Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Restless Peace ❯ The Turning Point ( Chapter 12 )

Disclaimer: See previous parts.

Pairings: 4xDC, 13x11, OCxHS, allusion to 3xMU

Period: May 12, 197 to June 3, 197

 

 

Restless Peace: The Turning Point

 

“I'm not going to have a better day, a more magical moment, than the first time I heard my daughter giggle.” -Sean Penn

“Of all the stratagems, knowing when to quit is the best.” -Chinese Proverb

 

12 May AC 197—St. Joseph Hospital, Newsborough, former Cinq Kingdom

Quatre held the world in his arms, the most precious thing in the universe. Lacey Jane Winner was less than six hours old, and she slept peacefully in her father's arms. Quatre was still amazed by the small creature resting in his arms, and he wanted to wake her up. However, both the nurse and Dorothy insisted he let her sleep. Dorothy was also supposed to get her rest, but she was still awake. Lacey started to stir as light hit her eyes. He shielded his daughter's face as the sun started rising in the huge window.

 

“I think she wants her mother,” Quatre smiled, handing her the babe.

 

“El meu bebe,” she murmured feeding her newborn.

 

“Speaking in tongues again, I see,” he smiled again. “Your cousins explained it all to me. They said the baby had to be fluent in all the languages you are.”

 

“They told you that?” she chuckled.

 

“Yes, they did. So, how many languages do you know?” he inquired watching his daughter feed. He gently stroked the little fuzz of hair she had.

 

She thought about it. “Well, Catalonian's know a lot of languages—well depending on where you are. Everyone knows Catalan, and some people refuse to learn any other language. We were raised in Barcelona, so we also spoke Spanish on the streets. Then, of course, everyone must learn English and French if they're to be out in the world.”

 

“Of course,” he smiled wider. “Parles-tu francais?”

 

“Oui, je parle,” she returned. “Pourquoi est-ce que tu apprends le francais?”

 

“Oh, my father insisted that I learn. I never knew why, but I suppose it's because my mother was French and he wanted me to have at least part of her with me. He couldn't tell me that was why, though, not without telling me my mother had given birth to me.” She smiled instead of asking how he felt about it. She was not going to open that particular can of worms on this day.

 

“She's so beautiful,” Dorothy said as she held the baby closer.

 

“Does it hurt?” he asked suddenly. He glanced from the baby suckling her mother to Dorothy's face.

 

“It doesn't really hurt, just a little tender.”

 

“What does it feel like?” he blushed faintly. She almost laughed at him, but she held it inside. She found it endearing how he could still be a little embarrassed at a little thing like his daughter breastfeeding; he was still a little innocent and naïve despite the war.

 

“It's hard to describe, but it's wonderful.”

 

“¡Mi sobrina!” exclaimed Dorothy's aunt Julia as she burst in the room followed by a horde of relatives. They entered the room, all speaking in rapid Spanish and Catalan and all at once. They surprised Quatre by not excluding him. Most of the older women grabbed him and hugged him fiercely, kissing his cheeks multiple times. He felt his face redden as he was usually not greeted in such a manner by women except for those in his family. The older men shook his hand vigorously and hugged him with many ecstatic pats on the back. The younger people, Dorothy's cousins, were polite to him, but they did not attack him with greetings and congratulations. They did, however, head straight to the baby and Dorothy.

 

“¿Cual es su nombre? What is her name?” Aunt Julia—or was it Aunt Laura?—asked.

 

“Lacey,” Dorothy answered brightly. “Lacey Jane Winner is her name.” Everyone immediately starting murmuring, and they focused their eyes on Quatre. He felt certain they were blaming him for something, something about their child's name, but he could not understand what they were saying. It was hard enough learning Spanish without them mixing other languages into their talk.

 

“No Winner Catalonia? Por que no Catalonia?” an elderly woman asked. Quatre tried to decide who she was while Dorothy responded in Spanish. They all started arguing, and Quatre stopped listening.

 

“Tu prometida ignora la tradicion,” a male cousin told Quatre. He gave Quatre a look, as if he were expecting him to do something. Quatre looked to Dorothy who promised to explain later.

 

Quatre took a seat and read the book he read in the waiting room while Dorothy gave birth. Lacey was handed over to each of the relatives who cooed over the baby appreciatively. Dorothy answered questions relaxing back down in bed. Eventually, they had to leave and filed out after handing the sleeping babe to her father. He still smiled over her, stroking Lacey's cheek lightly.

