SHIN KIDOU SENKI GUNDAM WING

SAINAN NO KEKKA
ACT V, PART I

 
 
Scene I: The First to Fall

 
Quatre had been longing for relief from pressures of his position as C.E.O. of the Winner Group, but now that he had it, he wasn't quite sure what to do with himself.

He'd spent the first two days catching up on his sleep. It was a soldier's creed, after all, to sleep whenever one could, and Quatre finally found the time to make up for a year of getting dragged out of his warm bed by Kasserine. But one could only sleep so much before going mad out of boredom, and Quatre reached his limit in less then three days. His quick mind wouldn't stand for idleness; he'd never been idle in his life before, and didn't know how to handle it.

The next few days were passed wandering around the compound and generally making a pest of himself. The Magunacs quickly assigned a constant bodyguard to him- not so much for him, but for the people around him. He was determined to help, never mind that he hadn't really the slightest idea on how to do most household chores. He'd always had people around to do it for him, and he figured now would be the perfect time to learn.

He was a natural in the kitchen- a natural disaster, that was. After discovering that it was possible to burn water, and giving himself a case of mild food poisoning, he had been banned for life from that domain.

"You know, it really is sort of funny, Quatre," Rashid had said when the cook had complained to him. "You're one of the most feared terrorists the world had ever seen, the brain behind the Gundam pilots, and you managed to survive the war only to nearly kill yourself with your own cooking?"

Quatre's response was not repeatable in polite company.

"It's for your own safety- and ours," Jaffa had said, attempting to soothe him. "I'm sure you can find another hobby that is more suited for your talents."

Quatre had fumed and redoubled his efforts to "help". He stole into the laundry room and made his first attempt at doing laundry. Since he had a very small load, he added whatever extras were lying around, decided that it couldn't hurt. He added soap and started the machine, making a mental note to come back in fifteen minutes to check on it.

He was pestering the cook (from the doorway of the dining room, since she still wouldn't let him set a foot in her domain) for a snack when someone screamed his name. "Quatre!"

He winced. That hadn't sounded good. When he tracked down the source of the voice, he was confronted by an impatient Jaffa standing with her hands on her hips, glaring up at him in the manner only an infuriated sister could. "Neesan?" he had asked, worried about what he had done wrong.

"Look at that," she said, pointing to the laundry room.

His eyes widened in horror. Inching across the floor was a steadily growing stream of soapsuds. "What happened?" he asked.

"You did," Jaffa said, much of the irritation leaching out of her voice. She looked tired. "This is such a classic mistake that it'd be almost cliche. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed that anyone could have made that mistake, especially not someone who graduated college at twelve!"

He gave her a shy smile, hoping to defuse her mood. "I'm sorry, Jaffa. I should have read the instructions. But I've seen it done so many times on vid that I assume that you just had to fill the little tray thingy."

Jaffa rolled her eyes. "Spare me from innocence," she said. "Quatre, you have maids. You have enough money to hire maids for your maids. THEY are the ones who are getting paid to do laundry- YOU are the one who wears it. I WOULD make you clean this up, but I shudder to think what you would do with a mop."

He pouted at her, forgetting that he was supposed to be the leader of the family. "You really don't trust me much, do you?"

"I trust you with my life, Quat, but not my laundry."

Quatre's incessant attempts to be "helpful" finally convinced Jaffa that something had to be done about it once and for all. Reeshya tracked down Quatre on the morning of the fifth day out by the irrigation system poking around, pestering a maintenance crewman with his incessant "why's." His older sister saw the slightly pained look in the poor employee's eyes, and gleefully tugged on Quatre's ear, dragging him away.

He yelped. "What did you do that for?" he demanded.

Her grin was full of mischief. "It's more fun this way," she said. "What were you doing out here, anyway? You can build a Gundam, but you can't fix an irrigation system?"

He muttered a few choice words he'd learned from Duo, finishing it off with, "You're a sadistic wench."

She blinked. "You looked like butter wouldn't melt in your mouth," she said, her jaw opened slightly in amazement.

"You're just figuring this out?" he asked in mock surprise.

Reeshya sighed. "Quatre, love, we all understand you're nervous, but I have to be honest with you. You're driving us all nuts."

Quatre sighed. "I just... well, this waiting is getting to me. How come we can't just get over this? I wish something would happen- this waiting for the other shoe to drop is going to drive me mad!" he said, glaring at her fiercely.

She gave him a quick hug. "We know, dear, but it's not healthy for you to worry yourself like you have been. Why don't you play your violin? You were complaining that you didn't have time- now's the perfect time to work on something- didn't you mention something about working on the Vivaldi concerto? The one you were having problems with?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "How can I? Music is something I use to express myself, and right now, I don't have the slightest idea how I feel. I tried to play, but I was so nervous that my hands shook- how can you play violin when your hands aren't steady?" he asked in frustration, and she could almost touch his pain. Her emotions vibrated in sync with his and amplified them.

Quickly she jerked herself away mentally, refusing to get caught in the spiral. The uchuu no kokoro was useful, but if they didn't control it, it could rule you. She remembered one time when they had lost control, and it had taken a week to sort out which emotions belonged to who. "Quatre... what good is wallowing going to do?" she demanded.

"What else do I have to do? Since those reporters starting spreading their rather viciously slanted version of the war, all I've been able to do is worry!" Quatre said, running a hand through his blonde hair in frustration.

Reeshya suddenly realized what would keep Quatre busy. "Come with me," she demanded, dragging him in her wake by the hand. He followed in bemusement trying to figure out what was behind the sudden renewed bounce in her step. She seemed to be excited about something.

She took him into a study and pushed him down into a chair, then dug up a laptop. "Write."

"Huh?" he asked in confusion.

"Write the truth about the war. Write what really happened- your reasons for doing what you did, what you thought of the pilots, about the Zero system... write everything. Sometimes the only thing you can fight with is the truth, and I bet you're learning lately how powerful a weapon that is. I don't know if you'll want to get this published, and it might be able to be used against you in court... but I think this is worth the risk. You're starting to lose track of yourself, and I can't bear to see you suffering like this."

