21-Oct-2004
Title: Tetractys: Chesed, IV
Author: Sol 1056
Rating: R for violence and language, some adult situations
Pairings (currently): 1+R, 1+2+3, 2x3x2, 4x5xM
Disclaimer: no, don't own 'em... duh.
Archived: sweetlysour and gwaddiction
Critiques: always welcome, natch!
Notes: - four more sections - that's sixteen chapters - and the story will be DONE. That means... err, this is chapter 28 of 44, not including possible epilogue. With thanks again to Zaz for suggestions, and Zan, Mal, and Saro for patting me on the head and telling me to get back to work.
"Crap!" Duo swung Deathscythe Hell around, swinging the beam scythe low. It sliced through the legs of the two Ju. He checked the screens, only to be slammed from behind by a direct hit from a Go.
"Duo!" Heero's voice came over the 'comm. He sounded angry, but there was an unfamiliar note of confusion, maybe even worry, in his voice. "What are you doing out there?"
"Watering the--" Deathscythe Hell fell forward on one knee. "--fucking lawn, Yuy--" Duo rammed the butt of the scythe backwards, skewering the Go solidly. "--What does it look--" The Go exploded. Deathscythe Hell shot upwards, twisting around. "--like to you?"
In the distance, Heavyarms was battering at a Long while Deathscythe did aerial stunts with two Yang. Duo swore and aimed for the Long. Heavyarms could stand there and shoot all day, but the Long's armor rivaled Heavyarms. It was just a waste of ammunition.
"Get to the base," Trowa ordered. "We've got anti-aircraft guns set up to support."
"Like fuck!" Duo kicked downwards with his feet, and reached forward to kick in the boosters. The only drawback he'd found to his modifications in a real firefight was the need to use the console. His movements moved Deathscythe Hell, and he had no doubt it looked a bit peculiar. "The fight's over here, if you haven't noticed, not five miles east--"
"Need backup," Cat's voice came, interrupting. "Come at him from--"
"On it," Duo hollered. Kicking the verniers into overdrive, Deathscythe Hell came screaming up behind the Long. With a graceful arc of the scythe, Duo cut - but the Long leaped at the last second. Duo stared at the Long's tail, metal sparking on the tarmac. "Fuck," he muttered.
"Duo!" Heero's voice was as close to frantic as he'd ever heard.
"Not now, man," Duo said, and took a deep breath. The threads were starting to come back, but tenuous and faint. He cursed his own damn libido for thinking he could--
"Take a breath." Trowa's soft voice was reassurance.
"Do what?" Lena came onto the line, confused, then broke off with a crackling sound.
"Yeah, we need ground support," Duo said, and leapt into the air, after the Long. Six Go were working their way across the city's northern stretch, aiming fireballs indiscriminately at the houses and businesses. He spared a half-second to note the black smoke filling the sky from the burning city, and suddenly grinned. "What's our stats on opposition?"
"Seven Go. Two Long. Four Yang... " Heero was definitely smirking. "Make that two Yang... and another Long approaching from the south-west."
"Ladies," Duo said, jerking Deathscythe Hell around, narrowly missing return fire from the Long. "Can you vent your coolant systems?"
"Can we what?" Hil's face flashed up on Duo's screen. She gave him an annoyed look, then grunted. Deathscythe had landed before the Go, and immediately taken a direct hit to the chest. "Bastards!" Deathscythe spun to the side, beam scythe out, and she caught the nearest Go across the upper body.
Duo checked visuals, continuing to keep the Long occupied. He evaded most shots, but a few caught him off-guard. The verniers shrieked when he sent Deathscythe Hell sideways through the air, and the Long's jets flared. It raced to keep up with him. Duo grinned at the Long.
"Keep on coming, asshole," he muttered. "It's possum time."
"Hunh?" Hil's face on the screen was a picture of complete bewilderment.
"02, on your six!" Cat yelled.
"Venting now!" Duo pulled upwards, kicking out with his feet.
Deathscythe Hell plummeted downwards. The fall looked uncontrolled, but Duo shoved one shoulder forward just before hitting the ground. Falling onto his side, an arm beneath him, Deathscythe Hell slid along the ground, rolling and tumbling. Coming to a stop by a burning building, Duo entered the commands for the coolant system. He looked up to see the Long unfolding, stalking towards him, beam rod raised. The second Long was in the distance, aiming for him as well. Three of the Go that had been facing off Hil were also heading for him. Duo grinned and entered the command.
Steam vapor hissed, fleeing Deathscythe Hell's vents. Pushing the mecha up to its knees, Duo gave it a bit of power - only a hint - and Deathscythe Hell pushed into the air, transforming into bird-mode. Duo grunted, manually jolting the Temurah process, then letting it go. The four enemy mecha sped up, weapons raised, and he took off in a wobbling flight pattern across the city.
"Yang down," Cat hollered. "Coming after you, Maxwell--"
"Duo!" Hil scowled. "Get out of here, and we'll--"
"Stay there, 02," Lena ordered. It sounded like she'd been laughing. "02, 03, deal with those Go. Leave the rest to Maxwell."
