who values you, and you know the truth. You can look yourself in the mirror, and respect the person you see. What more could you want?" Dorothy looked over to where Trowa had joined his sisters and Carrington. "When you speak to Trowa, can you do me a favor?" she asked.

He nodded. "What?"

"Tell him I've learned how to cry. He'll know what that means..." She nodded at him graciously as the bell sounded, warning that the meeting would reconvene in two minutes. Then she turned away and went back to her seats, moving like a willow in the breeze.

Quatre watched her go. "You're still kinder than I am..." he whispered. He wondered how many video cameras had caught their private conversation, and decided he didn't care. One of the ghosts of his past had been laid to rest, giving him a chance to make a new friend who would support him. He smiled slightly. He could almost feel at peace. The past was just that- he was not in his parent's shadow anymore... and people like Dorothy were part of his future.

He and Dorothy Catalonia were finally on the same side. It felt right... and after all, what more could he ask for? If he and Dorothy could come to understand and believe in each other, who knew what possibilities the world held?

 
Act IX Part III | Act X Part II | Back to Sainan no Kekka