O.O I'M SORRY::bows & grovels: It's been soooo long since I last updated! And I left off at a cliff-hanger, too! Will you ever forgive me, my beloved readers::bows:

:clears throat: Now for an explaination of my actions. At first, I was just waiting for reviews. I'm up to thirteen::cheers: That's the most I've EVER had for my stories! And they're all favorable::wipes away tears: Then I started getting busy, and I forgot all about updating! 0.0 Now that I'm part of the working class (aka, Ashe has a job) I might not be able to update as much as I'd like.

Anyways, sorry this chapter's a little slower than they have been, and probably a bit more boring. But it's good for characterization. And I wanted to let everyone know that Trinity won't just hop right back up from her ordeal. Real people just don't do things like that. And I wanted to put Bane back in good standing. Some who've read this still dislike Bane intensely, but they feel better about him . . . Well, if they don't, they soon will! Oooh, I'm so evil!

DISCLAIMOR: Why do I have to keep putting these thingies up? Shouldn't it be obvious that I don't own Gundam Wing? I mean, am I rich? No, that's why I have to work. And if I owned Gundam Wing, you can bet your britches that I would've killed off more than just Treize::evil laughter: So, don't own Gundam Wing. I have the series in manga form, but that's about it . . .

NOTICE: This chapter contains violence and a bit of gore. It should just be in the first part, so if that kind of stuff disturbs you, just kinda skip over it. Also, the scene with Trinity is continued, so you are forewarned! Sorry, but these things kinda had to be done. You'll figure it out later on. ;)

Bane swore loudly and colorfully. His rage rose as he raced down the hall to the small room at a dead run. He removed his gun from its holster, holding it ready. The room was far enough away that Bane wondered if he'd make it in time.

When he had awoken, exercised, and eaten, he had asked about the prisoners. Sergeant Doyle hadn't yet had time to interrogate them, but several of the soldiers had claimed to see several of the prisoners being escorted to the interrogation room by two other men. Suspicious, Bane had gone to the security room to ask the soldier what he had seen, and found him missing. Once glance at the monitor had told the major everything he needed to know.

Finally arriving at the door, he found it locked. Making use of his gun, he forcefully separated the door from doorknob and kicked it in. The young, blond woman had been forced to the floor naked, three soldiers holding her down. The fourth was bent over, his pants to his knees. Livid bruises were all over the young woman's body.

Bane's first shot caught the fourth soldier in his erect organ, his second pierced the man's knee, and the third and fourth caught him in his elbow and stomach. Screeching in pain, the soldier collasped to the floor, bleeding profusely. Training his gun on another soldier, he prepared to fire once more. Sergeant Doyle came seconds later, his gun on the offending soldiers. The men let go of the young woman, who seemed to be barely holding on to consciousness, and stepped away, avoiding looking at their bleeding companion.

"Get a doctor, now!" Bane shouted, his steel blue eyes glinting in murderous promise. Within seconds, doctors and nurses were inside the room, and the military police had come to arrest the men.

Seeing that everything was being taken care of, Bane holstered his gun and stalked to Colonel Harrison's office, knowing he would want to see him.

"Am I to understand that you're condoning their actions!" Bane demanded angrily, then he added, "Sir."

Harrison looked about nervously. "I'm not saying that what they were about to do was right, but don't you think you were-"

"I did what I had to do, Colonel," Bane told him firmly, making the title an insult. His platinum black hair fell in front of his steely eyes, making him look more than capable of mass homicide. Before Bane could continue, a private knocked on the door. Grateful for the opportunity to get out from under Bane's glare, Harrison answered the door. The private handed him a tape, and whispered something, glancing at the enraged major. The colonel nodded, and waved him away. He turned to the major, his skin noticably paler and a paniky look in his eye.

"There's been some, uh, new evidence brought to me," he said with false confidence. Bane continued to glare at him, and Colonel Harrison shoved the tape in the VCR and pushed play then fast-foreward. "Now, don't get excited, Major . . ."

The black and white footage depicted the same four men beating the male prisoners. The scenes went by quickly, fortunately. Then the soldiers brought in the other woman from the base. They beat her, like they did the other prisoners, then preceded to rape her. The colonel quickly shut off the television, wiping the sweat from his brow.

An eerie calm came over Bane's features. "Do something about this, Colonel."

"Major Marquise, these things have to be handled delicately-"

Bane shoved Harrison against the wall, a nine-inch knife appearing in his hand. There was no emotion in his eyes or voice. "Do something . . . or I will."

The door slammed open, and General Bunt stormed in. "Major! That will be all!"

The platinum black haired man slowly pulled away from Harrison. His expression was no less frightening, but the knife had once again disappeared. He turned to the general, and snapped a salute.

"You're dismissed," the general, making it an order. Bane turned on his heel, and left the colonel's office.

She didn't realize where she was at first, but the memory of the attack quickly brought her back to reality. Tears of shame trickled down her face. Her hand went to her stomach reflexively, and she wondered if any damage had been done to her unborn child. Suddenly, her hand clenched into a fist. She bit her lip, and wasn't at all surprised when she tasted blood.