 

“How are you feeling?” he asked of Dorothy.

 

“Much more tired than before my family showed up,” she replied with a weak smile as she closed her eyes.

 

“Why did they get so upset?”

 

“Lacey's name,” she said.

 

“I gathered that much.”

 

“In Spain, everyone has two last names: your father's then your mother's. They were upset her last name is only Winner; they want her name to be Lacey Jane Winner Catalonia. They think you wanted only your name there because of,” she took a deep breath, “snobbery. Then they were upset her name was really Anglicized. They'd rather her name be more Spanish, of course.”

 

“I'm sure my family would rather her name be more Arabic,” he smiled.

 

“Yes, I'm sure. They also inquired about my name once I marry you.”

 

“And what do they think it should be?”

 

“Dorothy Catalonia de Winner,” she answered, “but most women consider the `de' to imply `ownership.' They wanted to make sure I wasn't one of them.”

 

“What did you tell them?”

 

“I told them I wouldn't take on your name at all, and I'd remain Dorothy Catalonia, plain and simple.”

 

He chuckled, “I imagine that's when your aunt Sofia clutched her heart and everyone gasped?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Is that what you're really going to do? Keep your maiden name?”

 

“Yes, Quatre, I don't want to change my identity,” she said, her voice getting stronger.

 

“You'd still be the same person whether you're Dorothy Catalonia or Dorothy Winner!”

 

 

“Then why does it matter if I change my name or not?”

 

They kept their gaze locked sternly for a minute or two before Quatre looked down at the baby who stirred again. He heard Dorothy pull the sheets over herself.

 

“You better rest to get your strength up while you still can,” he told her.

 

“Why? What's going to happen?”

 

“My family will be landing in a couple hours.”

 

13 May AC 197—Schbeiker Residence, Colony C-421, L-2 Colony Cluster

Duo tried to hide his glare, but he ultimately failed.

 

“Well, this is what you get when you go away for three months right after you start dating,” he thought to himself. Hilde had a new boyfriend. She was not trying to get back at Duo, he knew, but she got tired of waiting. He understood with as much as he kept leaving her, but there was something wrong about this guy.

 

“Hilde went to the store,” informed the guy, Timothy Barton—no relation to Trowa or the psycho family of Mariemaia. Duo checked. Timothy sat on the couch, waiting the return of his girlfriend. He had tried to read a magazine, but Hilde's roommate's gaze gave him an uncomfortable feeling, so he just sat there waiting like he promised.

 

“How do you know Hilde?”

 

“Um, well,” he cleared his throat, “I moved here a couple months ago for work. Hilde and her sister helped me get to know the town. When her sister moved out, Hilde felt lonely in the house since she was, um, alone then, so we spent more time together….”

 

“And that's how you two ended up in a relationship?”

 

“Well…yes, it is.” Duo stared at him. “I, uh—Hilde! You're back! Let me help you.” Timothy rushed over to her side and grabbed a bag taking it into the kitchen quickly. Hilde gave Duo a disapproving look.

 

“I didn't say anything to scare him. I just asked him how you two met,” Duo grinned.

 

“Uh-huh,” Hilde said, not buying it. “Duo, I thought we agreed. We live together, so it's hard enough. I can't wait for you. You'll always have a home here, Duo, but we just can't have a relationship right now.” Duo stood and walked over to her, planting a kiss on her forehead.

 

“I know; I know. You're right.” He headed to the door.

 

“Duo! Where are you going?” she demanded.

 

“Out to the town,” he said as he walked out. “Don't worry. I'll be home in time for dinner.” He grinned to reassure her. Once the door shut, he bolted down the street. He ran straight to one of his favorite places on the colony: Heavenly Park. He sat on the bench and watched the older children play. They started off with soccer, but when they finished the first game, they switched to American football. Duo watched them with envy at their lives. They were children being able to act like such. He was poised on the threshold of adulthood, and he had never been as carefree as those children. He had come close to it living in the Maxwell church but never achieved it like that.

 

His digital phone rang halfway through the football game. It was Quatre.

 

“Duo, are you okay? I tried you at Hilde's house since you said you'd be there, but she said you jut ran out. Is everything okay?” Quatre inquired right away.

