Good, he's leaving, she thought as she looked at her suits display screen and it showed that tall, dark, pain in the ass turning his suit around and heading back like she'd told him to ten minutes ago. She tried to make herself a bit more comfortable in her cock pit because she was going to be there for a while. First the medical unit had to check all of the wounded over and treat them. Then they'd begin organizing the burial pyres for the Raiders; for a wonder none of their own people had been killed or she would have heard about it. They might possibly be fatally wounded, but they weren't dead yet.
"Hey Number One," a voice she couldn't place right then in her exhausted state that filled her body and mind as the adrenaline of a battle receded crackled over her suits com. "Are you still in there?"
"Yes," she replied tiredly. "I'm okay, I'm just going to get some shut-eye while you guys finish up here."
"Roger that," he said in a tone that clearly said 'hey, you're the boss.' Midii smiled a little and moved her good arm to massage tired eyes.
Midii squirmed and considered unbuckling her restraining straps; her side was killing her! Well, not really, but it sure did hurt a lot. When she'd leapt in front of Bryson, er, Trowa's suit to save him from the blast of those missiles it had seriously damaged her cockpit and she'd sustained some physical injuries; a minor electical burn and a few cuts from flying shrapnel but it wasn't anything life-threatening. She had a nick along her left cheek that the blood was already drying over, a small electrical burn along her forearm from when she hadn't moved her arm fast enough, but what hurt the worst was the two small shards of metal embedded in the flesh on the outside of her shoulder and her second lowest rib. She might need stitches for those ones once she get them removed from her flesh, but she wasn't bleeding to death so she could afford to wait until her men had been seen to. She hadn't entirely been joking when she'd told Cathy that her life was meant to serve. Her Homeguard was her first prioity, they had to eat before she ate, drink before she drank and have shelter before she sought her own bed. That was just good command right?
Her suit wasn't going anywhere under its own power that was for sure! Stupid Trowa and his stupid recklessness, she steamed. If she hadn't thought he was Bryson and went to face insanely stiff odds in order to protect him and as a consequence taken on the hits of ten micro missiles her suit would still be working! That jerk. Then again, she might still have faced those odds in order to protect him even if she'd known who he was. Cathy would have been sad if she'd brought her only adopted brother home in a pine box, yeah, that was it. Cathy had mentioned the guy being some kind of important war hero, not that Midii would know anything about that since news of the outside world almost never reached the interior of her tiny little country. Famous war hero or not, it didn't change the fact that he was a jerk.
He'd stolen her brother's suit and intruded in the middle of her battle without even checking with her to see if it was okay and when she tries to get him to help out with her strategy he ignores her orders without even a grunt of acknowlegement to charge straight into the middle of enemy troops like some kind of action hero. Granted, his skills were even more impressive now that they had been when he'd been a small boy, but he had wasted most of the ammunition that she and Bryson had carefully stockpiled, scrimped and saved. Ammunition was a precious and rare resource these days, and getting even harder to aqquire as time went by; she generally liked to wait and strategize a way to fight a battle using the most expendable resources first (such as the home-made launchers and explosives) before she started throwing all of her expensive bullets at the enemy. But would he listen to her? Of course not! He just walzed onto her battlefeild in her country like he owned the damned suit and busted out like he was some kind of action commando, one man army unit! That jerk.
Now look at my suit! she bemoaned to herself. She'd never be able to get it repaired in time for the big migration which meant that she'd have to make alternate arrangements. She momentarily entertained the idea of asking Cathy for a ride in her trailer; nice comfy seats... a real bed (she hadn't slept in a real bed in... it had probably been years). Then she remembered that Cathy now shared her trailer with her adopted younger brother; Midii tried to picture herself being cooped up for five days almost alone with him but only came up with images that had them trying to kill each other, with her always as the victor of course.
