The Isle

by puzzlepuzzle

In the aftermath of the Second War, Athrun Zala vanished without a trace for seven years - Cagalli never thought to find him. But fate deviates when he comes to find her himself and a web of desire and deceit lies before them. Original Cover Art SEQUEL OUT. .

29. Chapter 28

I own nothing of GS/GSD. R&R please.

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A/N: Well dear readers, I must say that it's been awesome sticking around with this fic and having you stick around too. Special thanks to the amazing reviewers who really bothered to articulate their thoughts and spoilt me with lovely comments every time. (Some of you even came close to swearing at me so that I would hurry up and updated- awesome!) Frankly, whenever I get a review, I feel like cheering.

Sorry again for the late update- there's nothing weirder than being in the hospital and rushing out papers for criminal law and jurisprudence while writing scenes for a person stuck in the hospital who later becomes part of a courtroom drama. (See below)

It's like I live for fanfiction- except that it's not funny when it seems literal.

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Chapter 28

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Breakfast was cold water and a slice of bread with no butter.

Athrun wouldn't have minded that at all, except that the water was served over his face and the bread on the floor.

Lunch was a bit less of a surprise- the usual questioning went on and his silence and the obstinate numbness to his face made the interrogators crack first. Athrun pitied them, for they had not been trained to wait, unlike him. He had been trained to wait for a father who'd never quite returned as a child, and he'd spent more of his years waiting for closure that had never come. Unlike Athrun, these guards were far too impatient. As the hours went by everyday, it did not take long for their frustration to be inflicted on him.

As a result, Athrun often found his left cheek pressed into the table surface and a bruise on the other. The impact of the punch was never enough to leave a new mark- it left the same one over and over again that suggested Athrun Zala was taking a long time to recover from an old wound. Nothing would suggest that he was undergoing an interrogation that dealt with more than mere questioning.

Dinner was served like lunch.

For supper, Athrun was deprived of sleep. If there was one thing that he felt sorry about, it was the poor sod who was assigned to deprive Athrun Zala of sleep while depriving himself of his own.

The biggest irony was that nobody had realized that Athrun didn't want to sleep either. His quiet strength and numbed, almost introverted ways made the investigators highly unnerved by him, and they retaliated by demanding that he answer them even more. It was quite understandable, Athrun thought, that they felt as if he was preventing them from doing their job and that they wanted to hurt him for making their work slow and difficult.

It was a pity that his interrogators didn't know that they were helping him.

For every hour of his being awake, it was better than being haunted by the way that Cagalli been wounded and pale, so weak and fallible in his arms. He didn't want to dream of anything- let alone of her.

So he stuck to his uncooperative silence and the questioning went on for the next three days until they were sure he was ready to say something- anything.

"Zala!" He could hear someone rapping the floor he was lying on. "Get up! Are you ready to tell us of what you were planning?"

As Athrun got up slowly from where he'd collapsed some hours ago, he found that his bones were aching like he had been battered. Of course, that was not far from the truth. He was glad they hadn't gotten to water-boarding yet, and he was thankful that he was in a separate confinement cell.

After the Second War, any measure against terrorists was justified legally and ethically in any part of the world and even the Plants. Lord Djibril, as he had proclaimed himself, had set up and arms trade that spanned across half the world's continents to further the enmity between Coordinators and Naturals, and the world was quite keen not to repeat that.

As a result, internal, international and galactic terrorists were not exactly the most welcomed anywhere. Where they were put into was only a temporary hole like this one, where information would be forced from them. Athrun was very familiar with this because he had been the one to interrogate various people over the years while working for the Plant Intelligence Council.

Maybe this was karma, he thought grimly, feeling himself groan in pain as he was forcefully pulled to his feet. Also, Athrun was not ignorant of the extent of questioning he would undergo if he did not say anything. Nevertheless, he kept his secrets as he had promised Yzak to.

"Zala," He heard the lead interrogator demand, "The people you were brought in all say the same thing. Why don't you save the court some time and just confess to being the leader of the Danish Nationalists?"

The question was loaded. They all thought he was the mastermind. They all would think so, naturally.

He was a Coordinator and he knew that the head officer in charge of the imprisoned terrorists disliked Coordinators. The officer had told him so, and had instructed the interrogators to stop at nothing to get the truth from Athrun.

Athrun knew what kind of truth they wanted. They wanted evidence to incriminate him. After all, the officer told him that he hoped Athrun would be found guilty so that the officer's brother would be avenged. The officer's brother had died from Patrick Zala's first decision as the Plant Chairman- to attack the Pacific.

At points, when he was standing in the manacled position the interrogators had forced him into, he would think. He would think so much that the floor seemed to shake, and sleep was always a moment away in a frozen space of time. And in those points, Athrun would fight to keep from falling- even though he always did at some point.

While he fluctuated between the zones of consciousness and exhaustion, Athrun would fight to remember why it was worth clenching his teeth and holding on, and he would fight to convince himself that he didn't need anyone's trust except hers.

To be frank though, Athrun didn't have anyone's trust left except Cagalli's.

Each time he found himself falling, the world around him growing more distant despite the interrogators' efforts to deprive him of sleep, he would think of the way Kira had looked at him. The events of the time he'd last seen Cagalli would play, and he would repeat to himself that it had been worth seeing her safe- even if she'd foiled his plans again the way she had when he'd met her on the SS Rafael.

The lead interrogator that was in charge of this remand centre was banging his fist on the table. As the key person the Galatic Courts were counting on to do their inquiries, he was certainly taking his role very seriously. Either that, Athrun thought sarcastically, or he thought that making Athrun Zala his punching bag was going to get him promoted.

"Who do you work for?" The man demanded. "Nobody believes you were merely an intelligencer for Plant and Zaft- nobody's that stupid here. Even your former bosses don't want to stick around to defend you in court."

When he had been seized by the Orb undercover soldiers on behalf of Orb and the Galactic Courts, Athrun had allowed himself to be taken without any fuss. The Orb interrogators had already had their go with him and so had the Plants, the Earth Alliance, Scandinavia, and the relevant people he'd be seeing at the Galactic Court's decision in a week's time.

"Not talking eh?" The other interrogator had dark circles under his eyes, and Athrun wondered how tiring it was to force a person to say something.

"Athrun Zala!" The lead was shouting at this point. "Why did you turn up at the Swedish Place? You were already not part of the Eyes by then, right?"

His silence made them angrier. Athrun though, knew it was true. By the time he had entered the Swedish Palace, he had been working for nobody but himself.

"Did you shoot the High King?" The other interrogator used a more direct line of questioning. "You entered the room, didn't you? You used the gun you carried on yourself to deliver a bullet into his chest at point blank, didn't you?"

Athrun did not answer. He knew who had. And while he didn't think it was particularly blameworthy, given who or what Pietre Harraldsson had really been, Athrun didn't want to implicate anyone.

"Did you plan the attack on the palace?" The second interrogator barked. "How did Cagalli Yula Atha end up there and why where you there at that time? Did you instigate your followers to go there and attack the palace? Or was there an internal power struggle?"

"What about the Orb troops?" The lead interrogator asked. "Did you plan anything with the Orb Proxy?"

Even if Athrun had to that extent, Kira had not been able to find her in time. Nor had he been able to order a ceasefire, for he'd seemd to have lost control over the Orb forces. Similarly, the Scandinavian Royal Guards had neither took instructions from him or seemed to want to. It had been pointless shouting for the Orb troops to stop fighting when the Scandinavian Guards were not backing down at all.

With the unconscious Cagalli in his arms, Kira had stood at the balcony, not facing Athrun but shouting once, then again, for the division leaders to stop. Kira's helplessness had been very clear, and Athrun had wondered why the best-laid plans were always the ones that amounted to nothing in the end.

"Are you in cahoots with the Orb Proxy?"

Athrun did not answer.

"He's not talking," One interrogator sighed. "How do we get him to talk?"

"Tell us what happened then." The other told Athrun directly. "Or we'll have to use tougher means."

It was then that Athrun broke his silence for the first time ever since he'd narrated the events. As he spoke, he knew that his throat was cracking with disuse and his lips were bleeding from being parched. "I've already told you. Anything more would be a repetition."

"You haven't explained why you were there!" The first interrogator exclaimed. "Or admitted to why you were amongst the terrorists!"

"I have." Athrun said tiredly. "I was working as an Intelligencer- an Eye."

"You were working as terrorists- part of the Danish Nationalists! As their leader, no less!" His questioner snarled. "Admit it!"

Athrun looked at him stubbornly. As he had been led out from the palace, he had recognized Greyfriars' body amongst those who had fallen. But saying that would make no effect to the accusations that Athrun was facing. Moreover, some part of him wanted a kind of closure, even if it meant having to say it where the world would scrutinize him for it.

No, Athrun decided. If he ever told the truth, it would not be for these interrogators' sakes or his own. It would be for those he needed to see again.

"Let's try another question." The other interrogator interjected. "Do you recognize this gun?"

He lobbed one in front of Athrun. This was new- Athrun looked at them with growing interest that held some irony and a mocking light in his eyes. That they were showing him this suggested that investigations were complete.

On the table, there was the gun that Athrun had carried briefly. It had been Kira's.

"There were no bullets left when the investigators found it. Care to admit that you used it at one point or another?" The interrogator looked at him closely. "There are your prints on it. Kira Yamato claimed it as his when his testimony was taken. How did your prints lend up there?"

"What did you use it for?"

Athrun stared at the weapon placed in front of him. As he thought about how Kira had turned away from him, he felt a strangely gripping anger swell into him and he felt his fingers tremble.

"Was Kira Yamato in cahoots with the terrorists too?" The interrogator asked.

"I don't think so," The other interrogator told his colleague in a hurried whisper before Athrun could say anything. "None of them seemed to realize that he was amongst the Orb troops who entered- or that the troops were even from Orb."

It was true. Nobody had paid Kira Yamato any attention. Even if the troops had stopped, the guards would not have. As one guard had made it up the stairs, shooting at Epstein and forcing him to throw himself aside to evade, Kira seemed to have frozen. Athrun however, had lost no time in grabbing at Kira's gun and using it when his own ran out of bullets.

"So you used his gun, eh?" The lead interrogator moved around the chair that Athrun sat in, trying to intimidate him.

"He let me use it to defend him." Athrun told them, fully aware that Kira would face more questioning after this. But a little bitterness had long wormed its way into his heart, and the last memories of Kira shielding Cagalli as if Athrun would try to harm her gave Athrun enough reason to tell the investigators this.

Not that they believed him, of course.

"Ho!" The investigator spat. "A likely tale!"

"But it's true." Athrun stated calmly.

Athrun would have continued shooting, save that there was a clink of something and smoke rose from the ground floor, floating thick and grey towards where they were on the landing. As the soldier Athrun had taken down collapsed on the staircase, he took one glimpse at what was happening below and saw only vague, masked figures coughing within the smoke.

Several though, seemed fine and were approaching the staircase quite swiftly, almost as if they knew where they were going. As it was, Athrun had been able to count roughly five people who were definitely not part of the ongoing scuffle.

Kira had spoken, his face more gaunt than Athrun could ever recall but his eyes alert. "What's happening?"

Athrun had no chance to say anything. Even if he had, he would not have known how to explain to Kira that Sheba was probably leading the way, given her familiarity with this palace, and that the smoke screen had been caused by Barnett Romia.

"How is it possible that you could even shoot anyone," countered an interrogator, "When you claimed previously that you couldn't see anything? You claimed that there was a ceasefire when a smoke bomb was thrown by the Eyes."

"I used his gun before the other Eyes arrived." Athrun said quietly.

Below, nobody had been fighting anymore. There had been too much smoke to see what was going on. Yet, Barnett's device had probably made it here in the nick of time.

The rest of the events had progressed as inevitably to Athrun as the way Cagalli must have found herself coming here upon suspecting that Kira was going to be hurt while in Sweden.

"I don't want to know how the fight was interrupted by your supposed colleagues from Plant's Intelligence Council," The lead interrogator barked at him. We already know that from the testimony of your colleagues without you having to confirm it for us. "We just want you to say whether you were part of the terrorists or not, and whether you kidnapped Cagalli Yula Atha."

Athrun stared blankly at the second interrogator, feeling sympathy for both of them. They'd stayed up with him for a few days, depriving themselves of sleep while trying to deprive him of his.

"Let's go," The lead interrogator said to his subordinate in disgust. "He's too stubborn."

"Way too stubborn for someone who orchestrated so many attacks on those innocent people at the palace and on the yacht." The other agreed, talking as if Athrun wasn't quite there. "But we haven't gotten any information yet."

"Ah well- one last shot then?"

"Right." Both of them looked at each other and nodded.

"Tell us why you didn't run when there was a chance to with the smokescreen."

Athrun knew why. The answer had been in Kira's arms.

By the time Athrun had been taken away, there had been enough bodies accumulated on the steps for the rest of the guards to wise up. The Orb troops had paused to see what was happening at the top of the stairs, and that was when the second-in-command had managed to weave his way out of the confusion. He'd ran up the stairs and rushed at Athrun, imagining that he was about to shoot Cagalli and Kira.

And Kira had stood, a thin wound on his cheek dripping blood in a vertical strand of crimson down his face.

He'd shown no clear emotion, but Athrun had caught sight of the slight doubt and even regret on Kira's face as Athrun had been led away- limp in his leg and blood stains clear to all those who'd dropped their weapons and watched. Athrun kept his head high, passing by his friend and Cagalli.

Kira had shielded Cagalli instinctively, almost as if Athrun would suddenly break the grip of the handcuffs and rush at them both. But their eyes had met briefly for that moment, and Kira had been the first to drop the gaze.

How apt it was, Athrun had thought there and then, that Kira had sported a wound that Athrun's cheek mirrored. How queer it was that their lives should come to this. And how funny it was that Kira's expression hardened as Athrun was led away.

And how strange it was, Athrun thought, that their wounds were similar and that Kira would have noticed if only they'd been standing eye to eye. But Kira hadn't given him a second glance as Athrun had been led away- he'd been too preoccupied with the unconscious Cagalli by then.

Now, Athrun laughed.

As it was, the lead interrogator was looking at him in the eye, angered by his lack of an answer once more. Athrun's chin was tilted backwards and his roots felt in danger of being yanked from his scalp, but it was nice to have someone look him in the eye.

Even if a punch came next.

It did.

"What weapons were being manufactured for the terrorists you led?" The interrogator barked. Athrun said nothing, although it might have been due to the numbness of his jaw and the searing pain in front of his eyes.

