SHIN KIDOU SENKI GUNDAM WING

SAINAN NO KEKKA
ACT VI, PART I

 
 
Scene I: Story of a Girl

 
Love hurt.

That was something Duo was learning; he'd always laughed at the maudlin songs about love, yet now he knew they contained truth. Watching Hilde quietly tear herself apart was like inflicting the same damage upon his rather abused soul.

He should have been more careful, he thought. He should have recognized Hilde's determination to "protect" him. He knew what an incredibly willful creature she was. He knew that she would do whatever she believed necessary to protect him. Time and again he brought the evidence of the Libra incident to his mind to chastise himself.

Hilde wasn't the cheerful girl he had fallen in love with anymore. True, she had always had a serious side to balance her ever-present optimism, but since she had climbed into Wing Zero, she hadn't smiled or laughed. He missed her smile.

He had barely been able to keep her fed. She would just lie there, in their temporary hideaway, staring at nothing. Every now and then, tears would roll down her face and she would start to whimper like a wounded animal. At night she would cling to him so tightly that he could scarcely breathe. He would hum and sing her the half-forgotten lullabies Sister Helen had sung to him, trying to figure out what he could possibly do to return her to herself.

His own nightmares of Zero had plagued him ever since he had been forced into the system, but Hilde's seemed to be worse. None of the others had ever really discussed their experiences with the System with him; it was something too personal. The system raped your mind, left your soul bare and did its best to twist you into something you were not, or perhaps even more frightening, distilled you to the essence of what you were. Of course they all had had nightmares about it.

Duo wished he had told Hilde what had transpired in those desperate hours he had had wires strapped to his skull as the psychotic military officer had made him a guinea pig. Then maybe she wouldn't have been so eager to jump into the pit of hell for him.

He missed playing around with her.

"You're always wearing such concealing clothes. I wish I could see what you looked like in a bikini," Duo had teased.

Hilde had answered with a flirtatious wink. "I look very nice," she said sweetly, using a voice that told him butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.

Now if he tried she likely would burst into tears.

He looked over at her, where she sat staring up at the green canopy of leaves. "Hilde, I've got to go contact Helena. She needs to relay a message to Sally for us- hopefully Sally can get here and get us the hell off this island. Do you want to go with me?"

She didn't answer.

He sighed, and walked over to kiss her lips gently. "I'll be right back," he promised.

Still no answer.

He glanced back at her as he started to Deathscythe's hiding place. The Gundam was well hidden, and a patrol would have to practically sit down on top of it before they could find it.

Duo crawled into the cockpit, wishing the way he'd laid his Gundam under the thick foliage hadn't placed the pilot's seat flat on its back. While coming out of space, it hadn't seemed such a difficulty. Then again, he'd been thinking of a far more urgent problem.

Now, though, he had to lie down on the seat and stare at the new "ceiling" to engage the vid link. His fingers dialed from memory the code that would key to Helena's secure chanel, and waited impatiently for her to answer.

It took her about three minutes, which meant she had been close by and waiting for his call. Helena tended to be very active with school clubs and government, and was rarely anywhere near her room. He smiled at her half-heartedly.

"Hey, Helena," he said.

She blinked once or twice. "DUO!" she exclaimed. "I wasn't expecting you back for another few hours- the next window isn't till 6, Greenwich. I checked." She was referring to the lag between the spy satellites the World Nation had established to police entry into the Earth's atmosphere. The original plan had been for them to wait for a window to open where the descent couldn't be monitored, but Hilde, in her Zero-induced haze, had ignored that. They had been lucky no one had noticed the two meteors that had fallen.

He nodded slowly. "We ignored those. Something came up that made it imperative to just descend."

"What?" she asked curiously. "Was one of the Gundams damaged?"

His eyes shuttered, trying to conceal the pain. "I'd rather not discuss that on link. If you weren't waiting for me, who were you waiting for?"

"General Po. Shinobu's doing some digging and claims that he'll have a fix on Yuy's location within the next forty eight hours."

Duo blinked. "Let me get this straight. Shinobu, a school kid, has the resources to get the information just about everyone on and off planet is scrambling to find? Information that's worth a very large fortune? Isn't that a little unlikely?"

"I tried to point that out to him, but he just pretended he couldn't understand what I was saying, which is crap. He understands just perfectly, but I can't call him on it. He's hiding something."

Duo gave his braid a yank as he thought. Fidgeting was a good way to get rid of his nervous energy, and there really was very little room to move in the Gundam. It was one of the things he had hated most about being a pilot- the confinement. "Shit. That's exactly what I need- another complication."

"Don't you trust him?" Helena asked hesitantly.

He gave his braid another good tug. "I have to, don't I? He knows too much."

Helena bit her lip as she nodded. "Um, you aren't going to like what else I have to tell you."

Duo smiled at her, looking much older then his seventeen years. "Go ahead. I need to know the whole story."

"Ilene is missing."

"Did she go back to her family?" he wondered aloud, though he knew that was unlikely.

"Checked there. Her father's filed a missing person report. Thinks she might have been kidnapped because she was friends with you."

