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Chapter Twenty-Six
Time Was…
Nostalgia is not what it used to be. – Simone Signoret
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Trauma is a fact of life. It does not, however, have to be a life sentence. – Peter A. Levine
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Odin and Adam pick up questionable hobbies, and mistakes are made. Talking is supposed to help, right? Or maybe it does the other thing...
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For the record, a part of this taking so long was having fifteen scenes planned and sorting the pacing, then trying to fix the pacing… before realizing that the pacing problem could be fixed instead by breaking the chapter – especially since twelve scenes was over 24,000 words and on page 41. Pacing problem fixed… Have nine scenes instead and know that Chapter 27 is already getting on to page fifteen.
I'm actually proud of how short/fast some of these scenes are, for the record. It feels like an odd thing to be proud about, but there it is. Big thanks again to Emily for the hard edit, and everyone else I bounced ideas with while writing and plotting. It speeds up the process significantly.
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December 29th 198 – Sunday – Amsterdam, Netherlands
"You left them intact?"
"They weren't my target, and it would have taken more time than I was willing to spend," Adam agreed. "They were something of a red herring – I moved on."
Duo grunted. "I think it's the best lead we've got. If they did as much weaponry as heroin, they might be her supplier. How else could something of theirs have led you to Ieper?"
Adam shrugged, conceding the point. "It should be doable. They're in northern Italy, but the part of their operation that I hit was still outside the cordon – if they've moved house, it shouldn't be too hard to track them down again." On the other hand… He'd left an impression. "I need to see if Odin's free." Depending on what they found, he might even need to see if he could borrow some of the Rubato guys, or ideally, Xu – but Xu… technically had a job, or something.
Vaska was a cop before the Fall, though. Some kind of detective – that might actually be more help than the footwork he knew the three Rubato vets were capable of. Considering how trigger happy he remembered the Italian heroin traffickers being, he was less inclined to bring any of Rubato who were less versed in firearms. Ideally he'd prefer to have Odin and Hilde along, but…
He didn't like the hollow feeling in his chest when he thought about Hilde, and he didn't want to bring her up in front of Duo. He'd apologized to her for Ieper, and they'd talked after that, but he hadn't seen her since ditching her after that explosion, and now… Maybe she was fine, but maybe that was the last time he'd ever see her.
The sheer helplessness of the situation was suffocating.
Duo frowned. "You think it's going to be that bad?"
"There's a decent chance that someone will recognize me from my last run through," Adam admitted. "And unless we get very lucky on our first hit, I will have to dismantle them to get the kind of information you want, and they're… not small."
"Shit." His friend scrubbed a hand through his hair, burying his fingers in the base of his ponytail. "I…" He blew out a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I can't travel that far. I know Rubato's got a handhold in transport now, but-"
"It only takes one person," Adam finished for him, cutting him off. "I'm not annoyed – you're right." He and Duo were the ones who the Regime both had decent pictures of and still looked like their pictures. His own face had changed a bit since his OZ recruitment photos, but not too much – he mostly got away with running around the way he did because there was nothing remarkable about his features. He blended in almost everywhere he went, and people just didn't remember him. Colonel Mitchell picking him out of a crowd the September before last was a first, and thus far thankfully a singular event. At this point, he was fairly sure that was unique to Mitchell more than anything else.
Duo, on the other hand, had those big blue eyes that bordered on purple in the right light, was pretty enough to catch the attention of both sexes, and other than his cheekbones growing sharper? His face hadn't changed at all. It was very Duo of him, and he appreciated that, but maybe if he… Hm.
"What's that look mean?"
"When was the last time you tried to grow a beard?"
"Every fucking night," his friend retorted, rolling his eyes. "But I'm trying to rock the blonde and it comes in dark, so that's not really an option."
That made sense – and the blonde really did help to camouflage him as much as was likely possible, so that wasn't going anywhere. "It was just a thought," he admitted. "It takes me a week or two to get more than scruff." And given their two weeks in America last November, he would guess it took Odin closer to four to get something that would look intentionally styled.
"It's obnoxious," Duo admitted. "I shave every morning, and I'm bristling by the time the sun gets low. If I'm planning on going anywhere in the evening I have to shave again, and it's still thick when I wake up."
Huh. "That does sound annoying," he agreed. He hadn't realized it could go so fast as the other man was describing – any conversations he'd overheard other men have about facial hair usually revolved around complaining how long it took to get just so, or how difficult it was to maintain a certain shape. Grass is always greener on the other side, I suppose. That was just the way the world worked, really.
Duo sighed. "Just…. Berlin was the furthest site east, but the rest? Paris, Ieper, Charleroi, and now Hannover? This bomber needs to go down either way, but I'm almost positive she's in either the democratic zone or allied Germany. If we find her and she's further out, I'm fine with passing off the intel somehow, but if she's this close? I don't want to give the Regime another reason to creep into my back yard if I can help it."
"If she's further out, I'll handle it," Adam told him seriously. "It's been six months since her first showing, and the Regime hasn't gotten any more traction than a basic profile on either bomber." All too often, he felt like he was doing the Regime's job for them when he came across the more chaotic elements. "Let me call Odin, and we'll get this done."
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Munich, Germany – Sarracenia
"Vanessa, then," Helena declared, flicking her hair back over her shoulders. "At least as a primary. She has the core qualifications and background, and a decent work history."
"Or Nadiya," Jake countered, not looking up from the spread of papers arrayed across the table.
"She's less qualified."
"It's not just about that," the colonel returned, tone distracted. "Gaps can be filled, and I've found that this works better with someone who has room to expand instead of already having a set way of operating." He tapped one pile of papers in particular. "I'm not ready to rule out Latifah either."
"I'm not complaining," Cassidy announced, idly bringing a mug up to his lips. "But don't you have an office?"
"Relena's work takes precedence, and this was the next best workspace to lay everything out," Jake answered, still not looking up.
"I'd have sworn you had a desk outside the solarium," the captain countered, eyes dancing.
"When you own an entire estate, it's a little weird to bring the wife of your friend into your bedroom to strategize a new campaign."
"Hm. Maybe you should get your own office."
Jake's eyes were lit with just as much amusement as Cassidy's as he finally looked up, giving the man an exasperated smile. "Maybe you should go clean the chicken coop."
"Mm, nope." Taking another slurp from his mug, he turned to walk back out of the larger dining room. "Real pressing appointment here having a free shift. I'm going to go bug Des."
Jake snorted, raising his brows at Helena, who grinned back at him… before they went back to comparing the series of personnel profiles Mrs. Osbourne had brought with her.
Vaughn wasn't any more sure of what they were up to than Kansas, but they'd already been at it for over an hour – maybe if he'd stayed in the room the whole time he'd have a better idea, but… eh.
Not having to carry the workload for the Foreign Affairs department was amazing. It meant days spent in house actually felt like home. He was technically on shift right now, but breaks were a thing that sane, not-burnt out people got, and Illian had surveillance covered for another five minutes. He'd stretched his legs a bit, snagged a snack from the kitchen, powdered his nose…
Jake absolutely could've picked somewhere less trafficked to hold his little meeting with Osbourne. Kansas liked to poke fun at any of their inconsistencies as a sort of game, but he wasn't wrong – Sarracenia had, like, three private dining rooms and probably four out of the way sitting areas. He was definitely working, but this was also a display of some kind.
I wonder who for, though. It could just be a sort of flex, pointing out again that this was his property and he could lay claim to any part of it he felt like, but that wasn't very Jake – and in the main of traffic like this, he had to be getting annoyed with how many people were walking through interrupting by now. In that same vein, though, he could just be showing off Helena, getting everyone familiar with the sight of the woman, if she was going to become a regular fixture on the property.
He's usually more direct, though. It was the kind of thing the colonel might do to acclimate both Helena and everyone else to the idea, but not without also announcing it to the Guard privately first.
"What are you up to, then?"
Aha! BJ was coming out from the direction of the kitchen, freshly down from business on the third floor. He'd noticed the man was here earlier, but given the lack of sound on the atrium's cameras, hadn't really bothered worrying over the details.
Jake waved a distracted hand in the Vice-Minister's direction. "It's unrelated – personal project."
Helena's expression was earnest and thoughtful, but there was still something ever so slightly sly about how she shifted her weight in a way that caught the attention of everyone in the room – despite appearing fully focused on the papers littering the table. It was just too perfect to not be practiced. "What caught your attention on Latifah? Nadiya makes sense, she would have been my second pick, but what are you keying in on?"
Oh yeah, this is a show for BJ. Maybe someone else too, but definitely for BJ in particular, which probably meant Helena was here for some sort of RLTT thing.
He wondered if that little call and response there was scripted, or if Osbourne was that good at reading the room and keying into a con. It could go either way – the woman had married Delilah Winner, after all.
Hiding his smirk, he turned and made his way back into the surveillance hub… to find Cassidy already there with a bowl of popcorn, eyes glued to a screen showing the dining room.
He laughed, moving up next to him to steal a couple pieces. "You are the best, Kansas."
The American grinned but otherwise didn't respond, waving a shushing hand at him.
