Disclaimer: Merely a work of fandom.
Note: I knew I ought to have written a few more chapters before posting the story but I got hasty, insecure, frustrated and posted it anyway. Consequently, midway through this chapter, I discovered various loopholes in the plot. I've corrected a few subtle details in the first chapter but it's probably not necessary for you to reread it if you did read it the first time. I'm really sorry but hopefully, I've worked out the kinks in the plot and I won't have to change anything else. Thanks to the reviews from Moments of Insanity, Kageharu Kaco, Lems and Birdy-Chan. I had no idea it would be this difficult writing fanfiction but your reviews kept me going and I really appreciate that.
A New Dawn
Chapter 2
Betrayal
by tarot-flair
The eight-ball rolled lazily across the green felt table, rebounded off the sides of the billiard table twice and formed a perfect angle towards the leftmost side pocket before dropping into it with an ominous thud.
Like the calm before a storm, the silence that came after the end of the game lasted a full minute before chaos, in the form of one Yzak Joule, erupted.
"You goddamn bastard! You must have rigged the table, or the balls, or the cue! I'm going to beat you in the next game!" Yzak's pale skin was rapidly turning a mottled red and a very visible muscle twitch was developing near his temple.
"Again? But there's hardly any challenge in- "
"You arrogant bastard! Just wait till I beat you, we'll see who gets the last laugh then. We're playing again, you insufferable prick."
"I'll have to wait a very long time then. Are you sure you don't want me to play with my hands tied behind my back?"
"God, you friggin- "
"Yzak, just give it up at billiards, isn't this already the eleventh game? You can just find something else to beat him at! Like… …." The dark-skinned boy with his shock of blond hair trailed off nervously as he valiantly tried to suggest a viable solution to Athrun's invincibility.
Yzak turned a darker shade of red.
Fortunately, before he resorted to physical intimidation (not that it ever amounted to much), the door swung open and Kira's head of messy brown hair came into sight.
"Lacus and Meyrin are here. We'll meet in the conference room in five." With that, he was gone, quite probably skipping down the stairs to greet his beloved pink-haired princess.
The pleasantly murderous atmosphere in the room ruined by Kira's oblivious exuberance, Yzak reluctantly abandoned his grand plan of besting Athrun at the stupid game of knocking balls around a table and tossed his cue in the general direction of Dearka before striding out of the door. Well, at least he beat Athrun in leaving the room. Yzak violently slammed the door shut for good measure.
She was six ragged breaths from the mobile suit lift when the first shot hit the wall, inches from her head. Fresh adrenaline coursing through her, she picked up speed and sought protection behind the mobile suit. Damn, there was still one left, maybe more. Sparks flew as more bullets grazed the side of the mobile suit she was hiding behind. She couldn't let Kisaka's sacrifice and hopes be reduced to ashes, specifically her ashes. The shower of bullets abruptly stopped and sure, measured footsteps echoed in the silence of the hangar.
"There's no point in hiding, Princess, you're not half as courageous as they make you out to be." A sneer; a voice laced with confidence and hatred. A woman's voice.
The voice was drifting from the left side of the mobile suit; the footsteps were coming nearer, slowly but surely. Quietly, careful not to make the slightest noise, Cagalli crept from her current position to the other leg of the mobile suit. It was now or never; she leapt out into view and fired indiscriminately in the direction of the footsteps.
An angry curse, the sound of a set of hurried footsteps and the empty click of Cagalli's gun. Shit. She was out of ammunition. The other woman's gun lay abandoned on the ground and fear propelled her forward. As she leaned over to pick up the gun, she felt a hand grip her arm roughly and another hand grab her hair. In a moment, she had been turned upside down. Her face and shoulders were being pressed into the ground by the woman's knee, while her back was excruciatingly bent and her legs were pinioned by the woman's arm. Cagalli was helpless to use her arms; she couldn't bend her back to gain slack so she could use her legs. The woman's knee thrust painfully downward. "What makes you think," asked the woman, her voice soft and rasping, "that you can bring peace to earth?"
"We're getting married."
Kira grinned foolishly. Lacus smiled beatifically.
Athrun grunted noncommittally and continued fiddling with his latest robotic invention. Dearka appeared to be too absorbed in accomplishing the feat of devouring his burger in two bites and Yzak was critically examining his glass of water for any Zala contamination.