Duo groaned. Bad news always multiplied itself. On top of Hilde, another of his friends was in trouble. "Was there any sign of force?"

"No. Duo...I don't think she was kidnapped. I think she left. She was angry with you. I've never seen her that angry before. I tried to talk to her, but she felt betrayed that Shinobu and I would help you. She wouldn't even listen to Chris, and nobody hates him!"

"How is Chris?"

"He's mad at me, but he claims he understands. He doesn't believe in war- he and his family are big believers in Queen Relena's absolute pacifism."

"Helena, you don't have to help me anymore. I can contact Sally, and deal with Shinobu. If you want out, get out now."

Her eyes burned intensely, and the vid almost conveyed the heat of them to him across thousands of miles. "Duo... I never back down. I believe in you, and what you're doing. Chris is just going to have to learn to accept that. If he can't, then obviously we're not meant to be."

"I don't want to cause trouble..."

"You'll learn that all couples have their disagreements. Just because they don't see eye to eye on everything doesn't mean they don't love each other."

Her words echoed in his head, and he gave her the first sincere smile he had felt since Wing Zero had risen from its slumber. "Thanks, Helena," he said.

"Anytime," she said. "I'll let General Po know you contacted me- can I have your coordinates?"

He sent her them, then cut the transmission with a final farewell. Shutting his eyes, he took a deep breath, feeling it expand his lungs. He was lonely, and hearing Helena's voice made him realize how much he missed the company of others. Hilde had been very poor companionship lately.

Duo Maxwell needed to have people around him, needed to know that people were watching. As long as there were others for him to entertain, he didn't have to think too much. Thinking was something that led to remembering, and his memories would send him into fits of depression.

Finally he couldn't delay any longer. The cockpit was hot when the air conditioning wasn't on, and his clothes really weren't suited to the climate. He pulled himself out carefully, muttering as his braid got caught on the self-destruct unit. "It's finally decided it wants to destroy something after all," he muttered discontentedly, looking at his braid after retrieving it. Definitely more split ends.

Hilde was just where he had left her, staring at the waves. "Hil?" he said quietly, hoping not to startle her.

He wasn't expecting an answer, but he got one. "I once watched a movie. I don't remember what it was called, or what it was about. I was really young, maybe six. I just remember one scene from it. This girl was staring at the ocean after she'd lost her lover, and she looked so sad. She was wearing a really pretty dress, long and flowing. Then she stepped into the water and started to walk. She kept walking, ignoring the waves, but just going straight. Finally she was over her head, but she didn't stop. For some reason that image has stuck with me."

"Hilde?" he whispered, feeling fear in his heart. If she was actively suicidal, there was nothing he could do. He couldn't be on alert 24/7. If she wanted to kill herself, she would find a way.

She remained calm, rising to her feet with ghostly grace. Her face looked entirely too pale against her dark hair. "I wish I could do that. I wonder how it would feel to have the water was wash away the pain, knowing that nothing will ever hurt again."

He grabbed her waist, tucking her tightly against him. "Wait and ask Heero before you decide," he said. "Heero's died before."

Her eyes turned to him, sparkling for the first time. "It's about Heero, then?" she asked softly.

"It's always been about Heero," Duo answered.

 
Scene II: Toy Soldiers

 
There had been a mobile suit exercise planned for that day, but it rained the night before and when Dorothy woke up that morning, it was still raining. The downpour had lessened to a bearable drizzle, but the skies were gray and clouds smothered the horizon in oppressive silence. She went running around the encampment, doing an hour of loop after loop between damp tents, loose gravel, parked mobile suits. After a change of clothes, she went to file some paperwork before the daily briefing, which was short and was not attended by Gustavson, apparently closeted somewhere with Noin and Etille, discussing politics. She ran the meeting instead.

It rained all day and into the afternoon and into the evening. When nightfall came, if it could be called nightfall, it was still raining. The day had been one blur of wetness and dreary gray, and night was only a condensing of the two.

Milliard was resting. He had had emergency surgery the night before, performed by the Preventers medic team. It wasn't bad, the head medic said. A mild concussion, two broken ribs and a broken arm. The mobile suit had suffered the most damage. Dorothy had dared to inspect the wreckage after it had been salvaged and brought back to camp. The entire cockpit was shattered, pieces of wire still smoldering from the blast which had ripped through the canopy, smashed the control panel, torn off the Taurus' right arm, and dropped beams of red-hot metal directly onto the pilot.

It was a miracle, the medic said, that Milliard was still alive.

Dorothy wasn't surprised. It was Milliard Peacecraft, not any ordinary man, after all, who had been piloting that mobile suit. Any ordinary man would probably not survived the night, but Milliard Peacecraft was different. He had always been different. A petty accident like that would never kill him, try though it might. He had been semi-conscious, but coherent, when he had been dragged out of the cockpit by Noin.

Noin.

For some reason, she was not surprised that Lucrezia Noin was still alive. Noin was like Milliard, in a way. In Dorothy's mind at least, Noin was a superhero, someone larger than life, someone who had battled with the devil and lived to tell about it. The familiar voice over the comm in the middle of battle had not been entirely unexpected, was not as much of a shock as it was a signal. For some reason, it had been more like a jolt back into a world from which she had been living, suspended in time and space, ever since the war had ended.