Vaughn rolled his eyes, gesturing at Illian for the big seat so he could take back over. His break was over, and Captain Derusha probably had a hundred and one other things to do…
…Like switch seats and lean in next to Cassidy.
He considered that for a moment before deciding, "We need lives. Real social lives. I hear they're healthy."
"No," Illian returned immediately in a monotone, not even bothering to glance his way.
"People pay to watch this shit," Kansas agreed solemnly.
"What, reality TV?"
"Shh."
…Yeah, maybe he'd think about getting an actual hobby when he was more than a month past near burnout. It wasn't like this wasn't entertaining.
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December 30th 198 – Monday – Savona, Italy
"Damn." Adam grimaced, resisting the urge to sigh. He should have guessed, really, but… that didn't make the dead end not frustrating.
"I'm not surprised," Vaska declared, looking around the empty, abandoned warehouse thoughtfully. "Even if you had not done so much damage as you say, being found at all would have seen them moving shop." He gestured around them. "How full was this place? And did you know any other sites?"
"It wasn't packed solid, but there wasn't much room either. And I know there were at least two other sites, but not if they were more warehouses like this, or something else – I didn't bother searching them out, once I realized I'd gone off on a tangent."
Vaska nodded to himself, humming… then grinned. "Even just here, that's no small amount of product – and even if you had burned them down to only a few members, they're still around." He shook his head. "This kind of people… they don't stop. If there is a market to work, they do it. We won't have to look far."
"I'm… not sure where to start," Adam admitted. "What I've been doing has been at the other end, finding a problem grabbing hold of it – reacting. This is different."
Vaska grinned again. "Which is why it is good you have me – and him." Jerking a thumb back toward Odin, he smirked. "To smuggle this much product to different buyers, they're not doing it the hard way. I would have guessed so from the fact that they've sold weapons too but this? It needs corruption." Focusing on Odin, he asked, "Can you find which port nearby took shipments from this place in early October?"
"Sure. Give me a few hours, and I'll have a few likely suspects out of the port's personnel files too." Glancing back to Adam, Odin added, "I have done this kind of investigation before – though not about drugs." He frowned. "Not focused on drugs – they usually pop up eventually the deeper you look into someone's corruption."
Adam blinked. "When did you do investigations?"
"The first five years I was with J, a lot of his training was to show me a problem he was having, and ask me to try and figure it out. Materials he needed, shipments that had gone missing, people causing problems… a lot of the time the core issue was hidden underneath a few layers. If I had trouble, he'd help, and we'd shore up some part of my skills that we hadn't realized I was lacking in – and then he had me work out solutions." His mouth tightened into something that was either a grimace or a smirk as he glanced back Adam's way from the corner of his eye. "Then, once we were sure I could do everything I'd planned? I executed."
Huh. "Did I ever say how I was trained?"
It was definitely a grimace this time. "No. We didn't actually talk much during the war."
He frowned. "Cathy says we spent that whole summer together."
"I was comatose for the first month of that. Then we only stayed at the circus for a week after I woke up before we… got caught up in my stupid attempt at redeeming myself." The grimace deepened. "We went all over four continents in those six weeks, and I was barely vertical for most of it. You kept busy running the logistics, and I focused on pushing through physical rehabilitation while meeting your schedule."
Adam frowned, a simmering suspicion starting to boil again in the back of his mind. "Was this redemption attempt the existential crisis that involved all those guns?"
The other man looked away. "If I say I don't want to, can we just… never talk about it?" He shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "I can't regret it, but I'm not proud, and I would never do it again."
"I just want to know what happened," he argued, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Odin usually wasn't one for dramatics – and as funny as the wild alternate explanations had been at first, it was starting to get tedious. "I lost most of my life, remember? You know part of it."
Odin turned and met his eyes dead on, expression serious. "I don't think the part of you that knew me then survived the blast. And that's probably a good thing."
"If you told me, maybe I would agree with you," he pointed out, crossing his arms.
Odin's gaze hardened. "I was trying to kill myself, and you were so depressed and adrift that I talked you into helping."
…So that flash memory of Heero walking back his way after handing a gun to a girl their age was related. He still didn't follow how that was a suicide attempt, exactly, but the motive did explain why his friend had gotten so creative in dodging the question. Maybe confirming what he'd already beginning to suspect it should have made him feel different. But honestly?
That sounded like a Trowa problem. And in any case, suicidal ideation was clearly a moot point now.
On the other hand? "We spent six weeks trying to kill you?" That… made no actual sense.
Odin snorted out a laugh as he looked away, body language easing back into something casual. "More or less."
"Six weeks."
The other man lazily spun on his heel to turn back and face him with that dark smirk of his, arms out in an almost flippant motion. "Sometimes you just have to accept you're not good at something."
Vaska spluttered out a laugh along with Adam this time. "Dark, my friend, that is… very dark."
"If I have to acknowledge it, I'm going to own it," Odin decided with another shrug. His smirk deepened. "And I am very bad at dying. I might as well count the good with the rest." Gesturing back to Vaska in a motion that was so clearly Duo that it was obvious where he'd stolen it from, he prompted, "Once I have suspects, what do you suggest?"
The big Russian shrugged. "Observation would have been the next legal step if this was an op, but we don't answer to anyone… and it's slow. I'm not interested in interrogation, though."
That was a fair point. "Intimidation is one thing, but no torture," Adam agreed. He… seconded the lack of interest in that route. Killing was one thing, sadism another entirely. As far as he was aware he'd never done it, and he had no interest in starting.
Heero, though…?
"Even if any of us were willing, interrogation is still slow, not to mention unreliable," Odin agreed, returning Adam's speculative look with a flatly unimpressed one. "And that's if we catch the right culprit before information has a chance to spread."
Vaska made a face. "So we get a few more of the guys and take the long route."
Odin gave him a dubious look. "No."
The older man frowned. "But if-"
"Why waste time on the unpredictable element after we have a direct lead? I was asking because I thought you'd done this before and might have an alternate method."
Ah. "If we have the players," Adam considered aloud, "then we just need to wait for the play."
Odin nodded. "I can narrow it down to one or two locations for us to watch – then we wait for a shipment that gets its inspection waived."
Vaska frowned. "Following our inspector that's on the take may not lead to anything," he warned. "His involvement may be minimal."
But I could probably play big brother and get him to talk, from there, Adam mused. He'd impersonated enough government agents both before and after his accident to know he had the knack for it. With just a couple supplies, he could-
"Why bother?" Odin sounded genuinely confused. "Just steal the payload."
"…What?"
"They'll come after it, which means we won't have to waste time routing them out." He was looking at them both like they were simple. "Leave a trail for them to follow and make them do the work."
"…That is easier," Adam admitted.
Odin rolled his eyes as he unslung his backpack, dropping into a cross-legged position on the ground and pulling out his laptop. "You were overcomplicating it."
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January 1st 199 – Wednesday – Dublin, Ireland
'Hey, Jovi! I finally got around to making an account on here, and I recognized your name. How have you been? I think I heard you on the radio the other day.'
Nick pushed out a deep, calming breath… and tapped the send button. There. That's… one thing done.
He'd finally admitted to his therapist how he was missing some of the guys… and finally been able to acknowledge that if the others were moving on and building stable new lives – very publicly, in Jovi's case – then there was no reason why they couldn't stay in touch. That maybe it wouldn't all be too much. 'Shared life experiences, even bad ones, build bonds,' Kenneth said. That Nick could completely shut down that part of his life if he really wanted to, dealing with it piece by piece over time and ignoring the triggers… but that he also didn't have to be so black and white about it.
Not that Kenneth had any idea that half the people he was missing were legally dead. He hadn't said any names – he trusted his shrink, but… that was something else entirely, and not actually related to his problems. Or at least, probably not? He had no idea where any of the guys who left early had scattered to – he actually didn't even know if they'd made it out of the Sahara or died in the escape or terraforming, but-
He closed his eyes, keeping his breathing even. This was why he'd agreed to his latest bit of homework, really – these were fears he couldn't even bring up with his therapist, and… Jovi was right there. He'd startled hard enough that some girl had literally run into him when he jerked to a stop after hearing the man's voice on the talk show he'd been playing on his headphones – and he'd just about swallowed his tongue trying to get out of that social encounter without freezing up entirely – but Jovi was doing some pretty cool social activist stuff, apparently? Which fed into Kenneth's point being true. But if anyone knew…
Jovi knew everyone. If anyone that left with Mitchell knew what had happened to the others, it'd be him.
And, well… New year's resolution, or something. He wasn't entirely sure if his resolution ought to be phrased as 'stop forgetting you're an extrovert' or 'be less of a fickle bitch' – but, well, six of one, half dozen of the other.
…Skye would have a better title for it. Both funnier, and more on the nose.
His phone chimed.
He clenched on hand around it automatically, but didn't bring out of his pocket yet. He… Well, he'd kinda figured it would take a while before Jovi got back to him. If it was anyone else, he might've wondered if they would bother answering at all, given some of the shit he'd said before leaving, but… Well, it was Jovi.
Another chime. Then another.
…Right. Jovi. However busy the other man must be, he really should have expected that.
'NICK!'
'How's school? You went back to Trinity, right?'
