AN: Another brain-bug that won't leave me alone laterly. This one is inspired by a Battletech fanfiction I've been reading recently and the fitzgeraldofspace's CYOA, which I used as a basis for a rough plan to go forward. As always, I appreciate feedback.

Disclaimer: I do not own Battletech, Gundam Seed, or Gundam Seed Destiny. They belong to their respective copyright owners and publishers. This work is not created with any commercial aims.

Chapter 1

=Exile=

Part 1

=Exile=

1 January 3015
Ávalon City
New Avalon
Federated Suns

Medicine and alcohol don't mix at the best of times, even if you have a good excuse to indulge in either. In my case, I both had more than a good reason to drink myself into oblivion and at the same time, more than excellent one not to risk fucking myself more than I already was. The later was a tiny form cuddled into my side, into all the blankets so only a mop of a curly black hair was visible. That explained the chill I felt, which was probably what awoke me combined with a pounding headache and the distinctly unpleasant sense of my gut rising in revolt after last night. I tried to glare at Mia, the little blanket-thief, which only served to exacerbate my headache.

I shook my head at my little sister and got off the bed as slowly and carefully as I could in order to avoid disturbing her, then ghosted to the bathroom and closed the door behind me. A liberal application of cold water served as a shock to the system and a decent substitute to a kick in the pants. Only then I allowed myself to stare in the mirror.

The face that stared back was both painfully familiar, yet utterly wrong, and it wasn't the very visible scars along my chin, around my eyes, neither the deep lines going from my temples to hide under my short black hair. It was the big expressive eyes, small demure, perhaps even cute nose, and a heart-shaped face that until I went under the knife of those Liao butchers used to be pretty enough.

It was a female face and the scars did nothing to hide that. Another clue came in the form of a pair of small firm breasts and the lack of certain equipment. Yep, not a dream. Well, that wasn't quite right. Hopefully, almost everything that happened over the past few days was a dream, a very vivid and realistic hallucination borne from a bad combination of drugs and cybernetic implants.

While I stared bleakly at my mutilated face, which along with all the scars covering my body ensured that I could scarcely go anywhere incognito, I wasn't sure I could bring myself to believe such a pleasant lie, no matter how much I wanted to. My mind briefly went back to the drug-enhanced debriefing, which was part of the deal ensuring my protection as a political refugee from the Capellan Confederation, and more importantly, Mia's safety. It was supposed to be a more or less routine interview, a relatively easy and painless one considering that I was more than eager to collaborate. After everything, sticking it to the Capellans, and House Liao in any way I could, well that sounded like a nice bonus. I was even looking for the debriefing because of that, silly me.

I shook my head, struggling with my headache, and nearly collapsed on the toilet seat. Ever since the debriefing, my body felt off, it's balance was both right and wrong at the same time, and I had trouble because a part of me expected that my limbs were longer. That was merely one more unintended consequence from the interrogation, and when all was said and done, a side-show really. The big one? I didn't want to think about it, thus the unwise drinking last night with my minders. It was New Year's eve after all, and say what you will about the bastards, they agreed that I really needed to get smashed.

Another groan escaped my lips, one of the few parts of my face that didn't bear any trace of everything I've been through in either life I could recall and I closed my eyes, hoping that my head will stop feeling like a division of Battlemech played football with it last night. Note to self, don't go trying to out-drink MIIO bodyguards. While it's perfectly doable thanks to my implants, after they've been drunk under the table there might not be anyone willing to come in and talk me off from draining as much of the bar as I could. I vaguely recalled drinking enough hard alcohol to knock out at least a squad of troopers and implants notwithstanding, I was a relatively small woman nowadays.

That by itself was part of the trouble because ever since that be-damned debriefing I could remember being a man too, one not from around here at that… and even thinking about that royal mess made my headache spike. That's why once I was done in the bathroom, I skulked back to the bed and before I could think things through, gently unwrapped Mia from one of the blankets, before cuddling her half-asleep form and becoming dead for the world again.

