29-May-2004
Tetractys: Geburah, I
Rating: R for violence, language, adult situations
Warnings: character death may occur, some angst
Pairings: 4x5x4 developing into 4/5/M, 1+R, 2+H, 2x3x2, others still showing up...
Archived: sweetlysour & gwaddiction
Comments welcomed quite happily! this chapter was harder to write
because it's been a bit, but I had Kagemihari's lyrics to inspire me.
This chapter uses bits from her song Watching Over You, with minor
modifications. http://kagemihari.tripod.com/watching.htm
Thanks to all who read, commented, and especially those who badgered
me for more - you know who you are, and you know I needed it. ;D
0800 GMT; 1400 local
Hong Kong, China
Duo blinked at the snack in his hand, and gave Hil a suspicious look. "This is edible?"
She hissed at him, and put her hand over his, folding the sheet over. The airline stewardess smiled at them as she trotted past, a blanket in hand, and Duo fell silent until she'd moved on. In his hand was a square of pressed fruit, no larger six inches on a side, and it was only once Hil moved her hand away that he realized there was writing on it.
"Memorize," she said. "Then eat up."
0900 GMT; 1500 local
Barjarmasin, Indonesia
Trowa pulled the blanket up around his chin, trying to get comfortable despite the fact that commercial airplanes never had enough legroom, in any world. Curling a little on his side, he stared out the window at the darkness beyond, imagining homes and towns and fields below. The forests would be quiet except for birdsong, perhaps an owl hooting in the distance, small rustlings of nocturnal animals hunting for midnight food.
Jakarta, Singapore, Bangkok, refuel in Nah Trang...
He didn't know where Duo and Hil would be going; his edible note hadn't contained that information. Three tickets, three separate airlines and routes, with the Gundams smuggled into the belly of three other planes. Hil had explained this was how she'd been captured with her Gundam, six months before, the one time she'd gone on the same plane as Deathscythe.
Trowa shook his head when the stewardess offered him a pillow, and sighed, shifting again. The older man next to him grunted in his sleep when Trowa bumped him, and Trowa had to close his eyes against the sudden ache of missing his teammates. He'd hoped to fly with Duo, and had lingered at the departure bay. But his flight had been called and he'd nodded in an unspoken, understood 'see you again' and left. Hil had shouted something to Duo as Trowa was leaving, but when Trowa inquired over the 'com, Duo had only told him to have a safe trip and muted his end.
Land, Trowa thought. And then wait.
0930 GMT; 1330 local
Astana, Kazakhstan
"Are you sure you're--"
"Heero," Lena sighed. She shifted her weight to her injured leg to demonstrate, and hoped Heero missed the slight flinch. His eyes narrowed, and she realized he hadn't. "It's not that bad. It's just sitting in a truck for five hours makes me a little stiff."
Heero nodded, and turned to stare out the gas station window at the truck being refueled. A second, waiting its turn, held Talon, and he imagined he could see into the belly of the truck's cargo, where two mechanics were battling bumpy roads, excessive heat, road sickness, and a dearth of the right tools to fix Talon in time.
"Hey," Lena whispered, catching him on the arm. "We have a few more minutes before your ride takes off... " She threaded her arms around his waist, pulling him close. He didn't react at first, then slowly put his arms around her, bending until his forehead rested against her shoulder. Lena was startled. "Heero?"
"I'm worried about them," he said. He sounded surprised, and she frowned, running her hands through his hair, but waited to see if he'd say more. "I've never been worried about them before, but now I am... "
"That's how it works," Lena said, seeing the driver looking around by the truck. "Hey... your ride's ready."
Heero kissed her quickly, hard on the lips, and was gone.
1000 GMT; 1800 local
Tokyo, Japan
"Wake up, sir," a voice called, and Duo sat up, instantly wide awake.
"Time?"
"An hour and twenty minutes until sundown," the voice said.
It was heavily accented, and Duo threw back the blankets, shoving his feet in his boots. Weary, he scrubbed at his face with his hands, then stood up, stretching. The figure in the doorway shrunk back a little, and Duo grinned.
"I'm fine," he assured the man in flawless Japanese.
The man was startled, then bowed. "You have an excellent accent," the man replied, and Duo snorted to himself. For most cultures, that compliment always came with the same tag: 'for a foreigner.'
