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Chapter Two
Scavenger Hunt
Because it still counts, even if you don't know what's on the list.
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Heero and Noin are a force to be reckoned with, Shov is done with this shit, and everyone else spends their time scheming.
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Edits:
Treize's internalized impromptu history lesson was butchered for parts and redesigned - I was basically obsessing on the original run, and this is cleaner as well as changed... and slightly more relevant to the actual story. Otherwise, it's just grammar and syntax upgrades.
Notes:
Okay, it's been pointed out that, as this is a new story, it's good to have a point of reference for everyone's names (I mean… a) it's a large cast, and b) there's a lot of false names being used, so it's kinda confusing sometimes). This story and its universe is admittedly far less constant in your head than in mine, so… I'm not going to do this again, but I'll list off the currently known aliases and the names of some of the really main random characters in a cast of sorts? This is not all-inclusive… Though I may have managed to get carried away anyway.
Cast
01 – Heero Yuy
- - - - Odin Lowe
- - - - "Yukio" (while posing as an exchange student in Jerusalem – it'll never really be used again, I think…probably…)
Odin Lowe Sr. (long deceased, an assassin who raised the boy now known alternately as "Heero Yuy" or "Odin Lowe")
Samuel Srona M.D.
Moira Srona
Mariemaia Barton/Khushrenada
- - - - Mariemaia Barton
- - - - Maria Benson
- - - - Marianna Keissler
- - - - Marlé Leia Lowe
Leia Barton
- - - - Leyda Keissler M.D.
Dekim Barton (Leia's father – deceased)
Trowa Barton (Leia's brother –deceased – was assassinated at the start of Operation Meteor and replaced by the teenager now known as Trowa Barton or Adam Bloom)
02 – Duo Maxwell
- - - - "Chaos" then shortened to "Kay"
- - - - Kasey von Koll
Melissa "'Liss" von Koll (wife)
- - - - Melissa Mehile (maiden)
- - - - Melissa Maxwell
William Mehile (Melissa & Nolan's father)
Nolan Mehile (Melissa's younger brother)
Amos van Romondt
Karina "Rina" von Koll
- - - - "Sin"
- - - - Karina Tenbrook (maiden)
Lucas von Koll (Karina's husband – deceased)
Doushovel "Shov" van Rhinn
Katrien Ruttenburg (Devil; was with Relena during the Amsterdam riot)
Father Espen
Sister Isabel Agtmael
03 – Trowa Barton
- - - - Adam Bloom
Catherine Bloom (sister)
04 – Quatre Raberba Winner
In China
05 – Chang Wufei
- - - - Long Wu (current pseudonym)
Yu Shui (Wufei's roommate & fellow engineer)
Lao Kailì (fellow engineer)
Lao Xiu Juan (Kailì's wife)
Lao Yu Zi (Kailì's oldest daughter)
06 – Milliardo Peacecraft
- - - - Zechs Marquise
Relena "Lena" Darlian-Peacecraft
Dorothy "Thea" Catalonia
Colonel Jacob "Jake" Miller
Jack Miller (Jake's father)
Colonel David "Dave" Mitchell
- - - - "Michael" – his codename when in reference to his work as an agent of Treize
Lieutenant Jerome "Rome" Moretti (bodyguard of Relena's)
Lieutenant Lincoln "Lin" Sobrie (bodyguard of Relena's)
Lieutenant Cassidy Foreman (former bodyguard of Relena's; in Strike Force now, under Mitchell)
13 – Treize Khushrenada
- - - - "Tatem" or "Tate" – code name in emails from Váli and likely elsewhere
Lieutenant Colonel Sanchez (Treize's second)
"Váli" (Treize's primary informant in the Regime)
In the Sahara
Roshan (in charge of the Cambyses encampment being followed)
Robby (leader of the Cambyses squadron being followed; trying to get them out)
Nick (was in photography)
Cory (young; anchors Robby and helps keep him calm when it's too much)
Razo (actual friend to Robby; realizes that a lot of his 'psychosis' is an act)
Sally Po's Underground
Sally Po M.D.
09 – Lucrezia "Lu" Noin
Howard Oclaire
Hilde Schbeiker
Chang Xutao
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April 10th 198 – Tuesday – Sahara Desert, Southeast Libya
The door opened more slowly than he remembered, started and stuttered a few times… but it did still open.
He was glad; he'd been searching for this place for long enough that finding it only to not be able to gain entrance would have been more than he could take. He had assumed that this place would have already been looted, but so far it looked as if maybe no one had known it was even here to scavenge.
And the passcode hasn't changed; that's much better than I'd hoped for. The tiny part of his mind that he left unchecked crowed with victory.
Stepping inside, he sniffed experimentally and brought out a flashlight, casting it around the hall to refresh his memories. It had taken him months to estimate the abandoned base's location when he didn't have anything to judge latitude and longitude by, then months more to find the time to look for it without being discovered. It had given him a goal, something to hold onto to keep from slipping off the precipice and back into despair, a way to cope with the harsh winter and spring… and in the end it was a good thing.
They had a better chance of success if they had a safe place to retreat to. He suspected it wouldn't stay safely hidden for long if it was actively sought, and he knew that even now he had little chance of making it to this relative safety with even a quarter of his people… but it was still one more point in their favor.
He would take any advantage he could; he'd long since lost any sense of propriety. Honor hadn't lasted much longer.
Looking at his watch, he decided that for tonight, knowing would have to be enough. It was time to leave.
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April 12th 198 – Thursday – Zheleznogorsk, Russia
He watched the group of teenagers with an amused sort of curiosity, laughing and shoving playfully at one another… the girls clustering together ahead of the men periodically and the men just rolling their eyes. The redhead of the group was as lively as he remembered, wearing what was obviously the coat of one of the men, and she fit in with her friends well.
She was just as beautiful as she had been last year.
Odin briefly wondered if she had settled enough to have a regular boyfriend, or if this one was just passing through as well. After a moment's consideration, he decided it really didn't matter to him; and that it really hadn't mattered before, either. He had known more or less exactly what he was getting into at the time, and despite general society's disapproval of women like her, he mostly… considered it part of her charm. It was just a different path, wasn't it? And she certainly seemed happy enough with her situation… so why was it that anyone thought they should begrudge others that? It was hardly their business unless they were in the same situation, and then why would they denounce it?
The more he learned about people, the stranger they were.
Shaking his head, he focused back on Dasha, debating. That same breathtaking vitality was still there, the same enjoyment in life purely for the sake of indulgence as she teased and sidled up to the man whose coat she was wearing. For a moment, he smirked as he debated if she had picked him up while he was entirely minding his own business too. It was an amusing idea, considering how convinced he had been that fiddling with his little game machine would remove him from anyone's attention… but Dasha defied the rules around her. The fact that she had drawn him out in the first place said something about what kind of person the Russian woman was.
He'd been vaguely curious to see if he would feel jealous to find her with another man, and relieved that the emotion hadn't cropped up; as he'd been perfectly aware of how she would move on, experiencing jealousy have been beyond ridiculous of him. He felt no particular longing either, seeing her again… which was also good, as it would have confused him. He hadn't missed her at any point in the past ten months, after all. There was still something enchanting about her that drew his attention… but he felt no particular urge to make his presence known either. It might be nice to interact with her again… yet he found he had no interest in pursuing the train of thought, let alone the act itself.
He couldn't help but feel that this was significant somehow, and he didn't think Marlé could explain this one. He honestly wasn't sure he could explain it to himself… but he'd felt the urge to come back to Russia and see, so he had. The sense of urgency had come from seemingly nowhere, but… well, he hadn't had any real reason to deny it, so why not?
Odin had always told him to follow his heart, his emotions, so as not to regret anything he ever did; to never… gain that same degree of self-reproach his father had always had. It was far too late for him to escape that, having been stripped of Odin's code during his training for Operation Meteor, but… he liked to think that the universal forgiveness he had been offered by every family member of those aboard Treize's shuttle at New Edwards had meant something just as titanic as the deaths of those innocents. He had reverted back to Odin's lessons with a harsh tilt then, seeking an honest death to pay back what he had done, but instead of being judged he had… found that his father's morals could hold far further than he had imagined.
He had been trying to find his father's footsteps again ever since he had woken from his coma in Trowa and Catherine's circus trailer. It had been more impossible than he could have imagined, but slowly… life had become more than going through the motions. He owed that change to a countless number of people, Duo, Relena, Trowa, Sally, Quatre, the Sronas, Marlé, Dasha, any of the people he had tried to make conversation with in his travels… and Noin too, now.
