Sainan no Kekka Tragedy's Consequence

by Gerald Tarrant and Quicksilver

The longest canon-based GW fic on the net. The pilots must deal with their identities being exposed to an unforgiving world, as the rest of the cast struggles with life, death, war and peace. Complete GW cast.

14. The Curtain of the Next Chapter Rises

Gundam Wing is property of Sotsu Agency, Bandai Studios, and TV Asahi. Sainan no Kekka and all original characters and plot copyright 2000 by Quicksilver and Gerald Tarrant. Please ask permission before reposting. SHIN KIDOU SENKI GUNDAM WING SAINAN NO KEKKA ACT IV, PART I Mune ni kakushita tsubasa de Ouzora e mai agareba Wasure kaketeta kinou no Jibun ni aeru Omoide nante iranai Me no mae no ichibyo dake Oretachi wa ima ikiteru Subete o kakete Atsuku nareru ima o Sagashinagara ikite iru Daremo oretachi o tomerare wa shinai I covered the wings of my heart If I dance towards the sky In the yesterday that was forgotten I can see myself I don't ask for memories Only a second before my eyes We are now living Breaking everything Now accustomed to the heat Of searching for living Nobody can stop us --Gundam Wing, Wild Wing [Duo Maxwell image song] Scene I: Life and Death in the Burning Fire "With just a little luck, a little cold blue steel; I'll cut the night like a razor blade till I feel the way I want to feel. There's a raging fire in my heart tonight." --Top Gun, Mighty Wings Lieutenant Commander Derman Etille, Commander Gustavson's second in command, was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a square jaw and kindly, fatherly eyes, and Milliard liked him immediately. The commander of the A007 rebel militia had returned as promised that evening, bringing along the vice commander and the leader of his elite guard forces. Milliard recognized the guard commander. He had been a trooper aboard the Libra, and he greeted him as such. The guard shook his head. "Those days are past now, sir. It was a pleasure serving under you, but I am no longer a member of White Fang." Milliard could understand that. He, after all, was no longer a member of White Fang either. Gustavson's eyes grew wide at the Preventers equipment that littered the otherwise sparse tent: the digital map, the homing beacons and the hand-held communicators. "This is state-of-the-art! So much equipment…providing you allow us to use it, sir," he added hastily, casting a covert glance in Milliard direction. "I'll see about that," he said, not quite knowing what to make of the rebels' awe. Beside him, Dorothy folded her arms over her chest. "I don't like it." "Shh." Gustavson turned back from the equipment to face him. "Sir…if you would permit us. I believe we have the most recent information on the enemy's whereabouts." He gestured at the digital map, and after a brief hesitation, Milliard nodded. "Go ahead. Tell me what you've got." With a flick of the switch the map came to life, and Gustavson fiddled with the controls for a moment, programming in various coordinates. The green lines zoomed in, blinking, to show a graph of what looked like various concentric circles with rectangular blocks scattered in various clusters. Gustavson's officers gathered by his side, and Milliard motioned Dorothy to do the same. "This is a rough sketch of the area where we are now," Gustavson said, gesturing with his finger. "I see you've done some scouting yourself, and the information you have is for the most part accurate. The circles are the rock formations in which we are currently camped. The rectangular shapes are buildings." He pointed to one of the largest rectangles. "This is a mobile suit facility about a day's journey from here by foot. We have been trying to gather information about this facility for several weeks, and we believe we have a good grasp of their schedule and their craft." A pointed look at Milliard. A nagging suspicion crept into the back of his mind, but he ignored it. "Go on." Gustavson turned back to the map. "The facility is heavily guarded. There are three entrances to the base, two of which are delivery and one for other vehicles. The delivery routes to the facility are here…and here." Pointing. "The delivery trucks usually run between 0400 to 0600 hours and then 1700 to 1800 hours. They deliver various supplies, including food, munitions, mobile suit parts." Dorothy moved restlessly next to him. "Are they repairing mobile suits, or constructing their own?" Gustavson shook his head. "As far as we can see, they haven't constructed any new mobile suits yet, though that is becoming a more likely possibility by the day, with their new trade alliance." Milliard frowned. "Trade alliance?" Etille nodded. "They've established a trade alliance with some colony off planet. We don't know the details, but they are being supplied from transports that come into the capital. We have forces in the capital, but security for the transports is even tighter than usual, and we haven't been able to get much information regarding cargo. But it is very probable that they might have figured out a way to produce mobile suits in their entirety." Gustavson was tight-lipped. "Heaven help us if that's the case." "You were saying about the facility?" Milliard prodded. The suspicions nagged at him again, and he sighed, gave into it. "I think I know what you are planning to do." "You probably do, sir." Four pairs of eyes watched him. "You want us to go with you on a raid. To steal mobile suits." "Would you?" Etille said. He was silent. "It's not as much a matter of equipment as a matter of time," Gustavson said heavily. "Any day now, we've been afraid they're going to start shipping in actual new mobile suits. Leos, Aries, Tauruses. They certainly have the resources to do so with this new trade system they've created. And if they do, it will only be a matter of weeks, perhaps days…before we are outclassed in everything they've got. Troops on foot are no match for mobile suits." "I wouldn't say that," murmured Dorothy, and Milliard knew she was thinking of Sally Po, and the tales she used to tell about her stint in the Chinese rebellion. He'd heard the stories many times while working late nights at the Preventers headquarters, filling out paperwork while Sally typed up schedules, talking to keep them both awake. "Commander Peacecraft…we need your help. Even if you decide not to ally with us…anything in the way of weapons or supplies would be wonderful." Gustavson paused. "I hate to say it, but our situation is bordering on desperate. The government has found many of our divisions, and soon we'll have to accept defeat." "You said there were three groups of this militia?" Etille nodded. "We are the western group. There's a central group, in the population center of the colony. Numbers there have shrunk since last month, when one of our bases there was raided by government troops and most of our people were killed. There's another group in the capital itself, but they are less of a military group than an underground resistance. A spy network, you might say." "And how strong is the government of A007?" Gustavson shook his head. "Ever since the current administration decided to rebel against the World Nation, there's really been no chance for any pro-World Nation factions anywhere on planet. We used to be one of a few hundred groups…we thought the rebellion would be over in a week…that we could handle it. But it didn't turn out that way." "We're sick of fighting," the guard commander put in quietly. It had been the first word he had spoken since he had arrived, and Milliard was struck by the deep sincerity there. "I have a family, commander. I have a wife. They deserve to be living in peace…not in this hellhole of a rebellion with no way out." "It's martial law, basically," Gustavson said. "The government is cracking down on