"News from the others?" Duo switched back to English, and grabbed his coat, shrugging into it. It had been rainy when he'd landed in Tokyo, a resistance leader meeting him at the airport dressed as a private chauffeur. Five hours of sleep and non-airplane food, and Deathscythe Hell should be ready somewhere north of the city. First target: the base at Osaka.
"Radio silence," the man chastised.
"Figured it was worth a shot," Duo said, following the man down the narrow hallway of the old office building. "So where's my buddy?"
"My cousin will drive you," the man said, opening the back door. A small car was waiting in the alleyway, its engine running. Duo bowed quickly, pleased when the man responded with a smile. Then he dashed through the rain to the waiting car. An hour's drive and his mission could finally begin, and he could forget the fact that the man who'd offered him shelter wouldn't live through the night.
1000 GMT; 1600 local
Banjarmasin, Indonesia
Trowa leaned against the door, watching the resistance group play poker. Despite their apparent casual attitude, their eyes constantly strayed towards the clock on the wall. A small series of numbers acted as reminder for sundown, and Trowa sighed, trying to get comfortable. He'd contemplated joining them for poker, but there was no way to drown out the chatter in their heads well enough to keep from winning, or too obviously losing.
He checked the clock again. At an hour until sundown, he headed out, and began the final checks on Broadarms.
Jakarta, Singapore, Bangkok, refuel in Nah Trang...
Six hours to hit three major bases, refuel twice, reload three times, and cover more than two thousand miles. Trowa pushed open the door to the hangar, and stared up at Broadarms. He'd sleep well tomorrow, he figured. He wasn't sure where, but wherever it was, it'd be the sleep of the truly tired, or the dead. And either way, it would still be the sleep of the damned.
1100 GMT; 1700 local
Leninogorsk, Kazakhstan
"Run systems checks now," Cat announced. "Sundown in one hour, forty-seven minutes."
Lena nodded absently at the display and continued to run the diagnostics. "Ten more minutes and I'll move out. I think there's a fault in the backup gyro motors," she murmured.
"Fuck," Cat replied. "I busted my ass over those. What're the symptoms?"
"Loose," Lena said, her gaze fixed on the scrolling lines of error reports. "Did you change back to metric on the attachments? It's rattling slightly. I can hear it, too."
"No, kept the Brit replacements," Cat said, and sighed. "Sorry about that. You want to catch up with us?"
"Hell, no," Lena said. "I'm hitting that plant with both barrels, damn it."
"Wing ready," Heero reported, his screens coming online. He flashed a stern look at the two women. "Any other mission details?"
"No word of changes over the secured channel," Cat said. "See you both in Marseilles."
"A few less Ma in the world would make us all happy," Lena said, chuckling wickedly at the thought of the waiting mobile suit plant. She cracked her knuckles, checked the readouts, and figured it could finish on the way. The jets fired up, and she checked the warning lights, dampening the main radar crystals before lifting away from the truck to hover in the air. Talon transformed with a creaking of metal, and she swore silently at the mechanisms that complained for better grease. "01, out. See ya on the flip side."
"Roger that," Heero replied. His screen showed him flipping through the systems check with cold efficiency, before he, too, lifted up, going through the Temurah process into bird-mode. The jets roared temporarily, then he was gone in a flash, Heavyarms close on his tail.
Lena licked her lips, ignored the stabbing pain in her thigh, and kicked at the footgears. Talon tore through the night sky, and she could only grin at the experience of being back in the pilot's seat where she belonged.
1200 GMT; 1000 local
Reykjavik, Iceland
"Wouldn't it wouldn't be better just to tell us right out?" Quatre eyed the note written on the strip of pressed fruit.
Meiran shrugged. "We've always done it this way. It may seem low-tech to you, but it works for us." She grinned suddenly, and leaned back in the deck chair, staring up at the bright blue sky. "Besides, it's yummy. Chock full of sugar."
Wufei snorted, scanning his snack quickly, committing it to memory within seconds. Then he tore it into strips and tossed it overboard. Smirking, he leaned against the railing and crossed his arms. "I'll pass on the sugar."
"Spoilsport," Meiran muttered.
Quatre chuckled, and took a bite of his. Raising his eyebrows at Wufei, he was about to take another bite when Wufei grabbed Quatre's snack and got rid of it as well. Quatre made a rather undignified yelp.
"No, Winner," Wufei chastised. "I am not going to be stuck in close quarters with you while you're dosed on sugar."
Meiran gave Wufei an appraising look, while Quatre threw up his hands and looked disgusted. "I am not that bad," he grumbled.