Quatre stared at a moment before a slow smile spread over his face. "Thank you, Reeshya. I think I will." He flipped the laptop open and within a minute he was typing away.

Reeshya watched him for a few minutes before nodding her satisfaction. Then she left the room, drawing the door shut behind her.

Quatre typed until he felt like his fingers would fall off, spilling his entire life's story, then continued. It felt amazingly therapeutic to just say the truth, rather then have to worry about what other people had to say, and clear up the misconceptions that had surrounded his life.

As he wrote, he realized that he wasn't doing this for himself, but more for others- for those who had not survived the war. He was not claiming to be right, but rather cauterizing the wounds on his soul, the wounds so much killing had inflicted upon the once-gentle Arabian.

On the third day of his sudden burst of productivity, two of his men entered the room. "What is it?" Quatre asked, his eyes slightly blurry from lack of sleep. He had written over 200 pages and was still going strong, and disliked the interruption, though he wasn't about to show it.

"Rashid sent us- we're to escort you off the compound," the older of the two men, Siddig, said.

The blood drained from Quatre's face. "What happened?" he demanded.

"A representative from the World Nation is here. Rashid is stalling him as best he can, but he has a warrant to search the place. They know you're here."

They know you're here. The words echoed in his head. It had happened, finally. He pushed the chair back and straightened his shirt, wishing he had time to put on fresh clothes. "No," he said. "Take me to them. I'm not going to run away."

They looked prepared to argue, but the hard look in the teen's blue eyes convinced them that it wouldn't be a wise choice. "This way, Master Winner," said the one who had remained quiet until now.

They quickly threaded their way through the multiple corridors of the compound, and all too soon Quatre saw Rashid arguing with a man who barely topped five feet. He had the features of someone from South America, and he didn't seem to be backing down at all from the towering Arab who was stonewalling him.

Quatre started to walk out towards him, but someone caught onto his sleeve. "Quatre, what's going on?" Reeshya demanded. Her color was high, and she was obviously out of breath from hurrying.

"What we knew would happen, Ree," Quatre said, amazed at the serenity he was feeling. "They've come for me."

"Then get out of here!" Reeshya demanded.

"No." He continued his advance.

The stranger noticed them approaching, and his eyes lit with a vengeful gleam that Reeshya didn't like. "Who are you?" Reeshya demanded, protectively stepping in front of her younger brother. She would be damned if she'd let him go without a fight.

The man looked at her. "My name is José Martino, and I've been deputized by the World Nation Security Council to escort Quatre Raberba Winner to Geneva where he is to face a war crimes tribunal for the destruction of two colonies."

The siblings' eyes widened. Reeshya whispered, "It was war... surely he can't be in trouble for that?"

Martino looked at her with hard eyes. "That's not for me to say. That will be up to the tribunal."

Rashid crossed his arms across his chest, glaring at the Latino with intimidating force, something that didn't seem to bother the tiny man at all. "Under whose authority do you do this?" he demanded. "You're not wearing a Preventer's uniform, and it was my understanding that the Preventer's were the law-enforcement arm of the World Nation."

Martino thrust a heavy sheaf of papers at Rashid. The paper was of heavy weight, and emblazoned with official seals. "The authority of the Preventers doesn't come into play. I'm a special investigator, and I have a signed warrant to take the pilot of 04 into my custody."

"No!" Reeshya protested.

"Let it go, Ree." Quatre stepped towards him. "I'll come with you," he said quietly. "I don't want any more trouble."

The other man nodded and produced a pair of shining handcuffs. "Please hold out your hands."

Quatre stifled a sigh. "You don't need to," he insisted. "I'm coming peacefully."

"I have to follow procedure in this case," Martino argued. "I know you have enough lawyers to tie up the court system for years, and everything is going to be by the book. I don't want anyone to claim that I let you off easily because you're a billionaire, or that you bribed me."

The sound of the handcuffs clicking around Quatre's wrists echoed in his mind with a resounding sense of the inevitable. "Quatre Raberba Winner, you are hereby placed under arrest for high crimes against humanity."

 
Scene II: Strangers on Common Ground

 
She had dumped her baggage on the bed of the hotel suite, not even bothering to put it in anything resembling order. Usually, Relena prided herself on being organized, but there were times when there were more important matters to think about.

The flight to Geneva had been uneventful and short, but that had just given her a good half an hour to sit and stare out the window and think. To remind her of all the other times she had sat and stared out the window of a shuttle or an airplane or a battleship. Different circumstances, different places, a different time.

What's wrong, Relena? You don't want to go back to Earth?

It had only been two years, yet it felt like a lifetime.

She hadn't notified Lady Une that she was coming. Une would have most likely told her not to come, begged her not to come, even. She wouldn't have put it past the former OZ colonel to have stationed Preventers troops at the airport gates, barring her entrance. So she'd simply played it safe and announced to her personal office staff that she would be taking a few days off. To tell them to call her if there was an emergency, but to handle anything else that might come up, because she was not to be disturbed.

There was nothing more she could do in the Cinq Kingdom. The drama...no, the war, would take place in Geneva, and she had every intention of being there when the firing started.

She would be there for the pilots, as they had been there for her, such a long time ago.

The taxicab rolled to a halt in front of the main gates of the headquarters base, and stopped as an armed guard trotted out of the guardhouse, eyeing the commercial vehicle warily. Relena leaned forward and tapped the driver on the shoulder.

"This is where I get off. Thank you."

He smiled at her, a wrinkled man with graying hair and two teeth missing, but there were tears in his eyes.

"It's been an honor...Queen Relena."

She blinked at him. She had not told him her name, and she was wearing sunglasses and a plain outfit, with her hair pulled back. He laughed dryly, then, and took her hand, brought it to his mouth and kissed it.

"I was a mechanic for OZ during the war. I remember seeing your speech on the television. It was...moving. I'll never forget it. I never dreamed I'd meet you in person."

"O-oh." She blinked again, still amazed that she was so recognizable, then smiled. "Is there anything...you'd like?" She had no idea how to deal with...fans? Could the Queen of the World have fans?

The driver shook his head and handed her back the bills she'd pressed into his hand at the beginning of the ride, nudging them into her hand as she tried to push them back to him. "Don't argue. Drive is on me. Good luck, Queen Relena."