He had followed a whim to come here, and he was vaguely amused by the fact. Both in his wanting to, and in the fact that he had allowed the gratification. It was such still such a novelty to him, even now that it had ceased to be uncommon. Some part of his mind wanted to snap that it was frivolous, that there was nothing to gain… but as Marlé would tell him, he was sure, sometimes it not being important was the entire point behind doing something.
And now that he was here and had seen Dasha from a distance… he wanted to go south again. He didn't even want to wait for the next bus, really, he wanted to just… be back in the Carpathians now. And it was a stronger want than coming here had been, too. There was… just something…
~~oOo~~
"Hey, Heero."
He turned at the greeting, curious. It was a little disconcerting to be called 'Heero' again after so long, but he didn't mind. "Noin."
She tilted her head slightly as she focused on him, a slight smile on her lips. It was the same considering gaze as before, one that he had rarely seen her without… and then she quirked one brow and genuinely smiled, something he was positive he hadn't seen in the past – though he was willing to admit that that might have as easily been from a lack of attention as it could of action.
"Are you on a schedule?" When he frowned at her, her lips briefly quirked again. "Are you busy? If you've the time, I have something that needs doing that could use your expertise."
He blinked, then felt a smile of his own start to rise. Something in his chest lifted at the idea of a mission… excitement? Anticipation? Not quite the right words, he thought, and Marlé wasn't there to make him try to sort it out… but the idea felt good.
There were a few things he wanted to check on first. But he wasn't sure he had felt like this since…
He couldn't remember if he had.
Her expression had changed, and he blinked again, trying to decipher it… but even as it shifted again, he only caught… a contented kind of amusement? A sort of questioning air? Oh.
"After a couple days." He had told Marlé a week; it had only been a third of that.
She merely nodded and held out a hand, gesturing for him to give her his phone.
~~oOo~~
Turning away from the more crowded areas, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and flipped through the pre-programmed numbers, checking the time. He'd already taken care of his immediate errands and wasted a …suitable amount of time on a… tangent. The same part of his mind that growled over his efficiency when he let something slide – the one that sounded remarkably like his superiors during the retraining – supplied the terms 'wasting valuable time' and 'loose end'.
He grinned, feeling smug and happy and little flippant. The words matched the situation, but he liked his better. It didn't matter what words he used anymore – he could play with any phrasing that caught his attention. He felt his grin widen as he hit the connect button. I could, really, say anything at all… And with Noin, that extended into other languages too.
"Hallo?" her voice was calm, smooth… like when she talked of security instead of the face she kept for the students, back in Sanc. Well, the heavy German accent added something else to it, but he didn't need to follow all the word play and intonations around him all the time, he had decided.
…Just mostly.
"Domo!" he returned extremely cheerfully, a laugh building in his chest just because he was doing it. If she was going to use an accent… Why not? Glancing around at the crowd as he headed back towards the bus, he added, in the same level of pure… bounce… "Ano, you said I should call, when you gave me your number, and be subtle. Is two days subtle?"
He could hear her start to laugh on the other end of her line, and his smile broadened.
"Herr Heero!" she returned after a moment with the same overdone cheer, keeping her own accent thick. "I wondered if you would ever call! You've not forgotten me after all?"
He bit back his lip to keep from chuckling. "Fukanou desu!" he protested. "How could I forget?" He licked his lips and carried on before his mind caught up and he managed to make himself stutter over a word; there was something bizarrely exhilarating about this. "I need to see you again! Let's meet someplace brighter, though! I'm in Russia now."
She made an amused sort of noise. "I'm in Russia too… but as the country is over fifteen million square kilometers, I doubt that's helpful."
"Aa," Odin admitted, eyes scanning quickly over the crowd, looking for anyone who might be paying too much attention to him. "Something more specific, then? I'm near a train station…"
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Schwerin, Germany
Relena smiled broadly at the plant; crouched down as she was, the earthy green smell was even stronger: the smell of hope. "You said this one was how old?"
The agronomist seemed just as pleased as she was. "This section's one of the newer L4 strains; sprouted about three weeks ago, and we'll be switching to the summer cycle in another two. After that point, some days I'd swear you can literally sit and watch them grow! The average time from the start of summer cycle to harvest is about two weeks."
"That's amazing," Relena returned, genuinely awed, and all the more excited because of it. She had looked up the life cycle of the staple plants they were introducing when the complexes were still under construction, but she had quickly been side-tracked by other issues and hadn't ever made it back to highlighting the differences in the colony-developed strains – all she'd known was that they matured more quickly.
"This and one other strain are the only wheat we're working with," her guide went on to explain. "As you outlined before, the time and space is better put to the potatoes."
She nodded, still staring happily at the plant. She had gotten familiar enough with everything about potatoes in the past few months, but… she craned her neck to look up the long stalks. These were so big!
Movement out of the corner of her eye had her turning her smile on Jake as he walked back to them, jamming his cell phone back in his pocket. Smirking a little, he noted, "You look like a kid in a toy store."
Entirely undeterred, she stood and brushed off her hands. "These are far cooler than toys," she informed him haughtily.
Her guide laughed a little. "Well, I'd have to agree with you, but I wasn't really expecting someone else to say as much."
"There's just so many," Relena returned. "I mean, I knew the numbers before I came here but… it's overwhelming." She frowned slightly, squinting at the 'field,' then stood up on tip-toe. "I can't even see over them!"
Jake chuckled. "Well, no one would ever doubt you were raised entirely in cities. Come on, stop embarrassing yourself before the paparazzi show up to record it for posterity."
"I'm not listening to you," she announced cheerfully. "You're just trying to get me flustered."
"Well damn, you found me out," her bodyguard confessed in a monotone. "Bursting your bubble is right up there on my priorities with keeping you amused and safe from assassination."
"I knew it," the princess returned breezily, the whole of her attention still focused on the rows of wheat. In her peripheral vision, she could see their guide trying hard to keep from laughing, too, which made her feel good. He had been a bit distant at first, nervous even, before he realized she was visiting out of curiosity, not to find flaw in his systems.
"Well, my nefarious goals aside, we need to get out of here if you don't want to be late, so if you could stop leering at the poor plants, that would be helpful."
It wasn't until they were back in their car that Jake pointed out that they were just heading over to another complex anyway and that she could sate herself there that she actually smacked him in the arm, which set him laughing… and really he wouldn't have said that if there weren't alone by then anyhow, so she wouldn't have had to smack him in public.
He was thoughtful, that way.
"You've been spending too much time with Dorothy," she decided as she settled in for the long drive ahead of them.
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April 13th 198 – Friday – Subotiv, Ukraine – Night
"I really appreciate this," Noin muttered as she leaned over and braced one foot against the bench to pull her bootlaces tight. "It's a perfect opportunity right now, but not exactly vital, and I already have Hilde and Xutao off on something more critical. I'd resigned myself to leaving it alone until I had the manpower, even if it would be better defended at that point."
Odin nodded and shifted into a stretch, testing his leg again; he'd already stretched and warmed up, but while it had healed, it could still grow stiff in a short amount of time. "I wouldn't have gone to meet with Sally if I wasn't ready to act," he returned. "And my timeline isn't overly specific." Though… Pursing his lips, he ventured, "It seems like a simple enough mission."
"Simple for you and me," she agreed. "Just in and out." Looking up from her boot, she smiled. "If Hilde wasn't afield and raiding at more or less the exact same time, I'd do it myself, but I can't have her showing up in two places at once." Focusing back on finishing her laces, she added, "That would give the game away. So I either have to wait or I need a proxy… and I know you're good enough to do it on par or beyond what I could manage."
It took him a moment, but then he remembered the more recent 'in action' wanted photos of Hilde that showed on the news, and took in the length of Noin's hair, her body type… and he grinned. "How much of what Hilde has taken credit for was actually her?"
The ex-OZ instructor let out an amused snort. "Towards the beginning, most of it." She looked up to meet his eyes again and gave him a smug grin. "For the past two years, though? Maybe a third."
He chuckled a little himself. Clever. After a certain point everyone expected Hilde, and the two women were physically similar enough that it must have been easy to slide it past with no one suspecting Lucrezia Noin might have something to do with it. Considering the time gap Noin was admitting alongside Hilde's increasing skill, it had only looked as though Hilde's growth was exponential instead of impossible. It was… a flawless cover, with added bonuses aside, considering how many soldiers had come to outright fear Schbeiker.
What is it Marlé says? "Nice."
She cast him an odd look for a moment, then let out an amused sigh. "I suppose it is."