"Lots of energy?" Meiran arched an eyebrow.
"Too much," Wufei retorted.
Meiran's smile grew lascivious, Wufei blinked, and Quatre paused in his sulking long enough to leer while he spoke. "Gimme two, and we'll see what kind of damage... "
"Follow the breadcrumbs," Meiran said, pulling her own message strip from her pocket. Waving it with a flourish under Quatre's nose, she headed back through the ship's deck door, down to their cabin.
The two men followed without hesitation.
1400 GMT; 2000 local
Surat Thani, Malaysia
Broadarms swung to the left. Another short burst from the Gatling gun and the ammunitions bunker exploded, rocking the Gundam. Trowa hit the radio, running through the frequencies one more time until the system latched onto the base's secure channels. Two Ma approached, moving slowly, their low-range guns at the ready. Broadarms' shoulder-plates fired two missiles, lighting up the Ma in warped silhouettes against the Hong Kong sky.
The warning system beeped, and Trowa yanked back on the hand controls, twisting his wrist a bit to slam Broadarms back down on the tarmac, facing the mobile suit storage buildings. A flick of his thumb and the missile pods on Broadarms' legs flew open, locking into the target. The roar of their departure made Trowa smile, just a bit. The two bunkers exploded upwards, turning the night sky to red. The ground shook, and shrapnel pattered against the Gundamian plates on Broadarms' exoskeleton.
Nine less Long, Trowa told himself. I wonder how Duo's doing.
1600 GMT; 2000 local
Qyzylorda, Kazakhstan
Wing unfolded from bird-mode at the center of the base, beam cannon raised as the Gundam landed on the concrete courtyard. The cannon whined, charging up, and Heero locked on the first target. A single shot decimated the hangar. The main explosion was echoed by a series of smaller ones and the stored mobile suits went sky-high, one after the other. A second shot took out the ammunitions bunkers, and the third leveled the dormitories. Heero could see small figures running about, between the flames.
He ignored them, checked the read-out provided by the Kazakhstan resistance sources, and fired two more shots at the remaining buildings. Rising from the fires, he kicked at the footgears, ran through the Temurah process, and sped away from the base. His next target was two thousand miles north-north-west, and he needed to move fast before Aral realized they were next on the list.
1600 GMT; 1400 local
Narsarsuak, Greenland
"Nuuk Foundation Base," Quatre announced, flipping the switches to bring Sandstone to life. The screens glimmered, then kicked in, showing Meiran belting herself in while Wufei ran a systems check in Shenlong. "I'll take point. Mei, you do the west side. Wufei's external lookout."
"Confirming departure routes now," Mei's crisp voice came over the line. It was a half-heartbeat behind the movement on her screen, which made the distance seem greater, but she smiled, that same quirked amusement as though they'd only left their shared bed a few minutes before.
Quatre grinned back, and fired up Sandstone's jets. "See you at the party."
"Winner," Wufei snorted. "You've been hanging with Maxwell for too many years."
1800 GMT; 2400 local
Beijing, China
"You sure they weren't expecting us?" Duo cursed a few more times for good measure. Deathscythe Hell spun, and the momentum letting the twin beam scythe cut through two Go without stopping. Hil shouted something and Deathscythe Hell dodged, kicking upwards to miss an incoming blast from a Ma.
"This is only half what the Seoul base can muster if they were all awake," Hil retorted. Her face on the screen showed a sharp frown briefly crossing her face. She contorted in her seat, reaching up quickly to yank on the buster rifle mechanism, dropping it back into place. "Timing, Maxwell!"
"It's everything, babe," he shouted back. There was no need to yell, but over the whine of the scythe, everything faded. "I checked those packs five times, damn it." He glanced at the countdown. Thirty seconds, and he'd find out if the resistance had gouged them on the price or if those packs really were double-leaded.
Hil's answer was incomprehensible, covered by her own scythe slicing through a Ma. Moving past the explosion, she narrowed in on the dormitories. The scythe cut through the temporary buildings, the beam sparking against the concrete. The slice glowed red briefly before the material caught.
Deathscythe Hell fired its jets, lifting up to hover, active cloak open. Duo smirked, seeing four more Yang exit a bunker. He dropped down down between them, chuckling softly.