Duo chuckled, a dark sound, and led the two Long and three Go across the city. His vapor vents continued to bleed steam in a long trail behind him, and he jiggled his arms every now and then to make his flight appear unstable. His teeth clattered at the motion, and he felt vaguely ill from it. Threads were growing solid in his sight, and he relaxed minutely. Stretching his vision, he could see the enemy mecha's futures, leading in a single line to the base.
"Ready at your call," Trowa said.
"In three," Duo replied. "Three... "
He sped up, aiming for the base, but taking a circular route to approach it from due west. The Long sped up behind him, the Go hot on their tails.
"Two... "
Deathscythe Hell dropped, gained altitude, and half-spun, flying with the horizon along his right side. The Foundation base's gate went past, and he took a deep breath. The headquarters building was dead ahead.
"One... "
He slammed into the broad green in front of the Foundation Headquarters. The mecha tumbled, head over end, still in bird-mode. Dirt plowed up around him, and he was thrown against the harness, arms flailing. Knocked sideways, he hit his head against the side screen, and the world went dark, then bright. Duo opened his eyes, groaning, to see the five enemy mecha pulverized by the waiting anti-aircraft guns.
The surrounding buildings were manned on the roof by loyal guards, and Duo could only laugh softly while the enemy mecha were hit repeatedly. A full barrage of over twenty-two anti-aircraft guns surrounded the enemy mecha. One Go exploded; another lurched sideways before fire burst from its control vector. The third exploded, just as a Long's arm and leg were blown away. The second Long, with no tail, lacked a flamethrower. It was in pieces behind the others.
"All clear," Duo whispered into the 'comm.
"Clear," Cat said.
"Clear," Hil reported. "Lena?"
"Radar's saying that's it," Lena replied. "Do a sweep, then head to the shuttle port for repairs... Duo?"
Duo groaned. "Yeah?" He tried to move, but was half off his seat, hanging to the side.
"You okay?" The screen flashed on to reveal Cat's worried face.
"Yeah... uh, gimme a minute," Duo said, and passed out.
The Peacemillion was massive, and Meiran blinked several times, then stepped closer to Wufei and Quatre. Neither man appeared bothered by the line of Sweepers around them carrying laser-guns. Meiran, on the other hand, felt the glares around her like a hundred poniard jabs.
Wufei glanced over, a slight frown on his face, and Meiran lifted her chin. She wasn't about to let him see that she was intimidated, although she was sure Quatre wasn't fooled in the least. He had to feel her uncertainty rolling off her in waves. She took a deep breath, and forced herself to feel how she wanted to appear. After a heartbeat or two, her breathing calmed, and some of the tension in Quatre's shoulders disappeared.
They came to stop in the shuttle bay, approaching three people. Two women, one man, roughly the same age as Thayer, in that ageless, weary, space-worn way. The first woman - Ango, Thayer had told them, and the head of Peacemillion itself - had her hair pulled back in a short ponytail like Wufei's; the second woman, Terra, had white-blonde hair falling down her back in curls. The man was broad-shouldered but squat, with bowlegs and strong forearms. Meiran recalled Thayer had called the man Geori, and something about him being the technical head. None of the three were smiling.
Quatre came to stand before the three, at a good ten-foot distance, and Meiran and Wufei instinctively flanked him, a bit behind and to his sides. Meiran spared a quick glance to Wufei, who was looking neither right nor left. She could see a muscle flicker in his cheek, and wondered if Quatre and Wufei were communicating again. She returned her attention to the three Peacemillion leaders. The blonde had crossed her arms, standing casually with her weight on one leg.
"You've brought Gundams back to space," Terra said, looking over them as if finding them uninteresting. Meiran stifled the urge to punch the woman. "Don't see what you hope to accomplish out here but more bloodshed."
"Have you paid attention to the news earthside?" Quatre's tone was calm, but his voice was raised to carry across the bay. "Mariemaia is fighting on four fronts. Admiral Dinh in Asia, Sanq in the Mediterranean, and the Children's Crusade in Europe and North America. Make it a fifth in space, and we can crush her completely."
"We don't have the resources to stage a full attack out here." Terra arched an eyebrow, waiting for Quatre's parry.
"You don't need to," Quatre replied. "Mariemaia doesn't have the resources to respond to even half an attack. There will be no backup from earth to support the forces already in space."
"Which are," Terra studied her fingernails, "already too numerous for us."
"Would you rather continue to enjoy the Foundation's hospitality?" Quatre's lip curled, but his tone remained polite.
"Hardly. If you hadn't noticed, we don't like the Foundation. If we could have, we would have attacked before now. It certainly wasn't our choice to wait for Gundams to finally get their asses up here. We'd much rather do it ourselves than need latecomer fairytale knights to save the day."
