A.N.: Hey, it can't be said enough. God bless America.
# # #
You say you want a revolution
Well you know
we all want to change the world
You tell me that it's evolution
Well you know
We all want to change the world
But when you talk about destruction
Don't you know you can count me out
Don't you know it's gonna be alright
~The Beetles 'Revolution 1'
Meaty fingers pinched down on the sides of his jaw, wrenching his head around and forcing the young boy to see his captor.
"Look here," the older man said, "just don't struggle and maybe it'll all turn out for the best. You hear me?"
Nanashi shook his head violently - or as violently as the man's grip on his jaw allowed - and attempted to kick the elder male off with his feet.
"Don't touch me!" The exclamation was meant to be firm but came off as little more than a whine.
He truly was frightened. For the first time in a while, Nanashi could say that he was terrified. He had battled with this mercenary group - but that had all been in the safety of mobile suits. Here, out in the open with just his body attempting to fight off this man who easily had two hundred pounds on him... he was scared.
Such unwelcome advances had happened before - but they had never amounted to anything because the men were normally stone drunk and had the balance and menace of a blundering teddy bear. But this man appeared perfectly sober. And that was scary.
"Kid," the man breathed, "I've had a very rough day... don't try me."
"Please," Nanashi whispered, closing his eyes. "Please let me go."
The man snorted, rumpling Nanashi's oddly styled hair in a semi-affectionate manner. "You say that now, but trust me - you'll like it later."
I don't want to like it! Nanashi's mind cried. I'm not a... what did they call it? I'm not a slut! The younger boy vocalized this by beating his small fists up against the man's chest as the man leaned down to gather Nanashi's mouth in a crushing embrace.
A keening whine came from the back of Nanashi's throat, and his eyes started to tear. No no no no no! Let me go, I don't like this!
Fingers wormed their way down into Nanashi's flightsuit, making the younger boy's flesh want to crawl off his bones. He had completely given up and was about to resign himself to whatever the man wanted, when -
The man was suddenly flying through the air. He landed on his back, dazed, before looking where Nanashi had crumpled, scrunched his brow, spat, swore, and left in a huff.
"Pedophile," a gruff voice remarked.
Nanashi stayed completely still. Just because one man had been driven off did not mean that another one wouldn't try anything.
"Kid," the voice said again, "I don't appreciate talking to the back of your head."
Slowly Nanashi turned around and came face to face with the last human being that he would have expected to see -
A woman.
Long, untamed hair of an indistinguishable color flopped to her sides in dreadlocks and braids. She wore a grease-stained gray jumpsuit and clenched a long-handled wrench in one hand. She had obviously come from the Mobile-Suit hangar next door.
Absently polishing the wrench with a rag, she looked at Nanashi. "You any hand with mechanics?"
Still shaken, Nanashi swallowed a few gulps of air, while nodding. "Yes ma'am."
When she jerked her head, little flecks of encrusted dirt flew from her hair. "Come on then - you can give us a hand."
She started to walk towards the large concrete hangar. Still trying to grasp his bearings, Nanashi heaved off of the gutter floor and tottered after the woman.
It was a huge hangar. The building itself had a false front - it was tall enough and the false front was detailed enough to give the illusion of a skyscraper. The back of the hangar was completely opened, and nearly five stories tall. Rickety metal stairs and catwalks entwined and knotted like spider strings. Nanashi, despite his excellent piloting skills and use to heights, felt himself go dizzy with vertigo.
A few anti-alliance members with checklists stood guard near the back, armed with pistols and an array of knives. When the woman walked past with Nanashi in her wake, a few of them nodded to her.
"They're guards," the woman explained as Nanashi carefully avoided a wary look from a man with a knife. "They make sure that no Alliance members ever find out about the back entrance. If they do..." A dragging finger across the woman's throat emphasized the consequence.
Nobody asked questions, however. A very large cleaning jumpsuit was pressed into Nanashi's hands and he was instantly ushered into the main chamber.
The largest mobile suit that Nanashi had ever seen stood there, half erected. Staring at it, Nanashi fumbled into the jumpsuit. The woman handed him a wrench, smirking.
"See that machine, kid?" asked the woman. "That there hunk-o'-clunk is going to save us from the tyranny of the Alliance. Come on. We're tightening bolts in the upper pressure chamber."
"What is it?" breathed Nanashi. Nanashi had learned that being verbal around most people wasn't a good idea - a closed mouth never gathered any feet. But with this woman, it seemed somehow okay to ask questions.
"It's a Gundam," the woman answered, clomping up some metal stairs. Nanashi reflexively winced at the noise - why was this woman so loud? "Model Heavyarms. Not the fastest one she'll be - but she's got enough ammunition to choke a goat."