"Behind you," he whispered, a taunt they couldn't hear, but their radars gave the warning. Two swung, and Duo feinted, twisting the scythe to jab one Yang's knee joints. Spinning the scythe over its head, Deathscythe Hell caught the two Yang behind it, ripping through the metal plates. The Yang exploded, and Duo continued the move, cutting into the remaining two. He'd just retracted the beam and lowered the cloaking mechanism when the first explosion rocked the base.
"Fuck! Yes!" Hil screamed, and Deathscythe shot up from the dormitories.
Glass and metal streamed in flaming arcs, as one building after another exploded outwards. Duo watched the chain reaction through the screen, only taking a second to be satisfied with the results.
"Gotta shop with those guys more often," he announced, half to himself. "They've got some seriously powerful shit."
"Move on out," Hil ordered. "This place'll be a crater in ten more seconds."
"Sure thing, babe," Duo answered. He kicked the footgears and yanked upwards on the hand controls. Deathscythe Hell shot up into the sky, and he could see Deathscythe following, appearing in the billowing smoke like an angel of death. Switching into bird-mode, Duo gunned it and headed for Beijing, six hundred miles west-north-west. He waved to Hil on the screen as she turned towards the south, to meet up with Trowa in Shanghai. He smacked several buttons and called up a recording he'd uploaded from his small music disc before departure. Wufei's even baritone filled the cockpit, and Duo relaxed into the flight.
"I'm protecting you, sword of truth defiant, a fiery defense... "
Hope you're doing okay, guys, he silently told his absent teammates. The realization of his thoughts amused him, and made him feel somewhat odd. Alone again, with Deathscythe - even a modified version like Deathscythe Hell - and he was fifteen again, in his heart, striking and fighting alone, like he'd been trained.
"I'll stand before you, standing strong, casting shadows in the dark... "
And yet, he thought, I'm not alone now, am I. Not forever, at least. He grinned to himself and settled back, watching the dark waters skimming below Deathscythe Hell, below the radar range. He hummed with the melody, the almost strident insistence of the melody hammering in time with the engines thrumming under his body.
"They'll have to go through me, to get to you... "
2000 GMT; 2400 local
Yekaterinburg, Russia
Lena was limping by the time she reached the edge of the mobile suit plant. She scrambled over the fence, catching her jeans on the edge of the barbed wire. With a yelp she fell, hitting the ground with a solid thud. She was up immediately, panting, and hit the detonation switch.
Even at two hundred feet, the blast was enough to throw her backwards a few feet. She lay in the dirt, laughing and watching the fire's arc send sparks into the sky. Lena grinned, a wolfish look few ever saw, and got up. Brushing herself off, she headed into the small patch of woods to the park where she'd left Talon.
"Nizhniy Novgorod is next," she whispered. Lena rolled the unfamiliar city names around in her mouth, and grinned when she saw Talon's silent bulk waiting for her. "I always said I wanted to see the world," she muttered to no one in particular.
2100 GMT; 1700 local
Nuuk, Greenland
"Fucking A, these bastards are fast." Meiran shot off another round from the beam cannon, and snarled when one of the Go managed to dodge. "Hold still, asshole!"
"Mei," Quatre admonished, "they can't hear you." He hit the detonation on the bombs, lifting Sandstone from the tarmac out of range.
"They can if I scream loud enough!" Nataku fired another round from the beam cannon. The last two Go were shredded. They toppled backwards, and Nataku turned in place, beam sword at the ready.
"Movement in the dormitories," Wufei called. "Going in."
"Finish it, Nataku."
"Roger," Meiran answered. Nataku's jets flickered white against the bloody backdrop of burning metal, and a second later two massive explosions almost drowned out her quiet laughter. "Idiots," she muttered. A secondary storage unit for mobile suit fuel had been directly adjacent to the explosives bunker.
Sandstone fired off another round from the Vulcan cannon, and the shot went straight through the main doors of the mobile suit storage units. The roof peeled back with the force. The jet fuel in the mobile suits ignited, continuing the reaction down the line.
"Reinforcements cleared," Wufei said. "Picking up chatter on frequency eight-nine-point-oh-seven-three. Two hours before the nearest base provides support."
"Isolation, a beautiful thing," Meiran announced. "I've always loved the--" A bunker exploded, and Nataku swayed from the shockwave. "--peace--" A second bunker went up in flames. "--and--" A third followed the first two, billowing smoke blanketing the night sky. "--quiet."
"Well, look at that," Quatre drawled. "She's always noisy."
"Next time, we try using a gag," Wufei muttered through the 'com system.