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L2
Marie sighed, pushing away from the laptop to look out the window. She'd woken up with her mother so they could have breakfast together before she went to work, and she'd mostly kept busy either studying German or meandering the net. The break was nice in some ways, but… it was weird to not have Odin around. She'd worried that they'd both start to go stir crazy while he'd been in the earlier stages of recovery with his leg and they'd mostly had to stay inside, but they'd spent it like they always had before, with him teaching her – just less physical stuff. German was the second language she was trying to get at least the basics of down since Christmas – She'd been raised bilingual with Italian, like most L3 citizens, so this would be her fourth total – and they'd gone over more than she thought there was to even know about computers, and a bunch of review over the guidelines for getting your GED that her mom had insisted on…
She got where she was coming from, but it wasn't like she could get her high school diploma under her real name for a few more years at least, so it was kinda dumb. Unfortunately, her argument that if Marlé Lowe needed a high school diploma on her records before then, Odin could just mock up the certificate and make it legit had fallen flat. Really, he'd make her do it and call that proof that she deserved to have it, by his estimation… but her mom hadn't been super impressed with that logic either.
In the end of the day, it hadn't been hard to file for and take the test as Marianna Keissler, and she'd passed without even studying; maybe it had been a little close, but a pass was a pass, so whatever. As soon as Odin thinks I can pull it off perfectly, I'm totally making a diploma for Marlé, she decided. Trying not to giggle, she couldn't help but add, And one for Odin too, even if he didn't pass.
Her mom had insisted on ordering the textbooks for the best GED cram course then, and insisted that Odin 'include them as part of his running curriculum.' It sounds so boring when she says it like that. Because passing wasn't enough, or something, and she thought Odin might actually care about flunking the stupid subjects when he could totally teach college math and physics.
…I want to go outside.
Sighing, she grabbed her cell phone and tucked it into her pocket, then her wallet; she'd promised she wouldn't do anything that might be 'noticed' in terms of parkour while Odin was gone, so it wouldn't be as fun as she liked, but she was starting to catch up a little to Odin when it came to speed… And she didn't need a coat up here in the colonies; the warmth was nice, after over half a year on Earth.
Grabbing her keys, she went out the front door and locked it. Maybe she'd find something interesting to do… or at least she supposed she could wander until lunchtime, and go meet up with her mom at the hospital.
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April 14th 198 – Saturday – Military Base Outside Smila, Ukraine – Early Morning Hours
It felt good to… subvert, again. He had restricted his actions through computers for so long now that he had initially been worried about updates and shifts in coding, but he hadn't stopped learning how to dredge up whatever information or access he had wanted; he had simply ceased to act on it. His speed could use some improvement, as knowing and doing were separate things, but he was still a decent enough percentage ahead of the curve to suffice.
He was stalking again, which he also hadn't done in some time… and not alone, which was new altogether. It was… euphoric? Invigorating. He had always trusted his own skills, but with the outside support, there was literally nothing that could take him by surprise. He had done the legwork to make it possible in the first place, but Noin was still sorting through and organizing what data fell into her hands with more ease than he thought he could have, before Zero.
He needed to finish teaching Marlé how to stalk – she only knew his halfassed public version that he'd never been able to break from for a normal walk.
He heard a soft click next to him, then, "Door on your right; company coming up from the north."
Odin slid into the empty room, bringing it back to a soft close just as he began to hear boots in the hall. Glancing around, he quickly registered that this was a small conference room, nearly bare enough to be sterile; nothing of use. "Clear," he muttered under his breath.
There was a long pause before Noin agreed in his ear. "Clear."
He stepped swiftly back into the hall, and heard the lock re-engage once he closed the door. "Fork ahead?" he asked under his breath.
"West."
He made it to the office she had pinpointed without any direct encounters, which was how they had planned, but it was still smoother than he'd expected. All they were after was information, and that was more valuable when the enemy didn't realize it had been acquired… but he had never had such a complex, non-contact investigative mission line up so neatly. There were advantages to be had when your partner had spent years training men in the enemy camp; Noin knew all their protocols, all their shortcuts, and all their possible bad habits which were prevented by security – and any of the ways those rules were gotten around.
The breadth of her knowledge left him relieved that the majority of his instructors were confirmed as dead.
The contents of the computer copied onto a small drive he'd brought with him, he made his way back through the complex faster than he had come in, more confident now in the system they had rigged together. Noin had his laptop just within range, with access to all the base's systems until someone noticed her, which gave her all the camera feeds and alarm and lock systems… though it was impressive, how well she was streamlining it on such a small screen. Her voice passed directions and warnings through his earpiece and she had feedback through the mic clipped onto his collar, so he hadn't had to memorize the layout entirely. The prep for this job had been worked out almost entirely on the drive over.
I would have needed far longer than those forty minutes to be able to do this alone, he mused. And even then, I probably would have needed to fall back on violence at least once. She'd described the security as being 'low,' but it was shortly after she had begun briefing him that he realized that it she was using his definition of low.
He knew he'd liked Noin for a reason.
His partner let out a soft curse. "Stand." And he could hear why – someone was coming in the opposite direction down the hall, and there was no place to hide. At this hour there was no chance of them mistaking him for a newly transferred recruit, even with his stolen uniform. Almost immediately, however, he heard a computerized voice further away announce, "Invalid entry. Please scan again."
He thought it was moronic to have the electronic locks – especially to high security areas – connected to the computer mainframe, but he could appreciate the openings it left him. Against a less skilled infiltrator, the connectivity was useful, allowing a single guard to maintain a secure base; but if outsiders could get in, it gave them free reign over everything, including the alarms. No one would be able to tell he had even taken over the computers unless they regularly checked the logs on the office door Noin had unlocked for him.
"Double back and take your first right – stealth takes precedence, they're on alert now." Knowing she had an eye on it, he did as told, slipping around a corner as he heard Noin make a frustrated noise. "They're asking control what they have on the door scanner." Then, "They're heading back to the control room to check a few things through, the graveyard controller didn't catch anything that matched… their left is just before your hall. Stay where you are – they should pass without noticing you… they think the scanner's probably buggy, but they're being cautious."
He tapped his mic once to indicate he heard and understood, focusing on lengthening his breathing and keeping a firm, comfortable stance to avoid shifting and making noise unintentionally. Dimly, he missed his old mission uniform. No loose cloth to brush against itself and make noise, or to get caught on anything; no pockets that could hinder movement if filled with a tool, however useful… But it was far too cold for his old shorts now, and his skin could sear with unexpected pain if some of his worse scars were touched unexpectedly – he couldn't guarantee he wouldn't flinch if it flared intensely enough. The steady pressure of the leggings he wore under his pants were a must if there was a chance that he might need to be combat ready.
He was close enough to hear them breathe, now, though they didn't seem to be in any particular hurry. They were already convinced it was an error or a button the controller had accidentally hit, so he would have plenty of time to-
His calf vibrated.
"Little less-"
Even as the second millisecond of the song began, he was slingshoting around the corner into two very surprised soldiers, striking with a knife-hand at the first's throat as he dove into them.
"-conversation-"
"Tell me that isn't your cell phone!"
He kicked the first further into the second even as the man fell, unconscious, and pushed off the wall with one hand to pivot hard in midair and slam his left heel into the second's face as the back of his head cracked against the floor.
"-little more action."
Regaining his footing, he started off at a run in the direction Noin had suggested before. "It wasn't my cell phone," he lied obediently.
"Then what the hell was it?" she demanded.
"My cell phone."
"Damnit, soldier!"
"You said-"
"South at your next juncture!"
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L2
Marie sighed as another five minutes passed with no answer, looking around the park with lazy eyes. It seemed so… manicured, compared to the ones she'd wandered through in Europe.
I want to see real, big trees again.
She glanced back at her phone; he wasn't going to answer, was he? He'd probably left it somewhere, or turned it on silent or something. He'd had no interest in the thing whatsoever – she'd had to program it for him and everything.
Sighing again, she pushed off the wall, checking her watch. Maybe she'd go buy some lunch. Her mom was complaining about the cafeteria food before…
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China
Wufei glanced up as he heard the lift power back down, raising a brow at his newly arrived companion. "Does your father know where you are?" he asked curiously.
"Of course," the girl returned distractedly, focusing on undoing the clasps on her safety harness. "He told me to go do something useful where you could watch while he sought to guide the feeble-minded."
Wufei snorted, fully understanding Kailì's frustration with the new batch of technician hopefuls; the majority of them somehow lacked both any mechanical understanding and common sense. Yu Zi, however – Kailì's oldest child – was an advertisement for a return to the idea of family practice in a field. Her learning curve was steep enough that it could probably be classified as intuitive.