The next time I awoke, I felt a lot better. For a few long, glorious moments, I could barely remember the nightmare of the last few days, then it came back with a vengeance. Memories of battles in a scale unseen from the "good" days of the Second Succession War, memories of fighting, and more importantly dying at least twice before being brought back with cybernetics not at all dissimilar to those stuck in me right now. Memories from a different life. If I was religious, or at least a spiritualist, I might have considered reincarnation, as impossible as it sounds. Being raised in the Capellan Confederation, with a crazy scientist as a father, well the only "spiritualism" that was not heavily frowned upon was the belief that House Liao was for all intents and purposes divine. I could recall buying the party line hook line and sinker as I was younger, though all that ended when my bastard of a father volunteered me to be a test subject for his projects. All in the name of the Chancellor and all that rot. Fuck Liao and fuck that fucking father of mine, I cursed in the safe privacy of my mind. My arms instinctively held Mia closer while I forced myself to relax. A few mental exercises helped in that regard, exercises that came from my second, impossible set of memories.

Mia stirred at that point. She squirmed in my arms, turned around, and scrunched her tiny nose, which was one of the few features we shared.

"Sis, you stink." She grumbled, twisted around, and hid her face in the covers.
"Message received loud and clear," I mumbled, ruffed the munchkin's hair, and unentangled myself from the blanket, heading towards the bathroom. Another shower was necessary. I frowned at that though. I got a shower when I came back last night, right?

Another note to self, no more drinking, like at all.

A cold shower later, I was wide awake and sitting in front of a mirror built around a set of cupboards, right above a very well-stocked make-up table. Makeup. As far as part of me was concerned, ensuring I looked as stunning as I could when I wanted to anyway, was the natural order of thing. Why wouldn't like turning heads? At the same time, part of me had no bloody idea what to do with any of the make-up supplies. My head hurt trying to reconcile the two sets of conflicting memories. On the bright side, my arms knew what they were doing, and soon I had a light make-up which made me feel a little bit better about all the scars I could see mutilating my face. The less said about the rest of my body, the better. No more light, almost see-through summer dresses for me… unless I wanted to scare the crap of anyone who came nearby anyway.

Fuck Liao, fuck the Capellan Confederation, and fuck father, the treacherous bastard!

All right, De

lliah, get yourself in hand girl, and stop cursing like a memetic sailor or you'll slip in front of Mia. Seeing my face in the mirror didn't help in that regard so I got up and got myself properly dressed for the day, not that there was anything to do. After the debriefing, we were practically under house arrest, primarily for our protection. The bright side there was that no one tried to take Mia from her possibly very crazy older sister, because if that happened, I don't know what I would have done. Then I had to go get plastered, painting myself in a very negative light, fuck me. I shook my head again, trying to find something to think about that wouldn't anger me further or try shoving me deeper into depression.

I moved away from the wardrobe and snorted when I saw that Mia had stolen all the blankets, again, and had properly cocooned herself. She was my little rock, the only reason I kept going. At the same time, there was a part of me that didn't even recognize her, no more than it recognized my face or anything else about my life. Just like I didn't recognize all those memories of war… and arguably much better life before it erupted. That strange Terra I remembered it had been relatively peaceful for decades before the war began. The life I remembered, growing up as a man no less, in the Eurasian Federation, a state that I was pretty sure had never existed on our Terra… or perhaps it did and Capellan education, even good one, was even more full of bullshit than I suspected… No, bad Delilah, that way lies even more madness and that's not what you need!
My eyes refocus on Mia's sleeping form. This… it was too long, too vivid to be a nightmare. What did it leave? Perhaps I've snapped, hopefully not, but well… It was the most plausible explanation, though for Mia's sake I hoped not. After all, with the Capellan butchers, chief among them father, rummaging through my head and the rest of my body, sticking all kinds of cybernetics inside, who knew what they fucked up. Or perhaps it was the drugs I had to take to ensure that my body didn't reject all the metal and kept working more or less properly with it inside, which was another can of worms that I didn't want to think about.

Well, those were options one and two. Number three, and that rubbed me particularly wrong, well it was reincarnation, in which case probably it was a combination of the drugs and the implants that somehow jolted loose memories from a previous life. That was almost

plausible or would be if what I could remember was from our history anyway.

It didn't help that according to those memories our world was nothing more than a fiction, a game! Frankly, I didn't want to go there, ever. Part of me wanted nothing more than to awake from this nightmare, be blithely ignorant, and make a new life for Mia and myself in the Federated Suns.

Another part of me was a ball of rage I kept under as tight control as I could manage, and it wanted nothing more than to tear strips from those who hurt me until there was nothing left from them. I wasn't sure who I loathed more, daddy dearest, the Capellan Confederation as a whole, or House Liao. Depending on the mood it could be either.