anyone who is or is even rumored to be pro-World Nation. Their slogan is 'Citizens' Rights, Freedom for All,' but-" he cracked a sardonic laugh, "it's basically freedom for none." Dorothy snorted. "It doesn't make sense. I don't understand why A007 would want to rebel…wasn't the World Nation giving you everything you wanted?" Etille shrugged. "I was perfectly happy under the World Nation. I don't understand it either. We're simply fighting to get the old regime back." "I thank you gentlemen for coming," Milliard said, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. He needed space to think. "I will send my answer by tomorrow morning." Gustavson bowed. "Yes, sir." He watched their retreating backs, their fading footsteps, then turned to Dorothy. "You don't like it." She glared at him. "No I don't. It's very obvious these guys want to use you - us - to get what they want, and I don't know if I trust them. For all we know, they may be some government faction in disguise, planning to hit us when we least expect it." Milliard shook his head slowly. "I…I don't think so." "You're too trusting. They did attack us first, remember." He sighed. "That was an accident." "You just want to get to those mobile suits! I know what you're thinking!" He felt his fraying temper snap, rounding on her. "Yes, I want to get to the mobile suits! Fine! Are you satisfied now? We were sent to this colony to get a job done, and I'll do whatever I have to accomplish the mission! I've been a soldier all my life, and I don't think you have any room to talk!" She shrank back from him, avoiding his eyes, and he suddenly knew he had done something horrible. "Dorothy. Dorothy, I'm sorry. I-" "No," she murmured. "You're right. Do whatever you want." "Dorothy! Wait!" The doorway of the tent closed behind her, and he stared at it, feeling defeated. Why had he snapped at her? He couldn't remember. Zechs Merquise would have never done something like that. Zechs Merquise would have been calm, competent, decisive. But it was Milliard Peacecraft now who had to make the decision, to decide what he valued. He took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders. First he would go apologize to Dorothy. Second, he would prepare a missive and a messenger. Third, he would prepare his troops for a night raid. There really was no other option, if they wanted to survive. The mobile suit facility was a black monolith in the crescent moonlight, and he crouched behind a rock outcropping, overlooking the yard. Behind the black triangles of guard towers he could see the mobile suit warehouses, rows and rows of them. He remembered how it was back at the Academy when he had been a freshmen, when he and a few of the cadets would sneak into the yards at night, wanting just to sit in the cockpit of one of the giant machines, to feel power under their fingertips. They had been young then, not understanding that with power came responsibility and duty and grief. A crackle over his radio. "Commander Peacecraft?" "What is it?" "We are in position, sir. Awaiting your signal." He raised his field glasses, pointed them at where Dorothy waited down below with the few soldiers who he had slotted to rappel in over the chain link fences and take out the guard towers. They'll know we're here, he had told her. There's no way to avoid that. We don't have time to study the plans to find a quieter way in. Just be quick. Of course I'll be quick. Her voice was disdainful but her eyes were dark. She still didn't trust him. "Roger that." He nodded to the team beside him and the leader gave him the affirmative signal, slipping off into the night. The soldiers of his own team, crouching behind him, were perfectly silent. He was impressed. Most of them had probably fought in the war, and he wondered how many of them had been infiltration or reconnaissance troops. He raised his hand and heard only a slight crunching of boots on the grass as they moved out behind him, carefully scaling down the rocky hillside. Any time now. Any time now- The alarm sounded. It was a screechy horrible noise that vibrated through his head, and he gritted his teeth. That was it. He broke into a sprint, the soldiers behind him doing the same. There was gunfire, and he heard the bullets pinging behind him as he raced down towards the fence, and then there was an explosion. Someone screamed, and the red and green blasts of laser cannons filled the night air for a brief moment. The alarm was still sounding. "Group A, left!" he ordered harshly. "Group B, follow me!" The facility was ordered just as Gustavson had said, with dumpsters on the far side of the fence just inside the shattered fence that they had used as an entrance. Supply houses on the right, fuel tanks in the distance, huge cylinders like giant tree trunks. The flightline was their goal, and the hangars that lay just outside it. The line was dimly lit, and there were guards piling out of the darkened guardhouses. They didn't have much time. Behind him was another thundering round of gunfire, and he could hear as several soldiers behind him went down. But he kept on running. There was no time for the dead here. They dodged through a deserted alleyway and lost their pursuers for a brief minute. Perfect. There was a small door in the side of the hangar to their right, and he raised his rifle, blasted it into the control panel, removing the casing. Fumbled with the wires for a moment while someone flicked on a flashlight to help him see, and then the light on what was left of the keypad blinked green. "Go!" he hissed, flinging open the door, surveying his squad. They were down almost by half, and most of the ones who were left were wounded in some way or another. One man was obviously limping, gritting his teeth as he took up the rear through the door. Milliard could see the blood soaking through his pants. The mobile suits would be locked down, and they would have to hotwire their systems. It was easy enough for him, who had piloted a Gundam during the war, but he guessed that most of these soldiers had never even touched a mobile suit before. He had given a crash course just before they had moved out tonight. He hoped it was enough. He heard gunfire, running footsteps. Squeezing himself into a dark hole between a wall of tools and some sheets of metal, he waited until he saw the posse of three guards race past, weapons at the ready. They wore red uniforms. There was no time to think. He let his instincts guide him as he ran, past the crew section of the hangar, into the huge cavernous space where the mobile suits were housed. There were six of them, just as Gustavson had said, and he could see some of his soldiers already climbing into the cockpits. So they had figured out how to unlock the systems. Good. He had the hatch to his mobile suit open in no time, powering up the craft and swinging it around to face the side of the hangar. Gunfire spattered his armor and he turned his shields up full. Power was not the issue here, but the safety of the machines. Returning automatic fire, he keyed the communications panel and watched in satisfaction as it flickered to life. Heard the familiar hum of the engine and the blinking of the heads-up-display. It was like coming home. The Aries he sat in was no Epyon. He didn't think he could handle sitting in Epyon again, remembering all that had happened while he had piloted it. But an Aries was all right. It reminded him of his training days at the Academy, when honor and glory were values that every cadet held dear. It reminded him of Noin. Noin. Straightening, he touched the controls with firm resolve, and the Aries took one thundering step forward, then another. "Stand back," he ordered on the comm channel. "This might hurt." Before anyone could respond, he raised the Aries' main gun, and