Then again, if his own father had been a scholar instead of a human fighting machine, with Chang Xiung constantly speaking of chemistry and physics instead of stances and leverage, working through notes and happily explaining how something worked instead of driving his only child into exhaustion through training six or more hours every day, then perhaps Wufei would have appeared to have innate skill in machines, in place of his perfection of martial fluidity. He had had to work for every scrap of knowledge he gained twice over before he understood anything in the academic arena; his scientific proficiency had only come through sheer determination and refusal to back down…
…qualities that he supposed his father had gifted him with through the brutal training he began as a toddler. Look at anything long enough, and it begins to come full circle.
Everything in life was a matter of trades and balances. Had his father not pushed him so strictly at a young age, he would not have ever gained such skill in fighting. He would not have then had the time after gaining that mastery to attend advanced schooling, or the discipline to take as much as he could from it. He would never have discovered the pure bliss of creating an idea he could fuse into reality and use to better the world around him…
…And he would never have been selected as a great enough warrior to be worthy of carrying on the Long Clan line through their lone heiress, Long Meilan. As much as his late wife had infuriated him, she had also made him recognize the things that were important about life – made him regain faith in the idea of faith itself. She had pulled him out of the apathy he had been drowning in since the death of his father and given him hope for justice in a cruel world.
If not for Meilan, he would have become an entirely different man. If not for Meilan, he would never have fought with all his being for something he thought was right in spite of the odds. He would never have appreciated how satisfaction could be gained even without 'winning' a fight… That a cause could be worth more than your pride – more than your life, even. That living with shame at mistakes is far better than living as a coward who never dared to even try.
"I haven't checked the calibration on those sections yet," he told Yu Zi, gesturing towards the panels on the opposite side of the receiving plane. "When you're finished with those, I'll show you the assembly on these." Currently, he was building up the structure of one of the energy conversion 'flowers'. "You'll need to know every piece perfectly to do repair without supervision, and these will give you less trouble than the older versions; it's a good place to start."
The girl nodded easily and picked her toolbox back up before padding over to the panels, and Wufei couldn't help but shake his head a little. Yu Zi gave him so much less trouble now that she was apprenticing under her father – and virtually him too, considering how often the man pushed her off on him to deal with his less competent ducklings. And while that might have annoyed him at three months ago, he considered it a favor now; after all, if he had had to cope with an assistant from the rest of the batch, he would likely be facing murder charges. Yu Zi, with her calm efficiency, was a soothing shadow of noise nearby; he could trust her to not make mistakes. Under any other circumstances, allowing someone else to play with his creations – at least, while he was still in the same room – would have been nerve-wracking. It had been hard to even allow Howard's team of experts repair Nataku when he was aboard Peacemillion, even when he knew they could likely do a better job than he could himself.
With an easy breath, he focused back on what he was doing, relaxing more as Yu Zi settled into her usual rhythm. Somehow, inner peace was getting easier and easier to find these days.
oOo
oOo
Fifteen Minutes Outside Smila, Ukraine City Limits
Looking back, it still went far better than he had expected. Apparently the controller had either fallen back asleep or assumed that the two soldiers had been distracted… or that they were only trying to get a rise out of him in the first place. It wasn't as clean of a job as they had been aiming for, but taking down a few enemy soldiers had been within their parameters for error – he'd blundered, but he'd also taken care of the problem. Noin was annoyed at him, but… Well, he'd be pretty annoyed if she had made that kind of mistake. It was embarrassing that he'd forgotten something so simple.
It wasn't until they pulled off on a side road and stepped out to switch the license plate and take the colored decal-wrap off the car, changing its color from black back to a metallic green, that he decided to apologize. When she just rolled her eyes, he admitted, "I've never had a phone before."
She gave him a look. "No? And how long have you had this one?"
"Five days."
She studied his face for a moment, looking skeptical, before sighing. "Only you, Heero." Shaking her head, she moved to get back in the car. "You handled it, and you came out fine." She laughed. "Shit, more than fine, you handled it beautifully, even, but…" Snorting slightly, she slid back into the driver's seat. "I'm checking your damn phone for you before a mission from now on."
He grimaced a little as he got back in himself, but didn't protest; he'd only given her the right. "Not an entirely bad idea," he agreed. He was fairly sure he wouldn't forget again after this, but he had no habits for a phone, and therefore no guarantee.
They passed maybe ten minutes in silence before Noin asked, "How have you never had a phone?"
He shrugged. "My father always said they were a liability." He paused. "I think I agree with him."
She let out another of those soft chuckles. "You would. So who was it, anyway? I didn't see you silence it, so it was a little short for a ringtone. You got yourself a girlfriend texting you at all hours?"
He gave her a look for a moment, wondering if she was serious, which made her chuckle again… and shook his head in a negative before reaching down into the pocket on his calf to pull the little machine out and unlock it. "No." I suppose I have Marlé to thank for whatever song that was instead of a simple beep or chime. "A text," he agreed with Noin, hitting the button to open the message… and closing his eyes, suddenly feeling just… very tired.
'i'm bored'
His companion raised one eyebrow, lips twitching. "No good?"
He reached up a hand to cover his face, even more embarrassed than before. "No good," he agreed.
oOo
oOo
April 17th 198 – Thursday – Lille, France
"It's frustrating," Dorothy muttered as she added cream to her coffee, taking care to hold her free hand up in an elegant gesture – as she normally did – with convenient enough placement that it would largely block any view of her lips. "Either a significantly large proportion of the noble population have had personality transplants for unknown reasons, or I am missing something important."
Relena frowned. "What do you mean?"
The Romefeller heiress rolled her eyes and gestured an elaborate… annoyance. "Only a bare handful are following my projections." Catching Relena's skeptical look, she narrowed her eyes. "It is not simply me, Lena. I know these people; I know their entire extended families, their nervous habits and pleasures. Those facts are not wrong, and very few of them have shifted even slightly. It is their responses to my advances that do not match the situation."
The princess picked up her tea and sipped, considering. Technically speaking, Dorothy hadn't worked for her or Milliardo since October, when she had formally come into her own as the new head of Romefeller – which was far older and technically had more power and sway than the Regime could ever hope, despite Milliardo's semi-successful attempts to castrate it. Truthfully, Dorothy hadn't worked for Milliardo since the February before last, when she had sworn over her absolute allegiance to Relena.
So while Dorothy had presumably begun to mend her network of contacts and assets last month, bringing Romefeller as a whole into power again, she had only begun to do so because her friend had asked her to profile the powerful as ally candidates. Dorothy could get very far and dig deep into the layers of a shockingly wide array of individuals without anyone even blinking; she had, after all, been brought up to fill exactly the role she was playing now. She was inherently manipulative enough, an actress of great enough skill, that she could sound them out without them realizing what she was after. The fact that the noblewoman was eccentric as a mad scientist – only reborn with the interests of a ruthless socialite – also helped. It took a great deal of prodding before someone even vaguely familiar with her antics – and her priorities, good lord – might suspect foul play.
Relena had to give the other woman credit where it was due, though; anyone who could exude such confidence, perfectly intimidating and masterfully controlling her opponents when she had neon green highlights through her platinum hair must have innate talent. Somehow, with her ridiculous designer clothes and royal carriage, Dorothy made green hair look downright glamorous.
And however odd or pitiful sounding the excuse about how it was something about the subjects that was wrong instead of her predictions concerning her Romefeller contacts, the heiress was a talented strategist. She had the emotional maturity of a middle-schooler and the patience of a five-year-old, but she was still a prodigy, a genius, in her own right – if she considered it a strong enough possibility to bring it up like this, than there was little doubt that she was exactly right.
But what could the missing factors be? Again, Dorothy was the tactician. If she hadn't found the clue to click the pieces together yet, then the only help Relena could hope to offer were observations that had a chance of sparking a flash of insight in the other woman's mind. Her own talents laid elsewhere.
She glanced to the side as she caught movement in her peripheral vision to find Jake walking back towards them… then stop as his phone rang and he offered her an annoyed look before answering and walking back out onto the terrace again.
Relena shook her head as if to clear it, focusing back on the subject at hand. "Do you have any ideas for what it might be, at least?"
Dorothy, however, was frowning after Jake. "What is he up to?"
"Trying to network a favor for me," Relena dismissed. "I'll let you know as soon as I have an answer, I promise."
The heiress' eyes narrowed. "Is this the same favor as when he couldn't detach himself from his computer for just five minutes a week ago?"
"It's a big favor, with a great deal of moving parts," Relena returned dryly. "I'm letting him cook it up and flesh it out as much as he can before we go over the details." She tapped one finger on her napkin. "Right now I need your details, Thea. Do you have any theories?"