Meiran narrowed her eyes, and ignored the sudden tension in Quatre's muscles. His hand came out, warning her, and she rocked back on her heels, undecided. She really wanted to burst past Quatre and just pummel Terra. Stubborn, proud, fool of a woman! Damn it, the bitch was willing to lose this chance just because she bore a grudge, Meiran railed. Quatre dropped his hand when Meiran didn't move, but he seemed to be waiting for something.
Wufei made a sound in his throat, and Quatre nodded. Meiran tensed, wondering what the two men had decided. First chance I get, she told herself, I'm getting one of those nifty things in my jaw, too. No more conversations without me, especially when I'd really like to know whether they just decided to start shooting, leave in a huff, or order anchovies on our pizza tonight.
"We're here, now," Quatre said, evenly. "We can work separately, or we can combine our forces."
"If you do, you fall under our command," Terra shot back.
"What experience do you have in warfare? Strategy? Planning?" Quatre smiled, but the pleasant look didn't reach his eyes.
For a moment, Meiran saw them as strangers; two men with death in their eyes; two men who had both chosen her as a lover. She lifted her chin, and stared down the Peacemillion leaders. These were her partners and she was a force to be reckoned with, as well.
Three horsemen of the apocalypse, she thought, and recalled Duo, regretting momentarily her animosity towards the Duo she'd known. But there was nothing to be done, now, and she'd agreed to leave it in Quatre's hands. He was still waiting for Terra's response.
"We practice guerilla warfare," Terra responded, a bit reluctantly.
"And the last time you attacked?" Quatre arched an eyebrow. "It seems to me that if the Foundation ignores the majority of the rebel Sweepers moving through space, you can't have riled them up any time recently."
Terra frowned, and glanced at Ango, who gave her a helpless look.
"Drop the attitude," Quatre said. He strode forward until he was almost nose-to-nose with Terra. She was easily six inches shorter than him, but held her ground. So close together, they looked almost like brother and sister, and Meiran blinked. Quatre leaned into Terra, who set her jaw, her brows furrowed. "They're not expecting anything. They know you're hiding back here - and they don't care. They think you're beaten. Prove them wrong. Now is the time. Now is your chance."
Terra stared up at him, and her expression changed into something more like pain. Her shoulders slumped, and she turned away, her voice only low enough for those directly around her to hear.
"You're not him," she whispered. "You look... " She stared off across the bay, her gaze moving over the Sweepers standing in a loose half-circle around them, sixty or so feet distance. She sighed, and looked up at Quatre again. "You look like him, but your eyes are cold."
Quatre looked stunned, then pulled back, studying the woman carefully. He opened his mouth, but was silent, and Meiran could see the fingers on his right hand twitching, rubbing against each other as he considered everything carefully. It was one of his few gestures of uncertainty. It finally dawned on her what Terra meant.
"No," Meiran said, very quietly, trying not to flinch when the three leaders turned their attention to her. "It's not him. These men are... " She sighed, not sure she wanted to go into it with an entire audience. "We'll explain, if you need to hear it, but not here."
"I don't want to hear it," Terra said, firmly. She didn't look at Quatre. Her blue eyes were fixed on some point around his chest, but unfocused. She stepped back, and dropped her arms. "Fine. We'll tell you what we've got, and we'll hear your suggestions. I command these ships, though. I have final word."
"And if we disagree," Quatre replied, but gently, "we'll fight without you... but it's better to fight side-by-side."
"You're nothing like him," Terra whispered. Her words reached Meiran's ears like a caress. "My brother never would have allowed any to fight in his place, or at his side. He would have done it all, rather than let others be hurt."
Quatre said nothing. Terra looked at Ango, who nodded sharply.
"Dismissed," Ango announced, looking over the collected Sweepers. There was a murmur of confusion, a babble of discussion. Ango jerked her head towards the massive doors leading into Peacemillion's interior. "Come on. We've got a map-room where we can brief you on the situation."
After nearly two hours of waiting, they were let out. Heero pushed away from the wall, staying close to Lena when the underground center's doors opened. Trowa was right behind them, silent and watchful. The guards escorted Lena, Heero, and Trowa to the basement of Tirana's old courthouse. It had served as a presidential palace, two centuries before, until the Peacecraft Dynasty expanded into the residence destroyed when Lena was a child. The surroundings changed from nondescript storage hallways to grand oak-carved balustrades and plaster ceilings when they reached the first floor.
Outside the high windows, Heero could see the burning building that had been the mansion where they'd stayed. He turned away with a sigh.
"Hey, guys." Duo's voice came over the comm. "About two blocks away. Should be maybe, three, five minutes."
"Injuries?" Trowa's question was soft, his gaze traveling back and forth across the building's old architecture.
Heero glanced from Trowa to Lena, who had requested an intact background for her announcement to the people of Sanq. Ahead, three of her advisors were discussing arrangements with two media people. Lena headed straight for them, her chin up, her carriage regal. She looked tired, but not nearly as wiped-out as she had that morning. Her gaze was clear, and when she caught him looking, she winked. Heero's lips twisted into a smirk. She wasn't yet a general, but she had the ability to delegate the jobs she couldn't do, and was willing to trust that people would do them.