Meyrin did not disappoint. "That's wonderful! When will the big day be?" Her eyes fairly shone with excitement.
"Took you guys long enough." Yzak snorted, taking a delicate sip of the water after reaching the conclusion that while Athrun might well be an ass, his kitchen was in excellent sanitary condition.
"Congratulations." Athrun finally looked up from the misshapen red object balanced on his knee but the natural sincerity in his smile immediately earned him forgiveness.
Gulping down his burger, Dearka smirked. "Finally you're making an honest woman out of Lacus, about time already! You guys behave like an old, married couple anyway." Kira predictably blushed. Lacus smiled beatifically.
"This is so exciting! It'll be the grandest event on PLANT, no in the universe! We'll need to invite President Edward Harrelson, Prime Minster Tokada Koizumi, Senior Minister Mikhail Hieronimus, Orb's- " Meyrin's enthusiasm was abruptly brought to a halt by a dumbfounded Kira.
"Um, why do we need to invite so many people?"
"Does the fact that Lacus is the Chairperson of PLANT mean anything to you?" Yzak really could not figure out how this clueless idiot could be the Ultimate Coordinator.
"Oh… I was just thinking of a quiet and simple ceremony with only our closest friends."
"And I suppose you want Lacus to keep the marriage a secret too or risk having all the world leaders think that PLANT did not send them an invitation." The pale-haired boy sneered disdainfully.
"We will just have two ceremonies- a private affair just among friends and the customary, loud, artificial bash. I'll get to shop for more dresses too. What do you think, Kira?" It was no wonder that PLANT, under Lacus' influence, had yet to have another nuclear missile aimed at it. She smiled so prettily, twirled her adorably pink hair so daintily and enunciated her words so elegantly that most people never notice the fact that Lacus actually had an intelligence superior to a certain Ultimate Coordinator.
Said Coordinator was obviously another one of those besotted fools, because Kira visibly brightened up and said, in an utterly whipped voice, "Anything you want, Lacus."
If Kira was the best specimen of a Coordinator, some days, Yzak almost wished he was a Natural.
If the Second Bloody Valentine War had served any good, it was the forming of indissoluble bonds between those who had met on the bloody battlefield. The shared experiences of losing loved ones, of taking the lives of loved ones, of facing helplessness and guilt; were the catalysts for friendships and relationships. Particularly for Yzak, who came to realize the good sense behind the proverb, "if you can't beat them, join them."
Upon the end of the war, Lacus was generously offered a seat on the PLANT Supreme Council where the other council members hoped she would put her commendable scheming skills to good use and where Lacus went, Kira naturally followed. Athrun's decision to return to PLANT to try and undo the damage his father and Chairman Durandal caused inevitably resulted in Meyrin's inclusion into the close-knit group of friends. Yzak preferred to think of his involvement with this bunch of rebels as necessary undercover work on his rivals, and also his duty as Commander to ensure that Zala did not defect for a third time. Dearka, he surmised, was probably there for the food. Zala's arrogance not withstanding, Yzak thought that spending one of his precious off days discussing a wedding was considerably more enjoyable than fashioning dart boards out of Athrun's pictures.
"Have you two decided on a date? Then, there are the dresses to think of, I can recommend a couple of designers. You'll need to go for food tasting sessions too, and we'll definitely need extra security. What about the venue, have you thought about that? Oh, and you'll need to appoint a bridesmaid and best man!" Meyrin was clearly warming up to the topic.
"Mine will definitely be Cagalli!" Kira beamed, pleased that he had finally contributed to the discussion.
Five incredulous pairs of eyes focused on him.
Kira was beginning to feel distinctly uncomfortable.
"What?" He muttered defensively.
"And here I was thinking that you would pick your best friend to be your best man." Athrun commented dryly.
Dearka guffawed unceremoniously.
"Which part of best man do you not understand?"Once again, it was up to Yzak to enlighten the poor, deluded fellow. Really, he had no idea how the imbecile could have beaten him so many times in their aerial skirmishes.
Kira had the grace to look slightly embarrassed.
Before he could open his mouth and stick his foot in again, the holographic television screen in Athrun's conference room flickered on.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have an unfortunate announcement to make." The man on the podium was dressed in Orb's customary ministerial uniform; deep purple jacket and slacks over a white, collared shirt. The entire council of Emirs, with the notable exception of the Head Representative who would usually be making any world announcements of this import, was gathered behind him, looking unusually solemn. Yzak had been in enough sticky political and combat situations to recognize the premonition of bad news.
