Getting into the charity ball being held at the government's palace in Prague was childishly easy. A bit of tweaking with the computer had her listed as one of the freelance security people hired to work the floors. A quick stop at the palace two hours before the doors opened had gotten her a Preventer dress uniform to wear to the event. The esteemed Gundam pilot and hero of the Eve Wars and the Uprising, Heero Yuy, was the coordinator for security. He had not looked pleased as he looked the freelancers over, but neither did he show any signs of recognition as his eyes slid across her face. Good.

She waited until the ball was well under way before making her move. Quietly, she abandoned her post near the ladies' restroom (why on earth he felt she needed to stand guard there?) and slipped down the hall. She wound her way through the palace and down to the subterranean levels. Built in pre-colonial days, the palace had been restored to its original grandeur by the Romefeller Foundation. Details on exactly what operations were conducted here during Romefeller's reign were sketchy, but whatever they were, the soldiers here had possessed high security clearances.

And then, there were some secrets that required a slightly more elegant key to unlock. She opened the door to a solarium on the northeast end of the building. Designed as a luxurious place to take breakfast, it had not been used since OZ moved out. Dust a quarter inch thick covered the furniture and came up in little puffs as her booted feet sank into the thick carpet. She closed and carefully locked the door behind her before crossing the room to the harpsichord that stood in front of the large windows. Seating herself in front of the instrument, she took a moment to try and remember what Dr. J. had drummed into her head just a few days before. Knowing how to play the harpsichord had not, until recently, been considered necessary for her training.

Then, her hands flew across the ebony and ivory keys with frightening speed and precision, and the first few strains of "Battle Hymn of the Republic" filled the solarium. Behind her, one of the bookcases swung forward with a creak. She knew only the first few bars and stopped once she exhausted her knowledge. Turning her attention to the opening behind the bookcase, she saw a set of stone stairs leading down into the dark. From her pocket, she took a penlight and turned it on. It made a tiny, fairy-like beam of light but did little to cut through the stairwell's pervasive gloom. Unbothered by the dark, she headed down.

The stone stairs, damp with moisture, wound down into the bowels of the earth, or so it seemed. She descended for what she estimated was five minutes before reaching a metal door with a wheel in the center like those seen on ships and submarines. Placing the penlight between her teeth, she had to use both hands to turn the rusty wheel and force the door open. The area beyond was as black as pitch. She beamed the penlight on the wall to the left, where she had been told to look, and it soon swept over the pad to activate the lights. She slapped it, and the lights came on high above her head. Slowly, at first, dim as they warmed, but soon the entire chamber was flooded with purple-white illumination.

Five bays designed for large mobile suits spread out across the far wall of the cavernous room, a series of consoles interposed between them and her. The bays were empty now, and the hangar door at the end of the underground room had been sealed shut over two years ago. Five bays…Treize had been optimistic. She walked over to the consoles and thumbed the power strip set into front of the first one. Slowly, the computer booted up, recalling what it meant to function. The technology was out-dated but not annoyingly slow. It only took a couple of moments for the operating system to load.

/Password/ it queried.

/Act 3/ she typed in response.

/Password confirmed. Loading mobile suit database./ Code began to stream down the screen. Soon, it coalesced into text and pictures. She watched it scroll by with cold detachment, then began saving it to a disk she had brought with her.

There they were—technical readouts for the five original Gundams. Deathwalker, Gate, Shadowdancer, Epyon, and Dragonbreak. All the blueprints and specifications—even handwritten notes by both those involved in their design and in the production carefully scanned into the computer. Data on the ZERO system as well. This was a mobile suit designer's wet dream—worth trillions to anyone who got their hands on it. From a historical perspective, it was priceless. There was very little information about the original series of Gundams—the Alliance had seen to that. She didn't care. Her mission was to retrieve the information and then hand it over to her superiors.

The console beeped at her, letting her know it had finished copying the information needed on to her disk. Putting the disk back in the pocket it had come out of, she shut down the computer and headed back upstairs. But not before turning out the lights.

Heero missed a step in the dance, but Relena didn't seem to notice. She was leading—she always led when they danced since that first time, at St. Gabriel's, when he had been unfamiliar with the steps—and she did it so subtly that only a handful of the most experienced might notice that Heero Yuy didn't really know this part of the waltz.

She was making small talk as they twirled around the ballroom floor, and he made sure to grunt in all the right places. They would dance this dance; then, she would go mingle with the other guests, and he would trail after her like a dutiful bodyguard. Lady Une had asked him, when giving him this mission, if he minded always being assigned to guard the Vice Foreign Minister. He told her no…he didn't mind. There wasn't anything better for him to do now that the wars were over, and, at least, he was familiar enough with Relena that it made the job easy. He didn't have a family to go back to like Trowa and Quatre, and he didn't have a lover to make a life with, like Duo. Wufei, it seemed, found great satisfaction in working as a Preventer. To Heero, it was just another job. It kept him sharp, alert, gave him an excuse to keep up his skills…even if there was little need for them in this post-war world. He didn't know what else to do with himself. He couldn't seem to relax, to settle.