"I heard that, Chang," Meiran said. She couldn't turn off her screen fast enough; both men could see she was blushing. "Catch you on the flip side. Long out."
2200 GMT; 400 local
Mandalay, Myanmar
"Fuck, fuck," Duo muttered. "I just want to lie down somewhere."
"Two more hours," Trowa coaxed over the temporary link set up by the rebels across encrypted internet channels. Duo was up in Dibrugarh, and Trowa was refueling in Mandalay, three thousand miles south-east. It was only a short break for Trowa, after smashing his way across southern Asia. Hil had gone north, through the wastelands, to do bombing runs over several quarries where the Foundation's mobile suit alloy was mined and smelted.
Duo yawned loudly. "Wish you were here," he said. He sounded like he was joking, but Trowa could feel the longing underneath.
"Two more hours," Trowa repeated. He checked the diagnostics on Broadarms' Gatling gun, satisfied the damn thing wouldn't shake off until it was time for him to collapse and the mechanics in Toshkent to straighten things out. Then he could sleep eight hours... only to get up and do it again.
"If this don't smoke the bitch out," Duo griped, "she's either dead, catatonic, or given up already and just didn't bother to send us an invitation to the surrender."
2400 GMT; 400 local
Kermanshah, Iran
"Yes!" Cat cried in gleeful fury, and swung the Gatling gun. The carrier planes were destroyed in a hail of low-grade explosives, the ammunitions onboard doing the rest of the work for her. In the distance, she could see the belching smoke rising from the Moscow airport.
"03." The resistance leader's voice came over the 'com. The static blocked out most, and he was too far for visual confirmation, but he sounded somewhat pleased. His voice was thick with the accent of the Caspian Sea. "You're clear, we can take it from here, ma'am."
"Good," Cat said. "Take care of yourselves."
Heavyarms' jets roared, pushing the suit upwards, and she transformed into bird-mode. Swooping gracefully around the panicked base control tower, she sent two final missiles at the tower. Soon it was burning as fiercely as the communications deck. Cat twisted the throttle, and pointed Heavyarms towards Aleppo. Talon and Wing should be meeting in Moscow, and she spared a second's thought to send them best wishes in the form of many explosions and the corpses of dead Yang.
0100 GMT; 1900 local
Toronto, Canada
"Hit and run down the coast," Meiran's report came. Her satisfied tone was loud and clear, even if it was deencrypted words on a screen. "Haven't bombed like that in years."
"Ready for the Norfolk base?" Quatre finished the diagnostics, typed in his line and sent it back to her. He flipped several switches overhead, shifting control back to manual once the systems check was done. "I'm expecting you'll have resistance on that one."
"Noise on frequency one-hundred-oh-one-point-seven-four." Meiran added a sideways smiley face, and it made Quatre chuckle. "Gundams are being sighted up and down the coast. Is there one of us in Old Florida?"
"Not the last time I checked," Quatre replied. He took Sandstone down closer to the water, running across Lake Erie and headed for Detroit. Angling slightly west, he curved around the deep-ground Foundation personnel bunker, dropping three mid-level explosives near the marked ventilation entrances. He was gone before the on-base guards could do more than flip on the lights in their offices.
"Heading west, out of range in ten minutes, going to radio silence," Quatre sent after a few minutes of clear air space behind him.
"Hey, one thing, 04," Meiran replied. "When I was running backup on Shenlong, he was singing something."
"Wufei?" Quatre frowned, then nodded, certain he knew the song. "Did it go something like: I made a promise, branded on my heart... I will never let them hurt you, no, never let anything touch you... "
"Yeah... is he going to be okay?"
"Hell, yeah," Quatre assured her. "He was just letting you know that you're truly part of his team, now."
0200 GMT; 0600 local
Aksu, China
"Dawn in half-hour," Hil warned over the long-distance relay. Duo's answer was faint, and Trowa's impossible to catch. By her estimation, they'd covered ninety percent of their goals, but they couldn't continue once the sun came up. They'd be too easy to spot from the ground, despite flying just below mach one for the duration of the night. Even relative silence couldn't protect them from prying eyes in bright sunshine.
"02," Duo's voice came in. "Relaying 03's confirmation of arrival in Vishakhapatnam. He's on the ground and being escorted to dinner and bed."
"Good," Hil responded. She was about to say more, when she heard something filtering through the frequency. It was rough, but it sounded like singing, and it took several minutes for it to resolve itself into lyrics.