fired. The wall before him was not designed to take any kind of battle damage, as they had guessed, and the resulting explosion was blinding. Bits of metal bounced of the Aries' windshield, and he waited until the smoke cleared before advancing. The other mobile suits were green dots on his battle display, and he counted two…four of them. There was one more, wasn't there? "A4, what are you doing?" "The machine won't respond, sir!" "Emergency systems control!" he snapped, slapping the panel for open communication to the injured mobile suit. The face blinked onto the screen, a dark-haired boy who couldn't have been more than seventeen. "I…it's not responding, commander!" He swung around, dodging a laser bolt flashing dangerously close to his windshield. "Control D3!" "I can't-" the boy's voice was pained. It was only then that Milliard saw he was bleeding from the forehead. "I-" There was a burst of fire and the boy's face fuzzed into nothing. He dodged another blast, returning fire. The hangar wall was a black mass of twisted metal, and through it he could see the wreck of a mobile suit. "A4!" he said into the comm. "A4, come in!" Seventeen…the Gundam pilots would be seventeen years old now. Only children, really. "Let's go," he said tersely, breaking off and launching the craft across the ground of the yards. There were green dots coming from starboard…five Leos and a Taurus. A blink, and Etille's face appeared on screen. "Good work, commander." "We're not out of this yet," he said. "Follow me. Battle formation Beta." "Roger." The chain-link fence was only a few hundred meters away, and he urged his mobile suit on faster, drawing fire, hoping that no one would get hit and they would return without any more casualties. He hated it when his men had to die in war. It was brutal. "Commander!" His HUD flickered as twin lasers shot over him, and there was a faint grinding noise of metal. "Go on! Don't wait for me!" He spun the mobile suit around in time to see Etille's Leo fall to the ground, pinned by two Aries who were definitely not any of theirs. "Etille!" "Go!" '"Dammit!" he shouted, angry more at himself than at the enemy, angry at himself for letting his troops down, angry at himself because his men were dying and there was nothing he could do about it. "Dammit, Etille! Get up!" He started to turn, to go back the way he had come, and found his path blocked by another Aries. Fire shot from its forward guns, and something popped in the cockpit, and he felt warm liquid dribble down from his forehead. He turned and fled through the fence, leaving the battle behind him. The Aries pursued him for a short while, but when he looked back a second time, it was gone. Dorothy was safe. She met him as he dropped from the hatch, putting a hand to his forehead. "You're hurt." "Don't worry about that," he said harshly. Gustavson strode over, his face impassive, and Milliard looked him in the eye. "Etille is gone." "I know," the rebel commander said. That was all that needed to be said. The fate of a man killed in battle was not something to be discussed or questioned, and he let it drop. "How many did you get?" "We took six, altogether. You?" "Five," he said, grimacing at the memory of the boy who had died in the Aries there. "We lost one." "So did we," Gustavson said gravely. "As you know. But eleven is a good number. The raid went well. Thank you, Commander Peacecraft. And you," he bowed to Dorothy, "Lady Catalonia." She looked grim. "Don't mention it." Milliard looked at her, her face covered with soot and one shoulder of her uniform torn. "You're hurt too." "Nothing compared to you," she returned, wiping the blood from her cheek. "I-" She stopped. Gustavson looked from him to her, then bowed. "I will take my leave. Should I report here tomorrow morning?" "Please," Milliard said, not really paying attention to the rebel commander. "See you then. Good night." "Good night, sir." "I'm glad you came back safely," Dorothy said, her voice low. He couldn't think of anything to say, so he simply smiled. "I was right to have picked you to come with me. You're an excellent soldier." Her face crumpled for an instant, and he wondered frantically if he had said something wrong, or maybe she was still angry at him for shouting at her this afternoon. But it was only for an instant, and then she was as calm as ever. "What do we do now, Milliard?" "Now?" He turned to survey the stolen craft. "We make sure they don't come after us to try to steal their mobile suits back, and then we train pilots." "Pilots." She sounded dubious. "Yes." He glanced at her. "You piloted during the war. You could help teach." Dorothy laughed harshly. "Not really. I was a Mobile Doll pilot. I never actually flew." He considered this. "You don't know how to control a mobile suit?" She shrugged. "I think I could if I was taught the basics. They're about the same, right?" Well. He smiled, and she frowned at him. "I don't like that smile. What are you thinking?" "I think," he said grandly, gesturing at the stolen Aries that stood tall and proud above the cliff like a trophy, "it's time to teach you how to pilot a mobile suit." Go to Dorothy story Peace Part II: Backed into a Corner "So I stayed true to the things I knew when I was younger." -Beth Orton, Stars All Seem to Weep "Lady Une!" A microphone was shoved into her face by an overly enthusiastic reporter. She stared back at him with a stony gaze, for a second wishing she still had the shield of her glass to hide behind. The reporter's eager grin faltered, then faded away entirely as she brushed past him. "I thought I ordered this hallway cleared!" she snapped at the first lieutenant who was on her heels. "You didn't give us a chance to finish the sweep!" the lieutenant protested, then blushed when he realized who he had just snapped at. Mentally he kissed any chance for promotion good-bye. "I don't have time for you to take your leisure! When I say I want something DONE, it should be done STAT! My God, why am I cursed to be surrounded by imbeciles?" she demanded. Everyone wisely kept silent as she careened around a corner, her eyes flashing angrily. She was going to kill the next person who gave her the slightest excuse. She gave a glare at another reporter who materialized, and he quickly retreated without making any attempt to pester her for a story. Finally she went into her office. Going over to her desk, she sunk into the padded chair, trying to decide what her next step should be. She had watched the news with the same suspension of disbelief she'd been feeling ever since Banks had broken into her office, and reality finally sank in. This could destroy her, her Preventers, and everything she'd ever worked for. The riots had become worse, and the death toll had topped a thousand. She had had to put an travel injunction on L4, since everyone seemed determined to go there and let Master Quatre Raberba Winner know exactly what they thought of his actions. By all accounts, the Winner family had closed ranks and Quatre had gone into hiding. Even Une, with all her resources, was having a hard time tracking down the billionaire. His sisters had taken over the business, and none of them were talking. Her hand started to reach for pain medication, but she stopped. She would deal with it- Sally had been right. It wasn't a good idea to get so dependent on medicine- she wasn't about to get addicted. No, she would accept the pain as part and parcel of her job. Fine. It was time to accept the situation. The milk had been spilt, so now she had to clean it as speedily as possible so it didn't have a chance to spoil. Treize wasn't around, but she was. She would carry on his legacy, a legacy which no one seemed to understand. She shut her eyes. First thing was first. She had to track the Gundam