The Romefeller Foundation, comprised of select royalty and moneyed dynasties of transnational corporations, have dominated the European continent for over a century. They are united by one goal—complete technocratic control of the world population.
The Foundation's latest success with the former Taigarian Kingdom, its drastic transformation from a religious monarchy to a technocratic people's republic, was touted as a victory for science and progress.
The puppet regime, under the influence of Romefeller, treated Taigaria as a cheap source of raw materials, importing vast quantities at minimal cost. However, the life of ordinary Taigarians did not see any improvement, as they merely slaved under a different master.
Relena Darlian did not run away from her problems, her father taught her to stand up for herself and find ways to resolve disagreements.
But if the man who saved her and Rosy's life, whom she did not even know the name of, was correct, then her father was not who she thought he was. Besides, she's never had disagreements with The Party before.
Dawn was fast approaching, she could already see the hint of first light through the shutters. Relena took her teacher's rations and gathered a small pot, her single enamel cup, and her only change of clothing, all wrapped in a large shawl thrown over her shoulder.
Relena Peacecraft was running away from this particular disagreement.
Treize let the early spring air refresh his senses, the horse's rhythmic movements grounded him to the present moment.
"The lands of our country is rich in natural beauty, is it not?"
"Yes sir," The young man was suspicious of his superior's intentions. Treize sent a message for Yuy to accompany him as his personal detail on his weekly tour of the former Royal woods, now rebranded the People's Forest.
The two men rode in single file among the leafless trees, the ground still covered in slippery black ice in spots. Parts of the forest had been destroyed by fires during the Revolution, Treize could feel the silence become heavier as they rode through the blackened ruin.
He stopped his horse, Heero stopped a few steps behind him. The monstrous remains of ancient trees burned into their eyes.
"We have much to atone for," Treize turned to look straight at his companion, Heero met him with a steely gaze, colder than the coldest nights of Taigarian winter, knuckles white from gripping tight the reins.
There were no mistaking those features, Treize looked away satisfied, he needed to confirm it with his own eyes, "The Revolution destroyed our nation, and our people are poorer for it."
The horses stomped nervously, Treize made a soothing noise at his mare. "We have a chance to right the course of history, it is a small chance, but we've been given it non the less."
Heero kept quiet, waiting for him to get to the point.
"A new age is dawning, young officer." Treize gestured to the horizon beyond the blackened forest, "Can I count on your loyalty to my cause?"
Heero narrowed his eyes, "If you're planning a counter-revolution…"
"Nothing so bloody as that," Treize dismissed the thought, "We will use the existing structure."
"So the rumours are true," Heero gave the first sign of interest since he reported for duty, "They will name you the next General Secretary."
Treize said nothing, but waited. His silence confirmed Heero's question.
"To whom do you swear allegiance?"
Treize was surprised by such forwardness, but emboldened, "I swear by the lightning of Heaven, the waters of the Deep, and the blood in my veins to spill, my allegiance to our people, the nation of Taigaria."
Heero saluted with a thump of his fist on his heart, the sting in his wound made him feel alive, "Long live Taigaria."
Treize returned the salute in kind, his attention caught by the stump of what would've been a grand old tree, now but a sooty stump, "So! Even dead trees can sprout new shoots!"
Heero followed his gaze, and there, among the burnt and broken branches, a green shoot glistened in the sunlight, its buds promising new life.
Relena boarded the bus that carried workers out of the village and into the industrial city of New Port, feigned fatigue like everyone else around her, they swayed in the seats as the bus wound around the mountain roads, down to sea level.
The bus stopped in front of the brick factory on the east side of the city, Relena bowed her head and filed out of the bus with the workers. Aside from the small pack she held, she blended in easily, as everyone was wearing the standard issue greyish blue—the only permitted colour for civilians.
Relena slipped into the narrow alley between the brick works and a textile factory building, when no one took notice of her, she headed west for the docks.
Sally kept her distance, but never lost sight of her charge. Relena did not see her on the bus, the girl was too busy keeping her own head down. Besides, she'd never seen Sally in anything other than the green military fatigues, the standard uniform for rural medics.
She knew, when the panic stricken little Rosy burst through her door, that her quaint little village life was coming to a swift end.
Sally's mind wandered back to the man bleeding out in front of the schoolhouse, the stench of death heavy in the air.
She's seen her share of horrific injuries in her years on the job, the revolution was long and bloody and the victims were many, but the burns on the young man's back were deep and still blood red under the weak light of the lantern. He must've received it when he was very young, and they never healed properly from lack of timely care.
Most people would've been permanently disabled by such injuries, yet this young man not only survived, but his physique suggested a vigorous and dangerous occupation.
The fog horn of a steamship shook her out of her pondering, Sally stood on her tiptoes to find her charge again. She saw Relena weave through the busy dock workers, proposition a captain, and was roundly rejected by him.
Relena was trying to buy her way onto an export vessel, Sally realized, not a bad plan of escape, but a sea journey with a boatload of rough men was not a safe place for a young woman, either.
Sally pushed her way closer, it would be a black mark on her career if she lost her charge this late in the game.
A loud motor ripped through the air, parting the crowd. Noin hopped off her ride and snatched Relena's wrist, the girl twisted and struggled to break free.
A few onlookers stopped to watch the altercation, though many tried to ignore it when a Bureau agent was involved. This wasn't good, Sally ran to the two women.
"Relena! She's a friend!" Sally grabbed Relena by the elbow and tried to calm her down, "Come, let's go somewhere with less eyes."
Sally winced at the look of betrayal Relena shot her way, for three years she's been a steadfast friend to the girl, was that hard-won trust so easily lost?
The three women found a quiet corner in the city gardens, mostly empty before the lunch hours.
"My name is Lucrezia Noin," The woman in military green bowed her head courteously, "My apology for startling you earlier, Miss Relena."
Relena frowned uneasily, looked between the two older women, "Were you not sent to kill me?"
"No, Miss Relena," Noin said, appalled, "I am here to ensure your safety."
"In the last twenty-four hours, two men have tried to kill me, and a third man threatened to," Relena could barely contain her anger, "So excuse me for being suspicious."
"We know that, Noin here is the reason no more agents have come after you," Sally placated softly.
"I'm supposed to feel grateful then?" Relena knew she sounded almost petulant, but she was so high strung, and her mind was going a mile a minute.
"A little gratefulness would be appreciated, but regardless, you are under my protection," Noin lowered her voice, "Now that your identity has been uncovered."
"I'm to be locked up then?"
"Miss Relena, please," Noin bowed again, "I am to introduce you to the fullness of your inheritance."
"Grandfather, I have great news for you," The voice of Duke Dermail's granddaughter was fine as spider silk, "A little bird has fled the nest."
The old man sighed, "I don't have time for your riddles, Dorothy."
"And your life is all the duller for it," Dorothy tsked, "It would appear, that a Peacecraft has been flushed out of her hiding."
Tbc.