 

“I'm fine, Quatre. I just needed some fresh air.”

 

“Hilde thought it might be because of some guy named Timothy.”

 

Duo growled at the name. “It's not him…or her.”

 

“Duo…are you sure you're okay?” Quatre asked.

 

“I'm fine. I'll explain later, okay? I just want some time to think it over. Hey, I read in the paper this morning about your daughter. Congratulations!”

 

“Thank you. Her name is Lacey Jane; she's seven pounds eleven ounces, and she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen!”

 

Duo laughed. “It sounds like someone's a proud father.”

 

“You bet I am.”

 

“How's Dorothy?”

 

“She's fine. She's been sleeping a lot, which is understandable after ten hours of hard labor. We were afraid she'd die, but the doctors say the main reason she lived was because she's from Earth and hasn't been to space for long periods of time.”

 

“Well, that's good. You've had many visitors?”

 

“Dorothy's family came around eleven in the morning yesterday, and then mine came around four in the afternoon. Trowa and Midii came earlier today and left a few minutes ago. Duo, if you need to talk, you can always call.”

 

He smiled. “Yeah, Quatre, I know. Thanks. Listen, congrats on the kid and all. I have to head home. If I'm late for dinner, Hilde leaves me on my own, and I'm not the best cook in the world. Plus, we're having steak.”

 

“Well, I'd run home if I were having steak for dinner,” chuckled Quatre. Duo laughed as well, but he did, in fact, run home for dinner.

 

20 May AC 197—Preventers' Headquarters, Paris, former France

“I have faith in your abilities, Lady,” His Excellency, Treize, said. “You'll go far wherever you decide to serve.” He let his finger linger on the page a moment longer before turning it. Lady Une stood off to the side.

 

“Please,” he continued. “Sit down.” He offered the chair across from him.

 

“Sir, you still have much work to finish,” she reminded him. Today, she was Lady, not Colonel, Une.

 

“One hour will not delay Operation: Daybreak,” he assured. “We have been working hard for the past few days. In order for our minds to work functionally, we must let them rest periodically.”

 

“My mind has not worked nearly as hard as yours, Your Excellency,” she smiled.

 

“You don't give yourself enough credit, Lady.” He returned the smile. “Have you procured the shuttles?”

 

“Of course, sir,” she guaranteed. “They will both be waiting for you on the day of the meeting. The pilots already have their instructions.”

 

“Good, now, I would like you to have a leak in our information.”

 

“A leak, sir?”

 

“Yes, Lady, a leak,” he clarified, “Let false information leak through our military channels that all of OZ's top officers will be gathering at the New Edwards Base.”

 

“Yes, sir,” she said, though she could not fathom why he would want that information leaked. As he said, it was false, but she trusted it was for some ulterior motive he had not yet explained to her.

 

“All in good time,” he assured as if able to read her mind. He gave his best smile, which was the only smile Lady had ever seen him use. “It won't be too long before you know the whole plan.”

 

“You have my full trust,” she pledged.

 

“I'm glad to hear it, Lady. Coincidentally, I was hoping to hear that for a specific reason,” he went on, “You know I have only your best interest at heart. I only want what's best for you and what will make you happy.”

 

“Yes, sir, I know,” she smiled. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

 

“There is a man you should meet,” he said with glint in his eye Lady had not seen before. “His name is Nicholas Kedlin, and I believe you two will work quite nicely with each other.”

 

“We're to work with each other?” she asked. She would rather keep her duties serving directly under His Excellency.

 

“Well, I would hope you would,” he said, “However, it is not mandatory. We will see how the course of history goes.”

 

“I understand.” He wanted her to work with Nicholas, but he would not force her to do anything against her will. He would also not take them away from their stations and duties for no reason unless the situation required it. He did, nevertheless, hope they would create a situation that did require them to work with each other.

 

Treize swirled the wine in its glass. “There is a saying—I believe a French proverb—that states, `In water, one sees one's own face, but in wine, one beholds the heart of another.'”

 

 

“I have faith in your abilities…. You'll go far wherever you decide to serve.”

 

 

Lady Une shook her head clear of the memory. She was at work, and this was no time to be reminiscing about His Excellency Treize. Nicholas Kedlin waited in her office. He sat in one of the chairs across from her, and he clearly did not notice her wandering mind, or he simply chose to ignore it. He had finished his report half an hour ago, and he continued, switching to talking about their past, when she requested him to stay in the office. She never knew why His Excellency wanted her to spend more time with Nicholas, but he did seem like a very nice young man, though he did not have nearly as much grace and charm as His Excellency. Then again, all men fell short in that area.