pilots down and get them under her control. She hated to think what Chang Wufei or Duo Maxwell would do about the situation, much less Heero Yuy. The pilots were used to direct action, and they, with the exception of Quatre, had little sense of diplomacy. Wufei and Duo were a touch on the direct side, and Heero was as unpredictable as an tornado- coming in, causing havoc, and then taking off before anyone was quite sure what had hit. Trowa she could trust. She had always trusted Trowa, even when she had known he was an infiltrator. Quatre wouldn't do anything violent, either, but his public announcement had been almost as harmful. Still, that left the other three as uncertain reagents ready to be thrown into the brew. If she could catch them quickly enough, she might be able to control the resulting exothermic reaction, making sure it happened when and where she wanted. Une hated having to use the pilots, but rationally, she had no choice. First things first, she thought, entering the location number into the vid screen. It was only a few seconds before it was answered, much to her surprise. "Sally Po," a haggled woman with circled eyes said. "I'm sorry for calling so late your time, but- Sally, what in HELL are you still doing awake?" Une demanded. "There was another potential riot, and I helped disperse the protesters peacefully. Did you know that Duo Maxwell, until two days ago, was a student at Cliffside Heights?" Sally asked with bitter humor. "Maxwell- THERE?" Une demanded, feeling slightly sick. She'd been hoping Sally would be able to help her track the pilots, but this was too much. "What were the chances?" "Better then you think. Apparently it's a very small world." "Is he still there?" Une asked hopefully. That would be one less problem that she would have to worry about. She'd always found Duo the most frightening of the pilots; the way he could kill a man while laughing always sent shivers down her spine. She personally thought he was a few bricks short of a load. "No. He left two days ago with Hilde Schbeiker." "Hilde was a student there?" Une said. "According to my files, she was on L2 running her scrapyard." "Nope. She sold it to Howard- remember that engineer, the one who built the Gundams? Anyway, she sold the yard and came and picked Duo up. I'm not sure exactly where they headed off to." "Just great," Une muttered. "I can't believe this. Duo's on the run, Quatre's in hiding, and we have no idea where the other three are." "If you sit still long enough, you'll find out. Just wait for the largest explosions." "Sally!" "Yes?" "That wasn't funny!" Une said. "But it's the truth. Those three know one reaction to stress, and that is to blow up the cause of the stress. They're terrorists, and that's what they were trained for." Une sighed, hating the idea that Sally might have a point. "I have to have them here, Sally. I have to be able to control what they'll do, at any cost. The idea of them free to react any way they want to is enough to send shivers down my spine. You knew them better then I did- where do you think they could be?" "Well, I'd bet that Heero and Trowa have already disappeared into the general population. They're probably altered their appearance, maybe even going so far as to have plastic surgery. Trowa- wait, doesn't he have a sister?" Sally asked. "Yes. At a circus. He was performing there, but I doubt he'll be there anymore. He wouldn't do anything to risk her safety- she was the most important thing to him." "Still, track the circus. Find what continent it's on. He'll probably remain fairly close so he can make sure they're safe." "Perhaps," Une said, fingering her chin as she thought. "Duo probably is back out in space. He and Hilde are both Colonists." "Four colonies for him to choose from- it seems likely. And the colonies are more likely to defend the pilots- after all, they ARE their saviors, and a lot of the colonists remember that," Sally agreed. She began to untwist one of her long braid, and Une realized the other woman was preparing for some well-deserved sleep. "I'll only keep you another few moments. Wufei is the one I have no idea about. His colony self destructed, otherwise I would have said he would be there." "He has a strong sense of tradition. L5's colonists were primarily of Chinese descent- perhaps he went to China? Somewhere remote, where he could be alone? He didn't like people much." "I'll look into it," Une said. "Thanks, Sally. Now go to bed, get some sleep. That's a direct order." "Yes, Ma'am!" Sally returned back with a crisp salute. Une laughed as she broke the connection. She needed to laugh. She hit the pager, and one of her assistants appeared- Major Li again. "Major Li, I need you to start a search for the rest of the Gundam pilots. For Chang, look specifically in China. Maxwell is most likely on one of the Colonies. Barton and Yuy will be difficult to find- start looking for any "new" identities. I doubt you'll be able to find any of them, but we have to make an attempt. As of this moment, you're off all other duty except this, and have Security Clearance 2- your code is Li-Alpha Phi Omega." Une entered the information into her consol and hit the button that would enable the Major to have a security level just below that of Une herself. "Also, get ahold of... isn't General Brown in charge of intelligence? Please ask General Brown to report to my office at his soonest possible convenience. Understood?" "Yes, ma'am! Who should I assign as my relief as your aide?" Une looked pained. "I don't have that many higher-ranked officers left," she said. "I don't know any of the lower ratings- Sally is the one who would.know, but I just sent her to bed." "Permission to speak freely, ma'am?" Major Li boldly asked. "Granted," Une said. Not many of her subordinates had the courage to ask for permission to address her freely, and one never had when word was out that Une was in one of her "moods", and Une was certain someone had warned Major Li. Needless to say, Une was curious and a bit impressed- mentally she placed Li on the fast track for promotion. She'd been invaluable ever since the entire Gundam mess had blown up. "I know this is presumptuous of me, but I'd recommend Lieutenant Gils-Reve. He is a touch short on seniority, but he's smart, and he knows how to keep his mouth shut. I think he'd get along very well with you." "Meaning that he'd be able to put up with getting yelled at everything third time I spoke to him?" Une said with a straight face. She pulled up his personnel dossier and reviewed it quickly, nodding approvingly as she saw his credentials. He was a touch low of experience, but sometimes the best officers were made when they were thrown off the deep end, and asked to swim. She looked up thoughtfully. "Ask him to report to me as well, I guess." If he needs more authority, I can always promote him, maybe even jump him a grade. See how he handles things when the cards are down. There's no room for weaklings in the Preventers, especially not now. If he can't handle the heat, he'll have to get out of the kitchen. Major Li saluted, without the mocking Sally Po had brought to the gesture. Une watched as the Asian woman left, then picked up a file and began to prepare. She looked down at the grimly functional uniform of the Preventers, seeing the stark beauty inherent in it. Earlier she had thought that it was unflattering, but that wasn't what was important. What mattered was what it represented- peace for the universe, protection for the citizens of Earth and the Colonies. Treize was right, she thought. There's beauty in everything. Now I just have to show the world how to see it. She looked up from her desk as the door chime went off. "Enter," she called. In came a man in his later fifties, whose hairline had receded years