She didn't like Noin.

Noin had held Milliard's hand during the surgery, while Dorothy was made to stand outside the tent, in the rain, left asking a runner for details about Milliard's condition. Noin had simply taken over as vice commander. Without a word to Dorothy, she had moved herself into the command tent, taken the liberty of searching the files for all the private documents that Dorothy had spent hours scraping together from scanty information reports. In a few hours, Noin had earned the trust and loyalty of the troops to whom Dorothy had spent months proving herself.

It wasn't fair.

I think we're going to change the focus of this operation, Noin had said calmly to her this afternoon, biting the cap of a pen between her teeth and looking like she hadn't slept in weeks. Perhaps she hadn't. We're not looking at the correct targets here.

Perhaps you should get some sleep first, Dorothy suggested delicately. I can handle things here.

Noin's violet gaze was cool and composed and utterly superior. I was there. I know what's going on. Milliard trusts me.

Those had been the key words. Milliard. Milliard trusts me. Milliard didn't trust Dorothy. Oh, no. Dorothy was the young apprentice, the protègé the commander-in-training. Dorothy couldn't handle a mobile suit if her life depended upon it. Dorothy was the rejected soldier, the spoiled heiress intruding into a world where she just didn't belong.

Noin, on the other hand, apparently could do no wrong.

There were certain kinds of people in the world, her grandfather had told her when she was young, who have always been good at everything, and are entirely oblivious to the fact. There were other kinds of people who needed to claw their way up to the top, and knew it too well. Dorothy was one of the latter. Noin and Milliard, they were the former.

They belonged together. She could see it now. It made her angry.

No, perhaps angry wasn't the word. Annoyed, maybe. That she had thrown in so much of her time and energy to this mission, to have it taken away in one night by a woman who she had thought to be dead. By a woman who, by all rights, should have died in the war. Noin was a good soldier, but she had none of Dorothy's political pull, her charm, her money, her sheer amount of resources.

So why was it that Noin always seemed to have the upper hand? What was she, Dorothy Catalonia, heir to the Dermail duchy and noble by birth and heritage, doing wrong?

She had joined the operation because of Milliard. Because she was in love with him, or so she thought she was. She wasn't quite sure if that was the term for it, still, but here she was and there was no way in hell she was going to back out of this while Noin was here trying to usurp the rightful place Dorothy had worked so hard to earn.

No way in hell.

If she couldn't have Milliard, Dorothy reasoned, no one would.

The entrance to the medical tent was closed, but when she tugged on it, it gave and she hesitantly crept through the opening. A single bare bulb burned in one corner and the lonely figure on the cot at the far end seemed to be asleep. Her boots crunched on the gravel and she felt like an intruder creeping towards a forbidden destination, her unwelcome presence breaking the peaceful silence.

As she neared the side of the bed, the figure turned slightly.

"Oh...Dorothy."

Milliard sounded glad to see her, but she could tell that she wasn't the one he wanted to see. It was Noin that he had been waiting for, Noin that he wanted to talk to. Noin, Noin, Noin.

"How are you feeling?" she said softly, swallowing her own jealousy. There was no point in bringing it up to him now. It wouldn't mend things between them, and their relationship was already strained as it was.

"Better," he said. There were lines around his eyes and his face was haggard. He looked very old. A pause. "How are you?"

She shrugged. "As always. I'm trying to keep things running, but-"

"But?" he prodded, opening his eyes fully and looking at her through the thick curtain of golden bangs that had become forever entwined in her mind with memories of him. Even when he had cut his hair, the bangs remained.

"Never mind," she said.

He moved one arm out from under the covers. "Come on, Dorothy. Something's bothering you. I want to know."

"No you don't," she said shortly. "It's all right."

"Look, I want to listen. You're my second in command. I need you to be focused on the mission."

"Oh, is that it?" she bit out. "Focused on the mission. That's all. I see."

"Dorothy-"

She flung her arms over her head in a dramatic gesture of despair. "Why do you bother talking to me? I know you don't think much of me anyway. You don't have to pretend, all right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Dorothy."

"Well," she spat, "maybe you should ask Noin!"

There was a stunned silence. When he spoke, his voice was hard. "I don't see how Noin has anything to do with this."

"Oh, you don't do you? Noin's your little protègé isn't she? She can do no wrong. I know how you feel. Fine. Don't lie to me. I'm sick of your lies, Milliard, sick of them!"

He pushed himself up on the bed. He was angry. He didn't have the angry look on his face, but she could tell. Beneath the bandages on his chest, his heart was beating fast. "When have I ever lied to you? Dorothy, I gave you this opportunity. I chose you to come with me."

"And that makes me special, I suppose," she sneered. "To be picked by you. I suppose I should grovel at your feet and worship you because out of the billions of people on this God-forsaken earth, you chose me to come with you!"

"You were the one who accepted!"

