Trowa was perched on the removable scaffolding used to make repairs to the upper levels of mobiles suits; he was making the minute delicate adjustments needed to recalibrate and align a weapons system. It was careless and sloppy of them to let the targeting system on this suit get so badly off. Okay, well it wasn't all that bad but Trowa was a little sensitive when it came to the weapons system on a suit. After all, his scientist had been the weapons expert; and really what else was a mobile suit for other than to be a weapon. It didn't make sense to have the suit kept in repair and then allow its main function to slide into uselessness.
His temper was still simmering below the surface but he had it under control now.
He saw Midii Une walking slowly over to where the mechanics had huddled around one of the leo suits brought back from the battle. He kept an ear half cocked mainly out of habit than any real curiosity as he continued making the minor adjustments to the gatling on the right shoulder.
"This thing is useless as a mobile suit anymore," Midii said. There was a curiously flat tone to her voice. "You guys can use it for scrap and spare parts."
"But Number one this is your--" one of the mechanics protested.
"It's alright. I've got a replacement. Michael...Bryson...he-he said I could take care of his since he wouldn't be needing it anymore."
"But--" one of the guys said.
"Don't ask. Not just yet," she said dully.
Hn. Boyfriend must have dumped her then. Served her right, if he'd been Bryson he'd have gotten out of there a lot sooner. Especially if she made a habit of giving out a dressing down like she had to him earlier that morning. Trowa wasn't in to verbal abuse.
A few minutes later Trowa heard the hauntingly familiar sound of Midii climbing up the ladder of the scaffolding to the mobile suit but paid her no heed, he was already busy. If she had come to apologize she could wait until he was done.
A little more to the left, he thought, twisting the nob on the targeting recalibrater.
"You can go," she said softly.
Trowa didn't even turn to look at her. That wasn't much of an apology, and who had said he was here because she ordered him to be here? Trowa was here because he was a pilot who hated to leave a suit he had used in less than perfect condition after he was done using it. She was going to have to do better.
"I said you can go," Midii tried again. Trowa didn't turn, didn't look up.
"I heard you," he said quietly. "I'm busy."
Midii didn't say anything, didn't move, she just stood there. Trowa finished the fine adjustments on the latitudinal targeting array for the main gatling and peeked over at her out of the corner of his eye. She was standing there, staring at the suit he was working on.
He'd always thought the term "heart in the eyes" was just a saying; but that glance over at Midii had proven that clichés exist because they are so often true. She stared at the suit with such a look on her face; like someone had run over her cat or told her they had a fatal disease and three months left to live. She looked like she was going to start crying at any minute.
"You're very thorough," Midii said quietly. "I appreciate it."
"I don't like leaving a suit I've piloted in less than good condition," Trowa said, just so she wouldn't get any ideas that he might be putting in the extra work for her or something.
"Bryson would have agreed with you," she said. "He always took good care of his suit."
"The weapons targeting system was off," Trowa felt obliged to point out.
"It was jury-rigged, not off," Midii corrected. "I'm sure you've noticed that the parts don't quite match, that's because the shoulder gatling was canabilized from another make and model suit. Not a lot of spare suit parts lying about you know and certainly none on demand. As ever, we've done the best we could."
"Hn," was all he said as he set the recalibrater up to adjust the latitudinal targeting system. Heh, he was just a much better mechanic than Bryson; even working with parts that were ill-fitting, Trowa wasn't having many difficulties in getting the sights and system to align.
Trowa watched her out of the corner of his eye, pretending to fiddle with one of the knobs. She had stepped closer to the suit, laying one hand on its shoulder. She looked so sad, not that it was any of his concern but it was hard to stay angry at someone who looked like that.
"I'm sure you've heard by now that everyone will be moving to a central location in Sector twenty-nine very soon now," Midii said. "The official announcement will be made later today, but we commence operations the day after tomorrow once all of the coordinators and cell-leaders have gotten back to their respective sectors and told everybody what's what."
"Your point?" he inquired.
"My point is that with the recent attack made on this Haven we have to assume that the Raiders are getting desperate for whatever the hell is is they're after, I can only assume it's you and the others in your caravan, and will be patrolling the traveling route waiting for the chance to strike. It won't be safe for any of you or yours to travel over them unguarded. Right now with everything else going on I can't afford to send a detachment along with your caravan to ensure its safety so I what I am going to do is ask that your people agree to travel with the first wave of settlers to sector twenty-nine and then from there I could send a few suits to escort you to the border."
This sounded like business, not an apology. He'd thought she might be working up to it, but apparently she had dismissed the matter of insulting him and his skills from her mind.
"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. "I aided your people and wiped out half of their mobile contingent in addition to a large portion of their ground fighters. How is any of this worthy of insult?"