ago. General Brown was one of the few Federation Generals who had survived the war, and Une had secretly gloated about having him in her employ many times. He was a brilliant, shrewd man who seemed to appreciate the comfort of peace, yet was realistic to know how much work it took to maintain said peace. He inspired loyalty in his subordinates, yet never abused it. In fact, his only flaw was that he hated the rule book. He was the kind to bend the rules as much as possible, and sometimes he would even go so far as to ignore them all together. It made him perfect for the Intelligence Commander's slot, but Une often wondered how he had ever managed to get promoted to General in the first place, considering his casual disregard of procedures. Still, he did his job, did it well, and was loyal to her. She couldn't ask for more. Another quality was, aside from Une herself and possibly Sally Po, he was the best-informed person on the planet. He could cheerfully rattle off exactly what Relena Peacecraft had for breakfast, and reveled in it. He didn't have to show off his knowledge- it was enough that he knew. "You asked for me, ma'am?" She nodded. "Yes, General, please have a seat." Une bit her lip for a second, then looked him directly in the eye. "I don't know how to broach the subject, so I'll just come out and say it. General, the Preventers are in a crisis situation." General Brown nodded. "I was well aware of that- if Cliffside Heights hadn't convinced me, I would be a fairly stupid man, something I don't think is accurate." She looked at him, nodded slightly. "I don't want to ask you this. I would give anything not to have ask you this, you know. But I need you to locate the Gundam Pilots. "I assigned Major Li to do so, and she'll make an attempt at it. I gave her security clearance level two, but that won't help her. You and I are both well aware that the pilots are masters of camouflage. If they're hiding, it'll take the best of our agents to find them, and Major Li, while a competent officer, isn't a spy. She doesn't have the resources you do. You and I are both level one security, and this is, and we might have a chance at it, even though I doubt it. "Here's what I want you to do. I want you to take gray men and track them down. Use all means and resources at your disposal, and you have the complete financial backing of the Preventers. Intercept the pilots and have them brought to Geneva- use any excuse you have to. Bind them in a straight jacket, if it comes down it it." General Brown nodded. "Mission accepted." He stood and went for the door, but was stopped when Une took a deep breath. "One more thing. If it becomes impossible for any reason to bring any of the pilots in, I want you to kill them, and then have your operatives suicide. No form of ID should be left on any of the bodies." He turned, gave her a salute with ancient appearing eyes. "I understand," he said softly, then left the office. Une cradled her head in her hands. "I'm so sorry, Treize. But you know I had to. If I can't control the pilots, there's no hope left for peace." Scene III: Royalty of Pure Blood "When you question me for a simple answer, I don't know what to say." --Celine Dion, That's the Way It Is The phone on the side of Relena's desk was silent. It wasn't because she wasn't receiving any calls, because Gorniak had informed her that the number of people trying to contact her had doubled the same afternoon the identities of the pilots had been released. It wasn't that she was blocking the calls either. She prided herself on working hard to be someone who truly cared about each citizen in the kingdom, and she would have gladly taken each and every complaint personally, if she had the time. It was just that the ringing from the phone had finally managed to add to her already agitated nerves, and she had, in a fit of blind rage, thrown it against the wall. So now it was broken. She stared at the chipped lump of plastic thoughtfully, leaning back in her chair and massaging her aching hands. She had rarely ever thrown temper tantrums as a child, at least not that she could remember. Milliard insisted that she had always gotten him in trouble by having "fits," as he called them, but that was too long ago in a time and place which her memory had not retained. Since she had been old enough to go with her adopted father to his press conferences and his off-planet appointments, people had complimented her on her poise and her calm. Oh, well. Everyone had a breaking point, she supposed, and she had reached hers yesterday. She still had the vidscreen, which was her primary tool of communication, but all the calls to the vid were screened by operators and then by Gorniak himself before they were allowed to go through to her. This insured that only either personal matters or matters of extreme importance would come through on the vidscreen. Everyone else could use the phone. The gray weather predicted by yesterday's forecast had finally come in this afternoon, and the fog and drizzle were not doing much for Relena's own dampened spirits. True, things could be worse. There could have been a forced coup of the World Nation, or Quatre could have been arrested….any number of things could have happened which could have compounded the situation. She supposed she should be glad for that. There were piles and piles of paper on her desk and more documents clogging the hard drive on her overworked computer. She glanced at the monitor warily, seeing three new messages come up on the screen. Deciding that she just did not care anymore, she reached over and hit the delete button. If these people were serious, they'd keep sending until she responded. It was something she would do. But then again, she was more stubborn than most. The green light on the vidscreen blinked, signaling that she had a call. Relena glanced at the darkened screen, wondering whether she should pretend she was not there. It was probably one of the heads of the World Nation, asking some favor or other, wanting to know tidbits about the pilots, wanting do know where they were. She had already said she wouldn't tell a thing. They could ask all they wanted. Well, if it was just a World Nation lackey, she could always hang up in his face. She enjoyed doing that sometimes. She hit the receive button. "One moment please," the screen proclaimed in a flat electronic voice, and then blinked. "Queen Relena Peacecraft, this call is from the Dermail Duchy, France." She blinked. Dermail Duchy? That was… "Good morning, Lady Peacecraft." It was afternoon here, but she nodded politely anyway. "Good morning." The image on the screen was of a woman elegantly dressed, one white-gloved hand tapping her chin impatiently. If not for the neatly styled graying hair, Relena could have sworn that the woman was no older than thirty. "To whom might I owe the pleasure of this call?" "Ah…yes." The woman did not sound pleased, and her eyes snapped at Relena. You should know who I am, the eyes said. Everyone knows who I am. "My name is Emily Khushrenada Noventa, but I believe you might know me better as Dorothy Catalonia's mother." Inwardly, Relena did a double-take. This was Dorothy Catalonia's fabled mother? She'd heard the stories and read the gossip in the news, but she'd never actually looked closely at a picture of the woman. Now she could see the resemblance…the eyes, especially. Dorothy had her eyes. "I am honored," she said graciously, not sure if she was honored or not. Better to be on the safe side. "And what business would you have with me, Lady Catalonia?" "I think you know very well," Emily Khushrenada Noventa snapped, completely disregarding all pretense of propriety. "Where is my daughter?" Relena forgot to cover her surprise. "Ex-excuse me?" "My daughter." Emily drew the word