She checked the display screen in her suit and ran a diagnostic. The damage was extensive. Her ballast system was shot, a third of the electrical wiring in the cock-pit would have to be replaced, her weapons were off line, her main driver system was unresponsive, she was completely missing the lower portion of her left leg, and the armor plating had melted off in some places.
She could already hear the voice of her mechanic and she knew precisely what his verdict would be... after he got through swearing that is. He'd tell her that the suit was scrap; and if she asked him if they could replace the leg and such with parts from other scrap suits they kept around for that purpose he'd say the leg could be replaced easily but the ballast system... they'd have to completely disassemble the suit and reassemble it with the system scavenged from another mobile suit and that they'd be lucky if it was the same make and model as this one. Damn! After all of her battles in it, Midii had sort of grown attatched to the suit too. Stupid Trowa. Bryson would never have put her in danger like that; of course Bryson would have known she'd follow him and so he wouldn't have put himself in danger like that.
Micheal... she thought, thinking back on the last discussuion she'd had with him, just outside the tent with a Preventors meeting going on outside. He'd been pretty adamant about her not giving away any of the numbers they had on Sacred Omega. He'd still felt that that terrorist group was the one they should be negotiating with. He'd stormed off in a huff and she'd thought at the time that he'd cool off in a few hours and come back and they'd talk it out. But he hadn't come back. She'd searched all over the Haven for him but she couldn't find him and nobody had seen him at all that evening. Since his suit was still there she figured that he'd just gone out for a walk to cool down and he'd be back in the morning and she could make up to him then. But he hadn't been back when she woke the day after their fight. She's asked around again but no one had seen him. He hadn't even showed up for the big meeting with all of the Coordinators, right when she needed her second the most he wasn't there at her side. This just wasn't like him, disappearing like that.
Where could he be? she wondered worriedly. Maybe he'd he gotten attacked? Or maybe he'd been taken by the encroaching forces after he'd left the safety of the Haven that evening. Maybe he was lying out there dead somewhere and she didn't know it.
When she'd seen his suit appear in battle she'd felt so relieved. She'd thought that despite whatever small matter they quarreled over he'd always be there to back her up when she needed it most. He certainly always had before. He'd always been there and she'd come to rely on him to always be there. Maybe he'd been feeling like she was taking advantage of him and maybe she had been, a little. He was always so cheerful and easy-going about everything that she took it for granted tat anything she asked was okay. He was like her own brother, her family when she so desperately needed a sense of family.
Oh brother, just come back so I can apologize for whatever I did, she thought. Bryson was the closest thing she had to family, they'd been there for each other through thick and thin. He wouldn't just abandon her, she knew that as sure as she knew her own name. Had something happened to him? Was he even now out there somewhere maybe lost and hurt waiting for her to come and look for him?
I'm so tired, she suddenly realized as a yawn ambushed her by surprise. She'd been stressed out for the past few days and then there was that interminable meeting, and she hadn't slept well the night before only to have her restless dreams interrupted by the call to arms. She closed her eyes. Since she was going to be stuck here for a while out on the northernmost edge of the battlefeild she might as well catch up on some sleep. Her people were well trained, they could handle the clean-up without her supervision. She'd start searching for Bryson after she got her people back safe to the Haven. Midii drifted back into an exhausted sleep.
She was home. She could see the beloved and cozy little house she'd spent her happy childhood years in rising in front of her as she stood at the edge of the woods, her favorite scent, the scent of the forest mixed with the air of the nearby sea filled her nostrils. Midii gave a small laugh for joy and rushed eagrely down the path and up to the front porch. Wouldn't her father be surprised and happy to see her now so suddenly. How she had missed them all! The front door wasn't even locked... odd. It swung open without a sound to reveal to her the empty soundless interior of her home. Midii's sense of unease sharpened and grew. There was no sound inside, it was all still.
"Papa?" she called. "Papa? It's me!"
She took the wooden steps leading upstirs two at a time, her feet unconsciously moving to miss the creaking spots on them.