"I will fight for you, if need be I will die for you... "
Hil blinked, and ran Deathscythe's communications program through again, refining the frequency. The small village was ahead, its fiery beacon in one of the fields welcoming her to a safe resting spot. She kept the lines open as long as possible, trying to hear the rest of whatever Duo was playing.
"Dragon fierce I will defend your heart, even if it costs me mine... "
0300 GMT; 0500 local
St. Petersburg, Russia
"Oh, hell," Lena moaned, see the ranks of Yang standing attention at the St. Petersburg port. They were guarding the bunkers identified as ammunition on the Gundam's onscreen map, and she chewed her lip before sweeping to the side, arcing around the city's docks towards the outer flanks. "Change in plans, Talon," she told the Gundam.
Her reply was exactly what she'd expected: a visual confirmation of the long shore piers leading to the ships in dry-dock. Here the main carriers sat, dark and silent in their mechanical sleep. Lena twisted the hand-throttles, slamming her thumb down on the firing button in rapid succession.
Behind her, the carriers lit the night sky, their screaming fire competing with the northern lights in the distance. Lena checked the map, and turned Talon towards the south-west. An hour and a half, roughly, and she'd be ready for refueling and reloading before decimating Warsaw Base at Heero's back.
Four more hours, she told herself. The two 05s and 04 would be starting soon, and the two 02s and 03 were probably already asleep, hunkered down in some tiny rebel base in Kashmir or western China. She hoped, at least, that they'd made it that far.
Like it matters anyway, she thought. In the morning - or night, as the case may be - we'll just get up and do it again.
0400 GMT; 0500 local
Constanta, Romania
Sunrise was shot with red over Romania, and Cat swayed at Heavyarms' feet. The technicians stared up at the Gundam, awestruck, but kept their distance from her. She managed a polite smile, and turned to greet the woman who appeared to be head of this small force.
"Niklova," the woman said, nodding. "We've got a meal and bed for you, if you'll follow me."
"Thanks," Cat said, sighing. "Your people all make it through?"
"Two injuries," Niklova replied. She was an older woman, in her early fifties, perhaps, but she walked with the straight spine of a soldier. "They were idiots for not believing that when a charge is set for ten minutes, it means ten minutes, not twenty."
"Oh." Cat tried to hide a yawn, blinking as they stepped out of the garage and into the first rays of light. She stopped, stretching broadly, and stared up at the sky.
Hope you two finished your jobs, and found a good place to wait out the day. Cat recalled Lena's comments before their departure, and shook her head. Some things, she figured, would have to wait until these battles were done. No one could afford the distraction.
0900 GMT
Hebrides Islands, Scotland
"Report?"
Marco looked up from the computer screen, and gave Une a sleepy smile. "Massive destruction. Map's lighting up like a Christmas tree," he announced.
She leaned over his shoulder to stare at the screen. Marco hit a key, and the map refreshed, lighting up in chronological order against the Gundam attacks, with smaller red dots indicating resistance force movements. The attacks had begun at sunset in Asia, and in the course of ten hours of darkness, sixteen military bases, four major ports, three quarries and six factories had been destroyed. Smaller destructive forces moved in their wake, taking out major infrastructure, commercial airports where the Foundation had stored its mobile suit carriers, along with several bridges and two tunnels. The team's path moved west, away from the rising sun, halting in western China when the dawn caught up with them.
A second round began in Western Europe several hours after the Asia Team began. The satellite shot showed a darkened Europe, its normal glowing human lights obscured by the dust and smoke spreading across the continent. Moscow, Baku, Odessa, Helsinki, St. Petersburg, Warsaw, Kiev, Bucharest, Prague, Munich, Marseilles, Paris... cities now left with military bases nothing more than smoking ruins. Additional hits on train stations, smaller airports, and fueling stations across France, Sanq, Switzerland, and up into the Norwegian territories were still coming in, as the saboteurs reached safety and wired their success.
The sun had risen on a stunned Europe, and moved its light across the Atlantic to reveal Foundation bases in the Americas equally smashed. The three Gundams had covered over eight hundred miles across that continent, working their way from the largest base in Nuuk, to separate installations down the coast of the old Americas, and into the heartland. One Gundam had gone inland, following the old forty-five line of division; a second followed the coast, taking out ports, while a third struck out at missile bases and mining facilities. The last reported destruction was of the ports dotting the upper western coast. A final hit, just twenty minutes before dawn, had leveled the technology factory cluster just inside the Old America borders. Additional, smaller dots, indicated resistance movement echoing the Gundam attacks, like in Europe.