"And where were those manufactured?" The other demanded. "And where was the hiding place you were all at?"

"If you don't tell us, you'll have to go through more roughing up. You might as well spit it out, since the courts will be grilling you soon anyway."

Athrun thought of all the possibilities. He thought of Kira looking at him with that fear and mistrust in his eyes, and he thought of how he could change that. He thought of Cagalli lying unconscious, weak and pale with her blood loss, and he wondered if she would be fine. He had hoped that she would be found by Kira fast enough, and that she'd see her nephew and Lacus.

Perhaps if he told them, Athrun thought vaguely, they'd leave them all alone.

He was forced to stop calculating the odds of backing out of his promise to Yzak when another blow arrived.

"Stop being so stubborn!" The lead cried, losing his control quite ironically when it had been Athrun who should have been begging for it all to stop. "Just get this over and done with!"

"It's okay," His subordinate assured him. "He's going to break soon."

But Athrun kept his silence.

---

As Kira ran his fingers over Cagalli's cheek, he was aware of how tentative her expression was, and how afraid she seemed to be. Her eyes and hair seemed to be spun of the light in his memory, and her posture had always seemed perfect in his mind. Here though, she was a far cry from what the media pictured of her.

The apple she had taken from the fruit basket and tried to offer to him was still in her palm, her eyes wide and her lips slightly ajar in surprise. "Kira, I-,"

"I'm sorry." He said softly. "It was my fault back then- I shouldn't have said what I did."

He had come in to visit her with all intents and purposes of keeping unhappy things from plaguing their time together. But she had seemed uncomfortable to have him in the same room without Aaron and Marlin, and like a stranger, she had busied herself trying to reach for fruit that was near her but not near enough to take immediately. Unable to help himself, Kira had sat next to her and pulled her into his arms.

Alone, she did not seem quite as formidable as he had always placed her in his mind. Without her entourage, she seemed defenseless and less decisive. Here, in this bed, she seemed closer to the helpless, extremely vulnerable person who had lost her ability to speak for longer than Kira liked to recall.

"It was my fault," He repeated, feeling as lost as he had always been ever since she had disappeared. "Please forgive me."

She cut him off by enveloping him in her embrace, shaking her head, burying her face into his shoulder. "Only if you forgive me first."

"You did no wrong." He said gently.

And Kira pulled away, fetching a fruit-peeler and dealing with an orange that he suspected Cagalli was saving for herself. She laughed once, a soft, bright sound that reminded him of the past.

"I figured out you chose the apple for a reason." He said dryly.

Smiling, Cagalli asked without thinking, "How is Leon?"

Kira began to smile too, but then his brow furrowed. He turned around, his hands pausing. "How did you know that we named him Leon?"

She stuttered a half-formed lie, trying to keep the guilt from her voice. She could still remember how the photographs had been scattered across the sheets, Athrun telling her about the child and his hands searching for her as they lay together. She could remember how distracted she had been and how impatiently he had sought her, reminding her that she could not leave; denying her request to see Kira and Lacus.

"Cagalli?" Kira questioned, his voice growing into a demand.

"O-Oh, Aaron mentioned-," She waved her hand negligently, dropping her gaze from Kira's.

"Oh." Kira said suspiciously.

He pulled her away, gazing at her with a growing concern etched into his face. "Cagalli, did you send those letters?"

She bit her lip, then nodded hesitantly. Kira seemed troubled by this, but said nothing, and Cagalli knew that it was unlikely for her twin to tell her anything of his own volition. Still, she tried.

"You did think those were from me, didn't you?"

"Of course." He told her reluctantly. "There was the seal."

She took a plunge. "Did you know I was with Athrun at that time?"

He said nothing as he got up and began to look for everything and nothing. Still holding the apple, Cagalli observed her twin move around to room to fetch a miniature kettle, emptying it and refilling it again. He seemed controlled enough, Cagalli reckoned, although his silence was telling of his unwillingness to reveal something.

"I can handle it you know," She said quietly. "I've survived death a few times already."

Kira turned around, holding the kettle still. His tone was sharp. "It's not that I don't trust you, Cagalli. It's not even that I'm worried for you and the danger he must have put you in." He turned back, beginning to refill the kettle until some water spilled over and he closed the tap unwillingly.

She noticed how reluctant Kira was in saying Athrun's name, and she wondered if she was any different. "Then you can say what you're thinking, Kira. I want to hear it."

He was silent as he plugged the kettle and set it to boil water. For what purpose she did not know. The doctors had already specified that tea and coffee were not to be consumed in the usual quantities that she was used to, and as she understood it, Kira did not really like either beverage.

"Say it." Cagalli demanded, slipping out of bed. He tried to move her back, but she pushed his hand away, tossing the apple where it rolled aimlessly on the sheet for a little distance. "We've not talked to each other for too long. Now that I'm back, you need to say what you're thinking, Kira."

He stared at her, frustrated. When he spoke, his tone confirmed his emotions. "I always knew you were with him, Cagalli. It was a suspicion at first- a strange feeling that I had no proof for. But then I used Yzak to find out that Athrun was working for the Intelligence Council and I knew by the second letter that he was with you- wherever you were. And the third letter-," He shook his head, trying to remain focused. "Only two people know of Torii's serial number on the inner joint- myself and Athrun. I don't think the last seal had those numbers there as a matter of randomness."

"So that's how he did it," Cagalli whispered to herself. Her mind was moving very fast, and she was suddenly seeing why Athrun had been forced to send her back alone. "That's why you were even at Sweden."

"I was too late though," Kira said, looking ruefully at Cagalli's arm.

She shook her head, looking at her wound too. "It's not a big deal."

And sighing a little, he led her back to the bed, where he resumed his seat at her side. "Tell me where he brought you to and why."

"You know why already." Cagalli told him in a low voice. "The Intelligence Council has released a statement that you must have heard."

"I heard why." Kira admitted. "But not why he had to do it."

She stared at Kira, wondering how to say all that she had learnt. Twisting her hand in her lap, she gazed at the shiny surface of the apple and thought of the night when Athrun had reappeared. Why he? He had told her, but she didn't find herself capable of repeating it to Kira. Her instincts warned her against this, and as painful as it was to hide something from her twin, she could sense that Kira was suspicious of Athrun.

For Cagalli, she did not know how to approach the issue at all. On one hand, she could not trust anybody else and yet on the other, she wanted to confide in Kira. For now, she decided that it wasn't the time. Shaking her head, she said, "I don't know."

He studied her, saying nothing.

"I don't know," She said again, trying to inject firmness into her voice.

"Then what about this?" He reached into his pocket and pulled something out.

Cagalli stared at what glimmered in the light and gasped. She reached out with her good hand, trying to hold onto what Kira must have taken from her when she had been unconscious. "Give that back!"

He passed it to her, knowing that she would leap out of bed if she didn't get it back.

The ring on its chain winked in the lights, and on her palm, it seemed to belong to another time period altogether. She closed her fingers around it, missing its presence dreadfully, suddenly aware that it had been taken from her. In her palm, the ring pressed into her flesh, and Cagalli was afraid that tears were building in her eyes.

"I can guess what you're going to say." Kira said softly. "You're going to tell me that he happened to have it still and he happened to give it back to you."

In that moment, Cagalli knew Kira could not trust Athrun for more than the reasons apparent to the world. Had Marlin spoken to Kira too? Would she have to fight her own twin once again, and ironically for believing in Athrun this time?

"I'm not sure what that ring means." Kira continued. "And I'm afraid to know too." He rubbed his face with his hand. "I hope that he didn't hurt you more than what he has already done."

"Athrun hasn't hurt me!" Cagalli protested, using his name as Kira flinched. "How could you say that, Kira?"

He said nothing but his eyes lingered on her wounds.

"I don't think he intended for this to happen!" She said desperately. "Why else would he write a letter with detailed instructions?"

"He was with the terrorists when the Orb troops arrived." Kira reminded her. "I saw him."

"That doesn't mean he wasn't working undercover at that time!" Her defiance increased, as did the intensity of her voice. She turned her eyes on Kira, her voice sharp. "He wouldn't betray me, Kira."

"Betray you?" Kira breathed. "What do you understand when you say betray, Cagalli? Do you mean betray in the context of your seal being used for a third letter you didn't send? Or do you mean the way you're here with all these injuries despite how happy you are that you have that ring?"

His face darkened and he got up again, pushing himself forward where the kettle was beginning to hiss softly. "I don't think you understand the situation you're in."

"But I do!" She insisted. "Kira, what exactly do you think I am? A silly child who doesn't understand the implications of falling in love with someone like him?"

He made tea that nobody would drink. "I'm beginning to think so."

She shook her head. "But he needs me, Kira."

Kira said nothing for a long time, adding sugar to the tea. Cagalli knew he would not serve it to her or to himself, but he seemed to find solace in doing something that had no end to it. And when he spoke, his voice was shaking slightly with anger. "Doing a person a kindness is not the same as loving the person, Cagalli. Nor does receiving a kindness require you to love the person back. I learnt that a long time ago."

Her own sorrow and pent-up frustration began to spill over. "I know that, Kira. But I didn't owe Athrun a kindness, and I didn't owe him affection for his kindness either."

"Then why are you bent on destroying what you've established over the years?" Kira demanded, stirring so furiously for a second that it seemed the spoon would leap out. He took it out and tossed it into the sink, where it made a violent thunk.

"Because I owe myself a chance to live."

---

Over the next day, Marlin zeroed in on how the proceedings would turn out. He had been trained to understand how a jury and judge thought, and with the background findings and the way the jury had been chosen, Marlin was confident that his case theory would be congruent with the court's expectations.

At present, Marlin's eyes roved over the pictures of the evidence that he'd obtained, and he tapped his fingers on his chin, wondering what to make of it.

Next to him, the patient stirred and immediately alert, Marlin glanced over to her. Cagalli had the countenance of a child fighting nightmares with her brow furrowed and her lips parted in a murmur of fear. She was regaining her health quite steadily, but her fitfulness seemed to increase by the hour.

Feeling sorry for her but preferring her to get the sleep that she needed, Marlin returned to his files and gathered them, moving to the next room. He would have liked to stay by her side and watch over her as she slept, but as it was, it was difficult to watch her struggling in her dreams.

While Cagalli slept, Marlin slipped out of the room that she had occupied for the past few days. In the adjoining guest room, he joined Aaron, who was looking very tired with visible dark circles under his eyes.

Nodding once to the person that he had established a fairly good but slightly uneasy relationship with, Marlin sat down.

"How is she?" Aaron whispered. His clothes were rumpled and Marlin realized that he had never seen Aaron look so sloppy before. But it spoke volumes about what Aaron was going through and how tiring the taking of his testimony had been.

"Before that," Marlin asked worriedly, "How are you? How did it go?"

"How badly could it have gone?" Aaron said, attempting a smile that came off as a being a little weak. "I gave my testimony and that was that. There haven't been loopholes, and for now, it seems to be verified."

"I'm glad." Marlin nodded. "It would be terribly unfair if the inquiry against you continued."

"There were pretty good grounds to suspect that I was involved in her kidnapping though." Cagalli's subordinated admitted. "I did do the booking of flights and the arranging of the people who would receive her in Scandinavia. I was also the one who responded to the invitation that Sweden sent on behalf of Scandinavia."

"She trusts you." Marlin told Aaron. "I think that's good enough. Like Kira, she would never suspect that you did anything to harm her."

"I hope so." Aaron said, looking very down-hearted despite Marlin's words. "How is she?"

Marlin shook his head. "She's still quite weak- physically. But she's very stubborn about wanting to do her own investigations. I don't think she's grasped the full picture of what she's up against. She's not in Scandinavia anymore- she won't have a chance to go back to the crime scene or the town square that she claims she was at before that."

Aaron's shoulders sagged as he sat back. "Poor Cagalli. She's exhausted from this- how can she face the questioning that she will be put through? Besides, she can't have shot Pietre Harraldsson. She was injured so badly- how could one even manage a shot like that?"

"I agree." Marlin's face hardened. "But let's face it. Having one's left arm broken is not the same as having no more use of the right arm. Even the weakest of women would be able to lift a right arm when it remained unbroken. That's against her."

"But she'd never shoot Harraldsson!" Aaron cried out, quite forgetting that Cagalli was a thin wall away. "She can't have! She doesn't know how to shoot at close range like that! She has never fired a shot since-,"

He voice dropped and he turned away from Marlin.

"Wait," Marlin said urgently. "What do you mean? She doesn't know how to shoot at point blank range? Aaron, tell me how that is possible! This could save her!"

Aaron took a shuddering gulp of air. "I d-don't think I can, Marlin. She made me swear to keep it to myself."

"I'm afraid I must know." Marlin said firmly. "If you want to save her, we need the best evidence around. As it stands, there are only three possibilities as to what happened. One, Athrun Zala shot Pietre Harraldsson. Two, Cagalli did. Three, the witnesses were all lying. I believe they aren't for now. All fifty-something of them have pretty consistent testimonies of the sequence of events. And if Cagalli can't possibly shoot at point-blank, then she will be safe."

Looking troubled, Aaron stared at the files that Marlin had collated over this time. Those had grown increasingly thicker.

"Well, why can't you just prove that it is the first possibility that really occurred?" Aaron said nervously. He twisted his hands anxiously. "As long as you prove it's Athrun Zala, she'll be exonerated, right?"

"That's not the way it works." Marlin told him. "I defend. The person who proves it's Athrun Zala is the Galactic Court's prosecutor. Of course," He continued grimly, "I will paint Cagalli as a meek, very shattered and disorientated woman for the purposes of this trial. I am half-inclined to think that even now, that description is very accurate."

"I get your point," Aaron agreed. His eyes dimmed. "She's bewildered and she's confused by what she's been put through. That's why she can't answer anything and that's why she doesn't seem to trust any of us anymore. You know, she just keeps repeating that Harraldsson was out to kill her!" He thought of Cagalli's past experiences and felt the weight o his back increase ten-fold. "She's been ruined by that experience- it's going to take her so much time to shake the trauma of it off."

"Rest assured," Marlin said quietly. "I will make sure that even beyond a balance of probabilities, Cagalli cannot possibly have shot Harraldsson."

"How?" Aaron said shakily. "She could have shot him with her right hand."

"For starters," Marlin muttered. "Athrun Zala is more likely to be the culprit. That's our trump."

The interesting thing, Marlin noted, was that Athrun Zala's fingerprints were on three different guns. The first one had been the very gun found in the room where Harraldsson had suffered his fate, and the second on the gun that had been confiscated while on Athrun Zala's person. The next one had been on the gun that Kira Yamato had used while in the palace, as Kira could attest to.

