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Chapter Twenty-Five:
Revision
Problems are not the problem; coping is the problem. – Virginia Satir
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I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become. – Carl Jung
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Joy, collected over time, fuels resilience. – Brené Brown
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Notes are shared - but sometimes 2+2=5, if your perspective is biased enough. And even when you do get 4... I don't know about you, but that 4 looks a little like a 9, don't you think?
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Edit: I'm probably the only one who cares about this level of continuity, but for I came back here on 7/14/23 and changed the location the circus settled into to be further north.
Hi again!
Another big one, though a lot of it is… reactionary? At least Odin has a far more even keel than his brother. Also, the Noins kinda just… Noin everyone else along. It's a legit skill that all these psychos seriously need in their lives. Also, keep in mind that everyone and their cousin's dog are unreliable narrators on some level, at least with the way I write - not that that's exactly news.
Thanks a ton for the hard edits from fan-to-fiction and Amy, and the massive amount of brainstorming/random details/plotting both they and BigFisch put up with at seemingly all hours of the day to help me sort this monster out.
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December 23rd 198 – Monday – Munich, Germany – Sarracenia
"People are getting a little too happy with explosives for my taste," Delilah mused as she sauntered into the atrium with BJ.
"Agreed," Relena returned simply, standing to greet the other woman before gesturing back to her couches. "I wasn't sure if you were still coming."
"We drove. Iliana thought it quite a grand adventure." She sighed. "France has long been treated as something of a safe zone for my family that are planetside, but that means we don't mix it with business. I have no local sources – I was hoping you did."
"Possibly, but nothing confirmed yet," BJ admitted, and Relena perked up, giving him her full attention. He spread his hands warningly, but continued all the same. "Like I said last night, initial forensics for the 'port in Cáceres shows all the hallmarks of our secondary bomber with a taste for military plastics, while Dijon has the complication of the MS, and they detonated the reactor – the Spanish spaceport demolition was much more vanilla."
"The body count was higher," Delilah pointed out, eyes hard.
"But there are also survivors, and rubble, and evidence," BJ returned, eyes just as stony. "I'm not saying it was any better, just that I'm glad we're not going to see a panic about the stability of historically very inert fusion reactors, especially with this new company trying to put them in cars and apartment buildings."
Delilah frowned, giving him a dubious look. "Why would anyone think they're unstable? We've been using them for over two centuries."
"You are spaceborn," he reminded her. "It's not something everyone thinks about on Earth."
"Earth has been excessively militant for two centuries," Delilah reiterated, speaking with deliberate slowness. "Every mobile suit has a fusion-based power cell. If they weren't stable, we wouldn't be able to fire artillery at them."
He rolled his eyes. "Fine, I just expect people to be stupid."
She smiled, nodding pertly. "I will accept that."
BJ smirked slightly before focusing back on Relena and continuing. "In any case – similar events, completely different methods, but in such close proximity in both time and place? There's a relation, if not direct, and the militia picked up a woman raving… creatively about the destruction, in Mérida right after it hit the news. There were enough details in what she said on further provocation that the Regime took custody of her quickly, and while initially it looked like a red herring…" He tipped his head briefly to either side. "It's promising. I'll keep you posted."
Delilah eyed BJ for another long moment before raising a brow at Relena. "You made your spymaster your second-in-command?" Her voice was practically a purr. "Nice. I'm less certain about the workload demands you're leveraging on him with that move, but still."
"I didn't need a Vice-Foreign Minister, but I was expected to instate someone," Relena noted wryly. "He's a figurehead for the others I have running the department, and he can hire people if his true workload becomes troublesome." She offered BJ an apologetic smile. "Not that I doubt you could do it, but I'd rather you stay focused while keeping all the access."
"Why did you think I agreed?" His tone was dryly amused. "It's perfect. She's mostly impressed because of the implied trust level."
"There's not much point in keeping a spymaster if you can't trust him," Jake mused as he came in from the bathroom entrance. "If that was an issue, I would've kept building a network myself."
"Yes, let's talk about that, Raymond," Delilah decided, tone saccharine as she focused on the colonel. "I went through my old emails the other day."
"You want to throw stones with me?" Jake asked cheerfully. "What is your name, exactly?"
"My mother named me Delilah after Zayeed decided to be an asshole," she admitted serenely. "Because I was her delight. We crafted this identity together, those last few months." Her chin rose. "But by birth? Lilianna Winner."
Jake nodded respectfully. "And I'm Jake Miller, like I said."
"So Ray Seagal was…?"
"Primarily? A way to be in two places at once."
"Or four," Relena suggested, smirking as she moved to the hutch and began pulling out the fixings for tea.
"Psh, not as Ray," Jake protested, smile widening. "Ray was a very boring but personable analyst with bright eyes and not much personal drive; he didn't go anywhere."
"Oh, so you're in an open mood today," BJ remarked sarcastically.
"I'm usually in an open mood," Jake protested mildly, picking up a tablet and heading for the couch. "You're just not asking the right questions." Looking to Delilah, he added, "I was still on the Specials' payroll in 190 too, for all that almost everything from that year has either been redacted or was never trusted to paper in the first place, so working under my real name on the HTD would have been…" He tipped his head to one side, visibly debating before settling on, "Complicated."
"I would have had questions," Delilah agreed, eyeing him contemplatively. "Treize couldn't keep you busy enough in OZ?"
"I don't sit still well," Jake dodged.
Delilah laughed. "I am not that easy to put off."
"There's a reason I broke character and befriended you," he agreed happily.
"So how about this? I know from Treize that you worked with Leia heavily in 189."
"Statistics is a specialty of mine," he returned agreeably. "I actually got a call the other day requesting some freelance work in association with Revenant Rubato. And I befriended Leia in 185, not long after she and Treize met; I was glad to see her again."
"Twice is coincidence, thrice is a pattern," Delilah announced drolly. "Relena, darling, how long did you know him before…?"
Relena kept her back turned to hide her own smile. "About a month," she admitted cheerfully.
"Hm. That's a very nice suit."
Relena could hear the smile in Jake's voice. "Five different identities can earn a tidy amount, if they're all working at the same time. I'm very efficient."
She had to struggle to not laugh aloud. He was being obtuse, but at the same time? He actually did pay those identities individual salaries.
"Ah, of course, you never do know when you might need to buy out three nurseries' supply of yellow flowers."
"…Wait, what?" BJ's tone was flat.
She couldn't help it this time – just the memory of her office overflowing with flowers set her giggling.
"Yeah, that was before I ambushed you," Jake admitted pleasantly. "It was an impulse thing, but Vaughn's reaction alone was worth it, let alone Lena's – he got this look every time he saw me for the following week."
"…That's why you have so many damn pots of sunflowers and trumpet plants around this place?"
"We can't put them in the ground until spring, apparently," Lin agreed dryly from his place over by the door. "Once we open the larger living complex on the southern end of the grounds, everyone is getting one as a housewarming present." He resettled his weight and started to walk closer. "Also, Sylvia is on her way up."
"Great." Meeting Delilah's eyes again, expression serious, Jake pointed out, "Do remember that I had ulterior motives – you know about my personal interest in the History for Tomorrow Database. Before you, my brother's fingerprints were on a single private server that colonial social workers sometimes referenced. I might never have found him, without you."
"That's true."
"If I think something is interesting, I find a way to get involved," he added. "Legal or not. And if I think it's genuinely the right thing to do, I don't let anything stop me."
"Mm." Relena turned back around in time to see her friend's thoughtful look turn into an easygoing smile. "I can tell you're sincere, but I'll have to keep thinking. Three is a bit much. Four, if we're counting Treize."
Relena focused on her beau as she came back over with the tea tray, determined not to break face again. Jake was giving Delilah the same easy smile he had always given her before she knew his darker sides – which wasn't to say it wasn't genuine, because it was. It was just… comparatively shallow. Simpler. "What can I say? I have good taste in friends." He smirked. "Even when some of them turn out to secretly be far wealthier than they originally claimed."
"I was formally disowned and never reinstated, thank-you," she informed him primly. "I had more of a safety net than my new life story implied, with an older sister and the three littles she claimed moving to France just weeks after me, but she respected my wishes for independence – and I never accepted financial support from my family." Reaching for the teapot, she checked the strength of the brew and sighed before replacing the lid. "The money I had when I came to Earth truly did come from what my mother left me in her will, and I made my way from there." Meeting Jake's eyes solidly, she quietly admitted, "Without RLTT candidacy, I very much doubt the HTD would have ever come to fruition." Smiling brightly, she added, "And you, personally, introduced me to the woman I married. So whatever your games, I do count you as a friend."
"I'm glad." Jake's smile brightened. "I couldn't have predicted your relationship with her, but I requested Helena from her agency specifically because we'd worked together a couple times before and I knew she was quality."
Delilah's eyes sharpened with interest again. "Really."
"Digital only," he was quick to point out. "I'd seen her picture, but we never had any face-to-face before the History for Tomorrow project."
"Under what name?" the woman asked, voice practically a purr.
Jake thought for a moment, then snorted out a laugh. "I'd need to look through my old emails; I want to say I used more than one." He shook his head. "As happy as I was for you both, I was a little sad when she quit that temp agency I contracted her through – your wife does damn fine work."
"She still does freelance."
"Yeah, but here's the downside of the identity shell game – she'd met Ray. Ray had no business on any other projects that might have caught Helena's interest, and after involving myself as deeply as I did with HTD, I wasn't sure I could keep her from getting a peek under the mask." He tipped his head. "Now that we're playing in the open, though, I wouldn't mind getting her opinion on a few things."
"You're effectively having a conversation at least one layer over my head," BJ announced pointedly. "'Open' is not a word I associate with you."
"Your trust issues have trust issues," Jake retorted. "If you don't collect the evidence yourself, you wouldn't believe me anyway."
BJ rolled his eyes. "You want to talk to me about trust?"
Jake gestured expansively at the glass walls. "You want to throw stones too? I haven't explained because you'll just call me a liar if you don't work it out yourself. If it's bothering you that much, maybe prioritize it – but I am trusting you, so you don't have to. I only have a handful of months on my timeline at most before this whole conversation is moot anyway."
Delilah's smile was… decidedly smug. "You're not even trying anymore, are you?"
Jake's smirk grew a little wicked as he held one finger up to his mouth. "Shh."
The woman's delicate cackle was… well, for lack of a better word, delighted. "You're not."
He rolled his eyes, wrapping an arm pointedly around Relena's waist. "Priorities change." Tipping his head briefly to either side, he added, "And transitions can be tricky in the best circumstances."
"Mm, and these are not the best, admittedly," Delilah agreed, leaning back and crossing her legs. "Did you want help?"
"My original plan got thrown to the wolves with the Italian situation, and I haven't really recovered my footing," Jake admitted. "I wouldn't turn down advice, especially with some of the work I've seen come from your family's sector in that regard." He grimaced. "I'm too used to working from the shadows; the lack of proxies is throwing my aim."
Hayden sounded a chime through the intercom – that would mean Sylvia and her escort were entering the antechamber.
Delilah hummed. "Is this her first visit, then?"
"We've kept to more neutral settings before today," Relena agreed, sitting up as Jake took his arm back and began waking up his tablet. "And we've only had the one face-to-face that ended prematurely." She frowned. "Dorothy is running fashionably late again."
BJ grimaced. "She's not coming. Even if anyone was interested in peeling her off the bathroom floor, Olivia was quick to point out that no one really wants to catch whatever bug has her barfing everywhere.
Relena made a face. "That's fair." Then she frowned. "Olivia was at Dorothy's this morning?"
BJ rolled his eyes. "I think she might actually be hungover and this is Dontelaine's way to try and help her save face. Either way, the two of them were out late last night again, so if it is a flu, Olivia would have already been exposed." He shrugged. "I didn't figure it mattered enough to investigate – Dorothy will do what she wants, whatever her excuse is."
Relena sighed. He… wasn't wrong.
The door to the antechamber opened and Sylvia Noventa strode in, followed by Vaughn.
"Sylvia, welcome," Relena called without standing. "I trust your trip was uneventful?"
"France only lost its spaceport, not its ability to field aircraft," the noblewoman returned dryly as she strode over, eyeing Delilah speculatively before selecting a separate armchair at the head of the coffee table instead of either couch. Pursing her lips, she announced, "Forgive me, but I don't recognize you."
"I'm not surprised," Delilah returned, clearly bemused. "I have no ties to Romefeller or the Regime."
Annoyance shuttered across Sylvia's face. "I see." Meeting Relena's eyes, she pointedly admitted, "I thought we were going to work this morning."
Delilah let out another of those characteristic laughs of hers before Relena could respond, bringing the room's focus back on herself. "Oh my, but we are arrogant, aren't we?" Her tone was both saccharine and sharp at the same time, and the light in her pale blue eyes was distinctly mocking. "Sweet child – I'm here representing the Soleil Coalition."
Sylvia visibly blanched, but to her credit, backpedaled admirably otherwise. "Ah. My apologies; I had not realized the relationship between Soleil and the Minister was so close."
"Then you haven't done nearly enough investigation to validate the arrogance you're directing at your allies," Delilah returned, tone warm but eyes still mocking. "You weren't meant to recognize me, but Jake Miller has irrefutable ties to Khushrenada and therefore to the rest of Soleil, which I know you are aware of. Amarianna Khushrenada née Catalonia did not just sponsor him for OZ – she committed a felony to steal him from his court ordained legal guardian, erased all hard evidence of the extortion, and brought him into her home for months before filling out the paperwork for the academy." She gave Jake a considering look. "Were you isolated from Treize at all?"
He scoffed, leaning back into the couch cushions. "My room was across the hall from his."
"And by all reports you were a trained assassin by then, despite your age," Delilah mused, looking impressed. "That is a lot of trust."
"I had a favorite spot carved out in the library before I turned five," he countered, smirking. "Treize was that annoying older kid who sometimes helped me reach things on high shelves when my uncle was being boring, and was crap at hide and seek even though it was his house."
Delilah blinked, a smile slowly growing across her lips. "I hadn't realized the relationships were so old as that – it's almost impossible to find records on you before 184."
"Treize isn't your source, then?"
She tossed her hair back and gave him a patronizing look. "That would be cheating. I wanted to see what I could gather publicly before confronting you on the Ray issue." She smiled again. "I think I'll keep working at it." Glancing back to Sylvia, she pointedly explained, "He didn't fool you with a false name at any point – that amount of research ought to have been a given before you went about antagonizing someone he protects. Acknowledging the danger without attempting to mitigate it is a child's mistake. I don't care a whit for physical age, but if you act like a girl, I will treat you as one."
The Noventa duchess stared back impassively for a moment, face haughty and still… before letting out a soft sigh and conceding with a nod. "You make an excellent point. My apologies again, lady…?"
"Call me Lily," Delilah decided, smiling dangerously as she lounged instead of making any offer of greeting. "Let me know when you understand why, and we can start again on better footing."
Sylvia took another long, slow breath, face as still as a glacier… and let out a longer sigh before nodding again, deeper this time. "I understand. Thank you." Turning her attention back on Relena, she pursed her lips and appeared to consider something for a long moment… before her body language shifted to something slightly more casual. "I was hoping you could tell me the odds for getting a few of those agricultural stations Revenant Rubato is supposedly building for the Pacific."
"I wanted to talk to you before beginning a formal dialogue with them," Relena returned, more than happy to move past the battle of wills. "The Revenants are as new to me as anyone else, and the Pacific theater is very much your court, not mine. Approaching them with separate proposals simultaneously would be best, I believe."
Sylvia frowned. "You truly don't have anything on them?"
Relena pursed her lips. "Nothing useful. I have secondary confirmation that they are both genuine in their claims and have adequate funding, but little else." Delilah would soon know their deductions about Rubato's association to Robby Stanton's sect of Cambyses, but there was no need to share that information with Sylvia. Even if she had trusted the other noblewoman, there were too many problems with the theory to call it leakproof. All they really knew was that Razo recognized Blue as someone named Bern, that at least a significant portion of the group that had fled Libya with Stanton had decided to stay together after reaching Europe, and that a number of Cambyses men that had earned amnesty through the Strike Force were being welcomed into Revenant Rubato. It was a significant amount of evidence, but still circumstantial.
Revenants. Des had made a comment before, wondering if Junior was the ghost they were named for, or if they all were all men come back to life… and if they were Stanton and his runaways, then the name certainly fit well indeed. But that solution was also too simple – they had begun making waves before Junior had found his inheritance, with a not insignificant amount of money changing hands, when Stanton's men would have emerged from Africa with nothing… To say nothing of a thousand other unknowns.
At the end of the day, she didn't see how it mattered. Razo had pointedly said he would not refrain from telling Jovaughn Lluvia what they now knew or suspected in regards to Rubato. He had insisted that it went no further than that in either direction, that he was not interested in being an intermediary and had officially joined the Soleil Coalition under David's auspices, but was clear that the Revenants would soon be aware of her faction's suspicions, if they weren't already.
That was fine. Relena had every intention of proving she didn't care about their history through her actions. She might be intrigued from a visceral perspective because of both Jake's familial connection and the phenomenon of Robby Stanton himself, but on a professional level, she had every desire to see them prove their mission statements.
Once a little trust had been earned on the global scale, they could address the more personal aspects – provided they didn't reach that point through other means beforehand. Really, the more openly Rubato moved, the less she thought Jake had to worry about.
Sylvia's eyes were narrowing. "How did you confirm the funding without learning more than that?"
"RLTT connections," Relena explained.
"But they won't tell you more than that?"
"RLTT doesn't know more than that," she corrected. "The Revenants are truly a dark horse on the scene, but they have a few business partners in common with Rhea Lowe's Tomorrow Today Fund and we were able to confirm a few facts through those associations." She offered up a wry smile. "So far, that's still more than anyone else, and it'll have to do."
Sylvia pursed her lips. "Rhea Lowe?" She shook her head. "It's almost a letdown, to find out those secretive initials are just a name. Dorothy said it was run by a man, though."
"It is," Relena agreed simply.
There was a drawn out silence as Sylvia clearly waited for more… and found herself disappointed. "That's it?"
"Didn't you just get lectured on how to not be an entitled brat?" Jake asked.
"Aren't you out of uniform?" she snapped back immediately.
"Since I handed in my resignation last month? No, I'm not." His tone was dry.
Sylvia's eyes narrowed. "I suppose you're with the Coalition too, then?"
"Nope," he argued, popping the p and giving her a more malicious smile. "Did you want a shovel for this hole you're digging?"
"I don't know, she's doing a good enough job with just her mouth," Delilah mused, leaning forward to check the tea again.
Enough. "Sylvia, Jake doesn't work for anyone – if he claims he does, it's a front. As I said before, he's here because I've asked him to be, and he resigned his commission because it suited both his and my purposes."
"He's an assassin and a spy," the other woman grated out.
"I'm aware, and I caught him red-handed at the latter. I also know how anxious he gets about people touching him, some hilariously embarrassing stories about Treize, and the five best places to knife someone so they can't chase me more than a few yards. I know the basics of most of the black ops Treize sent him on, and I know exactly what evidence OZ gained on Field Marshall Noventa before they decided against moving against him in 189." She trained a level-look on her, trying to impress the gravitas of her words. "I know, Sylvia."