"Minimal, bruising, mild concussion," Duo replied, after a pause. "Man, this building looks like something from a frickin' horror movie. Gargoyles, too." He sounded impressed, and a bit awed. "Cat and Hil aren't far behind. Doro just landed, and they stayed to greet her."
"Moving to second floor," Trowa replied, as they trotted up a broad staircase. Lena muttered something, and Trowa nodded, relaying it to Duo. "The district courtroom. They're setting up cameras and equipment right now."
"Man, those stuffy dukes act fast," Duo commented. He laughed, but the sound was cut off as he muted the 'comm.
"He'll be here shortly," Trowa informed Lena.
Heero followed them through the two large doors, unsurprised when Lena paused to sweep the room with one glance. Determining her destination, she moved forward without hesitation. Trowa and Heero followed with a glance to each other.
"Stay out of the cameras' sight," Lena said, turning to them. "I don´t want your faces broadcast any more than necessary."
"Mariemaia will be watching," Heero pointed out.
"I know." Lena shrugged. "But that's not the kind of trump card I need right now. Where's Duo?"
"Right here," Duo said, skidding across the marble floor behind them. He looked around at the bank of cameras and whistled. "Bloody hell. A whole press conference! Hey, do we get to wear little badges?"
Heero swatted Duo on the back of the head out of pure habit. The contact was light, but as expected, Duo made a big deal about it.
"Ow, ow," he complained, holding his head gingerly. "I've been knocked enough for one day."
"What was going on with you out there?" Heero lowered his voice, stepping closer. Someone called Lena's name, and she moved away from the three. Heero noted the sudden flush on Duo's face, and frowned. "It was like you were fighting blind."
"Ah, well," Duo put a hand to the back of his head, an old gesture. He glanced at Trowa, who stared across the room at Lena, apparently not even listening. Heero furrowed his brow at that, but Duo's voice distracted him from drawing any conclusions. "See, it's a long story, Heero, but we'll tell you all about it. Uh, later."
"Why can't you tell me now?" Heero crossed his arms. "If something's going wrong with your sight--"
"What?" Lena appeared behind them, startling Duo, who edged away with a short laugh. She glanced back and forth at the men, then snorted in annoyance at a polite cough behind her. "No," she said, turning slightly. "I'm going with my version."
"Ah, your highness," Lord Foliaux replied, nervous under her glare. "A battlefield plan is nice rhetoric for the people, but if Mariemaia invades--"
"If?" Lena shook her head. "What did you think today was? A stopover for tea? She's begun invading already. Where's Lord Warren? I'm expecting reports on the other cities."
"He's taking care of that," Foliaux hedged. Cecil came up behind him, nodding.
"Yeah, and that worked so well last time," Lena said. Her voice was calm, but her fists were clenched. Heero stepped closer, until his arm was against her shoulder blades, and she relaxed slightly. "I want those reports. I want to know how the rest of Sanq is faring."
"Your highness," Major Marconi interrupted. She spoke not with the deference of the parliament members, but curtly. It seemed to Heero that Marconi almost seemed disapproving. Marconi continued, "the primary reason for broadcasting your speech is to assure your people that you're safe."
"No," Lena said. "It's to tell them what we're facing. They need to be prepared."
"That's Prime Minister Baltoja's job," Cecil replied. "He's the country's leader--"
"And I'm its frickin' queen," Lena shot back. "I may be a figurehead in the legal sense, but I can fight and I--"
"Your people don't want you to fight," Cecil said, very quietly. "With all due respect, your highness, they want you safe and sound."
Lena opened her mouth, studied the six advisors and parliamentary members around her, and closed her mouth. She was still for several heartbeats, and Heero could see the minute flicker of a line appearing and disappearing between her brows. He wondered about the content of the speeches. Glancing at Trowa, he jerked his head backwards, and pulled back a few yards. Duo remained at Lena's side, while the two pilots spoke in an undertone.
"What are you getting?" Heero watched Lena, as she began arguing her case again. It sounded like she and her advisors were going over the same courses.
"Marconi's worried about Lena getting in the way of the military," Trowa reported, wryly. "Cecil... " Trowa frowned, and glanced over at Duo, then back at Lena, watching the group. Behind them, reporters and guards rushed about to set up the last of the equipment. "The parliamentary members voted on offering a truce to Mariemaia, during the battle. Their speech is couched in terms that will lay the groundwork for Baltoja to introduce that afterwards."
"Truce?" Heero scowled. "You mean surrender."
Trowa shrugged. "They seem to be very carefully considering it as a truce... " He paused, and studied the people around them. "Crap."
Something's wrong, Heero thought, and had the sudden impulse to slam several of the cameras into the wall. He wondered how they'd react, if that happened. It was suddenly evident; there were quick looks between Cecil, Warren, Foliaux, Marconi, and Aster, who had just joined the group. They knew something, and it was something they didn't want Lena to know.
"Incoming," Duo muttered over the 'comm, and Heero's head jerked up to see Lena striding towards them.
