Thanks to: All the reviewers and readers, and the War Room. ^_^
Special Thanks: To Sol, who helped me out with this chapter, and to the rest of the War Room, to just basically listening to me bitch and whine about not wanting to write. For people who love to write so much, we sure bitch about doing it a lot. ^___^
"But what do we mean by the American Revolution? Do we mean the American War? The revolution was effected before the war commenced. The revolution was in the minds and hearts of the people."
--- Geoffrey F. Abert
"How the hell did we wind up like this?
And why weren't we able
to see the signs that we missed
and try to turn the tables..."
--- Nickelback, Someday
"Graffiti decorations
Under a sky of dust
A constant wave of tension
On top of broken trust
The lessons that you taught me
I learn were never true
Now I find myself in question
(They point the finger at me again)
Guilty by association
(You point the finger at me again)..."
--- Linkin Park, Runaway
Requiem for the Sinners Part 30
Darkened Paths
"Water, this is Creek A3. I've got unknown bogies closing on the convoy. Three minutes approximate to first contact. Permission to engage?"
Swearing softly under her breath, Sally pressed a button to pull up burst transmission on the front panel of her Taurus, looking the Preventer admiral face-to-face. Alteroz was a young man with an open, likeable face and a harelip. He also looked angry.
"Are they Legion corsairs?"
"Negative, Sir. The approaching fleet appears to be made up of ships from L1 and accompanying mobile suits of various model. They look like salvage mechs. We've just received a message from the opposing commander. Would you like a relay?"
"Do it."
There was a few moments of delay and static as the admiral switched frequencies, and Sally suddenly found herself face-to-face with a young woman.
There was a red bandana around her forehead, and she stared back at Sally from underneath a shock of dark purple hair. Age had taken away whatever childish softness had remained in the her face, but Sally recognized the young woman immediately.
"Hilde?"
"Sally Po." Hilde looked surprised for a moment, then her face set firmly into an expression of resolve. "I'm Commander Schbeiker, acting on behalf of Councillor Amara Yamagata of L1. This is interstellar territory of the free colonies L1 and L2. Preventer ships do not have authorization to operate here. I'm going to have to order you to withdraw from Colony space, or we will be forced to take military action."
Sally scowled. "Military action? Hilde, those aren't battleships, those are Sweeper cruisers and salvage mechs. You can't possibly hope to turn us back with just those, can you? Be reasonable. I know you aren't foolish."
Hilde narrowed her eyes slightly. "Commander Po, these ships compose the civilian militia of L1 and L2, led by the flagships Yamato and Scharnhorst. We have full military jurisdiction in this area, and are prepared to use it. Do not force us to initiate hostilities."
The young woman closed her eyes a moment, then looked back up at Sally, her voice soft. "Besides, you wouldn't want to fire on ships with civilians on them, do you? There are women and children on these Sweeper cruisers. Withdraw, or we will initiate hostilities. And however you respond will be your responsibility."
Civilians...
"Schbeiker, we're simply passing through. We have no business with L1. There's no need for anyone to die here today."
Hilde smiled a little. Sally didn't like it; it was like Duo's smile: hard, cold, and dangerous. "On the contrary, Commander Po, L1 and L2 have come to an alliance. So any business you have with us is L1's business, as well."
"Sir, what should we do?"
Sally closed the connection between Hilde for a moment, speaking only to Alteroz. "Do not engage until hostile action is taken. I want the ships to stay in a beta formation, keep the convoy secure. Immediate withdrawal, get those convoy birds flapping as fast as their fat asses can take them. Spread out your escort squadron to protect the ships. Do not attack the enemy fleet, and no one is to fire on the cruisers. Understood?"
"But Commander, we've been ordered not to withdraw except in cases of extreme emergency. We have to meet Commander Septem in the L4 sector. And allowing enemy troops to maintain airspace is strictly prohibited."
"This is an emergency, admiral. There are civilian lives at jeopardy."
"Pardon my insubordination, ma'am, but those L2 soldiers are lyin' sons of bitches. How are we supposed to believe what they say? We're supposed to give up just because they say they have John Q. Public on-board? We can't withdraw, orders from HQ state that no hostile troops are to be allowed to maintain military ability. We don't have any authority to countermand those orders. We have an obligation to engage."
"We're withdrawing, and that's an order. Question my authority again, Alertoz, and I'll have you court-martialed."
The young admiral looked angry, but humbled. "... Roger that, Commander, ready for evasive maneuvers."
Sally felt a nagging dread envelop her that had nothing to do with the attack on the Preventer convoy and everything to do with the knowledge of who was behind it all.
Duo... how could you do this? And why?
Suddenly, she was drawn out of her thoughts by the sound of a buster rifle.
She didn't know which side the shot had come from, and afterwards, she supposed it didn't matter. Neither fleet seemed to be hurt by the blast, but both seemed to take it as a signal to engage. Despite her orders, the two fleets met head-on, filling the sky with thunder.
"Withdraw! Withdraw, dammit! That's an order!!"
It was too late. Rather than confuse her troops further, causing more deaths, Sally gave the order she had dreaded giving from the beginning.
"Fire at will! I repeat, Creek A4, 5, 6, and 3, fire at will! Protect the convoy!!"
Explosions bloomed and erupted like brilliant dead flowers as mobile suits on both sides battled and were shot down. Despite their civilian make, the L1 fleet had been equipped for battle. A vibration shook Sally's Taurus as one of the Preventer convoy ships was destroyed. Brilliant tracers streaked through the dark of outer space, shadowed by mobile suit contrails that moved through the blackness like dogfighting comets.