Then there wast the new part of me, who was appalled at the way the Inner Sphere tore itself apart during the last few centuries, and the less said about what it thought as far as what happened to Terra and the Terran Hegemony was concerned the better. Damn it, part of me was now apparently Terran patriot of all things. I didn't want to go there either. Various stray thoughts, generally centered around plotting that I wouldn't have thought about before didn't help my case!

I glared sulkily at the floor, feeling confined, trapped. It has been three or was it four days now since my debriefing and if anything, my head was even more of a mess than it was during the immediate aftermath.

A knock on the apartment's door startled me, briefly bringing me out of my funk. What did my minders want, because it couldn't be anyone else? I stalked towards the door, falling into a combat stance, something I wouldn't have known how to do a few nights ago, ready to spring into action.

"Miss Veil, we need to talk." I recognized the gruff voice of one of my minders, Mr. Smith, almost certainly not his real name.

I went to the door and opened it while placing my body to the site, in case of unpleasantness. It was Smith all right – he wore a replica of his favorite suit, a dark blue one, which wasn't too cheap, neither expensive enough to stick out in most of the City. I blinked at that though, which came from left field.

"Yes?" At least he had bloodshot eyes, so he hadn't fully recovered from last night's drinking. Good. Misery loves company.

"There has been a complication concerning you and your sister." The middle-aged operative explained in a hushed tone.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Not from our side, I'm glad to report, Ma'am." His smile was either genuine or the next best thing. "It regards your father. By all accounts he is dead, and well…"

I stood at the door, gaping like a speared fish. The bastard was dead, or was he?

"Extrapolate." I hissed and went out into the corridor of the safe house, closing the door behind me.

"I'm not clear on the details, however, my boss is reasonably sure Ricardo Leng is dead, which brings me to the reason I'm here this early Ma'am. Your father left you an inheritance and arranged for it to be delivered to you through one of the more respected lawyer firms on New Avalon."

Alarm bells rang in my head.

"It's a trap."

"The possibility has crossed our minds, Ma'am." Smith nodded, then looked around. "It might be better to continue this conversation in the cafeteria. You look like you could use a hot cup of coffee and a bite to eat. Besides, what we'll be discussing is not exactly secret."

"It isn't?" I looked at Smith as if he just spouted a second head.

"Walk at me and I'll explain what I've been briefed on. Lisa will be around momentarily with breakfast for your sister."

I nodded at that. Lisa was one of our minders, well, Mia's minder anyway, and the vibe I got from her was of a soldier, not a spook. The vibe I got over the last few days anyway. Before that? She merely appeared like a nice older lady, which shows what I knew… know, whatever.

While walked towards the cafeteria downstairs, Smith briefed me. "In short, while you were recovering, a lawyer firm contacted our government about Leng's last will or at least the part that concerns you."

That much-made sense, kind of. The way we ended up on New Avalon ultimately became public enough, as well as the fact that we were now officially under the protection of House Davion. The media circus around what little had been released about what happened to me was the primary reason I did my best to stay away from any source of news for weeks now. In a saner world, the publicity surrounding our situation would be kind of a shield by itself. Here and now? It was a dagger pointed at our throats if we ever lost House Davion's protection.

"As far as I know, they're clean and the inheritance is real enough. Given the circumstances, we're aware of most details and I'll be briefing you about them over breakfast." Smith continued without losing a beat. If he noticed my deer-stuck-in-the-lights expression, he said nothing about it.

"It's a trap, it has to be."

"That's why we proceed carefully. As far as this being a trap, well it's possible. Liao isn't the most stable of people or Houses in general." My minder shrugged.

I snorted at his words. What a charming and polite understatement that was.

We got to the cafeteria, finding it almost empty. Jane, my other minder from last night was here, nursing a coffee. She had a large pot on the corner table she preferred, along with three trays loaded with food. Lisa was here too, coming our way carrying Mia's breakfast. I smiled at her in gratitude, a gesture she returned with a kind, motherly smile of her own.

"I'll look after the little one, don't worry, Delilah," Lisa promised and headed upstairs.

We sat on Jane's table and I couldn't help it but look envious a the curvy, taller woman. Where did the Feds find them? Almost every woman I met since I arrived on New Avalon was taller than me, damn it! The red-head raised a well-sculptured eyebrow my way then gave ma a betrayed look. At a closer examination, she did appear to be worse for wear after last night. Good, more misery to make my company.

"You have no right to look this chipper," Jane grumbled in a raspy voice, which for once didn't sound like melting honey.