"Papa?" she called again, arriving in front of his door at the top of the steps. "Papa?"
She pushed the door open. Suddenly she was out in the middle of an open feild again. Columns of smoke rose into the air and the wind was chill and bitter with winter and death. She looked around her; smoking scraps of rubble and mobile suit parts still sparked and burned and the ground seemed to still hum from the impact of the blasts. There were many little mounds that lay too still.
"papa, where are you?" Midii called.
In front of her suddenly was a young boy with apathetic green eyes staring down blankly at the lifeless body stretched out beside where he stood. Nanashi.
"Have you seen my father?" she asked him. The young boy made no move to acknowledge her. Midii moved closer to get his attention.
"Hey..." she said, reaching out to tap his shoulder and by accident her eyes brushed over the still form at Nanashi's feet. Instead of the scarred and bearded face of the Captain, Midii saw the face of her beloved father staring up at her with sightless eyes. In horror she looked away only to see her father's face on another of the dead soldiers. She looked around her at all of the sleepers. Dead, dead, dead... and they all wore the face of her father.
Midii's eyes shot open. Bloody hell, twice in one night! Well, actually it was morning now; but still. She was only a little surprised that she woke in her cock-pit, her home away from the Havens. She had lost count of the number of times she'd fallen asleep and woken up in her cock-pit; as a place protected from the cold and storms it was sometimes better than her tent and when she was tired enough she could sleep anywhere. The suddeness of her startling awake jarred the wound on her shoulder and her rib and she sucked some air through her teeth. Ouch, they really hurt. She was tired but she wasn't sure if she wanted to fall back asleep again. Now the jerk was invading her dreams! Why couldn't she have nice happy dreams of her home when she slept? Why were all of her dreams just like her waking life; dreary and filled with war? Was she becoming like him? Was this what Nanashi dreamed about? God she hoped not.
She'd spent all night fighting a tough battle in a storm and right now she'd take any kind of dreams, so long as she'd get some sleep. Even the hard seat of her cock-pit felt soft as she closed her eyes until her men were ready to pick her suit up and carry her back to the Haven.
She was jarred again out of a light dreamless doze by her suit being moved abruptly.
"Hey, what do you fellas think you're doing out there? Can't you see I'm trying to sleep?" she asked, her tone only half joking tiredly.
"You'll sleep better inside Haven defenses Number one," another voice she didn't recognize right off hand replied over her com. Since she didn't have a lot of choice anyway and she was simply to tired to open her cockpit, climb out and make her way to the aven on foot, she allowed them to pick up her suit like so much overly large baggage and carry her away.
Once she arrived and her suit was laid, with some attempt at gentility, out on the ground she had to manually force open her cockpit because the automatic opening mechanism was also shot. The damp dawn hung heavily in the air and the clouds hung overhead like a low ceiling. The storm of the previous night had faded to a dreary grey mizzle; it wasn't quite heavy enough to be a drizzling rain yet it wasn't light enough to be called mist. Great, and it was still cold.
"Hey there girl," a familiar and welcome voice said from behind her when she arrived on the ground. Midii's heart leapt. He was okay! He wasn't dead or dying somewhere without her and he hadn't left her behind for good! Midii whirled and leapt at him, surprised to find tears of releif streaming down her face.
"Michael! You're okay! I was so worried when you didn't come back and no-one knew where you were and I couldn't find you and do you have any idea how much you frightened me-" she babbled in an endless stream while holding him tight. it might have partly been exhaustion that was to blame for the state of her emotions, she just knew she was relieved to have her adopted big brother back that she was bedewing his shoulder with tears.
"Okay, okay..." he said soothingly. "Jeeze I leave you for a day or two and you fall all to peices."
"Shut-up Bryson," she said without heat, giving him a watery smile.
"That's my Midii," he said cheefully. "Now it's off to the med-unit to get those wounds looked at." He held up a hand to forestall a protest. "I know you don't think they're serious and they can wait, but all of the really bad cases have been attended to by now and the medics are just looking at minor wounds. Say, it's not like you to get even minor wounds... what happened?"