out, as if speaking to a child or an idiot. "Where is she?" How should I know? Relena wanted to snap back at her, but she took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Lady Khushrenada…I don't know what you mean. I have not seen your daughter since the war." "Ah, yes. The war." Twisting her face at the word as if it left a bitter taste in her mouth. "Well, Lady Peacecraft, tell me what you think of this." Reaching out of sight of the screen for a moment, Emily held up a sheet of elegant stationary and began to read. Dear Mother, By the time you read this I will be gone. Milliard Peacecraft has approached me with a proposal which I have not the good graces to refuse and I have left with him. Please do not worry about me. I will return when the business is finished. Dorothy Milliard? Emily stabbed one long tapered nail at the letter. "Milliard Peacecraft is your brother, is he not?" "Well…" Relena stammered, not sure what to make of this. "Yes, he is, but-" "But?" Emily waited, then nodded as if satisfied. "No excuses. Your brother has taken my Dorothy, and I want her back!" "I don't-" Emily waggled a finger at her. "The schemes of men always end up leaving a lady out in the cold, and I know the kind of reputation your brother has. I know not what witchcraft your brother used to bewitch my daughter, but I want her back. Now." "I don't know where she is," Relena said, straining to keep her temper in check. "How can you not know? Milliard Peacecraft is your brother!" "My lady, I have not seen my brother in five months since he joined the Preventers. I am not responsible for his actions. Milliard is an adult perfectly able to take care of himself, and if he asked Dorothy to accompany him, I'm sure it was in good faith." "Don't you lie to me, girl." Emily's eyes were flashing now, dangerous. Dorothy's eyes. Like mother, like daughter. "If you think your brother can get away with kidnapping my Dorothy and having his way with her, you should think again! I am one of the most powerful women in the world, and I know how to use that power!" That was it. Relena leaned into the screen and smiled sweetly. "Lady Noventa?" The duchess' eyes narrowed. "What?" "Lady Noventa, I am also one of the most powerful women in the world, and like you, I know how to use that power. Unlike you, I do not abuse my power. If you knew what was good for you, you would get the hell out of my family's business and perhaps work on establishing a firmer bond with your daughter so she won't run away next time!" She wanted to laugh at the stunned look on the duchess' face, but held it in. "Good day, Duchess," she said, and clicked the vidscreen off. Slumping back in her chair, she took a deep breath and let it out. She probably should not have done that, and it would definitely hold repercussions for her later…but it felt strangely good to let out some of her frustration. Still…Milliard and Dorothy? She never would have guessed. Twirling one long lock of golden hair between her fingers, she smiled slightly to herself. Her brother…interesting. She'd always thought he was in love with Noin. What had changed his mind? In all likelihood, Emily Khushrenada was wrong, and Milliard had taken Dorothy somewhere on purely military business. She could see him doing that more than kidnapping her for some romantic midnight crusade. Always business-minded, was her brother, and Dorothy did have more than adequate experience in military affairs. She wished Milliard would call her every now and then. She…she missed him She wondered for a moment what he was doing, then wondered if he had had any part in putting down any of the riots in which people had been killed. She hoped not. The Preventers… She had been meaning to call Lady Une, but she had kept putting it off. Lady Une was probably busy…she didn't have time to talk to her. She hadn't seen Treize's second-in-command since the war ended, and Relena doubted that Une had totally forgiven her for trying to kill her. But…she needed answers, and Une was the only one who could tell her what was going on. Taking another deep breath, she dialed the number for the Preventers Headquarters in Geneva. The red call light blinked and she sat up straight, fixing her hair around her shoulders and waiting. A flash and the face of a male operator appeared on the screen. He nodded his head in greeting. "Queen Relena Peacecraft?" "Yes," she said. "I would like to speak with General Une." He nodded again. "One moment, please." The screen went dark again, with a red status bar blinking, and she stared at it until it began to blur in front of her eyes. Red on black…like blood. "Relena?" She blinked. The status bar was gone and in its place was the face of Lady Une, looking at least five years older and like she hadn't slept in a week. "You look terrible!" she exclaimed before she could help herself, leaning forward into the vidscreen. "Have you slept at all?" Une smiled wryly. "Thank you for your concern. I've been getting sleep on and off…the caffeine pills help somewhat." Relena knew she looked horrified, but she couldn't help herself. Une cracked a tired laugh. "I'll live. What brings you calling?" Relena bit her lip. "I…I was just wondering what was going on. How my-my brother was doing. I haven't seen him in months. How the Preventers are dealing with the riots and what I can do to help…if anything." Une sighed. "Things are going as well as they can, which really isn't saying much. You heard about the riots at Cliffside and Tiananmen Square, obviously. I've sent out squads…they're not to use anymore loaded firearms or explosives unless absolutely necessary, and then that order has to go through me first. So we shouldn't be seeing anymore shootings." "That's good," Relena murmured. "As for your brother…I dispatched him on a mission offplanet, and I have no idea when he will be back." Offplanet? She pondered this for a moment. "He didn't happen to take Dorothy Catalonia with him, did he?" Une blinked. "Not to my knowledge. Though…" She looked thoughtful," he did say that he was going to recruit some people with 'experience.' Not that he told me what that meant." "Ah. All right." "Is something wrong, Relena?" "No…nothing wrong." Suddenly serious, she looked Une in the eye. "Tell me how I can help." Une looked startled. "I'm serious," Relena said. "I feel useless, sitting here in my palace while you are taking all the fire. I knew the pilots, too. I was their friend. I know how you feel…I want to do something. I have connections…" "Always the noble one," Une murmured. "I'm not sure what you could do right now. The situation has already gone to hell. Now it's just a question of how fast it will fall." "If it's falling," Relena said firmly, "I want to fall with you. I know Duo was at Cliffside….have you managed to locate any of the pilots yet? What about Quatre?" "No news on the other pilots yet." Une looked sympathetic. "I know you're probably worried about Heero…but we have no idea where he is. I've sent out a search team. Hopefully they'll be able to find him." Relena nodded slowly. "As for Quatre…his location right now is classified. I know this is a secure channel…but.." "I understand," Relena said quietly. "Thank you anyway." "Don't mention it. Anything you'd like to know?" Relena shook her head. "Not right now. I'm sorry to bother you." "No bother," Une said, smiling slightly. "Your call was the first personal call I've had in weeks. Thank you." She was taken aback slightly, but managed to smile back. "You're welcome. I will call again later." "Have a good day," Une said, and the screen flicked off. So Milliard wasn't there, after all. She knew how important he was to the Preventers. Well, it couldn't be helped now. The situation's already gone to hell…now it's just a question of how fast it will