'Preston was talking about Trinity the other day, but not in a serious way, I think? Like, maybe next year? He ranted about the admission interview for a while, though.'
Nick grinned, realizing he… really wouldn't mind talking to Preston again. They hadn't been close, exactly, but they hadn't weirded each other out, the way Nick had so many of the others.
'It can be a rough one to get into, especially if you're not sure what you want to do,' he admitted. He thought for another moment, but… Ugh, he was talking this much right? 'I'm lucky that they just let me back in – I'm only starting back up next week, though.'
He didn't have to wait long before his phone chimed again – Jovi was either using dictation, or typed really fast. 'That makes sense, especially since it's a hard school. Better to take the extra time to get settled back into your own skin before picking up a challenge.'
'Something like that,' he agreed. 'I'm trying to be less of a hermit now, though. Anyway, it sounds like you've been busy.'
'I can tell! And yes. Rubato is great, I love it, but I think I'm the only morning person on the primary board that has to be up early. Unless you count Damien, but maybe don't. You know Luke – Damien keeps thinking the man will run out of interesting ways to threaten him for being a little shit, but really, he's just a glutton for punishment. Luke always means it, and he doesn't say shit unless he has a plan of action already in place.'
Nick blinked. That didn't…
And then his stomach swooped as understanding dawned.
Mark had always been the one for creative insults and revenge, and could plan and carry out complex pranks for said revenge as easily as he handled the logistics of their supplies.
Mark had also noted, once, that his older brother was named Matthew, and that if he'd ever gotten a little brother his parents had planned to name the next boy Luke. He'd brought it up once as a sort of ironic joke about the bible after Nick had said he was gnashing his teeth because their setting was appropriate. Mark was in the older range, almost as old as Jalee and Vaska, and despite his mercurial streak was often as much an anchor to cling to as Vaska.
And Mark had chosen to run, despite having no bad blood with the Regime. He hadn't said why, but he'd been one of the first to say he was leaving, once Robby offered.
He had no idea who 'Damien' might be, and maybe that was someone new, but this was Jovi letting him know without saying anything… incriminating? If Mark was in the clear, then the others-
Stop. Check first, before you make an ass of yourself. He might just be reaching, but it would be easy enough to confirm.
'Oh man, Luke's with you? Did he find himself a boyfriend yet?' The man had always bemoaned the irony of how, after getting isolated in a desert with a literal army of men, the only ones who caught his attention were all too straight to persuade.
Again, the response was fast, first with a little laughing/crying emoji, then another block of text. 'He says it's a really bad time to be gay? Supposedly all the good ones are taken or straight. I think he's just working sixteen hour days and not interested in meeting new people right now, but he'll wax poetic about it if you let him. If not about that, then those weird sitcoms he likes – did you know that three of those shows have ALIENS in them?'
Yeah, that was definitely Mark.
'I thought it was just two,' he admitted.
'No, there's the serious one, then the two awkward comedy style ones – I thought they were the same show for a while, but now I'VE WATCHED THEM and they're so terrible it's amazing.'
Nick snorted, considering that… and decided that he didn't really want to know more. At least, not from Jovi; Mark could probably convince him to give it a try, but Mark was… really good at that kind of thing. All the same, though, he'd take the bait on the reality end of things. 'Sixteen hour days sound brutal.'
'It's self-inflicted,' Jovi assured him. 'He just likes sprinting past the deadlines he set in the first place. I think it gives him a rush.
'That or, you know. Coping mechanisms don't always make sense. Damien is still the Schrödinger's cat of sleep.'
Dmitriy, Nick realized. That had been an old joke too – that Dmitriy was somehow both always awake, and also asleep. If he ever laid down at all, it was never for more than an hour or two, and even then, his eyes were usually open. Then you could find him standing somewhere, staring off into the middle distance and try to start a conversation… only to hear him let out a snore.
Though at least once, he'd done that as a prank.
…Probably.
Nick worried at his lip, looking back to the last text about Mark. It was good to have the reference for Dmitriy, but there was more of a clue left behind in the bit about… about Luke.
'Project-style work can sweep you up like that sometimes,' he agreed. 'What's he up to these days?'
'He's heading up all the marketing and PR for Rubato. Rolf and a couple of the other guys are helping him and he's contracted a couple small firms for the really tedious stuff, but he's basically the mastermind.'
His hands shook as the import of that really sunk in, along with all the other little hints that he knew he wasn't catching the meaning of beyond recognizing they were there.
Revenant Rubato was Robby. It was Robby, and he hadn't bothered paying much attention to what the new group was doing, but he'd caught enough chatter to realize it was popular and edging into the Princess' same tier of philanthropic economics. And maybe the man would call it penance if Nick asked, maybe he'd just file it under moving on, but…
The emotions twisting up in his chest were just as ugly as they were hopeful. Because here he was, struggling just to re-integrate, and the ones who'd stayed with Robby were… doing important shit.
He wanted and hated and was utterly disgusted at himself all at once.
His phone chirped.
Growling, he jammed it back into his pocket and started walking again. He… was going to need to come back to that with a clearer head.
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January 2nd 199 – Thursday – Savona, Italy
"I don't know," Odin argued. "None of that matches up right either."
"I'm running out of ideas," Lucrezia groused. "And I can't close the intelligence gap without piggybacking someone else, except I've run out of sources there too – and I've been trying."
"We're missing something integral," he agreed. "Maybe more than one facet of the problem." He debated, then grimaced. "I can look into extending our reach with the transport networks, but I don't know that it would get us anything useful." And Quatre would probably be against it – we're doing enough economic acrobatics while trying to keep cover already. The rules for large-scale operations were entirely different from what he knew how to run solo.
He was learning – but sometimes it was disorienting, the angles Rubato took.
"I would defer to Cat's judgement on that front," Lucrezia returned, mirroring his thoughts. "I think I might just reroute to the Carpathian base and double down on my sims."
That wasn't a bad idea. Heavyarms, even after Howard's significant modifications post-Fall, wasn't nearly as responsive as Deathscythe or either Wing model – and given her obligations to the Insurgence, she wouldn't be able to commit to nearly as much time at the dark site. Some would be necessary no matter what, but… the timing would be tricky. Right now, Howard was laying down the framework and the interchangeable parts of all four suits – the core construction. Once that phase was done, Odin would need to be on site to tinker and assist, troubleshoot… and in the final phases, ideally all three of them would go.
Realistically, however, they had agreed that he and Quatre should not be off-world at the same time – or at least, not both off-world and out of communication for more than two days at most. Quatre had gone first because Odin did specialize in the later stages while Quatre had more experience at this phase… and because, working in isolation, his friend thought he could probably get the Zero System running before February was out.
Cory had been upset to be left behind but his schooling was online, and as attached as he was to Quatre, the rest of Rubato had unanimously voted that isolating the boy again for two months would do him a disservice. Personally, Odin thought the separation might be healthy – maybe for them both, but definitely for Quatre. Letting the man focus wholly on something without outside influence he did not actively seek out might help level out some of the building anxiety the rest of Rubato often worked to curtail. Jack showing up had made the pattern easier for Odin to recognize, but he could see, looking back, that it had been increasing over time.
…He was trying to get better at nonverbal cues. Not that the verbal ones didn't still fly over his head often enough, but at least he was getting better at noticing he'd missed something in the first place.
"I'm building a multi-rig at the Poland site," he told Lucrezia. "Cutting edge. If you need to be at the Blue Nile or Carpathian bases it's one thing, but Poland is significantly more central, and my tech is better." Shifting his weight, he eyed his impromptu chair as it shifted as well… then decided not to worry about it. "I need to check, but all the equipment should have made it by now – I just have to put it together."
Lucrezia made an interested noise. "That does appeal. Howard said you have ghosts for all five of all the heavy hitters. Are you headed that way soon?"
"All five plus my original," he agreed. "I want to see what you think of that one's handling before we settle on your final configuration." As far as he knew, only he had ever been able to fly the suit he and J designed together – but his competition at the time hadn't been on Lucrezia's level. He knew his reflexes still overshot hers by a fair margin, so if it relied on that it was probably a bad idea – but a little time in the sims trying it out couldn't hurt.
"I'll admit to some curiosity there myself, after listening to Howard drool over the specs," she returned, sounding amused. "When are you headed back to Poland?"
Odin grimaced. "Hopefully in a day or two, but it might be as many as five."
She hummed out a curious sound. "What are you doing in Italy, anyway?"
He eyed his… throne was probably not an inaccurate term? Adam had been amusing himself and insisted that if nothing else, it would make an impression. "Stealing heroin."
A pause, then a delighted sort of cackle came through the line. "Why?"
He smirked, leaning back and ignoring the crinkle of shrink wrap. Despite how the drug was in a powdered format, the bricks it had been packaged into were surprisingly solid. "I'm trying to piss someone off."
Lucrezia snickered. "Why are you trying to piss off a drug lord?"
Duo has a bone to pick. "Adam thinks they might be hiding something worth knowing," he hedged. It was a tenuous lead, and he didn't want to get her hopes up. If they were right, then she'd be glad for the news – otherwise, it was one less thing for her to worry about.
"So you stole their product."