Sylvia just… kept staring, eyes as hollow as they were hard.
Jake's posture changed, and he frowned gently, leaning forward. "I left the Specials in 191, and I stopped doing even the occasional bit of dirty work for them by the end of 193, after Demetri died and Treize stepped up to command." He sighed, relaxing his shoulders more, and added, "I left because I wanted the option of saying no if I didn't agree with the reasoning, and I didn't end the working relationship because Treize stopped trying to pull me for this or that job –I just said he could put his big boy pants on and figure it out himself." Rolling his eyes and leaning back again, he added, "I don't actually like assassination, or wet work."
"You're very good at both," Sylvia pointed out quietly, still staring.
"Yeah, because my uncle was kinda fucked in the head and it took me a long time to understand how complicated life actually was. Then I was in a good position to say what happened moving forward, so I stuck with it for as long as I thought it made sense before finding better ways."
"Spying?" she asked, eyes looking even more hollow.
"Often," he agreed. "Among other things. When the nutcases on Libra tried recruiting me and I thought it was too good an infiltration opportunity to pass up, I'd just gotten ahold of Howard Oclaire to sign on as support crew on Peacemillion – and that wouldn't have been spy work." He shrugged. "Instead I just told him where I was going, and secured a few frequencies to give him intel when I found the opportunity."
"And he trusted you?" Sylvia demanded skeptically, looking a little softer now, but just as… done.
"We got pretty close during Peacemillion's construction, so yes." He snorted. "Howard considers himself the honorary godfather of the dispossessed – I think he goes out of his way to collect jaded brats like me."
Relena couldn't help but notice the way Delilah's eyes lit up at the confirmation of yet another RLTT association. She didn't dare turn to check BJ's reaction with how tense the conversation was around her, though – not that she would get anything if she had, since the man undoubtedly had his work face on. Instead, she just smiled serenely in answer to Delilah's amused glance and made an affirmative gesture when the other woman lifted the teapot in question.
By the end of the day, she suspected BJ would finish the same research she and Mai had done immediately after meeting Delilah that first time, and see the intricate web between her boyfriend and the Tomorrow Today Fund… likely drawing the same conclusion she had, that he was a scout or proxy for the proprietor. Jake had since confirmed that he had layered the facts in such a way that that should be the obvious conclusion, so long as someone was inclined to overthink the issue. BJ was unlikely to be impulsive enough to leap straight for the prize the way Mai had… not to mention that very few people with access to Jake's pocketbook would choose to live the way he did.
'Let them ease into it,' Jake had said. 'I suspect I'll be going public before your birthday in any case. Show instead of tell, and we'll earn a little friendship instead of grudging acceptance.'
Though that might be a stretch, with Sylvia.
"He trusted you for work on Peacemillion?"
"I came well recommended? Also, you do realize that I say I left OZ because Treize didn't take issue, but technically speaking? I deserted. I was just difficult enough to deal with by then and had enough dirt on everyone who might try standing on principle that they decided 'good riddance' and didn't bother with pursuit."
Sylvia scoffed. "With how well you apparently know the Catalonias, I thought you were going to say Demetri did you the favor."
"No one knew General Catalonia," Jake immediately insisted. "Not his wife, not his daughter, not his nephew or even his sister, though she came closest. The rest of Romefeller practically treated the man like a god because he behaved like one, thinking on another plane of existence. He was an enigma at the best of times." He shook his head. "You have no idea how lucky we are that Dorothy inherited as much of Delaina's heart and sass as she did Demetri's brain. I don't know if the world could have handled two generations of that in a row – he made my uncle look lucid and compassionate."
The duchess sighed, slumping a little more. "That, I will acknowledge. Dorothy is… a significant improvement on her line." Pursing her lips, she added, "But I still don't trust you."
"Trust takes time," Jake agreed. "For the record, I was alarmed when Relena said she wanted to work with you too. Ventai was practically the boogeyman, when I was a kid." His mouth twisted. "But I can swear that I had nothing to do with his death. I was in deep space at the time and didn't hear anything about the nightmare at New Edward's until the news broke about how successful Operation Daybreak had been."
Sylvia sniffed… but then gave a sharp nod. "I can accept that too." Taking the teacup Delilah was offering, she sniffed again in an effort to gather herself, then fully righted her posture, again the domineering noblewoman. "Thank-you."
"So, let's lock down the next step for the Pacific Reclamation, both to do with press and to settle our goals for interacting with Rubato," Relena announced as she accepted her own teacup from Jake, deciding to just… ignore that whole conversation for now. "If we took the Nueva Terra route to the more troublesome areas in the Pacific, we likely won't see forward movement until March."
"On the other hand, it should move much faster than what we've seen so far, which is already faster than was quoted," Jake continued, settling back with his own cup. "The Sahara is going through what Maraggos calls a 'full rewrite', while the concerns in the Pacific are more about how heavily salted the land might be after the floods, alongside other points of soil fertility." He smiled into his cup. "And she's actually agreed to look into the state of the ocean for free, though I think that's mostly professional pride."
"Oh?" Delilah asked curiously, eyes dancing as she watched him.
He shrugged elegantly, and Relena hid a smile at the way Sylvia's attention snapped at the more aristocratic body language. "Nueva Terra first made a name for itself for cleaning up the Gulf of Mexico, but her most impressive work started in mid 192 on the entire eastern Pacific coastline – she won't clarify how, but s far as anyone can tell, she ended red tides. Afterwards, she went incommunicado for some kind of deep-sea work for a long while and I'm not really clear on the details, but, well…" He tipped his head to one side before abruptly declaring, "Zechs really fucked up her ocean, and I think she took it personally."
Sylvia's look was dubious. "Her ocean, is it?"
Jake's expression was half amused, half grimace. "Rochelle would say she's clearly the one who cares the most about it, and all the countries already agreed international waters don't belong to anyone else, so…" Another distinctly elegant shrug. "I'm not inclined to complain about the results, and she's inclined to take China's permission for the Reclamation as a personal invitation. She's proven her character enough times to earn a little faith, so I figure we're just going to roll with it."
Sylvia grimaced too, nodding… then became distinctly annoyed that she was agreeing with him. "Nueva Terra is worth any push and pull she demands, let alone something so minimal." Sipping her own tea, she added, "But whatever her work, I'm still interested in Rubato's oceanic agricultural stations. They're a solid reserve if the initial waves of repopulation go poorly, and if they're excessive, the crops can be sent elsewhere with tariff gains for the newly developing nations."
"I agree completely, and it shouldn't be hard to present that favorably to RLTT," Relena concurred, setting her cup back down and reaching for the tablet Jake had been fiddling with earlier. "Let's look at the numbers."
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Culfa, Azerbaijan
"That makes three, Lady," Lucrezia gritted out, resisting the urge to pull on her hair – it wasn't nearly as relieving to do that as it had been when she kept it short. Instead, she rested her forearm on the wall and dropped her head against it. "Three, when by all word it shouldn't even be one. Either Odin's right and they're using the database for bait and switch tactics now, or they're compartmentalizing hardcore and there's something big they're holding off on the far side of the border." She sighed. "And even if it's the latter option… there are a lot of boots out here. The other garrisons we thought they were holding must be next to empty."
Sally sighed. "Well that's daunting, but useful to know, at least."
Lucrezia closed her eyes. "If our intel through the database is compromised, I'm not sure what our next step should be. At any rate, I can't move forward with my itinerary for the next two weeks." The plan had been to reinforce Ukraine against invasion from the East, set up supply trains and lay traps… but the Regime was already doing it.
Which… was probably a good thing, in that it meant she could allocate those resources elsewhere. But damn it all, she hadn't wanted Odin to be right about the loophole no longer being trustworthy. As much as she had tried to salvage Hilde's informant network, a lot of it had still vanished without the girl herself present to play ambassador. Maybe it had been rash to rely so heavily on the thing, but…
She was positive that Jake had either made the back door into the Regime's database, or had at least ignored its presence on purpose. It was exactly the sort of dick move he'd resorted to whenever Zechs pissed him off – at least, it was once she'd gotten him to stop attacking her crush whenever the prince slighted him. The fact that those petty little barbs had almost always flown right over Zechs' head had only reinforced the impression.
But Jake hasn't been part of the main Regime for months now, she reminded herself. Relena had left Brussels sometime last summer, and he'd gone with her… and interestingly, while she'd spotted him on camera a few times over the last month on Relena's appearances, he'd been dressed business casual every time.
If she still trusted the database trap door, she'd go see if he'd quit his post again. The timing for that was about right, if not overdue; Jake had never stuck with anything for long. She could tell he was making some kind of very defined schism from the public appearances alone, but without talking to him she couldn't know the details. For the sake of planning ahead, though? She would guess that either Relena's undertow had caught him firmly, or he was playing ambassador for Treize. But if it's the latter, why drop the uniform?
So… well, Relena. Lucrezia had felt that irrevocable pull before, and with the way the princess had defended him during the Amsterdam riot, pled for him and gotten her prayers answered… Hm. After seeing the footage from last December she had supposed the girl might find her way onto Jake's list of beloved, but hadn't given the idea more consideration than that.
She didn't have enough information to make more than wild guesses though – and she wouldn't get more than Jake intentionally shared through public venues without making contact. If only I could trust the sanctity of their little German enclave. But she couldn't, and for better or worse, that was that. The Munich compound was far too well defended to allow for mistakes on her part, and if even a single unfriendly was on site?
No. There were far too many ways for that to end extremely badly.
Sally sighed again. "If they're actively defending at that point, then we need to know what's on the other side."
"Yeah, but I don't have a way to fix that problem right now," she groused back, not opening her eyes. "And even if I did, it wouldn't cover the scenario where this is preemptive." You know, like exactly what we were planning on doing.
The leader of the Insurgence made an annoyed noise. "Damn it all."
Lucrezia just sighed again. Their information on the East was limited… and a good portion of it was based on that database loophole once again. If that avenue was closing? They didn't have the right kind of people to try to insert as spies into Eastern territory. They would effectively be blind.
…She bet Jake knew more. But that put her back on the merry-go-round of how to make contact there – combined with the whole 'Are we ready to deal with Treize yet?' concern that Sally wouldn't let go.
If we have to run blind for too long, we're going to be desperate enough to deal with Treize a lot sooner than Sally's comfortable with.
She sighed, trying to run through options. "We could start a scouting range further along the border, and see how far it goes until the reinforcement peters out," she suggested, dismissing the idea almost as soon as it was out of her mouth. "But I'm not sure there's much point – the numbers are already tight, based on what we know the Regime took to space. It would be a lot of work with a relatively high risk of discovery to confirm something we already know." I might be better off training more pilots, especially with the initial numbers Howard's been able to send for projected Taurus construction. Quatre had really pulled out all the stops, there.
However, as amazing as the Taurus model was? It was still only as good as the pilot.
"I defer to you on these matters," Sally assured her, sounding as tired as Lu felt. "My military career was short-lived, in fair part because I couldn't finagle how to allocate the resources appropriately."
It was true – Sally thought too much like a doctor to make an effective general, even without accounting for her lack of education on military strategy.
Making a face, she bit back another sigh. "As it stands, my current itinerary is FUBAR," she decided. "The rest, I'll get back to you once I've combed through some alternative options."
"You got it. Keep me posted."
"Will do. Bye."
"Bye."
Tapping her earpiece to end the call, Lucrezia sighed again… and twisted around to brace her back against the wall instead of her arm and think.
Barring an alliance or more footwork than she could afford – and could only maybe pull off at all – more intel on the East was out of reach. That admission hurt, but it wasn't insurmountable, especially given her other advantages. After all, while she would like more intel so she could move her troops with better precision, she also had a gundam. And come May, she was going to have a total of five gundams – provided she ever got Hilde the fuck out of Italy, at least. Whatever game Duo was playing with handing over the blueprints on Deathscythe Hell, Howard had said he was definitely out of the game. Odin seemed to have mixed feelings on the matter, but he also wasn't willing to do more than shrug and stare at the ceiling when topics came too close to Duo. Apparently contact with the L2 pilot had come with a number of exacting clauses that no one was keen to break.
That was fine – if he wanted to stay out, then that was exactly where he ought to be. But if he was out, the only one she might trust in his gundam's cockpit was Hilde or herself – and she was getting her own gundam, this round. Xutao could handle the Heavyarms mod just fine, but Howard had been clear that Deathscythe was another beast entirely. Even Hilde would have to do considerable training to pull half of the finesse Duo had graced the machine with, which, well…
Planning for the worst without unforeseen circumstances, she was supposed to have a total of four gundams and elite pilots by May, which was something no one else could come close to. Treize seemed to have a gundam now and Zechs still had Epyon, but unless they were pulling off something on Quatre's scale entirely behind the scenes, that was it. And if they planned this right, the boys would continue to keep each other busy in space while she and Relena straddled the line between conqueror and shield dirtside. Zechs apparently had General Lee massing troops at the northwest border with the East – possibly defending some kind of weak point. Fine, then he can do that part of my job for me. She hadn't expected it, but she could plan around it and take advantage. If troops were massed here, there were other soft spots she could subvert.
…She wished the Italian situation was a little less bleak. What had looked like a cordon that might last a few weeks at most was now creeping into the third month. They had gotten people close enough to notice the damned automated turrets maintaining the line instead of troops, not unlike how the Alliance had held the border at Sanc, but… that was it. Sally had slipped a few people through, but no word had come back out. They didn't even have confirmation that those soldiers had made it in safely.
The satellite views were compromised – they either skipped over Italy entirely, or showed error messages when crossing over that piece of territory. It was… daunting.
Lee was sending a message to the East – and it was probably working, but it made her want to scream. They were hurting people, tens of thousands of people and turning a massive section of her home country into a fucking ghetto in an attempt to intimidate the East into keeping its distance. And now that it had gotten this far… she couldn't see him giving up until it was practically a different world in there.
With gundams… with at least two gundams, she was confident she could break the border. Lee was using much higher tech than had been installed in Sanc in 182, and even using Tallgeese, Otto had literally killed himself to destroy the firing line. A lot of that had to do with how ill-equipped he had been for the kind of Gs that class of suit could push into the pilot, not to mention the terrain with how Newport was on the cliffs, but… The lieutenant's face as he grinned and coughed up blood wasn't something she would ever forget.
Tallgeese hadn't been refined, the way the gundams were. And her pilots were head and shoulders above Otto. But that didn't make the memory any less real.
…She remembered Odin bleeding out, too. Well, Heero at the time, but the way Wing's explosion had sent him flying… he'd looked like a ragdoll flung by a careless child. She'd honestly thought that Heavyarms was retrieving a corpse when he picked up the body, not a survivor. The amount of blood left behind… She hadn't truly believed he was alive until she'd seen him again, a little over two months later.
Life could be such a contrast, sometimes. He had been so austere back then, and so young in spite of that, as tortured as he was stubbornly indestructible – practically made of steel, for how much he reacted to anything. And now…
A memory of the other night struck her; of him grumbling happily and pressing into her touch as she traced the intricate network of scars on his back, turning his head to watch her with a sleepily satisfied expression. Not so young now. Just as stubborn, just as strong, but far more flexible – and for all that he could be aloof on the field, his eyes snapped with dry humor now instead of crashing glaciers. And off the field…
Well. Maybe she ought to have guessed, given his utter fearlessness… But Odin had a complete lack of inhibitions that, combined with his almost animal sensuality, made her head swim. Even when it wasn't heading into bedroom territory, the time spent with him… she didn't have anything to compare it to. A whole lot of stupid song lyrics were starting to make far too much sense, which made her as giddy as much as it made her self-conscious – and the embarrassment faded more every time the man overstepped her expectations and brought them both into a mental space she yet again wasn't emotionally prepared for. The fact that he seemed incapable of embarrassment just made her feel more daring, and…
You know what, I bet he has some idea of where to go with this shit show. Because Odin was a worthy partner in far more than the carnal sense, and was used to thinking his way out of impossible situations.
"Shalom."
Hebrew? He wasn't supposed to be any further east than Romania at best, right now. "Salam," she returned. "My trip has turned out far less productive than I had hoped, and suddenly I have too much free time – how about you?"
A few indistinct, muffled words that sounded like they might be more Hebrew came through the line as well as a change in ambient noise before admitted, "I had a change in priorities and handed my to-do list off to Ardith. I needed…" He made a frustrated noise. "When the East comes, Israel is almost guaranteed collateral. I'm getting…"
Lucrezia frowned, standing up straight as he trailed off. "Odin?"
"I'm not good at definitions." His tone was definitely frustrated, but in a helpless kind of way. "I never tried before. But the Sronas can't be here when the game changes. Jerusalem is neutral now, but Israel is too small, its borders too weak. It's going to take me a few days, but I'm getting… I'm getting them somewhere safer."
She paused to try and think of what he had mentioned about Jerusalem before. That was where he had lost Quatre to Cambyses, laid up and unable to walk… after being taken in by the doctor that Quatre had tried to blackmail into giving them antibiotics? Something along those lines.
They took him in when he was at his most vulnerable, and treated him like family while he recovered. Of course he wants to get them to safety. If she remembered right, he'd been there for something like three months.
"Found family can count as much or more than genetic," she offered by way of absolution. "Titles don't always cross over, but family is family, right?" That was certainly how he acted when it came to Audi.
His sigh sounded more relieved this time. "Yes. Moira… She's not my mom, but she's a mom, and she's claiming me, and that's… enough. It's different. I can ask her things that I don't want to bring up with anyone else, and it's… normal enough to be okay, with her."
Lucrezia felt a smile bloom across her face. "That's basically the definition of a foster mom, Odin." And it was something of a relief to know he'd gained that, even if it had come rather late.
The noise he made was… disgruntled. Hedging, at least. "I don't agree, but I'm not interested in arguing the point with her – Moira can say what she likes, but that doesn't make it so simple."
She frowned. "Oh? Why not?"
"Because I was seventeen and mostly better when I met her, and she might not care, but she still doesn't know. She never…" Alarmingly, there was the hint of a whine in the back of his next groan. "No one should want to be my parent, Lucrezia. It's… not a good thing. I'm here in spite of my life, and no one should want to claim any kind of credit for it." His next audible breath was quick, bracing. "Found family is one thing, but parenting is responsibility and I… don't want anyone else to be liable for what I've done. It's bad enough when I have to explain the worst of it to Audi, and at least she's willing to accept the broad strokes over minutia.
"I don't want Moira to know me well enough to realize just how lost I was before she took me in." Another audibly brisk breath. "Anything since, fine, that's… earned. But seventeen is legal by Earth and colonial standard and that's… not parenting. She can't stop being a mom, so it's fine that she thinks that way, it makes her happy, but it's… she can't be my mom. I just don't have one."
Lu took a deep, calming breath of her own, trying to process. Wow. That… she was pretty sure she followed his logic, but there were a lot of fishhooks tucked neatly away in that rant – all of them barbed. For a long moment, she debated making the argument that physical age and mental maturity didn't always line up but… no, it was too vulnerable of a reason.
Odin's sense of accountability was one of the things she loved most about him – his acknowledgement of truth and refusal to back down even when it… led him in some frankly terrifying directions.
'There were seventy-three direct relatives of the pacifists at New Edwards.'