"Well, I was wrong! Maybe I didn't expect to come on this operation and be treated like a second class enlisted member who can't even tie her own shoe. I'm an officer. I'm your second in command. I expect to be treated according to my rank. That's what I deserve."

"I've never treated you-"

Her hands twitched and she barely refrained from bringing up one hand and slapping him in the face, hearing that satisfying smack. "Oh, lie to me some more, Milliard. Lie to me as you sit here and try to convince me that I mean something while your little bitch Lucrezia Noin takes away everything that meant anything to me here!"

There was a horrible feeling bubbling up in her stomach as the words tumbled out of her mouth, but it was too late now to take them back, and as she saw the hurt in his eyes, she realized she had wounded him deeper than she had ever wanted to.

He didn't speak.

She curled her sweating palms to the side of her pants, rubbing them up and down the scratchy material. For one brief, insane moment, she envisioned her silk evening gown and silk gloves, imagined bringing one gloved hand down to her side and touching the gleaming material with one long finger. And then the image vanished and Milliard's eyes were staring at her, expressionless now.

"I wanted to fix things, Dorothy," he said. "I really did."

"Milliard-" she began desperately, hoping in some way to beg his forgiveness, but his sharp voice cut into her plea like a sword.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I believe our time together is over."

His voice was cold. Final.

"Milliard," she said, her voice cracking. "Milliard I didn't-"

"Get out."

"Milliard-"

"Get OUT!" he roared, lunging out of the bed at her, and she could see the burning fury in his features now. She stared at him, fear trickling down her spine. She had never seen him this angry before - not when she had disobeyed orders and ordered a direct hit on the Peacemillion, not even when she had tried to stop him from firing on Tallgeese. This was not Milliard Peacecraft.

This was Zechs Merquise.

"Fine," she said quietly, backing away from the cot, putting a safe distance between him and her. "I'm leaving. I'm going to the nearest town. I'm taking the next transport for Earth. And I'm not coming back."

She didn't wait for his reply. She didn't want to. The air was cold and wet and she half ran, half stumbled out of the tent, not watching where she was going, not caring. She was crying, she realized. Dorothy Catalonia did not cry. She was not a weakling. Lucrezia Noin cried. Relena Peacecraft cried. She was stronger than then, better than them.

She had been stupid. She hadn't wanted to say that. She didn't like Noin, but there was a certain line of propriety that she had always been careful never to cross...but today somehow she had. And it had cost her a career.

A career, and a friend.

The look on Milliard's face, the completely horrified expression of disbelief and shame, of utter betrayal, loomed in her mind like the haunting figure of a ghost, his eyes burning into her.

I'm sorry. I believe our time together is over.

How could he say that, after all they'd been through together? How could he simply desert her for Noin? Dorothy Catalonia was not a woman. She was just a silly girl, irreponsible, easily replaceable.

She was just a toy soldier.

The wind picked up, blowing her hair into her eyes and she stumbled, fell, tripping over a loose rock. There was a flash of pain as her knee hit the ground but she didn't care, laying where she had fallen, staring up at the sky.

"It's going to rain," she whispered. The tears ran from the corner of her eyes down to the insides of her ears. She could feel the heat stream down her cheeks, hear the quiet ticks of water drip to the already wet ground.

She could take a mobile suit. Right now, right here. Milliard would never know. She could leave the camp, go to the nearest town and hide the mobile suit, buy a shuttle ticket, and be home in a day. It was that simple. That easy.

It was that hard.

 
Scene III: Always Two Steps Behind

 
Fatima bint Narish.

She was a woman whom Une had never liked. To put it frankly, Une considered her a world-class bitch. She knew that Fatima shared a similar opinion of her, but it really didn't concern her.

The two women - both among the most powerful people in the world - had met before, and it was a case of instant dislike. Both recognized that the other was a force to be reckoned with, and had declared an unspoken truce. Neither messed with the other, and life went on, just peachy dandy.

Until now.

Fatima had crossed that unseen line and ventured onto Une's turf, and Une would be damned if she was going to let her get away with it. Heads would roll, blood would be spilt, but whatever it took, Une fully intended on reminding Fatima -and everyone else- exactly what it was a bad idea to cross the woman who had been Treize's second in command.

She had selected Carrington to lean on the World Nation for one simple reason: she was a ball-breaker with the tenacity of a pit bull. Carrington was a career officer, and knew her stuff. Still, she had the brusque manner of one who had clawed her way up through sheer efficiency, one who saw little point in the niceties that most people took for granted. If she hadn't been so damn good at what she did, she never would have earned her commission.

Une sighed as she prepared to call her. Carrington wasn't a pleasant person to deal with on a good day, and Une certainly wasn't having one of those. The screen flicked on, and Une was treated to the sight of a woman in her mid-forties glaring back at her. "This had better be- oh, it's you."

Not many people would dare take such an exasperated tone with their superiors; fewer still were the ones who would take it with General Une. Carrington, though, didn't give it a second thought. Everything about her said that she didn't give a damn what others thought. Her hair looked like it had been hacked at randomly with a pair of scissors, her uniform had seen better days, and she'd tell you exactly what she thought of the situation. Her forthright manner was refreshing in a way. Une always appreciated it AFTER she was done dealing with her.