"It's not what you did, but the way you did it," Midii replied as if he were a dense student who had entirely missed the point of the lecture. "You stole a suit without asking permission, you intruded on a battle that was none of your concern--"
"Not true," Trowa argued. "As a member of the Preventors I have carte blanche to investigate intrude and involve myself in any local matter if I feel it has a bearing on a larger case; and I don't have to answer to any local authority. My authority comes from the head of the Preventors who's authority comes straight from the Earth Sphere Unified Nation."
"Your actions, whether you have the authority or not, could very well have endangered my fighters," she said with a touch of heat in her tone. "Not only that, you carelessly spent valuable resources that this country needs and can't easily supply on some vainglorious stunt-"
"It was not a stunt," he replied. This girl had the rare ability to piss him off within one minute of meeting him. That had to be some kind of a record. "I knew precisely what I was doing. And as for your country's resources, it's against the ESUN charter to harbor much less use destructive weapons such as mobile suits and the parts to supply them. That goes against all of the disarmament charters signed by member nations of the council."
"I don't recall signing any charters!" she snapped back. She had entirely too quick a temper.
"Your Provisional Government signed the charters," Trowa replied. "I was perfectly within my rights to confiscate this contraband resource for my own use. As a matter of fact, your people shouldn't even have any of those suits defensive force or not, and I recall reading that your Homeguard has been labeled an outlaw group by your own government."
"Oh be serious!" Midii replied. "Those idiots wouldn't know a terrorist from a hole in the ground. The so-called leaders of our people that comprise the Provisional Government of Belterre barely acknowledge that we exist. I've never once heard of any of them making any inquiry, official or otherwise, into the state of affairs among my people. I've never heard of any of them offering any form of aid whatsoever, even when I go out of my way to notify them of a problem or a trouble spot. They offer no form of defense, they offer no form of supply, they offer no leadership local or national for my people. So could you please tell me how they are supposed to be governing my people! They don't govern! They just sign treaties and make useless proclamations!"
Trowa couldn't argue with that particular statement judging by everything he had heard and read. He had a feeling that the situation in this country had been allowed to devolve so badly that it would likely take the Prime Minister of Foreign Affairs the President o the Council plus his Cabinet and all of the ESUN Advisory Board (all the kings horses and all the kings men basically) to even begin to mend the situation. There was a government that wasn't part of it's people, and a people so desperate for any kind of hope or leadership in any form that it would accept even a half-grown girl with no references and nothing to her name but a whole lot of stubbornness and ingenuity simply because she was doing everything the government was supposed to be doing and...wasn't.
Trowa felt his simmering anger at her cool a little. Clearly she was under a lot of pressure. That didn't excuse her of course but he could understand a little that she must be feeling pretty upset about everything that was going on around her. Now that he looked at her, she did look pretty upset.
"So," he said after a long moment of silence. "Where's the pilot of this suit?"
Suddenly Midii's face crumpled and with a noise that was half-sob and half-cry she darted into the cockpit and snapped the door shut behind her. Had it been something he'd said? Trowa shrugged and went back to his instrument recalibrations, the longitudinal one was a bit tetchy.
"Hey, you in there," he called in after a few minutes. If she was going to take up his cockpit while he was trying to make adjustments the least she could do is be useful.
"Tell me if the gatling is on target or not."
He was greeted by silence. Trowa mentally weighed the benefit he might get from popping open the cockpit manually and hauling her out of there so he could finish up with his task versus the very angry young woman he might be faced with if he tried it. Why did he get stuck with her when she was all emotional?
Then again, I don't recall a time when she wasn't emotional about something, he thought. In that they were complete opposites. He was beginning to think it might just be a woman thing, his sister could get pretty emotional at times too; especially when he left to go out fighting or for his job at the Preventors. Wufei said it was hormones, then again, Wufei thought that just about everything concerning women was a result of their hormones. Midii didn't seem very hormonal to him, but what did he know?
"Are you coming out of there any time soon?" he pursued. He still hadn't had breakfast.
"Go away!" Midii screamed out at him. Despite the hollow sound of her voice sounding like it was coming from the bottom of a well, she clearly sounded upset and weepy. He paused for a moment, uncertain as to how he should continue. If he left her there, she'd probably take up the cockpit all day and he'd never get his work done.
"Are you crying?" he asked, very much afraid of the answer.
"No!" she yelled back at him. Which clearly meant yes. He could tell just by how her voice sounded that she was lying. She was likely curled up in a little ball in the seat weeping all over the controls. Great.