The guard was tapping impatiently on the window of the cab, and she grabbed her purse and slid out of the back seat. The cab driver waved before turning around and screeching away in a cloud of dust. The guard looked suspiciously at her, and she removed her sunglasses. He gasped, and she smiled as sweetly as possible.

"I'm here to see General Une."

The Preventers Headquarters was organized along the lines of a military base, and with over 60 acres of land, it could afford to be sprawling. The streets were clean, with sidewalks sparkling white, and men and women in camouflage uniforms walked briskly, alone or in groups, armed or unarmed, clutching memos and briefcases. Relena hung onto her hat with one hand and onto the window of the military jeep with the other, trying to take in everything at once: the strange sounds and smells and sights. She had only been on a military base once, and that was with her father on a visit to a Federation base. She had been kept strictly by her father's side, forbidden to leave the cramped sitting area outside the office in which her father was currently negotiating with some high official. It had been boring, and she had hated it.

The Preventers Headquarters was different. The base had an air of openness, of newness, of purity. Lady Une certainly had changed, if she had been able to oversee the creation of something like this.

They passed the flightline, and Relena could see a few mobile suits parked on the white concrete, but it looked like the attack shuttles and huge tankers far outnumbered them. She wondered where Une wanted to take the military, if she was cutting down the use of mobile suits. It was something to ask.

The command center was a huge white building, several stories high and very imposing. Relena swung down from the jeep, waiting for the guard to tell her where to go. He came around the side of the jeep, scrawling something on a piece of paper.

"I doubt you'll need this, my lady, but just in case anyone stops you, show it to them."

"Thank you," she said, smiling at him, and he saluted.

"It's been an honor, Lady Relena."

The rumble of the jeep faded behind her and she took a deep breath, staring at the white building. It was now or never. She pushed down the butterflies in her stomach and strode resolutely forward. There was no reason to be nervous. Milliard wasn't there. Milliard was off...fighting a war. It was just Lady Une.

Though "just" Lady Une did not make her feel any better.

The automatic doors slid open for her, and the guards just inside the entrance glanced at her politely and asked to see her identification. She resolutely produced it, and their eyes widened as they saw the name written on the card.

"Lady...Lady Relena?"

She nodded politely, wondering how many other guards she would encounter, and then wondering if there was a back route to Une's office.

"But you're traveling alone! Where are your guards?"

"I prefer to travel alone," she said quietly, holding out a hand for her card and placing it back inside her purse. "I'd like to think that the guards on the Preventers Headquarters would be enough for my protection, isn't that right?"

"Ah...yes!" The guard on the right saluted hastily, and the one on the left followed suit. Relena repressed the urge to laugh.

"Could you tell me how to get to General Une's office?"

General Une's office was four stories up, down the main hallway and to the left. The place was crawling with guards, but that was understandable. It was, after all, the main headquarters for the World Nation military. She took her time, walking up the stairs instead of taking the elevator, politely asking permission from the security to simply walk around each floor. No one stopped her.

Milliard's office was on the third floor. She found it almost by accident, really, taking a wrong turn going back to the stairway and stumbling upon it. The entire hallway was dark and smelled musty, as if hadn't been used in a while. The door was closed and locked.

She traced the placard with her fingers.

Milliard Peacecraft, Colonel. Operations Group Commander

There was a funny feeling in her stomach, and she hastily turned towards the stairs before she would allow herself to become emotional. Milliard was gone, and that was that. There was nothing to be explained. He had closed himself off to her.

She reproduced the ritual with the identification card at the security desk on the fifth floor, then seated herself while the officer at the security station went off to notify Lady Une of her arrival. General. Not Lady, she reminded herself. That was then.

Glancing around the small sitting area, she felt her hands shaking and wiped her sweaty palms on the sides of her pants. There was no reason to be afraid. No reason, she reminded herself. It did not matter that she had not seen Une since they had parted ways when the war had ended. It did not matter that she had only spoken to her a few times in the past year, and all by vidscreen except at Treize's memorial service. It did not matter that Relena had once tried to kill her.

And you call yourself a Peacecraft!

That was different! she protested. I was younger then.

She was talking to herself. That was bad.

Footsteps down the hallway. She stood up as the officer rounded the corner, smiling politely.

"Lady Relena, the general is waiting for you in her office."

"Thank you," she replied quietly, and hurried down the corridor. Her shoes tapped weirdly along the tiled floor, and she almost felt like kicking them off so that her footfalls would make no more noise than they needed to. She was a civilian, intruding on a place where she did not belong.

Preventers Commander in Chief, the nameplate on the door read, and she tried the handle. It was unlocked. She wondered if she should knock, then simply turned the knob and stepped inside.

There was another smaller sitting area inside, with a smaller, unobtrusive door to the right and a large vidscreen on the wall to her left. But it was the clear glass door before her that caught her eye, and the figure sitting behind the desk which she could see through the glass. She swallowed.

"Come on in, Relena," Une called, before she could speak. She saw the other woman get up from behind the desk as she swung the door open, and then Une was embracing her.

"You shouldn't have come."

"I know," she said, a little breathlessly as the older woman let her go. "But you know me. I couldn't just sit there."

"Yes, I know," Une said, a little dryly, hands on her hips. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

"I thought if I'd told you, you wouldn't have let me come."

Une laughed. "Believe me, I would have tried to dissuade you, but right now, to tell you the honest truth, any support is welcome. Any support at all."

"Is it that bad?" Relena wondered, placing her purse on the desk and taking a seat on one of the padded chairs. The office was middle-sized but sparsely furnished. There was a computer on the large desk and a vidscreen to the right of it. A coffee cup, half empty, and multiple paperweights scattered over the dark oak desktop. The walls were bare. "I thought you had things under control...more or less?"

"Well," Une said grimly, crossing back behind the desk and folding her hands together. The fingers were clenched just a little too tightly, and the knuckles were white. "It depends on your definition of 'bad.' "

"What happened?"

"Nothing you don't already know, I don't think. But I have a feeling things are going to be changing very quickly. Quatre's been in hiding, as you know, though I don't know how much longer that will last. The World Nation is very adept at snooping."

