Two for one special today.

We Were Promised Jetpacks

Pillars of Salt and Sand

It was getting dark by the time Trowa and Alice were making their way back towards the more well-lit part of the colony, empty boxes in hand. The day had passed much like the one before, minus the aggressive confrontation with Luke, who seemed to tolerate Trowa's presence far more than Duo's.

Trowa supposed it might have been because he was quieter and overall less obtrusive than Duo. It was a trait that had served him well in the past in his gundam piloting days, as he went undercover in both OZ and then among Mariameia's troops.

"Your arm," Trowa began, breaking the silence, "what happened to it?"

Alice seemed startled. "My arm?" she asked genuinely puzzled. "Oh, you mean the prosthetic?"

Trowa nodded. "It's a pretty extreme injury to see on someone your age."

Alice sent him a look. "I'm not that young." She paused and looked down to stare intently at her hands as she flexed them. "But I guess you have a point—it is a sort of unusual injury for someone like me to have." Her voice contained a bitter edge to it.

"So how did it happen?" Trowa asked again, with an air of casualness, hiding his very real interest in the answer.

Alice went quiet for a few moments. "I know this'll probably sound pretty stupid, but I actually don't know."

Trowa raised an eyebrow.

She went silent again and seemed to seriously consider her next words.

"Look, I don't normally blab my life story to strangers, but, I have to say, you don't strike me as a very talkative guy, if you get what I mean."

"I've been told that before."

Alice let out a small laugh. "Good—that means I'm not the only one who got that impression."

Her face got suddenly very serious. "Two years ago I was found by Locke in some wreckage in space. I must have been involved in some hell of an accident because I was in pretty bad shape. He took me to the hospital here, but the injuries to my left arm were too extensive and they couldn't save it. A month and half later I woke up and didn't remember a thing... So, yeah, I don't know how I lost my arm."

She shrugged her shoulders and clasped her hands behind her back, as if to prove how much it didn't bother her.

Trowa's mind was working on overdrive turning her words over. He was brought back to reality, as Alice began speaking again unprompted.

"I'll tell you something, though. Locke would never tell me any details so I eventually did some digging myself. Through a couple of hacks into the hospital data base, I was able to find the official date of my admittance. I did some research and apparently a few days before there had been like this huge battle right near this colony—a battle that ended a long war between Earth and the colonies. Sound familiar?" Alice faltered. "That's a stupid question, of course it does—nothing's wrong with your memory. It seems like I'm the only one who doesn't…"

Her expression darkened for a moment.

"But you know, I was thinking that if I was found in some wreckage…that maybe I got caught up in that battle somehow? Makes sense, right? Like wrong place, wrong time thing." She drifted off and looked down.

"At least that's what I'd like to think," she said at last.

"Instead of what? Being involved? Being a soldier?" Trowa asked with a little too much feeling in his voice. He was slipping up.

"Yeah…that. I don't like to think that I—or not-me—would have been capable of something like that. I just can't stand the thought of it," Alice finished, voice shaky with emotion.

"Sector Six…that's the result of war—of fighting. Those kids, orphaned and alone, are what comes of fighting wars. Regardless of which side you're on, whether your cause is right or not, people die. And people are left behind. There's nothing more selfish than fighting a war."

Her words hung heavily in the following silence.

"Sorry, Trowa," Alice said suddenly, back to her normal self, "I warned you I was a rambler, though you seem to bring out that side of me more than usual."

She paused and looked up at the colony's fake sky.

"I bet I sound pretty messed up, though, huh?" she said jokingly.

Trowa answered honestly. "No." He paused to consider his words. "I realize it may not sound very sincere, but I understand where you're coming from."

Alice turned to face him, brows raised.

"Really?"

Trowa nodded.

She sent him a smirk. "You just get more and more interesting by the second, Trowa Barton."

Trowa paused. That wasn't the first time she had said it.

"Nicole."

His tone was frightening and all but screamed dangerous. Trowa had a mission. And as far as he was concerned she was an obstacle—one to be overcome at all costs.

His seriousness was lost on Nicole, who just barley spared him a glance from her place in front of the refrigerator's open door.

"What's shaking, Trowa?"

Trowa's eye narrowed. Her attempt to play dumb was almost insulting. He knew she wasn't dense enough to think he wouldn't have figured it out. And he knew she wasn't stupid enough to take his visit as anything other than hostile.

Though, he had to admit, he was surprised she had not gone into hiding in some corner of the ship.

Either way, he didn't have time to play her game.

"You're standing between me and my mission."

Nicole finally dropped her false cheeriness. She closed the door and straightened up, holding her chin high. She was not apologetic.

"No, I'm standing between you and your guaranteed compromising of this mission. You're hurt, and you need to recover. You'd only get in the way and get yourself killed—or worse—get Heavyarms destroyed," she told him defiantly.

"You don't know me or my capabilities."

"No?" she asked sarcastically. "Fine, then."