"It was the fastest way to get their attention," he agreed. He figured they had somewhere between two and twenty-four hours before the group retaliated, depending on their competence.
Lucrezia hummed out a sigh. "And you don't do subtle," she mused.
He smirked again. "I don't."
oOo
oOo
Munich, Germany – Sarracenia
"Stop fretting," Relena soothed, wrapping her arms around Jake's shoulders from behind and dropping her weight against him. "You're supposed to be having a guys' weekend with both your dads – if you go in high strung like it's a big mission, you've already lost."
He sighed. "I need to get over this."
"And every time you think about it like that you get more wound up and make the situation worse instead of actually getting over your animosity towards Jack." Pressing her lips to the back of his neck for a long moment, she waited for him to relax a little… and continued once he sighed. "You're overthinking this. I'm starting to think that's half the issue entirely."
Jake snorted. "You just described my entire worldview."
Relena grinned, briefly pressing her lips to the side of his neck so he'd loosen up a little more. "And while that's very helpful for most of what you do, it's been proven rather empirically that it does your interpersonal relationships no favors."
He snorted again, leaning some of his weight back against hers. "Touché."
"Try to relegate the more obsessive thoughts to the move logistics," she suggested. "Or if you can't, call me and I'll set a problem for you to chew on." She rolled her eyes. Lord knows I have enough of them.
Jake hesitated, clearly knowing where her thoughts were going even if she hadn't said anything aloud. "Are you sure you can spare me? If you need-"
"So I can be your latest excuse to avoid your father?" She was sure to keep her tone amused instead of annoyed, but really, what did he expect? "Jake."
He groaned, leaning back into her more. "I don't understand why this is so hard, but it is, okay?"
"You don't have to know why," she pointed out. "It's illogical enough to start with that understanding the reasoning isn't going to help."
He collapsed in on himself a little. "Harsh."
Relena sighed and pulled away enough to spin him to face her, pleased when he didn't offer any resistance – though he did look down instead of meeting her eyes. "Illogical doesn't mean your feelings aren't real," she reminded him, resting her forehead against his.
"And if I don't want them to be real? It's… not good, Lena, I don't even agree with them, but it's just…. there."
She considered that, then shrugged. "Reasoning your way around those feelings hasn't worked for the past decade, so I don't see why you think that's an appropriate tactic now." He grunted like she'd hit him, but she wasn't done. "So come at it sideways – you're good at that."
He blinked, looking up. "What?"
"Try treating him like a friend of Des or David and stop focusing on all the bad blood," she suggested. "Go around the emotions and give the man a chance, then re-examine the feelings later." She raised her brows at him. "Honestly, this can't be a new idea – how else do you manage espionage?"
Jake licked his lips. "Well, yeah, but…"
"But?"
"I swore I was going to stop lying to myself," he reminded her. "That cuts it pretty close."
"The juxtaposition you feel about Jack is its own kind of lie," she reminded him bluntly… then sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Jake, if you honestly despised the man and were content to leave the relationship there, I would support you. I would help you cut him out of our lives entirely, if that's what would keep you happy. You don't have to do anything. But you crave the kinship he offers more than it repulses you, and you're angry at your head not agreeing with your heart." She pursed her lips, trying to get him to meet her eyes again. "Some small level of temporary self-deception is probably healthy in this scenario."
Jake didn't look up, but he did reach out and pull her in closer, which she would take as a win. "It's… I don't trust myself."
She rubbed his back, settling her cheek against his neck. "I thought that was the point of this conversation."
He snorted out a wry laugh. "No, I mean that it's a slippery slope, and if I start… I don't want to fall back into old habits." He tightened his hold on her for a moment in emphasis. "I'm not exactly out of the woods yet, you know? It always starts with a simple, reasonable action, but then…"
Ah, that makes more sense. She had wondered what the hang-up was. "Then use me as a check," she suggested. "Like any of our political ploys. Hold things separate when it comes to Jack, treat him like someone you need to learn for a job, and we'll keep touching base on it until your stubborn heart catches up."
"Mm." He started to tremble, and for a moment she worried – before realizing it was laughter.
Pulling back slightly, she tried to get a good look at his face. "What?"
Those dark blue eyes of his were dancing. "Did you just offer to be my handler?"
Well, she'd meant it more in terms of trust and their relationship, their partnership, but if he was going to say it like that? "I could get into that kink," she offered. He certainly liked it when she was bossy, intimately or otherwise. It couldn't be too hard to shift it up to commanding – even demanding. She'd heard enough stories from the other girls by now to know that a bit of role-play wasn't unusual.
And oh, but he could blush… and he didn't immediately refute the idea, which was answer enough.
A glance at the clock confirmed that they shouldn't be disturbed until morning –nothing short of an emergency should bring Rome or one of the majors into their suite.
Moving slowly enough that he had time to think it over more and change his mind, she reached out and took a firm hold of his chin, raising his gaze back to hers and giving him a searing look. "I have new orders for you, Colonel."
oOo
oOo
January 3rd 199 – Friday – Savona, Italy
"Do any of the rooms we set aside not meet the layout specs?"
"Uh… maybe? I'll go measure in a minute. Anything else goes, though?"
Odin shrugged, tension visibly rolling off his shoulders with the motion. "You'll probably run into problems along the way, but tinkering is how you learn. If you're still working on it when my lady arrives, she'll help you figure out what went wrong."
Adam smirked. He'd both been surprised but also not when he realized the boss Hilde had referred to as 'Lou' in October was Lucrezia Noin – and there was a lot more between her and Odin than sex. Noin's identity was such a secret from the Regime, however, that he hadn't gotten the final pieces to that puzzle until he was officially looped through Rubato a week ago; and they still weren't supposed to use her name where eavesdropping was a possibility.
He was enjoying the fact that both she and Sally were referred to as 'Lady' – that they even referred to each other directly as 'Lady', which he'd have thought was an Une thing. Likely part of the reason they're doing it; whether as a final 'fuck you' or because it would automatically make people think of Treize instead of them. Xu had admitted when prodded that if context didn't make it obvious, it was technically 'Lady Commander' and 'Lady General' – and something visceral in him enjoyed the extra layer of obfuscation. The added flavors of context in referring to Noin as Odin's lady just made it even better.
He deeply appreciated the versatility in the turn of phrase. He could say a lot of things precisely while still being perfectly vague to outsiders. It was delicious.
Marie made a discontent sound – not quite worry, but not annoyance either. "You think she'll get here before you?"
Odin's mouth, which had begun to shift into a barely there smile, flattened back out. "Yes."
Adam looked away, biting at his lip as he held in a laugh.
Mariemaia made another sound. "What happened to 'Sunday at the latest', then?"
"…Opportunity."
Adam could feel his friend's glower when he snorted, but so long as he was facing the other way he could play it off.
"Oh!" Evidently, that was an exciting idea. "You found more than you bargained for, huh?"
He did laugh then, even as he pre-emptively dodged. Looking back, he wasn't sure if Odin had actually tried to swipe at him – but the other man's glare said he'd at least thought about it.
"Huh?"
Odin rolled his eyes. "Never trust Occam's razor."
"…What?"
Pitching his voice to carry the distance better, Adam announced, "We picked a fight with the wrong dealers."
"It's messy," Odin admitted, collapsing in on himself a little, looking tired.
Marie hesitated, clearly thinking that over. Then, tone cautious, "…Like, now you have to handle them and they're actually on your level?"
The laugh that escaped his mouth then had him doubling over. Wow, we walked right into that one. And it was excellent.
Odin, meanwhile, was dragging a hand down his face, pointedly ignoring him. "No."
"Then like what?"
"We picked a fight with the wrong drug dealers," Odin reiterated.
"You said that, so-"
"Literally the wrong people," he interrupted. "There's more than one cartel in the area." He turned a pointed look back on Adam. "This is on you too."
"I never said it wasn't! That doesn't make it less funny."
Now Marie was starting to giggle. "Oh my god, so you actually just stole some random person's heroin stash."
"And I think it's worth more than if it was bricks of twenties," Adam added, the sheer hilarious glee of the heist catching up to him again. "You are sitting on… a literal fortune."
Odin's lips were twitching back up into a smile, even though the rest of his body language said he was trying to stay annoyed. "Only because you needed to build with them like Legos," he pointed out dryly.
"It's funny," Adam protested, starting to snicker again… in part because damn it, Odin was still sitting on it.
"Wait, he's literally sitting on the heroin stash?"
"I don't think you can call it a 'stash' when there's too much to carry," Odin decided. "There has to be a better word."
"I made a chair," Adam explained, his face starting to hurt. "With arms."
"…I need pictures." Her voice was a little breathless.
"No."
"Adam, you are no longer my favorite fake uncle if you don't get pictures of him on the heroin throne."
"No photography," Odin insisted.
"Oh my God, just put a hat over your face or something! Seriously!"
…He was absolutely going to borrow Vaska's hat now. It ought to be oversized on Odin too, which would work perfectly.
"Why is this a thing?" Odin finally asked.
"You're too straight-laced to ever actually be involved in drugs, so it's funny," Adam explained with a completely flat affect, keeping his face blank. "Life is too short to not collect funny things."
His friend was getting very good at that unimpressed look.