"Yes, Carrington. I need to know how you're doing on the Winner situation."

Carrington gave her a glare. "I'm on it. The answer hasn't changed since I submitted my report ten minutes ago."

Une shut her eyes, feeling like she was dealing with a bratty three year old. "Carrington, this is a bureaucracy. I'm not going to see your report for another two hours- it has to go through channels."

Carrington sighed. "Quite simply, Winner's arrest was illegal. His people should be able to spring him in a few hours - then WE arrest him. The World Nation doesn't have the authority to arrest people, but we do. I've selected some people who I think you should send- it's General Po's call, but the names are on your list. You could override her if it comes down to it."

"The last thing I need to do right now is alienate Sally by stepping on her toes. If you chose the right people - and I'm sure you did - she'll most likely okay it as long as they aren't on assignment somewhere vital."

Carrington nodded. "I also included my own take on the situation. I know it wasn't asked for, but I think it might be useful to you."

"Oh?"

"Winner's crimes, if they were crimes, took place before the founding of the World Nation. According to international law, he can't be found guilty under the Constitution, since it didn't exist when he destroyed those colonies. The only ones who MIGHT have the jurisdiction to prosecute is the L4 colony cluster, and we both know that the boy practically owns them. It'll be a lengthy legal process, but he should get away clean. No one is going to be able to make any of the charges stick."

Une's smile lit her tired face. "Carrington, I could kiss you. That's the first bit of good news I've had in ages. Did you run that by our lawyers, see if they agreed?"

"Ran it past Dallas, and he pretty much concurred. Thing is, bint Narish has to know that, too. She has her own legal experts. What I can't figure out is why she's doing this."

"I can," Une said darkly, her good mood destroyed. She hated politics. "Keep on the case, Carrington, until I tell you otherwise."

"Yes. ma'am." The vid screen flicked off.

Une rolled her eyes. Carrington had been remarkably polite, for Carrington.

"She's stalling," she murmured to the empty room, then walked towards her private washroom to get a drink. She hadn't been eating well, and had taken her belt in a notch. With a sigh she turned off the lights, fumbling around in the darkness. She didn't want to see herself in the mirror; she was positive she looked like a wreck, and certainly nowhere near the image of competency she wanted to project.

She splashed water onto her face, then retreated back to her office, trying to plan her next step. Quatre is out of my hands at the moment, she thought. I need to concentrate on the other pilots, see what I can do for them.

She keyed up Li's latest report on screen and frowned. There had been no signs of either Yuy or Chang, and Maxwell had practically vanished into thin air. Catherine had no clue where Barton had gone to, though Li reported there had been periodic sightings of the enigmatic young man across Europe, Asia, and the northern most parts of Africa. Trowa was either on the run or planning something, and Une was willing to wager that it was the second.

She bit her lip, wondering how the hell they all managed to hide so well. Surely by now they would have slipped up! The rewards offered for information on their whereabouts were fantastic, and the entire world was looking for them! Tabloids, serious news sources, governments, vigilantes- everyone wanted their piece. Too bad there wasn't enough to go around.

Her screen flashed, beeping to signal that there was an incoming message. "Yes?" she asked.

Gils-Reve sounded slightly shaken. "Incoming transmission from A007. It's Major Noin."

She was on her feet in an instant, slamming her hands onto the flat surface of her desk. "WHAT?"

"Major Noin," Gils-Reve said. He looked stunned. "General, I-"

"I thought she was dead," Une whispered, not knowing whether she should laugh or cry, trying as best as she could to keep the warring emotions from her face. "I thought-"

Gils-Reve's expression was troubled, and his voice was hesitant when he spoke. "Should I-"

"Patch it through!" she ordered, clasping her hands together to keep them from shaking. Gils-Reve's face disappeared, leaving a blank screen and a blinking status bar that took entirely too long to load.

A flicker, and a familiar face. The first thing that flashed through Une's mind was that Noin had lost weight. Her hair was a touch too long, and her uniform had seen better days, but aside from that, she looked exactly as Une had remembered her, aside from faint lines around her eyes. "Major Lucrezia Noin reports."

Une swallowed, unable to speak for a moment, feeling a wave of dizzy relief pass over her, then leaned towards the screen, unable to keep the tension from her voice. "Noin, can the formalities. Where in blazes have you been?"

Noin actually managed to smile. "Sorry to make you worry. I'm fine."

"FINE? Radio communication cut off for months, and you're FINE?"

"I was captured by the A007 military in a raid...my fault, really." Noin shrugged. "Doesn't really matter now. Dorothy told me that everyone assumed I was dead; I'm rather surprised, since I thought Commander Morgan would have tried to use me as a bargaining chip."

"Commander Morgan?"

"My kind...host while I was in captivity." Noin's voice was bitter.

Une's eyes widened. "My Lord, Noin, are you all right? Did they..." she couldn't bring herself to say the words.