"Come on," she ordered, leaving the room without looking back. Heero, Trowa, and Duo trailed behind her, followed by Lena's advisors. At the doorway, she turned, looking past the Gundam pilots to the politicians. "No. The rest of you stay here. I'll be back shortly." With another angry look, she headed off down the hall.
She tried three doors in succession before finding a small office that was unlocked. Lena was pushing the door open as Cat, Doro, and Hil came up the stairs, and she beckoned to them as well. The seven pilots filed into the office.
Trowa didn't wait for Lena to speak, but leaned against the door, his arms crossed. "They're planning treason, Lena."
Lena had opened her mouth to speak, but only a strangled sound came out. Her eyes went wide.
"While we were fighting, they were in the next room voting on what to do. Mariemaia may have sent an advance guard, but it did the trick, and scared the parliament. They want you to give the speech that tells everyone you're safe... and then Baltoja will make his own announcement that the Sanq government wishes to discuss terms for a truce."
"You mean surrender," Lena said, unconsciously repeating Heero's assumption.
"Amounts to the same thing."
"So." Lena glanced at Doro, who had settled into the seat behind the desk. Doro was tanned, which made her gray eyes seem even more unearthly, and her rough-cut blond hair glowed in the rays of the setting sun. Lena perched on the edge of the desk. "Any suggestions?"
"What can you do, legally?" Hil wanted to know.
"I'm just the princess," Lena sighed. "I'm not even crowned. Really, the only thing I'm supposed to do is kiss babies, make pretty speeches, and once a year I get to address the House of Lords about the people's concerns."
"But in a time of war," Cat insisted, "the people need a focus. Someone to look up to."
"Lena as a role model!" Duo guffawed, then grew serious at Heero's glare. "Oh, please. Lena'd make a great role model. Think of it. All the little girls throwing away their dolls and asking for a their own toy-version of Talon."
Even Lena had to smile at that; Doro chuckled softly and spun her chair to stare out at the fires still burning across the city. Cat leaned forward, her chin resting on her hands. Hil sat on the arm of Cat's chair and studied the calluses on her fingers.
"I... " Lena looked up at Trowa, then Duo. "Can you... look, for me?"
Heero braced himself. He'd suspected that was coming, but was more surprised at the sudden protective urge he felt. Not for Duo - which he did, as much as for Trowa - but for the possibility that Duo and Trowa might refuse, just when Lena needed all the information she could get. He felt torn in two, and when Trowa and Duo glanced his way, he didn't meet their eyes. He stared sullenly at the floor, annoyed with himself.
"What are the major options," Duo whispered. His voice was flat, but his gaze never stopped moving back and forth across the four women.
"Give their speech," Lena said, "and let Baltoja offer terms of truce. Or preempt them, and issue a declaration of war against Mariemaia. Of course, they could always shut down the transmission, while I'm talking... "
Duo was quiet for several minutes. Someone knocked on the door, startling them. Trowa opened the door, stared down the person on the other side, then slammed the door and locked it. He leaned against the door, crossing his arms, and lowered his head.
"Please," Lena whispered. "I'm sorry, but, please... "
"No need to apologize, and no need to ask," Doro spoke up. Her curt tones sliced through the tension in the room, heightening it, yet splintering it. "We are at war, whether those weak-ass pacifist thumb-suckers want to admit it or not. Backing down now only means that Sanq loses her dignity as well as her freedom." Doro snorted, looking bored. "All the words in the world aren't going to stop Mariemaia from leveling this country. Sanq can either die on its knees, or die on its feet, but it's a good chance it'll die... "
Lena stiffened, and opened her mouth to speak, but Doro raised her hand.
"You've got a city of four hundred fifty-thousand souls, most of whom have never fired a gun, let alone owned one," Doro said, impassively. "Five nation-states, consisting of approximately eighty million people who've spent their entire lives with the firm belief that they don't need to defend themselves. Either because they're pacifists and therefore--" Doro's voice gained a sarcastic note; she raised her hands in a so-what gesture-- "We're peaceful so we won't go to war, right?" She dropped her hands, growing serious. "Or it's because they've been trampled underfoot... and told that this new tyranny will defend them from more war."
"Thanks." Lena made a face. "Do you ever serve any purpose other than making me feel like crawling into a hole is my only option?"
Doro tried to look innocent, but to Heero, she only looked feral. "Sure, but why bother, when that purpose is more fun?"
Marco looked up when Zhiyi pushed open the door to his hotel room. She didn't knock, nor did she speak. She just trudged across the room and collapsed onto the chair. He put down the machine designs he'd been doodling, and waited to hear what she had to say. She only stared up at the ceiling for several long minutes.
"Do you," she finally said, and it was as though the late afternoon sunlight was shattered. Something in her voice made the room seem dark despite the cheerful gold spilling across the bed, the chair, and Zhiyi's face. The girl shifted, and sank back into the chair. "Do you... feel like we're prisoners?"