Midii gave him the rundown of the battle and the fact that Trowa-the-war-hero had stolen Michael's suit and proceeded to spend most of his ammo and fight recklessly in it.
Her position in Homeguard had gotten them a somewhat private area of the tent in which to talk while Bryson carefully removed the metal from her shoulder and bandaged the wound while Midii told him about the fact that she'd damaged her own suit beyond repair trying to save his life.
"Well you can just take my suit then," he said as if it was no big deal.
"Micke we don't have any extra suits, what will you pilot?" she asked worriedly.
"Actually," he sid, taking a deep breath. "I've decided that I'm done piloting."
Midii stared at him in shock. Michael was always bragging about his skills as a pilot, mostly to women in an attempt to lure them into his sleeping roll for the evening, but there was truth to his wildly exaggerated tales. He was a good pilot and she counted on his abilities and tactical leadership while fighting to get everyone through the battle safely. They were most effective when working together, she'd take one half of the feild, he the other and together they'd get the job done. She'd really missed that in the recent engagement, in her mind the ruthless efficiency of hotshot Trowa Barton in no way made up for Michael's cheerful obsinacy in the feild.
"But Michael-" she protested.
"Don't Midii," he cut her off. "I was going to say this sooner or later so don't think it was anything you said or did. I want out Midii... I just-- I want out."
"Michael?" she said, her brow furrowing in confusion.
"Look, you've done great things here girl. Whether it's because of natural talent or just the fact that you're too damned stubborn to ever give up on anything the people of this poor country trust you; people love you and people respect you because you've never once let them down."
"Michael, I don't... I don't understand," she said. "Tell me what I did wrong and I'll fix it."
"That's just it Mids," he said. "You think you can fix everything. You think that if you work hard enough and try hard enough you'll be able to solve everybody's problems. You think you can do it, but you can't."
"That doesn't tell me anything," she said. Her shoulder twinged as her big brother removed the sliver of metal embedded into it. "Why do you want to go?"
"We've been fighting non-stop since... since we were kids, right?"
"Yeah," she said with a weak yet fond smile. "It's always been you and me, we took care of each other like family's supposed to."
"First it was against the Alliance, and then there were all those different factions who were fighting against each other about who got to wash His Excellency Trieze's purple socks... or something. And after that the Raider attacks sprung up, and now we have Sacred Omega and Preventors to worry about."
"Yeah? And? We'll just deal with them like we did everyone else," she said in puzzlement.
"What if I don't want to deal with them?" he replied. "What if I don't want to have to worry about another crazed faction creeping in to wipe us out? What if I don't want to have to guard the borders with my mobile suit?... What if I just want out?"
"You're saying you want to leave me?" Midii asked, hurt and worried. Bryson was all she had in the world, the only person she could sort of call family. They'd been through it all together.
"I'm saying I want a chance at a normal life," he said. "I tried Midii, I really did. I just can't do this anymore."
Midii couldn't repress a sniffle as the tears brimming in her eyes flowed over and slid down her cheeks leaving silver trails behind them. She forced her voice to work past her tightened throat.
"You think I like this mess I'm in?" she asked him. "Do you think I enjoy waking up to go out and fight, facing down fleets of people who want to kill me, then having to deal with all these internal affairs that get sloughed off onto me? Dp you think this is what I want my life to be like? I never asked for any of this. I never wanted this responsibility, but like it or not I got it."
You have it because you deserve it," Bryson said. "You have it because you're strong enough and stubborn enough to rise to the challenge every time and overcome it because you don't give in."
"And neither should you!" she replied. "We've been through so much together; if we can just hang on a little longer-"
"What? What's gonna happen?" he demanded. "Will the situation magically get better? Will the country suddenly turn into a strong stable nation?"