Noin shook her head. "As I said, I'm fine. He threatened torture, but as I thought, didn't have the guts to actually carry it out." She snorted. "Spineless, all of them."

Despite her brave words, Une didn't have to be a mindreader to pick up the uneasiness in Noin's voice when she spoke of Morgan, or her captivity on A007. Even if anything had happened, Noin wouldn't tell her. She was a fighter, like all of them, but fighting was the last thing that would help her right now. "Noin, if anything happened to you, I need to know."

"Nothing happened." Noin smiled. Her eyes were honest. "Seriously. They didn't do anything to me. The base, or whatever it was, apparently wasn't equipped with anything remotely resembling a cell, so they stuck me in some guest room. It wasn't bad. I had my privacy."

'If you say so," Une said, still unconvinced, but it didn't matter right now. "I'm...I'm glad to see you, Noin."

"I am too," Noin said. Her smile broadened, and she looked surprised. "Damn. That's the first time I've smiled in...ages."

"How's your situation? I'm assuming you're reporting for Milliard as well?"

A nod. "We're a bit on the low morale side, but everything seems all right so far. Zec-Milliard was injured in the last battle-"

"INJURED?"

"Relax," Noin soothed. "He's all right. A few broken ribs, but he's doing better. I'm handling a lot of the work right now while he recovers, but according to the medic, he'll be out of bed in a few more days." She laughed. "I'm hoping they're right."

Une shook her head, running through strategies and discarding one after the other. "I need to know...no, what I really need to know is, how far are we from capturing their main base? Or, how far are they from catching up to you?"

Noin didn't respond for a few seconds, thinking. "I believe...we're at a stalemate. You know we have some of their mobile suits, but capturing a few mobile suits doesn't mean that they've stopped producing them. I think there have been some new factories set up that our light map doesn't show."

"So...?" Une prodded.

"I don't think either of us is winning. I don't know what's going on. Zechs - Milliard - would be the one you need to ask, but he can't come to the vid right now, obviously."

"Can I ask you an opinion on something?"

"Sure," Noin said. She looked wary.

Une chewed her lip, trying to think of how to phrase the question. "Do you think...what do you think the A007 military is trying to get out of this?"

"Good question. I don't know. I was hoping you might."

Une heaved a sigh. "If our presence there is going to complicate things, I'd rather we just pull out. I don't know why the A007 military is acting the way it is, but it looks like we're not going to get any more information than we already have, and-"

"There's someone I'd like you to meet," Noin said suddenly, and before Une could ask her what was so important as to interrupt her sentence, Noin's face was gone and a man's face appeared in front of her, older, serious, very familiar.

"I know you!" she gasped. "You're-"

The man bowed slightly. "Dermand Etille, at your service. I was fortunate enough to have escaped from the A007 base with Major Noin. I'm glad to see that you Preventers have not neglected the old OZ training."

"Thank...you," she said warily. Dermand Etille had been one of the famous names, one of the people every OZ trainee was required to hear about in the boring lectures given by the professor of military history. It was a good thing she had paid attention in class.

"I heard you asking Noin about the motives of the A007 military. I believe though I can't answer that question, at least I can speculate, being a former member of that military."

Une blinked. "Really," she managed.

He nodded solemnly. "Really. I don't know what their goals are, but I am of the opinion that the A007 military uprising is not a single, isolated cause."

"Meaning," Une said carefully, "that someone provoked them?"

"Or that someone or something larger is behind them. People like Commander Morgan are young, idealistic officers. Fortunately or unfortunately, people like him are all that the A007 military has got at the top of their chain of command."

"So you're thinking that they're being influenced...bribed?"

"They might be. Again, I have no proof."

"And just how do-" she began, but Etille cut her off.

"The floor is Major Noin's. I thank you for listening." And he was gone.

"Damn," she swore, and Noin's face was apologetic.

"That's all I could get out of him too. I don't think he wants to talk about what he used to do."

Une sighed. "I can't say I can let it go, but I can say I know how it feels. If I had a little more information, I could probably do a lot more for you over there. Unfortunately, our resources are stretched woefully thin, and then there's the pilot situation."

"Zechs told me," Noin said. "About that newspaper reporter."

Une nodded. "It's getting steadily worse. Quatre's been arrested."

"WHAT?" Noin demanded. "When?"

"About a day or so ago. Long story, but the short version is, he's probably going to be tried. It's bad, Noin, it's bad. Duo's gone missing as well...you know that he was at that school in the US. Cliffside? There was a riot..."

"He wasn't injured, was he?" Noin sounded alarmed.

"He's fine, but gone from Cliffside. Left that day right after the riots, I believe."

"He's probably hiding."

"Most likely. I have no clue where the rest of them are. Disappeared off the face of the earth."

"I go away for a month and it all goes to hell," Noin murmured. "Well, the best I can tell you is that we're trying our best over here...but in all honesty, I don't think we're going to be able to do much good."

"When you think you've done enough," Une said, "I'll pull you out of there. Just give me the word. I'm about to give the World Nation the finger on this matter and tell them to go screw themselves." She snorted at the surprised look Noin gave her at her crude language. "It's ridiculous to waste our resources on a backwater colony revolt when there are more pressing matters we need to deal with here."