"You lady will think it's hilarious," he added.
"I'm not that easy to influence," Odin reminded him – though the corner of his mouth was lifting again.
Adam nodded thoughtfully, conceding the point, and debated for another long moment… before shrugging. "Please?" Cathy would think it was a riot too, and if he could get Odin to do it, he could borrow the hat and get a few shots in himself.
It was the kind of thing that would get Hilde howling with laughter, but… Well. Maybe he could show her, sometime.
Odin eyed him for another long moment, then rolled his eyes. "Vaska?"
Adam grinned. "It should work, right?"
"So long as he's back soon. We have less than two hours before the exchange, and I'd still rather do it remotely."
"Two hours until what?"
Odin's eyes crumpled in sheer exhausted resignation. "There's too much to carry, we had to arrange a second meet to give it back."
"Wait, what?"
Watching Odin's shoulders hunch in further, Adam decided it was probably time to back him up. "We didn't upset the heroin queen half as much as we intrigued her," he admitted.
~~oOo~~
"I ruled out lucky by the time we tracked you down – it was too well done. But you're not stupid either, the product is intact – and remarkably, so are the girls I set on your trail. Someone trying to move in on my territory wouldn't be half so polite. All said and done, I must say I'm impressed. Very efficient.
"So… was this an interview? Because my answer is yes."
"…No."
Shaded eyes were suddenly bright as the woman's body language shifted to something sultry, a coy smile lighting on her lips. "Oh? Then what did you have in mind?"
~~oOo~~
"The people we mistook Renata's group for, the Bianchis, have butted heads with her enough times she didn't mind accepting an apology from us in the form of redirected retribution," Adam explained. After we convinced her we had no interest in buying and selling ourselves, at least. She'd tried to insist they pay her for at least the hassle and delays in her business, but despite her come-hither shift, Odin's outright laughter at the idea combined with their body language had dissuaded her from pushing it, at least for now.
She had acknowledged that they were veterans – and it had also been clear, right from the start, that they heavily outclassed her. Renata had been willing to consider looping them into her work despite apparently having pride in an all female outfit because skill was skill and they'd been 'polite'… but he imagined the recruitment attempt had primarily been a sort of survival agenda. They were good enough that she wanted them either classed as 'hers' or gone – but convincing her they were only interested in the latter had been a… circuitous conversation.
Understanding that she didn't believe them didn't make the process of extricating themselves without taking a scorched earth policy not irritating. In the end, he thought implying their involvement with the Insurgence had been the tipping point. That, or Odin literally trying to walk away from the negotiations with her product left unguarded until she could round up people she trusted that didn't already have significant wounds to nurse.
They'd almost walked anyway – but there was a decent chance she could give them valuable intel, and it was only in exchange for a couple more hours of security over a pile of drugs. He was mostly sure the woman wouldn't push their boundaries again, but agreed with the idea of putting some distance between them all the same.
"And you're sure these are the right ones this time?"
"We're doing more research," Odin replied, visibly settling back into himself as he stood. "But even if they aren't who we came hunting for, we've already confirmed enough arms deals going through them that the Lady wants them sorted out. Xu and a few others from her quarter are already on their way."
Marie made a thoughtful sound. "But your lady is meeting me here instead?"
"Divide and conquer," he agreed dryly, pacing a few steps. "We've got enough talent here, we just need the numbers to surround and cordon. It would be a waste."
Her coming here would also mean a lot time with her face being flashed around, Adam mused. Not that they should say that over the phones. They were secure, but… well, you didn't stay safe by trusting that kind of security. He'd bring that up with the girl the next time they met; though he imagined Odin or Noin would probably manage it first.
Also, Noin had literal years of experience troubleshooting with the technical aspects of MS simulators. He might have no intention of ever piloting a suit again outside of an emergency, but the kind of fine-tuned training that Odin had been muttering about should be set up by a professional. Marie learned quickly enough to figure out most of it and the rest could be fine-tuned after the fact, but Noin could streamline it to perfection and teach the girl how it was done at the same time.
"Mm, well, let me know how it goes, I guess. I'd better get started."
"Aa."
Eying the other man as he disconnected the line and pulled up his text program, Adam noted, "She's going to give you crap for that." He didn't really care about proper phone etiquette either, but it appeared to be something of a running argument – or given the lack of response on Odin's end, maybe it was more accurate to call it a crusade.
"I've already caved to enough emotional blackmail today." Shutting off the screen, Odin tucked away his phone and gestured back at the throne, eyes glittering. "Vaska should back in five. Did you want to change anything before he gets here?"
oOo
oOo
Dublin, Ireland – Trinity College Campus
"For the record, two days used to be way too much space to let you brood."
Nick didn't jump, but he did slide, reaching for knives he no longer carried… which was worse. Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes and forced himself to take a deep breath.
"I'd call that progress," Jovi continued, tone casual but just as soberly genuine as ever. "Especially with you reaching out in the first place. And it's nothing to scoff at. But still, I know you."
Nick swallowed, not opening his eyes. "I'm not your responsibility anymore, Jovi."
"No. But messaging me on ShoutOut shows you're open to still being friends – and I was worried." Cloth rustled as the older man presumably shifted his weight, adjusted his stance. "And for the record, you were never a responsibility. The kids were one thing, but that was different – you knew your own skin, even when you didn't like it much. Friendship is as much about standing by someone when they need it as the happy gooey stuff."
Snorting, Nick gathered himself up and looked at Jovi, shaking his head. "Aren't you supposed to be some kind of inspirational speaker these days? Gooey stuff?"
"I'm off the clock," he returned happily. "And it gets the point across."
Finally starting to relax a little, shaking his head, Nick admitted, "I can't believe you just… came out here to check on me, just from that."
Jovi grinned. "Really?"
He snorted again, and it was closer to a laugh this time. "Yeah. I really should have, huh?" If he'd bothered to really think about it, he would've realized it was exactly the kind of thing his friend would do… but he hadn't really been able to think clearly, since that text chat. And if he'd thought of it before pulling up ShoutOut to make contact, there was a pretty good chance he wouldn't have done it at all – or that he would've waited another three months while agonizing over it, which… Ugh. Classes were starting on Monday, and…
New Year's Resolution, he reminded himself. And/or therapy homework, though Kenneth had implied it more than assigned it as a task, like he did so many other things.
"It is me," Jovi agreed, looking comfortable and cheerful and just a little bit thoughtful. "You're definitely doing better than I worried, though, with you ghosting right after a couple texts. Which is good, don't get me wrong. I just didn't want to sit on it when I could just…" He shrugged. "I thought it would be better to ask. I can go, if you want."
"No. It's…" He groaned and spun around, gesturing for Jovi to follow him. "You came all this way, right? Let's walk."
"I go a lot of places for crap reasons," Jovi pointed out, sounding faintly amused as caught up to walk alongside him. "This doesn't even make the cut." He hummed out a happy sound. "It's pretty here."
"It's cold," Nick argued.
"It's January, everywhere is cold."
Not in the southern hemisphere. But he didn't say it aloud, because really, it wasn't like Jovi didn't know, it just… wasn't the point. And, well… he had wanted to talk to Jovi, even about the shitty stuff, so there was an opener? "I never thought I'd miss the heat," he admitted, jamming his hands deep in his pockets. North Africa was well above the equator, but still close enough and desert enough that even the cold months had never been anything like what he'd grown up with.
Which was probably just as well, with how shitty some of their shelters had been. It was one of those things that added into how Cambyses had been able to happen at all – before the Fall, the heat would have prevented it, and after, it had still been bad. If Robby and the native guys hadn't known how to build shelters on freaking sand… Entire encampments had disappeared overnight, sometimes.
"I think that's just people," Jovi mused. "You want what you don't have. As much as everybody complains about change, we crave it too."
True enough. Nick grimaced, stopping and looking out across the quad. "I still can't believe you came out here just to check on me. You're busy these days."
"I do what I want, and most of what I do can travel too," Jovi pointed out. "And if it doesn't, it can either get rescheduled or the others can pick up the slack." He gave Nick a sidelong look. "I don't think anyone's close enough to eavesdrop – what did you really want to say?"
"You snuck up on me, and you think I had any part of this conversation planned out?"
"I wanted to make sure you weren't hiding from literally everything after what I said. I didn't think I was going to set off any of your triggers with my texts, but things change." Jovi sighed. "I knew you had a decent support network because you did take up the Stanton offer, but I figured the worst case scenario to me visiting would be a verbal evisceration." He paused. "So we're doing pretty good."
Nick sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. "I… said some shit before I left," he admitted.
Jovi's look was amused. "Yeah?"
He flushed, but made himself meet the other man's eyes. "I'm sorry."
Jovi's grin widened. "Nick, do you even remember your mouth when we were still in Africa? Why the fuck would I care about the tame bullshit you spouted as you shuffled off compared to that?"
His face got even hotter. That wasn't… "I actually meant it though, that time," he gritted out.
Jovi's lips twitched. "I'm pretty sure you meant it every other time too."
He gritted his teeth. "Jovi-"
"You run hot and say exactly what you think," Jovi interrupted. "Then you get over it after a couple hours and none of it carries. That's not new."