"The gun that Cagalli had presumably held cased only one bullet left." Aaron recalled.

"What could have happened to the other five?" Marlin wondered.

As it was, Harraldsson had been brought down in a hail of bullets. But prior to that, someone had fired point blank at his chest. The only people who could have been in that room, according to fifty odd guards and thirty terrorists were Athrun Zala, Cagalli and Harraldsson. By the time Athrun Zala had been seized by the own people that he'd claimed to have served, he'd had nothing on him except an empty gun with his prints on it.

By every right, Marlin thought to himself, the weapon must have been the one found on Athrun Zala or the one that Cagalli had held. Still, he assured himself, just because she had held it didn't mean that she had shot- it merely meant that she must have collapsed and that Athrun Zala had entered and used it on Harraldsson.

"That must be it," He whispered to himself. He focused on Aaron. "I know what happened now. But to exonerate her entirely and to cast no more doubt on her, I need to know why she couldn't have shot even with her right arm functioning normally."

Even before Aaron took a deep breath in and told him, Marlin was already sure that Cagalli couldn't have been the person who had caused the injury to Pietre Harraldsson.

---

As Yzak Joule marched towards the car that the Plant embassy had hailed for him, he felt uncannily similar to something that lived in a fishbowl. If he had seemed to have mellowed over the years, his face, with its tightened displeasure and his mouth that was twisted in anger, suggested that his temper had not outgrown him.

He might have appeared to be a normal person with his grey, almost common place tweed coat. It reeked of the ordinary and it flapped in the chilly late afternoon, even what was left of the sunlight in Poland's winter continued fading. Yet, his vision was bright with the bulbs flashing and he knew that he'd somehow been spotted.

"Head General Joule, is it true that there was a scuffle at the Swedish Royal Palace and that Plant intelligencers were involved?"

He shielded his eyes from a particularly proximate media hound.

"Is there some kind of decision that will be made? Is there some conspiracy?"

"No comment." He barked.

"We hear that the Orb Princess has been found-,"

"Sir- sir- this way," His bodyguards were trying to clear a path for him. "Officer Hahnenfuss- here-,"

Around him, the reporters were swarming relentlessly and he could identify various stations from every country he could think of. Some mother had gone and leaked something to the press about the incident and even his arrival here in Poland.

Shiho tried to take a step forward and another swarm of the buggers moved up to her. The bodyguards were definitely working overtime. She was dressed in civilian clothes too, but being next to him had made it difficult for her not to be recognized.

"Let me through." Yzak said impatiently, shoving one microphone aside. He took away his shades to make it clear how upset he was. But even as his glare became obvious, five more reporters swarmed up to him. The bodyguards around them both were not quite able to keep everyone away.

"Is the intelligencer from Plant?"

The shouts grew louder as the questions grew more explicit.

"Is it true that Athrun Zala appeared again? Is he a spy for Plant?"

Yzak was highly frustrated. He'd made plans to come here without having any media attention, based on his instructions by the Supreme Council of Plant. And despite his best efforts and his choice of a dark suit rather than his customary white uniform, he'd still ended up being spotted by the media just an hour after the shuttle had touched the landing grounds. Even Shiho was not spared.

"Did he appear and was he involved?"

"Sir, would you tell us whether your fiancée is involved-,"

He looked to his side as Shiho stood there warily, trying to move forward with him. But she was blocked by the microphones shoved under her nose, and her hand in his was tense. Her eyes were wide, and her gait was a frightened cat's behind her shades. If she'd had a tail and ears, those would have been tense with anger and displacement. Unlike him, she had never been under the spotlight much and she certainly was not in a position to know how to deal with the media.

"Let her through." He said coldly. "My fiancée and I have no liberty to disclose such information."

"Sir! Sir! Is she an intelligencer from Plant-,"

"Did Lady Joule plan for you to become the Head of the Intelligence Council in Zaft and-,"

The questions were getting through the thick wall he'd tried to put around himself, and Yzak knew it was a matter of minutes before he started roaring. The danger bells were going off in his head and he bit back a lovely flower chain of curses in the nick of time.

Shiho was here and it wouldn't do to behave badly in her presence- no matter how frustrated he was from being tailed by the media in Plant all the way here for the past few days.

And so, he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the hired car. As she got in, he fended off the reporters, blocking their way with every bit of his bulk and mustering a glare that he summoned from the depths of his displeasure.

"What are you waiting for?" Yzak demanded at the driver. "Move!"

Without further hesitation, the car zoomed forward and Shiho lurched a little but righted herself, pulling on the seatbelts while the two of them fought to catch their breath. As far as the instructions had went, Yzak would arrive at Warsaw in an hour's time.

"Sorry about that." Yzak apologized gruffly. He looked at her as she leaned back, her suit rumpled from the reporters grabbing at her arms. She was panting slightly and she looked almost disconcerted. Of course, he couldn't quite tell because she was wearing shades, but he understood her well enough.

"Are you alright?" He asked uncomfortably. He never knew what to do when he felt concerned for his wife-to-be, especially since he was used to fighting mad battles with her by his side. Despite how strong-willed and competent Shiho Hahnenfuss was, she'd been imposed on him like a responsibility, and Yzak would have reacted adversely to that if he disliked her at all. But knowing Ezalia Joule, even reacting adversely wouldn't have prevented the eventual and upcoming marriage between her son and his subordinate.

She nodded. As usual, Shiho had pushed her way through without even having to say a word- an aspect of her character that Yzak was infinitely grateful for in the face of aggressive media dogs.

As she pulled off her shades, revealing her expression like him, he told her, "I'll have to ask which bugger leaked it to the press when I have the time."

She was silent, but her gaze was steady enough.

"You shouldn't have come." He said regretfully. "It will be a hellhole in a few days' time, and I'm afraid the media might hound you for information you don't even have. I'm not even sure I should leave you in a hotel- they will probably tail you there. Maybe you should take the shuttle back."

She looked at him quietly and he wondered why she seemed to radiate disapproval when none of this was really anything that he'd been able to control. Her shades were no longer blocking most of her face and expression, and he could see disappointment and some weariness in her violet-grey eyes.

"You know," Yzak said tiredly, "We really shouldn't fight over this."

She said nothing, but her gaze intensified.

"I don't really know what's happening anymore. I can't explain anything to you." He told her with a tiny sigh that shook his inner core.

A few more awkward moments passed between them as the silence grew and the roads bumped by. Yzak wondered if the driver was eavesdropping. Because this was a special car meant to escort important people, the passenger's compartment was sealed off and there was no way of hearing what the passengers were talking about. Of course, the driver had to exercise his professionalism as well, but Yzak didn't trust anybody, especially not when the media was probably willing to pay people to speak.

"I know you have your duty." Shiho said finally. "I don't begrudge you that. But I cannot agree with you forcing me to stay behind in the Plants."

"You could have been mauled by those reporters!" Yzak insisted. He had always made it his policy never to speak to Shiho in this private way except when they were alone. But the situation seemed to call for it, and the driver seemed distant enough. Besides, he wanted to express his disagreement.

"I can handle myself." She said stubbornly. In her mannish coat and severely-knotted hair, she seemed more like an authoritative secretary rather than his fiancée. How strange it was, he thought distractedly, that she appeared like this today. Usually, Shiho kept her hair down and tied only at the ends even while working as a test-pilot and while on duty. Now, in one of their private moments together, she had treated her hair severely and retained far less femininity that Yzak expected- even when his standards were rather skewed by Ezalia's own with her bobbed hair and icy demeanour.

He took a deep breath. "I didn't want to let you onto the shuttle when you appeared and reported for duty. But I didn't have time to handle that."

"I won't get in your way." Shiho told him with a voice that she usually reserved for disobedient trainee-pilots and for cats that disappeared for days. "I am still the Vice-General serving under Kira Yamato, and I will act in that capacity."

Yzak realized that he was thoroughly unhappy about her insistence but kept his harsher thoughts to himself. They really didn't need a tiff over anything.

"I still think you made a mistake by insisting that you come." Yzak repeated. "The media will use that fact against you. He is also under scrutiny now. Besides, you are my fiancée and the hounds will tail you for the days to come."

"I want to be here." Shiho spoke firmly. "If I didn't come, I would have regretted it. Plenty has been going on without my knowledge."

It was not really in her nature to speak up, as Yzak had learnt a long time ago. Yet, she was possibly more bold and courageous than most men, and he admired her for that. Currently though, his fiancée seemed rather unhappy, which made Yzak even more uncomfortable. Her reference to his working overtime at long stretches and his distance from her at points made him squirm, but he bit back his tongue as the car made its way to the interrogation center.

Yzak could only pray that the things would turn out alright. He had received numerous instructions from his superiors and he knew he was burdened with more than that currently. There was only so much his superiors could do to him- cut his pay maybe, demote him at worst- or hopefully, let him off with a warning if he screwed anything up.

On the other hand, there was the highest authority he had to report to. He snuck a look at Shiho, who'd replaced her shades and thus hidden her expression. Yzak felt a dart of worry stab at him. No. It would not do to disobey the highest possible authority he had known in his life.

After all, Ezalia Joule had warned him, "Piss her off and you piss me off."

And as they all knew, when Ezalia Joule was pissed off, it was generally not a good thing.

Yzak sighed inwardly and picked up the car's internal phone. For today, he decided, he would have to ignore his mother's warnings and Shiho's insistence that she follow him.

"Driver," He requested. "Please drop Officer Hahnenfuss off at the hotel."

She said nothing, but he could feel her displeasure radiate from where she sat.

---

As Cagalli took a bath, Marlin took the opportunity to go through his files once more.

He stared at the two guns in question. Surely, it was no coincidence that both guns were of the exact same model. The one with Cagalli's prints had been found in the room, whereas the other must have been Athrun Zala's own gun.

But of all that he had managed to get Cagalli to say, nothing quite explained why the gun had Athrun Zala's prints on it. She had told him when he had asked, that she didn't really know Athrun Zala. He had been a comrade at best, and a distant acquaintance because of Kira. Moreover, no matter how Marlin tried to theorize, she simply did not know where her place of captivity had been or the names of her kidnappers. She had been highly insistent that those were the Danish terrorists, but other than that, she did not know anything.

Furthermore, she had somehow found her way out of the room she'd been kept in for all this time, as she'd claimed, and then found some passageway that led her to a yacht that Cagalli had then used to get to the Swedish palace. It must have been her captors' carelessness, Marlin mused, given that they'd left a knife and gun in the yacht and had not programmed the yacht to have security features disabling other users from taking control of it.

"James?"

He looked up as she exited from the bathroom, her hair damp and a towel around her shoulders.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Much." She nodded.

Now, he got up and moved to her side, looking carefully at Cagalli. In her rather unflattering white hospital gown, she looked more fragile than she really was, and he wondered how anyone could have doubted her strengths.

"What is it?" Cagalli flinched as his gaze remained steady.

"I'm sorry to ask you again." He said heavily. "But I must confirm this."

"I've already told you." Cagalli repeated. "I don't know where I was and who took me from the yacht. I was shot at that time, and I was unconscious."

It seemed quite reasonable at first blush. But at the same time, Marlin found himself doubting whether Cagalli was telling him the entire truth. Truthfully, Marlin was doubly sure now that Athrun Zala was her captor and that he had convinced Cagalli into escaping from her place of captivity and going to the palace. While Marlin had no proof of this, especially since Cagalli maintained that she did not know who her captive was, Marlin had a hunch that it was Athrun Zala working with the terrorists.

After all, the Plant Intelligence Council had admitted that they had been using Athrun Zala, amongst many others as Intelligencers, and that Athrun Zala had been the one to bring Cagalli Yula Atha to safety on the night that the SS Rafael had been attacked. Beyond that though, the Intelligence Council did not know or take responsibility for what Athrun Zala had done and what he'd successfully conspired and carried out with the Danish Nationalists.

Marlin though, was very sure that Athrun Zala had somehow misled Cagalli into thinking that Harraldsson had been her captor and that he was trying to harm Kira.

Disorientated, she had quarreled with Pietre Harraldsson and probably struggled with him at one point or another.

"James," She spoke up suddenly. "You've been keeping quiet for really long."

"Sorry." He muttered. "Just thinking."

Gazing at Cagalli's injuries and thinking about how battered Harraldsson was, Marlin was inclined to believe that she had attacked Harraldsson first. It was quite probable that at that point, the terrorists had entered the palace and begun fighting with the guards on duty. Within that time, Athrun Zala had entered the room while Cagalli had been fighting with the High King. In her weakened state, Cagalli had probably fainted before even seeing who had entered the room.

"Cagalli," Marlin told her, "Maybe you should rest more."

"No!" Her expression turned obstinate. "I've been sleeping for three hours already. I want you to sit down and tell me what you've been thinking about."

He wondered if he could. "It's nothing much, really."

As Marlin understood it, Athrun Zala had probably picked up the gun that Cagalli had taken with her, thus placing his prints on it, and firing point blank at Harraldsson's chest. He'd then shot a few more times for good measure and then thrown the gun aside, since it had already served its purpose. To make Cagalli seem like she had shot Harraldsson, he'd broken her arm and injured her, and then left, hoping to escape while a scuffle was distracting everyone else.

However, Athrun Zala had been confronted by Kira Yamato, who'd received a tip-off from his own sister that she would be in Sweden. Kira had tried to stop Athrun Zala from leaving, but Athrun Zala had gotten ahold of Kira's gun, thus imprinting the third gun, and using it on the guards who had been rushing up the stairs.

At that point, the Intelligencers had arrived after tracking down where their colleague had been, and they had used a smokescreen to stop the fighting. After that, all those present had been taken into custody and Harraldsson had been brought to a hospital. However, he had been too late and he was in a vegetative state now. His state was mourning and there was an outcry from all the countries involved.

It was strange, Marlin thought to himself, that Cagalli was so against Harraldsson and so convinced that he had tried to kill her. Even before she had fallen asleep, she had been muttering to herself that she would prove that Harraldsson was guilty of so many things.

But how, Marlin wondered, was one to prove that when a man was already in a comatose state? There was nothing she could produce to show that he had planned her kidnapping. Nor could she name a witness who had heard the purported things that Harraldsson had said to her in the room where they'd both been injured. Beyond that, the world's understanding of Harraldsson was that he had slaved endlessly to promote goodwill between Coordinators and Naturals.