He wasn't very good with emotions; if he tried to get her to talk to him about it and she started crying he already knew that he wouldn't know what to do. Besides, he hated hearing a woman cry, no matter how he disliked the woman in question the weak sound of sobbing had some kind of odd power over him. He'd do anything, literally anything, to make it stop.
Cathy. Catherine would know what to do. Cathy would talk the little commander out from the cockpit he was interested in repairing, they'd probably go do some girl thing involving chocolate and he'd be free to fix the targeting system. He hopped lightly down to the ground and went in search of his sister. He wasn't searching long for she was in the tent platform they'd been assigned, sleeping. Apparently all civilians went back to their beds once they got the all clear from the forces.
I'd forgotten that it was still early morning, Trowa thought vaguely. He was still wide awake from the battle earlier that night. His sleep deprivation tolerance was still higher than most peoples as a result of being a soldier all of his life.
"Hey," he whispered, nudging at the pile of blankets that was his sleeping sister. "Hey wake up."
She grumbled and tried to bat him away.
"That girl is upset about something," Trowa said. He didn't like preliminary conversation; and besides, hearing that a friend of hers was upset would rouse Cath quickly. Catherine to the rescue and all of that.
"Midii's sad?" Catherine said, her eyes opening and blearily tried to focus on him. "What's wrong?"
"I'm not sure, she's just locked herself into the cockpit of the suit I'm working on and she won't come out," Trowa said, knowing fully well that protective Catherine would rise to the bait. "I think she may be crying," he added for good measure. Sure enough, that did it. Cathy hauled herself out of her sleeping bag, stood and headed out of the tent. Trowa followed a bit behind so that when Cathy finally got rid of her, er, brought the girl somewhere more comfortable to cry her eyes out in peace that is, he could resume the work that she'd interrupted. It was purely by coincidence that he caught the conversation between the two of them.
"Midii? Honey, what's wrong?" Cathy asked worriedly. "Did you get hurt?"
"Yeah but... that's not it," she said. Trowa could barely make out her voice from the inside of the cockpit; not that he was listening.
"What happened?"
"Michael..." and ere it sounded like she was taking a shuddering sob. "He- he's gone."
Aww, Midii..." Cathy said, clearly looking for the opening. Trowa sighed resignedly and climbed up the ladder to show her where the manual switch was, then hopped back down to tighten the bolts on a panel on the leg that he'd noticed were loose, giving the two women the illusion of privacy at least. A few seconds later there was the sound of the door of the cockpit being opened.
"Hey... what's wrong?" Cathy asked in concern.
"Cathy, I can't... I'm not strong enough. I can't do this without him. He's the only kind of family I have left and now he's left me too! Why does everyone I love always leave me?"
"Oh Midii, don't cry," Cathy said. "He'll probably be back before you know it. I know Trowa always comes back."
Cathy! Don't compare me to that idiot! he thought with a vague sense of insult.
"People want to come back to you Cathy," Midii pointed out tearfully. "No one ever comes back to me because they want to. I have too much stuff around me I guess. He said he wanted a normal life and a chance at happiness and we both know he can't get that if he stays with me."
"Now who wouldn't be happy staying with you Midii. You have so much to offer," Cathy said consolingly.
"Like what?" Midii said a little cynically. "A roll-out pallet on whatever god-forsaken corner of the back of nowhere I have to travel to? I can offer tasteless army rations and the promise of life-threatening danger at least once a week. What person in their right mind would stick around for that? Hell, I don't even want to be here! I'd rather be just about anywhere else but where I am and be doing just about anything else but what I'm doing!"
"Then why stick around?" Cathy asked. "You're clearly unhappy here, why stay?"
"Because I have to," Midii said, her tone resigned but clearly not liking it. "Everyone else has given up on these people, I can't bring myself to toss in the towel and give up on them too. It would be like slapping them in the face and telling them that they're all worthless after all. And after everything I've already done and gone through to protect them and give them even what little they have it would be a terrible thing to do."
"But your brother left just now, don't you think people would take offense at that?" Catherine pointed out.
"He's Bryson; nobody can stay mad at him for any length of time. He could make off with the entire budget of the ESUN probably and then all he'd have to do would be to smile at them in that way he has and they'd probably all say "you young rascal" and forgive him. Gods I'm going to miss him..."
"If you want to cry Midii, you can go ahead. There's no one else around but me," Catherine said, neglecting to mention that Trowa was still working on the leg of the suit.
"I don't think I should," Midii replied in a dull toneless voice. She sounded defeated; like life had handed her just one too many rounds and she was down for the count.
"After all," she continued. "How will I keep the respect of my forces, meagre as they are, if they see their commander all dejected and teary-eyed? No one's going to want to obey that and I need to hold it together for their sakes if not my own."
"If you're sure..." Catherine said doubtfully.