He considered that for a long moment, not sure how to respond. He did; he'd barely been out except down to the pub for breakfast and lunch. Attempts to step outside were met with polite refusals in thick Irish brogues, insisting that he stay inside where he'd be safe. He suspected that even for a child like Zhiyi - used to traveling with adults, and the close confines of ships and military bases - the lengthy stay in one room had to seem like being imprisoned.
"I'm not sure," he finally said. "No one has actually told me that we can't leave... "
"But you haven't tried, have you," and it wasn't a question. Zhiyi fidgeted for a bit, then exhaled deeply. Her voice was very quiet when she spoke again, barely more than a hint of sound. "I don't like them very much."
"I think their hearts are in the right place," Marco replied. "Sometimes, to get peace, you do have to fight--"
"They keep taking me down to their building, the one with all the satellite stuff and that big tower in the backyard," Zhiyi said, as though Marco hadn't spoken. Her voice was flat; her gaze distant. "And I say hello to the people on the other end of the screen, then Erin talks to them, and then someone comes and brings me back but Erin's still talking. Today there were like nine or ten people in all these little windows." She wrinkled up her nose. "It was like the side-screen of a Gundam. Lotsa little heads... "
"That's international conferencing," Marco replied.
"Well, it's boring, and it's... " Zhiyi kicked a foot against the floor, scuffing the toes of her sandals along the wood. "People are dying, Marco."
"It's--"
"No, like... " Zhiyi struggled to sit up, and stared at Marco for several seconds before coming and sitting down next to him. She cupped her hand around his ear, and whispered carefully, little puffs of hot breath on his eardrum with her childish voice. "Mommy said once that when Mariemaia killed a thousand people it was a massacre. Today in North America five thousand people attacked a Foundation base... and the Foundation went an' dropped bombs on two towns near the base... they k-killed ev-every... "
Zhiyi's hand was shaking against Marco's cheek. He wondered if he were trembling, too, at the news that his employer's daughter - or his colleague's daughter? - but definitely his friend... This one child's name was being used to send so many to their deaths.
She took a breath and kept going. "Erin was saying that these people are martyrs an' stuff. He was talking like he was pleased they died, but... that's... I don't know how many people. A lot of people! They won't be going to school or buying orange juice or driving cars or hugging their mommies ever again, a whole two towns of people who just... aren't there anymore." She dropped her hand.
Marco turned to see tears caught in Zhiyi's eyelashes. She stared up at him, lost and uncertain, and he could do nothing more than wrap his arms around her. He tucked her under his chin and held her close, letting her cry as her small body shook against him.
"If a thousand people is a massacre," Zhiyi whispered, rubbing her nose on Marco's shirt and sniffling, "what's a massacre times twenty?"
A horror, Marco thought, called genocide...
"The satellites, at L1 and L3," Quatre said, pointing to the chart. "These send information, or relay it?"
"Both, from what we've determined," Geori answered in a deep rumble. "They're completely man-made, like small colonies, but unmanned. However, they're surrounded by mines."
Wufei glanced up from the charts he was studying, to stare at the satellites on the main wall chart before Quatre. Meiran was running through a series of frequencies, with Auda at her side. The Mangunac kept close by Quatre, but seemed reluctant to say or do more. Wufei stifled a melancholy sigh; it had to hurt to meet people you once knew, and have them not be the same. Meiran was also different, true: she was older, wiser... and far more beautiful. And, he noted with a wry smile, less likely to punch him in the jaw, these days.
"The armament on the colonies?" Quatre hit several buttons, changing the view-screen to a diagram of the current colony design, and Foundation adaptations. "These markings, here, indicate what?"
"Anti-aircraft guns," Terra said. "Those--" She pointed to a series of small bubble-like protrusions from the colony's lowest ring. "--Are EMT disrupters, sending out a wide beam that destroys electrical signals."
"Have you tested those? What're the stats?" Quatre rattled off his questions as though reading from a cue card. "What's the duration of the blast? Do they send tight beam, or wide?"
"Getting signal from earth," Meiran interrupted. She was quiet, then looked up with a frown. "Sanq managed to fight off Foundation's forces. The Foundation is calling it an act of war, but saying only two mobile suits were lost. And... the Children's Crusade is continuing." She lowered her gaze, and even Wufei could feel the waves of pain radiating from her.
"Any contradictory versions on Sanq?" Terra strode over to the console, to lean a hand on it while Auda ran his own scans on rebel net sites, decrypting as he went. Terra pointed at the screen. "There, that one. From South America."
"Twelve mobile suits destroyed," Auda read off. "But the end's the same. Significant damage to Tirana."
"Any word on Lena?" Quatre frowned when Auda looked confused. "The Princess of Sanq."
"Oh." Auda shook his head. "But there's something about a broadcast in... four hours." He studied the screen for a bit, reading. "An answer to Mariemaia's attack. No real information on planned content."
"You can get that signal here?" Wufei recalled his childhood on L5. The broadcast signals from Earth were far and few between. L5 wasn't the most distant colony; that was L3, on the far Lagrange point, or L2, if the moon's interference was counted as adding to the travel time.
"We've got relays set up at the edges of the trash field," Geori replied.