"But what if Etille-"

"Even if he's right," Une said firmly, "I can't afford to be jumping at shadows. There's no time, Noin. You can understand that, right?"

Noin nodded and there was sympathy in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'd give anything to be there, to be helping you and the pilots..."

"I know. As I said, I'll pull you out of there if it gets any worse."

"Thanks," Noin said. "I have to go...there's work waiting."

"I'm glad to see you again," Une said, trying to smile. It was hard. "Give my regards to Milliard and Dorothy."

Noin nodded, saluting, then flickered off the screen. The room was silent, the hum of the air conditioning kicking in with a loud bang through the walls.

"Oh, it's gone to hell, Noin," she said, leaning back in her chair and trying to stretch tired muscles. She need another cup of coffee. She needed more headache medicine. She needed the world to go away and let her enjoy a long, deserved rest. "It's gone to hell...the problem is now figuring how we can get it back."

 
Go to Une side Stille Nacht

 
Scene IV: Lament for Innocence Lost

Atsuki had forgotten what life with the family had been like.

Or perhaps she hadn't let herself remember. Everywhere there was splendor and the understated elegance that practically screamed MONEY! to her street-wise eyes. Carpets that would have kept her fed in the Breaks for months had she pawned them to the right person, priceless paintings that would have most of her old crowd drooling at the sight of them, rare, custom-made furniture found nowhere else in the world or the colonies. Even the bottle of shampoo she was using cost over ten thousand yen. She tried hard not to think of the girls she had left behind, knowing that, more likely then not, they would all be dead within a few years.

Life expectancy for a prostitute in the Breaks was short. Though all of them were careful as they could be, there was a limit to how careful a whore could be and still make enough money to survive. So they took risks. They had to. And a girl would almost invariably slip up and a perv would beat her to death, or do something even worse to get off. Atsuki had seen what had been left after one such incident. She had thought herself hardened to the reality of life, but the very memory still turned her stomach.

Still, she was free. She realized now how foolish she had been to turn away from her family, especially after seeing Jaffa's heartfelt relief. But that was because Jaffa thought she was getting her sister Lilah back.

Atsuki almost felt sorry for her. Lilah was dead, as dead as the autumn leaves. All that was left was a broken woman, a woman who didn't believe in happily-ever-afters.

No, she was lying to herself. Somewhere, deep inside, she must have still harbored the faint hope for a happily ever after. Jaffa was right; there always was hope. At least, for those with money.

She looked at the clothes the servant had laid out for her. None of the clothes she had left behind would have fit anymore, and one of the Winner Women wasn't about to be seen wearing the grubby outfit of a street prostitute. The clothes she had arrived with had been whisked away, probably to the nearest dumpster. Since the Maguanac compound, despite being stocked with many of Quatre's belongings, didn't have a large selection of woman's clothing, Reeshya was loaning her some.

Reeshya was a good four inches taller then she, and more curvaceous to boot. The long dress didn't fit right, and the shawl was awkward. When she had been Lilah, she had rarely worn the more traditional Arabian garments some of the sisters, like Reeshya, favored. It was hard to remember how everything should hang, and she'd found the veils too annoying to bother with. Part of her felt like making adjustments, but she couldn't do that to her sister's clothes.

The fine silk caught on her rough hands as she slipped it over her emaciated frame. She had to tie a scarf around her waist to take in some of the slack and keep it from dragging on the floor.

She heard laughter from behind her, and spun around. She didn't like having anyone at her back; like a war veteran, she wanted to keep her eyes focused on what was going on around her.

The again, she WAS a war veteran. She had survived the Breaks.

Reeshya walked in, wearing similar clothing in a deep maroon. She looked graceful and every inch the lady, something that made Atsuki want to cringe.

"Neesan!" she said joyfully, and all of the sudden Atsuki found her arms full, her younger sister clinging to her like a little leech. "I missed you so much!"

"I'm sure," Atsuki said, uncomfortable. Scorn she would have been able to handle, but she wasn't sure how to deal with affection.

Reeshya looked at her, eyes narrowing. "Who are you?" she whispered.

"What?"

"You're not Lilah," Reeshya said. The Arabian woman picked up her older sister's hand and entwined their fingers together. "You don't feel right."

It came to Atsuki then. It was another thing she had forgotten, the uchuu no kokoro. Only a few of the Winners had it, and she hadn't been one. The second sight, some would have called it. Knowing the heart of others, feeling their pain and happiness with them. Reeshya had it, apparently. She hadn't remembered. "I thought only Quatre, Talat and Qamar had the family legacy."

Reeshya's dark eyes locked on her older sister's. "They are the strongest, but about half of us have it to some extent. Don't skirt the issue, though. You don't feel like Lilah."

Atsuki winced. "That's because I'm not her. Only the shell remains."

Reeshya's fingers tightened, and Atsuki was surprised at how warm they had gotten. "What are you talking about?"