Nick closed his eyes again "It's shitty," he answered instead.
"A little, sure, but we all had our edges rubbed raw and no one held it against you – it was always just words, and you never beat anyone down with it."
"Pretty sure Sagan held it against me."
"Nobody I still talk to holds it against you," Jovi amended. "I have no idea where Sagan went after discharge, not to mention how many others. There's a lot of us in Rubato, though, and we're all still sorting out coping mechanisms." A pause, then, "Personally, I usually thought you were funny."
Nick sighed, opening his eyes again and staring out at nothing in particular. "You and Skye," he agreed.
"Razo too," Jovi added. "And Robby, even when he gave you flak for it. He quoted you while trying to hold in a smirk too many times for it to be anything else, and that was before. Now that I've met some of his old friends from the war?" He let out a low whistle. "Most of them are polite enough, but Josue and a few of the others? When they get going, I feel like I oughta take notes."
He let out another deep breath, letting that knowledge, the feeling of it wash over him… and just… let go, a little. "Everybody that went early made it okay?"
"Yep. Got to an abandoned base in one of the sand seas that Cat used to work out of at breakneck speed, then took their time trying to sort out the rest."
Nick frowned. "Cat?"
Jovi shrugged. "Everyone agrees that, once they were clear? The first thing that kid did was put Robby in the grave. Skye's caught him dry heaving when they have to go over something from when he was Robby in detail, so… he's Cat, now." He shrugged. "At first brush it almost feels like he's a different person, but…" It was Jovi's turn to sigh. "Nick, a lot of what he did in the desert was showmanship. A shitty method-acting version of it with no room for outtakes, but don't think that the way he treated you-"
"I know," Nick interrupted. "I had to get some distance to see it, but… I know, Jovi." Hindsight being what it was, he could see how much Robby had changed even mid-conversation to boost him up, keep him focused enough to stop from shattering… and realize that he'd changed like that for everyone he talked to, except maybe Cory.
A line of tension he hadn't noticed before visibly drained out of Jovi's shoulders. "The steel core of him, that dogged resolve is the same, but… he's actually a pretty sweet kid, all around." He chuffed out a laugh. "Still a little terrifying, but not in the same way – he's just that smart, if that makes any sense."
Nick frowned. "You keep calling him a kid."
Jovi laughed. "Right? I'm an Alliance brat and I pulled off the ACET track, even if it was only by the skin of my teeth, before joining up at sixteen. However far the ACET kids are in their schooling, though, actual wisdom takes time, real world experience – I never would've guessed Robby was still shy of seventeen when he got tossed in the cages. He doesn't turn nineteen until the end of March."
"…Jesus," Nick muttered, trying to reconcile that. Robby had seemed like the penultimate everything for so fucking long, and he was four years younger than Nick?
"I know, right?" Jovi returned. "If it makes you feel better, he was leading small armies where most of the guys were at least ten years older than him during the war, and he was only fifteen then. So it wasn't exactly… out of the blue, for him."
"That doesn't make me feel any better."
"Yeah, me either. I just figured I should try."
Nick ground his teeth. "I didn't think anyone that young fought in the war." That was… God, it was so fucking wrong he didn't even know what to do with it. Cambyses had been wretched, but to fight in the war there would have been legalities involved, it would have had to go through government infrastructure. If any side was recruiting that young, then people should have heard about it! Heard and protested and maybe it wouldn't have gotten anywhere with the way Romefeller came down on media outlets, but there should have at least been rumors!
"Mm, not too many on Earth," Jovi decided. "OZ was recruiting them that young once they started their campaign in space, which is how you get people like Hilde Schbeiker. But dirtside, it was confined to recruiters looking the other way when kids lied about their age."
Fuckers. He supposed he never would've pegged Robby as under twenty, but still. It was the principle of the thing. Not that the Alliance's minimum age of sixteen was much better. OZ doing it openly though… well, it was proof of how absolute their control of the media had been, alongside how easy it had been to divide the Earth and colonies from each other. There probably had been rumors – just nothing anyone would credit.
"Princess Relena was only fifteen during the war," Jovi pointed out. "Dorothy Catalonia too, at least for the first half. Not to mention the gundam pilots."
"The girls' involvement was bad enough when they were non-combatants, and there's no way the gundam pilots came out of healthy home environments. The fact that the gundam pilots were so talented that their age has become a footnote in history doesn't change the fact that it was wrong for them to be in that position to start with."
"Hm."
Nick glowered at the other man. "It's about ethics, Jovi. When the government starts to sidestep basic ethics, that's when you know society's on the decline."
Jovi smirked. "I'm pretty sure Cat would agree with you – even as he pointed out that he volunteered and therefore isn't a factor in that equation."
"And where does he fall on the scale of shitty home life?" Nick asked pointedly.
Jovi grinned. "A pretty even mix between 'this will piss off my negligent dad' and genuinely believing that fighting was the right thing to do, I think."
"I rest my case." Then Nick frowned. "Not that I've talked to her much, but Inez Stanton barely ever mentions their dad."
Jovi grimaced. "That's where it starts to get really weird. Cat's mostly sure that Inez is family, but says they've never met and that Robin Stanton was some kind of failsafe identity, not his real name." At Nick's sharp look, he shrugged. "The family intrigue goes back a long ways and runs deep, I guess."
"Spies don't come from happy homes either," Nick pointed out.
"That's not…" He sighed. "I can't keep talking about this, it's about five kinds of convoluted and none of our business anyway. I came to make sure you were doing okay, and Tristan tagged along to try and show the middle schoolers what a real university looked like. We can absolutely dodge them if you don't think you're ready for that, or I can reintroduce you."
The change in subject threw him, and he stared blankly at Jovi while his emotions caught up to the words his brain registered. "Middle schoolers?"
"Right, that's an American thing… secondary schoolers? Not sure if that's the right word either, honestly – where the kids are usually age eleven to fourteen."
"I know what you meant," Nick agreed feeling slow. "But I'm still confused. Cory was the youngest, wasn't he?"
"Yeah, Cor got grabbed on some kind of do gooder project like you to help the refugees when he was twelve during that first cold summer. But Lionel was twelve when his family was evacuated to Africa during the Fall, and Danny was thirteen. The Libyan refugee camps never really got their school systems going apace, if they started them up at all before Cambyses swept in, so…" He shrugged. "Cor and Lionell – though it's Nelsen in public now, don't ask me why but he likes it – both seem to do a lot better on their schoolwork when they're together, and they do a pretty regular school day, only a little accelerated. Danny's a little more… like, he likes to touch base with the other two? But he can't focus on academics for long before he has to bolt and do something he finds a little more 'real world practical.'" He shrugged again, sighing. "Which is… pretty common, both within Rubato and in any of the school programs we've been setting up across Europe and Africa, come to find out. You spend too long out, whether it was for traumatic or economic reasons, it can be hard to find the old mind frame and just do school. There's some kind of perception change, a paradigm shift that happens when you've been out for too long, I guess? Danny's fast becoming our poster child for why part-time school is okay and normal, even at the lower education levels."
Nick swallowed, his own perception taking another hard shift. Cory had always been obviously young, he'd looked it and acted it, but… he'd never really thought about the other two's ages. Honestly, he'd rarely considered Cory's age in any real way, but… Well, shit.
Trying to buy himself time to reconcile those facts, he asked, "Didn't Danny have family to go back to?" Almost immediately he wanted to take it back, seeing how well he and his mom's reconciliation hadn't gone, but…
Jovi grimaced. "Yeah, Sheridan's home life is… not bad, exactly, but really complicated? He's home about half the time, but the other half, he's with Tristan or another one of us. His dad is trying, but with his brother… it's hard. The man thought he'd lost both his sons in the Fall and had finished grieving by the time the Strike Force came, has a pregnant wife now, even… and while he's more than thrilled that Danny and his brother made it, it's…" He sighed. "They're all trying, but it's a process."
Nick frowned. "Danny has a brother?"
"Yeah, apparently he was over in one of the western Libyan camps, at least by the time we were fighting our way out."
"Oh shit." He remembered those camps, both in passing relation before and when they'd stormed the place with Mitchell's soldiers. That… If you'd asked Nick before all the therapy started, he would have said none of those guys were salvageable.
His own mom had had a hard time reconciling with him and he was supposedly one of the best ones to come out of the desert. For someone who had given up and started over to find out he had surviving sons from both that ilk and Robby's camp? What a fucking nightmare. Sheridan had always been an easygoing, laid back guy, but if he was ever getting painted with the same brush as his brother that would set off anyone's temper. Not to mention how the two brothers might be interacting.
Jovi gusted out another sigh. "Yeah. They're muddling along, but it would definitely be way worse if Danny didn't have somewhere to run to when the steam builds up. Paxton's apparently doing pretty well with therapy and all, but… it's a process. The fact that he's three years older than the brother who 'figured out how to do it right' isn't helping any either."
"His name is Paxton?"
Jovi rolled his eyes. "The irony isn't lost on anyone, believe me. I explained this much to help avoid the awkward questions since Sheridan doesn't like going through the same song and dance of it when he wanders off to talk to his brother or dad or new stepmother. Apparently he really likes her, but Pax is bitter, and… it's a whole dynamic that none of us really have any place in beyond backing Danny, alright?" He shook his head again. "Anyway, do you want to say hi, or nah?"