"I know," Relena said, crossing her legs. "What about the...other pilots?" Trying to keep the hope out of her voice. "Have you heard anything?"

"Yes and no. Nothing on Heero, I'm afraid. I'm sorry."

She wasn't expecting anything, but still it was a disappointment. "It's all right. The others?"

Une hesitated, and Relena could almost hear the thoughts flashing across her mind. She was a civilian. She was a powerful political figure.

"It's all right if things are classified," she said hastily. "I don't want to-"

Une shook her head. "No...that's not what I'm worried about. If you know...you'll become a target. I don't want to subject you to that."

Relena let out the breath that she hadn't been aware she was holding. "Une...look. Even if you try to keep me out of it, I'll make myself involved. And I'm already a target, by the World Nation's standards. I became one when I made my position clear on the issue. You know that. So tell me everything."

To her surprise, Une reached out and grasped one of her hands lying outstretched on the desk. "I suppose there's no way to try to dissuade you...thank you. You might not hear this again from me, but you'll never know how much I appreciate it."

Relena squeezed her hand tightly, feeling the butterflies in her stomach dissipate. It was going to be all right after all...this was a different Une. "Tell me about the pilots."

"Duo, as you probably heard from the news, was a student at Cliffside Heights, in the United States. He left right after the riot there."

"I know," Relena said quietly. "I heard."

"I sent Sally down to Cliffside the day of the riots to see if she couldn't keep some kind of order there...apparently he'd left just before she arrived. Too bad. Trowa went back to his circus after the war, but I'd bet you anything that he's no longer there. He's smart. He'd leave in order to keep his sister out of danger."

"Wufei?"

Une shook her head. "I have no clue. Everything's a mess right now...I don't even know where to begin."

Relena nodded slowly, then looked up. It was now or never. And from the looks of it, there was a limit to how much her nerve would hold up. "Une..."

"What is it?"

"Where is...where is my brother?"

Une let out a deep breath. "He's...not here."

"I know. I found his office, by accident. The door was locked."

"He's been gone for some time...I think I told you...there was a rebellion on one of the outer mining colonies and I had to...dispatch him. I can't tell you more than that. I wish I could, honestly. But most of it you probably wouldn't understand anyway."

"I see," Relena said softly, feeling the knot in her stomach grow tighter. "Have you heard from him at all?"

"He radios in twice a week to give me reports. Short transmissions. I'm expecting one this afternoon, if you'd like to stay for it...I couldn't allow you to speak with him, but you could at least hear his voice...if you'd like?"

"No," she said. "That's fine...I'm sure he's taking care of himself."

She could feel Une watching her, those eyes still as hard and as clear as ever, and then Une shrugged slightly.

"Suit yourself. The offer is still open, if you change your mind."

Relena shifted, staring out the window. "No thank you."

"You and Milliard...had a falling out, didn't you?"

She jumped. "What makes you say that?"

Une smiled slightly, humorlessly. "I've always considered myself good at reading people. And the tone of your voice just then wasn't the tone of a fond sister concerned for her brother."

"We...had some problems," she said, twisting her fingers in her lap. "I don't know...I'm trying to remember him, now that I haven't seen him in months...but I can't remember anything."

Une said nothing, watching her. It was funny how peace could change everything. How it could make friends out of bitter enemies, and strangers out of siblings. "He said something a while back about he and I...being tied by blood only. That we weren't friends. Not even acquaintances. That I didn't know him."

"Did you?"

"I...I don't know. At the time, of course, I denied everything he said. But maybe it is true...after all. I don't know."

"Your brother is a complicated man," Une said. "I don't think even Treize understood him."

Relena stood abruptly, walking to the large window at the side of the office, looking out on the neat flowerbeds and white sidewalks of the perimeter of the command center. If not for the guard tower at the edge of the parking lot, it would have been just another office building, just another meeting.

"Do you miss him?"

She could feel Une's surprise. "Me? Who?"

"Treize. Do you...miss him?"

Une was quiet for a long moment, and Relena's fingers tightened on the glass of the window. "I'm sorry if I offen-"

"No. No, it's all right. Yes, I do miss him. Sometimes. It used to be painful, even...but I think the worst has passed."

"I'm glad," Relena said softly, turning to meet the lady's - general's - gaze. For a moment, she saw Une dressed once again in the red uniform, glasses on her nose, fierce and determined, and then the vision fell away to the haggard-looking woman in front of her, the woman who looked as if she hadn't slept well for weeks, with long hair gathered behind her in a loose bun, uniform still perfectly ironed despite it all, still fierce and determined. "He would be proud of you, I think."

"I've tried to make him proud. I hope...he would be, also."

"I'm sure of it."

"I'm sure your brother is proud of you."

Relena frowned. "I wouldn't be too sure about that."

Une smiled. "I think so. No matter what you think. I see him in you."

The other woman's words took a few seconds to register, and before Relena could think of a response, Une was standing up.

"But enough of small talk. Where are you staying?"

"A hotel by the airport," she began, but Une waved a hand.

"Forget that. You're staying on base. It's safer that way."

"But-"

"I won't say that the base is accident-free, but it's a whole lot safer than staying somewhere unguarded out in the city. I'm assuming you didn't bring bodyguards with you, since there aren't any here."

"No," Relena said. "I came alone."

"Stupid girl," Une murmured, but she was smiling. "I'll call up a car for you to take you back into the city so you can collect your belongings, and then I'll have them prepare a visiting officer's quarters for you. Free of charge, of course. It's on me."

Relena couldn't help it. She laughed.

"Thank you, Lady."

"It's just Une now," the general said firmly, coming around the desk again. "I was Treize's Lady...and that title died with him."

Relena nodded. "I understand."

Une took her hand. "This means a lot to me. Thank you, Queen Relena."

"It's just Relena now," she said. "I was Queen of the World...but that was a long time ago."

The grip on her hand tightened, and there was a look of gratitude in Une's eyes that she had never imagined she would see.

"Welcome back...Relena."

 
Scene III: An Unwanted Legacy Claimed

 
He looked over at the comm, hating every minute of this. He was steeling himself for the inevitable, but that didn't mean he had to like it. He had thought he was free.