The other woman was clearly annoyed, but she let the subject drop. Wrinkling her nose briefly, she admitted, "My first thought is more related to allegiances… none of them are terribly impressed with Milliardo, and by all appearances, I obeyed your brother's every command for two and a half years."
Relena smiled into her cup as she took another sip of her tea. "They must not have spies inside the Regime, then." Dorothy's ability to not do her work and somehow skate by and keep her position in any case was practically legendary by the time Relena had returned to Brussels, let alone the amount of pure bullshit she'd done in the nine months before quitting.
Dorothy giggled slightly at that before moving on. "In any case, I come across as a fence-sitter, which was true enough three years ago, and then I largely hid from my extended family and connections until now so as to avoid your brother believing I had the sway to actively use them." She met her eyes serenely as she lifted her coffee cup. "I'm an unknown quantity and will have to earn the trust of the majority through the good old-fashioned means of money and favors… but I believed I had already accounted for that." She focused back out the window, finishing with, "It has to do with trust, I believe, but I haven't yet had any luck unearthing what is tangling the network… and I'm afraid that it is likely more than a single factor. The range of reactions is too wide, the complications too severe."
Wonderful. More mystery was the last thing they needed at this point; the unknown was her worst enemy. "Alright… how about any progress on the other front?"
oOo
oOo
L2
Marie jumped as her phone went off and grinned, scrambling to figure out where it was underneath the papers she'd let pile up on her desk. Finally, a text from Odin, probably saying when his flight was coming in. He hadn't ever answered her last week, which had made her seriously start to wonder if he'd dropped it at the bottom of his bag and forgotten about it…
'I'm going to be another week or so.'
She scowled, flipping open the keypad and typing furiously back, 'keep your stupid phone on!'
A minute or so later, she got a reply. 'I did.'
She rolled her eyes, but grinned. Odin was… well, Odin. 'did you like your ringtones?'
'I'm keeping it on vibrate from now on.'
Marlé groaned. It figured, it really did, but seriously, what did a little variety hurt? 'you're boring. what's going to take you another /week/?'
There was a longer break before her phone went off again. 'Checking on a few things I hadn't planned on… doing a few favors for old friends. I'll tell you about it when I get back.'
She sighed. Of course he would; these were non-contract, disposable phones that couldn't really be tracked to them, but that still wasn't the kind of thing you talked about over open communications. It had been kinda silly to ask at all.
'you /can/ call sometime,' she complained. 'i miss you'
There was another long break before he answered. 'Spend time with your mother; you might not see her again for a while, traveling back and forth too many times will be a bad idea. I'll be back soon.'
Typical Odin… She blinked when it went off again, then snickered.
'Find something more interesting to do than texting me when you're bored. Be creative. Surprise me.'
Oh, she'd find something to mess with him with, just for that…
oOo
oOo
April 19th 198 – Saturday – L4
A woman with wild auburn curls and a blanket-wrapped infant tucked in her arms, standing next to a tall man with a thin but deeply muscular build and brown hair, both smiling, the man with his arms wrapped around a two-year-old girl he was holding up by her armpits.
A young toddler hugging a teddy bear and gnawing on one ear gazed directly out of the next picture, bright green eyes curious.
Adam frowned slightly, looking back to the first picture. The little girl was obviously Cathy, with her mother's bushy hair that had a bit more of her father's brown. The woman was wearing what looked like an acrobat's leotard under her jeans and unbuttoned jacket.
…Her eyes were almost exactly the same shade of green as his. Focusing back on the baby, he considered it again. The toddler's were a brighter green, but he had always been told that children's eyes often changed color as they aged.
Not that practically anyone looks anything like their baby pictures anyway, he reminded himself, finding his eyes drawn back to the man in the first photo… because that was really what had caught his interest in the first place.
He looked… astonishingly like Adam himself did. Catherine had gotten her slate blue eyes from him, but the structure of his face, the way his shoulders set, his height and even the way his smile twisted were eerily close to what he saw when he looked in a mirror. He had long told himself that Catherine was simply sentimental and the idea that they might actually be related was like something out of a girlish romance story, but… seeing his own facial structure under the toddler's baby fat had him deciding that as implausible of an idea as it was, it might hold some merit.
Standing up, he went back into the bathroom and rested his hands on the counter, leaning forward to examine the specifics of his face. He wasn't anything exceptional; he had the kind of face you could immediately lose in a crowd, but… he looked like Cathy's father. And when he'd buzzed off all his hair before, it had grown back in with a reddish sort of tint that became less obvious the longer it got to be again. It was a darker shade overall too now, and again, he'd heard people say that children and teenagers often had their hair color change as they grew older, usually becoming darker as you entered your twenties… and even grown out again now, it had some auburn in it. Hell, it even had a few coppery glints here and there… He stared at himself another moment, then looked back down to the picture of the Bloom family that he'd brought in with him.
It's… plausible. He was about the right age, as far as he could tell… Though if this was really him, then he was two and a half years younger than Cathy… eighteen at the end of June. He'd assumed that he was a little older than that, but it wasn't as though he'd ever had anything to gauge it by. He remembered thinking that other kids were annoying, but he'd also grown up with mercenaries, in a setting that had no other children and he had been held responsible the same as the other adults, so he had never had any reason to think like someone his own age. He could remember a blonde girl with dark eyes when he tried to think of someone he'd seen as an equal that wasn't over the age of twenty-eight, but it got fuzzy, beyond that… He resented her, but couldn't remember why.
Not that it really mattered; she seemed important somehow, but he was sure it was only so to the past, and the past wasn't worth much thought.
This though… it was the past, sure, but Cathy meant it still applied.
Shrugging after a long moment, he switched off the light and turned to put the pictures back where Catherine kept them. She was probably right, he was willing to that admit now.
…But he wasn't going to answer to Triton anymore than he did Nanashi.
It was Adam, now. And now – now and what came after – was what mattered.
oOo
oOo
Amsterdam, Netherlands – Ritafore Hospital
"Hey, you."
Doushovel van Rhinn's eyes lit up as he saw his old friend, and he grinned as he caught the bag of hard candy thrown at him. "Hey to you too, Gust!" He squinted at the thick and sloppy handwriting that labeled the plastic bag before exclaiming excitedly again and opening the thing. "Who made these?"
"Tiede and Laura," Gust explained, reaching into the bag to steal one himself before moving to sit down in the chair next to the hospital bed. "Marien had-"
"Oh no," Shov argued, pushing back his blanket and tentatively swinging his legs around. He tried not to do anything fast, because that made his head spin and he'd crumple, but he was not stuck in a bed anymore. Besides, he had to get used to moving around on his own and be at least somewhat practiced before they'd let him go home.
But he was going to go home.
"I've been in this bed so long my ass is permanently numb," he argued as he slipped his feet into the slipper things the hospital had given him and lurched the rest of the way to his feet. His left leg was still damn weak, but it didn't immediately buckle anymore.
Gust rolled his eyes but stood up straight, and was good enough to not be so insulting as to offer his arm before – if – Shov asked for it. "Where are we walking, then?"
"Somewhere outside this room," the other man groused, testing his weight against his bad leg and deciding he was good. It was really his head that he needed to be ready to have work against him… but he was finally getting there. "What were you saying about Marien?"
Gust hesitated slightly as though remembering something he should have considered first, then ploughed on anyway. "Since everything started looking up again and we're okay for food even if prices skyrocket, Marien insisted on using some of the old preserves to make pies for everyone on Karina's birthday, and then Tiede said we could make candy out of the syrup stuff the fruit was canned with. Someone else made berry flavored stuff too, but the peach was what I found already packaged up."
"Makes sense." So why the flinch? He thought about it for a moment as he popped a peach candy into his mouth. Ooh these are good. What could he be skimming over that he didn't want to touch on? Obviously there was nothing bad about pie or candy or birthdays or-
He blinked. "Sin finally admitted when her birthday was?" For as long as they'd known her, she'd refused to let them know her age, her birthday, or even her real name to the point that it had been something of a running joke between him and Luc – though at least she'd given in about the name thing when Luc asked her to marry him – and… Oh God.
Luc.
He grabbed Gust's shoulder and hung on, leaning most of his weight as his head spun and everything swayed. Luc. Luc was dead. He'd died in December, but somehow, it just… how could Luc be dead?
How could the riot have been four months ago? How could he have… how could anyone sleep so long and still survive?
Some weird twist of chance had gotten Relena to take a shine to Katrien, and the princess had been there to see Kat start to break down when she heard about Luc dead and him soon following. So Peacecraft – no, Darlian-Peacecraft – had pulled out all the stops on getting him top quality care and making sure he made it through. He'd been comatose for something like three months, and then in and out after that, and rehab fucking sucked... But it had all been muscular rehab, not mental, at least. And he'd been so focused on that after he started to wake up that all the changes outside the hospital care that the princess was still covering for him just seemed… surreal.