"Not overnight, no," Midii said. "But if everyone all tries together we can make things better than they are. We've done it before, Bryson look how far we've come! There was a time when everyone around us including the two of us was nothing more than part of a long line of starving refugees walking down a road somewhere between nowhere and nowhere with nothing to look forward to but more death and more hunger and more battles. Now look at us, we're organized, we have enough food and fresh water, we're capable of defense--"
"We're barely hanging on!" he negated hotly. "Our so-called forces are barely able to beat back a Raider attack."
"But we did defeat them," she returned fire just as hotly.
"Yeah? For how long? When do we get a break huh? When do we finally get to put down our weapons and rest? And just when do we get to leave these Havens we've built and build a normal life?"
"I don't know Bryson, but if we give in it won't ever happen," she replied quietly.
Bryson sighed.
"That's just how you need to be."
"I can't do this without you," she said softly. "Please don't leave. I've had everyone else in my life leave me behind. I don't think I could stand it if you left too."
"Yeah Midii, you could... you can; because you have to."
She knew it would do no good to argue with him. He'd made up his mind and Midii couldn't say in all honesty that her brother hadn't earned a chance at a normal life. He'd been through everything she had been through. They'd been through battles, invasions, taking up the cause after the old commander dies and building up Homeguard from a small resistance cell to a country-wide organization with munitions and suits. He'd been through it when they'd agreed to take on defending the refugees building themselves a shelter to hide behind and wait until the war finally ended. He'd been through it all with her; the late-night planning sessions, the frustrations with the Provisional Government, the harvest, the attacks, the counter-attacks... it was a lot to try to live through. She bent her head... accepting it. He had earned the right to try to find some happiness. She couldn't hold him back through any selfish desire of hers, that wasn't what family was about.
"Alright Micke, she said. "When do you leave? I'll want to say goodbye and good-luck you know."
"Now," he said. "I was just waiting around for you to come back."
"So soon?" she said, a little desperately. Midii didn't know if she was ready to let her only family go so suddenly.
At least I get to say good-bye, she tried to console herself. I didn't even get to say good-bye then.
"I think it would be best if it were done this soon; make the break quick and clean."
It sounds like a mercy killing, she thought. Feels like one too. Then why was she not dead?
"Okay," she said softly. "I assume you're all packed and ready to go then."
"Yeah," he said.
"I'll meet you at the gate in a few minutes then to say good-bye... I just... need a minute," she said.
"Sure," he said.
Midii could only sit there for a few seconds, like someone in the midst of shock. The hurt of her wounds had receded, in fact she didn't feel anything... except the urge to bury her head in the cot's tiny excuse for a pillow to scream and weep. She clenched her teeth while her throat burned and tightened and her eyes stung. She couldn't afford to lose it. If she lost it now people would know she'd been crying when she went out there to see him off and that wasn't right. Midii had stopped believing in sad good-byes a long time ago. A hug and a smile was the best way to send someone away from you; that way in case they never saw you again their last memory of you was a happy one.
With an effort of sheer will Midii pushed herself up off the little cot in the medical tent and tried to straighten her appearance as best she could. She didn't want her best-friend's last memory of her to be one with her looking like something dragged across a bramble patch by the heels. True, she had just been through a battle, but she could make an effort to look presentable. She walked back to her tent in a daze and changed her worn and wrinkled blue coverall (that had been slept in, bled on, and though a midnight battle) for a fresher, clean one. Midii brushed out her hair and carefully twirled it up into a neat and perfect french twist, taking some nearby water from a basin to smooth out the fly aways. She didn't have anything like a mirror so she couldn't have said for certain whether or not she looked okay, but it would have to do. SHe took a deep breath, and then another, then forced her third breath to be shallower before it devolved into a sob. If she started crying she probably wouldn't be able to stop herself. SHe swallowed to clear the lump lodged in her throat, and then swallowed again and again until she felt it ease a little. It wouldn't do for her goodbye to Michael to be in a voice choked with greif now would it? She forced her unwilling muscles into a smile and they stopped as soon as she stopped paying attention. Stubbornly she tried again, it probably looked more like she was wincing in pain she reflected but it was better than nothing.
