Duo spent the next two days in his bunk lying on the bed, alternating between sleep and staring into emptiness. When he slept, he dreamed terrible nightmares that he could never remember upon waking. Glimpses of space and mangled bodies flashed in and out of his consciousness. When he thought, he always focused on those fuzzy memories, and insuppressible anxiety flooded his gut and tightened in his chest. Despite twenty-four hours a day company, no one had mentioned anything that would fill in the holes or ease his nerves. Only Sally had given him any clues when she allowed him to watch her change the dressings on his stomach.

Beneath the white cloth lurked a gnarled mass of reddened flesh that must once have been an entry wound. She administered her care without anesthetic, and it was not needed. Duo could feel nothing in the area immediately surrounding the hideous mass of newly scarring tissue, but deep inside a dull ache permeated the muscle closer to his spine than his navel.

"You were shot," Sally explained plainly as she disinfected the skin. "The folks who tried to care for you afterward clearly didn't know what they were doing, so the wound became infected."

Duo offered no words: he had nothing really to say. He simply watched her hands as they worked mechanically.

"It doesn't help that they didn't get the entire bullet out," Sally continued, musing now. "I don't know how anyone could have missed it. The thing was huge. Armor piercing, it got through the cockpit of your test suit."

After Sally left Duo continued to poke at the wound as if such activity had become habit. In fact, he noted with passing interest that he had been doing many things on instinct that he didn't remember doing before. He was guarding his words so closely that he'd not spoken since he woke, he avoided food, and he fidgeted near constantly. Heero had been the first to point these things out in what Duo might have called a fit of spontaneous rage when Duo had been listlessly rearranging the food he had brought from the galley. When Heero snapped at him to "quit brooding and eat it," Duo dropped his fork and fought back the anxious urge to stammer stupidly.

So it went until the third day when Quatre arrived.

It had been at least two years since the two had seen each other—or at least since Duo had seen Quatre—and those years had brought no ill effect. Quatre bounced into the room with such enthusiasm that Heero rolled his eyes and left at once, grumbling that he had important matters to take care of. Taking no notice of Heero's foul mood, Quatre flopped onto the bed opposite Duo, pulled a brown leather satchel over his head, and folded his hands in his lap.

"How are you?"

Duo wondered how someone as smart as Quatre could ask such a stupid question. Instead he said nothing.

"Ah," Quatre said lightly, "Sally told me you've not been talking to anyone." He produced from the satchel a rectangular handheld device, which he waved before Duo's face exuberantly. "This is an internal scanner," he explained, "it's very basic but it'll tell me whether or not you hurt yourself getting out of the stasis chamber. Aside from the obvious, of course." He glanced at the sutures on Duo's arm.

Duo wanted to apologize for breaking the thing, and judging by the temporary shift in Quatre's expression, Quatre knew it.

"Don't worry. One broken chamber is nothing to worry about. At any rate, you were fine when we put you in…Well, not entirely fine, I suppose, but alive. Nothing was wrong that might keep you from speaking to us. That means something went wrong when you came out. We can fix that."

Quatre punched a few buttons on the scanner and a blue laser emitted from diodes on its sides like a primitive barcode reader. He raised the scanner and passed the beam over Duo's head, his throat, all the way down to his chest. Then he examined the readout and punched a few more buttons. He looked disappointed.

"Good news and bad," Quatre announced. "The good is that there's absolutely nothing wrong with you that might keep you from talking. The bad is that means you're not talking and none of us know why."

Quatre's stare made Duo's gut drop out. Maybe he hadn't hurt himself, but still Duo had nothing to say to anyone. He didn't want to speak to them, not least until he could figure out what the hell had happened for him to wind up in such a state.

"Sally told me you don't remember," Quatre said empathetically. "Against my better judgment I'm going to tell you things, but not here. I've had her sign paperwork to make me your primary caregiver—it's legal protection, you know—so I'm going to take you to my ship. It's not a long walk, I'm linked with Peacemillion via the docking bay. Will you come with me?"

Duo nodded and got awkwardly to his feet, and after stowing the scanner back in its satchel Quatre stood. With the bounce in his step restored, Quatre led Duo from the room and through the halls.

The pair met with strange, scrutinizing gazes as they walked, and while Quatre greeted each onlooker with gusto Duo kept his eyes firmly planted on the floor, watching Quatre's brown leather shoes take one step after another. Eventually the greetings grew scarce, and Quatre opened a hydraulic door into a long plain metal corridor that Duo recognized as a ship link.

Even the door to enter Quatre's ship seemed far more luxurious than anything housed by the Peacemillion, ornamented and shining with a bold printed W on its front, and when Quatre opened it Duo caught his breath. They entered into what seemed a modern colonial hospital with white tile and bright blue hued lights. The place smelled distinctly different than the Peacemillion, which reeked of oil and labor and metal. This was clean but not sterile. This seemed homier, a place where one might find solace when it was needed. Quatre did not stop in the initial hallway, though. He led Duo through a corridor and into a large carpeted area, a sitting room of sorts, with comfortable leather chairs and a bright red embroidered rug in the middle of the floor. A long rectangular table sat atop the rug, and sprawled out over it was all manner of documents and two leather-covered tablets.