She turned her back to him, as if ending the conversation, but before Trowa could open his mouth to rekindle the argument, an apple was flying at his face.

His reflexes never failed him, and he caught it effortlessly.

However, a moment later it hit the ground.

"That's what I thought." Nicole gave him a cold look of grim satisfaction. She mockingly eyed the limp way his left arm dangled by his side.

Trowa defiantly stared back at her.

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, tough guy—I'll bite. How about you enlighten us lesser mortals to how the hell you plan on dealing with the extra weight of Heavyarms left arm with your own arm in that condition?"

Trowa said nothing, but looked down at his left hand, as if he could will it to do as he wanted. His hand opened and closed obediently, but fell short when he tried to raise the arm.

"I'm not reinstalling the control system," Nicole told him firmly, and with that final word she turned her back on him and crashed on the nearest couch. She stubbornly looked out of the small window on the dark vastness that was space.

The battle would be starting soon—anytime then really. The other gundam pilots had left almost twenty minutes ago. They would encountering the OZ soldiers soon enough. And then the light show would begin.

The couch dipped softly as Trowa positioned himself next to her.

"It's not like you to be so careless. What's gotten into you?" Nicole asked softly, though her gaze did not move.

Trowa was silent for a few more moments before she felt him abruptly sink deeper into the cushions.

"It's near the colony where Catherine is."

Nicole paused. The surprise was evident on her face.

"Catherine, huh? Never would have expected a guy like you to have a girlfriend."

Trowa shook his head.

"She's…more like an older sister," he said simply.

Nicole raised an eyebrow.

"How'd that happen?"

"Met her back on Earth."

"Ah."

She turned back to the window. Trowa could feel the curiosity radiating off of her, and it made the air thick. He gave in to it.

"On Earth I went undercover as a performer in a traveling circus. Catherine decided I needed to be—taken care of."

"Funny how all of you gundam pilots seem to attract people who all think alike."

Trowa nodded thoughtfully.

"They somehow made their way to space though. And when I…Catherine found me. She took me in and appointed herself my big sister. She doesn't approve of me fighting. She tried to protect me from it—to keep me from returning to this life."

"It obviously didn't work. It would never work. Being a gundam pilot, for better or worse, has become a part of who you are Trowa—who all of you guys are. You're a soldier and you'll keep fighting until you're no longer needed. It's tragic when you think about it. Poetic too."

Nicole sighed. "You'll return to her once this all over with, won't you?"

Trowa simply nodded.

"It must be nice," she whispered, "having someone to go back to—a home. Sometimes…sometimes I used to never want this war to end. Because…where would I go? What would it do? I'd be lost all over again.

"But I found something—a dream. I'm going to Earth. I'm going to stand on a beach and watch the waves of the ocean. For it to happen all this fighting has to stop and I be no longer needed.

"Pretty selfish, huh?"

Trowa crossed his arms. "Humans are selfish."

Nicole let out a bitter laugh.

"I suppose you're right."

Trowa and Duo arrived at the apartment later that night to find it in a state of absolute chaos. A frazzled, ragged Quatre was bustling around the rooms, throwing clothes, papers, and anything it seemed he could lay hands on into a suitcase .

"Woah, Q-man," Duo cried, "where's the fire?"

"Welcome back guys," Quatre returned distractedly.

Trowa and Duo stood there simply watching him dart back into his office and then rush back out with another pile of papers.

"Eh, better question, then—you going somewhere, Quatre?"

"Oh! Yes," Quatre cried, finally turning to face the pair. "I have to leave immediately tomorrow morning. I'm suddenly needed at the construction site, but I'll be back by tomorrow night."

Duo gave him a dumbfounded expression, while Trowa simply shifted to lean comfortably against a nearby wall, fading into the background of the conversation.

"Quatre, you can leave for longer—you certainly are packing as if you're never coming back. And I think Trowa and I have outgrown babysitters."

Quatre waved him off. "I have unfinished business here too. And I'm hoping to have a meeting first thing Wednesday morning if everything goes according to plan."

Duo threw his hands in the air exasperatedly.

"I'm telling you, man, you need to take a serious vacation. This cannot be good for your health. But if you want to send yourself to an early grave, be my guest. I'll make sure they put bunches of smelly flowers on your grave."

Duo gave him a lopsided smirk and made his way towards his room, waving behind him.

"I'll see you on the other side man."

Quatre just smiled softly at his retreating back.

"Oh, Duo…"

Suddenly another pile of papers made its way into his hands. He turned to find Trowa leaning against the couch.

"He has a point."

Quatre sighed.

"Yes, I know. But this is something that is very important to me. I want—no need—to come back and take care of it…"

Quatre drifted off and stared down at his nearly bursting briefcase.

"It's more of a…personal matter."

He was startled out of his gaze by a weight on his shoulder.

"We'll see you Wednesday then."

Trowa then disappeared down the hallway as well.

Quatre's gaze stayed locked on the space he just occupied. He couldn't help the warmth that spread through his chest.

"We've all come so far…"