 

“So, that was the last time I saw His Excellency,” Nicholas finished with a cheerless tone. He readjusted himself in the chair.

 

“Thank you, Nicholas,” she said with genuine feelings.

 

“I'm sorry to interrupt you, ma'am,” apologized her secretary, “but there's a man on the phone who is very angry and persistent in speaking with you.”

 

“Who's the man?”

 

“General James Vandivier, ma'am,” the secretary answered, “Should I put him through?”

 

“Yes, go ahead,” she allowed. “It's fine.” She looked at Nicholas. “I hope you don't mind.”

 

He shrugged. “I understand. Do you want me to leave?”

 

“No,” she shook her head, “this will only take a minute.” He nodded and leaned back in his seat as she took the call.

 

“General Vandivier,” greeted Lady. “To what do I owe the honor?”

 

“You're still holding my eldest hostage,” the elder man growled. His short hair used to be the color of sand, but it was slowly turning grey. “I've supplied the government with those extra bombs, and I managed to stir enough loyalty in a few of my former men to aid your agents.”

 

“Yes, it was a huge sacrifice on your part.” She let some sarcasm into her voice. “We still need your aid, however. Did you get our list?”

 

“Unfortunately,” the former general snarled. “You cannot hold my children ransom forever. I won't do another thing until you return my children.” His grey eyes took on a stern set.

 

“You will do everything we ask,” she hissed. “Your children are perfectly safe alongside my own daughter. You will do everything we request in a timely manner. Your children are merely here to make sure you hold true to your promise!”

 

“My children have done nothing wrong! Wait until the press hears of this!”

 

“They will not get one little whiff of this. If any member of the press asks one question pertaining to your children, both of them will be prosecuted for war crimes.”

 

“Is that a threat? They haven't done anything in any war.”

 

“You'd be surprised at what information I can have my agents dig up. The twins have told me already they helped you some in the war, so I'm sure I can find enough evidence.”

 

The older man glared for a few moments but said nothing. Eventually, he just nodded and signed off. Lady rubbed her temples to get rid of the tension.

 

“Are you okay?” inquired Nicholas.

 

She sighed. “I'm fine, just tired of it all. I wish I could take a break, but that will only happen when things settle down here.” She sighed again. “I haven't had enough time with Mariemaia either. The last time I saw her was two and half months ago. I think by now she's no longer star struck by that singer.”

 

“Singer?” asked Nicholas.

 

“The general's son,” she explained. “Alaron Vandivier is the lead singer of some group. Midnight Cherubs, I think. The world knows him by the name Van, though.”

 

“It sounds vaguely familiar,” he said. “Why don't you take a few days off, for the weekend, perhaps? You can go see her and maybe even take her home.”

 

“I wish I could, but I won't put Mariemaia in danger.”

 

“Surely, a visit won't put her in danger, but you would know more about the danger than I,” he said.

 

“I'll think about it,” she said quietly. She went into thought, and he almost stood to leave her.

 

“Did His Excellency ever confide in you?” she asked suddenly.

 

“Confide…in me?”

 

“Yes, you see,” she explained, “I was his confidant in many regions of his life, but he still kept some areas of it a mystery to me. I never pushed him on it. However, I know he confided in Lt. Zechs, but I wondered if he confided in others as well.”

 

“I suppose he confided in me, some,” he stated slowly. “Still, I doubt he told me anything that was too personal. We only met in person a handful of times. Usually, I just sent in reports, and occasionally he would have time to send me feedback on the quality of it. Is there something specific you were looking for?”

 

“I find myself wondering if I'm really continuing his work or raising his daughter in a way he would approve.”

 

“His Excellency never wanted you to simply follow in his footsteps. He would want you to take your own path, which is not his exact path. You're doing an excellent job, even if you push yourself too hard sometimes.” He smiled. “He thought you were one of his brightest colonels. He knew you would go far.”

 

“He spoke of me to you?”

 

“Well, he occasionally did tell me about you,” he said carefully. “Nothing too personal, I assure you. I was not that close to him.”