On second thought, she did need to clarify something. "You know your life is not fit recompense for anything you have or haven't done." Her voice came out harder than she had meant it to, more commanding, but the image was burning across her brain again of him tumbling, backlit by fire and tumbling down, down…
"I do now," he agreed. "That doesn't erase the ninety-three times I tried. If J hadn't literally beaten the idea of a more direct suicide out of me by the time Operation M started…" He let out a dark, joyless chuckle. "I might have to thank him for that, if he wasn't half the cause of it all in the first place. My saving grace those first five months of 195 was the idea that if I didn't have a viable excuse or reason for… I thought I needed an excuse to die." Another dark laugh, more disbelieving this time. "I thought if I just ended it definitively without a good reason or excuse, they would take me back again, and I didn't want more retraining. That's…" The dark little chuckle was getting eerie now. "That's how far gone I was. How stupid is that? I don't think I shook that idea until I woke up again after Siberia, and even then… You know the rest."
She closed her eyes, willing her breathing to remain calm. "Yeah." Seventy-three.
"I can't regret that," he immediately defended, his tone sounding… better. "I don't know if I ever would have stopped if I hadn't…" Another sigh, more tired now. "But if it was Audi? I'm not her father, but she's still my responsibility, and I can't… handle that. And if I can't, and I'm the one that did it, no one else needs to." He grunted softly, the way he did when dropping onto a piece of furniture, and in a more normal voice, added, "If anyone other than me can shoulder the blame, it goes to Odin and J, and they're too dead to matter." He snorted. "More's the irony."
Lucrezia tipped her head against the wall, consciously relaxing her jaw. "Oh?"
"I can't tell if it's irony or karma. Not that it really matters. Dead is dead… and I'm past all that anyway. I can't define my life by other people. It's… dangerous, for me. It doesn't actually matter whose fault it was, or why it happened – I'm me now, and the past can mind its own business. I'm never going to base my life around what another person says or wants again. I'm not-" He broke off into another short chuckle, this one was a bit warmer… though just as self-deprecating. "On our way over here from Gratz, I tried to pick up something from the reading list that Audi's… I failed the literature portion of Audi's GED when I tried it for fun with her, last spring, and I have this list of 'classics' I'm supposed to read if I ever want to change that, right?"
Lucrezia had a feeling she wasn't going to appreciate where this subject change was going. "I can see that, for homework," she agreed neutrally.
"They've mostly been boring so far, and the characters… they're not real, you know? People are more than what's been written in these."
She considered that. "But not in this one?" she guessed.
"Hn. No, it… still was. Audi said it was written for children, which makes it more excusable, but… it was about a horse."
Lucrezia blinked. "A horse?"
"Yeah, the main character is a horse. Except… It doesn't think like a horse. It thinks like a child, like a person, but everyone treats it like a horse. And they… systematically go about breaking his dreams of being free, and they train him to only do exactly what they want, and they keep changing his name, and hurting him for no real reason, and selling him to anyone who wants him as a tool, and it's… normal to everyone."
…Oh shit. She had never really thought about Black Beauty beyond what had been required for class, but… he wasn't wrong.
And the parts he was emphasizing alongside what he had already said or otherwise hinted at?
"Even the 'good' characters are just treating him decently instead of being deliberately cruel. He's still a thing, and… I couldn't finish it. I'm not sure how long I can put Audi off about it. We always talk about these books whenever I finish one, but I… don't want to explain it to her any more than I want to jog Adam's memory about those seventy-three missing guns he keeps asking me about."
Lucrezia took another deep breath, digesting that. "Well, thank you for trusting me," she decided.
"You know better than to look up to me," he pointed out. "You're not going to decide something is okay just because I'm the one that did it."
She slumped a little, smiling, though it was admittedly a weak one. There's that terribly appealing accountability rearing up again. Less attractive at the moment, but even more comforting for its persistence.
"That's trust, then?" he asked a moment later. "Letting people see the worst of you?"
Mm. "It can be," she hedged. "It's a type of trust, at least. Not wanting to tell Audi or Adam doesn't mean you don't trust them, but…" She made a face. "It's not so simple as that."
"Nothing is," he agreed, sounding tired.
"But all trust is based on some form of shared vulnerability," she added, rolling her shoulders back as she relaxed a little more. "Different types of trust for different vulnerabilities, maybe, but… I think that's the core of every relationship, superficial or deep." She bit her lip and… well, they'd started, so she might as well say it. "Mutual or abusive."
There was silence on the line for a long moment… then a long, slow release of breath. "Given or taken," he offered agreeably.
Lucrezia pressed her tongue against the inside of her teeth, waiting… debating. Still, it was Odin, and he'd point blank said it earlier, so… "Dr. J beat you?"
"…Most of the time, he just arranged it. But yes."
'Most of the time.' If that phrase isn't damning enough… The idea of what it must take to cow even the terribly shuttered version of the man she had met during the war…
But no, whatever had happened had made him into that brittle soldier.
Closing her eyes, she made sure her tone was even, verging on casual. "How long was that going on?"
"…I'm not sure. Hn. Wait."
She waited, though she wasn't entirely sure what for. It was less than a minute, in any case.
"March twenty-seventh 194 to April sixth 195."
She wanted to ask what he'd been looking up, but that really wouldn't be helpful right now. Better to not deviate – the few times she could get Jake to talk like this, any distractions would lose him to a fit of self-revulsion he wouldn't come out of for days, if not weeks. A year of abuse. That… wasn't as bad as she was expecting, given the initial implications. "I thought you were with him for longer than that."
"I was. From 189 until Meteor."
She blinked. "Seven years?"
"Hn. Six years, seven months," he corrected.
…You lived with him for five and a half years, and then he started beating you? She hadn't imagined Odin had been part of Operation Meteor for more than three years at the outside, honestly, but… in terms of memory? By the time the gundams fell, his time with J would have felt like half his life. Half his childhood. "Why didn't you run?" He was very good at bailing out.
Silence.
After almost thirty seconds, she tried again. "Odin?"
"I don't know."
Lucrezia blinked… then frowned. "You can just say you don't want to tell me," she reminded him. "That's fine too."
He barked out another short, dark laugh. "I'm… not sure the thought ever crossed my mind. The only 'option' in that vein that I considered was killing myself, and that's when J started tampering with my equipment."
…What? "Tampering with what equipment?"
"Detonators, mostly. He took the firing pin out of my favorite gun right before I got shipped out on a mission once – if I hadn't been feeling sentimental and used a different one while working, that could have gone worse. He also called it right, though, seeing as I slipped the retrieval team for almost an hour afterwards." He grunted. "That was one of the times… J's prosthetics weren't fragile. I didn't get out of medical for ten days, and that was with Remalene."
…Fuck. "Detonators," she repeated in a calm, almost musing tone.
"I've never been subtle," he agreed. "I'm surprised he left Wing's self-destruct intact, looking back. I'd guess that was professional pride, though, to make sure the Alliance couldn't get their hands on it. The kill switch on my flight suit was certainly a dud."
It was her turn to be quiet as she really thought about that. Ninety-three. And there was clearly more to that year that she hadn't put together yet too, with the repeated use of the word 'retraining' and talk about a 'retrieval team' who was presumably the 'they' he had apparently been anxiously wanting to avoid during the first couple months of the war.
The trouble was, despite how she knew this was a difficult subject he was actively avoiding with other people? He was still… so casual about it. He always had been, at least with her, and…
"Odin, when was your last attempt?" She was mostly sure she knew, but if she didn't have a straight answer on this the possibilities were going to haunt her.
"August 4th 195," he answered immediately. "Maybe… forty minutes before we met?"
Closing her eyes again, she shook with the effort it took to keep her relieved gust of air hidden from him. Nothing since the New Edwards aftermath. Good.
"…I've done things since then that should have killed me," he admitted after another long moment, his tone… dying, draining back into what she remembered from the war. "Either for lack of options, or because I was stupid. And I thought about it often enough in 196, but I never tried again. By 197, I'd decided I never would." Muffled sounds came through the receiver as he shifted his weight… and a little more life was back in his voice when he spoke again. "Nothing has happened to change my mind since. I don't think anything could, anymore."
"Good," she breathed. "I don't care what happens, I never want you to be there again. You're… better than that."
"…I'll think about that," he promised. "I haven't come close since that August, and everything has changed since then. I'm never going to base myself on something other than myself again, which… solves the problem?" Another pause. "But I'm less sure about the stupid. I know better than to think I'm invincible, but… I've had perception problems."
She almost didn't want to know. "What happened?"
"…My leg. By the time Quatre got us to Jerusalem and found Dr Srona, I'd been in a septic coma for three days. I didn't come to for another six. I don't remember the week before I went under – or the one after I finally woke up. Sam waves it off, but… it was close."
Lucrezia didn't bother trying to hide her sigh this time. To have gotten so far, only for… "Yeah, sepsis is an indiscriminate killer." Dragging her nails along her scalp, she added, "There are a lot of warning signs before you get that far."
"Yeah," he agreed. "I know. I had so many infections that year that I just… wrote it off. I don't remember when the fever started, but that wasn't new either, especially compared to when we first started running. The burns… At least burns heal quickly. If those hadn't mostly closed up before February, I'm not sure…"
She fisted her free hand in her hair at the base of her neck, but when he didn't say anything more… "Odin?"
"Quatre might be the only reason I survived the war," he admitted. "I had to fire on Libra again, despite knowing my suit was at the edge of its heat tolerance; it was the only option Zero could give me that had a chance of stopping an extinction event. But we were coming in atmo at a bad angle and Zechs wouldn't stop attacking… I cut the engines and put everything to the twin buster for one last blast. The safeties on the reactor had it going cold, at least, but… I'm not sure if the emergency lighting came on or if it just got that hot? It was dark. I couldn't hear anything over the sirens, the controls weren't responding, and then the dash exploded. I could hear screaming… it must have been me. Or maybe the emergency functions left the radio open? I thought I'd heard Zechs, but… Probably not. Then… And then I was shivering because Quatre was hosing me down with the extinguisher, so… something was still on fire?"
…If he killed the engines, it's a wonder the impact didn't kill him. Wing Zero's emergency systems really must have been something… and in the end of the day, they'd been made by Quatre, so once again, Quatre had saved him.
Before this, all she had known were the Regime reports of a team coming on the landing site of Wing Zero and Sandrock together, and that the gundams had both self-destructed almost as soon as they were discovered – presumably, Quatre had rigged a timer.
…How the hell did he survive impact? Wing Zero would have hit at terminal velocity with no power. What the fuck? Gundam or no, that didn't make any sense.
Cool it, she reminded herself. Keep it steady. "That sounds like some pretty impressive shock," she mused aloud.
"Hn." Another pause. "Probably a good thing. It took both of us to dig me out from the console. Then he'd never stolen a car before, so I had to get it started. I don't remember getting to the car, though."
"You probably weren't conscious." That level of shock was also something that killed people… but then, he'd already had regular practice at that, didn't he?
This… as sudden as it felt, it wasn't actually news. She just hadn't really thought about it since falling for him, and it hadn't hit nearly so hard back then.
"Probably," he agreed. "I don't remember getting out of the cockpit either; I probably blacked out when Quatre pulled me free."
Deep breath in through the nose… "That seems likely."
"Hn."
Lucrezia swallowed. "What?"
"I still haven't… I can't figure out how to thank him without making him feel worse. I think he can feel it, but that's not the same, and I don't know. All of that first year and into the second too, Quatre is the only reason I made it, and… I was a mess. I didn't want to kill myself, but when I started to dwell, I'd throw my gun his way, practically like a dare. And I didn't even know he was an empath back then."
She blinked. "You didn't?"
"I am not subtle," he reminded her. "And I forgot what most facial expressions meant during the retraining. I'm still learning to pick them back out, and the idea that he didn't need them didn't occur to me. I just figured he was actually good at it."
"He is good at it," she noted, digesting the rest of that statement. "You forgot?"
"It… was counter to the point." Another pause. "Hn. I'm changing the subject now."
She snorted, relieved and amused all at once. "Oh, smooth."
"Not. Subtle," he repeated, tone bland… but she could still hear the smile hidden in it.
A knot loosened in her chest, and she smiled as she leaned back into the wall. "So what are you changing the subject to, then?"
"I don't know. You said you were unexpectedly free, and given what I know you were busy with, that doesn't sound good. Did you want my help with something?"
Lucrezia gusted out a sigh. "Maybe, but I have to figure out what first. Both the Azerbaijan and Armenian sites might be a wash."
"Hn. That does sound bad."
"Yeah, and it's… complicated," she agreed. "I need to go back to the drawing board for a minute."
"Mm… does location matter, for that?" His tone was lightening, gaining a certain energy, though she couldn't pin down the origin just yet.
She considered, then shrugged. "Not really. Why?"
"Want to meet my not-Mom?"
Something fluttered in her belly, and she felt a smile stretch its way across her face, so broad it ached. Coming from Odin… Despite what he said, pushing aside his anxieties and propriety, this woman basically was his mom, and that was… a really big deal.
"You know what? I would love to."
oOo
oOo
December 24th 198 – Tuesday – Munich, Germany – Sarracenia
"Mm, anyway," Des decided, taking a sip from his mug before setting it down and meeting Jake's eyes with a steady gaze. "I wanted to talk to you."
The young man gave him a dubious look, the corner of his mouth twitching. "And what are we calling the last thirty minutes, exactly?"
Des snorted, resettling his weight. "I wanted to talk about something serious," he amended. "And I haven't been able to come up with a decent transition, so we're just going with a generic framing device, because I figured you wouldn't hold it against me."
Jake snickered, bringing his own mug back to his lips. "Alright, fair enough. Shoot."
It had been a good day overall. He and Cass had been settled into the guest house yesterday, which was a small three bedroom house all on its own. Unlike last time, the kitchen had already been stocked – Raina was something of a wonder. There had already been a crib set up for Lyle before – a solid wood one, not a portable playpen, and… Well. Cassandra had already made her stance clear, and aside from a heart-stopping moment when he looked out the back door this morning and realized that snowy shrubbery was staring at him, everything was fine.
Lorenzo was a perfectly behaved canine. On their first visit, Mailin had insisted on an introductory session where the dog had been taught to recognize all three Noins as part of the pack he was trained to guard as a last line of defense. His commands were easy enough to remember, but still something they had reviewed yesterday as part of settling in. Des had never kept a dog himself, but… Mai hadn't gotten a puppy on a whim. Lorenzo was a fully trained sentinel that Dontelaine rotated through her breeding program as a stud – her proof of the program, as it were. Lovable, family oriented, extremely tolerant of and devoted to children… and ready to kill if said family told him to. A true sheepdog.
As startled as he had been by how well the big beastie blended into the winter landscape, he'd still laughed it off and invited him in to lick the breakfast dishes clean. After that was done, Lorenzo had snuffled at Lyle on his playmat for a moment before flopping down next to the blanket to watch the boy.
If Cass had her way, maybe they'd look into one of Olivia's pups, down the line. He didn't really want to consider it now, but… well, there was a waiting list, he was sure. That might be another conversation to have this week.
Or… maybe next week.
Right. Conversation.
The awkward hesitation was… annoying. Sure, he'd never tried to start a discussion from this angle, but he also knew what the kid would say even before he started. Ease off, and lay it out.
"I thought about driving up, this visit," he began.
Jake hummed. "It's a fairly long trip, that way."
"Used to be nine hours or so," he agreed. "But it's a lot more with the cordon on the north. There was even a significant amount of time added on to the flight, because they're not letting another fly over either."
The kid grimaced. "I'd heard about that."
"Care to share with the class?"
Another grimace as he set down his cup. "Officially speaking? They're not telling us anything more than they are the public."
"And unofficially?"
"To mind our own fucking business, because it's under control," Jake returned darkly. "I have nothing. I feel lucky they even let me get my scout back out, and that was before they'd established the barricades."
Jesus. If he'd been at all unsure about his request before, that would've resolved it. "There is literally one way out of Italy by land right now," he stated, jaw tightening. "One. A bottleneck. Air and sea are easy enough, but someone keeps blowing up ports."
Jake's mouth firmed up. "Spaceports," he noted. "Not ports in general."
"And since you know so much about these bombers, you know exactly what their pattern of escalation will be," he pointed out sarcastically. "They've been ranging the gambit pretty aggressively, so far, what with administrative buildings of varying sorts, a barracks, a spaceport and let's not forget the museum."
Jake closed his eyes. "Part of the variety is that we're actually dealing with two separate entities. The Berlin, Paris, Ieper, and Charleroi incidents were purely chemical, and she's a little sloppy, but frankly too good to pin down so far."
"She?"
"We found a bit of security footage that we're pretty sure fingers the person who dropped off the Charleroi bomb, but it's nothing we can use for an ID. She's posted manifesto style announcements online after each of her bombs… but so has the copycat. The writing style has enough differences that our profilers are pretty sure the copycat is either trying to use the original as a smokescreen, or actively piss her off – or both." He shook his head. "We're pretty sure she's solo, while the secondary either has amazing discipline or is a group act keeping itself in check. They're significantly more… surgical.
"In any case, if the profilers are on the right track about the more erratic one, her beef is with the government itself and the social changes – or the lack of changes – being pushed through. Most of the substances being used are easy enough to detect, but impossible to trace – with one exception. So to find her, the Regime is tracking all markets they can access for a compound colloquially called 'Gamora's Tears.'" He held out both hands palm up. "As far as I'm aware, there's been no luck on that so far, and they're starting to consider the idea that we might have a chemist talented enough to make that, which means tracking the base constituents that are slightly more generic."
Des considered that. "Would you hear anything, if there was progress?"
His mouth firmed up again. "Probably not. Before he left, Zechs got most departments compartmentalized down to an absurd degree, and the inlets he gave Relena as concessions after we took Leia exclude anything to do with the military or terrorism. And my other avenues have overall been isolated and arranged to be more far-flung as he tries to cover his ass while off-world."
"…Shit."
"In short, yes."
He frowned. "And the other bomber?"
"Is possibly even harder to track for entirely different reasons. They're leaving a better fingerprint, but it's the most generic military grade plastics that, post-Fall, are frighteningly easy to get your hands on. Multiple intelligence agencies have their eyes on the black market, but…" He sighed. "It's difficult to get across just how much fell between the cracks over the past decade. Corruption, revolution, and straight up anarchy have been running high, and the Alliance and Romefeller both churned out incendiaries like a kid would Pez – and that's without getting into how it was worse in the early nineties than even during the war. By the time the gundams came down, we already knew there were countless arms stockpiles across the globe that we couldn't locate. And when the Mad Five went rogue, any efforts to track supply lines for Operation M went right out the window. Dekim, at least, left parts of a paper trail for us to work with, but those guys… not so much."
Des raised his brows. "I, for one, am glad they 'went rogue.'"
"That's because you're sane," Jake agreed. "Personally, I'm still stunned that they found the morality to finally break away from the Foundation, but why the hell do you think I was in deep space in 195? The first plan for Meteor involved dropping the original A0, the L5 archetype, and thankfully, that would have taken a lot of work. In any case, they didn't get through more than the first phase before backing off on it and I saw Shenlong leave a handful of hours after that, but…"
Jake sighed, rubbing his eyes. "This is one more reason I don't like working for Treize. I went out there to play lookout and sabotage the movers, as it were, but when I got to the drop point? He'd loaded me up with all the artillery I'd need to vent the life support and set off a chain reaction to dice A0206 down enough that a secondary, closer squad could handle what was left before it reached atmo."