Nick considered. "Tristan is Trisin?"
"Yeah, Tristan Barr, now. Cory is Cor, Lionell is Nelson, and Danny's just himself. Cat's off-world right now, so Cor sticks to either Trisin or Audi like glue, and Audi's busy. Tris really stepped up into his teacher cum life coach role for the kids and is loving it, though."
Hm. Tris really always had had a laid back, almost wise sort of view on the world, focused on people. Nick could see how that might be a good fit. And he'd always been close with Cory too. "Audi?"
"No one you know," Jovi dismissed. "Cat's old crowd gets complicated really fast, so let's just leave it for now. Yay or nay?"
Nick pursed his lips… and nodded. This… was basically what he'd wanted, right? And to get Skye's number. "Yeah, let's go say hi."
oOo
oOo
January 4th 199 – Saturday – Tivoli, Italy
"I liked that one more, actually. It… has a mood. But not…" An irritated noise came through the line. "I need to look up the vocabulary for this."
Jack grinned, holding down a chuckle. "If there is one, I don't know it. It's just music – people usually just describe how it makes them feel, I think." He considered. "There's probably terms for the precise sounds or instruments themselves, but I don't think that's what you meant."
Junior let out a noncommittal hum. "That seems poorly organized for something people pay so much attention to."
He didn't hold back the bark of laughter this time. "You're not wrong," he agreed. "I didn't make the system, I just navigate it."
That got him a snort of a laugh in return. "That's both a great and terrible excuse. Circumnavigate it instead."
He snickered a bit more. "What exactly do you think I've been doing, throwing songs at you, seeing what you like or not, and coming back with different ones? I figure once we narrow it down a bit more we can try genre names and see if they actually fit or not. After a certain point, you'll find bands referenced to each other for similarities."
"Mm, okay."
Music had turned out to be a confusing but surprisingly workable middle ground with Odin, in fair part because he had very little experience with it. The boy was amiable to most mental exercises and games, so far, but too often he apparently found many of them too easy to bother with – sudoku – or the things he did like were too intricate to have casual conversations about. Personally, Jack had to visually see code to work with it – while Odin apparently wrote programs in his head while bored, and would type them out in full later.
Audi apparently found it deeply admirable and obnoxious at the same time. Jack was mostly stuck on the possibility in the first place. If he hadn't seen the casual brilliance of his younger son firsthand more than once those first couple days, he might have thought she was exaggerating… but if she was, he didn't think it was by much. Math and coding seemed to be something of an absentminded hobby of the boy, and if he wasn't so physically present, he'd even say that that was Junior's calling. As it was, the mix of mental and physical at least left him somewhat well-rounded?
…
…Yeah, no, Junior was very definitively not well-rounded. He had so many gaps that it was hard to figure out what half of them even were. He'd started off thinking that at least some of the blank looks or odd silences were the boy trying to come up with a convenient lie or avoiding a subject, but the more they did talk the less sure he was about that theory. It had to be a factor at least sometimes, but…
Senior had always been a bit off. In a lot of ways Rhea had too, though hers had usually come across as more of a purposeful flair, with a 'what are you going to do about it, huh?' vibe. Even when her perspective had been skewed as fuck, it had managed to come off as something she was doing on purpose. They had been dating for over a year before he realized what he'd thought was a running joke about clowns was her belief that they were made up – like unicorns. And narwhals.
It was very hard to win an argument when you were also busy laughing yourself silly.
"That song… almost runs?" Odin tried, sounding contemplative. "Not walking, but the pace of it is strong, almost… overconfident power."
"The rhythm has a swagger to it," Jack agreed. Likening a song to a walking beat made enough sense. "A heady beat – almost a strut."
His son made an amused noise. "And there's some vocabulary."
Jack blinked, then shrugged a little, looking back towards the house. He could see Des through the window, but not Jake. "In my defense, I thought you knew those ones."
"I do now. Hn. Maybe I should ask Adam – the one you expected me to like caught his attention."
Adam. Another name to remember in Junior's surprisingly large social circle. "Another Rubato member?" he asked curiously.
"Technically. He usually keeps to himself, though. I thought Audi was trying to get you to come see the circus."
"She insisted on getting me a ticket for the weekend after next," he agreed, deciding to ignore the non sequitur. It was… a common issue.
Apparently something in his tone had given away his confusion, though. "It's Adam's circus." A hesitation. "He doesn't run it and I don't think he's been in a show recently, but his sister is… Hn. She's not in charge either, but the manager usually does whatever she tells him to."
Jack grinned. "Are they married?"
A snort. "He raised her," he corrected. "She said he was pretty close with their dad, so he and his wife took her in after a decent chunk of the circus became collateral in some kind of inter-Romefeller strike in 181 – she was vague on the details, but it sounds like they were caught on the edge of a firebombing. I've never seen any sign of Edwin's wife, so I think he's widowed? Cathy cooks for him at least half the time – they look out for each other."
He frowned. That… "He took in her but not Adam?" Jack clarified. The way he'd said that was…
"Mm. Adam's… like me. He got lost in the raid that killed their parents, and they thought he was dead until he wandered into the circus during the war, looking for a job." He made an amused sound. "I remember thinking it was strange how… loyal they were to him and okay with all the trouble we brought them back then – I guess a lot of it was that they were pretty sure it was him, but didn't want to say until they knew him better? Cathy started claiming him as her little brother early on, but she always just does what she wants. I guess she pulled out the old pictures to show him in 197, and it's… like you and me. The few things that aren't identical between him and his dad are almost a perfect match for their mom, and the baby pictures look feasible enough."
Oh, wow. That was probably something of a boon too; Odin having a friend with that kind of history helped normalize their own situation a bit. A friend from before or at least during the war, it sounded like. "It's pretty cool that they found each other like that," he decided. "He didn't remember he had family?" Like you, he didn't add. He was more than willing to blame Senior for that, the kid had been young and traumatized, but-
"I don't think anyone remembers before they turn two."
Shit. Well, that made the story even more miraculous, he supposed. "No, but he remembered enough to feel drawn to the circus," he pointed out.
"True." A pause, then, "I don't think I have anything like that."
Jack licked his lips. Maybe he'd gotten too used to Jake, but he hadn't actually thought Odin would say something so direct about their… issues. "Your situation was different." His brother-in-law had always been very focused on the boys, which was the point Jake always defended, but the way he'd directed that focus…
"The only consistent thing about my childhood was Odin." Junior continued. "Everything else came and went. We had a few favorites for equipment, but even that changed often enough. We'd stay for weeks in some places, and days for others. We spent almost six weeks out in the wilderness, once. It wasn't the only time we went tech-free, but definitely the longest." Another pause. "I wonder if that was actually a way to go off grid after a job was hot, actually. At the time it was just another thing to learn about, but… Hn."
He licked his lips again. "Maybe? I know he never took your mom camping." He was less sure about if he'd done it while he'd had both boys, since Junior wouldn't remember and Jake didn't talk about this kind of thing… but Jake had mentioned Senior doing a few stupidly risky gigs after the custody battle. A full tech holiday was a little extreme of a tactic, but at the same time…
"It's a good thing to understand," Odin decided. "Audi took to it well enough, though we never went as barebones as my father and I did. I just wanted her to have the survival skills – like everyone should know how to swim." He snorted out a laugh. "I've taken some colonyborn my age into the woods, and it's difficult to watch."
And there was another big difference between the boys. Odin genuinely didn't care about the subject of his mother. A comment like that with Jake would have brought questions, and if his oldest was in a decent mood they might spend an hour or more talking about Rhea. And while Junior wasn't shy about claiming Senior as his father, he didn't use familial titles as an active snub.
It was oddly freeing, even as it ached.
"I might be something of a comedy act out in the wilderness, myself," he admitted with a grin, wrapping one arm around himself and gripping the opposite bicep. "I know the basics in theory, but I've barely done any of it." He'd never been to Earth before getting out of prison, and he'd largely leaned into his strengths since coming down permanently. He'd dabbled a bit, especially since Des liked that ski lodge in the alps where you had to split your own firewood, but he didn't think that counted.
"It doesn't take long to pick up," Odin dismissed. "What I meant, though, is that everything nostalgic that stands out to me about my childhood centered on Odin – and with him gone, I haven't come across anything like the strong feelings I've seen Adam hone in on and follow. I started going by Odin in 197 because I decided I looked enough like him that there was probably something to some strangers referring to me as Junior when I was little. Though even then, I thought maybe that he'd just been lazy with our passports."
Jack blinked. That sounded like- "You didn't know your name?"
"No."
The fuck, Odin! "What did Senior call you?" he demanded.
"He talked to me, not about me."
Jack's stomach sank as a few more facts clicked into place. "Cat said you had your birth year wrong too."
"I have a few memories of Odin telling me it was my birthday, but it was always just a throwaway comment," his son admitted. "Without any kind of emphasis, I didn't… Hn. Audi got upset about me not knowing so we decided to make it up, and we picked August because I knew it had always been hot outside when he said it." There was a longer hesitation while Jack tried to process that before Junior added, "I think he just… didn't, that last year, and that's why I was two years off instead of one. After, I didn't bother to think about it; I'd already been claiming whatever age was convenient for what I was in the middle of, so I just… guessed."