I'm as ready as I'm ever going to be, she thought. Which was to say that she was not ready at all. But ready or not there she went. She stepped firmly out of her tent and forced herself to stride purposefully over to the gate. SHe could do this. She could do this... She had to do this. She carefully controlled her breathing and forced herself to smile. Bryson was waiting there at the gate with his single travel bag at his feet.
"All set?" she asked as she reached him.
"Yep," he said.
"Where are you going?" she asked. "I could send-"
"No. I don't think I'll need an escort," he said. "I know it's more dangerous out there but we both know you and I are exprets at slipping behind enemy lines. I'll be fine."
"I know-- I know you will," she said. She swallowed and sent him a weak, tight smile. "DOn't forget to send me a postcard. I want to see all the exciting new places you go since I can't go to them with you."
"You know I'm not good at writing letters Midii," he said a little mebarrasedly.
"Well, you'd better get good. I'm not just one of your Haven girls you can leave behind you know; I'm your family and if I don't hear from you in two months I'm going to come looking for you to make sure you're alright," she said feircely.
"I believe you'd tear the entire Earth Sphere apart stone by stone to find me," he said. "Don't worry. I'll write you as soon as I get where I'm going so you won't come after me. I don't think I would live through you in one of your frantic states."
"I'm never frantic, stupid," she said. "You just take care of yourself."
Bryson pulled her into a tight hug and Midii held on just as tight. She didn't want to let him go but she had to. SHe didn't want to see him walk away, but she had to. She could be that strong for him, because she had to. At last they separated. Bryson put space between them purposefully and said
"It's time to go Mids. Time to part ways."
"May god stand between you and all harm in all of the empty places where you must walk," she quoted. "It's an old blessing."
"Well with my reputation for hedonism, I guess I could use all the blessings I can get," Bryson said with his trademark roguish grin. Midii forced herself to smile back.
Bryson turned and slung his bag onto his shoulder, then walked out of the Haven gate, never once looking back. Midii watched him until she couldn't see him anymore and then just stood there in the cool air of morning as the heavy mist curled around her and the first few droplets of true rain pelted at the already soaked ground. Midii stood there silently refusing to let the tears fall, but in the end... she just blamed it on the rain.
And they tell me I'll be fine, that it will all get better
Just try to write it down, or put it in a letter.
But the words won't play
Cause there's easy way to say….goodbye. Goodbye.
Keep my head on straight and don't look down.
When All I've pushed away, I'm loosing ground.
But they tell me I'll be fine
That it will all get better…
And from the sidelines watch me fall down…
And I don't understand the things I do.
But I'll probably be fine as long as I keep moving
I'll try to write it down, so things can keep improving
But the words won't play
Cause there's no easy way to say
Good bye…
The lyrics belong to Natalie Imbruglia from the album "White Lilies Island."
Next time on Legacy: In which our two heroes have yet another not-argument….
"Is that all you came to say?" he inquired softly.
"What else would I have to say?" she asked. She sounded genuinely curious, like she hadn't the first clue.
"An apology for that 'grease-spot on the backside of a camel' comment for a start," he replied darkly.
"You earned it," she said, not sounding the least bit sorry.
"I think you're mistaken," he said tightly.
And matters start rapidly coming to a head…
I can only conclude that I'm paying off karma at a vastly accelerated rate, Midii thought to herself as she tried to act as a sort of failed and desperate traffic cop to the general rushing about of the population.
Trowa cursed his ill-luck and his sister's naive bravery; Catherine had seen the Raiders making for the large rig that held the parts to the circus tent and miscellaneous apparatus for the shows and had gone out to try and stop them. Trowa, of course, had rushed out after her to try to protect her.