Des's stomach twisted. "A worst case scenario plan?" he suggested. After all, if that colony had dropped… In terms of mass, the math said Libra's damage was worse than what A0206 would have done, but the majority of Libra had gone into the Pacific and west American coastlines. The original Operation Meteor would have slammed that colony down in central Europe.
"It still would have been trading one atrocity for another," Jake argued, jaw tight. "And he did it because he knew I'd have the nerve to follow through if it came down to the wire, but I'd already told him I was done being his triggerman before that, and he just… does shit like that. Leaves it in my court, but tries to lead me to the most absolute sort of-" He cut himself off and visibly reigned his temper in, covering his eyes with one hand as he breathed hard.
Des waited, pointedly looking out the window and picking his mug back up to sip the mulled wine Cass was getting Raina to show her how to perfect. This iteration was a little more citrusy than he preferred, but the smell was divine all the same… and it was something to focus on.
After a long minute, Jake spoke again. "I went by stealth and sabotaged the fuck out of their propulsion systems. Got a virus into most of the mainframes that would've totaled the engines as soon as they tried to access the accelerants. But none of the resources I used for that were from Treize." A pause. "And if I'd been caught out there… They had a gundam. My way was… on paper, it was fucking stupid. It might not have even worked, or if it did, and they realized before Shenlong launched? Or if they'd been able to call him back? Des, I…"
He turned his attention fully back on the kid, making sure none of his own distress at the idea showed, trying to gauge him. He was still breathing hard, which meant he wasn't too bad yet, but the pattern was getting irregular… and the skin around his eyes was turning red, but otherwise he had a lid on it.
Standing up, he took two steps to reach the arm of the young man's chair and took one of his hands, wrapping it around the handle of the mug. "Drink," he ordered.
"He had so many people willing to do anything for him by then," Jake muttered brokenly, staring into the middle distance. "Why did it have to be me?"
This was right about the point where Jack would put his foot in it – partially out of temper and outrage, but also because Jack had never learned to sidle around a problem sideways, which was just the way the Catalonias thought. Khushrenada was a hard one to follow on the best of days, and when it came down to his close interpersonal relationships, he became a quagmire.
He'd known Amarianna at least somewhat decently, even if they'd never been friends. He knew how Treize came across in public, and how he came out in Lulu and Jake's stories that included him. The man might have been ruthless and narcissistic, and his notions of family weren't as absolute as Jake's, but there was no way Khushrenada had sent his little brother out on a suicide mission. He might have decided that cornering him into a truly shitty set of actions that the boy would regret for the rest of his life was necessary, but he wouldn't have led him into a death trap.
Not on purpose, at least. As intelligent as Treize was, his view was far from unbiased – and considering the severity of the fuck-ups he'd made during the war, it was no surprise to learn more had been slid under the rug.
"I suspect," he began, gently pushing the mug up to Jake's mouth so he reflexively took a sip, "that he was hoping you would find that alternate option. Most of his followers who wouldn't have questioned that kind of order set were zealots, weren't they? We saw how they turned out during the war. You know full well how large a divide there can be between blind loyalty and true trust."
Jake swallowed his mouthful, then paused and took another before answering. "He could have sent Une."
"Une would have blasted the colony to kingdom come no matter what and called herself a patriot," he argued. "Which, in the circumstance we actually faced, would have tipped OZ's hand and brought the Barton Foundation down on him before he got the Alliance handled. The gundams would have come down the same – with or without Shenlong, depending on her timing – but the tactics would have differed, and the Alliance would have been tipped off enough that Operation Daybreak might never have been possible. Romefeller would still rule with an iron grip from the shadows, OZ would never have managed its outreach to space, and Dekim Barton would have remained a primary power." He shifted his weight off his bad leg, resting one hand on the back of Jake's chair. "As I understand it, the primary reason the lot of you decided not to interfere with Meteor before its launch was because Treize saw it as an opportunity to use it as the catspaw he needed to blindside the Alliance. Lu always said that so long as they were in power, there was no chance for change."
"…Yeah. That's true."
Des eyed him as the kid continuing to take more sips… methodically, without thought, while continuing to stare into the middle distance. That… was not good. Better than losing his temper, but not ideal. "That doesn't mean he was right to do it," he pointed out. "Especially considering how it wasn't necessary, because no one was insane enough to drop a colony on the planet."
"Hn. Just a battleship, huh?"
He rolled his eyes, scowling. "I thought we were talking about not-insane people." He eyed the steadily draining cup before adding, "You remember that's alcoholic, right? Last I checked, you were a hell of a lightweight." The amount was negligible, but the speed wasn't advisable. With anyone else, he'd just shrug – but if Jake's senses got too out of control, he'd slide into a panic attack and lock himself in a room somewhere until the effects wore off.
Jake froze, then groaned and set the cup down on the side table next to his own, natural mannerisms returning.
"I am pissed to find out he did that to you, whether he found it logical or not," Des decided, keeping his tone conversational as he crossed his arms.
The twenty-two year old sighed, relaxing bonelessly back into his armchair. "Yeah, well. Join the club. Treize would have let me stay on black book assignment doing whatever the fuck I wanted forever – I quit the Specials so he couldn't push the issue when I didn't agree with him. He was used to me ignoring the power dynamics when it didn't suit me, but that didn't make the threat not hang over my head."
"And yet we still have incidences like this." And while Des understood that Jake's mental health crisis of the past year had been entirely self-inflicted, it had still been Treize who put him in that limbo to start with. First with Libra, then the Regime, then the princess herself.
Of course if he hadn't, they wouldn't be here now, with the boy in the best psychological shape he had honestly ever seen. But that didn't make it acceptable behavior.
Jake sighed, looking up at the ceiling. "Treize can't separate what a person means to him from what they're capable of, and some days, I think it's both the best and worst thing about him. Dorothy's the same way – she just isn't level-headed enough to hide the anxiety when her control slips, and she's more emotional overall." He grimaced. "And a lot of that might just be because she was only nine when Amarianna and Delaina died, so she didn't get the same coaching as her cousin." He scowled. "Instead, Augustin Dermail claimed her. Demetri was on tour at the time, and had literally only had a child because no one would do business with him if he didn't – Amarianna once said he chose Delaina out of the line-up of hopefuls because she had the most interest in being a mother, and he didn't expect to have anything to do with Dorothy until she was ten. So when he came back from space and found his daughter both appropriately healthy and seemingly happy, and Dermail said she was well in hand, he left it at that." Rubbing a hand over his jaw, he added, "All things considered, I think Dorothy actually did pretty well for herself."
"Hm." Des tipped his head to the side, conceding the point… but didn't give in to the diversion tactic. "We weren't talking about Dorothy."
"I mean, technically, we were talking about bombers. We could just go back to that."
He rolled his eyes. "Boy, I'm not going to get offended about past slights, and I'm not going to pretend the relationship is simple – no significant relationship is." That was Jack's mistake when he tried to talk about this kind of thing with his son, nine times out of ten – he didn't allow for the discrepancies, and painted in too broad of strokes. Whether or not he always meant it that way, it was a damn fast way to put Jake's back up, especially on sensitive topics. "You said it yourself: there used to be major power dynamic issues and you've gone out of your way to mitigate them. That's good. It will never be perfectly even footing on that front – what you and Relena have is as close as that kind of thing levels out, and frankly? It's odd. Most people never find that absolute balance. It's damned beautiful, but it's disconcerting too."
Jake gave him a dubious look. "Thanks, I think."
He waved that off. "But that little hiccup you had a minute ago means you still need to shore up some of the emotional vulnerabilities between you and Treize – and that can be as simple as making sure he realizes he screwed the pooch and needs to not do it again, or as elaborate as changing your circumstances so he doesn't have the option. Personally, I recommend you do both."
Jake snorted and shook his head, reaching out to pick his mug of cider back up and waving Des back towards his own chair. "I know, actually, and I'm already on it. I was vague with him, but… I can readdress the conversation end at some point if it's needed. In any case, going public, both with RLTT and Relena, will cover the rest. I'm never going to be able to disappear to sneak and spy again, and committing serious violence will carry such a high risk politically that it's very likely I'll never do any of that again either. It's incidental in terms of emotional manipulation, but it effectively nullifies the concern as a side effect."
Des considered that as he sat back down and picked up his wine again. "Are you okay with that?"
"It's going to be a big change, but honestly? I'm relieved," he admitted. "In some ways, I think I burned myself out this year, and I'm… good with that. I've got better shit to do than kill people in the dark and lie about it." He took a deep swallow of his drink and smirked, adding, "The level of intrigue we're facing in just this branch of government is more fun anyway, and by the time this shit show is settled out, Lena is going to have a lot more on her plate. If she's not at the top of the new hierarchy by the end, she'll at least be very close to it, and that kind of intricacy only builds." He shrugged. "And I'll still have RLTT and any other side projects I decide to take up. It's less an ending and more a progression – I'm good."
Well damn, look at that. His body language had smoothed out completely, and he was genuinely happy – practically giddy. Relena strikes again. Though on that front… A few practical points, and a bit of good-natured teasing is due. "While you're working up that future to do list, don't forget childrearing."
Jake's eyes brightened, even as he shook his head. "Eventually. Relena would rather pass the halfway mark on her twenties before we consider it."
So they've talked about it; that's good. All the same, though? "Jake?"
"Hm?"
"Your father is my best friend, and we agreed you'd probably do better to hear this from me. But you need to realize that you were conceived on two forms of birth control, and your mom was medically sterilized before Junior came along." He smiled at the expression on his foster son's face. "Plans are nice. But this is one of those things where it's better to have discussed possibilities ahead of time. If nothing else, it reduces the stress in the moment if fate sends you a curveball."
Jake stared hard at him for another long moment before blinking a few times and looking away. "Right. Okay. I'm… very ready to talk about the bombers again."
"We've already gone over the salient aspects, I think," Des returned dryly. "It's problematic, people are doing focused work on it, but it's not your purview and even Treize's information network within the Regime has been spread out enough to be crippled. More than that will probably go over my head." He shrugged. "So, moving on to why I brought them up in the first place?"
"Please, yes."
"The world's beginning to go to shit again, and I'm already facing the possibility of getting cut off geographically. I'm moving to Munich. If I find a house nearby, though, I figure there's a decent chance my fucking surveillance detail will follow me north – but not if I'm here." He sighed, rubbing at his brow. "I don't imagine Lucrezia will be any more willing to show her face here than she would at home, but you have a goddamn fallout shelter under this compound if things get dicey." Shrugging a little, feeling awkward despite knowing better, he added, "And to be honest, I've been getting bored – if you've got something you might be able to use me for, I wouldn't mind picking up some logistics or underwriting work."
Jake was just… staring at him.
Right then, awkward it is. "If it's too much, getting my own property is still valid, but-"
"Des, you could have just shown up with a moving van and I all I would've asked was which rooms you wanted."
He let out a guffaw, just seeing that… and started to laugh in earnest. "It's not just something you do without asking," he argued. "And shouldn't you talk to Relena first?"
"Relena has no idea how many people come on and off this campus even on a daily basis, or all the work that's involved. Also, we already have a ton of staff moving in next month anyway; we're just waiting on the finishing touches on the complex on the far side of the property. Of course I'm going to talk to her about it, but the only thing she's going to care about is you feeling out of sorts with so many close neighbors. The grounds aren't exactly a private yard."
The image of Lorenzo startling him this morning came to mind. "That doesn't bother us." Given the layers of security he knew were part of the grounds, it actually made him feel better than if he had tied to live anywhere but home. Jake had the same ideas about safety as his own ancestors, and the idea of trying to either set up a new property the same way or learning to live without the security blanket he'd had for most of his life had been… concerning.
"I'm guessing you want the guest house? You're the only ones who've ever stayed in it anyway, you realize."
"It would be ideal," he agreed.
"Then just give me a date for when you want the furniture cleared out, and consider it done."
Des made a face. "I'm not moving out so much as in – blockade, remember? There's no truck. If you had something else in mind for the furnishings, feel free, but aside from Cass wanting to buy her own accessories and linens, maybe get a bigger table, I'd just as soon keep it the same. We already brought our favorites for clothes and baby nonsense by suitcase."
A slow smirk worked its way across Jake's face. "So you really did show up and say which rooms you wanted – you just went minimalist."
He laughed again, acknowledging the jab. "I do know you." Shaking his head, he added, "I'll need to fly back and resolve a few things to properly close up the property, but I'd just as soon leave Cass and Lyle here. I can get more done if I don't have to keep a semblance of living for the kiddo at the same time."
He wasn't letting strangers into his house – even before he had to worry about them being Regime stalkers, that was a rule. On the rare occasion where a specialized contractor needed to be brought in, they were accompanied at all times – but for most of the its history, upgrades had been done by the family. Leaving aside that the house was literally designed to kill intruders and had wiring and internal mechanisms that could do the same to someone who didn't expect it, it was a matter of sanctuary. So if it took him longer to get something done, that was just how it was.
Jake tilted his head for a moment before offering, "I can probably come help – we could manage it in a couple days instead of a week or two, and pack up anything you forgot while we're at it. I'll need to check our schedule, but it should be doable."
He hadn't wanted to ask, but the offer was appreciated. "That would help, if you can." He hesitated… but it was as good of an opportunity as he could hope for, so he might as well. "I'd been thinking about asking Jack, but his work schedule's been getting more erratic, and I didn't have a timeline sorted yet."
A brief flash of a distaste flashed across Jake's face, followed by the barest micro expression of self-recrimination, before he pursed his lips in a more planned, thoughtful moue. "Well, you know… if it does work for timing, we could all three make a job of it."
Des raised his brows, surprised… honestly, a little stunned. "Really."
Jake scowled, hunching down and cutting his gaze away. "I'm trying, okay? Don't look at me like that."
"It's a good thing," he protested. "This is my happy face. Even if he can't make it, the fact that you thought about it will mean a lot to him." Relaxing back into his chair, he added, "He called me to revel about being invited to Christmas, even though he knew he couldn't make it this year. You're doing good."
"I'm a shitty son and my issues have issues," the boy returned immediately. "Trying and doing aren't the same, and I'm not going to lie to you and say I wasn't relieved when he turned the invitation down. The entire situation is fucked up and most of the emotions aren't even valid, but despite knowing that, I can't just turn them off. It runs too damn deep, and it's…" He sighed, before admitting in a quieter tone, "It's a mess."
"Your family dynamic is a quantifiable train wreck," Des agreed bluntly. "But this is definitely progress. Baby steps, boy – Rome wasn't built in a day."
Jake sighed again, shrugging uncomfortably. "I guess. I just…". He grimaced. "Des, I've done so much worse to him than Treize ever laid at my feet, and at least Treize had goals. Did you know there were a solid three years after Junior went missing, where every time we crossed paths, I put him in the fucking hospital? And there was never any real reason for it, I just…"
Des watched him cover his eyes with one hand again, debating if he was going to say any more, before reminding him, "You were a child. A traumatized, extraordinarily dangerous child with resources literally no one could cap, but a child nonetheless. If you hadn't been able to run off and avoid the consequences every time you made a mistake, you might have actually worked through all this years ago – but you could, and it's done." He grimaced. "And if you hadn't been trained to extreme violence from such a young age? Jake, those emotions are normal for the situation you found yourself in. The difference is that most kids would have gotten sent to their room and grounded while they came to terms." He hesitated a moment, before adding, "You had every right to come out of that custody battle a little fucked up. If anyone deserves the blame for your relationship with Jack becoming so hostile, it's Amarianna, for not finding the middle ground or at least imposing some kind of therapy to help sort the rational emotions out from the hurt. Jack might not have had the leverage to pull it off those first months after he took you home, but she did and chose not to."
Jake's smile was on the darker side this time, his eyes half-lidded and that deep self-hate on full display across his face. "Yeah, well. I wouldn't have been half as useful to her son if I'd been able to resolve my daddy issues, would I?"
Des just raised his brows again, staring him down. "The next time you're upset about how much Jack loathes the Khushrenadas and OZ, I want you to remember this conversation." Then he shook his head. "In any case, the main reason I brought up him up was that I also wanted to remind you that he is my best friend, and that means I invite him over sometimes. With that caveat, are you still good with me moving in?"
Jake sighed again. "You, know, it's probably a good thing? More casual; less of a production than the holidays. Might go a long way towards helping normalize everything and get me the rest of the way out of my head about it."
He really is making progress. Two months ago, even if there was a good chance he'd eventually settle on the same answer? He would have worked himself up into a frenzy before getting there.
Des opened his mouth to say as much, but before he could the door opened and Hayden poked his head in. "Hey, guys…"
Jake smiled up at the warrant officer, taking another gulp of cider. "Hey, what's up?" Glancing at the clock at the far end of the sitting room they'd commandeered, he frowned. "Did Lin finish the overview already?"
"I have no idea," the younger man admitted, face serious. "I just wanted to let you know we get a priority news alert in from the Regime. It'll probably hit the news inside the next twenty minutes, but…" The kid grimaced. "Another bomb just went off – at the memorial parade in Hannover this time."
oOo
oOo
Gratz, Austria
"I'm just so frustrated," Priya whined. "I didn't even believe at first, they were new cards, and then I had to get here, and now just… into the wind."
"Ugh, ditto that," Vitorie returned. "At least you've got clues – I'm chasing ghosts out here on the ass end of nowhere."
Priya smirked. "I thought you liked the ass end of nowhere."
"Psh, don't tell me what I know," her sister returned playfully. "Everything in moderation, right? Besides, it's almost Christmas and I haven't seen anybody in almost two months."
She frowned. "You're not going home?"
"I have work," Torie reminded her. "Also, it would take me at least two days to get somewhere populated, and that's if I left right now and didn't sleep, so… not a thing that's happening."
"Ugh, that's not fair!"
"All's fair in love and war, baby girl," Torie reminded her wearily. "You take it as it comes. I just wish…" She sighed. "There's something weird going on out here. I keep running into the same crap, and… ugh, I don't know, I feel like I'm banging my head on a wall."
Priya pursed her lips, considering. "Do you need someone to bounce ideas off of?" she offered.
"Hah! I don't trust you to obey an NDA, and it's a step beyond into classified anyway, so no, let's not."
"Hey, I'm not that bad!"
"Uh huh. Also, this line isn't exactly encrypted, so triple no."
"Lame."
"Don't I know it," Torie agreed. "Anyway, if it's really in the wind, why don't you go home for Christmas?"
Priya hunched in on herself, feeling miserable. "I was so close!" she protested. "Lowe was here, but then he didn't go anywhere until suddenly he was gone, and it's the only solid lead I've been able to get since Tay left! And now…" She groaned. "Inez and Lily think I'm off on a goose chase!"
"…I mean, it kinda sounds like one," Torie admitted.