As he gazed at Cagalli, watching her wait expectantly, he wondered if she had been under some kind of spell that she was waking to and finding herself unable to accept. Cagalli had been rather agitated for these few days and nothing he did could make her feel secure, even if she seemed to grow stronger as time passed.

Surely, Harraldsson couldn't be the person that she'd painted him to be, given all his efforts to carry on his brother-in-law's work with maintaining peace between Coordinators and Naturals?

Marlin shook his head, getting up to make tea for both of them. Cagalli had been misled, to say the least.

"With Aaron's testimony," He thought to himself, "You'll be free again."

---

In the same country, in the same town, in the same vein, someone had decided the exact opposite.

In the hotel that she was putting up at in Poland, Lacus was trying to prevent Shinn from marching out and offering a testimony to the officials.

"It's not right." Shinn breathed. His eyes were narrowed and those glowed crimson in his pale face. "Why should Athrun have to bear the brunt of all those attacks on his person?"

He got up, grabbing a bunch of newspapers that Lacus had shown him. He crumpled those in his fury, crushing those and stamping on them with his feet. The desperation he did this with made Lacus feel justified in her own anger towards those who had written so cruelly about Athrun Zala, a person who was unlike what they'd painted of him.

"He's not a murderer!" Shinn raged. He kicked one crumpled newspaper aside. "It's not been proven that he did it!"

"I know," Lacus said, trying to keep Leon quiet as the baby stirred and began to mewl for attention.

"He's just- he just made some bad decisions, that's all!"

And Shinn grabbed the remaining papers, crumpling them entirely and tossing them into a bin. "I don't want to see any of these, Lacus. These are not the truth, these are just colourful rumours that hide the truth-,"

"I think you need to calm down, Shinn." She pleaded. With Leon in her arms, she looked at him helplessly, but he seemed to grow taller and firmer.

"I'm going to the officials now!" Shinn exclaimed.

He turned away but Lacus called out to him.

"What is it?" His expression was impatient. "Don't tell me not to go, Lacus, you know I can stop whatever that's happening to him!"

"No, Shinn." Lacus was nearly in tears from her pent-up frustration and worry for her husband, Athrun and Cagalli. The officials had been in this room for two whole days before today, and she had given her testimony over and over again, trying her best to ignore their skeptical faces and mocking smiles.

He backed away as she reached out to him, shaking his head. "I need to tell them that Athrun Zala could not have harmed Cagalli- not with how much he's sacrificed for her. He loves her- he didn't harm her!"

She thought of the letters and the way Cagalli had reappeared and how Athrun had been found in the Swedish palace. As she had always found herself doing in the most complicated situations, the pieces she had in front of her began arranging themselves in her head and she saw what could only be the truth.

"I need to tell them Athrun didn't harm her." Shinn repeated, almost stubbornly.

"But if you do," Lacus said sadly, "She will be."

She gazed at Shinn's face and her child, as if sensing her distress, began to cry. Shinn looked at the door, looked back at the child, glanced at Lacus, then sat down, as if drained of every ounce of vitality he had through living and learning itself.

---

"I want to know why he's still being held in interrogation." Kira demanded, moving down the hallway quickly. There was someone who was wheeled past him- someone in need of the emergency operation room. Some nurses and doctors were muttering in rapid-fire Polish that Kira understood little of.

At the same time, there were a few patients wandering around the corridors with different parts of their faces bandaged. It was very harrowing to see.

Aaron was in a state of helplessness. "I can't do anything- they refuse to let him out. The Galactic Court is still deciding whether they should or they shouldn't."

A willowy woman strutted past both of them as they turned into a corridor. She would have been attractive if most of her face wasn't concealed by bandages. Neither Kira nor Aaron took much notice of her though.

"Then what about Orb's authority?"

Aaron cast his eyes down, as if ashamed to be repeating instructions that he did not believe in. He quickened his pace to keep up with Kira. "You and I are currently suspects, Kira. I don't think your authority is associated with Orb's at this point- or mine, for that matter."

Kira's eyes darkened. "Poland has no right to hold him day and night in the interrogation room. I don't care if they have priority and the key authority over the person that the Galactic Courts have accused of being a terrorist- they can't keep him in there all day and night without going against his rights!"

"Shh-," Aaron hushed him immediately. "We're nearing her room."

Kira fell silent as they stepped in. Cagalli however, was not asleep but sitting up in bed, her arm in a cast, her eyes trained on files she was going through at a very hurried, almost panicky rate. As her confidante and twin entered, Cagalli's eyes flew up and she put away the file hastily and said almost accusingly, "I didn't know you were coming!"

She had guilt written everywhere on her face, and Kira's instinctive thought was that she would not survive more than half an hour in a courtroom. There was only so much her will could take.

"How are you feeling?" Aaron inquired, setting down a basket of fruits next to another one that she'd barely touched. He shuffled around, looking for a bowl that he could use.

"I'm fine." She said with a touch of negligence and even regret in her voice- as if she'd failed to do something and cared more about it than her health. She looked thin and even malnourished in the oversized hospital gown, and her hair had lost the luster Kira had hoped to see. And yet, there was rebelliousness in her eyes, and her hands were noticeably faraway from what they'd been busy rifling through just minutes before Kira had entered.

And casting his eye around and spotting the obvious absence, Kira surmised what Cagalli had been up to. Marlin was nowhere in sight, and Kira supposed he'd either left to check up on something or was doing something for Cagalli.

By the looks of it and Cagalli's startled countenance, she'd tricked him into leaving the room with the files for her to read. Frankly, Kira did not have to look through those to know what was inside.

"Where is he?" Cagalli demanded, knowing that it was pointless to deny what she'd been trying to find out. She looked ready to leap out of bed, and Kira thought it was best if he occupied the seat next to her should she try that.

In any case he stalled for time, wondering how to phrase it. How could he phrase something that included Athrun being in a place where information was probably being beaten out of him, against his will and to his disadvantage?

"Well?" Cagalli said sharply.

"Still in the jail." Kira knew it was equally pointless to hide it from her. "Poland wants a piece of this too- they want to make sure that the place the Galactic Courts have chosen for proceedings is secure from what they deem as a likely international terrorist. They have priority to questioning him- he is in their territory, after all."

"What are they doing with him?" Cagalli's eyes flashed.

"The investigation is still going on." Kira found no further reason to conceal anything from her. "The authorities include Plant's Intelligence Council's representative, the Galactic Court's lead prosecutor. Poland's internal security agents are also helping with the investigation."

"Haven't they finished asking him questions?" Cagalli seemed as if she was taking stock of everything in her head, for a tiny wrinkle was appearing between her eyes and she was sitting stiffly. "And shouldn't there be a defense attorney in there?"

"No." Aaron spoke up. "He refused to hire one."

"Well, surely there's a default one?" Cagalli asked.

"He refused it. He will be the accused in person." Kira informed her.

Cagalli drew in a breath. "Well, then the Galactic Courts and Poland don't need anything more from him! What's he doing there still?"

"He's not been very forthcoming." Aaron said hesitantly.

"What has he told them?"

"Nothing much." Aaron admitted. "He's suspected to be the terrorist leader, as you know. Plant is not extending the immunity or the defense they are giving to the other intelligencers. All he's said so far are basically confirmations of the events that happened after Kira here found you on the landing of the main staircase with him. Nothing that could really incriminate him, although his silence is currently bad enough."

Kira held his tone steady. "The questioning is still going on."

"You mean interrogation." Cagalli said sharply. Her eyes narrowed at her brother now. "Get him out of there, Kira. I'd do it myself if I could, but I can't."

He stared at her, realizing that her will was so strong it was giving her the strength to sit up. She'd clearly been supposed to rest, but the physical discomfort seemed to deter her only a little.

But his reluctance spoke louder than her efforts. "I can't, Cagalli. Not that I didn't try even before you asked. It's just impossible at this stage. I can't do it, nor can Aaron."

"Must I really get out of there and go to the quarters myself?" Cagalli said fiercely.

"No," Aaron almost squeaked. He tried to push her back onto the pillows, fluffing those up with quick, deft hands that were used to caring for his friend. "Goddamit, Cagalli, you need to rest!"

"I'm rested." She said stubbornly. "I'm well now. I've been sleeping far too much- I've already told the doctor to stop giving me that sleep-inducing medicine. I'm all fine now."

"No, you're not." Another voice said.

All three pairs of eyes focused to Marlin as he moved into the room, carrying a whole load of things that Cagalli had asked him to get.

As Kira stared at those, he realized that Cagalli had asked for these only to buy herself time- unless she really felt like playing crossword puzzles and eating orange-cream donuts at this point.

Moreover, there were specific food items that must have taken Marlin quite some time and effort to get. There were food items that Kira couldn't imagine anyone eating at this point, unless the person happened to like steaming hot chilli kebabs while suffering from a serious arm injury.

Beyond that, the nearest kebab-selling shop was certainly a specialty one. Poland generally did not feature kebabs on the menu, and no respectable hospital canteen would ever prepare the calorie-crazy choice that Cagalli had asked Marlin to find for her.

"Here's your kebab." Marlin passed a steaming packet to her. "I had to hire a taxi to get it."

She took it with her unharmed hand, and then unwrapped it gingerly.

The men in the room waited expectantly.

Glancing at their concerned faces, she smiled weakly and attempted a nibble at it. The steaming roll with the meat and the lettuce and sauce within it looked almost feeble in her weak, pale hand. "It's nice. Thanks."

And promptly, she put it away. Marlin's eyes lingered on her, then at the discarded food, and then he sat down with a sigh. The pile of things he'd put next to her seemed as woebegone as him. "I thought you'd be more hungry than that, Cagalli. You begged me to get kebabs for you."

"Sorry." Cagalli said in a small voice. "I guess I just- just lost my appetite."

Kira couldn't help feeling sorry for Marlin. He watched as Marlin smiled a little at his twin. It was a wan but heartfelt smile that must have touched Cagalli as it touched Kira, for Cagalli reached forward to pat Marlin's hand.

"I'm sorry." She repeated, almost as if she was apologizing for what everyone in the room knew she'd done while Marlin had been away.

"It's fine." Marlin said gently.

Here was reputedly one of the slyest dogs in the politician world and one of the few men that Cagalli actually liked working with. For all of Marlin's cleverness, Kira noted, Marlin was rather oblivious to Cagalli's intent and what she must have done while he was finding the elusive kebab.

James Marlin was a mild, sweet kitten next to his twin, Kira marveled. How strange affection could be, and how powerful it was- powerful enough for a person to rush off to achieve something at one's request.

And Kira knew why. Marlin hadn't entertained second thoughts or perhaps the slightest suspicion about going out of the room and leaving all his materials there, simply because it had been Cagalli asking him to do something for her.

And Kira frowned unconsciously, thinking of Marlin's request that Kira had acceded to rather reluctantly. Kira though, was clear of what he had given Marlin the green light. He had given Marlin a right to try and make Cagalli trust him and be happy, only because Kira wanted Cagalli to learn to live again. He had not promised Marlin that Cagalli would accept Marlin after she returned, just because Kira had no objections to Marlin's affections.

Thinking back about the haunted expression in Athrun's eyes, Kira realized that it was unlikely that Marlin would see the issue from his point of view.

In the meantime, Cagalli was making preparations to move.

"Marlin," Cagalli said impatiently, "I want to get out of here. "

"The doctor says no." He looked at her firmly.

"Screw the doctor." She said obstinately. Her eyes were narrowed, and for a minute, she looked as if she had never been lying in bed, weak and unconscious for her ordeal. "I'm calling the shots right now. I've got work to do and things to find out."

"Even so," Aaron said plaintively, "You're a suspect and you won't be able to see Athrun. The detention center that he hasn't given any information or updates about him since he was put there."

"That's ridiculous!" Cagalli cried. "I want to see him! I need to speak to him and ask what happened that day!"

"No." Kira said brusquely. For a moment, his heart had leapt and he'd thought of the time when he'd first met a girl he'd never suspected to be his twin. Her spirit now was that indomitable one that he had been so drawn too, and yet he had to turn away from that. What a pity, Kira thought to himself.

"Kira!" Cagalli looked at him beseechingly. "You understand me, don't you? Of everyone, you'd have to, please-,"

He felt his throat constricting. He thought of the expression Athrun's face had held when Kira had threatened to kill him personally. That expression was not a familiar one to Kira even as Athrun had told Kira that Kira had every right to kill him. It had no regret or repressed anger that Kira would have been more likely to predict. Athrun's expression had held only acceptance and a mild, slightly numbed pain in it.

Kira didn't know what was going on, but he could infer enough from that single confession and expression that Athrun cared for Cagalli still. As with James Marlin and Aaron Biliensky, he could sense that the men in Cagalli's life must have loved her in vastly different ways, despite their common intent to help her make decisions in her best interests.

"I don't think you should let her go, Kira." Marlin told him.

Kira looked at him and understood, even if this wasn't the first time that Kira was forced to take stock of Marlin's situation. The truth of the matter was that Marlin saw her and loved her as a woman. How strange love was, and how blindly possessive it could be! Even when Marlin was not aware of the true nature of the past that Athrun and Cagalli had shared, Kira knew that Marlin instinctively wanted to keep Cagalli within his sight.

Perhaps, Kira realized, Marlin could even sense that letting Cagalli see her captive would cause implications that Marlin was instinctively uneasy about. With regards to what he could discern, Kira was sure that Marlin was unconsciously mistrustful of the man whom she was fighting to protect- even senselessly, as Marlin had remarked to Kira.

"Aaron," Marlin said strongly, "Tell her that she needs to stay here."

"That's right," Aaron chimed in. "You're still too weak to get out of bed."

Aaron viewed her as his close friend and cared for her thus. Kira knew that of all her colleagues, Aaron was far more than that and a steadfast presence in her life- perhaps even more so than Kira after his fallout with Cagalli.

Studying the other two men, Kira was able to appreciate their feelings for her. Simultaneously, the fervor of their concern made him examine his own considerations, and his own told him that he would not allow her to risk more than she needed when he'd only just gotten her back.

Aloud, Kira told her, "I think you should stay here. He's not going to be able to see you."

Privately, he was afraid of what Cagalli's reaction would be if she did get a chance to meet Athrun.

"Aaron?" She wheedled, turning her eyes to her aide.

"Sorry." He whispered. "It's as Kira said."

"Marlin," Cagalli tried, "Surely you can bring me there for just a few hours?"

But Marlin only shook his head, patting her hand in a consolatory manner. "Don't worry about Athrun Zala so much. I've already done as you requested and remained the Galactic Court that having a defense attorney for him would make the proceedings more efficient."