He wanted to pull Senior out of his grave just to scream at him. The kid had already had identity issues and he'd…
Fuck!
Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he decided to just… be grateful this was a phone conversation. It was a hell of a lot easier to pull himself back together by pacing a bit through Des's hibernating back garden. It was beautiful back here most of the year, and it wasn't bad now, but…
Breathe. Senior was dead, Junior wasn't, and despite everything they were left with, it could be a lot worse.
Junior, meanwhile, decided to continue. "He was always depressed on those days, but those last two months were… not good. I remember being upset because he wasn't being fair, and he kept doing things he knew I didn't like, but… The more I think about it, I don't think L3-X18999 was the first time he tried to lose me."
Jack froze. "What do you mean?"
"He missed a rendezvous he'd been very clear about and I barely found him before he got on a shuttle off colony with a new name, about a month before he died. He brushed it off like it was a test, but he'd never done that before. And then there was… Hn. I think he was trying to get me mad at him, maybe."
He swallowed, then bit the bullet. Those extra facts were dizzying in their implications, but that didn't change what the boy had said. "You thought Senior was actively trying to 'lose' you the day he died?"
"Tch. He told me he was. I figured it was that colony in particular because with the ongoing construction it had only one viable port out; that it would be chaotic enough with the coup we knew was coming that he could get enough of a lead that I wouldn't be able to follow. But apparently he was willing to go a lot further than that to stop looking his regret in the face every day. I found another way out, after."
He was so angry he couldn't even see. Junior's tone was bitter, and resigned, but mostly sarcastic. He was probably rolling his eyes. The kid had apparently thought about this enough that it wasn't nearly as devastating as it sounded, hearing it fresh, but fuck if that made it acceptable. The snippets of timeline he'd gotten about the day Senior died had been thirdhand from what Jake and Lu told Des and his best friend had passed on, and he'd known large pieces of the picture were missing even on Jake's end, but fuck.
Jake had been… so sure that he had been meant to find Junior. That Senior had left him a trail he was supposed to follow, that maybe it had been so indirect to make it harder for Jack to step in again when custody came up, but… what if he hadn't? What if Senior just had been too depressed to try covering his trail? Jake was as good at tracking people as he himself was, some of it could have just been coincidence and skill, and the man had told his son he was about to abandon him. In the middle of a war-torn, partially constructed colony.
What the fuck.
"Jack?"
"I want to pull him out of the grave just to put a bullet through his skull," he snarled.
Almost immediately, the familiar horror, the dread sank in – because God damn it, he'd been doing so much better with this son, and this was the part where-
"Do we even know what happened to the body?"
He shuddered. "What?"
"The colonies generally cremate," Odin argued, tone mildly confused but… mostly curious. Curious in an idle way. "Or does he have a grave somewhere?"
He felt like he'd stopped cold out of a dead sprint, and tried to mask how hard he was breathing. "I have literally no idea." Jake had handled that. Given how Odin had had Rhea cremated he'd guess that was probably the route they'd go with, but why were they talking about this?
"Hn. Even if there was one, I don't think I would visit."
He clutched at the phone like a lifeline, shutting his eyes. For lack of any better ideas, he asked, "Why?"
"It's not a tradition I really understand," Junior decided. "Dead is dead. I don't see what would give me peace about seeing a gravestone. Also, he literally died while lecturing me about how to not turn out like him, so even if I agreed with the idea, trying to explain what I've done since or asking for advice is counter to the point."
He was sweating, but his heart was calming down, and his chest felt at least a little more normal… as he listened to his very calm kid try to logic out closure so very badly.
He thought about it only for a moment before asking, "Where did you read about this?"
Junior laughed. He laughed, bright and free and a little bit naughty, and clearly not upset in the slightest. "Moira suggested some of it, and then I tried researching online. It didn't make sense no matter which denomination got used as a focusing lens. If anything happens after death, there still isn't a viable route of communication."
…This fucking kid. Seriously. Taking another deep breath, Jack rubbed his eyes and asked, "Moira?" He was pretty sure he'd heard the name come up once, that first day, but he didn't remember the context.
"Mm. I don't have a mom, but Moira comes closest. She says she wants to meet you, but probably not until after they move up to Germany." An irritated noise. "They're… dragging out the process."
He blinked. Junior had…? No, I'm not ready for that. He'd parse out the idea of Junior seeing someone as enough of a mom to insist she wasn't later, when he didn't have an audience.
He wasn't about to get into the singular/plural there either. He very much doubted he'd get an actual answer if he asked, and it was a little too close to diving back into the mom thing.
He'd rather have control of his reaction the next time Junior was willing to bring this 'Moira' up. The sudden, deep, irrational hope that she wasn't a redhead, wasn't anything like Amarianna wasn't helping his world stay on axis.
Instead, he focused on the topic instead of the implications. "Do they own a house?"
Junior sighed. "Two houses."
He'd never owned real estate, let alone tried to sell it, but he'd heard enough talk to have something to say, at least. "That's generally a fairly drawn out process."
"It doesn't have to be," Odin immediately argued. "It actually isn't, I went out of my way to simplify it. But now they have to pack and she won't let anyone else do it, so it's going to take weeks."
Jack grinned sharply, feeling a little more like himself as he looked back into the house. Jake was visible through the window now too, looking both deeply invested in and amused by whatever he and Des were discussing. "I'm actually in the middle of helping a friend move right now myself, so I get that."
"It makes me appreciate furnished rentals," Junior returned, flatly. "Houses should already come with some things."
Jack's smile grew a little more genuine, even as he watched the easy back and forth between Des and his oldest. And really… it wasn't as bittersweet to watch as usual. They'd been doing a lot better, lately.
To Junior, he pointed out, "People like to customize though. And the longer someone stays in one place, the more opportunity they have for that. It builds up."
"I've noticed," was the dry response.
He laughed, shaking his head. "Is that what you're up to now, then?"
"No. Adam got the circus back down to Earth and we went to see him, then another friend asked us both for a favor, and it's getting complicated. At this rate, I'm probably going to be in Italy for another couple of days."
He blinked. "I'm in Italy right now, near Rome."
"I'm barely south of the cordon, on the west coast," Odin clarified.
Jack smirked. "You're going to be that explicit, but still not give me a name?"
"I stopped paying attention to the town names. We've been through three, and I'm not sure if I'm within city limits right now anyway." His tone was distinctly annoyed now, and overly tired. "Audi keeps texting me questions I can't answer long-distance because I'm not familiar with the model of equipment she's trying to assemble, and she's gotten anxious enough about messing it up despite what I say that I've told her to just focus on something else. Adam is winging this situation as badly as he did last fall and I'm still not convinced this is going to answer any of Kasey's questions in the first place, which he's going to whine about. I almost want to send her to go bother him, but will…" He sighed. "The kids would be happy, but that's petty. I've cashed in worse leads, and Adam's the one that pulled me in, not Kasey. I just don't want to be here."
Jack raised his eyebrows. He hadn't realized Odin was separated from Audi in the first place, but it was another important reminder of how different Junior was from Senior, he supposed. "If you don't want to be there, then maybe just…. make your excuses and go?" he suggested.
"Adam asked for my help," Odin negated immediately. "I can make fun of him for it, but I'm not leaving until he does. And anyway, now… now Xu and his crowd are coming because interests crossed. So even if it's a dead end for Kasey, so we should wrap up soon."
Jack smirked, rolling his eyes. He was pretty sure Kasey was the friend who hadn't wanted a fancy phone, but his son hadn't otherwise mentioned him again before now. "That was cryptic."
"Good."
His grin widened. "You could give them code names, if it'd make you feel better."
Odin snorted. "That would be worse."
"If you say so. It could be funny, though."
"Hn.. I'm not doing that."
Looking back into the house, Jack held back a sigh; it was probably about time to get back to work. "Well, I should-" He cut himself off as the unmistakable sound of assault rifles came through the line. "The fuck?" he demanded.
Odin made a happily relaxed sort of sound, like he was leaning into a deep stretch. "Don't worry about it."
"The fuck I'm not going to worry about it! Was that gunfire?"
"No."
"You're a shitty liar!" Jack snarled.
"Mm," Odin hummed agreeably. "It's a problem."
"Who is shooting at you?" he demanded.
"No one is shooting at me. Though it's debatable if anyone who opens with an automatic can shoot at all."
"That's not-"
"I'm going to go help Adam," Odin interrupted. "Maybe we'll get out of here before Monday after all."
"Odin-"
The line disconnected.
"Fuck!"
oOo
oOo
Time Was...
oOo
Does this count as a cliffhanger?
Next chapter is on page three and has three of eleven scenes done (somehow, despite being…. Half of what this one was supposed to be. Don't ask, even I'm not entirely sure how my brain works sometimes). I really love hearing from you guys, it ramps up motivation to steal every bit of time I can for this – man, if only my patients knew half the crap I was thinking of while I work…
Thoughts? Questions? I've discovered discord and gotten way more social…