The young man who called himself Matsuura Shinobu hadn't meant to get in over his head. Honestly, he hadn't. He'd wanted to get away from it all, wanted to make a break from the life of his ancestors. He'd changed his name, cut many ties to the past, and yet now he was voluntarily seeking to regain what he had given up.

He must be insane.

Still, he was doing it because it was right. Shinobu was different from the rest of his family. He could afford to have a conscience. He wasn't trapped in a secret world where he could trust no one. He wasn't trapped by a past that wouldn't let go.

Or so he had believed.

He had come to Cliffside Heights to complete the separation. His family had always been fiercely Japanese, even though they were colonists. They clung heavily to their language and culture, many of their actions incomprehensible by the Western mind. Shinobu wanted none of it- it was AC 197, and he was going to join the real world, the modern world.

He hadn't counted on the language barrier. He'd always lived in areas that had spoken Japanese as the primary language, and it had been unpleasant, to say the least, to have to learn to rely on his inadequate English. The language... oh, he spoke English, but it was so rudimentary. He couldn't understand the colloquialisms that his peers took for granted, and his thick accent prevented many from understanding him.

Shinobu had been slow to make friends, and those friends were few and far between. Chris was his only real friend; Helena and Ilene were friendly to him as they were to everyone else, but there was nothing truly personal about their companionship. They would often ask him to repeat himself multiple times, or speak to him as though he was a child.

Enter Duo, the human whirlwind. Duo, who knew how to laugh and tease, and was an immediate friend. A boy who spoke Japanese with no accent and was perfectly willing to accept an Asian. A boy who stood up for him, made it easier to communicate.

He hadn't been sure he liked Duo at first; the American was so expressive and bouncy, seemingly on a perpetual sugar high. Shinobu wasn't used to demonstrative people, and Duo was certainly one. He was amazingly tactile- Duo was always touching things, or waving his hands around when he spoke to make his point. He had never seen Duo remain still for more then a five minutes, and then the boy would be off again, bouncing around with a new passion.

Finally having someone who spoke his native language was an incredible relief- it was nice not to have to pause and search for words before saying anything. Duo was able to keep up with him, and Shinobu had been amazed at how fluent the American was in languages. Duo spoke four languages that Shinobu was aware of, and probably more besides.

Still, Shinobu hadn't been surprised to learn Duo's real identity and what he had done during the war. There had always been a hardness about the eyes, an alertness in his posture that had set off alarm bells in the Asian's mind. He had seen his share of rough customers and his day, and no one could persuade him that tangling with Duo wouldn't have been an extremely reckless and stupid idea.

Shinobu had been born on L1, and L1 was a hard place to live- especially the Breaks, which was where he originated from. With the support of his father, he had managed to move out and establish a new identity, but now he was voluntarily wading back into the shadowy world he had thought he had abandoned.

He must be nuts. Even criminals were careful how they placed their feet in the Breaks. They had been for over a century. Shinobu was well aware of the history of the Breaks- more so then most of its natives, knew that the area had started out as a group of high-rise condominiums created for the movers and shakers of the business and entertainment industries. Since only the extremely wealthy had enough money to move off-planet at that time (and doing so had quickly become fashionable), the condos had been pricey, and exciting.

Then something happened. No one was sure exactly HOW if happened, but it had.

The pivotal year was AC73. It had been a warm, balmy night (or so said the records the colony's artificial weather controls kept), and the year was going well. The economy was booming, the entertainment industry was doing well, and the people were relatively happy. They say that all good things must come to an end, and this saying was certainly well borne out by what happened.

It started with a murder. Actress Kristen Zcialbik was found dead on the floor of her suite early one morning in March, a gunshot ruining her previously matchless face. Her large lavender eyes were wide with terror, and someone had slashed her throat, giving her a second smile. There were no leads, no evidence of forced entry, but her death was written off as the doing of a jealous lover. After all, Kristen had been famous for the long line of broken hearts she had left in her wake.

Two days later, the complacency that had set in was yanked away. Multi-millionaire Joseph Steven Duncan was discovered with his throat cut in his bath. That same night, singer Alexander Jiang Wong collapsed at a party in the lobby of his building and was taken to the hospital. When he arrived in the emergency room it was discovered that he had died of poisoning.

Rumors flew. It was quite obvious that the same person or group was behind these acts, but no evidence was discovered. There were no fingerprints, no signs that locks had been tampered with, and no reason to think that this was simply a result of hostility between rivals, since the three who were murdered were from separate facets of society. All of them were extremely rich and famous, but then again, so were a lot of people. What made them special?

There were no more murders for almost a month after that and anxiety began to fade. But in early April 73, model Shi Takakara vanished from her suite without a trace. Her body was found mutilated in a nuclear waste yard in the industrial part of L1. The next morning, her lover Eric Vu was found on the balcony of his room with his heart cut out. They never did find what happened to the organ- some guessed it had been sold on the black market, while others offered more grisly theories. Cannibalism was a favored theory, and soon Vu's death was added to the local urban myth. Some people even claimed to see Vu wandering around, looking for his lost heart.

Within a month, the Breaks were being deserted as inhabitants deemed it wise to move out before they became the next victims. The condominiums were simply left empty in the middle of downtown L1, simply left there for some reason or another. Plans were made several times to tear them down and build another building in their place, but each time government (which was composed primarily of Japanese descended officials) deemed it too risky to build any building on the site of former murders. For whatever the reason, the Breaks were still standing as colony clusters began to be built and the center of L1 gradually shifted to the adjoining cluster at the beginning of the 90's, leaving them another monument of crumbling walls and broken glass in the midst of other deserted buildings.

As the government moved out, the dregs of L1 moved in. The former downtown became a shadowy hideout for criminals, drug dealers, prostitutes, and others who saw the broken buildings as perfect places in which to set up shop or to hide away. The Breaks themselves became the headquarters of the largest drug cartel on L1, headed by drug leader Shionji Hisashi, the youngest and most feared drug king in decades. It was said that the then twenty-something Shionji had the ear of half the politicians of the government, and he had the others by the balls.