He found himself admiring her necklace—a large sapphire pendant on a golden chain. When he'd asked her about it earlier, she had laughed and said it was on loan from a jewelry store. This ball—like any gathering of the famous, the wealthy, and politically powerful—was being well-photographed by the media. The jeweler had wanted the publicity of having Relena Darlian, media darling and former Queen of the World, captured wearing his necklace would bring. It looked, Heero concluded absently, like a giant, sparkling tear.

The music changed, and the dance, thankfully, ended. "Heero," Relena said, looking distractedly over his shoulder, "I see the Minister of Agriculture—quick, let's catch him before he disappears again." Taking his hand in her gloved on, Relena pulled him along as she weaved her way through the crowd. The giant chandeliers above their heads cast down a rich, golden light that was flattering to older skin and made the more youthful guests absolutely radiant. The man Relena cornered, however, needed more than fetching lighting to make him attractive. He did not look happy to see Relena either but was ever so polite to her as she greeted him. "I was wondering if, Minister, if you might take a few moments to explain to me that bill you introduced on Friday during the Cabinet meeting. The part about shipping fertilizers to the colonies…"

Heero shut out her chatter as she let go of his hand so she could hook her arm through the Minister's and steer the old man out into the hall where they could hear better. It also prevented the minister from finding an excuse to escape. He and Relena settled on a bench, partially shielded from the casual glance by a large potted fern. Heero took up a post on the opposite wall. The Minister of Agriculture was probably the least threatening person here tonight. His political agenda was virtually harmless—the man's great love was fertilizer. Heero didn't have to worry about the old man suddenly pulling a knife on Relena. Still, he kept half an eye on the minister as he checked the other activity in the hall. An older couple sat chatting quietly on another bench farther down the hall. To his right, the door to the women's restroom opened and two giggly debutants bustled out. The guard that he had posted beside the bathroom—one of the freelancers—was missing, he realized. Inwardly, he sighed. He really hadn't wanted to bring in outsiders, but the Preventers were so short-handed these days that it was impossible to cover events like these without pulling agents off equally important assignments elsewhere. He'd just have to see where that idiot had gotten to. The idiot was a she, he recalled, with red hair and a face that he kept thinking he should remember from somewhere. He took five steps towards the bathroom…

Those steps saved his life as the gigantic hand of a mobile suit came crashing through the wall. He heard Relena scream as plaster, brick, and concrete exploded into clouds of white dust. Heero was knocked to the ground when a large chunk of the wall struck his back. Much later, he would realize that being trapped under the slab had actually protected him from serious injury, but right now, he was more interested in getting to Relena as the rest of the debris rained down.

"Relena…" he croaked, the effort filling his lungs with dust and making him cough. Dimly, he was aware of men—probably armed---swarming in through the hole the mobile suit had punched in the wall. He heard incomprehensible orders barked in that distinctly military fashion as feet scrambled over the pile of rubble on top of him. Relena was screaming—he couldn't tell if it was out of fear or pain… He tried to push himself up, to shove the slab of concrete aside, but it was too heavy.

Gunfire. The rat-a-tat-tat of machine guns carried by the intruders and the occasional pop of the Preventers' handguns. Relena's screams were growing fainter and fainter as if she were moving away from him. He shoved harder against the rubble. Then, he couldn't hear her any longer. He tried again and again to worm his way free, but it was no use.

There was a great rumble above him as the mobile suit withdrew its arm from the palace. Echoing booms of heavy armaments came from outside the palace walls. If he didn't know better, then he would have thought it was mobile suit fire.

"Push up," a feminine voice ordered.

He looked up through his dust-caked eyelashes. Slim legs encased in brown Preventers' boots stood beside the part of the wall that was pinning him down. The slab shifted slightly. He pushed against it yet again, and this time it shifted enough to the side to allow him to crawl out on to the pile of rubble.

The woman who offered him a hand getting to his feet had straight red hair cut off at the shoulder and cold ice-blue eyes. He recognized her—the guard that had abandoned her post. "Are you injured?" she asked.

He did a quick assessment of his condition—scraped, bruised, and there was a slight pinch in his chest if he breathed too deeply…a small rib fracture, probably. "No."

She nodded and then turned on her heel and sprinted down the hallway. Heero ran after her. The intruders had withdrawn out the main entrance of the palace and were now fleeing across the lawn, hustling a captive along with them. He caught a glimpse of a blue dress and blond hair and knew it was Relena. There was an armored shuttle parked on the far end of the lawn—if they reached that, there would be no catching them.

Two dueling Gundams stood between him and Relena—Trowa's Heavyarms and an unknown model. Either Trowa had already run out of ammunition, or he was worried about harming bystanders, for the pilot was using the Gundam's giant knife rather than any of its guns. The other suit—which vaguely resembled the Altron, though it was painted mostly jade green rather than turquoise—had a beam saber out. It was less a duel than a game of "keep away" as Trowa dodged the sizzling green energy sword.