Her expression became hopeful. "What did he say?"

"He refused it still." Marlin told her. He tsked. "I have no idea why you need to care so much about the person who helps my case theory to get you acquitted."

Cagalli faltered, repeating what she'd told Marlin when he'd asked her who Athrun Zala was to her. "He was Kira's friend once-,"

"Even Kira here doesn't think he's the same person." Marlin told her sharply.

Kira exchanged a glance with him that Cagalli did not miss. Miserably, she looked back at all of them, wondering if she was making a mistake by continuing to conceal the true nature of her relationship with Athrun.

When Marlin had asked her who Athrun Zala was to her, Cagalli had told him that they were once friends. But she hadn't been brave enough to tell anyone that Athrun meant so much more to her than that, and she knew she was afraid of that especially since Kira was here. Kira would never approve of what she'd put Athrun through, and Cagalli could not face how angry Kira would be if she told him what had transpired all this time.

No, Cagalli decided, looking at Kira. Now wasn't the time. She'd only just reunited with her twin after all this time- she couldn't tell him and let him think she had purposely manipulated Athrun yet again. Kira would become distant from her again.

"Anyway," Marlin was saying, "You need to rest."

Even until now, Marlin didn't think much of her past friendship with Athrun Zala. After all, she'd described the acquaintance as being rather brief, with Kira being the main bridge between her and the man who'd become her captive those years later. And that was precisely why Marlin was going ahead with the argument he would use to have her acquitted.

And yet-

"I want to see him." Cagalli said brokenly. "I need to ask him why it turned out like this."

"Don't worry," Aaron said soothingly, quite mistaking her desperation. "I will get the answers for you, Cagalli. You shouldn't have to trouble yourself asking him for information that will be extracted from all his lies."

Kira looked uneasy, but he said nothing. Moreover, Marlin nodded in response to what Aaron had uttered. There was nothing Cagalli could do, and she gazed at the three men who stood around her bed, their collective efforts pinning her there.

She thought of the maids who'd done everything they could for her. All her life, there had been the people who'd crowded around her, giving her what they thought was best for her. They'd tried to make sure she could not ask for anything that she didn't already have- and they thought that what she wanted that they could not give was not good for her anyway.

For the first time in her life, she wondered if the people she trusted the most were the same people that were too concerned for her- too protective of her; the same people who did not trust her enough.

And Cagalli turned her face away, flopping back on the bed; pulling the covers over her, afraid that they would see the dismay on her face.

---

Three hours later, Cagalli was on her way.

She got ready within minutes, taking a few things as well as an apple she could eat if she felt peckish later. Peeking out of the rather spacious hospital suite that she had been put into, she noticed a doctor bustling by with two nurses scurrying after him, all of them jabbering in Polish that she understood little of. But she waited until the coast was clear, then moved out at a fast pace, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.

Taking the lift down proved more difficult than she had realised, for a few people joined her along the way down. She had never thought of the lift-ride as a particularly traumatic experience, but she found her heart beating erratically as people got in and out, some staring at her for too long but then turning away at the last minute, and a nurse speaking into the walkie-talkie and being so flustered that she scarcely noticed who was in the lift.

Once she moved out of the main entrance, Cagalli quickened her pace. She walked behind a delivery man who was carrying a huge bouquet of flowers and scuttled out.

As she slipped into the taxi that she'd hailed right outside the hospital, Cagalli was glad that Marlin had left a cap and a jacket in her room. With her hair firmly held beneath the cap and her clothes loose, comfortable at the expense of general neatness and arguably even ill-fitting, she looked the part of a normal person. Well, almost normal.

"Remand centre."

"How'd you get your arm like that?" The driver gaped, turning around. "Were you a patient or visitor at that hospital?"

Well, at least he spoke her language.

"I wasn't a visitor."

"Then what about that mummy-arm?"

"Accident." She muttered, trying to get used to the man staring at her sling and bandaged arm as well as the strangely permeating smell of a thousand passengers who'd been in her exact spot.

"You're with the press right?"

She made no comment, not sure what to say. But the taxi driver filled the silence for her.

"You poor sod." He said blearily, beginning to push his vehicle forward as it crawled through the maze of other taxis. "Media dogs always get smashed by bodyguards."

"How did you know I was a reporter?" Cagalli asked, curious to see how he'd arrived at that conclusion. Weren't reporters usually quite sharply dressed in suits and all? Or was he assuming that she was only a cameraman or something?

"That bag." He pointed out, beginning to steer. There was a long queue of taxis and he was just one of those. "It looks like it's got your equipment in it. Your clothing too."

Cagalli found there was pure irony in that he thought she was a reporter in her dingy garb and oversized bag. It wasn't hers, actually. She'd borrowed or snitched it if you like- from one of the doctors who'd left it in an adjoining room. It smelt strongly of medicine, but it was good enough for her to hide her face if need be.

"And that beat-up arm of course." He added.

"Right." Cagalli wondered if the celebrities here regularly set their bodyguards on the reporters.

"So you wanted to go to the remand centre, was it?" The taxi driver clarified. His Spanish accent was very strong, but she could understand him still.

"Yes." She assured him.

"Bad traffic." He complained, pointing to the ticking meter. He didn't sound too sorry about it.

"It's fine." Cagalli said distractedly. "Just try your best and get me there as soon as possible."

"Alright, Mister."

Her jaw fell open, but his eyes were too busy on the cars and road ahead to realize anything abnormal. There was snow shoveled along the sides of the roads and the air was chilly even in the car.

As he managed to clear his way out to get to the right lane, she glanced into the review mirror and saw that Marlin was rushing back into the hospital building. He certainly hadn't seen her- he was too preoccupied with a paper bag in his hands.

Besides, Cagalli thought, he would never spot which taxi had picked her up. Of course though, he would get back to the room and probably know where she was headed with his cap, jacket, and some money she'd snitched from his wallet when he'd been out buying another kebab. It was a matter of time.

"Sorry, Marlin." She muttered to herself. But she focused on the road ahead.

"Hey, Mister," The taxi driver was saying, "Did you hear about the recent case?"

She kept her face lowered, the cap's end still shading her face. For once, she was glad that the taxi driver was not looking at her properly and had assumed she was a man in these clothes and with her hair all pushed back. She was still taken aback that this person thought she was male, but at this point, she would save her complaints.

"R-Recent case?"

"You ever heard of Athrun Zala, Mister?"

"Uh-," She licked her lips nervously. Why was everybody asking her about this these days? Did she have the words 'I know Athrun Zala personally and in more ways than you would care to imagine' stamped across her forehead? Why was she supposed to know, when it was this complete stranger asking?

The taxi driver took her silence as a green light from his passenger. Sadly enough, it was a red light on the roads.

"Y'know the guy from the Plants? Rumour was that he was involved in some conspiracy that killed the then-Prime Minister in Orb. But then he disappeared, remember? Apparently he wanted the Prime Minister's job because he wasn't advancing fast enough in the Orb Army."

"Is that right?" Cagalli said nervously.

The cabbie snorted with laughter, showing yellowed teeth Cagalli immediately connected with cigarettes. "There was that, and the Orb Prime Minister used to work under his old man, but denounced him before the First War and ran off to Orb to make it good there. Guess Zala junior wanted to make a statement or two by going to Orb. You heard about that before?"

"Well- a bit. Heard of him." Her voice was low because she was speaking softly, to keep the taxi driver from suspecting that she was female. "How do you know all this anyway?"

"From me reporter passengers, Mister. Like you. They want a word outta him too."

"I see."

"The normal person usually don't know no much, but me-," He boasted, jabbing a finger in the direction of himself. "I get all the reporter passengers. I should know better. They can't publish anything, but that don't mean they can't talk about it."

"Right." Cagalli was all too aware of how even the strictest laws regulating the media would never be able to hold fire with its paper grip. Marlin had reminded her of that too, and she'd been forced to admit that she agreed with what he was setting out.

The most recent information that Marlin had given her was that Athrun Zala could not be in more trouble than he was at this point. In addition to Zaft and Plant's adamant refusal to recognize him as their intelligencer at this point, the companies he had controlled with an alias were involved in drug experiments and weapon production.

When Cagalli had insisted that it was to buy the terrorists' trust, namely Greyfriars', Marlin had looked at her calmly and informed her that there was no such person.

"Unless you mean he went by a second alias. It could be that he's Greyfriars- the same person who his former colleagues identified as the terrorist leader." Marlin had hypothesized.

"No!" Cagalli had exclaimed. She had still been trying to absorb the idea of Athrun not just working alone but being a single cog in an entire system of intelligencers who worked for Zaft and Plant on the Isle. "No way!"

But try as she did to think things through, the fact remained that there was no such person that the terrorists in questioning had admitted to knowing. All of them had repeatedly pledged their allegiance to Rune Estragon even during interrogation.

It was all a matter of time before Athrun's past was laid out like a carcass for the crows to get at, and that was why Cagalli had to see him and stop it first.

"I heard he suddenly appeared again. In Scandinavia."

"Oh." She said absently.

"He's at the remand center you want to visit. But then, that's why you want to go there right?"

"I- I - yes." Cagalli wondered if she was as shamefaced as she felt.

"I've been sending loads of reporters around these days- so I knew it when I saw you with your broken arm." The driver was chattering incessantly.

"Oh." Cagalli fumbled a little with her bag. "Uh- you mean the media can interview him?"

"Hmm- don't know about that. Come to think of it, I'm not sure he's really there. Heard rumours though." His eyes flicked back to her. "Hey, did you go to the hospital to see if the rumours were true?"

"What rumours?"

"You know Cagalli Yula Atha's been found right?"

"A-Ah-,"

"I heard she's in that hospital you came from. Did you know that?"

"O-Of course! I went there to try and interview her."

"So how did it go?" The taxi driver asked enthusiastically. "Did you see her? Me and my girl, we're really interested in knowing where she went. Such an important person! How could she just go missing like that?"

"No luck." Cagalli cleared her throat awkwardly, avoiding his gaze in the review mirror. "Didn't see her."

The cabbie's shoulders sagged. Behind him, someone honked for him to speed up.

"I shoulda expected that." He said disappointedly, stepping down as the car shot forward. "Bet the security in that hospital's real tight- all the stars go there when they want to do face-jobs and all."

"Oh." Cagalli knew better.

"Anyway, I hope you get your luck with Athrun Zala."

"Thanks." She found herself hoping so too. She'd forced Aaron to tell her the exact location of the remand centre, and hopefully, Marlin would not realize that and prevent her from doing what she had to.

"If he's there mister, he can't have run off. I don't think anyone can afford the bail these days with that place. Come to think of it, the option of bail wasn't even allowed for him."

"Is that right?" She tried to go on with the conversation, afraid that if she stopped, the taxi driver would get suspicious.

"He's a crazy-pot, that one." He made a right turn that felt like something had punched her stomach somewhat. She gasped, trying to sit properly lest she was flung against the side of the car where her injured arm would take the brunt.

"Crazy," He repeated.

"Crazy." She said unsurely.

"He's killed before you know."

"But that's his job as a soldier." She defended Athrun.

The taxi-driver snorted. "Yeah. And it's my job to pick flowers."

Despite her failure to see his logic, he continued, and she was forced to listen and respond.

The agony continued on for about forty-five more minutes. By the time he dropped her off, Athrun Zala was equivalent to a devil-worshipper who didn't believe in the Almighty God and who had convinced his father to do what his father had done. Moreover, Athrun Zala was definitely Devil's spawn who had the power to teleport and to vanish, and he had always been a genius who wanted to kill the American President and the Orb Princess. Athrun Zala had drank human blood before and controlled the underground thugs all over the world.

"It's true you know." The man said insistently.

The scary thing, Cagalli realized, was that everything had a grain of truth about it. Harumi was involved in this, and there was no denying that she must have helped Athrun at one point or another for Ko's sake.

Besides, Athrun was the son of a person that drew that distinct disdain, hatred or worse, pity when Patrick Zala's name was mentioned. That he was alive seemed to certify his existence as being a punching bag or a whipping boy for his father. He had his own sins too, but Patrick Zala's seemed to be his.

It wasn't fair, Cagalli thought desperately. It wasn't fair for him to be forced to live for fear that others would say his death was proof of his father's guilt, nor was it fair for him to live his life in the shadow of so many things of the past. He still did, even now. He knew that he didn't have to, but he couldn't help wanting to right the wrongs and to hold his head high once more. Even if that meant doing wrong things when the means justified the end. She could accept that if he did- she would, since he had.

She believed in Athrun Zala. She wanted to.

And for that exact reason, Cagalli was very glad to pay the taxi-driver and get out of the car. She tipped him generously, mostly because he seemed to take a very long time to get the change. She watched as he tipped an imaginary cap and smiled that little rat-smile again.

The zone was very noisy and there were loads of other cars or taxis. A great deal of people were rushing here and there and yet they were not moving beyond a certain line. As the taxis seemed to be moving off and many people seemed to be flooding around, Cagalli understood why her driver had assumed she was a reporter from the very mention of her destination.

The reporters were gathered outside in an outpouring of excitement and almpost grotesque fascination at the people held in the jail.

As her own taxi dropped her off, she realized she was alone in the car-waiting zone. Not alone per se, but entirely isolated and absolutely removed from all those who were begging to be let in. Those people held cameras, microphones- the whole gamut that they would try to blow up things with. The main entrance was a few metres away, but she suddenly felt like it was quite distance from where she'd been dropped off.

She watched as the crowd tried moving closer, but the guards at the main entrance carried guns and she knew what they were afraid of. It was true. Power did come from the barrel of a gun.

And as Cagalli neared the main entrance and found herself embroiled within the crowds already present, she looked at the faces of the guards and felt a shudder move up her spine. It wasn't that they were beefy and very threatening like all guards tended to be. It was simply that she had experienced rather unpleasant things where guards were involved. She joined the crowd, making sure her arm was kept away from the main jostling lines.

Simultaneously, she held herself firm and told herself that it was not the time to get panicky and all afraid with what had happened before and was unlikely to now. One reporter marched up to the guards, expressing hopes of also being let in.

That particular reporter made his request to enter and she as well as the other reporters watched. "I'm here to visit."

"No visits." The guard told him with a growly sort of voice. Listening along with the other reporters, Cagalli was forcibly reminded of a bear. "This is a no-visiting jail." He jabbed a thick finger at the barbed wire fence.

"I'm a reporter." The man said boldly. The guard looked at him as if he was insulted by her comment, and Cagalli realized immediately that if no visitors were allowed, no reporters would be either. It was the most obvious thing.