After explaining, the woman leapt over the guardrails to the waist portion of the Gundam, where two other men were already crawling around. Nanashi, because of his smaller size, had to slip between the bars of the guardrail and take a leap of faith out to the Gundam.
"Well, lookit here," said one of the men, tightening a nut with his wrench, "looks like it's the pretty brigade."
"There's more pretty here than you can handle, Marco," warned the lady, hands on hips. "Kid, start looking for loose ones and tighten 'em."
Wordlessly obeying, Nanashi bent over his work and started picking out loose bolts. After a while, the woman came over.
"I hadn't asked your name yet. It's getting bland calling you 'Kid'," the woman said, wiping the grease off her hands.
"Don't have a name," Nanashi grunted. "Nanashi's what they call me."
"Hm," the woman hummed. "Well, I think I've heard of you before. You're the one that destroyed an entire squad of Alliance soldiers by yourself, aren't you?"
"That would be me."
"Anyway, they call me Sarah." Elegantly, Sarah cleared her throat and spat the contents over the side. "We need to talk."
"About what?" Nanashi was no fan of talking.
"About your fighting style." She turned her head and grinned at a man walking by with a clipboard. "Hey Mike!" she roared. "How they hanging?"
Mike nodded his hat towards the woman. "One lower than the other," he replied.
Rolling her eyes, Sarah turned back to the boy. "Anyway. Do you know how to fight?"
"Well, you said so yourself that I could take out an entire squad of-"
"Dumbass." Nanashi winced at Sarah's statement and waited for the blow that usually came with that remark. When none came, he looked at her quizzically. "I'm not talking about being able to pilot an MS. I'm talking about Kung-Fu and all that Oriental shit. Or just being able to wham somebody over the head with something and getting the hell out of Dodge. Can you fight?"
Nanashi didn't reply. Sarah made a satisfied smirking noise.
"I thought so. Listen boy, I can tell by looking at you that you're one of those pretty boy figurines that the other guys get hard just looking at."
Nanashi screwed up his face. He didn't exactly like being called 'pretty boy' for one thing, and for another - Sarah had a rather grating personality.
"How old are you anyway?" Sarah had stopped working altogether and was lounging comfortably in the wiring of the Gundam.
Nanashi shrugged, reaching his skinny arm far down into the Gundam, spying a loose bolt. "I don't know for sure. I think I'm nine."
"So. A nine-year-old pretty boy that can't defend himself against a bunch of sex-starved burly men who outweigh you and out experience you." Sarah arched an eyebrow. "Boy, are you even still a virgin?"
Nanashi blushed hotly, looking up at this woman. "Yes."
"Well, better go to the church and start thanking your lucky stars individually and by name that you haven't been fucked senseless yet."
"I'll go pray right now," Nanashi snapped in a rare outburst. Realizing what he had done, he winced again, bracing himself for the blow with the wrench. Nothing. Opening his one visible eye, Nanashi blinked. What was with this woman, and why was she being so... so nice?
"That's the spirit. Listen," she grabbed him by his forearms and pulled him to face her, "buddy, you have some things to learn. Take it from me as the only woman in a group of mercs - unless you want to be camp whore, you want to know how to fight." She flicked her knotted mats of hair behind her back, sending waves of dirty-human-smell towards the young boy. "That's a bona-fied opportunity kid. I'll teach you how to defend yourself if you'll help me out."
Nanashi raised an eyebrow, shaking his arms free of the woman's grasp. So here was the catch. Somebody started cursing heavily nearby, and Sarah rolled her eyes. "What do you want me to do in return?" he asked carefully, choosing his words as to not promise anything.
"Teach me some of your MS secrets."
It took little or no consideration. Being able to fight off those hideous men in exchange for easy-to-teach tactics? It was a dream come true. Nanashi handed back the wrench.
"I have to be back at camp now. You'll be here tomorrow?"
Sarah smiled, nodded and took the wrench. "You have the strangest way of agreeing to things... and you're so polite. Stay sweet, Nanashi."
Polite? wondered Nanashi as he climbed down. He had thought of himself in several ways over the years, but polite surely wasn't one of them.
This Sarah sure was odd.
As he left the hangar, he took a moment to look at the giant machine that had workers climbing all over it like ants. His fingers itched.
I want to pilot that... he thought, imagining the raw power behind such a beastly machine. But he sighed. Nobody would ever entrust such a powerful entity to a small nameless boy, no matter how great of a pilot he ever became.
Trowa Barton would get to pilot it, for the sole reason that the Barton family was the largest supporter of the project. Nanashi turned around and walked back towards camp. He had to prepare for a night of hiding in the shadows - attracting the attention of drunken mercenaries was never a good thing. But even as he left the hangar, his thoughts remained beside Heavyarms.
Trowa Barton, the lucky dog. I wish I could be him.