Winter'd gone by a lot calmer than everyone had worried.
Kay and Melissa had gotten Father Espen to marry them in February.
Nolan and Amos had started high school.
Laura and Dev had gotten their diplomas, finally.
Jamus had talked everyone into letting his girlfriend – fiancée now – move into the Den.
Leah was dead.
Luc was dead.
…Luc's dead. He didn't want to start crying like a ninny in the damn hall, he really didn't…
Gust held onto him tightly and just weathered it through, which Shov appreciated more than he could say, and he tried to grip his hand back to let him know. He, Gust, and Luc had been friends since, like… kindergarten. They'd stood together and held firm when everything went to shit, even when they all felt like complete failures for not being able to stop Melissa from doing what she did to keep Nolan safe and fed… And she and Kay were so good for each other, he was glad they'd sealed the deal, but…
But Luc…
After a while, Gust started talking again, trying to distract him… which was probably a good idea, so he tried to listen even if he doubted it would catch his interest. "So yeah, Rina's birthday was the seventeenth." He jostled Shov's shoulder a little. "We finally have all her little secrets now, so do you remember what our bets were?"
Shov closed his eyes and laughed a little, though it was weak. "Not really. Luc made us call them all off when he got serious about her, remember?"
"Ah, yeah, right. I was thinking it was weird that I couldn't remember the numbers." He gestured to ask if he wanted to try walking again, and Shov regained his footing and nodded, though they kept their pace slow. "So we all knew she had to be younger than what she generally claimed, you know? And you remember Luc eventually saying that she acted old enough and essentially was old enough that he was done worrying about it?"
It was… easier to think of him like this, maybe; though he was starting to get wary of how long Gust was taking to get to the point. "Yeah?" I'm not going to like this, am I? "We were closer than we liked?"
Gust snorted and shook his head. "She turned seventeen two days ago."
Oh. Oh ow. He squeezed his eyes shut again, fighting the urge to sway. Turning seventeen now? That was a few dozen steps beyond jailbait. "Seventeen? Gust, that means she was fourteen when she and Luc started-"
"Yeah," his friend returned shortly, sounding incredibly resigned himself. "Yeah."
"…In his defense, none of us ever guessed that low," Shov offered after a moment.
"She sure as hell didn't look it," Gust agreed with a mumble. "But shit, I'm carding the next pretty girl I meet."
His laughter was a little more real this time. "Yeah… Yeah me too, I think…"
oOo
oOo
April 20th 198 – Sunday – Brussels, Belgium – Afternoon
"Jake?"
He twisted his head around without lifting it from his pillow. "Mm?"
Relena smiled a little. He was as adorable as a little kid with his hair sticking in every direction… something it did every time he laid down to sleep. She just hadn't noticed for the first six months or more that they'd been friends because for the most part, he hadn't allowed her close enough to see him immediately after he'd woken. He was so perfectly casual yet utterly closeted about his privacy.
And really, it was that open mask and carefully protected secrecy that defined Colonel Jake Miller.
"How do you have so much influence?" she asked carefully, if bluntly. She had put off asking in the hopes that he'd explain himself eventually or make it obvious to her, as he often did, but she had seen no sign of it thus far… And he had made it clear that she could ask him about anything she cared to in the past few months. With how their relationship had changed, the worst he could say was that he preferred not to answer. She had asked a great many things, and he had yet to refuse… though she had also skimmed away from topics she knew he might find difficult. She only took what he willingly brought up on his own about his family, or his time with OZ.
After the riot in December he'd begun to sometimes stare off into nothing with a sad and hopeful look… and it felt so intensely private each time that she hadn't wanted to ask.
"Mm…" Jake turned a bit more to look at her directly, then rolled so he was laying across the couch on his stomach with his head propped on his hands, elbows on the pillow now. "Hard to say; and it's not exactly your kind of influence either, or I'd have had this done already."
He pursed his lips, thinking, and Relena resisted the urge to reach over and straighten his bird's nest of hair. They'd only had to shave a tiny area to relieve the hemorrhage from when the stage light had hit him in Amsterdam, and he'd managed his vanity mostly by letting the rest of it grow out more and having layers put in everywhere… and she personally thought the shaggier style suited him better. With the extra length, too, you should see how each strand was distinctly three or more shades of blonde even when it was neatly combed – rather casually chameleon.
Very Jake.
"Probably…" He considered for a moment before nodding. "This is the longest I've ever lived in one place in my life. My uncle was constantly moving and we never really put down roots, but… we made connections all the time." He looked thoughtful for another long moment. "That's actually one of the things I think drove Jack crazy about him, and then about me, because I was already set that way when he took me. No solid roots like most people think of, but either I already knew a few people everywhere I was bound to go, or I knew how to make the kinds of friends I needed to get what I wanted. It got to be… not even habit, but it's just always what I've done, for as long as I can remember. I always keep in touch with everyone I know to some degree, so it's never completely out of the blue if I reach back to pull a string or two. And I have enough friends that-"
"None of them ever feels strained for it," Relena finished for him. That… made sense, especially considering the sheer amount of correspondence he'd been keeping for the past two weeks, which was dire compared to a movie star's social life, let alone her friend's intensely private one.
The fact that he'd been putting himself through that kind of wringer for her made her want to glow.
He grinned. "Exactly." Sighing and rolling back onto his back, he added, "Though I'll be more than happy to go back to my normal routines again."
She smiled. "Of course. How close are you to having it figured out?"
"Almost there," he admitted with a yawn, crossing one arm over his eyes. "I'm mostly sure on the best place for us to go, it's fitting and symbolic, even, but I want to make sure the last few things are ironed out, if you'll humor me."
The princess shrugged, feeling a little excited just in anticipation. She had no doubt that her friend would deliver… and she knew exactly how good it could feel to hold out a perfectly finished product of something you'd worked hard on. She certainly wasn't going to begrudge him a little pride if he wanted to indulge. "I trust you," she answered simply, before grinning and tossing an eraser at his head, intentionally having it miss entirely but make him jump slightly and twist to give her one of his sleepy one-eyed glares. "I'll let you go back to your nap now," she promised with all the impish innocence she could muster. "I'm sated."
He snorted and rolled his eyes… and flopped back onto the couch in such a purposefully graceless motion that she couldn't help but giggle. Some days…
Well, no, she corrected herself, grinning wider and turning back to her computer. All days, now.
oOo
oOo
April 22nd 198 – Tuesday – Treize's hidden compound
Treize Aaron Khushrenada, deceased General of the dissolved Order of the Zodiac of the disbanded Earth-Sphere Alliance, Heir of Romefeller, and ex-King of the World – an entity which had been far more literally broken up – finally gave in against all his upbringing and years of determination. He dropped his head onto his splayed hands and growled. It might have even qualified as a scream, had his timbre of voice been less of a deep tenor.
It didn't help as much as Váli had always insisted it would, but repeating himself did, somewhat.
Dorothy was attempting to revive the Romefeller network. His network – or at least, the portion he trusted enough to reveal the fact that he was still alive to, because he could still reliably manipulate or righteously demand their loyalty. Zechs had secured the basics of Romefeller in name and barebones theft when he created his Peacecraft Regime after the fall of Libra on Christmas 195, but while his control was minimal, it had been enough for him to accomplish what he found necessary. His ability to intimidate them had gained him the rest of the cooperation he wanted afterwards – or even some true allies as they saw the winds of change – though they would have done so with severe distaste… But a great deal of his success in had involved the Romefeller heiress that had, at the time, shadowed his every step.
During and immediately following the events at Libra, no one had been sure if it was she who pulled his strings, or if it were the other way around; if Duke Dermail's spoiled granddaughter was the final proof of the past century's rumors of Catalonia mental instability, or if the Sanc prince was holding her hostage. If he was, whether it was stereotypical or just leverage and manipulation, making her believe she had no other way. Dorothy still was, in all too many ways, a child, and those in Romefeller knew it well, had been accommodating for it since she had reached puberty… which only made her footing more unsure. So long as there was doubt concerning the exact situation and her allegiances – and they all knew the guile Dorothy could lie and manipulate with at the age of seven, let alone seventeen – no action would be taken that could directly harm her. Consequently, her skill as an actress alongside her peculiarities painted such an unpredictable canvas that that circle had kept her protected from all sides.