Wufei nodded, not paying full attention. Usually L5 received broadcasts of news or entertainment a day or two after the Earth. He'd written it off, when young, to the peculiar notion that shows and news had to be packed up and brought in by shuttle. Something in that naïve guess came back to play at the edges of his mind. Wufei shoved it away, and tried to focus on the schema of satellites scattered through Earth's gravitational field.
"If Sanq is broadcasting defiance," Meiran suggested, "then we need to make sure the colonists see that. Knowing they're not isolated in their fight is a big--"
"Unlikely," Geori said, cutting her off. "The Foundation controls all information in and out of the colonies."
"Controls... " Wufei murmured, and his finger drew a line across the system, from Earth, to the intermediary satellite, to L1. "What if that intermediate point is solely to block signals?" He glanced up to see Quatre considering the question with some surprise, and then concentration.
"It's possible," Quatre conceded. "It'd take a sizeable dampening field, but if there's... " He made a face, discounting the possibility. "No, there's no way that small relay station would have the power."
"If you can't block a sound, or get rid of it, when you're in a Gundam," Wufei mused, "then you introduce competition." At Geori's raised eyebrows, Wufei shrugged, thinking it should be obvious. "White noise. Broadcast white noise, and all signals reaching any points within the beam's scope would get nothing more than garbled images."
"If anything other than fuzz, in the first place," Meiran said, her eyes wide. She turned to Quatre. He stared at the system map for a second, then grinned at his partners.
Quatre turned to Geori. "Are the Gundams ready?"
"I think so. I can call down and find--"
"Tell them we're on our way." Quatre waited while Wufei and Meiran stood. "Oh, and tell them we'll need boosters."
"Boosters?" Geori shook his head. "Unless you can tell us what for, that's an expensive addition for no--"
"We'll need them," Quatre explained, pausing in the doorway, "to get us to L3's relay satellite in the next two hours."
"Two hours?" Terra shoved away from the console, shocked. "There's no way you'll make it in two hours, not with the route we have to--"
"As the crow flies," Quatre replied. "We have no time to waste. Call them, Geori. We're on our way down."
Wufei was the last out the door, and so only he heard Geori's belated response. At the man's words, Wufei turned on his heel, a smirk on his lips.
"We're going to take down that relay satellite, just in time to remind L4 and L1 there's a whole world below them."
Doro got up from the desk, striding past Lena. She stared Trowa down, who smirked but dutifully moved out of the way. Doro yanked the door open, only to find a young girl with white-blonde hair in a high ponytail, her hand raised as if to knock. The girl took one look at Doro and squeaked, stumbling backwards.
Trowa reached out and caught the girl by the elbow before she fell.
"Carrie," he said, a question in the name.
"Let her be," Lena said, from behind them. "She's my... uh, lady-in-waiting."
Doro turned, one delicate eyebrow arched. "You're kidding."
"No, ma'am," Carrie said, and raised a hand. She was carrying a coffee carafe. "I brought coffee?"
"Are you sure?" Doro rolled her eyes and stepped past the girl. "If she doesn't even know what it is, maybe you shouldn't let her in. I'm going for maps."
Carrie turned to watch Doro's departure, and looked back to Trowa, her eyes wide. Seeing Lena beckoning her in, Carrie stepped into the small office. She pulled out a stack of disposable cups from a pocket and set them on the desk.
"I heard you were having a meeting, your highness... " She glanced around, uncertain, and leaned in close to Lena. "But there's something I need to tell you."
"You can say it in front of them," Lena replied, her expression serious. "I trust all these people."
"So we're in private?"
Lena nodded.
"Okay." Carrie beamed, and the smile was as bright as Quatre's, Duo thought. He couldn't help but be charmed by the girl's utter naïveté. Carrie cleared her throat, her smile fading. "When they let us out, I came looking for you in case you needed anything, and the guards said your staff might know. They're in the court room talking, in a private meeting, but I know Tony from the mansion and he let me in and... " She hesitated, and eyed Trowa, who was leaning against the door again.
"Go on," Lena urged.
"There's a representative from... Romania," Carrie said, nodding. "And one from Bulgaria. The lords were talking about whether they should let you know."
"Did you hear anything else? What these representatives want?" Lena pushed away from the desk, glancing towards the door briefly as Trowa let Doro back in, her arms full of maps. "Anything?"
"Not really, but it sounded like they're offering something, or making a request, and the lords don't think it's wise to let you know because you might grant it." Carrie sighed. "I'm sorry, but they noticed me before I could hear more."
Doro set the maps down on the desk, and was listening to Carrie intently. Duo knocked against the 'comm with his tongue, clicking a code, a question. Trowa's lips thinned, but he nodded, and slipped from the room.
"What--" Lena glanced at Heero, then Duo. "I see," she said, and smiled at Carrie. "I appreciate the coffee. If you could find us some snacks, a few sandwiches, nothing too much trouble... "
Duo cleared his throat. "I'd like a steak," he said, grinning widely at Carrie. She turned, recognized him, and blushed deeply. Lena gave Duo a strange look, and he shrugged.