A stiffled sob caught her attention, and she glanced to the bed beside her, where a tiny, toothpick thin girl sat. Her curly, golden hair was tousled from a nap, and her ice blue eyes stared at Trinity in curiosity and timidity. She wore a white nightgown that went to her thin ankles, and made her look cherubic, if not for the unshed tears that shone in her almost too-big eyes.

"Hi," Trinity greeted with a forced, friendly smile, sitting up painfully. The girl stared at her. "What's your name?"

"She doesn't have one," a kind tenor replied from the doorway. He was short, possibly shorter than Trinity, and had flaming red hair that seemed to stick up on all sides. His freckles made him look twelve, but his deep brown eyes held a soul far too old for the youthful face.

"Who're you?" Trinity asked, noting that he was wearing the Allies' Army's navy blue and black uniform.

The man walked in. "Sergeant Marvin Doyle. But you can call me Doyle, even Sergeant. Anything but Marvin."

Trinity didn't smile, but she saw that the girl had welcomed the soldier with an enthustiastic wave. "What do you want?"

"Just some basic information," he told her, waving a clipboard. He sat down between their beds. "So, what's your name?"

"Why don't you ask the other prisoners?" she countered stubbornly.

He raised his pale eyebrows. "Given the circumstances, I don't think they'd tell someone like me anything that didn't strictly pertain to themselves. Besides, this is just for the doctors."

"If it's for the doctors, why do they need to know my name?"

"Well, what do you want to be called then? Blondie?"

The little girl grinned as if that were the best joke she'd ever heard.

"Trinity," she told him finally. He looked at her expectingly. "No last name."

"Okay," he said, writing it down. "Date of birth?"

"Just put down that I'm over eighteen."

"Any allergies that we need to know about, like medications, latex, cotton . . ."

"Cotton?" Trinity asked, unable to help herself. She had never heard of someone with a cotton allergy.

"Yeah, cotton," Doyle said somewhat miffed. "I had a fourth cousin, thrice removed on my father's mother's side that was allergic to cotton."

It took Trinity a few moments to realize he was joking. "I'm not allergic to anything but Allies' Army soldiers."

"Well, then I guess we'll have to give you an allergy shot," he told her matter-of-factly. "Have you had any problems with addictions in the past?"

"Only addicted to freedom."

"Okay, fair enough. Any tattoos or body piercings?"

She rolled her prussian blue eyes. "Yeah, I have my eyebrow pierced and a big ol' ogre tattooed on my butt."

"Really?" he asked in polite interest, writing down negatives; at least she hoped they were negatives answers. "Hmm, any diseases or illnesses?"

"Yeah, I'm hungry."

"I'll get you some food in a bit," he told her. "Okay, last question. I take it you've never been pregnant or nursing?"

Trinity bit her lip, hard. "I . . . I th-think I might s-still . . ."

"I'll tell the doctor than," he said understandingly. He stood and turned to leave, then stopped, looking at her with his soulful brown eyes. "I'm sorry as hell for what happened, Trinity. It's not supposed to be like this."

He left, leaving Trinity staring up at the ceiling with only a nameless girl for company.

Solo stood on the hill, looking over the remains of his home. Behind him, he could hear the large shuttle landing. The wind kicked up from the landing, further tangling his shoulder length locks. He heard the shuttle door hiss open almost as soon as it touched down on the ground.

"Solo!" a woman's voice yelled. He turned to see his twin sister racing towards him. Her waist length, chestnut brown hair flew behind her, woven in a single plaited braid. She stopped short of colliding with her twin, her violet eyes unable to hide her worry. After a few heartbeats of her looking over him, making sure his shoulder was the only injury he had, she threw her arms around him, mindful of both his wound and her round belly.

"God, I was so worried!" she whispered fiercely. She pulled away and looked him in his eyes.

"You shouldn't have come, Helen," Solo scolded mechanically. "Space travel's rough on the baby."

"And miss the chance to find out first hand that my brother's alright?" she replied incredulously.

Marcus Winner, Helen's husband, was the next out of the shuttle. He strode purposefully towards his wife and Solo, an expression of sympathy on his handsome face. His sea green eyes fell on Solo's right arm, resting in a sling, and went back to his face. As he approached, he ran a nervous hand through his platinum gold hair.

"Where's everyone else?" he asked.

"They'll be here shortly," Solo replied. "They're holdin' a funeral service for everyone who . . . didn't make it."

Marcus nodded understandingly, but said nothing. What was there to say? After a few minutes, he said mildly, as if commenting on the weather, "You said you knew who was behind the attack."

"It was Marquise," Solo told him. His jaw clenched tightly.

"I don't understand," Helen said, her brow furrowed. "Isn't he stationed in space?"

"That's what I thought," Marcus agreed.

"I saw him," Solo growled, glaring at his sister and friend. "You think I didn't?"

"I didn't say that," Helen replied, holding her hands up. "All I'm sayin' is that it's weird. I mean, why did they send Marquise all that way just to destroy some puny little wannabe-base in the middle of nowhere? It doesn't make sense."