Treize was positive that Dorothy had purposefully made herself a hostage without letting Milliardo realize the implications in order to gain that protection to buy time. The oddities were merely another sign of the genius he knew she possessed… which in turn strengthened her cover and gave her more breathing space. She knew Romefeller would not dare lose her unless it was clear that they already had, so she had crafted her layers of camouflage from all directions… and occupied her time largely by making a nuisance of herself.
That was hardly new – she had been doing more or less that since her father's death anyway. The only difference under the Regime was that Romefeller had fought to keep her antics under wraps for the sake of reputation. As far as most of Romefeller was concerned it was fitting that, having conquered them, Zechs now had to take a turn dealing with her.
The real surprise, in Treize's opinion, was that the prince appeared to have handled it with far more aplomb than Dermail had… which was frankly a feat in an of itself. Personally, he'd always found the girl's antics hilarious, and the fact that she got away with it had only made it more amusing… but he had rarely been allowed into the deeper circles Dorothy was privy to, once he came to lead OZ.
In any case, his cousin was a viable Romefeller Heiress from one of the first families of Romefeller. If she had been the one to drop Libra, she would have been put under house arrest and protected, as they had him after he obliterated the Alliance military. Conversely, everyone with power in the Foundation would happily skin then burn Milliardo alive, despite his heritage as the firstborn of Katrina Weridge. They had been happy to try to use a naïve Relena before, but that had only been considered as an option at all because the Weridges had allowed one of their daughters to marry into the Peacecraft line and gain a stronger foothold in Sanc. Had Sanc not become a nation of extremists and therefore taken off the map in 182, the prince and princess would undoubtedly have been brought into the fold.
Katrina Weridge-Peacecraft's death had, after all, been unfortunate collateral damage; Romefeller had intended to bring her and her children home after killing the father so they could be 'raised properly', but by the time anyone realized the three of them weren't tucked away in the panic room Katrina was dead and the trails were long cold on both Milliardo and Relena. It had been viewed as unfortunate, but while popular, the Weridges had not held great power within the Foundation in many years, either. Instead of causing an uproar, the fall of Sanc had merely put the final nail in the coffin of the Weridge legacy.
To think that once upon a time, the Romefeller Foundation was meant to stop wars. At least, that was what the history books claimed. A group of friends joined together in purpose, then nations united in peace after too many wars wrought havoc throughout the world. Yet after a few generations, the cycle found a new way to repeat, until it became a concern of 'protect ourselves' instead of 'protect the world' and lines were drawn again… both in conflict, then on the maps in recompense when the latest fighting was done with.
Oppression, revolution, peace… then oppression again. A three step dance through history.
Then the rise of greater technologies than ever before had given birth to space stations and resource satellites, and finally the colonies themselves, reason to write a whole new calendar era... and at first, it seemed as though perhaps mankind had outgrown the need to war. Nearly every country had labored feverishly on their own unique spin of technology, striving to make a new mark on history – to preserve their legacies, and instead of fighting or scheming, for once they were simply competing. In space, they wouldn't be limited to their own land, or land that they could steal from their neighbors – you didn't need to have neighbors at all. As the mining rigs developed further, the race for raw resources began to disappear…
Then the very first colonies to go up, courtesy of China, were launched as a show of power, so they could permanently exile a few 'problem elements'. New people, new technology, literally making a brand new world… and the endless waltz of human nature continues.
New problems had occurred with the colonies as well as old ones, naturally. He understood that Chang Wufei was descended from those exiles of those first viable colonies. It hadn't been the first attempted colony, by far… but it was the first with survivable failsafes built in, with enough quality engineering to be self-sustainable and safe for long-term human habitation. The Winner Corporation colonies – the next to go up – had had shielding problems, and the high mortality rates in pregnancy and childbirth haunted the Corp's founding families to this day; evidence of poor testing, as the problems had never become so severe elsewhere. There were reasons you shouldn't try to rush the prototype and testing stages of anything. But then, so often that is simply the price of pioneering. The Chinese hadn't cared if their exiled clans suffered, so long as they could claim it wasn't directly their fault… and it was debatable if the first colonies had really been so well made, or if the exiles had instead risen to the challenge and solved their problems on their own.
Considering the things he had seen come out the A0 cluster series – Shenlong and its pilot only one powerful result of many – he suspected the latter. Though if that is true, I believe I understand why their government chose to expel them to the furthest reaches of the universe rather than risk a coup. It had been one of those colonies that had allied with Dekim, and an ancient A0 colony that the original Operation Meteor had planned to drop. To be fair, the thing had probably been about to rip apart in vacuum at any time by then, and they had long been either viciously treated or neglected to the point of literally being forgotten… But Operation Meteor had more or less proved that there had been a reason behind the exile of those clans.
Sighing slightly, he leaned back in his chair to stare at the ceiling, considering how much sway Dorothy… no, how much sway Relena could hold within Romefeller. Dorothy was now Heiress, valuable and to be protected at minimum for the sake of sharing her great mind with future generations. After all, her father had been nearly as brilliant, though thankfully more socially acceptable. It had been down on the books somewhere since 193 that, despite being in a more direct line of succession as Demetri Catalonia's child while Treize was a nephew, Dorothy was not to be given control of the Foundation unless she matured drastically or there were literally no other options.
Romefeller had stood strong for over one hundred fifty years now by directly following Catalonia lead, only now that the family had come so close to snuffing itself out they were at a loss. General Demetri Catalonia had only grudgingly married late and fathered a child when cornered on the subject decades later than his peers were comfortable with… and then hadn't bothered his young wife again after Dorothy's birth, considering his duty done. By the time Demetri died and left OZ to him, Treize was openly acknowledged as Heir despite bearing his father's also nearly extinct Khushrenada name.
It had been amusing, to spin that back against Romefeller and force them to their knees after the fall of the Alliance. The nobility that had silently puppeteered the supposed democracy of the Earth Sphere for centuries could do nothing but silently gnash their teeth in the face of his insurrection because they still agreed that Dorothy would make a terrible leader. They didn't trust him, but he had been all that they had to work with.
His long game – after Dekim had been dealt with and he had his reunion with the love of his life – had included them learning he had sired a child with a Barton daughter. For all that that had never crossed his mind until years later, marrying Leia would give him even better footing against his peers; the Bartons were, after all, originally a Romefeller branch themselves, cut off over time and distance after their expansion into L3. Bringing a seat of power back to Earth that still had such strong colonial influence could, from their perspective, only lead to good things. Unfortunately, with his 'death' that only meant Dekim's game with Mariemaia had faced far less resistance than ideal when the old man made another bid for power in the post-Fall economy. And now, with Dorothy reaching out…
On the plus side, his younger cousin's fence-sitting these past three years reinforced the idea that he should be the one to lead next, at least to those in the know – and while he disliked using his lover and daughter for blatant political moves without asking permission first, he couldn't afford to turn down such a boon…
…and he couldn't allow himself brood on Mariemaia's situation any longer either. Whoever has her is keeping her healthy and safe – that has to be enough for now. He couldn't help a smirk, however weak. And the infamy can only help all our lives, in the long run.
So, if he stopped considering the personal angle… Relena was the far more likely threat. Yet, knowing Relena, if she did rise to power she wouldn't be stupid enough to think she could run all aspects of a world and colony-wide government. The fighting that led to the war with the gundams had taken that lesson home, at least. She understood how permanently entrenched Romefeller was, and therefore also knew that trying to rip it out by the roots at this point would be both senseless and impossible. Her short tenure as Queen of the World and everything more recently had taught her to twist a few arms and use something like that to her own advantage instead of trying to eradicate it and start over.
Looking back to the report he had gotten from yet another contact's meeting with Catalonia, he let loose a more thoughtful mumble that his mother wouldn't have scolded him for. Somehow, in the end, everything in the modern world wove its way around and through Romefeller… which made sense, but that made working with the old fools no less difficult. Traditions of old – brought in from different remade areas of the world as new governments toppled the old then became old themselves – were melded into something that could at times be incomprehensible. Traditions had a way of becoming as good as law, and even more set in stone – stone only rivaled by an individual member's pure stubbornness to get his or her own way. It was at this point an ancient ruling party… one he had been trying to flout and bypass with minimal success since reaching puberty.
The Romefeller Foundation had originally been an alliance between the larger, more powerful monarchies in an attempt to regain some sense of democracy… and, as the first colonies were going up and hostilities were again on the rise, to ensure that relations didn't explode out of their hands. Energy weapons were born alongside the colonies, after all, and the potential to wipe out entire nations overnight… very suddenly, it had moved from 'possible, with a great deal of effort' to 'easily'. If you wanted to be egalitarian about it, the Foundation was composed only of nobles back then because they would have been the only ones with any power or influence at all.