"Turn up the volume, Dearka." Yzak was fairly certain that he had misheard the tremor in Athrun's voice. Zala was nothing if not calm and collected.
"As the world may or may not have heard, a few hours ago, a breakthrough peace treaty between Eurasia and Orb was scheduled to be signed. As a mark of sincerity and respect, our esteemed Head Representative of State, Cagalli Yula Athha, personally traveled to Eurasia to honor this agreement. However, we the Council of Orb deeply regret to say that Orb has been deceived!" At this point, the man appeared to be unable to continue. Head bowed, his jaw clenched and unclenched several times before another minister walked up to place a hand on his shoulder. When he next looked up, unshed tears glistened in his eyes.
"We regret to announce that the peace treaty was a hoax and Representative Athha has been brutally gunned down."
The incomplete robotic pet fell from Athrun's nerveless hands, clattering to the ground where it knocked into the coffee table with a note of finality.
"That's impossible, Lacus, I would know it if anything happened to Cagalli! That can't be true, it can't be true!" Despite what his words claimed, the inevitable tears were staining the normally bright violet of Kira's eyes, turning them to a near-black.
Wordlessly, Lacus pulled him closer, trembling fingers reaching up to stroke his hair. She wished she could tell him that everything would be all right; that the announcement was a horrible joke and that Cagalli was still somewhere in Orb protesting against dresses and chewing out her council members. But she, all of them, had witnessed enough death to know the painful possibility of losing a loved one in a blink of an eye.
Dearka, for once, was struck speechless and the disquieting silence from the normally loud-mouthed man seemed to confirm the shocking news. Meyrin's hand was pressed against her mouth and blood had completely drained from her face. She looked close to fainting and Yzak vaguely hoped that she would not, because Athrun was definitely not in any shape to break her fall. Yzak, himself, had never even met the woman but he felt a strange sense of loss for the courageous princess whose life he had inadvertently saved in the first war.
The man on the podium was continuing, "I understand that this news will come as a shock to many countries and people in the world. Representative Athha was an exceptional and devoted leader whose loss will be greatly mourned by many. After much discussion, the Council has decided that, despite the short notice, it is imperative that we select a new Head Representative in order to deal with the current crisis. I, Taiten Toma Saran, am extremely humbled to announce that the Council has elected me as the new Head Representative of State. As a symbol of my new responsibilities and authority, I present the insignia of Orb."
"Cagalli…" The softly-spoken word was hardly a whisper; grief, disbelief, fear, fury verbalized into a single word. Athrun's eyes were swiftly acquiring a very familiar, glazed look.
Haplessly unaware of the havoc he was wrecking light years away in PLANT, Saran laid both palms down on the podium, and authoritatively proclaimed, "As the new Head Representative of Orb, I would like to ask for your support and cooperation. The state of Eurasia has consistently flouted humanitarian and international laws, we cannot allow the assassination of our honorable princess to go unavenged! Orb hereby declares war on Eurasia!"
The press conference room exploded into pandemonium; flashbulbs blinked across the hall, reporters forgot all about courtesy and disjointed questions were tossed unrelentingly at the man responsible for the shocking statement. Orb had only recently commemorated the first-year anniversary of the end of the Second War. To suggest going to war again when some parts of Orb still lay in ruins was not only injudicious, it was blasphemy. But the murder of their much-loved Princess; the feisty, compassionate woman who had personally overseen the rebuilding of infrastructure, who had spoken individually to bereaved families, who had had despairing curses thrown at her and yet reached out to comfort the grieving, could they just let the perpetuators of her death get away scot-free? Death, revenge, was a vicious, inescapable cycle.
So it was that when the heavy oak doors of the press conference room were thrown open, nobody registered the intrusion until a ragged, furious voice roared.
"The hell you will!"
The hordes of journalists and cameramen swiveled in unison and the image of a blonde, disheveled woman flickered into view on Athrun's holographic screen.
Author's Note: I've been plagued with utterly sappy, fluffy plot bunnies which are absolutely impossible to integrate into this current chapter. Hence, my slightly schizophrenic change in points of view because I am inundated with thoughts of married bliss and everything sugary and toothache-inducing but instead, I'm forced to type angsty grief. Once again, reviews are greatly appreciated!