"I'm sure, come on, let's go get breakfast." At the sound of their alighting from the platform Trowa thought
"Finally!" he went into the cockpit and checked up on the weapons recalibration system. Still, he couldn't keep the thought of those sad, heart wrenching eyes out of his head for very long as he rechecked the system. Damn her, even when she wasn't interrupting his work, she was still interrupting his work.
Trowa liked working with his hands, he always had. Machines never complained if you were too quiet or never had any expression on your face. They always did precisely the task they had been built for as long as they were kept in good condition. Best off, if he was clearly busy working on a task most people just left him in peace to continue working on it and didn't try to engage him in meaningless conversation about the weather or some such.
"What do you think?" he quietly asked the metal hulk he was repairing. Like his compatriots the other pilots, he too had on occasion talked to his suit like it was more than a collection of armor-plating wires and connectors.
"I've never met someone who was able to make me that angry, not to mention the time it takes her to do it in," he confided rewiring some loose connectors on the shoulder. "Before meeting her, I wasn't aware I was capable of becoming that angry."
The suit didn't reply as Trowa finished the connectors and screwed back on the panel. There was a slight discrepancy with the ballast system on the right arm that needed to be looked into.
"Will you miss your pilot?" he asked it as he accessed the ballast schematics from the cockpit. "Midii certainly seems to miss him and he hasn't been gone for very long. Apparently I'm no kind of substitute for him although I'm definitely a better pilot."
He was still sore about her yelling at him earlier this morning, and he was also sore about her not apologizing about it when she'd come to talk to him later. He could probably blame that one on her being too upset to really think about it, but with the way she'd acted it was like it was all his fault. She was probably just mad at him because he hadn't been her precious Bryson and that irked him a little.
She continued to treat him as if he was just some meaningless casual acquaintance of hers. It was annoying; it was like he didn't mean anything to her, as if he was nothing more important than her best friend's adopted younger brother. The fact that she'd yelled at him for doing what he did best last night by winning the fight for them pissed him off, and the knowledge that if he were Bryson Midii would probably have let it go just because he was alive made it worse.
Midii felt a little better; she still felt like crap but the feeling was no longer so all encompassing. She could at least breathe again (without feeling like she'd start sobbing when she exhaled), and concentrate enough to get started on her work. Really, she was at a point where she couldn't afford a distraction. She had so much she still needed to do. Her mobile unit would be leading the first wave of... refugees? Yes, she supposed they were all back to being refugees again in a way. She had to get that prepared; Coordinator Meitchel was holding a Haven-wide meeting with all of his people to assist in that. All of the other coordinators and cell leader were on their ways back to their respective Havens to get things ready. She imagined that she would be pretty bust within the next few days. In fact, she intended to be very busy within the next few days; too busy to think about the empty-pit feeling in her chest and the sad ache of being abandoned again.
Sacred Omega to the left of me, Preventors to the right... here I am, stuck in the middle with HIM, she thought a little sourly. And then there was this big massive migration giving her a migraine, plus that damned provisional government, plus the recent unprovoked attack by the suddenly banded together and organized Raiders that she couldn't figure out. Her mind screamed "too much!" and the rest of the world seemed to scream "not nearly enough!"
She heard the light and cheerful sound of children's laughter followed by the roar of one of the big jungle cats employed by the circus. The manager had been very nice; he said that since the tent had been set up anyway that he and his people had agreed to present a show free of charge. Midii didn't like taking charity but the looks on the kids faces when they heard the news had been more than enough to get her to cave in cheerfully. Things were going to get serious very quickly; they should have the chance to enjoy a little lighthearted entertainment while they still could.
She was half-tempted to go and see the show for herself but refrained. He was going to be there... She wasn't sure what the hell his problem was precisely, but he'd had some kind of chip on his shoulder all morning.
If anyone has the right to have a chip on their shoulder it's me, she thought a little resentfully. She hadn't asked for his help, and it was mostly his fault that her suit had been damaged too badly to ever be used again. And then the insensitive prig has the gall to not only demand an apology for something entirely his fault, but he wouldn't leave her alone to cry in peace in the only pece of her brother-in-arms that he had left behind with her. Then he went and got Cathy who had nearly seen her crying! She had had to get stitches for the wound on the outside of her shoulder and her rib and they both itched and hurt like the dickens. How had she gotten those wounds? By following Mister-big-bad-war-hero-Trowa right into the middle of the hornets nest and then taking the blast that would have killed or disabled him from all the enemy missiles in order to save his life. Had he thanked her for risking her neck to save his? No. In fact he'd ignored her and continued to fight like some kind of battle automaton. So she'd taken the impact of about twenty micro missiles for him, trashed her favorite mobile suit, gotten shrapnel in her arm and stitches to close the wounds and he was still acting like she was the villain.