"Yeah, you'll be the tenth one I've turned away today." The other guard told the brave soul. "Scram, all of you. I don't care where you come from. No media allowed here. Get out before we have to forcibly remove you, all of you."

Watching from where she was, Cagalli grimaced, wondering if she would have to reveal who she was before they let her in. But then, they were unlikely to let her in if they knew who she was- even more unlikely than if she told them she was a reporter. There was a growing wall of grumbling and sounds of discontent, and she bit her lips, trying not to get bumped and trying to protect her arm as some shoved around.

"That's not fair," One tried to argue with the guards. "Why shouldn't the public know what's going on?"

The guard did not bother to argue back with him, for behind them, a car pulled up, and all of them turned to see another two cars pull up. Men in crisp suits sprang out of later two cars and formed neat lines, one of them opening the door of the remaining car. The reporters were forced to scramble like fish diving out of the way of the net, and the suit-wearing men lost no time. They formed lines blocking the reporters even as the latter group clamoured, their cameras snapping and flashing- momentary diamonds lost in the dust and absorbed by the growing darkness of the short winter afternoon.

Even while the suited men tried to hold back the reporters, a man moved out from the car. As he did, his slim, dark figure seemed to merge in the semi-darkness, but his hair was the unmistakable tint of snow. Finally, as the reporters were pushed back, the suited men saluted to him.

As Cagalli was forced into a path that the other reporters were in too, she squinted to see who had arrived. And as she did, she saw the emblem on the cars and recognized t hat it was the Galactic Court's emblem. She tiptoed, squinting, thus accidentally stepping on someone's foot to see who the new visitor was, and her eyes widened. She would have recognized him even if he'd been wearing a blonde wig.

"Sir!" One man was still in a salute. The reporters were now clamoring to interview the new visitor.

"Stay here." Cagalli heard Yzak Joule command. "I am going in alone. You will guard the car."

"Sir yes sir!"

Clearly, Cagalli noted, Yzak Joule did not put up with his subordinates questioning him.

Some reporters tried to move towards the cars where another person presumably sat behind the tinted windows. But they were shoved away by the bodyguards and Cagalli winced as one shouted an obscenity to the man who was merely doing his duty.

The guards at the main entrance saluted as he flipped open something to show his position. Cagalli did not have to look at it to know that he was reporting as a jury member of the Galactic Courts. Twelve people were put into the jury; three from Plant, three from Orb, and three from the Earth Alliance. He was most certainly going to be one.

As he disappeared through the gates, there was a collective sigh and a heavy air of annoyance and tension, along with disappointment.

Some were discouraged by such a sight and began to leave in their taxis. Some others stayed behind, waiting for Yzak Joule to reappear, Cagalli supposed. Most were leaving, clear that they would not get much luck even if Yzak Joule reappeared. His bodyguards were a grim presence and those articulated his unwillingness to hold interviews.

Most milled around, waiting a bit, talking to their camera crew, some reporters redoing their make-up, some men taking out cigarettes, some others looking through their notes again.

Within an hour, most had left.

In the next hour, there were five people left. The evening was getting colder and a bit of snow was falling. It would probably get heavier soon. Even those with cigarettes did not look warmer.

In the next half an hour, nobody had emerged from the remand centre and those outside grew increasingly discouraged. They left, cursing Yzak Joule for having such tight lips, and the guards for preventing them from entering.

But Cagalli stood her ground.

She would wait.

---

When Yzak finally emerged, Cagalli did not have to look around to know that she was the last one there. She had given up standing and had sat on a bit of concrete pavement, shivering a little and trying to think of warm, cosy blankets and hot drinks.

But even as she watched him emerge, two prison guards behind him and his bodyguards taking over, she understood that he had undergone a difficult time. He was about to replace his shades, and he would have made a beeline for the car.

Yet, she got up, rushing towards him, trying to get past his bodyguards.

"General!" Cagalli called. Her voice was hoarse from the cold and lack of usage, but it rang out surely enough.

He seemed ready to ignore the last reporter but she called out again and he froze, turning around.

As their gaze locked, she saw familiarity spring into his face, and then recognition and finally disbelief. The cap she wore on her head did not matter, nor did the dingy clothing and lack of any clear, recognizable features. He had understood in that second what she was here for.

"Let her go." He barked. "This is the Orb Princess!"

He saluted, his posture immediately stiffer than when he'd exited. She halted, not sure of what to do, looking around her as the men took a step or two back from her. She was all too aware that they thought she could be a suspect. She was all too aware that they did not trust her, as she did not trust them.

"Where are your manners?" Yzak Joule said sharply. His hand was still in the salute, and the bodyguards reluctantly did likewise, looking at her with surprise and some suspicion. "Lady Atha, I am thankful you are safe. You should be resting, not coming here. As both the Head General of Zaft and one of the Jury members, I can pledge that the Galactic Court is doing all it can to find evidence necessary for the trial."

She ignored that sense of queerly reminiscent incongruity and focused on Yzak instead. "Head General, I need your help."

He stared at her for another second, then sprang into action. He grabbed her hand, pulling her to the car, not bothering that the remand centre's guards were staring at both of them. The security and confidentiality of this place was far too strict for anyone to blab that she was here, and the look he shot the guards as he moved suggested that they'd be sorry if they told anything to anyone.

All the same, he shut the car door securely, nodding at her. "It's not safe to speak in this car- or anywhere until I say so. You'll have to wait."

As she tried to settle herself down, shivering and feeling herself warm up once more, she detected a slight lingering scent. A woman had sat in this car- whoever it had been. But those thoughts were frayed and strange, and she shook her head, trying to focus.

Now, Cagalli looked at Yzak. His eyes were guarded and his chin was tilted slightly in that trademark confidence. There was that familiar, cool skepticism about his person and the way he seemed to view world. Presently, he folded his hands with that clear strength about him, and he seemed to radiate disapproval even as the heater emitted its heat. Like Athrun, Cagalli realized, Yzak had taken on most of his physical features from his mother, but both seemed more masculine than any other men she could think of- Yzak with his power and authority, and Athrun with his quiet strength.

"Driver," He said curtly into a speaker he fetched upon having the doors locked, "Bring us to the Vice-General's accommodation."

"Roger, sir."

As he replaced the receiver, she gaze at him, trying to take in an appearance she'd never associated with Yzak Joule. Dressed as a civilian, she realized that he seemed more out of place than if he had walked on the streets in his usual white uniform. The proud tilt of his chin and the discipline of his frame was equally uncommon amongst the reporters and even his bodyguards.

"You shouldn't have come, your Grace." He said softly, as the car sped off. His eyes regarded her steadily, and she faltered under that blue gaze of mistrust and perhaps even slight antagonism.

She found no answer to that, but waited, trying to focus her thoughts and ignore the discomforting silence between them. The car purred to a stop eventually, and he got out, leading her out with an inbred courteousness that suddenly reminded her of Athrun.

And as Cagalli stepped out, coming face to face with him at the entrance of a luxurious-looking hotel, she understood how similar Athrun and Yzak were. Athrun had once mentioned something of Yzak's upbringing to her in the same breath as his own and the other Council members' children, and she now sensed the prestige and nobility of blood running through Yzak Joule's veins.

The hotel was a very large one and heavily guarded. From the looks of it, Cagalli could infer that it was probably tied to some diplomatic entity. As Yzak entered, he had to clear multiple security checks, as did she. In the lift, the silence between them sensed, and she twisted her hands anxiously.

Admittedly, Athrun had been very private with her and had distracted her with his warmth and cavalier traits. He'd made her forget that his family had once been highly respected and was to a certain extent, but Yzak Joule reminded her of what Athrun had once mentioned almost in passing.

None of the Council members' children were common even amongst the most extraordinary of Coordinators.

As they moved into a corridor, Yzak stopped outside one door and knocked. There was a pause as they waited, and then the door swung open to reveal Shiho Hahnenfuss. Dressed simply in casual clothes, Cagalli did not recognize her for a second.

If Cagalli had always been fond of Yzak's longtime subordinate and recently-announced fiancée, she found that she had never been fonder of Shiho at this point. The familiar face and the calm countenance was precisely what Cagalli had needed without realizing it, and without thinking, she threw herself into Shiho's arms, letting Shiho hug her back and then pull her to a chair, bidding her to sit.

As Yzak shut the door and turned around, Cagalli saw his expression soften. He said nothing as Shiho stroked Cagalli's face, but went to fetch some tea and set it out on the table with more finesse than Cagalli had actually expected to see. If Yzak Joule had been something of an imposing authority in her mind, now she realized how tactful he could be.

With that single gesture of pouring tea as his fiancée and Cagalli embraced, Yzak had certified her as a guest of a certain standing but reminded her that with him, she was ultimately not on the same terms she could relate to Shiho with.

While Cagalli could not drink anything, the steam and the scent of leaves made her feel slightly more at ease. Furthermore, Shiho sat by her side, those queerly coloured but very beautiful eyes regarding Cagalli gently in a way that made Cagalli miss Lacus even more.

Shiho said nothing, as was her way, but Cagalli knew how worried she was even now. For that reason, Cagalli found herself feeling more than a little forlorn when Yzak nodded at Shiho and signaled that they should be left alone. Like a child, she clung to Shiho's hands for a second before reluctantly letting go, and she was only marginally placated when Shiho nodded encouragingly at her before leaving to another room.

Yzak studied his fiancee's retreating figure for a second before channeling his gaze to Cagalli. His tone was very hard, and Cagalli wondered why she had expected him to have a private self. He was not like Athrun, she tried to remind herself. Even with Shiho, he was not inclined to put his duty aside at all.

"I'm apologize." Yzak said stiffly, as if reading her thoughts. "Shiho is not part of the Intelligence Council and confidentiality must be accounted for."

"I understand." Cagalli said in a low voice.

"Why were you there today?" Yzak asked directly.

She took in a deep breath, her need to know compelling her to do all that she could there and then. "I have to meet Athrun."

His eyes narrowed. "He has no right to see anyone except those who require information from him for the trial."

"But I have a right to see him." Cagalli argued. "I must see him."

There was a pause, and then Yzak's voice dipped low and dangerous.

"With all due respect, Your Grace," Yzak said softly. "If you were so sure you had a right to see him, why didn't you march through those gates and demand an audience with Athrun Zala?"

She faltered but grasped her answer before he could make the point that Cagalli did not want to accept. "There were too many reporters there."

"Oh?" He said bitingly. "You were the only one there when I exited, Lady Atha. Surely you could have gone in once the last reporter left?"

"I don't understand what you're trying to say." Cagalli told him, her voice growing harsh with anger. She sat upright in her chair, the air growing fine and crackling with energy around her. "You met him, didn't you? I should have the right to meet him too."

"With all due respect, Your Grace, you have as much right as Athrun Zala to see anyone who is not an official requiring information and a testimony."

"I know I'm a suspect now." Cagalli said through gritted teeth. "And I know you are no longer just a member of the Plant Supreme Council but a representative for the Galactic Courts. But that's precisely why I need you to let me meet him. I need to see him again, if only to tell him that I believe him."

Yzak bent forward, his eyes boring holes into her face. "I think you've done enough damage already, Lady Atha. I think you've long lost the right to decide what both of you have the freedom to do."

"But you must have seen him!" Her mouth was trembling. "He must be suffering- he needs someone to help him-,"

"I've seen him." Yzak agreed. He thought of Athrun, bruised and cold, grim but somehow with that numb triumph when Yzak had spoken to him. "And if he does require help, I don't think you have the ability or the right to help him."

"You don't understand!" She shot back. "I'm not just anyone- I'm-," Her voice trailed down as he stared harder at her.

"What don't I understand?" He interjected quietly, his expression very icy. "I know about his attempts to keep you with him. All that, despite the direct orders that you were to be transferred to another place. I know of all his excuses that became thinner and less believable as time passed. I know of every single time he brought you out of the place he was assigned to keep you in."

She fell silent. Somehow, she realized, Yzak must have known this and everything about them. Had he always known? Or had he found out, and had he decided to wash his hands off his subordinate and friend there and then?

While Cagalli wasn't too sure what the implications of her relationship with Athrun were, she was not ignorant enough to not sense the weight of the implications. But at the same time, there was something about Yzak's presence now and his role that seemed incongruent with what she was trying to make sense of.

Finally though, it clicked and she glared at him. "You were giving him instructions all along, weren't you?"

He nodded. "I will not deny that but I will clarify that I was only acting in my capacity as a member of the Plant Intelligence Council, after all."

"Then you must have known why he'd stayed at the Isle for so long." Her tone was accusing. "Were you the one who convinced him to stay and to take on all those things he never wanted to do?"

Yzak's lips tightened. "I know what you are trying to insinuate. You have no reason to do so, Your Grace. I have never denied using what I could to make an invaluable asset stay and to help the Isle's operation- even if it meant playing on the fact that Athrun Zala has always had feelings for his ward and you. More feelings than he could afford to keep, I think."

Cagalli's fist clenched and it was all she could do to stop herself from hitting Yzak. Even if she had never been on particularly intimate relations with him, she had always respected his capabilities and thought of him as Kira's friend at very least. "How could you do that to him? He's your friend, isn't he? Hasn't he always tried his best for you? Surely, you were supposed to do the same and protect him?"

He shook his head and his jaw tightened. "I will not apologize. You have your life intact because he stayed."

"But for what he's going through now?" She cried. "General, he needs you most at this time!"

"He brought most of this upon himself." The answer came without hesitation, like an executioner's axe swinging down. "For the record, Your Grace, I never saw him today when I visited the remand centre. I was there only to collect some testimonies from those who have admitted to their guilt of planning your kidnap and death- the same people who will testify Athrun Zala in two days' time."

She reeled back, her shoulders weak, her hands losing the fight to stay still. Hadn't there been a time when she'd insisted to Athrun that Yzak was no puppet of Zaft and would have fought for Athrun if Athrun had requested it? And Cagalli thought of the dry laughter Athrun had granted her when she'd insisted Yzak would always help him. Had Athrun been laughing at her naiveté then?

Who was this person now, sitting on the same seat but thinking of entirely different matters and reacting to a person she'd assumed he would always hold in high regard, no matter what Athrun's mistakes were?

"I don't understand you." Cagalli said, her voice faltering. "I thought you would stand by him. I didn't know that you were involved with this then, but I didn't think-," She trailed off, putting a hand to her temple, feeling a flush of shame and insecurity move over her.

"I'm afraid you misunderstood my friendship with Athrun Zala." He said firmly. "He and I understand that personal relations do not affect our professional duties- even if he failed to adhere to that basic principle in the end. I am not one who would ever throw away my duty, and certainly not a friend who's made one foolish decision after another."