 

“His Excellency spoke of you a few times.” She stared out the window. “The first time he told me about you…I got the impression he wanted us to do more than work together.” Nicholas shifted uneasily in his chair. He grunted and cleared his throat, and he kept his gaze away from her.

 

“Did he say anything about it to you?”

 

“Well…maybe a few things,” he admitted.

 

“What did he say to you?”

 

“Just…a few things,” he stalled.

 

“Tell me, please.”

 

“His Excellency thought we might…make a fine match,” he blushed and looked away.

 

“A fine match?” she asked. She was now looking straight at him, eyebrows raised.

 

“That was his thought until he…. Well, I guess you know, until he took an interest in you himself.” His blush deepened, and she studied him in a different light.

 

 

Lady lay next to His Excellency Treize. He wrapped his arms around her and held her in the bed they now shared. She closed her eyes as she rested her head on his chest. They lay there quietly for a few minutes, listening to the other's breathing pattern.

 

“Oh, sir,” she smiled.

 

“Please, Lady,” he requested, “don't call me that here.”

 

“Sorry, si….”

 

The phone rang. He let it ring a few times before picking it up. She only heard his half of the conversation, but she gathered he was speaking with Lt. Zechs. He sighed and hung up minutes later. He settled back into the bed, glanced at her, and then stared at the ceiling. A few breaths went by before she questioned him on the call.

 

“It's nothing that can't wait another hour,” he said closing his eyes.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

He opened his eyes and gazed her for a moment; then he planted a kiss on her lips and settled back down. “Yes, I am.” She held her gaze on his face as she too settled back into bed. He refused to look at her, instead gazing off into the ceiling as thoughts took over his mind. She pondered words to say and questions to ask, but none sounded right, so she just lay there in silence. His eyes closed, and he eventually fell asleep with a light snore. She closed her eyes and settled back into him. Whatever it was, it could wait. They needed a rest. They had the rest of their lives.

 

22 May AC 197—Vysehrad Palaces, Burlok, former Iasi Kingdom

Lenore sat on the bench reading her book in the sunshine. The king was done with her for the day, and the ministers had taken the day off. They headed to summer houses to their whores, so she had nothing else to do at the moment. A commotion came from nearby the stables. She left the book on the bench and headed toward the noise. Pavlo Droski lay on the ground, blood all around him from a gunshot wound. She gasped in horror. However, he stirred a little, and she saw the shot was not fatal. Everyone left on the palace grounds now circled Pavlo. They all looked around for the shooter.

 

“Looking for me?” a woman walked into the circle. She wore her black hair in a ponytail, and her glasses rested in front of her amethyst eyes. “Yes, I am the one who shot him. I figured it was the easiest way to find the Preventer.” Everyone started whispering.

 

“There are no…Preventers here,” gasped Pavlo on the ground.

 

“That's right,” agreed a man.

 

“There is, and I'm here to find the agent. Now, show me where!” the woman announced.

 

“Who are you?” another man asked loudly.

 

“She's certainly not from around here,” another said.

 

“There you are,” the lady smirked as her eyes settled on Lenore. The agent took a step back and put on a look of surprise.

 

“What? Are you insane?” she said.

 

“You're the Preventer. You're the one who allows it to happen.”

 

“Allows what to happen? I'm not an agent.”

 

“You are…Agent Lyod.”

 

“I don't know what you're talking about. You've made a terrible mistake,” Lenore said, silently cursing. How did she know?

 

“I don't think so,” the mysterious woman affirmed taking out a gun and leveling it to Lenore's heart.

 

“Stop it!” The crowd started dispersing. Lenore hid herself in the crowd and headed for the palace. It was not yet time to die. She had to live for her mission, and the king would keep her safe.

 

“Now, now,” the woman said softly. She took aim and hit her mark.

 

23 May AC 197—Dobbins AFB, Marietta, State of Georgia, former United States of America

General Vandivier held in a growl. He did not appreciate taking orders from an enemy, even a former one. Still, he would not let his former subordinates see the disagreement between himself and his “superior.” He watched the former soldiers pack what little weapons they still had into crates. Une's demands had forced him to go to his former servicemen practically begging for more ammunition. The former colonel (a colonel!) sent a fairly large shopping list. His own resources were stretched, especially from her former demands. In order to fill the request, he had had to go friends and ask for what little they had kept. Most were not in the giving mood, even for the reputation and well-being of his children.