Suffice to say Trowa was definitely not on her short list of people she wanted to see right then. In fact she'd probably be happy if she didn't have to see him for the rest of the time he'd be there. If he wanted to resent her for their shared past he could just do it in a place where she didn't have to put up with it; she had other things to worry about. And if he wanted to hold her responsible for it that was his business. And if he never wanted to forgive her for it... she'd just have to learn to live with the fact that...
That I've done something unforgivable, she thought sadly. She'd done something so terrible that the one who's lived through it couldn't forgive her even years after the fact when he was an adult. She was ashamed but she couldn't change it and she didn't have the luxury of pursuing him in her usual stubborn manner until he forgave her. She'd just have to accept it and spend the rest of the time avoiding him. She couldn't imagine that he wanted to see her at all. She'd respect his wishes... she could do that much for him.
We all begin with good intent
When love was raw and young
We believe that we can change ourselves
The past can be undone
But we carry on our backs the burden
Time always reveals
In the lonely light of morning
And the wound that would not heal.
Its the bitter taste of losing everything
That I've held so dear...
I've fallen.
I have sunk so low.
I've messed up.
Better I should know.
So don't come round here,
And tell me I told you so.
Fallen- Sarah McLaughlin
The day had passed by in a blur of organized chaos. The entirety of the Havens was being dismantled piece by piece. The two conveyances allotted to Homeguard were swiftly being filled with the dismantled ground-to-air defense system; the delicate parts were wrapped up in emptied sandbags (which had been emptied because they were going to be refilled and used to make the walls in the new location) and the once sturdy and bristling-with weapons walls around the haven were beginning to look sad and sunken in on themselves. The public facilities such as the sanitizer units, the collapsible showers, the boilers over the fire pits, the medical facilities, and the mess tent were all being taken down and taken apart so that they could be thrown into the fore-rigs leaving that evening with the first contingent. The first wave would use the man-power and leadership supplied by the coordinators (who had likely asked for volunteers) prepare the way for the larger wave arriving in a few days. There was a lot to do, less time to do it in and very very limited resources to do it with.
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.
The civilians, were clearly unhappy about the new arrangements but they all trusted Midii and her judgment well enough to simply pack up their things once again and prepare to move. Space in the traveling conveyances was at a premium so each family had been allotted so much room for personal possessions; necessary items were the priority but there was no doubt in anyone's mind that each of them would find some way to transport what few precious valuables they had retained throughout all of the wars. Midii almost couldn't get over it; over seven thousand people were willing to pack up their few meager belongings and covertly flock to an entirely new location purely on her say-so. She was awed and humbled by the faith they all showed in her. That they trusted her that much...
I know I've always tried to make their defense and protection my first priority but I guess it hadn't really occurred to me that they'd notice it and return the gesture with such a strong show of loyalty, she thought in a little bit of a daze.
It wasn't done without grumbling of course, but the fact remained that it was being done. The civilians were handling the mess with all of the capability and competence that surviving as refugees in a war torn country had instilled in them. They weren't panicking, they weren't rioting or protesting; they just settled their few valuable effects and pared down their gear to the bare essentials and got on with the business of heavy-duty preparations. Even though the place was a veritable hive of activity they were all clearly working together; that was how refugees survived by helping one another in places and times where help was needed.
Things are going so well in fact that I might be able to get the fore-runner caravan, the circus people and the first wave of Homeguard out of the way before sunset, she thought, allowing herself a small optimistic thought. If things were going this well in all of the other Havens, perhaps there was nothing for her to worry about.
She snorted. That would be the day. Oh no, she was fully counting on Murphy's law to rear its ugly head sooner or later.
The attack had come out from nowhere. The supply rigs, the circus rigs and the Homeguard transports that were guarding them all had been making their steady way across the land when the long line of vehicles was suddenly attacked from both sides. Trowa had been half expecting such a venture on the part of the brigands since the caravan had started out on this crazy venture.
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.
It was dark and cold, and very difficult to detect friend from foe aside of the enormous mobile suits patrolling the line. They provided some light from their suits headlamps but not nearly enough. Trowa disliked his lack of mobile suit ownership right then but Midii had taken the one he had used and repaired earlier since the one she'd owned up until that point had been destroyed in their last encounter with the Raiders.
She hadn't come right out and said that it was mostly his fault that her suit had been scrapped but he could put two and two together and come up with the right number. The impact from the blasts of the missiles fired at them when they'd been fighting the Raiders together in their last battle (the same missiles that she'd knocked him out of harms way to shield him from) was the obvious cause of most of the suit damage. Trowa figured she might possibly be within her right to restrict him to ground fighting although no force she could possibly exert would ever be enough to keep him out of the fight entirely. He could understand that she would want people she trusted, people under her sole command who would follow her orders without question, fighting beside her incase something did happen. He could understand it but that didn't mean he liked it.