"He made those decisions for me!" She burst out. "He must have! That has to be the only explanation why he was so cold to me at first!"

"He forgot himself and the obligations he had to keep you in the dark about the operation." Yzak stated without much feeling. The staccato, precise articulation of his language and his posture told her as much.

Despite the warmth in the room and the relative comfort, her entire frame was shaking. "Was that why he was so afraid of being honest with me every time I came close to knowing his true mission and why he had appeared that night?"

"That's exactly why." Yzak said heavily. "He and I knew very well that by meeting you again, he was likely to forget his mission and try to chase after the past. I warned him as frequently as I could that he could not get too close to you, lest he ended up acting in a way that would jeopardize his privilege from Plant and Zaft to exercise his discretion within his job scope. He has already lost that privilege."

As Yzak refilled his own cup, Cagalli stared at him. As disappointed as she was in that moment, she understood exactly what Yzak was saying. Marlin had told her that Athrun Zala's employers had declared that what he had done was not what they had ordered, and Athrun Zala would have to face his own actions with the responsibility as his to bear. Here, nobody even questioned whether he'd been the one to attack and kill the High King unnecessarily.

Like the rest of the world, Marlin thought that it had merely been a mix-up and an internal power struggle between Athrun and the people who were claiming to be his supporters. Cagalli though, did not know what to think with Yzak's unwillingness to correct what the world thought of Athrun.

With what Yzak had said, it was becoming painfully clear to Cagalli that Athrun had lost the trust he needed the most. Still, he had hers. She wanted to believe that Athrun had always had a reason for sending her to the palace or at least- giving her an opportunity to go there. He must have done it to keep her safe, but something must have gone wrong at the last minute. She believed so. She wanted to believe so.

"He's not the only one who forgot himself in favor of what the past was." Cagalli said tightly. "I am to blame too."

"Of course." Yzak said coolly, setting down his cup. "I never forgot that."

She shrank back, for his words and intent had been harsher than a strike across her face.

He picked up the phone on the table next to him and pressed a button. His tone was still controlled, but there was strong dislike and scorn in his voice. "Get the car ready. I want you to head to the hospital that the Orb Princess is situated in."

"Roger. Will you be going too, sir?"

"Of course," He said, his voice radiating sarcasm. "It's only polite to escort a guest back."

But Cagalli knew why. He didn't want her to control the driver and make the driver go back to the remand centre. He must have sensed her intentions to head back there and use the car's presence to talk the guards into letting her through to see Athrun on the Galactic Court's authority.

She gazed at him and knew, as she always had, that he was no fool. Athrun had always reminded her of that whenever she had occasionally brought up Yzak Joule's name quite unsuspectingly, and now she knew why.

Still, she had to try. If Cagalli could not appeal to his professional discretion, she would appeal to him as a person.

Not realizing the implications of what she unconsciously did, Cagalli reached to his hand, touching it apprehensively. "Yzak, please-,"

He replaced the phone and looked at her with an anger she felt she deserved, cutting the line and her last hopes off entirely. Even the hand she had put on his in a subconscious effort to prove to him that she wanted nothing more than Athrun to be fine seemed weak and unnecessary on that disciplined arm.

His voice was quiet but filled with fury. "You don't know what he's done for you."

---

Two days later, Athrun was put from the enclosure into the circus.

The courtroom he was put into made him think of the deep, bottomless seas and oceans- wide, vast; blue and somehow empty and shaded with darkness with unknown creatures lurking somewhere unknown. There wasn't the grey and sepia one was accustomed to seeing of courts- this place was shaded in shadows. More shadows than light.

This wasn't a sea of life or a body of water that evoked a sense of freedom- this was a hollow, frightening place where nothing seemed to exist while one knew everything could be dangerous.

As Athrun walked, he knew all eyes were following him. The courtroom was filled, and he had the sickening feeling that if popcorn had been allowed, the officials and the authorities here would have stocked their supplies.

"That's him."

He heard one official whisper to another. "That's Athrun Zala."

Even inside here, Athrun knew there were protests outside the Galactic Courtroom, even if the media was at least thirty meters away from the courtroom. But as it was, the circus didn't need more clowns. It already had its star freak.

It wasn't every day that Athrun Zala reappeared out of nowhere, in the exact location that Cagalli Yula Atha had been found. There were murmurs and hands held to lips, as if that prevented anyone from seeing or hearing the excitement in the court. After all, it wasn't every day that a missing princess turned up with the accusation of her planning and almost executing an assassination. Not just any assassination, mind you, but a conspiracy involving Pietre Harraldsson, the Head of Sweden, High King of Scandinavia, and a key member of the Earth Alliance's High Council.

The media, whether it was from Orb, Scandinavia, Plant or from everywhere, really, had demanded for public accountability. News had somehow leaked out that the Orb Princess had been found together with Athrun Zala, son of Patrick Zala, and the Danish terrorists that actually had existed. In other words, she'd been mixed up and put alongside what history deemed madmen, killers and people others did not think of as people.

He tried to ignore the way the spectators were murmuring, judging him and the others to be the same as Greyfriars' men. Or perhaps, he was deluding themselves. The Eyes, himself, they were no different from the others. They had all believed in the greater good and killed to obtain it.

There was an awful moment of déjà vu when Athrun felt as if his bound hands held a wooden toy and he was being asked to unscramble something that he did not want to. Something that would be unscrambled then scrambled and then passed to him to unscramble again.

"He disappeared for nearly seven years, you know."

Suddenly, he was a child again and his mother was distracted by something someone was asking her. She was being led away and he was being led onto a stage and he saw nothing familiar and no faces except the square jaws of cameras and disjointed limbs controlling those.

Blinking lights were everywhere and those were numbed as he tried to hold back his tears and focus on the clock and the puzzles put into his hands. If he played well, maybe his father would smile at him.

He blinked. So little had changed, even if there were no cameras in this courtroom.

"Do you think he did it?"

"Of course- he's that man's son-,"

"I bet you a thousand-,"

"I say, doesn't he look like a murderer."

A voice rose above all.

"Court in session!"

There was a rustle and the surrender to eventual silence as the Jury entered and sat, dressed in black like crows or ministers at a funeral. Either was an ominous sign. Lacus Clyne was not amongst them. She was in the courtroom however, and she was present below, with the rows of other officials from Orb, Scandinavia, Earth Alliance and Plant that had been allowed to attend the court proceedings.

Athrun glanced around, not really seeing anybody from where they sat above him, in their enclosed areas, watching him in his own enclosure. Those in the courtroom had assumed very pale complexions and strangely jet-colored or very pale eyes- like the negatives of a photography. They were soulless creatures. All of them bowed to the judge. Athrun did so too, but his eyes were trained to find a familiar face and his heart beat faster each time he thought it was her.

But she wasn't here. Perhaps it was just as well.

He did not want to see any familiar faces. Of course, they were all there; some curious, some hesitant, most grim. But he did not want to see them lighting was bluish, somewhat dimmer than what one would expect. Athrun was thankful for this, because harsher lighting would have illuminated every face in the court.

Conversely, the spots where the accused, the witnesses, and the attorneys would stand were areas where the harshest lighting was allocated. Nothing like a Gestapo-styled questioning to make things move quickly, Athrun thought wryly. The funniest thing was that all eyes were on him, even though he wasn't even being questioned right now. It was almost as if the court and the jury knew exactly what the real fish was, and that all the terrorists who were lined up and to be questioned were only small krill leading to the ultimate end they wanted to see- his conviction as their leader and the person who had manipulated and killed.

The prosecutorial team was gathered in the left corner, discussing the final time with quick glances and notes that each one passed around.

The main prosecutor was already in his position, waiting for the accused in person to be brought in and led to the stand. Athrun recognized him quite instantly; Balwin Minrofherf was a Coordinator in his early forties and had served Plant's legal service some time before the Second War had broken out. Minrofherf had been a deputy public prosecutor during the trials of those who had committed war crimes in the First War, and it was not the first time that Athrun was meeting him. Minrofherf had been a senior counsel for a long time and he had been known for being sly, acute and very precise.

For the past few days, every single member of the Danish Nationalist Faction had admitted to their crimes. They were not afraid to die. No trial was further necessary for them, and most of them would only appear in court as witnesses providing testimony to support the evidence that was against Athrun. Athrun could already see the Galactic Court's appointed defense attorney sweating bullets.

The judge and the jury sat high above the court, not quite visible. Their voices seemed disconnected, as if they were a form of higher authority. It was rather harrowing, the way the people sat in separate enclaves, separated by balconies, as if they had come to watch an opera. Athrun could name each member of the twelve person jury. For this case, the court had had doubled the number to be sure. The three superpowers had four representatives each. In other words, members of the Supreme Council of Plant, Orb's Parliament, and the Earth Alliance's key leaders would be the jury.

Yzak Joule was amongst the Jury selected for today's trial, in his white uniform. His face was calm, but his eyes were shards of anger consumed by blue, dilated pupils. There was something uneasy about him and that seemed to radiate from where his was. His fingers were crossed under his chin, and his mouth was a straight line of discomfort.

As the charge was read out, Athrun recognized the tension increasing. That was the tension he had been accustomed to feeling around him as a child- the way all eyes were glued on him, the way they were expecting something as he handled what would have been a simple toy in other children's hands. And like he had been in the past, he was numb to it.

"The accused, Mr. Zala, stands in court today with the following charges: First, a charge of causing grievous hurt to Pietre Harraldsson II, High King of Scandinavia and King of Sweden. Second, my client faces the charge of criminal conspiracy with the Danish Nationalist Faction, which will hereby be referred to as the Faction. Third, my client faces the charge of criminal abetment of the Danish Nationalist Faction by way of supplying funds, weapons and classified information privy only to the members of the Plant Intelligence Council. Lastly, my client faces the charge of kidnap and attempted murder of the Orb Princess, who will hereby be referred to as Ms. Atha."

"Proceed, prosecution."

"Thank you, Your Honour. May it please the court," The prosecutor rose, his face stern and his peppery-coloured hair glinting under the light, "I am Balwin Minrofherf, Glactic Court prosecutor for suit number forty-three. If Your Honour and the jury would not like a restatement of the facts, I will proceed to question the defendant, Mr. Zala."

The judge shook his head. "For the benefit of the jury, I think a restatement of your case must be read out, Prosecutor."

Athrun could not see the faces of those judging him. But Athrun was aware there were twelve jury members. There were four from each superpower, and they were supposed to be impartial. Athrun knew that it was as likely as him not having to go through questioning.

Athrun wondered if it was hardly fair. Each of the representatives were bound to be partial in some way or another. But he understood that normal civilians could not be asked to act as the jury. A few others were sitting as witnesses of the trial proceedings. Photography was banned, particularly that belonging to the paparazzi. An official statement was inevitable, but it would be carefully vetted and all three superpowers to agree with it before its release.

If anything, the courtroom was a warped circus stage, without the cheer of the clowns and the animals but the whispers of all those present. The wooden benches and tables at the lowest level where Athrun waited were washed with the strange glow of the light, and he felt like a creature being scrutinized while dissected in a petri-dish.

"Your Honour," The prosecutor recited, pacing a little but maintaining his control of the court quite effortlessly, "The accused, Mr. Athrun Zala, is twenty-five this year and at present, not employed by Zaft or the Plant Intelligence Council, which he possibly served in the past. Before returning to Orb and rejoining Zaft after the Second War, it is crucial to note that Mr. Zala had defected twice from Zaft and from the service of Plant. It is equally key to state here that he had been employed briefly in the Orb military forces after the Second War, although criminal allegations forced him to resign and leave Orb."

There were murmurs in the court that broke out in the background, and even the judge seemed too caught up with the provided details to want to put an end to the noises.

Athrun did not look at the section of the jury that contained his past employers. As it was, he could not blame them anymore than himself.

"Moreover, Your Honour," Minrofherf continued, "Mr. Zala here has been missing from the public's eye for nearly seven years since the Second War ended. Other than admitting that he was in their service until recently, the head of the Intelligence Council has declared that he was given permission to retain key businesses and operate these for their purposes. These include weapon-manufacturing businesses and biochemical industries."

Athrun knew what the prosecution's tactic was. Painting Athrun Zala as an elusive, enigmatic figure was enough. The dirt of the past and his father's life would do the damage that the prosecution did not have to waste additional words on. In fact, the prosecution's conspicuous failure to mention Athrun Zala's father shone more spotlights on that fact than mentioning it- something the court was sensitive to.

"If it pleases the court," Minrofherf stated, "I will begin the questioning."

The judge nodded, looking more apprehensive than Athrun would have thought possible.

"Thank you, Your Honour."

Athrun was prodded by the bailiff to rise. As he did, he felt his knees weaken. He had never felt so helpless before, but Athrun decided that he had every reason to today. As a default, he tried to keep his face neutral and his gaze leveled.

"Mr. Zala," The prosecutor asked almost conversationally, "With regard to the charge of kidnapping the Orb Princess and inflicting harm onto her, can you tell us why you were employed by Zaft and specially, the Plant Intelligence Council?"

"As you said," Athrun said quietly, "I was asked to leave Orb. There was no chance for me to seek exoneration before I was asked to leave, and while there was no criminal charge, I was not allowed to return and work in the military. At that point, I returned to Plant and was offered a job I held for the subsequent years."

"Mr. Zala," Minrofherf feigned surprise, "I am surprised you would be offered a job with an employer you had defected from twice when you had such doubt cast on yourself in another country."

The defence attorney was on his feet. "Objection, Your Honour! This question is far too personal and pointed for my client to answer fairly!"

"Objection sustained." The judge called. "The prosecution will refrain from questioning the judgment of Plant and Zaft."

"I apologise Your Honour," Minrofherf continued smoothly- so smoothly that Athrun was sure that the question had been asked on purpose in the first place. "And of course, to the learned jury as well."

Yzak Joule looked sterner than before and the other two members from Plant who were in the jury looked extremely unhappy.

"Mr. Zala," Minrofherf stated casually, "With regard to the second charge of criminal conspiracy with the Faction and your role as an Eye at that time, can you tell the court of whether this was part of your duties?"

Athrun looked blankly at him. "I was ordered to infiltrate the circles of the Faction and to gain their trust. This was to understand what their plans were and to circumvent them."

"And how long did this take?"

"About three years."

"I see." Minrofherf turned to the jury. "Clearly, Mr. Zala had shuffled between his duties and those additional ones borne out of his original obligation."