"No! I mean, it is, but they think Tay's wrong, and this isn't…" She sighed. "They think it isn't actually family business. Like, they don't want me to quit, because we're claiming this guy anyway and we want a grip on him either way, but they think Tay is reaching. Inez said his followers were hesitant to believe she was his sister, and Permilla and my mom both say she's the one of us that looks the most like him. Everyone is very sure his eyes are brown, and it's not like he could've been wearing contacts for over a year straight. And the stuff Tay felt… he was so sure, but…"
"But Tay's describing a lot of stuff that baby brother never showed any Talent for," Torie finished, tone thoughtful. "I mean, mutations happen sometimes, but that's… not a bad point. I know the two of them were always close, but emotions aren't… really people specific? At least, they aren't for me." She hummed. "Tay has always been an outlier, though, so maybe… I don't know. His rules are weird. But they haven't even talked on the phone since 192, and that's… almost seven years. You get a sense of people on a more personal level the longer you hang out with them, but… Laina is the person I key in with the most, and even then, if I've been away for longer than six months, it takes a while before I can recognize her from another room. So Lily might have a point."
"Oh, so now we have a super strong space heart with access to four of his alternate identities and accounts, who also has intimate knowledge of the Sahara Desert, a mind for military strategy, slips in and out of secret identities with ease, and is an able leader?"
Torie made a rude noise. "Well, maybe, seeing as he has brown eyes and leaves area effect stamps like a church revival. I don't know, they were dropping all sorts of people in Africa post-Fall."
"He's a space heart!" Priya protested. "They were dropping Americans in Africa – they shipped all the colonists home."
"Well, maybe he was in the Americas and got shuffled with them because he had a record and didn't want to be screened for space. Inez said she got confirmation about a bad record with the Regime, at least, and there's certainly enough of that going around. Revolutionaries are practically a dime a dozen, these days." She snorted. "Or it could be that he's linked to some other kind of crime that he was avoiding the penalty for – we jumped to activist because we wanted him to be who we're looking for, and the way he organized his people matched decently. But if you're right and he's part of Revenant Rubato now? I can think of at least three different illegal career paths that would prop up that organization beautifully that would have someone wanting to avoid the government's attention."
"Most of which also coincide with things Tricia teaches."
"Yes! There's a reason we're intrigued!" Torie cried out. "But brown eyes! Empathy is weird and I'm told he was always more conservative than interested in testing his bounds, I could go either way on that, but there's a physical problem with them being the same person that you keep ignoring!"
"Maybe they're just lying about his eyes," Priya argued, feeling surly.
"Yes, of course, everyone who met him even in passing are in on this great eye con," Torie agreed dryly. "Come up with something better than that and I'll think about it."
Priya groaned, dropping her head into her hands. "This was part of Tricia's gauntlet," she admitted. "And I suck at it."
"First of all, Tricia's gauntlet is called that for a reason," her older sister reminded her. "Second: whoever picked up the Dimardin identity, brother or otherwise, is very good at subterfuge. If you're right and it is him, then he passed said gauntlet in his pre-teens, so have a little perspective."
Taking a deep breath, she grunted out an affirmative noise, waiting to hear the rest.
"Third: whether or not you find him, didn't you say this step of the challenge was about our new martyr, not his true identity?"
"Yes, but I can't find him!"
"Because he hopped identities again, right?"
"I'm pretty sure, yes."
"But whether or not he's kin, you've connected him with Jack Odin Lowe multiple times, including under alternate IDs using Odin Lowe straight, and Odin Burton."
"And he's been impossible to pin down too," she noted sourly.
"So far," Torie agreed, sounding noncommittal. "But he keeps popping up, and the Jack Lowe identity is publicly on the founding charter for Revenant Rubato. And you've got him in the same town their latest press release came from, so he's some degree of active with them, not just a backer."
"Probably."
"So, little brother or not, you're almost positive that your guy is in Revenant Rubato – and given how influential he was in the Sahara, he's probably either the brains behind the operation or at least really important to its innerworkings, even if he's keeping his name and face out of it. Aren't there only something like thirty founding members? It's still a lot to comb, but that's a workable number."
Priya frowned, sitting up a little. "It's less than that," she realized. "A number of the original twenty-five have publicly shown their faces, and there's supposed to be one that's a girl."
"So there's your new angle," Torie concluded. "Keep all the tabs you can on Lowe, but unless you're geographically close when something pops up, it sounds like he's too fast to chase far – maybe you'll get lucky on the distance, though. And in the meantime, you've got plenty of work checking into Revenants that might even net bonus intel we can make use of." She scoffed. "And in the meantime, go home for Christmas. Nell loves you and keeps muttering morosely to the rest of the older set that her babies are growing up too fast."
She rolled her eyes. "If she's that fussed, she can still go have her own babies."
"She chose you," Vitorie snapped. "Don't be such a little shit. Janelle was two years younger than you are now when she pulled you out of a cradle, dropped Aileen in Rita's arms, and brought all three of you to France when she'd never even been to Earth. And Nell wasn't like Lily, she almost never helped with the babies before the break. Permilla says she kept calling her in the middle of the night crying because you wouldn't stop crying and she thought she was doing everything wrong."
Priya swallowed. It wasn't something she usually thought much about, but… her mom had only been seventeen when Quatre was born. She never made a big fuss about it, and she knew Marguerite had been just as involved with raising her and Aila before she'd met and married Ilario… but in some ways that was worse, since Rita had only been fifteen.
…She didn't want a baby any time soon. And her mom had taken two babies – Priya had been their parents last hurrah before Quatre, and she'd only been six months old when everything went wrong. Six months old, and super colicky.
'And when everyone hesitated over the fussy one, Nell told them all to fuck off and took you and the next closest in age that she thought she could get away with.' Permilla had always looked so proud, so satisfied whenever she told the story. 'She took you for herself, and when Rita was scared for Lilianna, she decided they were going to Earth and that was that. Nothing could sway her.'
Shame swamped her, and she curled back up again, hugging her knees this time. There were good reasons she never called her mom by her name the way Torie did Laina, even if she also referred to Quaterine as being her mom, at least in passing. She'd always been encouraged to think of the older girls as sisters as much as some other kind of relative, but… it had never been a question, with her mom.
There was also no reason why Zayeed couldn't have kept her. She and Felicia had been under a year old when Quaterine died, and Ailané was only a year older than she was. He just hadn't cared about anything other than Quatre once he was born, and her sisters hadn't been able to trust him any more than he'd been willing to trust them.
Her father just… hadn't wanted her.
She couldn't help it. She tried not to, but she sniffed a little, squeezing her eyes shut.
Vitorie heard, and sighed. "Go home, baby girl. Tricia's puzzles can wait a few days. Christmas is for family."
Priya sniffed again. "You're going to be alone on Christmas."
"Yeah, but I'll finish getting this last relay up well enough to video chat, even bounce the time zones a little and catch everybody," the older girl dismissed. "And I'll be back to civilization before New Year's."
She swallowed, rubbing her eyes and looking up. "Are you going to be home for that, then?"
"Well, no… But, uh…" Her sister let out a nervous giggle. "I… actually have a date, on New Year's Eve."
Forgetting about the tears, Priya stood bolt upright with a gasp. "No!"
"I do!" Vitorie's voice was a little breathless, stunned herself, but also absolutely thrilled. "And it's at a New Year's party, so I'd better be getting a kiss! If he tastes half as bubbly as he feels, I'm going to be in heaven."
…That sounded weird and was probably an empath thing she wouldn't understand anyway, but this was huge. "Torie, you want to kiss someone?!" she demanded. The other girl's space heart had always been such a huge handicap for her that- "Oh my God! I have to tell Aila!"
"No!" Torie protested. "No, don't, I-"
"Does Felicia know yet?" she demanded.
"No, I haven't-"
"Oh my God, did you tell me first?" she squealed, entirely delighted.
"Yes, okay, now just sto-"
"I am going to tell everyone!"
"Ugh, I hate you! Slow down!"
Priya grinned, sitting back down and crossing her legs. "You love me," she corrected, grinning ear to ear. "But fine, I won't say – so long as you tell me everything! What's his name? What kind of ice cream does he like?"
Vitorie let out a hysterical little giggle… and started talking.
oOo
oOo
December 25th 198 – Wednesday – Munich, Germany – Sarracenia
"No, we make a point of keeping holidays, barring true emergencies. Even with the nightmare at the memorial yesterday, Relena only released the public statement. Responses to that kind of thing isn't part of our department, and we'll dive back into the gritty tomorrow morning."
David smiled at Mai as she handed him a mug of the warm wine that seemed to be everywhere the last couple days. "Thanks."
"You were the only one without a drink," she pointed out easily. "And my sister bemoans it, but her mulled wine is my favorite thing she makes this time of year, no matter how elaborate she gets with anything else."
"Mm." He took a sip and hummed a bit. "It is good," he agreed. "I didn't want to get into it earlier in the day, but…" He took a larger drink. "That's because not all of us have Des's constitution."
Her eyes sparkled. "Right? I can't figure out how much is genetics versus practice, but he's not even buzzed, is he?"
"That or he's extremely good at compensating and hiding it."
"Good, just… laid back," Jake decided, tipping his head and looking out the window with his phone pressed to one ear. "Which is a big deal for us, honestly. Everyone kept more or less to themselves for the morning, and we had a big to do for supper, but we've broken down into smaller groups again. I figured once Lena was back in the room, I'd put you on speakerphone for a bit."
"I think if I tried asking him, he'd just stare at me and drink more without breaking eye contact," Mai mused happily. "I almost want to anyway, just to see how far he'll take it."
"He absolutely will," Dave confirmed. "That or just deadpan announce 'I'm Italian' like that answers anything. It's his favorite excuse, I swear."
Mai laughed. "Simple, yet diverse. I like it." Taking a sip from her own mug, she eyed him speculatively. "I can't decide if you've been avoiding me or just distracted."
Oh, so we are going to talk about this. "A little of both?" he admitted. "I wanted to make sure nothing got weird; this is your home."
"It was my home before too," she pointed out, eyes sparkling.
"Yeah, and that means the ball is very much in your court," he confirmed. "Also, as much fun as I had, I wasn't sure if you ever did a second go around, and wasn't going to assume anything."
"Mm, I avoid repeats because they tend to get clingy," she explained. "I'm not into clingy."
Yeah, he'd gotten that impression, what with how she'd laughed and danced through getting dressed, even trying to get him to dance with her, before sauntering back out of his room instead of sharing the bed afterwards.
"But other than trying to act like it didn't happen at all – which, for the record, little bit rude – you haven't been annoying. Which I had figured, or I wouldn't have done it in the first place." She smirked. "So. If you're going to get hung up on social convention, I'll go find entertainment elsewhere – but you've definitely earned your reputation for attention to detail, and I figured you were probably still unattached." Raising one finger in warning, she added, "Though that's another thing – I am never the other woman. Turn me down for any reason at all and I won't mind, but I'm no one's second fiddle." She pursed her lips, shifting her weight, then clarified, "That didn't come out right. I'm no one's alternative to a relationship – I don't care what you do when you're not with me, so long as you haven't given promises to anyone. I like attention, not drama."
He smirked, turning the idea over a few times in his mind to look for problems… and finding none. "Social conventions?" he muttered under his breath. "What are those? I don't know them."
Her laughter was delighted and downright naughty, and he grinned… then shook his head. "I'd like to clarify a few points of dodging said conventions so I know we're on the same page, but you have my attention." Mai was… kinda the pinnacle, if you were seeking a friend with benefits. Damn. "I have a reputation?"
She only laughed more and sauntered away… with his empty cup. When did I empty that? He hadn't thought he'd been that distracted.
Damn. That was going to be the best kind of trouble.
"Best clean up your face before she turns back around," Des announced dryly.
Of course. Rolling his eyes, he turned to face the man. "I don't need your advice, old man."
Des ignored him. "She likes the game, that one – keep the moon-eyes in check and you'll probably keep her happy for a while."
Ugh, he might have a point, but still. "And what would you know about it?"
And there was that oh so long, level look as he took another drink from his cup. "David."
He was a little unnerved, but determined not to show it. "Yeah?"
"I had Lucrezia when I was thirty. In between the long hours that I did for top forty companies even before I became a successful entrepreneur and started to run my own parties instead of attending them, exactly how do you think I roared through my twenties?"
"…Drinking?" he hazarded, feeling like his worldview was trying to turn inside out.
Des's laugh was almost as naughty as Mai's, fuck his fucking life. "Oh, there was that, too." He snorted and started to laugh again, deeper this time… and turned and walked away.
God damn it. And here he'd always thought of Des as wholesome. Even with the whole… blackmail thing. Just… snarky wholesome.
…Wasn't there some story or about him and Jack sorta-accidentally-not vandalizing a line-up of propaganda billboards, six or so years back? There had been something about spray paint, but Lu had kept laughing so hard she couldn't breathe every time she tried to tell him about it. And given that Jack had been involved, he wasn't sure Jake had ever heard that one at all, so he couldn't ask.
"Merry Christmas, Jack!" Relena announced brightly, standing shoulder to shoulder with Jake.
Damn, but he really was too distracted. Mentally shaking himself, be made his way over to the sitting area of Relena's atrium turned office. They'd dragged over a handful more of the armchairs and loveseats that were normally situated closer to the walls for enjoying the scenery so they didn't all have to sit cheek and jowl… though really, there was too much furniture now. They'd practically had an after dinner party up here earlier, but almost everyone was gone. Cassie, Addie, and Raina left with the children a bit ago, and had said they were coming back, but they'd apparently gotten distracted instead. Daniella and Dorothy had been whispering back and forth and giggling for a while before they just… disappeared. Leia had gone to bed early – or was on the phone, more likely – and Razo had wandered off with Vaughn at some point. The only guards left were the primary four, and David knew they were meant to be part of this conversation.
He sighed. He was really not looking forward to this. As much as he'd heard Jake and his dad were doing better, and as calm as his friend seemed to be about the whole Cambyses thing… emotions were messy. Still, while Jack was the only civilian they were telling about the whole 'Rubato is Stanton's Cambyses' evidence, they'd agreed that the man had as much right to know as Jake.
Jake had actually insisted the secret not be kept from his father, which was… honestly really cool, but also bizarre.
Having both Relena and Des in the same house as him apparently only lead to good things?
"Hey, Jack," he greeted once he figured he was within range… though it looked like they were hooking it into a bigger display that Relena must use for video conferences. No video coming through, but the speaker and mic layout would a lot more comfortable than crowding. "How was Christmas on your end?"
"Boring," Jack admitted easily. "But that's a good thing. I like it when no one tries daring bank heists on major holidays where they keep us on skeleton shifts."
The small firm that Jack worked for handled internal security for a handful of banks… at least, that was what he thought he remembered. "Do you think you'll have enough seniority to get it off next year?" he asked, curiously. He'd never really liked Jack, but he'd never disliked him either – he just hated what seeing the man did to his best friend. He'd really only gone out of his way to avoid him on principle, before now.
"Eh… I mean, technically, I had seniority this year? So we'll see."
"Your boss is a dick," Des interjected.
"Well, yeah, but he's still my boss, so I get to deal. It's fine."
Jake… was frowning. "Is that… a problem?"
"It's fine," Jack repeated. "Holidays are overtime pay anyway, and they're talking about picking up another contract, so hours should pick back up soon too." He paused. Then, "Des, shut it."
"I didn't say anything."
"But your mouth was open, huh?"
…It actually had been. David hid a laugh as the older man rolled his eyes and gave Jake a resigned look.
"It's fine, stop fussing; I can have my fun on days that aren't official holidays. What did Raina arrange for dessert?"
Jake was frowning back at Des, but took the out. "A better question would be what didn't she arrange," the other colonel began, taking lead on the call for a while. "I feel spoiled."
David watched his friend, with his mismatched facial expressions for what he was saying, and thought. Jake had made a few attempts to meet Jack halfway over the years… but they'd been half-assed at best, and he'd always copped out at some point or other. This was different. He was clearly still uncomfortable, darting glances back at Des periodically, but… Huh. Maybe he was… actually growing the fuck up? Jack had honestly never been better on the halfway point, but… maybe Libra had changed that? Because this was a lot more amiable than he'd expected. Sometimes they managed to get further than this in their conversations without setting each other off, but… there was usually some tension by now.
Jake had already been on the phone for a good ten minutes before Dave had started eavesdropping, hadn't he? This might actually be some kind of record.
Instead, I'm the tense one, he thought wryly. Jake was stunningly blasé about the whole Cambyses angle, but apparently he'd been that way about finding out the kid was alive in the first place too. Dave didn't buy into the idea that it could really stay so simple, though – Jake had blinders the size of dinner plates on when it came to anything about his mom or Junior, but he was still a realist at heart.
Whatever the reasoning, though? He was going to enjoy the peace while it lasted. And like Jake had said, given Stanton himself, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Razo and Jovi were great company, and he'd had no problems with the rest beyond being unsure of how to sidestep their trauma. Some of the stories and insinuations about Robby were frankly terrifying… but Razo was damn sure that most of it had been an act to get them what they needed within the internal politics of the cult. The only solid leads they had on the man's personality were his leadership skills, sense of responsibility, layers of hidden compassion reported by far more people than just Razo, and that horrifying theory about him being an empath.
He understood what Razo had meant, and why – and statements on the man from survivors outside of Stanton's insular little cell were… interesting. If it had only been a handful, he would have dismissed it, but… every report he'd ever read about projecting space hearts had described the incoming emotions like waves washing over them, or some kind of windstorm analogy and… Those same analogies used a little too often, when people tried to get across how crazy or dangerous or intense Robby had been. And if Razo was also right, about how clearly he'd been able to read intent, if he'd been using that to broadcast a feedback loop on outsiders…
Dave had heard of push-pull Talent before, rare as they were – he'd run around space enough with Jake to meet a few space hearts, and he'd done his research after his first contact went to hell in a handbasket. But as far as he was aware, pushing was always the weaker Talent, and usually those empaths were weak on both ends.
That didn't match Stanton.
"I'll text you the dates we were thinking of," Jake was saying now. "You've said before that you usually get weekends, right?"
"Usually, yeah."
"Alright, I'll look it back over and see what lines up."
And that's as good of a point to butt in as any, he decided. "Hey, Jack? Sorry to break the domestic bliss, but I need to touch base with you about something a little more politically charged."
Jack hesitated a moment. "David?"
Right, no video. That had been rude of him. "Right, sorry, I keep forgetting you don't have a visual. Yeah, it's Dave."
"My apartment is a wreck," Jack informed him, sounding amused. "I thought I'd stave off the ribbing, on that front." He hesitated again, before adding, "I'm also trying to figure out how to bring up something awkward and didn't want any of you to catch me fiddling before I was ready, so I didn't re-enable the camera."
He frowned, noticing catching a glimpse of Des's eyes narrowing in his peripheral vision too. "Yeah?"
"Yeah, but you go first," Jack decided. "You do know I refuse to pay attention to any news media, right? If you're serious about it being political, I'm probably going to need some background."
"You refuse?" he asked, bemused.
"There's so many lies mixed in, generally speaking, that I decided a long time ago it wasn't worth the effort. Des bothers me if he thinks something is actually important, and I live under my rock."
He frowned. "That doesn't seem healthy."
"David, my life is less about being healthy and more finding ways I can live with myself from one day to the next," Jack informed him bluntly. "And sometimes walking away is the only way to cope. This is the best limbo I've been able to figure out since 185, so do me a favor and back off on the condescension. I'm not sure you'd be doing much better in my shoes."
Well, shit. There was that edge of temper, finally, though at least it was directed at him this time? But Jake still looked a bit gutted, which… Shit.