By the time the calendar was changed to After Colony, everyone in a position of power had acknowledged that democracy was a grand lie; or at least, its current incarnation was. The people went through the motions, hawking and electing their favorites… but only those from the right families rose to power – or in the event of a true dark horse, the unaffiliated were never able to accomplish unique goals. The support of the nobility was critical for change.
If you wanted to take a more cynical view, however, they had all been arrogant, proud bastards who believed they could both take over and save the world – that they could be renowned as heroes. Either way, they had accomplished exactly what they had wanted. Over the years, they had accepted a few more countries and their controlling powers' entrance, usually paired with marriage, achieving greater power and influence… before beginning the slide into the deep corruption the system had been terribly infected with by the time his grandfather was born.
Power corrupted, naturally, and absolute corrupted absolutely… and that was one of the reasons why he had always tried to focus on the simple pleasures in life more than the grand scheme politics. Human nature was deceptive, and while need was at the core of any man, defining it from want… Is it any wonder mankind is so often led astray? He had promised himself at a young age that he would never allow himself to fall into that tempting… degradation.
Desire of power for goals was one thing; but desiring purely for the sake of power was a firm road to hell. Good intentions might get him there anyway, but at least it was a winding path, not a direct, neatly paved one.
Romefeller had taken more of a back seat and begun to subtly pull strings instead of leading from the front when the newer wave colonies went up and the Earth-Sphere United Alliance was born… and after that, it was as though people forgot how much power they still held.
He couldn't think of a way to unravel the secrets of Dorothy Catalonia without placing himself – and therefore all his men and everything they were working for – at great risk. His cousin might make a perfect ally… but he also knew exactly how ruthless she could be if it pleased her.
All he could say for certain was that she had a goal in mind with this latest game of hers, something specific – possibly hugely complex, but also possibly simple. Dorothy's mind had forever been too much of a labyrinth to reliably predict, but she had been pointedly doing nothing to go in any direction for the past three years, and suddenly now she was not only moving, but with her old aggression.
If Dorothy has the ultimate set of poker masks, the next closest bet are the people she relies on: namely, Relena. And Relena, for better or worse, had also acquired the ability to craft masks.
So the key to Dorothy was Relena, and the key to Relena was still up in the air… but she could likely do even more damage to him and his goals if she decided to not ally. He needed to get enough information on her to know if an approach was safe… and he had been trying to get that for over a year now, with nothing solid.
Relena had learned enough to play on the safe side for once.
He let out another tiny sigh. It was a good thing she had learned to curb her impulses, but it really wasn't helping him at the moment.
Picking up a fresh piece of paper, he made a note to put more pressure on finding Relena's opinions and allegiances when it came to her brother and what her plans for the future were, particularly in concern to Sally Po's rebels. That subject could be broached or hinted to, while as a dead man, bringing him up might just cause suspicion… especially if Dorothy was already wary.
They were beginning to lose time.
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April 25th 198 – Friday – Brussels, Belgium – Early morning hours
Colonel David Mitchell sighed a little, rubbing at his eyes before focusing on the reports in front of him again. At this point, they'd started to blur together. He had never liked paperwork, always preferring to be doing something; he'd been beyond ecstatic to get the position leading the Strike Force. He'd enjoyed training his men up to a high standard since receiving his commission, and the first few major targets were both obvious and imperative.
Unfortunately, he'd gotten so caught up on the overreaching goals and the training that some part of him had managed to forget that full research and planning would be required once that was out of the way… and then he had forgotten how long it could take to properly research something on his own. He was too used to getting Jake to either do or at least help with those steps.
Miller would just cackle if he heard that thought, and while David agreed that it was a little funny, it was still altogether sad.
So… practice, he supposed.
He really wanted to move on the Cambyses, spread across most of northern Africa, but he didn't have all the recon he wanted yet; and he was going to need a lot more manpower than was just in his squad, so once he did get the information he needed, there would be the time taken to negotiate more troops. Then the fighting itself was going to be… messy at best. Ideally, his men should be damn prepared, seasoned and experienced, before he took them into an utter shit storm like that was bound to be.
The founders of the freaking cult had apparently gone on about how only the strong deserved to survive in the new world. Their growth method of kidnapping young men, brainwashing them, and forcing them to fight gave them the leading edge on sheer violence. There was a decent chance of turncoats helping them when they got in close to actually fight, considering how vicious the initiation process was and how miserably the recruits were forced to live, and that was something, but not something he could count on for planning purposes.
Dealing with Cambyses was going to be a bloodbath, no matter what way it was gone about. They had ruled out bombing due to the hidden nature of many of their compounds mixed with the fucking cages they kept their most recent victims in, and the apparently common practice of bringing back innocents to… do with what they would…
…He wanted more than anything to take them off the map tomorrow, they twisted his stomach around so bad, but he knew better than to go unprepared. They were basically a desert nation of Vikings. Apparently it hadn't been quite so parasitic of a group to start with, but it hadn't taken too long before the later idealists of the system decided that if they could kill off their vaguely intelligent superiors, as they were both stronger and destined for power and greatness… and they had no real idea of how to manage a group of people.
Thank God though, really. If they were truly well organized, well-disciplined, they wouldn't have any choice but to bomb the entire area repeatedly.
Beyond Cambyses, though, there were a slew of lower priority cases that also required more research that may or may not be easy to conduct… and he considered the said stack in that priority listing with a jaundiced eye. He couldn't make up his mind if any needed any particular sort of priority over the others, but at the same time he was convinced that there was something more important than the rest in the stack in there, and he really needed to make sure not to miss it… But then that could just be old paranoia creeping up.
Still…
It was something of a relief when his cell phone rang, though he frowned when he looked back at the time. It was awfully late for anyone to be making a social call, and he wasn't expecting anything from his men tonight; they were on a much needed break between the minor jobs he'd already started to get their feet wet. Well, they were on break while he figured out what the hell they were doing next…
Aa. The caller ID read 'Jake.' Hitting the connect, he noted, "My job is being annoying."
His friend let out an amused snort. "My job is sleeping, currently… but she's generally not annoying in any case. I should crash too, but, I need to ask a favor."
David shook his head a little; there were definitely far worse people to work with than Relena, to be sure. "What kind of favor?" He'd just agreed without asking in the past, and while that was fine when his friend was serious, it had landed him in some uncomfortable bullshit when he was in a more whimsical mood. Calling at three in the morning when he knew the man absolutely loathed being sleep-deprived probably meant he wasn't just fucking with him, but he'd learned his lesson.
The other Colonel made an amused noise. "Don't worry, it's nothing squirrely."
David sat back, rubbing his eyes. "Alright, let's hear it."
"Can you knock all trouble in Munich to the top of your priority list?"
He blinked, ran the last few lines of conversation back through his head a few times to be sure, and grinned. Wasn't I just thinking something about how Jake ought to come along and do this part for me? Problem solved. "You… just made my day."
"This past day, or today? …Er, tomorrow?"
He laughed, shuffling through the stack of papers for the ones he'd clipped together for areas in Germany. "Shit, let's just go with both."
Jake snorted again at that. "You miss me making you work your ass off. I knew it."
"Things get overly complicated when you're the only one giving much in the way of orders," Mitchell protested. "I want to have a life too, but apparently it's just not meant to be. Instead I have to lose sleep over stupid decisions you'd make with a moment's thought. I can't figure out which part is more important to do first anymore, I swear to God, and it's probably the sleep deprivation doing it…"
His friend made an annoyed sort of noise at that. "Honestly, Dave, sometimes? Just flip a damn coin."
"Flip a coin?"
"Yeah, but don't let you men see you do it, it's bad for morale."
He grinned a little at that, then turned tiredly back to the stack of papers, now that he had the Germany sheaf out in his hand. "I'll need a fifty-sided coin," he announced. "Can you get me one of those?"
Jake started laughing in earnest, and it really was suddenly a better day… a better week, even.
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Scavenger Hunt
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Thoughts? Any favorite interactions, or anything you didn't like? Not that I'll change it, mind, but that is how one grows as an author… and if it's something I honestly overlooked instead of a conscious decision, I might go back and mend it, and account for something better… Keep in mind that some characters, such as Noin (or others as they crop back up), are being written after a massive time skip where they have gone through a lot of emotional turmoil as a bare minimum… and that, more than anything, can be a scope for reshaping a person. That kind of shift was kinda the whole point and theme for every single character in Survival, so yeah. That theme is still recurring here… just that there's more of a real plot and goal in mind now; they're not just developing, unlike in Survival.
Hence the Series name being Recast Steel.