 

“Sir!” called one of his former lieutenants. “Come quick! It's a fire!”

 

“Fire?” he snapped. “How the hell did a fire start?” He nearly ran over to follow the man. He stopped as he turned the corner. There was, indeed, a small fire in one of the buildings, and a small crowd stood there, preventing anyone from extinguishing it. He snapped at the men ordering them to put it out despite the crowd. The attempted to follow his orders, but a few in the crowd fired on them.

 

“Sir! This way!” exclaimed another lieutenant. He grabbed his arm and yanked him while he was still in shock. His men were not killed, and he thankfully saw them limp away. He did not see where the crowd went, but the base was soon covered in flames.

 

“How could they have spread it so quickly,” he said with dread in his voice. “Where are they? Bring them in!”

 

“Then are on it, sir, but…the few they've managed to capture won't speak. They just….” He let the sentence dangle and stared at the fiery inferno.

 

“They just what?” demanded Vandivier.

 

“They just kill themselves, sir.”

 

29 May AC 197—Brussels Presidential Residence, Brussels, former Belgium

“What?” the President practically yelled. “Who is doing this? Why are they doing it?”

 

“No one has claimed responsibility,” Lady said softly in contrast, “and no one has given a reason, either.” There had been numerous attacks in the past few days. Preventers in uniform, and some not in uniform, had been attacked all over Earth Sphere. Former military bases, which were still in the process of dismantling, were torched and burnt to the ground. Former soldiers were harassed at home, and a few had been hurt or taken. Lady had received numerous threats on her life, and a few people tried to get close to her, but they never got far. Dorothy's household reported that Mariemaia herself had also had some problems. Sylvia Noventa had taken the girl to a safe summer house, and they left the twins at Dorothy's mansion in hopes of keeping attention away from Mariemaia's disappearance. Van had started singing around town, and the twins did crazy things to get on the news. No one attacked them. The President and other government officials were bombarded with millions of anonymous letters demanding the execution of soldiers and the revelation of the Gundam pilots. They also demanded that the Preventers be “put on a leash.”

 

“How could someone attack us with no reason? Why won't they claim responsibility?” questioned the President.

 

“Actually, they sound like us,” Wufei mused wryly.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“When we came to Earth, we attacked military bases, but we never revealed a name, ours or an organization. We never explained why we attacked; we just did it. We weren't there for glory, so it didn't matter who we were,” Wufei explained.

 

“Perhaps this group thinks they are just doing what needs to be done?” Zechs offered.

 

“Great, a self-righteous group is all we need,” muttered the President.

 

“What do they want?” Wufei wondered. “A lot of their demands are close to the old protestors we just put down. These people are more like rebels, and they don't seem to like the Preventers either.”

 

“Perhaps they're behind the protestors to begin with? That was Act One, and now they are upping the stakes for Act Two?” suggested Lady. “Or perhaps this is Act Three….”

 

“Act Three? I assume Act Two would have been the protestors, so what was Act One?” Wufei asked.

 

“I'm not sure about the main part of Act One, but I know it ended with threatening all of us.”

 

“You were threatened? How?” the President inquired.

 

“Several of us were. The bombing of my office was a warning to me. They kidnapped the sister of Trowa Barton, a former Gundam pilot and Preventer. They kidnapped the brother of his girlfriend, Midii Une, who was a spy for the Alliance—and no relation to me. They torched the scrap yard of Duo Maxwell, also a former Gundam pilot and Preventer. Then they broke into Heero Yuy's apartment and took his landlady—a woman he's close to. She was recovered within the day like the others. They've done nothing else so far, but we're sure they will soon.”

 

“This is great,” the older man sighed.

 

“Zechs, do you think the Brotherhood could be behind this?” Lady looked to him.

 

“It's certainly possible they're in it,” he said, pondering while he spoke, “Aderton Cohen is most likely involved, but I'm not sure he's at the top. Ryce Toole would also be heavily involved. If they're involved, though, they're number two and three if not one and two.”

 

“What do you think of them?”