"The whole world is on fire," Marco said, awed.
1200 GMT; 0500 local
Amarillo, Texas
Meiran shifted on the uncomfortable bed, sighing as Quatre's arms tightened around her in sleep. She punched her pillow a few times, and snuggled down farther under the blanket. One of Quatre's hands moved to stroke her hair, and she was again surprised at what light sleepers both her new lovers were.
"You okay?" Quatre's whisper was low, barely audible over the window unit doing more to blow air than cool the small tenement room. "You should sleep."
"I know," Meiran replied. "I... I keep dreaming I'm still in Nataku, and I've fallen asleep at the controls and can't wake up in time to pull up... "
Quatre's hand slipped from her hair to wrap around her waist, pulling her backwards against the heat of his body. He nuzzled the base of her neck, kissing softly along her shoulder blades.
"I can still feel the engine," Meiran told him. "It's like everything is vibrating. I can't relax... sorry. I shouldn't keep you up, too."
"Mm," he replied, and his hand slipped down her stomach, his fingers tucking into the waist of her sweatpants to cup against her crotch. "Relax... I could help."
"Qua... " Meiran's protest turned breathless, and her legs shifted just enough to let his fingers prod further. "But you... "
"Are up now," he replied glibly, rolling his hips a little against hers. Through the sweatpants they both wore, she could feel the sign of his interest. He bent his head again, nibbling along her shoulder, echoing the quick movements of his fingers.
"Ah," she sighed, her body reacting. She clawed at the pillow, tensing, her hips jerking against his hand. "I can't... too tense... " Meiran's body sagged, and Quatre stilled for a moment, then his fingers began stroking, long and slow. She moaned, and he chuckled against her ear.
"Too tense to tense up, I take it," he said. "Well, let's see about that." His hand disappeared, pulling away to push off her sweatpants under the covers, and he pushed her over on her back.
Meiran clutched the mattress edge, her body arching as he covered her, pushing up her shirt. He trailed lips and tongue across her breasts, down her stomach, to flick his tongue quickly against her. The tremors grew, and she couldn't breathe, holding tightly as she rocked against him. The explosion took her by surprise, as though something inside her were repeating the night's progress, massive and fiery in her veins. To her shock, Quatre paused, then continued, pulling her onwards, reducing her only to whimpers in her ears, sweat on her tongue, and the heavy smell of city air at mid-morning.
Finally he released her, moving up to stare at her with a smug expression.
"Relaxed?" He licked his fingers, and ran their wetness down her jaw line. When she nodded, lazily, he kissed her on the nose.
"Yeah, but you... " Meiran blushed. "I wish I could... "
"I know," Quatre whispered, his blue-green eyes dark with need. "But... I need to be able to keep going."
Meiran sighed, the bone-deep joy fading. Leaning up, she kissed him, frowning a little at the bittersweet tang of herself on his lips. When she let her head fall back on the pillow, he kissed her on the nose a second time, and rolled over to curl up behind her again. Pulling her tight against his chest, he rested his chin on her head and hummed in contentment.
"You're happy?" Meiran tried to turn to see his expression, but he gently pushed her head back down to pillow on his arm. "I can't see how... " She couldn't say it, and wasn't sure what to say, or which to say: How do you handle it? How can you be so tied to one person? And why am I not jealous?
"I like seeing that look on your face," Quatre said, and it sounded like a confession. "For years, I've heard about Wufei's Meiran. I never met her, but seeing you, I know why he cared... even if he was a twit and never admitted it until it was too late." He chuckled, amused.
"He's still a twit," Meiran grumbled, but without rancor. "Stubborn asshole. Both of you, actually. I mean, I understand how it works, but still... " She shrugged one shoulder, and the fabric of their nightshirts rustled.
"It doesn't mean you're any less," Quatre assured her. His hand began making small circles on her stomach, lulling her. "Just that we can't mess with the buffer until we're somewhere that being overwhelmed won't impact a mission."
"I know," Meiran replied. "And I know it doesn't mean I'm... inadequate... but my heart doesn't always pay attention. And I guess it's still rather new to me. I keep trying to figure out how it'll work... or how the hell it even works, now... "
"For starters, you have more self-awareness and self-control than most, at least over your emotions." Quatre's voice was fading, speaking on the edge of sleep, but Meiran felt wired, the aftershocks still running through her system.