Quatre sank into one of the chairs and motioned for Duo to do the same, and then he rummaged through the papers and produced a newsletter clipping. He waved this about for a moment as he said, "We're on my private vessel now, so you can rest assured that you won't be recorded or judged for your reaction. Better, since Sally signed you over there is literally nothing you can say to me that can be used against you in any way. You can talk to me safely. Still, you should brace yourself, Duo, because you won't like what you hear."

Duo's heart fluttered. His stomach was acid.

"We'll start with the news that's easy to take," Quatre began. "You were in the stasis chamber for twenty-nine days. That's good because it allowed you a chance to heal—when you were admitted it was with a serious infection and concussion, not to mention the superficial bruises and scrapes that come from mobile suit detonation." Quatre breathed deep. "Next, you ought to know that you're being court martialed."

Duo blinked several times in rapid succession, shook his head, and recognized only afterward that his jaw was hanging loose. Quatre waited very patiently for Duo's reaction to run its course before he sighed.

"You've got no questions at all?"

Duo looked over all of the papers on the table but could gather no useful information from them. If he was honest with himself he had too many questions, didn't know where to begin.

"Mobile suit detonation," Duo uttered with his eyes on the floor. It was neither a question nor a statement, more a wonderment, as he could recall no such detonation having ever taken place.

"You heard correctly," Quatre said, and he leveled the clipping at Duo. "This is an article printed shortly after the incident took place. It's a good representation of what's been going on."

The incident, Duo thought as he received the paper. No good could come from an event being labeled vaguely as an incident. When he looked at the clipping he noted first its enormous headline: Secretary General Addresses Colonial Disaster. Quatre had annotated the article, underlining and circling, and Duo noted a round-lettered "what?" scrawled in one margin. He read silently:

Secretary General Relena Peacecraft has remained notably silent on the matter of the unprovoked attack on M-204 last Wednesday, in which seventy-five soldiers and all of the thirty-seven million residents of the colony were killed after rounds from an unidentified mobile suit pierced the colony's core. Soldiers who remained in the vicinity of the explosion are still being treated. More details on casualties are available on page twenty-four.

Today, the Secretary issued a statement calling for "continued patience" in the investigation and said that rumors of ESUN Military involvement in the attack are "unfounded" and "radical." Secretary General Peacecraft specifically cited last week's article, Colony Destroyed in Terrorist Attack, in which our news team suggested that the Secretary might have personal connections to the terrorists responsible for the attacks. She states that she has no involvement with the deceased terrorist identified as Elliott DeSchepper and had no knowledge that armed mobile suits and dolls were in production anywhere in our system. The Secretary refused to comment on her relationship with Master Sergeant Duo Maxwell, who our sources indicate may have been the pilot of the unidentified mobile suit.

Once considered a hero of the One Year War of AC195 and Marimeia Khushrenada incident of AC196, Maxwell served alongside First Gentleman Heero Yuy and acted most recently as a test pilot for military sanctioned vessels for asteroid and lunar mining corporations. Reports indicate that in the weeks prior to the colony's destruction Maxwell went missing, though no files were reported with the ESUN Military's personnel department, and he was recovered at the scene of the disaster by a civilian craft. A military tribunal has been scheduled to hear evidence in the case.

Secretary General Peacecraft assures citizens that no cover-ups have taken place and that we are being informed of all developments as they occur, but citizens of Earth remain skeptical and space colonists restless. In the wake of this tragedy, many fear more terrorist attacks. Representatives of the Earth Sphere Unified Nation request that anyone with additional information come forward immediately.

Duo read the article twice over and then simply stared. The words would not process in his brain. If he was to extrapolate it would seem that he was responsible for the colony's destruction. But how?

Duo returned the clipping to the stack on the table and rested his forehead on his palm, staring a hole into the rug. I destroyed a colony, he thought, his blood running cold. I destroyed a colony. Duo's throat tightened, and yet again he found himself holding back blind panic.

"Are you all right?"

Quatre's voice brought him immediately back, and Duo sat straight with a conspicuous clear of his throat. Duo nodded, but the look on Quatre's face told him that Quatre didn't believe it. Duo felt shell shocked.

"I know it's hard to process. You've done a terrible thing," Quatre said gently.

Duo gave a start and stared at Quatre with wide eyes. That phrase struck something deep in his gut, something that Duo could not place. The words were familiar, and though Quatre's voice had been calm and understanding, the words were judgmental and cold. It seems you've done a terrible thing. Duo squeezed his eyes closed against the thought, against the intense foreboding feeling, and saw a white room, a silhouette at a table.

Quatre leaned forward, his brow knit with concern, and touched Duo's forearm lightly. "Are you okay?"