 

“They'll be formidable foes. I checked their backgrounds with the help of Nicholas Kedlin and the Winners' database. Aderton Cohen had no significant information. He was involved in various charities and non-profit organizations since he was about eighteen—nothing that set off any alarms, all peaceful institutes. During the war, he never enrolled in the military; he kept his desk job. His right-hand man Ryce Toole, however, was much more involved. He was a Mariemaia soldier recently. He was also an OZ soldier. However, his excessive violence and torturing made Treize take him down personally. Once he was forced to leave OZ, he roamed the Earth and the colonies. He never joined any other military organization, and it seemed he stopped his violent ways. Before he joined OZ, we have no information except his family was assassinated.”

 

“What do you mean `it seemed he stopped his violent ways'?” the President inquired. Both he and Wufei watched Lady and Zechs as they seemed very nonchalant about it.

 

“His Excellency had us keep an eye on Ryce Toole. He didn't want to unleash a monster on the population. However, he never committed a violent act, and there wasn't a trail of violence following him. A few horrible crimes happened while he was staying in a few places, but investigations indicated other men did it, and they were not under his command,” Lady explained. “Toole is not a leader, so we always assumed that without someone telling him who the enemy was, he just stopped attacking until he found someone else who would take him.”

 

“I remember him vaguely from X-18999,” Wufei said as he remembered. “He was always quiet during arguments, but when it came to cool, calm discussions, he would speak up and let his opinion known.”

 

“Sounds different from the Toole I knew from my days in the Academy, then,” Zechs remarked. “He was always getting in fights, even jumping in ones not his own, no matter if they were with words or with fists.”

 

“The blow from Treize must have changed him, then,” Wufei said. “He didn't like drawing too much attention to himself, but he wouldn't hold back once he started either.”

 

“Or he grew up,” Lady mused. “He always acted a little too juvenile for an OZ soldier.”

 

“You don't seem too worried about these two,” the President said.

 

“Aderton is a political idealist; he may send men to do violent acts, but he's no barbarian. I doubt it was even he who sent them to do the violence. They probably did it on their own or on someone else's orders,” Zechs explained. “As for Ryce…we just take out the head, and he'll be lost once again. Then we can take care of him.”

 

“We need to take out the heads first,” Lady insisted. “We need to coax Cohen and the others on that second level to show us their leader. Everything after that is cleanup.”

 

“Duo's in space, ready to search. Trowa is on his way up there tomorrow,” Wufei reported. “Heero is ready to leave at any moment, as am I.”

 

“And Quatre? Oh, yes, he's staying with Dorothy and his daughter.”

 

“Yes, but he said if we needed him, he would go,” Wufei continued. “Sally is waiting with Noin—er Lucrezia.”

 

“I'll pick them up soon enough,” promised Zechs.

 

“So what do you suggest we do, Preventer Une?” questioned the President. The men turned their eyes toward her.

 

“Well, we'll hunt down Toole, Cohen, and the others like them, including their boss,” she said. “I'm going to call all former Gundam pilots and top agents back to work on strategy. Once we've decided on one, I shall inform you.” The meeting over, they nodded and stood. Lady, Zechs, and Wufei headed toward the door.

 

“Oh, Preventer Une,” started the President. “May I have a word with you?”

 

“Yes, sir,” she nodded. “What is this about?”

 

“Calling the former Gundam pilots back for strategy,” he answered and shut the door on Wufei and Zechs.

 

03 June AC 197—Peacecraft Mansion, New Port City, former Cinq Kingdom

“It's peaceful here,” Duo muttered. Quatre made a noise in agreement. They both stood on the patio of Relena's mansion. They leaned against the railing looking out at the forest. The lush trees provided a sea of green hues. Birds sang from their hidden places, and small animals darted here and there. Everything was alive, charged by the atmosphere of the season. The warm air held the faint taste of salt from the sea port. Horns from the port broke the song of the birds but did not disturb the others.

 

Dorothy and Relena both decided the Cinq Kingdom was the best place to hold the small party—Quatre was happy to be away from both their relatives and reporters. The women were inside opening gifts. It was a combination belated baby shower and birth day party. Before, Relena and everyone, including Lacey's parents, were too busy with protestors, rioters, and terrorists to plan a baby shower.