fall. If it's falling, I want to fall with you. She gripped the armrests of her chair tightly. She was useless here in the Cinq Kingdom, with its stacks of paperwork and endless routine. Any fool could fill out paperwork and sign documents. She was tired of speaking and not doing. If she was a real queen, she would back up her words with action…right? Milliard wasn't there, so she would have to take his place. Standing, she pursed her lips, thinking. This was sudden….but no one could say they hadn't seen it coming. Gorniak had hinted several times that she should maybe take a trip to Geneva or Tokyo to see things firsthand for herself, and several of her ministers had agreed. She would just take a week, maybe two. She would be back in no time. It was the duty of a sister and a friend, to help those in times of need. She might be a pacifist, but there were times when the good of the world depended upon more than lofty ideals. Milliard had taught her that. It was the only right thing to do. And maybe, just maybe somewhere out there…a Gundam pilot would be waiting. Be strong, Heero. I'm coming back to you. Scene IV: Journey to the Shadowed Land "Shadowland, the leaves have fallen This shadowed land, this was our home." ~The Lion King, Shadowland Colony L2-C was one of the oldest in the L2 Colony cluster, and its age showed. Most of the wealthy had deserted it for newer, more modern, accommodations, leaving it free for the criminal element to move in. And move in they did. While C didn't have quite the reputation of The Breaks, it was a moderately rough area in that survival of the fittest was the law of the land. Hilde was by no means a weak woman, but she was nervous about having to enter this no man's land. The law enforcement was non-existent, and she knew that she would be a prime mark. Having Duo along would help, but two teenagers against the world of C were not good odds. Still, they had faced worse. She herself still wasn't sure exactly where they were going. Duo had told her that he would need her to help recover both Gundams. It didn't matter that he had asked her to come- she would have followed him anyway, but it was nice that he had asked. There was no way she was letting him out of her sight now that she had him again. He was just too important to her. Neither of them had spoken the other much. There was an awkwardness that had never been there before, and neither had a clue how to break through it. She was confident they would work through it, though. Hilde stepped off the shuttle, coughing slightly. C's air filtration system was archaic by modern standards, and the air had been recycled so often that it should have hazard warnings attached to it. Hilde had only been on Earth a few times, but each time she went there, she delighted in the rich, relatively clean, air. It was a luxury that all the colonists appreciated; though they seldom would admit it. Colonists tended to view Terrans as "soft land grubbers", and it was this frontier pride that helped that not only survive, but in many cases, thrive. C, though, was all about survival. Drugs were everywhere, and there were no small numbers of prostitutes. C was the center of smuggling for the L2 cluster, and a few of their cartels were known throughout space. "Calm down, Hilde," Duo said from behind her. She glanced at him, wishing she dared keep her attention on him, but she didn't. The area was simply too dangerous for her to waste her time focusing on a known variable. The second she dared take showed him wearing a serious expression, and his posture was alert. Even though he was young, he was radiating signs that HE was a predator, an alpha male, and should be left to his damn business. Hilde shivered slightly, and wondered if that expression was the last thing his victims had seen. "I am calm, Duo," she said, keeping her expression carefully blank. "I would just feel a whole lot better if I knew where the hell we were going." Duo wrapped his arm around her waist. "We're going home, babe. My home." "What?" she asked. "But I thought-" "The remains of Maxwell Church," he said softly. "Where else would I leave Shinigami but the place where it all began?" She nodded as she recognized the logic behind it. "I should have known. And that's why you're going to get them." "It won't take the press long to figure out my background- and when they do, one intrepid reporter is going to go snooping around L2. I have to get the Gundams away from here, and back on Earth. I may be a man alone, but I'm not helpless." His voice was hard, and Hilde suddenly envisioned Duo throwing away his life in some grand, futile scheme. He wouldn't let them take him alive, she realized with cold certainty. He had been captured before, and the experience had traumatized him enough that she had tried to make him go to a counselor. He had, of course, refused. Duo couldn't stand to be caged, and there was no way anyone was every going to succeed in imprisoning him again. He would embrace his namesake first. "Duo…" "Hilde, relax. I've arranged for transportation to C Side, then we're going to go the rest of the way on foot. No one goes near that area; it's a ghost town. It's starting to have stories spread about it- superstitious fools. As if Sister Helen or Father Maxwell would ever hurt anyone. Personally, I would WANT to go there if I was still living on L2- it'd be a great place to live- no indent gangs, no cartels." "Just the specter of death himself," Hilde murmured to herself. "Why fear death? The dead can't hurt you," Duo said softly. "It's the living that you have to worry about." She wasn't sure if she agreed with that, but Duo's philosophy on death had always been a touch on the unnerving side. "C'mon- I have a- well, she's not a friend, but an acquaintance who's waiting to meet me. She has the car ready." Hilde took off two steps behind him. They walked briskly, avoiding eye contact with other pedestrians. "Can you try to look less like a soldier?" Duo hissed out of the corner of his mouth. "What?" she asked in surprise. "You're Oz training shows in how you move- very rigid and alert. You look like you're a spy." "How SHOULD I move, then?" she demanded. "Try to loosen up! Be alert, but don't look like you're going to salute the next authority figure you see! I should have gone by myself," he muttered. "Don't you DARE think like that, Duo Maxwell!" she commanded, getting louder without meaning to. People turned to look, surprised, and she hastily lowered her voice. "I'm staying with you. You're not leaving me behind this time- I will follow you through hell and back." He blinked at her a few times, surprise showing in his wide, yet beautiful eyes. "Hilde…" "You need me, Maxwell," she said, poking him in the chest with her index finger. "And I need you, too- this may not be the best place to say this, but I love you, God damn it! Nothing is taking you away from me again- not even your nightmares! I let you go once- it's not going to happen again!" He grabbed her, kissing her lips quickly. "Now's not the time nor place," he agreed. "But this is definitely a conversation I want to have, Hilde. But right now, we have to get the Gundams." She agreed, and he took off again, holding her hand this time. The warm pressure of his fingers brought a slight flush to her face- ridiculous, since they had been lovers. It was like rediscovering something that had been lost, and she fervently hoped things would work out. Duo weaved through the streets with the familiarity of long practice, and she realized that they were on his home turf. She'd never imagined that someone like Duo could come from such a place. Still, he had, and now she realized that she hardly knew him at all. He was like an onion; you peeled away one layer, only to find another new layer beneath. She