Jack had been rolled into an L1 anti-Alliance militia after he was orphaned at eleven, and only got more involved over the years, expanding his range of skills and influence despite getting married and having a kid – and you didn't take those kinds of risks after settling down unless you well and truly believed in the cause. Eventually he'd gotten caught, and his family had effectively abandoned him… But as far as Dave was aware? After using his old contacts to trap Odin Lowe in that court battle? He'd never once turned back to any of his old work.
The fact that the man had job woes, current and past, wasn't exactly news. It was hard for him to find someone willing to take him on with the charges the Alliance had slapped him with in 178. But while he could easily get work in the colonies – probably far better paying, more fulfilling work – where employers might want him because he'd fought? He wouldn't go.
Because Jake was on Earth. Fighting for the people he'd literally been raised to despise. The reality of the matter was a lot more complicated than that, with OZ trying to eradicate the Alliance and bring about actual lasting peace, but… they'd never told him that part. Maybe he'd put it together post-Fall, but… maybe they should make sure someone actually told him that? Fuck.
Now he felt like a legitimately shitty person. And he was pretty sure he'd earned it.
Jake swallowed. "Jack…"
Jack sighed. "Don't. Let's just… not. Not right now. It's okay. Sorry. David, you were saying?"
Lin and Cassidy were exchanging meaningful looks, while Mai looked uncharacteristically serious and Rome hid his face in his hands… Des looked grim, but resigned and ready to move on. Old news, for him. Relena was focused on Jake, who.. was keeping it together, but definitely not ready to talk again, which… Well, maybe it is a good thing this call is voice-only.
"Right," Dave decided, bulling his way forward and hopefully giving everyone else time to recover themselves. "Background, then. How big is your rock, when it comes to Cambyses information?"
That startled a laugh out of the man. "I watch Relena's broadcasts. You need an exception to make the rule, right?"
Dave snorted. "I guess." Relena and the History for Tomorrow Database had been running a hard sympathy campaign on the Cambyses survivors with a pretty good reception… but he couldn't remember the details. After all, he was the one who actually knew all the details, and they hadn't been talking when she started that up. Better check. "I think she's mostly just gone over the broad strokes, since a lot of the rest is considered common knowledge. What do you know about Robin Stanton?"
"Mm, Des talked about him a fair bit," Jack admitted. "He was the leader of the group you met and struck the deal with, right? Did his best to collect non-believers and camouflage them; was going to try to make a run for it, but then you showed up? Died in the first wave, but ended up making a hell of a martyr, especially given the way public opinion swayed."
"Close enough," David agreed. "I never actually met him – only saw him from a distance by firelight, when he was scouting. He used one of his closest friends as a proxy, and I didn't find out until after that first wave that Razo wasn't in charge." That was one more piece of evidence for the empath pyre, too – the man had been scouting, they'd all acted like he was scouting and had been ready to jump at his slightest motion… and he'd been next to a campfire wrecking his night vision. Standing there like that, and Razo had said it was after that meeting that he'd said…
"Apparently," he continued, "Stanton was worried that the Regime would back out of negotiations if we got a good look at him."
"Huh. That got left out, yeah."
"The first part sounds less good for spinning them out as honest folk done wrong, and I didn't find out the second until last month, so yeah. I'd wondered before then about how none of his cell that we took had bad history with the current government, but didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth. Whether they did the bare minimum and ran for the hills with their amnesty or stayed longer-term, all of Stanton's men are good, you know? Good down to their toes – just got dealt a shitty hand."
"Okay. I'm sensing a 'but' somewhere in here."
"Yeah. Last month is also when I found out that the first morning of the raid, Stanton took everyone who wanted out but didn't trust the Regime – or at least, who trusted him more – and ran for it. Got away clean and left us inclined to offer them posthumous amnesty, because they did take out the rest of their local encampment before making good their escape."
There was silence on the line for a moment… and then Jack started laughing. "Got you good, didn't he?"
"He even played by my rules doing it, yeah," Dave agreed, grinning a little himself. "It's fuckin' beautiful. When I found out, I honestly just wanted to shake his hand. But Raz was talking about bounties and how he thought the guy wanted to just move along, so it was a moot point." He still did want to shake his hand, but his hackles were up too… and if the guy was genuinely worried about someone recognizing him, there was no way he'd come near now. Razo knew how good a sketch artist he was, so he figured the Revenants probably did too.
"Mm, I can respect that," Jack agreed. "And it's a good story, but I'm still waiting on the punchline."
Dave grimaced, looking back to the others. They'd all settled a bit, looking more apprehensive or solid than upset which… he'd take. "Well, we started to wonder, after so many of Robby's men that fought with me to clear the Sahara got membership in Revenant Rubato within weeks or even days of leaving." He licked his lips. "They're making a point, but they also balanced it, you know?"
Silence.
Might as well push on. "Then one of Stanton's guys that stayed with me recognized the non-Cambyses spokesman who's been rolling out Rubato's new programs as someone from Robby's runaways." He took another deep breath. "Who, for the record, is a Rubato founder and has an identity just as solid as Junior's cover story."
Silence.
Jake took a bracing breath. "Jack? Like Dave said, Stanton's people were all good. He didn't tolerate the worst of what you hear about Cambyses, so-"
"This explains so much," Jack interrupted, voice… surprisingly calm.
Jake frowned. "What?"
David's attention, however was on Des, who had frozen… and was now covering his face, letting out a low groan.
Jack, meanwhile, let out a nervous but giddy sort of laugh. "So, uh… I went out and met your brother last weekend."
Hysterical laughter was trying to claw its way out of his chest. Jake was white, gripping Relena's hand like a lifeline. I need to slow this down. Opening his mouth, not entirely sure what he was going to say, he let out a strangled, "How'd that go?"
Jack's laugh was a little more genuine this time, but just as giddy. "Pretty good, actually. I've had better introductions, but I spent all of Saturday and most of Sunday with him and his friends. He's… pretty cool. But there's definitely some oddities with a lot of the guys, and almost all of them have American accents, which stood out." A pause, then, "You were right before, Jake. His attitude is… very Senior. Except more laid back and extroverted. Doesn't seem to take himself half so seriously either, which was a relief. He's pretty funny too."
Jake was breathing again, regaining a little color. Relena stepped up to bat instead of putting him on the spot, though. "Oh?"
"Most of it's contextual, but he's a mischievous little shit; likes trolling people for reactions. One of the first things he said to me though, after confirming how he's a junior twice over? Was that 'double junior sounds like a cheeseburger.'"
Dave choked. Around him, though, he could hear the others start to laugh.
"Right? He prefers Odin. Was very quick to inform me that Senior was his father, not me, but then spent the next fifteen hours bullshitting with me like we were long-lost friends catching up. At least, when he wasn't going back outside to take phone calls." He grunted. "Kid's got a lot of friends, and the baby sister makes him look downright anti-social by comparison."
Des dragged his hand far enough down his face that it wouldn't muffle his voice, but still looked very done with the whole situation. "She's definitely a baby sister, then?"
"Oh yeah. At a glance she might get mistaken for seventeen, but she's maybe thirteen. And their relationship is… Jake, your uncle was more father to Rhea than brother; they only used sibling terms because their age gap was too close. But these two are very much siblings. They've got the happy bickering down pat." A pause, then, "When, exactly, did the strike on Cambyses start?"
David scrubbed a hand over his eyes, ready to just say fuck it and roll with the punches. "The middle of June."
"Hm. That doesn't give me anything helpful. But… Mm."
Des frowned. "What?"
"Audi breaks the theory, and then there's a bunch of other little things that don't make sense for it either. I mean… what's the shortest time anyone managed to spend in Cambyses?"
David frowned, thinking. "In some areas, it varied, but based on the list Robby left behind? The shortest any of his people managed was nine months."
"…Yeah, there's no way he was away from this kid for that long, and there's too much between them for him to have only found her five or six months ago. She was giving him crap about his leg, something about it not being so bad 'since the surgeries,' and he corrected her to say he'd had a bad day or two in July, when she was apparently staying with someone else. The phrasing implied a short visit, though. That doesn't disprove your timeline, but it doesn't gel either – and I don't know how thoroughly Cambyses did or didn't screen the people they took, but no one could mistake Audi for a boy. And while Odin can be hard to read, she's… exuberant. There's no way she's seen anything even approaching that level of trauma."
Des was eyeing Jake now, but when the younger man showed no sign of talking, spoke next. "So the leg injury is real too?"
"It is, but other than it being old, I don't have a timeline. He wasn't interested in talking about it. Apparently he was already expecting Saturday to be a bad pain day, and then I startled him, which left him limping and using a cane. He bounced back pretty fast, though."
Dave closed his eyes again. "You 'startled him?'" Given some of the ways Jack had shown up near Jake over the years, that… was ominous.
Jack let out an embarrassed sort of cough, like he was clearing his throat. "Yeah, uh… don't sneak up on him. Ever. Even with the fucked up leg, he makes Jake look slow."
That… was horrifying. "You're shitting me."
"If I hadn't been there, I'd think I was shitting me, but no, he's something else. And…" He sighed. "Jake?"
His friend took a long, slow breath, still clutching Relena's hand, before letting go and rubbing his palms down the front of his pants like they were sweaty. "I'm here." His voice was off but… well, Dave would take it.
"Kinda quiet, there," Jack noted.
"I think I'm in shock," the blonde returned, sounding a little shaky, but also dryly amused. "Give me another minute."
"Ah, okay. Mm. David?"
He cleared his throat. "Yeah?"
"Most of the Rubato boys are practically in each other's back pocket – and they show definite respect for Junior and happily include him and Audi, but the dynamic is pretty distinct. Odin is part of Rubato, but he also point blank said he's on the periphery."
He nodded. "Okay." There was a reason he'd tried to back Jake off on jumping straight to the 'Junior is Cambyses' conclusion, there were problems with the theory, but having more information was also good.
"Odin's angle of inclusion is through his friend, Cat – and the two of them visibly view each other as peers. But the rest of Rubato defer to Cat on a level that's welded down hard enough to count as instinct.
"So how does this sound? Six foot, Caucasian, white and gold hair kept past the shoulders, with light brown eyes and a twisting scar across the right cheek. Moves like a master swordsman and, at least while I was there, has a short sabre of some kind strapped to his low back; he was natural enough with how he moved that I'd say he usually wears it."
That seals it. "That matches descriptions I've gotten for Stanton almost exactly," Dave admitted.
"Hm. He's also the lawyer friend that went to the bank with Junior," Jack added. "And the two of them are very close, possibly best friends. Odin was muttering at one point about things he and Audi had been up to over the last couple months or years, and about how they changed their plans because 'we found Cat again.' So if Cat is Stanton, their friendship was solid before Cambyses."
"If?" David asked, frowning. "I thought you already agreed."
"I'm still trying to wrap my head around something," Jack hedged.
Jake sat forward, clearly starting to feel more like himself. "What's that?"
The man grunted. "Frankly? Cat is the kind of space heart that people write sci-fi horror stories about."
God damn it.
"He played me like a goddamn guitar to get my backstory and decide how genuine I was, and I only noticed after I started to freak out and he hit me with a freaking tsunami of pure calm. Called me a volcano and said he wasn't going to apologize, because Odin was important enough to him that he'd 'needed a deep read.'" He gusted out a sigh. "And looking back, if I'd somehow failed that little test? I think I might've been knifed and the body disposed of before your brother got back out of the shower. I startled him, and he handed me off to his friends to get vetted while he locked himself in the bathroom for most of an hour. Cat was visibly irate about what he was picking up from him, but by the time Junior came back out to talk to anyone, he was all… easy come, easy go."
"…Wow." Jake sounded a little breathless, but… his smile was bright. "That's… a lot of trust."
"He has friends," Jack repeated. "Apparently he hadn't opened the HTD file you left him at all – and he still hasn't, he just asked the baby sister to read it and give him the cliff notes. Given some of the things Cat said, I think he got the basic information at the HTD office, freaked out, and decided to just pretend the more personal parts of the package didn't exist. Apparently he thought he was seventeen."
Two years difference? David knew the barebones behind the story in that there had been known memory loss, but… he could see why that would be upsetting to find out.
"…Yeah. He was always big on numbers," Jake mumbled. "It… it was actually a problem, sometimes. Realizing he'd lost so much might…" He visibly gathered himself. "That would've upset him."
"…How was it a problem?"
Jake let out a helpless little laugh. "He was stubborn. Treize and I got distracted, and I came back to find him writing on the tile in crayons, which, whatever, but it was our fucking bank account numbers he was scrolling out, and as soon as I've scraped up one, he'd written another two, and then he ran when I tried to take the crayons away and I had to finish mucking up what he'd written before I could chase after him! I couldn't fucking find him for four hours, and I never figured out where he was – he just showed up again." He scrubbed his hands through his hair, laughing more. "He wasn't even three, he could fit practically anywhere, and I'm still half convinced that Treize has all five of my uncle's primary account numbers of the time scrawled out on, like, the back of a bookcase or toilet in red crayon."
David gaped. "He was reading at two?"
Jake just gave him this bewildered little shrug. "I don't think so? And he'd never written words even by the time he was five, but… I don't know. I couldn't tell how much of it was sloppy toddler writing versus drawing shapes he'd memorized, but it was still legible, never mind the how. I'd been making sure I remembered the accounts the week before that, so he must've just followed my example. After that, we focused on math a lot more."
"Some kind of math savant?" Lin suggested, looking stumped.
Jake shook his head. "Savant implies a major deficit elsewhere. He didn't like to talk, but he could, and he understood everything said to him by the time Jack found us. And…" He shook his head again, tone turning reverent. "When it came to body mechanics? Junior could see something done just once, and copy it almost perfectly. He never crawled, but he was walking by nine months, and once he started climbing, he almost never fell. By the time I was four he was basically my shadow, and no matter what I was doing from then on, he kept up." Pressing his hands to his face, he admitted, "I used to get jealous of how fast he learned. Odin…" He let out a wry laugh. "Looking back, my uncle handled that by having me show him everything directly, and saying that he was only so talented because he had a good teacher. But I think the kid was just some kind of genius." He laughed again. "Is. He is, and you think he's best friends with an empath?"
"…Yeah."
Jake frowned. "Why the hesitation now?"
"No, not… I was thinking about what you said, about Senior. It's not important. They're close enough that Cat anchors on his mental state regularly, which as I understand it is a big deal? Cat said the calm he hit me with is what Junior feels like on a day-to-day basis, and he was the only one all weekend that Odin didn't act subconsciously dominant of. It's a peer relationship – but as far as I can tell, Rubato is very much Cat's baby, and your brother is more of a supportive backer. He told me he agrees with all of it, but is someone who stands by waiting to be set on a task – not the idea man." He snorted. "I'm not sure how serious he was being, but he says Audi is more involved with the nuts and bolts of the group than he is."
Dave raised his brows, eyeing Jake. "Not like his brother, then."
Jack barked out a laugh. "He literally said 'planning isn't really my thing' at one point. And as many friends as he has, he's… off, too."
"Off?"
"Not in a bad way," Jack hastily corrected. "Just… Like, he literally told me if I didn't lead our conversation, he was going to stare awkwardly at me for two hours until his sister came to rescue me. And he was trying to be funny, but I also think he meant it."
David snickered, and wasn't the only one. "Yeah, that's different."
"He's both socially awkward and deeply proud of that fact at the same time, somehow," Jack explained. "He told me I needed to change the subject I don't even know how many times, but I don't think he lied once. He's just as precise as Jake physically, and he doesn't put much effort into masking the fact. His camouflage was perfunctory at best, and once he realized I didn't buy the Burton story, he didn't bother attempting to act like he wasn't dangerous."
Dave closed his eyes for a long moment, crossing his arms, before opening them again. No one else said anything in the meantime. "So he is, then?"
"Physically, sure." Jack's voice was scornful. "On other fronts? I can't tell. He deflected all the possible landmine conversations. From what I can see, what he wants is to be left alone to raise his sister, hang out with his friends, help with Rubato, and party. But…" Jack sighed. "Jake?"
"I'm still here." His face was tightening up again, but he wasn't as upset as earlier.
"He's got some kind of bad history with the Regime; possibly with other factions too. Or maybe the Regime issue was inherited from one of the groups Peacecraft absorbed on its founding, but… I startled him bad, and the first thing he asked once he had me down was who had sent me."
David closed his eyes again, listening to Jake's breath hitch.
"And when I said no one had," Jack continued, "he thought I was there to collect a bounty on him."
Well, fuck.
"That's his… sticking point," Jack clarified. "He says if he has any sign that the Regime is on to him, he'll vanish again; said he 'wouldn't have any choice.' Made it very clear that he keeps to Senior's old rules about photography, and when I asked if any of these potential bounty hunters had his picture, he said no – but also said that the last few people that recognized him 'by human memory' had been smart enough to run instead of trying to pursue him, which…" He gusted out a sigh. "I'm almost positive that means he was active during the war. I don't know if it was with a specific group or freelance the way your uncle used to play sides, but he's running from something, and if Cat is Stanton and he talked about a bounty issue too? I'd guess it was something they did together."
…Dave could think of eight possible factions literally off the top of his head, and that was without any knowledge of Junior's specialties. And he was only personally familiar with the war's political factions in northern Europe.
Jake's voice was wooden. "You think he's doing what my uncle did." It wasn't a question.
"No." The answer was both immediate and absolute. "No, I don't know if he stopped when Odin died or some point more recently, but he actually hates what Senior did on a visceral enough level that he's spooked the baby sister ranting about it before." He sighed. "At least, he hates the idea of killing for money. I definitively got the impression he'd do it for other reasons, but… well, I don't have any room to talk, and neither do you, so I wasn't going to contest it. Not at this stage, at least."
Jake started to melt a little, even as he began to shake. "Good. That's… good."
Jack audibly hesitated… then decided to go on anyway. "And Jake… Audi was ready to shoot me after Junior took me down, following his cues. But he took the gun away from her, and Cat later said she'd been going into shock. With some of the other things she said, and where her focus runs? He's not raising her like Senior did the two of you. She knows her weaponry and wants to learn more, but it's… hobbyist. She wants to learn everything, including the financial organization for Rubato, yoyo tricks, and different accents. So whatever he's done? That little girl isn't a killer. Personally, I think that says a lot."
Jake let out a deep breath, leaning on Relena. "Yeah. Yeah, you're… yeah."
Jack hummed out another hesitating sound before continuing. "Audi wasn't the only kid I ran into in that mix, and the other two show some worrying signs, but… those boys were distinctly not your brother's. What's the youngest Cambyses took, again?"
David stood up straighter, remembering how Razo had put it. 'Cory is practically Robby's son.' "It varied pretty dramatically," he noted. "But I don't suppose one of them was fourteen, average height, lean build with sandy blonde hair and hazel eyes? Extremely quiet, frankly traumatized… his legal name was Cory di Gallo, so might be going by something similar."
"…Cor Accardi," Jack confirmed quietly. "Sweet kid, and tries to be Cat's shadow, though everyone else persistently tries to pull him out of his shell." He snorted. "He follows Audi around like a lovesick puppy, and she tolerates it pretty well while playing the oblivious card, but she's more inclined to run off with either the younger boy or any of the older set." He hesitated again. "That was the last confirmation you needed on Stanton, wasn't it?"