Gradually, the area around the former condominiums became known as the Breaks themselves as the Shionji gang grew into a cartel that was feared throughout known space. Seedy bars, pawn shops, and casinos sprang up, covers for the drug deals and murders that took place behind closed doors with casual regularity. It was said that anything could be bought in the Breaks, whether it was sex, drugs, a slave, murder- as long as you knew the right people and the right price.

The crime rate soared and disease ran rampant. The government simply ignored the state of the Breaks, preferring to turn a blind eye towards it and to pretend it did not exist. As a result of this government negligence, the Breaks expanded rapidly. Prostitution and drug use skyrocketed. Assassin groups formed, selling their services to the highest bidder. Crime lords staked out territory in the shadows of derelict buildings and amassed their minions, building a mini-society of their own. By 121, even the bravest policeman skirted the Breaks and left the criminals to their own doings. When pressured, the government would say that the Breaks had their own set of rules that no outsider could understand. The Shionji cartel agreed, stating that they were the law, and imposing any kind of control from the outside would lead to unpleasant repercussions. No one wanted to think of what those repercussions might include; Shionji was known for his creativity.

In 147, the Reform party won the elections of L1 for the first time since the colony was formed, and the new government decided enough was enough. It sent a team of specialized soldiers to infiltrate the Breaks and determine how it could be reclaimed by, as Vice Chairman Kaoru Toshi stated, "its rightful owners: the government and the people." The operation failed miserably and all but one of the soldiers was discovered and tortured to death. The surviving man escaped with a report of the Breaks that proved that the situation was indeed worse than the government had thought. The poor man also had a warning carved into his back using a medical scalpel, warning against any further intrusions into the area.

The surviving soldier, a man by the name of Kanna Masao, divided the area into five sections with information he and his fallen compatriots had gathered: four quarters and a middle section which consisted of the still-standing original high-rise buildings that gave the Breaks its name.

The north section was the territory of various terrorist groups, crime lords, and minor drug cartels. This section became known as Hell, and was probably one of the safest areas of the Breaks to enter, though that wasn't saying much. Calling ANY area of the Breaks safe was ludicrous.

The most dangerous section, though, was undoubtedly in the east. The east section was primarily the hideout of assassins and gangs. Hitogoroshi no Meiro... the labyrinth of murderers, murderer's labyrinth. The gangs ran wild and the strong survived for only as long as they remained strong. Average life expectancy of someone born in Hitogoroshi no Meiro was less then twenty-five. For a man unassociated with any gang, it was less then twenty.

In the west quarter were located the brothels, bars, casinos, and other small businesses that provided drug and other traffic. It was said that if you had a vice, it could be found there. Appropriately enough, Kanna dubbed the area Yuuwaku, or "temptation."

The south quarter, while not the place with the highest mortality rate, was the one the Kanna advised officials to fear above all else. Bourei no Basho was the property of the two major drug cartels that ruled the Breaks: the Shionji cartel and the Black Diamond cartel and an uneasy balance of power was alll that kept the area from bursting in full-fledged warfare. Killing was coming, but unlike Hitogoroshi , the murders were always done as silently and seamlessly as possible. Six of the fifteen government team members had been killed attempting to infiltrate the Black Diamond cartel. Both cartels were powerful, but the Shionji cartel was the dominant one, having held undisputed rule of the Breaks for almost fifty years, ever since they had moved in.

This balance of power was shattered in AC 173 when Shionji Toburo, the son of Shionji Hisashi and the leader of the cartel, was murdered by an unknown assassin group. In the resulting chaos, the Shionji cartel fell apart, victim to succession quarrels as one by one the successors themselves met various unfortunate ends. The Shionji cartel, which had been the first to claim any sort of ownership in the Breaks, had been the one constant in a violent atmosphere of change. In a way it had almost been an invisible government holding the microcosmic society together, and without its dominating influence the society of the Breaks began devolving into one enormous hole of violence and crime. By AC 174, the "sections" of the Breaks as drawn by the government infiltration team no longer existed. The leader of the Black Diamond cartel soon met the same end as his rival, and though the Black Diamond managed to hold itself together, it had not the influence or the reach of the Shionji cartel.

When Heero Yuy was assassinated in AC 175, the government turned its attention away from the Breaks completely, involved with more pressing matters. After all, they were being oppressed by the Federation, and even though they attempted to make the Federation keep their promise to protect the colony, not even the most foolhardy general would order troops into what would amount to a virtual deathtrap.

The war changed nothing in the Breaks. While inhabitants were aware of it on the periphery, they experienced no direct effects - that would come later.

When the new government at last attempted to focus their eyes on the Breaks once again, after the war, they were surprised and dismayed to find that the boundaries of the area were slowly creeping outward. In the space of two decades, the Breaks had become a slums area as well as a crime ring, and its outer boundaries were composed of streets of makeshift housing where less fortunate citizens of L1, including former soldiers who returned to the colony to find their property and savings destroyed or reclaimed, were forced to relocate. A number of these soldiers, desperate for food and shelter, joined various crime organizations in order to make a living, many ironically losing their lives in the process.

By this time, the Breaks were more than one hundred years old; some of the crime organizations that controlled them even more so. Since the breakdown of the Shionji cartel there had been no one dominant group but instead a handful of organizations fighting for the top. In this crime war, groups could be born, grow powerful, and then vanish all in the space of a week.

Newly added to the battle for domination of the Breaks were the assassin groups. Former soldiers found these groups most attractive, for obvious reasons, and their ranks swelled massively at the end of the war. For the first time, assassin groups began abandoning their "anonymous" identity, emerging into the arena as a surprising and deadly force to be reckoned with. These groups could consist of a single assassin hiding behind a code name, or "guilds" or assassins, such as the Order of Knives Guild, which was the first to break the unwritten assassin law of secrecy and go head to head with the Black Diamond Cartel.

And that was what brought him to this point, Shinobu thought slowly to himself. The growing power of those assassin groups had necessitated a wary alliance between the assassin leaders and the cartel. The law of the Breaks was that there was no law but power, but both groups realized in the end, after much bloodshed, that some sort of code had to be established, or there would be no power to be had. The assassin groups had tabs on the cartel for that very reason. And likewise...the cartel held information about the assassins.