 

Now, there was still a crisis, but most of them were left in the dark. The government seemed to agree with the protestors (who still followed Relena, Quatre, Une, and other government officials). Congress allowed Relena to keep her job, but she was only given information pertaining to her work. She had shrewdly tried to use a case on which she was working to get information on this so-called Brotherhood, but the file clerk (a not much older human being, but one who had obviously graduated college) just gave her a condescending look and politely refused to fill her claim. Quatre received much of the same treatment when he fished for information using his political ties or at board meetings. He would have fired some of his own employees for refusing to get him the information if he had not been convinced the government was blackmailing them with jail time. And when Relena and Quatre went to Une, she was never able to help them. Quatre had officially resigned the day Lacey was born, and that information was only for Preventers. Of course, this was a lie as Une and others were holding information from Heero, Duo, and Trowa. The only one under eighteen who seemed to know everything was Wufei; he seemed to know everything. Heero and Trowa had taken him to an empty room away everyone in hopes that he would tell them away from Une's icy glare, or they would break him. It did not really matter to Heero and Trowa. They always got the information they needed one way or another.

 

“You think he'll spill?” Duo asked.

 

“He will,” Quatre assured. He turned and took his daughter as the girls exited to another room giggling.

 

“I wonder what they're doing.”

 

“Hn,” Quatre grunted, seeming to bite his tongue. Duo looked at him sideways trying to read his stony expression.

 

“Trouble in paradise?” inquired Duo.

 

“…we've been arguing a lot. It starts out bickering, but we usually end up in a full blown fight.”

 

“That's just because you have a newborn keeping you two sleep-deprived.”

 

“I hope that's it.”

 

 

“So they haven't made another move?” Heero inquired.

 

“No,” Wufei shook his head. “In America, they've all but stopped operations. They're actually focusing on charity work. The one in France is starting up now, not that gaggle of rioters that met there either. Une's using someone from the inside.”

 

“Who could that be?” Trowa questioned with narrowed eyes.

 

“You know her,” Wufei stated simply. Trowa growled lowly.

 

“Is anyone else on the move?” Heero changed subjects.

 

“Nothing major,” he shook his head. “We're monitoring them, though. Une is focused on finding out who's responsible for all this. She wants the head taken down, and she's going to focus all personnel on him.”

 

“That doesn't sound like the smartest—wait, what was that?” All stopped and heard someone heading swiftly down the hall. Une was on the way down. They had agreed earlier to make it seem as if they had beaten Wufei if someone should discover them. Heero and Trowa made their punches quickly. Wufei gasped and winced. He sat up as straight as he could. Heero and Trowa had not held back their punches in their haste. Now he knew how Duo felt!

 

“Spilling secrets, Chang?” Une said in that almost-seductive tone. “Boys, you do not have authorization to know any of that.”

 

“We saved the world, and now you're saying we're too young?” Duo exclaimed as he and Quatre appeared behind her.

 

“Actually, this has nothing to do with your ages. Only Wufei is a full-time agent. Our new policy won't allow part-time agents, whoever they are or once were, to be given the same clearance to sensitive information,” she explained.

 

“How do you expect us to do our job?” challenged Trowa. “If you want us to our best, we have to know all the information.”

 

“Trowa's right. Keeping information from us will only lead to mistakes. We've always relied on good, full information,” Heero agreed. “When we all took on the jacket, even if it's just temporary, you promised never to hold back on us and never to question our methods.”

 

“Times change,” she said coolly. “And I never should have made that promise. It wasn't mine to give. I won't favor you because of the past. I have the entire agency to think of, the entire world to protect. It's time you learn to live in this world.”

 

“It's time we grow up, you mean,” Duo sneered.

 

“That's not what I mean, and you know it,” she hissed. “You're acting quite like spoiled children right now though.” For a moment, they just scowled at her.

 

“Things have gotten worse the longer we've stayed on,” Trowa stated.

 

“You keep restricting our access,” Duo chimed in.

 

“Questioning our methods,” Heero added.

 

“And watching us very closely, like we're the enemy,” Quatre finished.

 

“I called you all here to tell you all at once how things are going to change,” Une continued as if she had not heard them. “If you don't like how things are being run, quit. It's as simple as that.” They paused for a moment. No one was sure what to say.

 

Trowa tossed his badge and government-issued gun to her feet and headed to the door. “Then, I quit.”

 

**Translation Notes**

Spanish:

¡Mi sobrina!—My niece!

¿Cual es su nombre?—What is her name?

Tu prometida ignora la tradicion—Your fiancée is ignoring tradition

Other:

El meu bebe—My baby (Catalan)

Pourquoi est-ce que tu apprends le francais?—Why did you learn French? (French)