The red-haired woman didn't pause to watch the Gundams but took off towards a clump of trees at the edge of the palace gardens. Acting on instinct, Heero tore after her, his ribs protesting. She's fast, he thought as he ran full out to keep up. She disappeared into the shadowy murk beneath the trees. He followed, branches tearing at his arms and whipping him in the face. He skidded to a halt when he broke into a clearing. The red head was just climbing into the cockpit of a powered up Aries as another person ran off into the underbrush—probably the person who'd just delivered the Aries (there had been no mobile suits in this clump of trees when he had done his sweep several hours before the charity ball began).

Heero sprinted up the mobile suit and, seizing the woman's arm, yanked her to the ground.

She landed on her hands and knees in the grass. "What the…?"

"I'm commandeering your suit," Heero informed her tersely as he settled himself in the pilot's chair and slapped the button that closed the door.

"Like hell!" And then, she was in the cockpit with him as the hatch closed behind her. It was very, very cramped.

"Get out," he growled.

"No."

"I'm going after that shuttle."

"So am I." She turned around and settled herself on his lap, holding one hand over her shoulder, "Harness," as the other flew across the controls.

This was…awkward, but he didn't have any other ideas besides drubbing her unconscious and tossing her out the hatch. Something told him that she had a very hard head. With a scowl to the back of her head, he pulled the five-point harness over his head and hers. Her hand closed around the strap as it passed across her shoulder. "Spread 'em," she ordered.

He blinked.

Then, he realized that the harness clipped into a slot in the seat currently covered by his leg. Shaking his head (what was wrong with him?) he complied. The harness barely stretched over the both of them, even though they were both thin. He wondered how effective it would be if she crashed the Aries. She adjusted the frequency on the radio and then lifted the mobile suit up and out of the clearing. Glancing down at the radar, she punched a few buttons to highlight the enemy shuttle. "J. this is Red, come in."

A very familiar voice crackled out of the radio, "J. here. Did you get the data?"

The young woman took a disk out of her jacket pocket and slid it into a drive built into the radio. "Transmitting now."

"Dr. J.?" Heero asked in surprise.

"Red, I thought you made sure this channel was secure," the doctor scolded.

"I did," she snapped. The Aries was skimming the trees now, on a path to intercept the shuttle.

"Then how come Heero Yuy is listening in?" Dr. J. demanded.

"He's in the Aries with me."

"Oh." Then, "Oh! Quite a tight fit, I imagine!" The old scientist sounded a little too amused by the situation for Heero's taste.

Apparently for the girl's taste too, for he saw her purse her lips in the faint reflection off the view screen. "We are in pursuit of the shuttle carrying Vice Foreign Minister Darlian. It appears to be headed in the direction of the Prague Interstellar Spaceport. Please contact them and have them try to detain the shuttle for as long as possible."

"Data transfer complete, and sorry, Red, I'm afraid I can't do that. Our orders, you see, come from the same person who gave the orders to the men on that shuttle. A bit of a conflict of interest on my part if I help you." The doctor put a strange emphasis on the word "you".

Heero blinked. He knew that tone and knew all the frightful implications of it. Nerve-endings felt momentarily raw as he remembered the last time he had heard it in J.'s voice.

"Mission acknowledged."

They both had said it. At the same time. He felt her stiffen on his lap with surprise. There was a small screech over the radio as J. disconnected. He opened his mouth to say something, but she suddenly jerked the controls, making the Aries swoop to the side. The shuttle was in sight now, about six miles out from the spaceport. They were still flying over trees—Romefeller had dedicated this land to a nature preserve or something—and a lake was off to the east. She throttled the Aries forward. They were going to catch it.

A flash of light shot up out of the trees, catching the Aries on the left side, knocking off course. She corrected almost immediate—he couldn't have done a better job he admitted—and turned to face the enemy that had just fired at them. It was a Taurus, painted the old OZ purple. "Taurus, retrofitted for atmospheric maneuvering," she muttered as she brought the Aries' chain rifle up to bear, firing off a brief burst at the other mobile suit.

The Taurus dodged, moving to the side with inhuman speed, and began firing back. Its beam canon sent flashes of green energy sizzling by on all sides as she struggled to evade its attacks. "A mobile doll," Heero said flatly. He recognized the fighting style.

"Where'd they dig that up?" she asked nobody in particular as she leaned farther forward, straining against the harness as she tried to stay one step ahead of the doll. The Aries—practically an antique—was vastly out-gunned by the Taurus, and she would need a lucky shot to take it out. Unfortunately, it wasn't letting her get any kind of lock on it.

The radar started flashing and a little siren went off. Heero looked down—two more Taurus mobile dolls had appeared from the trees. A shot from one of the new ones grazed their left flank. Then, one hit them from behind. Both Heero and the girl were thrown forward, her head smashing against the view screen, his striking her collar bone then slamming back against the head rest. Little lights exploded in front of his eyes. All around the cockpit warning lights flared red and tiny sirens demanded attention—right engine gone, both stabilizers failing. The Aries was going down, the remaining engine propelling them to the left as the damaged stabilizers spun the suit nauseatingly. The last thing Heero saw was a glimpse of the lake before black rushed up to consume him.