wondered who the real Duo was. She wondered if he would ever show her. Finally he pushed into a large door, knocking on it. After passing a cover charge, the doors open to let couple in. "Stay close to me," Duo whispered. Hilde's eyes widened as she took in her new surroundings. She and Duo had just walked into one of the seediest bars in the galaxy. Momentarily she was reminded of the Cantina scene from an old movie she had loved- there were people of every walk of life, but all of them were dangerous. The lighting was greenish, and the air was so thick with illegal substances that it made the atmosphere outside seem like a fresh spring day in the Alps of Europe. Hilde was tempted to stare at a man who had some of the most unusual tattooing she'd ever seen, but once again, her common sense prevailed. This was Duo's scene; she would follow his lead. Duo flowed through the crowd like it was water, and she had a hard time keeping up. Twice she was propositioned, and she lost count how many times someone pinch her. Some of the pinches were not gentle, and Hilde knew that she would have bruises. Duo came to an abrupt halt, and she almost ran into his back. Grumbling to herself, she straightened her shirt, then stared at the woman who had caught Duo's attention. Was THIS their contact? she wondered. The woman in front of them was worth staring at. She was built like a bodybuilder who had been taking too many steroids, and half her head was shaved. The other half boasted uneven tuffs of green hair, and Hilde had the impression of a lawn someone hadn't finished cutting. She was wearing beat-up leather. The woman's eyes were a very pretty baby blue, which seemed at odds with the rest of her appearance. "Hilde, meet Nuance," Duo said. "She's selling us the car." "Hi," Hilde said, not knowing what else to say. The woman grinned, flashing uneven teeth. "It's in good condition, Maxwell." "It'd better be," Duo said grimly. She widened her eyes melodramatically. "Would I cheat ya, love?" "If you thought you could get away with it, yes," Duo replied, giving her a sweet smile. Nuance laughed, a bark that seemed to shake her entire body. "Usually you'd be right, but you're a special case, Maxwell." She leaned forward, looking at him with an intensity that was surprising in this uncouth and unconventional woman. "I've been keeping up with Earth, and I know what's going on. There are bounties out for you, dead or alive, and some of them even come from legit sources. I figure that if you have to go somewhere, I'd better help you. "I remember the war. Thing is, I understand it, unlike a lot of the bozos who are just angry. I had a brother- he was killed by the Federation. Since the Gundams went down, things are better. Not perfect, but I respect what you fought for- we have the freedom to make choices- if I want to be a goddamn smuggler, I can be. Sure, they're penalties, but they're not unreasonable. Not like they used to. "Listen to me. I sound sentimental. We'd better get out of here- your face has been plastered on all the Colonies and Earth. Most people here a little behind, but when the bounty hunters start coming in, they'll talk for the right amount of money." "Will you talk?" Hilde asked hesitantly as she followed the two out. Duo muttered something about people with long memories, and Nuance gave him a friendly clout on the shoulder. "Calm down, Maxwell." The streets seemed less threatening with the new woman. Hilde knew the woman was a smuggler (she'd as much as come out and admitted it point-blank), but she liked her. Something about her demeanor told her that Nuance genuinely liked Duo, and wouldn't betray him. The woman led then down an alley, and Hilde fingered her gun nervously. She wasn't stupid; this was the perfect opportunity for someone to kill the both of them. Nuance proudly gestured towards a rather battered car that was sitting at the end of the dead alley. Duo looked at it carefully, overlooking the outward appearance. "It's in good condition." Popping the hood, he let out a low wolf whistle. "Is this thing street legal?" "'Course not. If it was, it wouldn't be of much use to you." Duo grinned at her. "I like the way you think." He gave her a wad of cash. "I don't need to tell you that you don't know me," he said, his voice harsh. "Maxwell, I'm not stupid. Even if you didn't get even, your gal pal would," Nuance said. "You're not as stupid as you look," Duo said. "Wouldn't be alive if I was. Sok szerencsét, Duo," she said. She leaned in and kissed his cheek, then tugged his braid playfully. "Keep an eye on this, will you? A lot of people will see it as a trophy just about now." "Sure thing, Nuance!" he said as she disappeared into the shadows. Hilde took the passenger side of the car. "What did she tell you?" she asked curiously. She hadn't recognized the language Nuance had used. "Sok szerencsét- it's Hungarian for 'good luck'. Thing is, I think Nuance is primarily Italian. Then again, you can't tell on L2. Most people are of American descent, and the Americans are sort of… a mixed breed, I guess you could say." He frowned down at the car. "Let's see if I remember how to drive a standard," he said, shifting gears. The car lurched, and Hilde reached hurriedly for her safety belt. She remembered watching Duo pilot- he was damn good, but it looked like it was a rough ride for his poor MS. Obviously it extended to his driving abilities as well. The drive took a while, and it gave her too much time to think about what they were going to. She had only seen the Gundams up close a few times, and she wondered exactly what Duo had planned for her. She was a competent pilot, but there was no way she was up to piloting a Gundam. Did him mean for her to take Deathscythe while he took Zero? The stories she'd heard about the Zero system frightened her to death. Surely he didn't mean to put her in the cockpit of Wing Zero. No one but a lunatic could master it- a lunatic or a Gundam pilot. Maybe it took both qualities- after all, none of the pilots she'd met were exceptionally well balanced in the head. The roads on C were in poor shape. Duo swerved occasionally to avoid potholes, and she was glad she hadn't had lunch whenever they hit one. The jolting ride had her feeling nauseous. She was now heartily grateful that she hadn't had lunch on the flight down." Duo turned off the main road and if anything, the condition of the streets got worse. The bumps became more frequent, and Hilde was thrown against her seatbelt more times then she could count. The rubble that surrounded them surprised her; it looked like a war zone. It was a war zone, she realized after a second. This was where the rebels had fought the Federation almost ten years ago. Hilde recognized that Maxwell Church -what remained of it- had to be close by. Duo shifted the car into park, then took a deep breath. "Come on, Hilde. We have to walk." Wordlessly she slid out of the vehicle, setting her feet on the concrete and steel. They began to pick her way through the streets, heading in a roughly north direction. "Duo," she said after a few minutes of silent travel. He turned haunted eyes on her, and she wondered if she even ask her question. "Yes, Hil?" "Why isn't this place cleaned up? I mean, it looks like its been destroyed for a very long time." "No money. C Side has no residents, so what's the point? You saw C Port- that place is run down AND it has inhabitants- so why would anyone waste money cleaning up an area no one lives in? Makes it the perfect place for Shinigami, though. Or it was." She nodded, and they moved another two miles in. Finally Duo glanced around, and he seemed to recognize the place. "Stop right here, Hilde. Now we gotta dig." Go to Duo story Sub Rosa Act III Part III | Act IV Part II | Back to Sainan no Kekka