"There was a whole lot of evidence on the space heart theory even before this conversation," Dave agreed. "Cory came with us and was what helped us craft some of the age rules into the amnesty paperwork, because we just took him in straight up. But he ran off a week later, and Razo later confirmed that it was because he wanted to go back to Robby if his family hadn't made it."
"Mm. Well, other than the signs of trauma, I'd say he's doing okay. He's got eight or more 'uncles' grilling him about his homework on the regular, but he seems happy."
Davis blinked. "Homework?"
"Through one of the online only schools Rubato is propping up. A few other names popped up in conversation that were doing the same thing, but I didn't meet them – and they could've just been online classmates he was supposed to debate with and not Rubato, given the context." Another pause. "That might be why Rubato focused on education issues first? Junior admitted he never had a formal education. Though…" He chuffed out another short laugh. "His leg was giving him issues, so we were sitting a lot, and he was idly sketching half the time, you know? At one point he scanned his pad with his phone to upload and email it to someone, and… I couldn't tell what it was meant to turn out as, but I've seen enough engineering schematics to recognize it was some kind of blueprint. When I asked about it, he just shrugged and said one of the Neut cell prototype designs was 'kinda stupid.'"
It was quiet for another long moment, before Lin let out a guffaw. "Well, you did say he liked math."
Mai was smiling, but also still focused. "The younger boy you met isn't in school?" she clarified.
"If he is, he didn't talk about it. Maybe he's like Audi and already did his GED, but… The way he watches everyone and catalogues all the exits is like Jake. He's got a cheerful temperament, but… there's an edge underneath. I suppose he's an orphan of Stanton's too? Japanese descent, west American accent – insists he's twelve, but if he kept quiet he could pass for nine."
David frowned. "None of Stanton's people had strong Asian ancestry."
Jack made a rude noise. "Then why the hell did you think Junior was in that crowd?"
"…He's like Jake, isn't he? I didn't mean to rule out mixed, just-"
"He doesn't look that much like Jake," the older man interrupted. "They've got the same smile, but it more or less ends there. Don't get me wrong, they've got almost identical builds – but facially, Junior looks like a mix between Rhea and his grandma Etsuko, with just enough of my Y chromosome to not get confused. They share a jawline and maybe a bit of the same brow, but not much else."
"So both boys got your smile," Des noted, grinning himself as he took another sip of his drink.
"I wasn't going to split hairs," Jack admitted. "But sure. Junior got his mother's lips while Jake has more of my mouth, but it comes out the same when you get a really genuine smile out of him." He chuffed out a laugh, but didn't explain… and it was almost a wondering sound.
Well… that was probably fair, all things considered.
"Jake?"
Jake… had his head in his hands. "I still can't go near him, can I?" Taking a deep breath and sitting up more, he pointed out, "I have too many ties to the Regime."
"Not yet," Jack hedged. "But I'm going to work on it. We avoided political topics, but I caught enough hanging out with the crowd to realize they're all pro-Relena. And didn't you already quit anyway?"
"Yeah, but I'm not sure it'll count for much, considering my public history."
"I'll work on it," Jack repeated. "He gave me a phone that's on some kind of secure network – and from what I can't track on this thing and what he said, I think they literally set up physical piggybacks on more than a few satellites. I can't think of how else they could've gotten these results, at least. Apparently Audi rewrote the BIOS on each of the Rubato phones with your brother checking over her work, and there's some weird shit on it too, but… the point is, I've already been texting with the two of them since we parted ways. He laid out some very clear boundaries that I'm respecting, but… we'll get there. He's not against making connections, just… wary."
"…Where is this phone?" Jake demanded.
"Right now? Jammed deep in a bin that holds vacuum and is otherwise full of rice. Give me a fucking break, I'm not stupid."
Jake sighed, dropping his head back onto Relena's shoulder. "Right, you're… sorry."
"I know you're stressed, but I do know what I'm doing," Jack reminded him. "And… it's going to work out. Audi's sent me five different cute or funny cat pictures over the last two days, and Junior doesn't really start conversations, but he answers. He won't tell me where he is or what he's doing and pointedly asked me to not look, so… I'm proving that I can listen. He's not…"
"Not what?"
"I was trying to come up with a non-offensive way to say it, but he's not you," Jack finished, sounding uncomfortable. "That sounds shitty and I don't mean it that way, but that's actually the nicest version I could come up with."
Dave covered his eyes, grateful that this was a phone conversation.
Des stepped in to save the day before that could spiral, though. "Okay, stop and give me some examples before he actually gets upset, friend."
"He lets the baby sister run off with people he's apparently known for less than six months," Jack immediately replied, sounding stressed. "He lets those same guys, several of which were absolutely vets before the Fall, into his personal space without issue. He handed me off to said guys to decompress in the bathroom without concern for the sister or his own safety until Cat got back from a donut run. He walked into the room I was in wearing compression leggings and a tank top to do his morning stretches completely unarmed, then ate breakfast with me before going to put normal clothes on over the first layer. He… Jake, he went out clubbing on Friday night on his own and ended up calling one of the vets to come get him because he got drunk – and considering the array of hickeys up and down both sides of his neck, I'm pretty sure I know what he was getting up to. The others teased him a bit about it, but it also wasn't new or interesting to them, which means he's done it before."
"So what you're trying to say is that he's a relatively normal self-confident, hormonal young man," Des interpreted in a bored tone. "Instead of one with severe control issues."
"He has control issues," Jack countered. "He just balances it better against the self-confidence which… Des, he woke up still drunk on the opposite side of the room and had the sister behind cover and my face in the carpet with my left shoulder origamied into a reverse armbar in six seconds. I have a few bruises from the takedown, but no strain in my arm at all in spite of the speed. I think it's less that he compensates for a lack of control and more that his control is that good. It's no wonder anyone who recognizes him has started running on sight, because even if I'd had a gun in hand and had been in the middle of pulling a trigger when he woke up? I'm not sure I could've winged him."
Jesus. He'd said the kid was faster than Jake, but… Shit.
Des's brows were raised, but he was just nodding along sagely, otherwise. "Then he doesn't have control issues. The issue part is when you get wrapped up in worrying about losing the control. He's just that competent."
"I think he's so much more laid back than his brother because he thinks he can take charge of any situation in a moment and that no one can stop him," Jack agreed. "And it's… probably true."
Des considered. "Cat with a mouse, then?"
"It's less predatory than that," the other man negated. "Almost apathetic, but without any of the boredom? It's… you know, he was the same way when he was little – absorbing in everything, but standing still in the back until suddenly his interest is piqued and he's in the center of everything doing it better than everyone around him. There's… no middle gear."
Jack sighed. "Jake, my point is that he's… open is the wrong word, because he's cagey as hell, but… amenable? He's not seeking me out, but I'm not unwelcome – so long as I call ahead, next time. Hell, I tried to apologize for the rude wake-up call, and he thought it was funny. He kept telling me to change the subject because 'I don't know you well enough' and then proceeded to try to get to know me better. He'll give you the same chance once he's had some time to process – the way Audi said it… He was refusing to open the HTD file the same way that you were avoiding looking in his general direction after finding out he was alive. There's some kind of deeper issue buried there too, but he hasn't given me enough to even begin to guess at it."
Jake's mouth twisted. "Did you talk about me?"
"Only in passing reference – he didn't take the bait. Cat did once or twice, but… Honestly, Cat is probably the bigger obstacle, because something about the accounts you left Junior actively sketched him out. And while your brother's still refusing to read it, Audi and Cat have combed through that file and have opinions."
"…He won't read it?"
"Apparently now that he knows the basics about me, he'd rather 'figure you out myself before reading a report written by another person.'"
Des looked legitimately impressed. "That's stunningly non-judgmental."
"Right? I'm half impressed and half worried about what that means I'll eventually find out is on his record, if it's a turnabout move. But at a glance, it just seems like it's his MO. Anyway, we've got some time for him to process and for us to get the read on Rubato's politics that Jake is going to need before he's comfortable, and I think a lot of Cat's concerns will calm down once RLTT goes public."
…Even on the longest timeline, introductions would only get delayed until after Relena declares herself separate from the Regime and the world settles out again, Dave mused. That'll be what… a year, two on the outside? He didn't really see it taking another full year at all, personally, but that might depend on how much worse things got the deeper he got into Uzbekistan. The East…
The space campaign needed to be done, with the Regime troops home and the Soleil Coalition ready to run support before the East tried to strike. If that didn't happen, if the East could overpower the dredges Zechs had left behind… it was going to get ugly. Maybe the Insurgence would stand for Relena if she took over the Regime in Zechs' absence, they had to have some sticking power by now… but it still might not be enough, if the East had already been breaking the treaty in more than one way.
Jake's thought processes apparently were running along the same lines. "Alright, that's… you're right." He took a deep breath… and smiled a little, visibly mellowing out. "I mean… I've already waited this long, right?"
"And in the meantime, we still have overtures to make on our end through business dealings," Relena pointed out. "As much as I appreciate having a plan, remember that this is only one angle, please. Before this week is out, the Revenants are going to know we're aware of their history, and we're not changing any of our plans or stance because of it, so that should earn us some credit."
Trust in Relena to put her money where her mouth is, Dave thought, grinning. Despite all their worries… well, everything really was in hand, wasn't it?
oOo
oOo
Space – Regime Fleet
Damn them all. Can nothing ever go as planned?
He had allotted five months to end this rebellion in space, even as he aimed for three. It was nearly six now, and he wasn't convinced he had gained any ground. He hadn't lost any either, but the longer he was off-world, the more… precarious the situation became.
With every passing week, the odds dropped further and further out of his favor. Even if he succeeded, if he was still in space at the eight month mark…
He wasn't ready to start considering what he could or couldn't salvage, instead of what he could or couldn't succeed at. When did it all fall so far?
Milliardo sighed, running his hands over his head and hating how quickly his fingers slipped free. It was just hair, it really didn't matter, but all the same… he couldn't shake the disgust. At least it was thick again… but he had to always wear a high collar now to cover the scars stretching up the back of his neck.
At least he had had no major relapses since the fight in Sudan. He wasn't sure if it was just the amount of time that had passed, his steadily increased conditioning, the changes in his medication, or something else entirely – but the debilitating, electrical pain that stalled out half his senses hadn't returned, even when he took Epyon out to battle. He wasn't what he had been at Libra, but…
Today makes it a full three years, now. He had hoped for better, but… this was probably what recovery looked like. The skin grafts had healed even if the seams were still sensitive, and the pain was less constant… and tolerable otherwise. His arrhythmias were rare, and while his nerves still misfired in hellish ways at random intervals, the spinal inflammation hadn't made a re-appearance in the last year. It would do. He was a nightmare of scar tissue from his neck to his knees and if anyone ever got a good enough look at upper chest to recognize the pacemaker he would have handed them the perfect assassination method, but… He could manage, with this much.
He'd have to. Relena… Relena was getting there, but she was still younger than he had been at the start of the war, and still too impulsive. Too trusting. In truth, she was doing far better than he could have imagined, but how much of that was due to the looming specter of his shadow over Romefeller? East or West, both factions only responded to threats –
and as deft as his sister was becoming at political maneuvers, she wasn't very imposing.
But would she be, if she had access to military resources? He was starting to think she might rise to the occasion, but… well, it wasn't an option at the moment.
Part of him was tempted to end this farce of a battlefield and go home – he hadn't gained anything from this campaign but headaches, and he couldn't see a feasible end in sight. This so-called 'Soleil Coalition' liked their guerilla tactics, and unless he struck metaphorical gold in the form of a betrayal, he wasn't sure that this war could be won by any tactic aside from attrition.
Space hated him just as much as Earth did – there would be no betrayals. At least, none in my favor.
But while it might be the smarter tactical decision on paper, going back to Earth without at least a semblance of victory, a sham he could prop up and claim, would be a mistake – possibly a fatal one. Romefeller would see it as weakness, and the very foundation of the Peacecraft Regime would begin to crumble.
If he lost the power of the governing body, then Relena… No. They were going to need the groundwork he had laid down after the Fall. Even if he wasn't a factor, Relena wouldn't have time to build something from scratch, not before Monteith smashed his way through the neutral zone and brutalized Europe. All of the seditious little militias that had sprung up to counter him would doubtlessly try to hold the line against the East, but without a united front… even if they pushed back the tide, the victory might turn pyrrhic. And he hadn't worked so hard these last three years to be a king of ashes.
No, turning back at this point wasn't an option, and standing firm would be an invitation for discovery – and even if he did go, the logistics… he struck on the same problem, and the risks weren't worth it. And if he left and needed to come back to space, he likely couldn't run the same gambit twice.
No, the next step would be to turn around the numbers game up here, and he had the means – he just hadn't wanted to commit so deeply. The further he went… the greater the chance that he was never going home. General Lee and the rest of his administration would handle the transition if it came to that – the Regime itself was too critical to jeopardize, and they knew what play to make, if it came to it… but there was still time.
The Coalition that he faced now was more troublesome than Po's Insurgence, however. Their exact origins were shadowy, but hardly enigmatic– while he didn't know exactly where these troops had come from, extrapolating the truth was a child's game. The majority of their suits were Serpents, the same as what he had confiscated from Barton's failed little coup attempt, supplemented with Tauruses obviously built off the same schematic as OZ's space assembly lines. Dekim's naively trusting Treize enthusiasts had obviously been picked up by any number of rogue Winners – and given that the A0 colonies were literally gone, moved to God alone only knew where, those zealots must be involved as well.
In any case, this war effort had 'Winner' written all over it, especially considering the subversive publicity campaigns they had been running since their patriarch's death. They certainly know the long game. Whoever else they had roped in, the Winners were the only ones capable of funding the kind of forces he had faced these past months. Dekim's runaways might be involved, but the Barton Foundation's vaults were locked tight – they had done it themselves and he had enough watchers to be sure they were genuine, in that. Unless someone found Mariemaia, the Bartons were firmly out of any conflicts. So the Winners had done some heavy recruiting, heavy manufacturing… and built another gundam. And their strategy thus far was excellent.
Quatre had evidently found his way home at some point – and while the Regime had a hand on the wheel for the Winner Corporation, the former head had spread his wealth between all his daughters, and Milliardo only had two of the twenty-nine. They could practically be anywhere, or anyone, and that was without touching on their personal resources and support networks.
…If they hadn't begun this chase with hostilities, he might have been inclined to sue for peace. What do I care about space? But he hadn't realized just how serious this Coalition was at the start, and they still refused to communicate with him in any case, instead tangling his navigations and nipping at his flanks and several times now attacking outright… but never sending any offers to parlay. Silent as ghosts.
They weren't interested in communication. They just wanted to bloody him. If they could defeat his forces on their ground, they could set precedent for any that came after – and if they could defeat him, they likely thought Earth would come back to the negotiations table with a weaker stance.
Fools. If the Regime grew too weak, the East would make its play, and Monteith would hardly coddle the colonies the way Milliardo had. Either Quatre didn't understand the global political situation, or he thought he had some way around it that would fall short of the mark. As organized as things were in space, chaos reigned on Earth.
At least a few more pieces have had light shone on them. Finally, finally, he had something on the group that had tried to take Brussels right out from under him last year. Libramentum. Something about momentum, and how the pendulum swings back for revenge… only the naming convention was about as well thought out as whatever had been going through Quinze's mind. As zealous as they were, they still apparently only knew enough Latin to get themselves in trouble. At least 'White Fang' hadn't included a self-fulfilling prophesy of doom in its name.
Unfortunately, however, they were both zealous and largely competent… and in possession of a significant number of mobile suits and other heavy weaponry. The woman they had gotten their information from was low-ranking and only knew so much, but at least it was better than before… and it was good to know that the Iberian spaceport bombing had been done primarily to piss off them, not the Regime. With all the facts laid out, it was looking more and more like the copycat bomber was a splinter off Libramentum that thought their former comrades had too narrow a field of view.
At least if he had to have so many enemies, they were perfectly willing to fight each other as much as him.
If he wanted to both hold his kingdom together and get back to Earth to handle them, however, he would need to change his tactics. So be it. The odds weren't in his favor… but when had they ever been?
oOo
oOo
December 27th 198 – Friday – Krefeld, Germany
"My oh my, just look at you!" Cathy crooned, grinning broadly as the pair came closer to the perimeter fence. Adam had mentioned there was a girl too, though she hadn't expected one so tall – but for the moment, what she cared about was Heero. "You've gone and grown up! C'mere and let me have a better look."
He narrowed his eyes at her, and though he didn't stop walking, he didn't speed up either. "Are you going to punch me?"
She widened her eyes and made a big O of her mouth, feigning shock to hide her smile. "Why? You do something to warrant it?"
"Not recently."
"Is this why you've been avoiding me?" she asked, amused and proud in spite of herself. Leaning onto the nearest post, she added, "Adam filled me in on how you were tracking his trail for Xu because you were looking for someone else in your old club, and it's not like I've been hard to find, the last few years." She rolled her eyes, relaxing further into a slouch. "I would've hid you a spell too, you know, just for old times' sake. You and Cat both. Not like we hadn't done it before."
He did hesitate then, before grimacing. "Adam… it was different than last time. He wasn't the same, and it didn't feel right – and because we did do it before, there was a decent chance we could have been tracked to you. It would have been wrong."
Well now, isn't that sweet, she mused. Misguided, but sweet. "Please tell me you've gotten that particular bout of stupid out of you before stepping foot back in my camp again," she drawled.
The girl giggled, and Heero snorted, shaking his head as he continued his easy pace forward again. "I thought you'd been talking to Adam – we've been actively working on 'not stupid.'"
"Yeah, but you're still boys," Catherine reminded him. "Which makes the stupid a chronic condition. You gotta keep weeding it out."
Heero gave her an exasperated look but didn't try defending himself again, and the girl just giggled more, so Cathy took that as a win. It was good to see him again, and Adam had said he'd gotten more comfortable in his own skin. He hadn't gotten much taller, but he could probably pass for twenty or twenty-one now; it was hard to see just how much he'd filled out given the bulk of his coat, but he wasn't such a scrawny little brat anymore.
He'd gotten so thin while they waited for him to wake up that even as they watched his wounds close, she'd worried they might lose him from malnutrition. Trowa had been convinced that taking him to a hospital would just see him fully dead, so they'd done what they could with intravenous fluids and pouring broth and honey water down his throat, but if he'd slept for much longer…
Well, thankfully, he had woken up. Then of course that somehow was an invitation for Trowa to try and get himself killed, and just a week after the waif had woken up they were leaving… and she hadn't seen him again until now.
She wasn't just making small talk – she'd played nursemaid for this young man for long enough that she wanted to see what had become of him. She'd heard, of course, and the fact that they were on Earth to have this chat at all was because of him, which was nice, but seeing was different from hearing.
Also, no need to be rude. "And what's your name, darling?" she asked, finally focusing on the girl – another redhead, though it looked like it had come out of a bottle. Still, she could appreciate the flattery that was imitation – red was a good color.
"I'm Audi!" Bouncing over, she held out one hand. "Odin's little sister."
Cute thing, she decided, accepting the handshake. "Cathy," she returned in kind. "Adam's big sister."
"Cool." Her eyes were flitting everywhere, and when she focused on Catherine again, her expression excited. "I've never been to a circus before."