"He was there," Solo told them firmly. "I don't know why, I just know that I saw him."

"Solo, we aren't saying you didn't see him," Marcus began, but the survivors started up the hill. Shawn, helping Karen, was the first to reach them.

"Let's get the hell outta here," he said, his expression oddly closed.

Marcus nodded. "Alright. We should have plenty of room on the ship for everyone."

"I would rather be cramped than have plenty o' room," Karen muttered as she shifted her weight. Dr. Hollister and Tripe were next, followed by the others. Marcus led them to the shuttle, helping them inside.

Solo forced himself to take one last look at the charred remains below, and left for the shuttle.

Bane attacked the punching bag in another round of frenzied blows. Sweat beaded on his forehead and ran down his face, but he took no notice of it. His steel blue eyes were on the object swaying in front of him. He finished with a powerful kick that made the bag swing back for several feet. With a deep breath, Bane stepped back to allow himself to calm down and to let the bag stop its movement.

General Townsend walked in, his jet black, thinning hair contrasting horribly with his snowy white mustache. "You're lucky Colonel Harrison won't be pressing charges, Major."

"That's because he's afraid of me," Bane replied, wiping the persperation from his handsome face. If the general was insulted or surprised by his relaxed manner, he didn't show it.

"Indeed he is," Townsend laughed. "But I'm afraid it took some persuading on my part to make sure he didn't try to transfer you to another base, far away from himself."

"I take it he's put in for a transfer himself, then?" asked the young man. He toweled his platinum black locks dry.

"Yes, but it will be denied," the general told him. "Right now, he's far too important here for us to just let him leave."

Bane turned to Townsend, not bothering to hide his anger. "He tried to protect those - those animals. I don't see why the Allies' Army doesn't try him right along side those bastards."

"I understand your anger, Major," the general said. "But right now, he's just too important. However, when all this blows over, I assure you Harrison will be dealt with harshly."

The younger man nodded, but said nothing. He grabbed the water bottle and drank eagerly. The general noted that he seemed more worn than ususal, his skin seeming pale against the black of his uniform pants and undershirt. Townsend frowned slightly, thinking.

"I hear you're not sleeping," he commented, looking at Bane closely for a reaction. The young man nodded, and glanced away. He looked back at the older man with an unreadable expression.

"I'm beginning to remember," he replied softly. Townsend stepped up to him, and clasped him on the shoulder affectionately.

"Don't fight it," he told him with a fatherly smile.

"I'm remembering things," Bane continued, his brow furrowing. "Very distubring things."

"Don't fight it," the general reiterated. He stepped away, knowing the younger man needed space. Bane looked at him again.

"There's something I don't understand."

"Go on."

"Why," he began, the stopped, searching for a way to put his confusion into words. "How was the base as threat? There couldn't possibly have been anything there."

Townsend bowed his head and clasped his hands behind his back. As he paced, he spoke. "Three children of the Gundam pilots were stationed there, which is why we wanted prisoners. You are familiar with the Gundam pilots, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Being the children of the Gundam pilots, we hoped that they would have infinitely more information than most other rebels," he said. He waved his hand, as if waving away the topic. "But, I'm not here to talk about that."

Bane waited quietly, searching the general's lined face. He was surprised to find something akin to sorrow on it.

"We've had to schedule your exam a full month in advance," Townsend told him.

"I see," Bane nodded, wondering why this would cause the general distress. "Because I'm remembering more?"

The older man glanced at him in shock, but it melted away. "Yes. Perhaps the treatment can further your memory."

"Perhaps," Bane agreed, though he had little hope it would do so. He had been undergoing the treatment every three months for two years, and had little improvement.

"I can see you have lost faith," Townsend said with amusement. "Don't. The treatment will help. Your memory will return."

"You've been saying that for two years now, General," Bane told him, turning away. "It's hard to keep faith."

"I'm sure that once this treatment's over, you'll feel differently," he replied, walking out of the exercise room. Bane shook his head and sighed, clearly not believing what General Townsend was saying.

See? Now don't you feel bad for poor Bane? No? Well . . . That's okay! 'Cause I don't expect you to! I hope all of you forgive me (and Bane) eventually::hands out brownies, because she doesn't have cookies handy:

Reviewers::is very, very happy:

gabrieldarke - I know it was mean. But it had to happen! Glad you liked it, and hope you like this updated version, too!

GavindaDai - I hope I got your name right . . . Anyways, thanks for reviewing for ALL of the chapters! I was just expecting one review! lol Anyways . . . Nope, Solo's still very much important in the plot. I won't kill him . . . yet. Okay, okay! I dunno if I'll kill him at all! I'm having issues with too many surviving peoples! You know how I am, I like to make everything as angsty and miserable as possible . . . :)

The One and Only Me! - lmao I know who you are! I know where you live! I saw you as you typed this up! Do not think that you can hide from me so easily::sighs: You know I don't have much time to write anymore. What with hanging out with you and Donlad, and working . . . I have a full schedule now. :( I'm not sure I like it very much . . .