Trowa missed having a mobile suit at times. Despite the fact that the Raiders were entirely made up of ground forces now since he and Midii had destroyed their pathetic mobile suit contingent Trowa felt a little ineffectual and entirely too aware of the fact that he was but a single fighter when he was without his mobile suit. That didn't stop him from decimating the enemy f course, but it did make him more cautious, knowing that there was no armor plating between him and the enemies bullets.
The Raiders objective was at least very clear, they wanted to make off with anything ov value in this caravan string. Unfortunately, this string had not only the circus and the merchants that Trowa had originally been traveling with but also a long line of supply transports for the Havens and the Homeguard (which had joined them along the way) making entirely too many targets for his comfort.
Catherine huddled in her darkened trailer while the shouts and sounds of a massive fight raged around her. She was scared but of course she was always scared when someone took her and the circus hostage. It was like she and the other members of the circus walked around with huge signs over their heads that read 'take us hostage!' She was scared, but she was also angry and indignant. How rude! Those Raiders could make a decent living for themselves if they wanted to; they didn't need to turn on their peers and wreck the decent living of everybody else!
There was a loud thump as someone was thrown against the side of her trailer on the outside and Cathy jumped. She hated this, but she was sure that no matter what Trowa would try to keep her safe... usually it was the other way around and she was trying to keep Trowa safe. Midii certainly wasn't happy to have him in her camp that was for sure. Catherine momentarily worried about that; the two of them definitely had something between them. Cathy wasn't sure what it was but her intuitive nature sensed something odd betwixt them. Trowa had been acting strangely. Cathy couldn't quite be certain what precisely was wrong with him but he had been quieter than usual lately, and for a guy like Trowa to be even quieter than normal was really something strange. Oh he wasn't a mute or anything, he had times where he spoke just as much as any other person; the key to Trowa was that he rarely spoke unless he actually had something to say.
That was odd; here she was in the middle of an attack from all sides and all she could think about was what was going on with her brother and her young commander friend. There was something going on though... neither one of them was saying anything to her and it hadn't gotten to the point where Cathy had done any sisterly prying, but from what she'd heard around the Haven (there was no keeping a secret in a Haven) the two of them were at constant loggerheads. Most people thought it had started when Trowa had dared to pilot Midii's second-in-command's mobile suit into a battle and forced her to destroy her own precious suit in order to save his life. Cathy thought it was likely something else. She knew Midii pretty well, and while the girl might on occasion have a quick temper she was also quick to forgive and didn't hold onto her anger for very long. Cathy thought the problem originated with Trowa, and went far deeper than a mere dressing down. Something like that Trowa would likely ignore as inconsequential; he had won his battle, what would the opinion of a fighter less experienced than him matter after the fact?
Trowa was upset about something; Cathy could sense it. Trowa never got upset about anything, not even when he'd been amnesiac and had showed his emotions more readily than when he was his normal stoic self. He had a brooding look about him that had never been there before. Always he'd worn this perfectly calm, emotionless mask, but now there was a definite air of... well if Cathy didn't know any better, she would have called it a...sulk. But that was silly, Trowa never sulked. Trowa would never sulk about something inconsequential either.
I have to admit, it does seem an awful lot like a sulk, Cathy said in perfect honesty with herself. But why would he be sulking over Midii yelling at him? He didn't care about insults, he didn't let the words that other people said to him phase him ever. On occasion he'd let Cathy fuss over how he should take better care of himself but that was just because he knew she needed to fuss every now and again. Trowa had never let someone pick a fight with him, had certainly never instigated one himself and that was because he never let what people said get to him. The only reason she could think of that Trowa might be sulking would be because it was Midii who had insulted him. Cathy had to admit that the girl did on occasion have this way of making an ordinary person feel about three inches tall; she had to wonder what the effect had made on Trowa. Cathy couldn't imagine why he would suddenly decide to start letting people's opinions matter to him.
Unless... Cathy thought a little hopefully. Unless he's sulking because Midii's opinion of him matters to him a little. If that's true, then it means he's finally noticed someone! Well that was an optimistic thought. Trowa doted on Catherine in his own way but that was because he considered her a sister. Maybe her matchmaking ploy had worked and he had noticed and decided that he liked Midii! He was sulking because he thought she didn't like him back. Now this was perfect!