"Well, then you're in for a treat," Cathy exclaimed. "We're not set for any shows for another week, but you can have a peek at the animals and see some of us practice." She flexed her hands experimentally, testing her range and inflammation… and decided it was actually about time to get back on that, once she'd settled these two in. "I need to finish getting used to a full standard G again, or Celeste is gonna cry." She snickered. "Maybe I oughta make Adam stand in for a double clown act with her, just for the contrast." It might actually make for some good fun, with the disparity between the overly stoic man and Celeste's histrionic act on stage. Mm. I bet I could come up with a pretty good routine, actually…
"What's your act?" Audi asked eagerly.
Apropos to nothing, Heero suddenly groaned and closed his eyes.
She decided to give that about as much attention as it deserved, and ignored him entirely. "I throw knives."
The squeal the girl let out was made up of sheer joy. "Odin!"
"No."
"But-"
"It's not practical, and where are you going to put the blades?" He turned challenging eyes on Cathy. "Tell her it's showmanship. Please."
"Of course it's showmanship," she returned, bracing her hands on her hips… and giving him a big smile. "But a girl needs hobbies, you know?"
"You are my new best friend," Audi declared solemnly. "Don't tell Skye."
She considered that. "Skye, huh?"
Audi nodded. "He's in Rubato, and he throws knives too."
Hm. She brought one hand up to cup her face, debating. "Is he cute?"
The girl's eyes went huge. "Uh…"
Aw, too young for that, huh? It was too bad – she could use another good girlfriend to gossip with.
Heero looked entirely exasperated now – though one corner of his mouth was quirking up too, just a little. "Where's Adam?"
Cathy chortled and spun around, starting to walk into the camp proper. "You'd think he raised that elephant, the way he's been carrying on. He's been playing with her for a solid two hours now." And Wini was loving every second of it, so she wasn't complaining… but she was caught between admiration and envy of the sheer stamina her brother so casually displayed. "You'd think she was a silly puppy, not a two ton, mischievous cow." He had always been good with the animals, though. The lions were what had caught his attention when he first came back to them, but after the amnesia, it had been like he was more comfortable with any of the animals than people… and they claimed him in turn.
She couldn't remember if he'd been that way as a toddler – she was only two years older than Triton, after all. He'd been fascinated by the animals, but weren't all little kids? And then that horrible night… It had been so loud. She hadn't really been able to hear anything at all over the thundering of the horse's hooves, and it had seemed like everything was on fire and suddenly she'd been flying… then nothing. Looking back on it, she'd probably been concussed, and it was a wonder smoke inhalation hadn't done permanent damage before she woke up… though seeing as Triton had survived too, then maybe the fires hadn't been so bad as she'd thought. He'd only been something like eighteen months old, and… well, there was a reason they'd all thought he was dead. She'd crawled back to the wagon's wreckage on her own, and that was where Edwin had found her, curled up against her mama crying because she wouldn't wake up. With no signs of the baby, even crying, and how dangerous the area still was…
It made sense, why Edwin had only done a cursory search before pulling the four-year-old away from her parents' corpses and getting them to safety. She'd never begrudged him the decision; it was a little crazy that even she had survived, after all. But at the same time… the more Adam grew up, the more he started to fill out and look like Eitan Bloom born again with Trisha's eyes. It hadn't been so clear in 195 as it was now, but… there was a reason Edwin had never tried to throw Trowa out on his rear, despite all the insane crap he pulled during the war. Maybe none of them had really believed it might be him when the kid showed up out of nowhere wanting a job, but… it hadn't been something they were willing to write off, either.
"…Uh, why is she a cow, then?" Audi asked hesitantly.
Catherine blinked, turning back to look at her… then laughed. "Oh! No, I mean… well, she can be a real cow sometimes, but she's a girl, you know? A cow, not a bull." She shook her head a little, laughing more. "Come on, you'll like meeting her – she plays favorites, and Adam brings out the best in her. And she likes kids anyway."
Heero stepped up so he was even with her. "He said you guys were having supply issues."
"In space, yeah. Shipments were going missing left and right, and lots of reroutes, and with the animals…" Catherine sighed. "We ended up burning through most of our profits from going up in the first place, you know?" Then the situation with Wini… "It got too unpredictable to be worthwhile."
He nodded. "And you've already got your next tour lined up?"
She grimaced as she nodded back, crossing her arms. "The start of it, at least. It's going to be a little tight for a minute, but nothing we haven't pushed through before. The trapeze team did better keeping up with their conditioning than the last time we went up, but… it's rough." Safety came first, and the gravity changes were hard on the gymnasts. She had enough of a time of it with her own work, but…
She had no idea how Adam did it so seamlessly. Most people, they didn't need to worry about such fine-tuning of their bodies, and the difference was close enough to that bouncing between space and Earth wasn't too bad. But in their line of work? Precision was everything.
Heero frowned. "Do you need more time?"
"Yeah, but it'll be fine." They were pushing it on the financial end by taking as long as they were already, and they needed to make back at least what they were spending on expenses to camp out on this acreage for so long. And in any case, they'd already put out the flyers and started posting in social media – reliability was a big deal, so backing out of a show you'd already posted was a no-no.
He was giving her a suspicious look, though, so she stopped walking and settled one hand on her hip to face him fully. "What?"
"Did Adam not tell you anything about what Rubato is up to?"
She waved a hand at him in a so-so gesture. "Only in a general way. It's not really my business, yeah?"
The awkwardly exasperated slouch was coming back. "Didn't you just give me flack for not asking for help?"
She rolled her eyes. "Adam is helping." As usual, she had no idea where he'd gotten it from, but he'd practically pulled money out of a hat on top of all kinds of favors to get them back down to Earth.
The deeply uncomfortable look only grew more intense. "That's not what I said."
"Right!" Audi skipped and bounced to race ahead before spinning about in a fairly graceful twirl to grin at them. "Cathy, he's trying to say he's stupid rich and even if you weren't his friend's family, you totally saved his life that once. Also, didn't Adam join Rubato? And people can, like, sponsor traveling shows, can't they?"
Cathy blinked at that, before turning a skeptical look back on Heero. "Stupid rich, huh?"
He, once again, looked entirely done with everything. "So stupid."
"And I am the one actually managing the money," Audi added. "So, like… tell me circus stuff." Her grin broadened as she settled her hands on her hips, stance wide. "And show me the knives. Like, seriously, I need to see this."
…Huh. That possibility hadn't actually occurred to her… but it was too complicated of a conversation for right here anyway. Besides, while Edwin let her call a lot of the shots, technically he was the ringleader. "Let's talk to Adam first," she decided, looking back to the main tent they'd stopped just outside.
"Great." Heero strode past and pushed aside the flap on the tent, ducking inside.
Cathy met Audi's eyes and snorted. "He hit the end of his talking quota for the day, huh?"
The girl snickered, straightening up and shaking her head. "Something like that. He's…" Her entire demeaner shifted, and she slumped a little. "It's… been a really long week."
Cathy frowned, thinking about that. "Not a good Christmas, huh?"
The girl made a face. "I mean, it wasn't bad, but it wasn't really… Christmas either? Lu came to visit, which was awesome since we didn't expect her until New Year's, and I like the Sronas, and they didn't mind me wanting to do Christmas stuff even though they're Jewish and Hanukkah was the week before this year, but… I miss my mom. And Odin's got… so much drama going on right now that I'm a little surprised he's talking at all? I think seeing Lucrezia is really why he's this good, he was getting weird by the time we got into Jerusalem."
Huh. Well, that's probably fair. Drama, though? She hadn't figured Heero was the type. "Lucrezia Noin?" she clarified.
"They've been dating for something like six months now," Audi confirmed with a nod. Then she blinked and shook her head. "That's not the drama, though, it's… the rich thing, I guess? He perked up when Adam texted, and I think that's as much because Adam's already figured out the whole 'I have real family that wants to know me' thing as not seeing his friend in a while."
…Well, that put a whole different spin on things. "Huh." Might explain his worrying at me too, if… Well, no. She frowned. "Heero comes from big money?" It was a strange thought, given everything.
Audi made another face. "Eh… It's weirder than that. His biodad showed up and he's not well off, but apparently his adopted dad left him a lot of money when he died? Only, like… everything to do with the dad that raised him is super dirty – and biodad wants to get to know him, and he's pretty cool, but it keeps making him brood about how much Senior screwed up? It's just, like… a lot of emotions." She puffed out a breath, jamming her hands in her pockets. "I don't know – how did you and Adam figure stuff out?"
That did sound complicated. "I'm not really sure we did," she admitted. "He's known I think about him that way for a long time, since the circus basically adopted him during the war, but the older he gets, the more sure I was that it was more than wishful thinking – he looks a lot like our dad, you know? So I told him I was pretty sure, and he checked out the pictures and agreed, but just shrugged. He wanders off, but he comes back around eventually – and it's nicer now that he has a phone, but he's really not… The touchy-feely type, you know?"
The look Audi was giving her was decidedly unimpressed. "That was, like… the least helpful thing I've heard all week."
Catherine burst out laughing. This little punk! "So sorry to disappoint," she drawled.
Audi groaned. "I am not waiting for him to figure this out on his own, it'll take years."
Cathy grinned again, thinking that was accurate enough – Adam had taken years. "Uh huh."
"I'm gonna come up with a plan," Audi insisted, starting to walk towards the tent herself. "He's cool, and the guys are way too wrapped up in their plots to give him a fair showing. I mean, Odin's trying, but he's clueless, and this really doesn't have to be about secrets, you know?" She rolled her eyes. "Why do they keep getting caught up on the secrets problem anyway? Everybody has secrets! That doesn't mean you stop talking to people!"
Cathy grinned, stepping ahead of her to hold back the tent flap and invite the girl in. "A woman after my own heart," she agreed, smirking.
That got her another bewildered look. "I'm thirteen."
Cathy smirked. "And that means flattery is entirely wasted on you, huh?"
Audi scowled. "It means I'm confused and not sure what you're implying?" She sighed as they stepped fully into the wave of warmth radiating off the industrial space heaters. "That's nice."
"That it is," Cathy agreed, looking over to the main space. Heero was clearly talking with Adam, but keeping enough distance that he was out of the way of the hoop her brother was alternately rolling or throwing for Wini. "Elephants aren't really made for the cold."
"…She's beautiful," Audi breathed. "I've seen pictures, but…"
Kids' reactions were always the best, in her opinion. "Come on," she soothed, starting to walk closer. "Come with me and stand by Adam, and he'll introduce you."
Audi snickered, even as she bounced along after her. "I should probably introduce myself while I'm at it," she pointed out.
Cathy blinked. "I thought the two of you met when they came back from the Americas this last time."
"Eh, only in passing? It was kinda, 'Oh, that's Adam standing over there' and then he was borrowing a different short-range shuttle from Howard to head your way instead of getting on our ship. Like, I waved, but I'm not sure he actually saw me." She shrugged. "I've talked to him on the phone a couple times, but I don't really count that."
"Huh, well, two birds with one stone, then," Cathy decided. "You sound colony-born – am I right?"
"L3," the girl agreed. "We moved around between colonies, but it was all in L3 until I wound up on Earth the summer before last and Odin took me in."
She frowned. "But you still had last Christmas with your mom?"
Audi slumped again. "Odin helped me find her, since she was in hiding on L2. But now… Well, she went missing at the end of August."
That didn't sound good. "And Heero can't find her?" Maybe I should poke at Adam. "Adam's pretty good at that kind of thing too, if he needs help."
"You should really call him Odin. He prefers it, and… he's started getting a little weird, when people use Heero. It's safer too, really." She sighed. "And everything with my mom is complicated. We can't look any harder than we already have."
Huh. Well, that was weird, but she supposed they'd know – and she'd mention it to her brother anyway, see if maybe they just hadn't thought of everything yet. "Hey, Adam!"
He ignored her, taking the hoop back from Wini and stroking her trunk, before taking a step back to roll it around his wrist a few times. "Go on… can you catch it this time?" He snorted and sidestepped, outstretching his arm back and to one side when she tried to steal it back, all without breaking the hoop's rotation. "Hey now. You know that's not the game."
Audi snickered as the big fussbudget clearly pouted… Then scrambled back to keep up what they'd been doing, looking back to see if he'd thrown it yet.
Adam grinned, waiting until she was at a good spot before he spun it out – and the elephant clearly tried to catch it on her trunk, but ended up just chasing after it instead. "That'll keep her busy for a minute," he decided, turning back to face the rest of them. "What is it?"
"Audi says you haven't actually met, and I thought you could show her Wini too," Cathy explained. "And…" She trailed off, because her brother's expression had completely changed. "What?" He was just… staring at the kid, like he couldn't believe his eyes. "Adam?"
He didn't look her way at all. "You're okay," he breathed.
"Um… yeah?" The girl was frowning at him skeptically. "I don't know what Cat said, but it's not like Jack was dangerous or anything. Why wouldn't I be okay?"
Adam let out a relieved, delighted sort of laugh, still staring. "No, you… you're alive. Last year, I went up to space to try to make sure you didn't turn into collateral when two different factions were trying to take Dekim out at the same time and you stole my ship and I couldn't find you. After I couldn't figure it out on my own I was hunting down traffickers, I checked the morgues, but…" He cut his gaze back to Heero –to Odin – who was starting to look really tense. "She was with you?" He took a deep breath, a smile breaking across his face. "You were following my trail on Xu. I thought I'd pick back up after him, or have back-up nearby if I'd gotten injured, so the landing I planned… of course."
"…Oh crap."
Odin… Huh. To look at him now, he… was a lot more Heero than he'd been just a minute ago, wasn't he? All hollowed out and cold, his good humor gone. "How did you know about her in the first place?"
"Her uncle liked to brag about her, when we were building Heavyarms," her brother explained, meeting his friend's eyes. "And I had a tap on both factions, so I knew just how chaotic that raid was going to be. She was just a kid, and there were going to be too many guns pointed in all directions." He shook his head. "Trowa showing me her picture is one of my clearer memories from 195, and… I just didn't want any accidents to happen." Grimacing, he added, "She was already wandering the compound alone that night too, and… I've been the kid lost as collateral during a fight more than once. I thought I could prevent the worst and figure out the rest after." He turned a wry expression back towards Audi. "But you ran from me and slammed the door in my face and the emergency protocols I set on the ship took over. By the time I found a new way out and got to Lithuania, I couldn't find any sign of you."
Well I'll be. Adam had come home morose as a downtrodden skunk from that bit of work, and hadn't come out of his depression for weeks. Mariemaia Barton. If that didn't prove how small the world was, she didn't know what could say it better.
"You were chasing me," Audi defended. "There were alarms going off, and there were men with guns running around frantically, and just because my grandfather hadn't tried to hurt me for disobeying him yet didn't mean I wasn't just another thing to him. An important thing that he wanted in good condition, but I knew the gloss was going to wear off sooner or later, and you chased me!"
"I tried calling you by name and you bolted," he pointed out.
"Yeah, because I didn't want to get caught and if my grandfather heard about it and was upset, I could have made something up about you being creepy."
Adam snorted out a delighted little laugh. "Oh, that's good."
"He probably would have seen through it," Audi admitted, relaxing a little and leaning back on her heels. "But he also wouldn't have questioned me on it – he just would've had me watched closer, which I also didn't want, so…" She shrugged. "I don't know, everything was kinda lose-lose on X18999. My grandfather was sorta terrifying, and even though the soldiers were nice enough, I wasn't actually in on the paternity scam enough to lean the situation in my favor. I figured that as soon as they realized it was a con, things were going to get ugly. I'd been trying to figure out a way out before everything got spooky that night, and your ship was just there." She made a face. "That thing was practically a lifeboat. I didn't think about it at the time, but how did you get it to go to Earth like that? It shouldn't have been able to do it."
Adam was frowning now, looking… faintly confused. "Paternity scam?"
Audi just rolled her eyes. "Yeah. My mom never told anyone who my dad was – all she's ever told even me is that he's dead. So if my grandfather couldn't figure it out for the first decade of my life and she never told anybody, how did he suddenly just know? I figure he decided I looked enough like some martyr to be useful for his latest scheme and he started spreading the rumors, then stole me from my nanny before my mom pulled out of her post-war depression enough to realize what was up."
Adam still had his eyes narrowed, clearly thinking hard. "Huh."
Odin sighed, relaxing and walking closer. "That's all Leia would ever say to me too," he agreed. "She didn't like the topic broached at all – just said that he died in the Fall. I don't even know if it was in space or during the aftermath."
Her brother focused on him again. "You've talked to Leia?"
"I lived with Leia for three months after we found her last year," he confirmed dryly. "She helped arrange the reconstructive surgery I needed for my leg, and I stayed there through the recovery. She had Marie leave with me last May because she was worried the Regime might still find her for leverage against the Barton foundation – and then in August, they did."
"…Huh." He blinked a few times, then shrugged. "It being a lie hadn't occurred to me, but… well, you pooled information with Leia, so…" He snorted out another laugh, leaning forward. "That…" He laughed a little more. "That is rich." He let out another snort as Wini came trotting up with her hoop, and quickly rolled it in the opposite direction with a curve, sending her back after it with a trumpet.
Odin sighed again, crossing his arms. "I was hoping no one could recognize her anymore. She's grown a lot."
"I literally spent two weeks frantically digging through the underbelly of Vilnius trying to find any trace of her," Adam pointed out. "And as many holes as I have in my memory, it's not a recurring problem; I'd just seen her, and I'm good at details."
"Hn. That's still not good."
"So what I'm hearing," Audi announced, expression impish, "is that I could have spent the last year and a half with a circus. That's not too bad."
"You would have been bored to tears inside one week," Odin argued immediately.
The girl snickered. "Well… yeah. But I'd be really good at throwing knives, right?"
Cathy put a whole lot of effort into not laughing at the way the man sighed, slumping in on himself. She did.
The fact that she didn't succeed couldn't be held against her.
oOo
oOo
Revision
oOo
Well… 55 pages in less than six weeks isn't too bad, I hope. I really thought 7 scenes would come out shorter, but… dude, drama. We're over 33k words on this one.
Thoughts? This one has more of the same hard-hitting history themes as the last chapter, and seriously… drama. A whole lot of fun stuff too… including the misunderstandings while thinking you've made the obvious leap of logic.
The utter shitshow that would be someone who lived through Heero's backstory trying to read Black Beauty has been in my brain for… years. Since before he first mentioned to Quatre that he had a reading list, when they went banking. For the record, it wasn't actually written for children, but a lot of people think it so – it was written to highlight how normalized animal cruelty towards horses was in the Victorian era by a horse-lover. As a kid, I remember being kinda horrified but thinking it was someone painting a big logo on slavery using animals… but apparently it was genuinely about horses. But anthropomorphizing a 'thing' to human-level intelligence and proceeding to put it through casually awful stuff when you have been treated as a thing yourself… at least he's acknowledging what happened a bit more?
The Noins are doing their best, but there's a lot of trauma to unpack… Jake is more open about his than Junior, but Junior's… better at actually handling it? I'm not entirely sure how that works out, to be honest. I guess we'll see.
Otherwise, next up Duo's actually utterly done with this bombing shit – or at least, he's done with the crazy one, and has a lead. We'll see what else manages to happen, but that's the crux of 26, at any rate.