Shinobu had promised the Preventer Sally Po that he would and could conduct the search on L1 for Heero Yuy. Now came the moment of truth - could he actually embrace his past for the sake of a person he had only known for a year?

Take your pick, he thought. What are you going to do? Are you going to run away, like you've done for the rest of your life? Or are you going to actually do something that makes a difference? It's your choice.

I will...I will make a difference. He reached over and dialed the numbers in carefully. Then he swallowed, and hit the send button.

In less then two minutes, he had a live connection to L1 - one of the highest security money could buy - and pain of death could ensure. The screen lit as someone answered.

Shinobu looked into the hard, lined face of Seki Hikaru, Head of the Black Diamond Cartel on L1. He was one of the cruelest and most feared men in the Breaks, a place where fear was a part of daily life. The authorities would have given anything to have the comm number Shinobu had just punched from memory.

Seki's scowl quickly transformed into a wary sort of confusion, then recognition and an expression of surprise. It was not a necessarily pleasant expression of surprise, but that was the least of Shinobu's concerns right now. "Takeru!" the old man exclaimed with a frown, leaning towards the screen. "Where are you, and why the hell are you calling me?"

"Ojiisan. I'm sorry for the bother, but I need your help."

 
ojiisan : Japanese, "grandfather"

 
Scene IV: The Labyrinthine Passages of Time

 
When they came in to check on her that morning, Noin was prepared.

She had pinpointed all the hidden security cameras hidden in the corners of the room quite easily, and from there it was an easy task to calculate each camera's blind spot. The bed was watched, but there was a spot by the dresser and the window that the camera did not reach. The door was also watched, but the area along the side wall was open, where she had engaged in the tap conversation with Etille two nights prior.

The guard checks were routine now. One in the morning at about 700 hours, when she would pretend to be asleep until he left. Another one just before noon, and then one in the midafternoon at about 1500 hours to take her to be questioned, interrogated, or whatever they wanted to call it. The arrogant Lieutenant Colonel Morgan had still not acted out his threat of taking "other measures" if she refused to talk. Not wanting to ruin his good guy image, she supposed, though there was far less of that than he probably though.

Meet me at the center hallway, Etille had said last night when she described the guard patterns and how they could possibly escape. Actually, it had come out more like MT AT CNTR HLWY, but she understood the general meaning behind the consonant sounds. She'd often wondered why Treize would teach such an inelegant language to his elite forces, but she'd come to discover that there was an elegance of sorts to the tap code.

Hidden elegance, Treize would have called it.

The sun outside the window and the digital clock showed that it was 0647, about ten minutes before the morning guard was due. He would probably unlock the door, come in carelessly, glance at the bed to make sure that she was there. Why wouldn't she be?

His carelessness would be his undoing.

Humans are creatures of habit, she heard her flight instructor say. Break out of your habits. Think outside the box. Be prepared to act on instinct.

The key turned in the lock.

She jumped out of bed, eyes going to the clock. It was only 0650. They were early.

Act on instinct.

There was no time to dodge the security cameras now. The lock clicked open, and in two bounds she was by the wall in the little nook behind the door so she would be hidden when it had opened completely.

The door opened and the guard came in. He looked only half-awake and she watched as he hid a yawn behind his hand, glancing at the bed.

And froze.

She gave him no time to think. She leaped forward, slamming the door, grabbing his rifle from his nerveless hands before he had even begun to react, and smashed him over the head with it. He crumpled, unconscious.

Noin proceeded to strip him of all weapons and identification. The uniform was a little too big for her, but it would have to do. The belt could be cinched tighter, and aesthetics was the least of her worries right now. Stuffing all the useful items back into the pants pockets and discarding the unwanted ones, she picked up the rifle. Looked in the mirror briefly.

The uniform was crimson, but for all purposes it was identical to the uniform she had once worn as an officer in the OZ specials. Shoulder boards, double breasted jacket, high collar. The reflection in the mirror stared warily back at her and she blinked.

Lieutenant Lucrezia Noin, pilot.

An alarm sounded.

She tore her eyes away from the mirror and dashed out the door, closing it behind her. Best to give the impression that nothing was amiss, though the security cameras would tell otherwise. Center hallway, Etille had said. She knew the halls well enough from her passage through them to the interrogation sessions. They had blindfolded her at the beginning, but she supposed as she showed no sign of tendency to escape, they had considered it not worth the trouble.

She had been passive.

Zechs...I can do this. I'll show you what kind of soldier I really am.

"Noin!"

She spun around into a combat crouch, pointing the rifle at the voice behind her. A man emerged cautiously from a hallway to her left, panting a bit, with his hands up. He was wearing a sand colored uniform not too different in style from the Preventers uniforms, though it had seen considerably more wear.

"Don't shoot!"

"Etille?" she said warily, not putting down the rifle. Yes. It was him. She could see the resemblance in his face from the picture in the entrance hall of Lake Victoria. Twenty years older, but still recognizable.

"It's me." He smiled, suddenly. His face was lined and worn, but strong. "Pleased to meet you at last. I've heard much about you."

Noin held the gun steady. "Yes?"

Footsteps sounded down the hallway and there was a shout. "We've been spotted," Etille said, sounding unconcerned. "This way."

He sprinted down a side corridor, not even turning to see if she was following him. Noin bit her lip, then broke into a run after him. It was escape or be killed, and she was not about to meet her end here in this prison.

She was going to live.

She was going to see Zechs.

Gunfire behind them, and bullets whistled over her head. She turned as she ran, returning fire, knowing that her aim was not near good enough to hit anything. A deterrence.

"Where are we going?"

"There's an exit two floors down that we can take!" Etille called back. He did not even sound winded. "It's a maintenance entrance and not heavily guarded. If we hurry, we can make it before they close the emergency doors."

"Emergency doors? What-"

"Noin! Here!"

He jerked open a door and grabbed the rifle from her hands. "When you get down the stairs, the code to that door is A64H. Enter it twice and open the door while the light is green."

"How do you-"

"Trust me! Go!" He raised the rifle, returning fire, and Noin pounded down the stairs, questions whirling through her mind. How did Etille know this? How could she trust him?