She hadn't told Jaffa. She had intended on not bringing up the past. She could lie to Jaffa, she could lie to herself, but she couldn't lie to Reeshya, for Reeshya would know she was lying. "My name is Atsuki."

"Atsuki? That's Japanese!" Reeshya said, sounding offended. The Winners had always been proud of their Arabian origins.

"So? I lived in the Breaks. Having a Japanese name was safer."

Reeshya paled. "The Breaks? What the Hell were you doing there?"

"Making a living."

Reeshya jerked away as though burned. Empaths were touch-sensitive, and the rolling waves of emotions her older sister was projecting made her feel sick to her stomach. "What did you do that was so horrible that it makes you hate yourself so much?"

She was so innocent, Atsuki realized. Reeshya, Jaffa, her sisters...they were all so innocent still. Even if they lived for a thousand years, even if they lived forever, none of them would ever experience the aching rawness, the harshness of life that she had lived while in the Breaks.

This - these clothes, these riches, this house, these lands - this was not life. This was merely a glittering reflection, an illusion, a play-stage on which those who believed in their innate superiority acted out their little fantasies, living and dying without even once experiencing reality.

She had been like that once.

For a moment she considered sparing Reeshya the harsh details, but if she couldn't tell her sisters, then who could she tell? "The question is, what DIDN'T I do?" Her lip twisted as she spoke her next words. "I was a whore. I slept with men -and a few women, for that matter- for money. I did drugs, I dealt them, and I even was a go-between for some of the assassins in Bourei no Basho. The only think I didn't do was kill anyone, and that was because I was too weak." She ignored the shocked look on her sister's face, pushing on relentlessly. "I'm not the sister you remember, Reeshya. I'm a slut and an junkie and I'll offer my services to the highest bidder. Can you handle that?"

"Neesan..."

Reeshya's voice was soft, sad, and for some reason that made her feel even angrier. Sympathy was one of the things she hated most. "Why am I even telling you this? You have no idea what my life was like!"

"Why don't you tell me?"

"Because you'd never understand."

Reeshya blinked and pressed her hands against her heart. "It hurts..." she whispered. Then she shook her head. "I'm sorry...Quatre is on the vid. He's talking to Jaffa right now, but if you hurry, you can at least say hello."

Atsuki nodded, and followed Reeshya out of the room. The conversation was over...for now.

Reeshya led her through a winding labyrinth of corridors, and all too soon she found herself outside of an office. "Go on in. I'll wait for you out here."

Jaffa was seated in one of the stuffed chairs behind a desk, listening to the young blonde man who was speaking on the vid. Atsuki walked forward, almost in a trance.

"Quatre?" she said, looking at him, and feeling her heart break. She had missed seven years of his life, seven years during which time had made him into a man. His eyes didn't shine with the same innocence anymore, but then again, neither did hers. Time was cruel.

He blinked once, and she could see he recognized her on sight, something that Jaffa, the sister who kept track of them all, hadn't been able to do. "Lilah?" he said, his face shocked. "You're.... alive?" His voice was full of disbelief, but then a smile dawned on his face that made her feel amazingly guilty. "It's so good to see you," he said, and she could practically feel the goodwill he was broadcasting.

Not that she could. She wasn't one of the family with the extra sense. She used to be desperately jealous, but ever since becoming Atsuki, she had been glad of it. She would have committed suicide a hundred times over had she been able to feel the misery of the Breaks' residents. "I came back," she said, feeling the tears start in her eyes again. She'd spent so much time crying that she was amazed that her eyes hadn't dried to dust. "I came back," she whispered, remembering a late evening conversation so long ago, when both of them were innocent.

"Neechan...." he whispered. "You came back. I knew you would, I guess," he said, smiling. "Are you okay?"

It would have been easy to shrug him off with the 'I'm fine' most people would have expected. It was what people said after a long time apart. But she had had too much of lies- she wouldn't lie anymore. Not to him, not to herself. "No. But I think I will be."

His smile showed that he understood, that he was grateful for her honesty. "I can't talk to you for long, Lilah. I need to talk to Yaminah about my defense." He lowered his eyes, and she was struck by how much they looked alike. Looking at Quatre was like seeing how she would have been, had she been born male.

"It's okay," she reassured him. "It's just- nice to talk to you. I missed you."

She was surprised that that was the truth. Of all her family, he was the one she had missed most, the only one she had let herself worry about. She had always wondered if he would be able to escape their father's tyranny. Quatre had been the perfect son, and she had never been able to imagine him finding it within himself to rebel.

And yet he, her own little brother, had become a Gundam pilot.

Yet another case of her lousy perception of people. If Quatre, one of those she knew best, had it within him to do something so drastically different then her pre-conceived notion of him, then who else had she misjudged?

She watched him kiss the fingertips of his right hand and press them to the screen. Without a thought, she echoed his movements, remembering how their father had done the same when they had been younger. "I can't be with you right now, my children, but here's a kiss you can keep until I see you again." Their father hadn't been a bad man; just controlling. They had loved him.

Yaminah gently touched her shoulder. "I need to talk to him now, love," she said.

Atsuki nodded and rose to her feet, leaving the room without a backward glance.

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