"A steak," Carrie mumbled. "Uh... "
"Just teasin' ya," Duo assured her. She was positively the cutest thing, but mostly because she just turned deep-red, rather than giggled. "Whatever you can find is good. We just get hungry, defending cities. Big job."
"Carrie," Lena said, catching the girl's attention again. "Keep your ears open, and let me know anything else you hear, okay?"
"Yes, your... Lena," Carrie said, dipping another quick curtsey. Trowa entered the office, his expression dark, and Carrie ducked around him before darting out of the room.
"Well?" Duo stepped forward, investigating the carafe's pouring mechanism, and separating out the cups. He glanced over his shoulder at Trowa; the other pilot's expression was intense.
"I only caught bits," Trowa said. "The representatives wish to ally with Sanq. They're on their way to Tirana. Arriving in two or three hours."
"Ally," Lena repeated. She turned to Doro, who was spreading out a map of the Mediterranean area. "That's a good thing."
"Could be," Doro replied. She set a finger down on the Adriatic Sea. "We need to discuss defense. Get your coffee fix and listen up."
Cat and Hil crowded in on either side of Doro, and Trowa, Heero and Duo stepped up opposite Doro, leaning over the desk to study the map. Lena remained at one end, her expression solemn, but Duo could see a bit of hope playing in her eyes.
"We need to shut off the Adriatic Sea," Doro said. "All naval ships left behind, running our own blockade. If we don't, the Foundation can sail an aircraft carrier and a fleet of destroyers right up the middle and from there pound us to dust." She tapped the narrow entry point. "Hundred miles across. We can do it with maybe five naval ships, and support from fishing vessels."
"Fishing?" Cat shook her head. "They're pacifists."
"We'll see about that," Doro said. "We need to contact Admiral Vienne, from the Patra port, and tell him we want machine guns installed on fishing vessels. They sail our waters. They need a way to defend themselves, and a bit of education in using and caring for those guns. Larger vessels should get anti-aircraft weaponry."
Duo sipped his coffee, and wondered what would have happened if Doro and Quatre had met before Treize had screwed everything up. Quatre and Doro would either have dueled to the death, Duo decided, or fallen madly in love and spent the rest of their lives organizing everyone else's lives.
"The Italian state is a weak spot," Doro mused. "Too much coast line to defend, unless we can get the fishermen there to do the same thing. Trowa, how's your Italian?"
"Fair."
"Good. I can't remember the contact in Naples, and we may need a translator."
"Franco," Lena supplied. "He's the temporary commandant."
Doro nodded. "We need to make sure the Italian representatives listen to him. But honestly, that nation-state has traditionally always been entered through Sicily--" She tapped the tiny nation just south of Italy. "--or through France or Austria. Austria is a bigger risk, since none of us hit it on bombing runs."
"We could head out tonight," Hil offered.
"It's too risky," Doro replied. "Too much to lose."
Hil frowned, and Lena shook her head. "If we bomb them now, we lose credibility and trust if we then ask them to ally with us."
"So we just let the Foundation use those bases as staging grounds?" Hil scowled.
"No, we suggest they sabotage the bases and evict the Foundation like we did," Doro replied, her gaze fixed on the map. "The real dangers are from Spain and Turkey. A bigger danger from Turkey, really, by proximity, but Spain has several large bases on the Mediterranean side, while Turkey has just this one in Izmir." She tapped on the map at that point.
"Our defense will depend on which angle Mariemaia chooses," Trowa murmured.
"If it's true that Bulgaria and Romania are willing to ally," Doro continued, "then they'll need us to explain how we evicted. If they do, Cat, you go as backup for the process. Duo, you'll go with her. It's your call whether you'll need Hil and Trowa, too."
"My call?" Duo made a face, then grinned widely. "Party in Bulgaria. Trowa's bringing the beer." Heero smacked Duo on the back of the head again, but Duo dodged it easily.
"So we're looking at Turkey, Spain, Hungary, France, and Austria," Doro said, ignoring the men. "Northern Africa's toast, at this point." She flashed a quick smile at Duo. "No staging grounds without considerable rebuilding, which means we have a bit more warning on ship-based attacks. The real risk is from night time runs and long-range bombing from the middle of the Mediterranean."
"If we could get Spain and France," Cat pointed out, "we could block at the Strait of Gibraltar, and again at the eastern edge of Greece, between the Aegean and the Black Sea."
"Tall order," Duo muttered. "One thing at a time, I say."
"Agreed." Doro glanced at Heero. "You'll stay here, and protect Lena. She's not to be alone with those two-faced bastards."
Lena scowled. "I'm not a child."
"But you are human," Doro replied evenly. "You're now a figurehead, and a woman of some importance. If Mariemaia wanted to take this all down in one move, all she'd have to do is kill you. Or better, kidnap you and show you off as a prisoner."
"So what do I do? Sit around and knit booties?"
"No. You are going to declare war on the Foundation."
End Part 28
(:./sol/tetra28)