A64H. A64H. The light was green and she grabbed the door handle, pulling it open. Etille was behind her.

"I locked the door on them. They're going to have to go around the long way. We have some time."

"Wait just a minute!"

He turned, surprised. "What?"

"I'm not going anywhere with you until you tell me exactly what's going on." She placed her hands on her hips and planted herself in the middle of the hallway. "I don't know if I can trust you. How do I know this isn't all a trick?"

"If this were a trick," Etille said wearily, "I would have captured you by now."

"You could be trying to lead me somewhere."

"Why would I?"

"I don't know!" she burst out, frustrated. "I don't even know you! Talking with you through the wall for two nights in tapcode does not make us friends, or even acquaintances. I won't trust someone who won't tell me his plans!"

"I'm who I said I was," Etille said, hefting the rifle to one shoulder. "I was an OZ soldier. Then a member of White Fang during the war. After the war I came here. I was a mine operator, then a manager, then they hired me for my military abilities. I was the security chief in this compound a few years back, which is why I know the codes. Those are permanent codes programmed into the hardware in case of emergency. That's all I know. I'm not a spy. I wish I knew more. All I know is that our pursuers are coming the back way, and we need to leave NOW."

"What are you-" she said, but he was already running, and she forced her tired legs to keep up with him as they raced down the hallway. Alarms were blaring at all intervals along the wall now, and she could hear shouts of pursuit.

"They're here," Etille said, "but so are we." Skidding to a halt at the end of the hall, he punched in a code to the blinking panel and the heavy metal door slid open.

"This is a tunnel. Watch your step. The ceiling gets low sometimes."

He slapped the door panel closed after motioning her into the tunnel, diving in just before it slammed shut. "It's locked now," he said grimly. "They'll have a hard time following us."

Bullets pinged against the door and then the wall shook, as if someone were trying to break it down, but Etille was already running. The ceiling of the tunnel was lined with electric wire and what looked like gas and water pipes. Insulation muffled their footsteps.

"This is an old building, isn't it?" Noin said breathlessly.

"Yes it is. I helped restore it."

"What?"

"Save your questions for later," he said deftly, coming to an abrupt halt, and she barely managed to stop herself before she slammed into his back. There was a wall in front of them, with another blinking panel, and Etille performed the same procedure. The door slid open.

The hangar into which they emerged was larger than most planetside hangars. Obviously built for freight, there were only a few freight vehicles and transports against the walls. But the hangar was not empty.

There were mobile suits. Hundreds of them, standing in neat rows. They were new. She could smell the newness of them in the air, the freshly tightened bolts, the clean grease, the smooth, gleaming paint. Aries, Tauruses, Leos.

"Shit," Noin said.

"I was afraid of this," Etille said. His eyes were hard. "We need to get out of here. I assume you still remember how to pilot a mobile suit?"

She nodded, afraid to speak. The situation was worse than they had feared. She had to contact the Preventers. She had to-

"Good. We're going to go on a little adventure."

She watched him take off across the floor of the hangar before she realized that he meant for her to follow him once again. Catching up to him, she waited until he turned to her.

"I am not good in a Taurus, but I heard you took part in testing them."

"I'll take a Taurus," she said. "Aries are not hard to pilot. Have you piloted before?"

"A bit," he said, looking up at the towering machines. "Anything I don't know, I can figure out."

She did not answer, scrambling up to the Taurus' ingress hatch. As she expected, it was locked, but the security systems on the things were not as good as their creators would like to think. A few keystrokes of the keypad and she was in. Looking over, she saw that Etille had managed to break into his mobile suit as well.

Gunfire.

"They're here," Etille's voice came over her comm, and she settled herself down into her seat, strapping in quickly and powering up. Bullets sprayed against the mobile suit, but bullets were no match for a machine built for space combat.

"I see them. Where are we going?"

"Out," he said vaguely, and she did not have time to answer before the Aries was blasting its way across the hangar.

"Damn you!" she hissed over the comm before jerking the stick of the Taurus forward. For a moment she was in the hangar of the testing facility, with Zechs in the mobile suit beside her, and then the opening of the hangar had passed and she was out on the flightline. Etille's Aries was in front of her...no...behind her...

"They've gotten quick," Etille remarked, and it was only then she realized that it was not Etille's Aries. There was more than one. The enemy's mobile suits.

"Where are we going?"

"Down the road, through the guard gate. Go!"

It took even less time than she had anticipated. The pilots of the A007 mobile suits were no match for her piloting skills, and it was only with a few scratches that she met Etille by the guard gate. The guard tower was smoldering in a heap of twisted metal, and the Aries' gun was smoking slightly.

"Good work, Noin," he said. He sounded pleased.

"I'm not done with you yet!" she snapped. Her hands were shaking on the controls. "What is going on?"

"I'll explain on the way."

"Etille!" Frustrated, Noin slapped the control panel and the Taurus jerked into an unsteady walk.

"I'm sorry." He sounded genuinely sorry. "Everything I told you was true. I wish I could explain now, but our communications might be monitored. I suggest you turn off everything and just follow me. Besides, when we reach....where we're going, you'll understand. Everything."

"I'd better!" she snapped, but only a crackle of static met her ears, and she scowled, slumping back in her seat.

She was exhausted, she realized. She had not slept well last night, and the added tension of running and the adrenaline had not done her body any more good. She could not fall asleep. She had to keep her eyes on the road.

Zechs. She pictured him in her mind. She was going to see Zechs. She had made it this far and she was not going to fail now.

I'm not a weakling, Zechs.

In essence, her life was in Etille's hands now, whether she wanted to trust him or not. She had been trusting him, but she had always been too trusting, and she had been hurt.

Humans are creatures of habit.

When she saw Zechs, she was going to ask him about Etille, and the enemy's new mobile suits, and when he had joined the Preventers, and how could he have come back from the dead. When. Not if. Zechs was alive. They were a team. She would not let him fight by himself.

If there was going to be a war, there would not be one without her.

 
Go to Noin's Commander's Log #5

 
Act IV Part III | Act V Part II | Back to Sainan no Kekka