"There are a few fringe benefits of all the stuff stuck in me," I grumbled and my covetously grabbed at the coffee pot. It was hod, black, and very strong. I poured myself a cup and absentmindedly made it navy special – with enough sugar that when I put the spoon in it had little trouble staying vertical in the center of the cup.

Jane's eyebrows tried to hide in her shoulder-length sensible hair, while I looked questionably at her. She merely nodded at my coffee and I shrugged.

"Mr. Smith, you were saying?"

"Well, legally, everything appears to be in order, at least that's what our lawyers told my bosses' boss." My minder shrugged. "Not my department. We'll have a trustworthy lawyer come to meet you later today to go over the details with you before you meet your father's lawyers if you wish to."

"We have it on good authority that you'll want to meet them," Jane added.

I took a sip of the coffee, which was like a kick in the butt, thus just right.

"You don't say." I gave her a less than amused look.

"Don't glare at the messenger, Delilah." Jane chided.

"The good news is that you're rich." Smith continued. "How much, well you'll need to see our lawyer and if you want, contact an outside one to consult as well."

"What do you mean I'm rich? We got here practically only with the clothes on our backs and that was really what the dropship crew could spare." My eyes went back to Smith, while my mind struggled to make sense of this.

"Eat. Drink your coffee and when you're thinking straighter we'll continue." Jane declared, then shushed Smith when he tried to protest. I was getting the vibe that he was like a kid with a piece of news they couldn't wait to share, something very odd as far as he was concerned in my experience.

I silently followed Jane's advice. Say what you will about her, she almost always spoke sensibly, just like Lisa.

After polishing off my breakfast and topping it with two Navy Specials, I felt more alive than I've been in days or so it seemed. Even my churning mind got a bit more peaceful.

"Now we can continue." Jane allowed.

"Well, I'll get the possibly unpleasant part first. You're right to worry about a potential trap. Part of the inheritance is a sealed case that arrived this morning. It is DNA locked and it is currently being examined as we speak. The recommendation from above is to get a blood sample of you and then use a drone to open it at a secure location in case it's a Maskirovka special or something in that vein."

"Sensible." I didn't comment on the fact that this way MIIO would know what the case contained before me. If I was properly paranoid, I would say that I might not get to see anything particularly important from that case, not a heartening though, then again it wasn't like I wanted anything from my bastard of a father. On the other hand, if my benefactors told me that it was a good idea to go along, it wasn't like I had much of a choice.

This didn't make for a happy Delilah.

"From what we gathered, Leng has sent you a lot of hardware, probably recovered from the SLDF cache…" Smith trailed off when I stiffened.

The same cache where he found the implant's schematics, or the implants themselves, I wasn't positive on which, before he volunteered me as a guinea pig. It was an honor, it was for the betterment of the Capellan Confederation and what the Chancellor would wish, he told me. I even believed him before they began cutting me… I shuddered at the memory and closed my eyes, trying to get away from it.

Jane hissing something at Smith got me back into the real world, where I found myself rubbing my hands around the scars over my bones. I blinked in confusion. This was the fastest I recovered from

a flashback and there weren't even drugs involved.

Then I remembered… my other memories, this wasn't the first time I now recalled being cut up, though at least the last time it had been to save my life. That was another mind-fuck by itself. Until recently, the implants, what father did to me, it was only pain and betrayal. Yet, now they were something that I felt made me strong as well, they were a second chance.

Honestly, I didn't know how to feel about that, beyond the obvious – even more shit than I needed tons of therapy over.

"Sorry about that." Smith sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and refused to look me in the eyes.

"Anything else?" I bit off. "How did he do it anyway?"

"We aren't sure. We now know which ship is carrying it and I can assure you, Ma'am, that everything will be checked with a find-tooth comb before you have to go anywhere near it if you want to in the first place."

"That's good." I nodded in relief. "You still want me to meet the lawyers?"

"That would be required, yes. Otherwise, there might be legal complications."

"You might have a good case to sue us otherwise," Jane smirked.

"Whut?" Really? It wasn't like any of us lacked the knowledge of my particular situation.

Seeing my confusion, Jane frowned, then rubbed her forehead.

"Delilah, we've been over this before. We aren't the crappies. We aren't going out of our way to screw you for fun." She spoke in a soothing voice.

I've had that conversation before and I didn't believe it then, just like I didn't buy it now.

Jane cursing the Capellan Confederation under her nose? That being genuine I could buy.