Well what if she doesn't like him back? Catherine thought, suddenly depressed. Midii had never given any indication one way or another that she thought about Trowa. They could both be so damned enclosed; Trowa because his stoicism as a soldier was a life-long habit and Midii because she thought she had to be this tough-as-nails commander all the time. They were always fighting with each other, even if they weren't using words Cathy could sense the air crackling with animosity between the two of them in the few times they had been in the same room together.
Midii was very obviously ignoring him, or trying to. Trowa could be a difficult man to ignore when he exerted himself, and for some reason he was exerting himself to be difficult to ignore. It wasn't that he'd become loud or gregarious suddenly or even that he had become more social; it was more of an aura he projected. Most of the time he kept his presence hidden and low key, downplaying his stature and obvious strength; now instead of masking his aura of Presence he seemed to project it, like he suddenly filled the entire room. Cathy had never really believed the phrase "chick-magnet" but...
And Midii was seemingly oblivious to it all, despite the fact there had been several very obvious offers by a lot of unattached women around the Haven (and quite a few that were attached). Granted, the girl did have a lot on her mind, but Trowa was suddenly hard to miss. Could he be trying to impress her somehow? His skills as a pilot obviously hadn't done the trick.
Trowa, going out of his way to get someone's attention? Cathy thought incredulously. Naaaah. Couldn't be.
Midii had a lot on her mind and she was always so sad now, but that could easily be attributed to the fact that her only family had left her. Poor thing. Cathy knew how she must be feeling; she'd lost her family at a young age too, while she thought Midii might have been a little bit older when she'd lost hers, the feeling of being abandoned never went away. There was always that longing there, that empty aching hole in her life that never quite seemed to fill because there was never any closure. Midii had found Bryson to fill that hole just as Catherine had found Trowa, but now the young commander was all alone with a heavy burden on her shoulders.
The trailer rocked again from another impact, and Cathy grasped the nearby table for support. Suddenly the trailer was moving! It was moving forward and picking up speed! She could only imagine what some of the others in her string must be thinking right then. There was a sharp swerve to the left and suddenly it felt like they were traveling off roads, the bumps and jolts caused the tiny trailer to rock and bounce side to side as cupboard and cabinet door flew open and objects rained down on her. There was a sharp blow on her head before she could think to protect it and then Catherine knew no more.
Trowa looked over in dismay as a few pf the Raiders slipped past the trains meager perimeter defenses and took control of a few of the supply rigs, and even a string of the trailers belonging to the circus! He tried to fight his way over in that direction to stop them but was caught up in the general melee. Some of the mobile suits tried to intercept or hinder them in some way but were very limited in their options because they could not afford to fire on their own people.
Cathy! he thought, panic jangling along his nerves. It was the only thought occupying his mind. He had come out to try and protect her and he had failed in even that simple objective. He couldn't even protect his family.
The objective had now been changed; he had to reclaim possession of the string of trailers taken by the Raiders and rescue the people inside of it. Trowa cast about for any mode of transportation that was unoccupied but came up with nothing. Everything was being used, and though he might be desperate he was not desperate enough to deprive this poor beleaguered country of one of its few precious modes of transport for a selfish quest of his. He'd just wait until the fighting dies down and steal one of their mobile suits. Midii could at least give him that much.
"No," was the flat reply.
No? What does she mean no? he thought in surprise. he had thought that Midii was Catherine's friend. Then again, with friends like Midii, who needed enemies? Selfish chit.
"Don't look at me like that," Midii snapped. "I didn't say I wasn't going to go after her, i just said that I can't do it right NOW. We're within bare miles of our soon-to-be new Citadel in sector twenty-nine; in fact by my calculations we should already be in sector twenty-nine so that means that we'll likely be there within an hour, two at most. Once we get there we can get everything sorted out."
"We may not have that long," Trowa pointed out, with what he felt was admirable patience. "If the Raiders discover they have unexpected passengers, they may not have the patience or the resources to hold them for ransom. They may just line them all up and kill them so as not to have to deal with them."
"The Raiders, even as defeated as they are, won't do that," Midii argued.
"How can you be certain? They've done several things you haven't expected in the last several days, including forming into one cooperative unit and attacking a single haven en masse."
"I know they won't for the simple fact that the civilians of Belterre are protected from true physical harm and death."
"By what?" he demanded, crossing his arms.
"By the fact that Homeguard has made it widely known that we have perfected the art of revenge. The Raiders can eat away at our defenses but not without losses on their side. We have a tendency to like to hunt them down and ambush their lair with the most unpleasant of surprises; and we can get very nasty and very creative. If true harm comes to our civilians by any of the Raiders, Homeguard will track them down and what we do to them when we find them always ensures that they don't attack for at least a few weeks. It doesn't stop their attacks completely but it does make them cautious about rousing our true anger."