"Objection!" The defense interjected. "The prosecution cannot make the insinuation that my client wavered in his loyalties without any real proof!"

"Your Honour," Minrofherf turned to the judge but threw a mocking glance at Athrun and the defense attorney, "The evidence does exist, as will emerge in my line of questioning."

"Objection overruled," The judge decided. "Continue, prosecution."

He knew there was a trap. But how else could he speak without being trapped?

"Mr. Zala," the prosecutor said triumphantly. "I would like to know what the Faction's plans were, and how did you circumvent them, if at all?"

"I and my colleagues found out that they were keen to kill the Orb Princess, Cagalli Yula Atha to attract attention to the region. Under the instructions of my superiors, I volunteered to help them aboard the SS Rafael." Athrun paused. "The Faction launched an attack while on the ship, but she was brought to safety."

"Then Mr. Zala," the prosecutor concluded, "That means you helped them instead of circumventing their plan!"

The mutters in the courtroom swelled until the judge banged the gavel.

"Thank you, Your Honour," Minrofherf said mildly. The defense had no chance for an objection whereas the prosecution was already continuing. "You say, Mr. Zala, that you were to circumvent their plans, but you effectually helped them aboard the ship. How do your reconcile your words and your actions?"

"The faction was planning to kill her." Athrun said. His voice was not loud, but it carried in the entire courtroom and there were gasps from some in the gallery. His voice grew stronger as he stared at every member of the jury. "They would have killed her that night on the SS Rafael to attract the world's attention to Scandinavia. I was instructed to convince them to keep her alive and to bring her to safety, which was what I did."

The prosecutor did not back down. "Still, you have yet to explain how you could even bring the terrorists onboard while playing double roles."

"The ship had to dock at some point. During that time, a shipment of wine was brought aboard- wine from a company that existed only in name. The faction members hid in the barrels, which were not checked thoroughly that night."

"I see. There was careful planning there." Minrofherf said, rather impressed. "And when they attacked, where were you, Mr. Zala?"

"I was on the deck." Athrun revealed. "I had met the Orb Princess."

Minrofherf looked sharply at him. "Then you had a chance to escape with her and to send her back to Orb. Why couldn't you have done so?"

"She was injured. She got shot in the chest." Athrun told the court and jury. He paused, thinking of Cagalli's fears and what she had confided in him. He did not want to share the details of how she could have shot herself and why she had with the people who had no right knowing of what Cagalli had confided to him. "She got hurt in the scuffle but had made it up on the deck."

"From there," Minrofherf checked a testimony sheet, "You and your colleague by the name of Tom Edgeworth brought her back to the Plants- specifically, to a hospital in December City."

"Yes." Athrun kept his face straight. He watched as a memer of the jury representing Plant passed a file to the judge and the judge read it, pursing his lips slightly.

"Your Honour," The defense spoke up, "I think it is prudent to remind the jury that my client was only acting as part of his professional duties at that time. His involvement in the purported kidnap of the Orb Princess was to facilitate his role as an intelligencer in Scandinavia. He did not cause her an injury."

"No," The prosecution cut in before the judge could say anything. "He allowed the terrorists to do that."

"According to the testimony of Yzak Joule, Head General of Zaft and member of Supreme Council of Plant and the Plant Intelligence Council," The judge told the court, closing the file he had been perusing. "Athrun Zala received permission to join the terrorists to gain information. What happened was an accident. The witness, who was the accused's colleague and present at the scene, has already provided a testimony that supports the account that the accused has provided. At this point, I think I should conclude that Athrun Zala is thus cleared of the charge of kidnapping and harming the Orb Princess, as the jury has given me notice of."

There were mutters everywhere until the judge banged the gavel.

Athrun however, saw the prosecutor smile, as if he had expected this all along and was planning on using it. It filled Athrun with unease but more than that, he knew it would be soon that Cagalli was called in to testify.

---

When court was in session again, Athrun knew it was unlikely that anyone's testimony would be of any use to him. As it was, Sheba's testimony was part of the prosecutor's plan to show that Athrun had long abandoned his duty to work with the faction, and Athrun knew that Sheba was powerless to testify otherwise.

"Your Honour, the first witness of today is Sybilia Van Housen, employed by the Plant Intelligence Council and Zaft."

As the gavel was banged once, the guards brought in the first of the accused. There were murmurs all around as Sheba moved in, her walk rather reminiscent of a person who had nothing to be ashamed of. Athrun heard someone comment that Sybilia Van Housen looked as beautiful as she had when she had served in Zaft, and then eloped with her superior.

Her face was calm on its surface, but he sensed a dark hatred seeping from every pore. Her snow-colored hair hung loose, long and ungroomed from the ordeal of the past few days. But Athrun knew that she appeared even more beautiful. Her head was tilted, defiant but not overtly, and there was a way she could control the air around her. She seemed above the fact that the warden in charge of her was taking his time to usher her into position because he was staring his eyes out of his head.

There were more people taking their seats as Sybilia alias Sheba was brought in, and he was cued to sit as well, behind his personal set of bars. He watched as Tom, opposite him on the far end of the grounds, cursed silently. Barnett, towards his left, looked pale and ill. Her usual ponytail had come loose, and her autumn-colored hair had lost some of its glossiness. Lent's glasses were missing- he had no need to use those when he had perfect eyesight, but the absence of the familiar tools made him look like a less benign, friendly person.

The others would be brought in later.

On the other side, Athrun recognized a few of Greyfriars' men. One shook a fist at him rather unsuccessfully- it was tied behind with the other at the back of the chair.

When Athrun smiled to provoke him, the man howled and tried to lunge even five meters away. He was successfully detained once his personal baliff shot him with a stun gun. Naturally, the courtroom was filled with murmuring and it was enough that those present were components of a circus.

As those present tried to settle down, the judge banged his gavel at least thrice.

"Begin questioning, prosecution," The judge snapped.

"Yes, Your Honour."

"Sybilia Van Housen," rapped Minrehorf, "You are here today to provide testimony against one of the accused. Athrun Zala faces one particular charge of being an international terrorist with the crime of instigating bad relations between Orb and Scandinavia by means of manipulating the Orb Princess into shooting the High King of Scandinavia. Another related charge is his kidnap of the Orb Princess, as derived from the testimony of the Faction members' testimony."

Sheba's stoic expression did not change. Given that she had strolled right into Poland after the Plant Intelligence Council had declared her and a few others to be working for it, she had no reason to be afraid, Athrun thought wryly, seeing that she had always acted within the lines of her duty. "It is true that I work as an intelligencer for Zaft. Proof of this has already been submitted by my employers. I will testify to the best of my abilities."

The prosecutor coughed, feeling slightly out of depth with the woman who he was supposed to question. Yet, she seemed to be the one leading here.

"How long have you been reporting to the accused, Mr. Athrun Zala, otherwise known as Rune Estragon?"

"I do not report to him in the way that you are insinuating." Sheba said firmly. "He may be a superior, but I did not work for him in the scope of what he has done."

"How did you know the first accused, Mr. Zala then?"

"He was- no, is- a colleague." Her expression was steely.

Athrun wondered if he ought to feel glad at her loyalty towards him. But he caught a disapproving glimmer in Yzak's eyes and knew that Sheba would have to explain herself later.

"Ms. Velasco," The prosecutor asked, "Will you tell us what the scope of your professional duties as an Intelligencer, otherwise codenamed Eye, included?"

She took in a deep breath. "I instructed elite soldiers on Zaft military training ground."

"Where is this place?"

Sheba showed no change in expression. "In Aprilius city, back in the Plants. My job was to train the elite soldiers of Zaft who were sent there. So was Athrun Zala's. The skills we both taught included hand-to-hand combat and piloting."

This was true, Athrun knew, but only partially. There were a whole host of other duties Sheba had, but she was not revealing those, nor where the real location of the place she had carried her duties out in was. The Intelligence Council must have already briefed each Eye on what to say.

"Indeed." The prosecutor paced. "Were you ever posted to Scandinavia as part of your training?"

"Never." She said firmly. "I have a duty of confidentiality to my employers, which I have not been discharged of. But I can safely say that the place I worked in was in the Plants and at no point, in Scandinavia."

"Objection, Your Honour!" The prosecution was frowning. "How could you never have been posted in Scandinavia when you were there to break up the conflict between the Orb troops and Danish Nationalist Faction, as they call themselves?"

Sheba's eyes darkened slightly but she did not hesitate more than she could. "I and the other Eyes were called in to prevent a fight our superiors had learnt of."

"A fight that was allegedly started by Athrun Zala, your colleague." The prosecutor pressed.

"Yes." Sheba had no choice but to agree. "I did go to Scandinavia. The Eyes rushed over to break it up just in time."

"And how did you know the fight occurred in Scandinavia?" The prosecution questioned. "Or for that matter, in the Swedish Palace?"

Sheba paused. "I and the others received instructions including the location. The information was passed down directly from the superiors, and I can only guess that other intelligencers within Scandinavia got wind of the situation there."

"Prosecution," The judge interjected. "Continue with the questioning- the circumstances of the place are not so important for the purposes of this testimony to ascertain that the accused Athrun Zala overstepped the limitations of his duty."

"Yes, Your Honour." The prosecution cleared his throat. He was losing his nerve with Sheba, Athrun realized. Yet, he didn't need to do more than show that Athrun's scope of employment had been vastly different from that of Sheba's for the court to believe that Athrun would have naturally decided to abandon his duties. By virtue of his heritage, Athrun's conviction was inevitable.

But he had no time to dwell on the thoughts of others. The questioning continued.

"Ms. Velasco, or perhaps, Ms. Van Housen, when did you start working with Mr. Zala? And in the course of your relationship as colleagues, did he have a history of insubordination?"

"No." She held her head high. "He behaved professionally and within the grounds of discretion that all Intelligencers must have to act for their employers' interests."

"But I understand that you had another colleague by the alias of Sanders Gargery," The prosecutor feigned surprise. "As I understand the testimony by a member of the Intelligence Council whose name I am not at the liberty to disclose, Athrun Zala took over Gargery's role after Gargery was killed in action."

He watched her expression grow troubled against her will. She knew where this was going, but Sheba still took orders from Zaft and her superiors. Likewise, Athrun understood what Tom, Lent and Barnett were here for, and he could not blame them for what they would have to do against him.

"Athrun Zala was put in charge because he was competent," Sheba said steely. "And because he was the right man for the job."

"I see." The prosecutor nodded, smiling a little, pulling out another file and staring at it. "Would you say, Ms. Velasco, that Athrun Zala had always reported of everything to his superiors and colleagues?

Athrun knew what the prosecutor was doing. Any evidence of insubordination would act as evidence for criminal conspiracy with the terrorists. And frankly, Sheba was treading a very thin line against her own employers' instructions while trying to provide assistance to Athrun. As he looked at Sheba, Athrun knew it was a matter of time before she let a stray thread loose and it unraveled to expose him.

---

The questioning went on for another two hours.

When the Eyes had been questioned, the defense was called to question the witness for the charge of criminal abetment of the Danish Nationalist Faction by way of supplying funds, weapons and classified information privy only to the members of the Plant Intelligence Council

"If it pleases the court," The defense started, "I am Seun Pavilocke, counsel for the accused, Mr. Athrun Zala. If the court would not like a restatement of the facts, I will proceed to question the defendant, Mr. Zala. As it stands today, Mr. Zala's employers have denied responsibility over his actions that were carried out in the Swedish Place- the same events the court must turn its eye to today."

"Yes, Your Honour." The defense looked slightly queasy. He had been hired for the court procedure's sake, and he certainly did not believe for a second that the client imposed upon him had been innocent of the charges for a moment.

For the first charge, a man that Athrun vaguely recalled as being particularly somber and almost lethargic was called in. In court, Nate Orka appeared the same- detached and almost corpse-like.

The prosecutor began the questioning.

"Witness, it has been established that you are a member of a self-named organization called the Danish Nationalist Faction."

"Yes. We believe in Denmark's need for independence. Denmark must break away from Scandinavia and rule itself." This was the only time when Orka looked vaguely alert.

There were murmurs in the court and those were silenced only by the gavel.

"Aside from your political beliefs, Mr. Orka," The prosecution said carefully, "Can you tell me why all of you were so willing to do dangerous things against most people's ethical beliefs?"

"We kidnapped the Princess even though she wasn't directly our enemy," Orka said heavily. "Amongst many other things. But beyond believing there was a need for action, we believed there was only one kind of useful action because our leader convinced us it was necessary."

"Regarding your leader," The prosecutor pressed, "Am I correct to say that this man's name is Greyfriars, as all the other members of your faction call him?"

Orka nodded.

"Mr. Orka, you said in your testimony that all the members of the Danish Nationalist Faction were led by the accused into believing that capturing the Orb Princess would establish the attention your faction needed."

"Yes." Orka answered. He lifted his eyes briefly to regard the other members who were held behind bars. "All of us make no other claim. He is amongst us today."

"Objection!" The defense was on his feet. "The testimony given by Mr. Orka states that their leader was Greyfriars! The accused has not given any statement confessing to being the leader of these terrorists!"

"Your Honour," The prosecution turned to the judge and jury. "It is important to note now that Mr. Zala chose to remain silent for the entire length of his stay at the remand centre with regards to his role within the faction."

"Proceed, Prosecution," The judge boomed.

"Thank you, Your Honour."

The defense found no words to object, and the silence at the uncontested claim made it clear who the jury was going to believe.

The prosecutor glanced at Athrun Zala grimly, then back at the person being questioned. "Is it fair to say, Mr. Orka, that you did not know he was an Intelligencer at that point?"

"Frankly," Orka told the court, "Very few of us trusted the person leading us. Greyfriars, as he was known at that time, seemed too eager to help us. Why would he do that if he didn't share his political cause? We did think he could possibly be a spy from the Scandinavian palace or perhaps from some other country."

"Mr. Orka," The prosecution was leading him in the direction that Athrun could see miles away. "If you did suspect that the accused was not one of you, why did you trust him still?"

Orka stood tall. "Because he promised us that he had a way of gaining access to the SS Rafael. He funded our activities and showed us a way to smuggle ourselves on board that night."

While all of you found your way aboard the royal yacht that night, you injured a total seventy-five guards and killed five of them. Were all of you involved in this?"

"Yes. We needed all the help we could get."

"Where was your leader during this?"

"Greyfriars was not on board. He obviously didn't want to get involved in the scuffle."

"Who is Greyfriars?"

"The man sitting there."

He turned to point at Athrun Zala.

---

-7 days.