"Me? I'm all sound and fury," she retorted softly.
"But you're quick about it," Quatre said. "You feel it, it's there, it's powerful, and then it's gone. You let things go, and move on. And you don't lie to yourself or others. You're nearly as truthful as Wufei, so we can... " He was quiet for a long moment, his breathing even, before he shifted, seeming to wake up again right where he'd left off. " ...Can both resonate with you without feeling like we're losing ourselves."
Meiran clasped Quatre's arm tighter around herself, wriggling backwards until she was certain any closer and they would be testing the buffer's inverse reactions. She was surprised to realize Quatre's arousal had faded, and had to smile. Her only real knowledge of sex had been with a fourteen-year old. Perhaps grown men had better control. She almost wished they didn't, and then just as quickly took back that thought.
"I don't want you to lose yourselves," she whispered, sensing Quatre had fallen asleep again. "Not when I just found you... "
Quatre didn't say anything at first, but then the humming returned, and she wondered if he'd heard what she'd said. The humming grew, a melody forming, and he tilted his head to whisper-sing in her ear.
"And if my choices leave me cold, though I'm shattered I will... " His voice faded into even breathing, then rumbled into life again. " ...Remain with you through the night... My soul I count no sacrifice, if it means your smile stays alight... "
Meiran wasn't sure when the song ended, but his voice stayed with her. Even in dreams, she could hear Quatre, overlaid with Wufei, and for once her dreams were filled with heat and spirit not sparked by the cries of the dying.
1300 GMT
Hebrides Islands, Scotland
"Final reports are in," Marco said, as Une returned with a lunch for the systems technicians monitoring the encrypted messages from rebel bases around the world. Marco thanked Une with a smile and began handing out sandwiches to the two men and one woman on duty.
"What are these?" Une pointed at several large hits in Egypt and Morocco. Eight military bases had been taken out, crossing a span of about five thousand miles, following the curve of the Ivory Coast.
Marco hit several keys on the nearest computer, and the details came up. "Five carriers destroyed, and partial destruction of the Beirut base. Total annihilation of the port at Tripoli." He whistled. "Major firepower there. Another confirmed casualty was a beam cannon factory, south-west of Algiers."
"Which resistance group ran those operations?" Une frowned, running through the list of resistance forces. They weren't supposed to act until being alerted, so they had the cover of the Gundams' main attacks to distract protective forces from their smaller on-foot attacks.
"No one's taken credit. At least according to Abdul, our contact in Alexandria." Marco shook his head, scrolling through the badly spelt secure transmission. "They didn't have enough time to organize anything to take advantage of it. They weren't expecting our company until tonight, when the European team turns south."
"I'll send him word I want more details," Une said, mostly to herself. She glanced at the clock. "Who's active?"
"First team is up again, and coming around again to hit India, Pakistan, and Australian points," Marco reported.
"Ma'am," someone called, sticking their head into the command room, empty of all but Une and Marco. The young man grinned, nervously, and tugged on his forelock in lieu of a salute. When Une nodded, he stood up straight while giving his report. "Word's come in. Shenlong and Nataku reported in, Gundams at seventy percent power. Sandstone met with resistance over the mining areas, and is at fifty percent power. Marita's team thinks they can have Sandstone ready in twelve hours, though."
"Good," Une replied, only half-listening. She was still staring at the map, and the bright red dots trailing a Gundam's progress across the northern and western edges of the African continent. Une realized the young man - whose name she couldn't recall - was still waiting. "Dismissed," she told him, and his bright grin made her feel even older.
"Ma'am," Marco whispered. "Get some sleep before your flight. Sanchez will be relieving me in a few minutes. He'll wake us if there's any news, I'm sure."
"I know," Une sighed. She felt the absence of Po and Noin, at her side, acutely, and not for the first time wondered how many ghosts trailed in her wake; twelve aristocrats, two friends, one lover. "I know," she said, and knew any sleep would be filled with memories she wasn't ready to recall.
End Part 21
This is a mild revision - place names, times, and order of the chapter (and some minor grammar, punctuation, and other assorted details) have been changed to protect the guilty. Err, wait. I meant, changed to make more sense. Besides, it's been a few months, and I'd promised to snap these two chapters in line with international geography, anyway, and it's a good brush-up for me before I start on the next go-round of this behemoth known as That Unpronounceable Story By Sol (except for Kage, who said it right the very first time).
(:./sol/tetra21)