Duo's mind raced with thoughts so complex that he scarcely heard Quatre speak at all, and so he did not respond. With his eyes closed, he saw fleeting visions of space, of stars, of a colony floating in the distance. A ship crossed his path. Missiles flew toward it. Weaved throughout the still frames in his mind were the Father, Helen, a mobile suit, a white room. He felt soul-piercing cold.

Quatre prodded Duo harder and moved from his chair to assist. "Are you all right?" he asked again.

Suddenly, Duo remembered death. Oblivious to Quatre's concern, he recalled the belief that he was destined for Hell. Helen had looked so sad. Is this Hell, then? he thought. No. Quatre wouldn't be in hell—unless…

Duo looked up at once, meeting Quatre's concerned eyes with ice. "You destroyed a colony, too," he said quietly. "That means we're in Hell together."

Quatre's face screwed up with confusion, and he shook his head urgently. "No," he insisted, "no we're not dead. You're very much alive. I'm alive. This is reality, not Hell."

"You're my escort," Duo explained, echoing his remembrance from the dream. The slightest hint of mania had crept into his voice. "You're going to take me—"

The look that had settled on Quatre's face stopped Duo mid-word. The confusion had melted into indignation, perhaps even disgust, as if Duo had begun speaking in tongues. But when Duo had been silent for a few moments, Quatre's face softened again to rest, and he said, "I'm going to stop you there, Duo. I want you to stop and listen. Can you do that?"

Duo nodded, afraid to speak and upset Quatre again.

"Are you going to panic again?"

Duo shook his head.

With a great sigh, Quatre spoke evenly and factually, explaining the circumstances leading from Duo's test flight up to the destruction of M-204. "You were stuck in a mobile suit that you built as a prototype for lunar mining; you were commanding a legion of mobile dolls through a remote operating system. But for some reason she threatened to detonate the suit, we think. That was broadcast on the radios; everyone present at the scene heard her screaming to destroy it. Well, Heero, Sally, and Milliardo were in a civilian craft equipped with an ion cannon. They had hoped to find you and extract you from the mothership but when they heard the call they knew for sure you weren't aboard. The evidence Heero put together says that they heard the command to destroy your mobile suit and fired the cannon at the ship, temporarily disabling its communication. In that short time, you fired on them and then the systems came back online. The command to destroy the suit had been issued, and so the suit detonated with you inside."

Now the facts had been laid out plainly Duo remembered. He took it in with forced stoicism: He had promised Quatre that he wouldn't panic and he meant to keep his word. When he thought on the matter, Duo recalled everything Quatre had said, at least in some way, though the memories remained blurred together. And where normally there would be emotions tied to the recollections, presently all was numb. The images came to his mind but they did so alone.

"Are you okay?"

Duo nodded.

"You were a mess when they recovered you. They called me in for a consult and as soon as I saw that infected wound I ordered in a stasis chamber. Your blood work was swimming with bacteria. On top of that, you were saturated with a ridiculous mix of anti-psychotic drugs and other chemicals; I've never seen anything like it in my life. That may explain your anxiety—we tried to get you to sleep through the detox but it can take weeks for the drugs to completely clear your system." Quatre then produced a small legal pad from the table and poised himself to write. "So now you've heard my version of events, or at least the version that we've cobbled together from everyone's evidence. I need you to tell me what you know."

"Quell," Duo uttered.

"What?"

"The drug they used. They called it Quell," Duo explained and Quatre recorded. "Twice a day."

Quatre raised an eyebrow. "Well, I've heard that name before," he said. "What else do you remember about your imprisonment?"

Duo shook his head. "Nothing," he said. Truthfully he did remember a bit, though the fractured memories would prove too difficult to explain. He recalled a cell, the man in the white coat who certainly must have died in the blast, and the mobile doll testing chamber. He had once thought them apparitions borne of his anxious dreams, but now that Quatre had explained the situation, he realized that they had been true.

Quatre sighed again, jotted down a few notes, and replaced the legal pad on the table. Then he leaned back in the chair and looked to the ceiling. "I know you're holding back," he said quietly. "You've never been this shut up about anything for as long as I've known you." He stood suddenly and made his way to a desk on the wall opposite the door. Duo heard the open and close of a drawer, and Quatre returned with a small leather-bound book in hand, which he thrust Duo's way. "I don't know what it is. I can't tell if you don't know what to say, if you're too scared to say anything, or if the reality of the situation hasn't hit you yet. You're going to have to issue a statement now that you're awake. The court martial will require that much at least. When something comes into your brain you write it down, and we can discuss it later. I'll stay docked to Peacemillion until you're cleared and the court martial is over, but it's not going to do any good for any of us if you won't open up a little."

Duo stood and received the tiny book, thumbed through the empty pages, and nodded his accord. He had much to think on, particularly with the information Quatre had given and the memories it sparked, and it seemed he had all the time in the world to do that thinking.

As Duo made for the door, Quatre called after him: "Don't turn on the news."