"So you're saying that the attacks on the Havens by the Raiders are nothing more than an inconvenience?" Trowa questioned.
"A wearing one, but yes," Midii replied. "Their attacks are cautious, and they go out of their way to ensure that the civilians remain unharmed. This isn't true in all instances but the ones who make a habit of showing no mercy get shown no mercy, their deaths are quick and decisive. Those Raiders out there know that if they harm those civilians they have with them in any way my vengeance will be as swift and sure as an executioners blade."
"That's still not good enough," said Trowa. "I want to go after my sister, and I want to do it now."
"At least take time to plan your approach," Midii temporized. "My people will be unusually busy building defenses and setting up for the arrival of the rest of the families in a few days or normally I would send some of them off to gather information and report back to me. I'll tell you what, I can do you this much as a favor. I will allow you to invite your war-comrades from the Preventors onto my soil; I will even host them there in the capitol city. The accommodations will not be great but we will make room for them. You may attend to this matter as you see fit to. It's a reasonable compromise and the best that I can give you under the circumstances."
"It's not good enough," he replied. "I need a transport now."
"Do you honestly think that I'm not worried about her?" Midii snapped back at him. "Do you think that I don't want to go and bring her back here where I know she's safe? Cathy is my friend too!"
"Some friend you are," Trowa shot back with unusual intensity. "You're going to abandon her to those highwaymen with guns and who knows what they'll do to her!"
"I'm not abandoning anyone," Midii said, her voice hard and sharp as a diamond shard. Even Trowa was taken a little aback by the sheer venom in her tone. "I never leave anyone behind. I said I would bring her back safe and I will; when the time is right."
"The time is right now as far as I'm concerned," Trowa replied.
"I have well over a thousand people behind me, civilian and Homeguard both; in fact it's probably even over three thousand," she said. "I have to get them all to the Capitol city, get them organized there once we reach it so that they in turn can start laying the groundwork for the several thousand people who will be coming in another two days. We've got a city to comandeer, camps to build, walls to start erecting, and supplies to sort out as only the tip of the ice burg. I am concerned about Cathy, and I promise you that I'll attend to the matter as soon as I possibly can but right now I have a thousand others to attend to. I can't afford the loss of even one more mode of transport. You, on the other hand, have many other resources you can call on, I suggest you do so and stop pestering me with it. My hands are truly effectively tied. As soon as i get the resources freed up to look into tracking the Raiders down for daring to kidnap one of my own I will but I don't have that luxury... do you understand me?"
"Yes," he growled. "I understand perfectly."
"Good, now why don't you see about calling up some of your friends and maybe making a nice fast helicopter search. Oh, and that reminds me, speaking of the Preventors... I need to meet with Lady Une on a matter of utmost urgency as soon as she can. Four days from now would be the earliest I could manage, oculd you pass that along for me?"
Trowa was half tempted to tell her where to stick it, but he knew Midii's current character well enough to know that she didn't say that a matter was urgent unless it really was. With an armed force that was growning stronger by the day and a population fleeing to a stronghold for their lives, it was probably very important.
"Fine," he said shortly. "But don't think that I'm doing this because you asked."
She sighed.
"Whatever," she said flatly, as if he were somehow being unreasonable and she was tired of dealing with him. "I told you that my hands were tied and I meant it. If you choose not to believe me that's your problem."
Trowa just walke away. If he had to say one more word to her, he'd be certain to say something he regretted.
Next time on Legacy: In which Catherine discovers the Raiders true agenda…..
"Trade me in?" Cathy demanded. "What am I, a car? Why do you want to trade me in? Isn't one hostage as good as another?"
"Not in this case girlie," the ruffian negated. "Sacred Omega is willing to pay a lot of money for anyone with any information that will lead them to the mysterious suit, spooky."
It won't happen," Cathy said. "She's too important to her people, they'll never hand her over."
"It's not up to them, it's up to the girl, and the little chit's always been a sucker for her precious civilians. She'll come to us as soon as she hears one of her little friends are in trouble and nobly exchange her freedom for yours 'cause she's stupid like that."
Midii finally puts the Provisional Governemt in its place…..
"Bet you're wondering just who we all are that have suddenly become camped out on your front lawn like some kind of massive woodstock festival. I'll tell you who we are. We are your constituents, you know... the little people. The ones you constantly ignore in favor of doing whatever the hell it is you're doing over here. We're taking over."
"You can't do that!" the politician protested.
"I've got a ninety-round gatling cannon in my weapons array that says otherwise," Midii replied. Her voice and manner was the kind of sanguine that only came with holding all of the cards.
And Trowa makes a decision.
He knew what he had to do and he was seeing things very clearly. Midii still owed him and it was time he collected on that debt.