Sweeper ships and mobile suits tore through the Preventers' precise formations, thermonuclear cannons-normally used to destroy small asteroids-blazing, blue streams of fire destroying Preventer pilots and craft alike. Fiery balls of debris that had once been mecha filled the air, ticking off the remaining ships and suits like charred metal rain.
Two of the Sweeper cruisers were destroyed in silent bursts of light. But for every L1 militia craft that went down, a Preventer craft also fell. Only three of the original eight Preventer cruisers were left viable, two of them crippled by missile fire. The Sweeper ships, built more for speed than durability, were being obliterated.
Both sides were systematically destroying each other.
"Sir, the L2 Legion has appeared at our side-flanks. We don't have anywhere to go!!"
"Creek Team, retreat immediately! Fall back! I repeat, fall back now!"
The Preventer troops reassembled, withdrawing hard and fast. Sally pushed the thrust of her mobile suit, relieved to see that it didn't appear they were being followed. Somehow-and she thought it might be the influence of Wufei-she couldn't get over the idea that they were running with their tails between their legs. A hot flash of shame washed over her, and she closed her eyes tightly.
A full Preventer fleet, turned back by a couple of salvage mechs and a Sweeper cruisers. And for what? What have we come down to?
Sighing, she leaned back in the cockpit, opening a frequency with her left admiral. Alteroz was gone. His surviving wingman, Timerman, came up on her front panel. The admiral looked harried, a trickle of blood running down from his hairline. His mobile suit looked as if it was hanging together by nothing but sparks and wires.
"Commander?"
"What's the head count?"
"... 42 KIA, sir. And our remaining convoy is badly damaged."
Many people died today... but many of them didn't have to. Damn you, Noventa.
"Thank you, Timerman. Let's bring our boys back to base."
"Yes sir."
~*~
"Should we follow them, ma'am?"
Hilde pressed the comlink on her panel as she watched the Preventer squadrons retreat. "Not necessary, Randon. Just let them run."
Her eyes narrowed as she watched Sally's convoy fall back, crippled and defeated. But not too crippled, she thought, surveying her own troops on radar. No worse off than us.
And then came the thought that would come back to her again and again, as more and more people were killed, more lives were destroyed, and more homes ravaged by war. She would look out at the destruction, disbelieving and awestruck by the absurdity of it all.
Who fired that shot? Who fired the shot that started the war?
"Skull 2 and 4 fall back. Skull 3, check the debris for survivors. Skull 1 is on scout duty. Make sure that no more of them are coming this way." She opened frequencies, dialing through them with practiced ease until she fell on the one she wanted.
"Jeremiah, thanks for bringing reinforcements. I don't think that we could have driven them off if you hadn't cornered them in like that."
The Legion captain grinned back at her, throwing the L2 commander a wink. "No problem, Hilde. If L1 is going to help watch our backs, L2 has got to do the same for them, right? How is Commander Xiao? That guy Yamagata sent?"
"... They got him."
"Too damned bad, I liked that guy. Don't worry about recon, we'll make sure the waters stay clear, and I'll deploy a unit to keep an eye peeled for you on your way back. You take the wounded back to Paradise. Say hi to Harper for me."
"Be careful, Jer."
"No problem. Over and out."
~*~
Noin tried to sleep. Needed to sleep.
But there was no way she could sleep with the sound of the megaphones coming from the jeeps behind and in front of her own vehicle. People lined either side of the road, watching the Preventer jeeps and tanks with solemn, frightened faces, even though by the colony's time, it was the middle of the night.
There were no jeering cries from the crowds on L3, no signs of protest or violence. There were no cheers, either. The men and women on the sides of the streets were almost completely silent; when they spoke, it was in whispers that swept through the mobs like winds of conspiracy.
Noin would have preferred a little civil disobedience to that deadly, midnight stillness.
Instead of sleeping, she drank hot, black coffee from a paper cup and listened to the news that was playing gently from the jeep radio, while a cadet from the civilian corps drove. For some reason, he seemed intent on hitting every damned bump and dip in the road, but she figured that was partially because she was holding a cup of hot liquid. If she wasn't, the roads would be perfectly smooth.
A loud, metallic voice echoed from the top of the military halftracks; a megaphone, as all-encompassing on the quiet streets as the voice of God.
"Please return to your homes. This colony has been commandeered by Preventer forces for your own protection against rebel factions. Please remain calm. Do not approach the motorcade. Please return to your homes..."
The Preventer commander was trying to recover from jet lag, and failing miserably. She squinted in exhaustion at the operation perimeters in her lap, reading through the papers without actually seeing them.
"Miss Noin? You okay?"
Noin jerked back to awareness with a start, smiling wanly over at the young man in the driver's seat next to her. She didn't take offense in the fact that he didn't address her by title; he was civilian, after all.
"Fine, Collins. Don't worry."
The cadet lowered his voice, to keep from waking the soldiers who had fallen asleep in the back seat of the military jeep. "I don't like all these people lined up on the streets, Miss Noin. It makes me nervous."
"It's all right. Just remember, they're as scared of you as you are of them. There's no reason why there has to be any need to use force, here. We're just trying to maintain control."
At least... I hope that's all we'll end up doing. For all our sakes.
Suddenly, the voice over the megaphone took on a slightly panicked pitch. The military motorcade slowed... slowed... and finally ground to a halt. Somewhere up ahead, Noin's sharp hearing picked up the distinctive sound of cocked rifles.
"Please move aside! Do not interfere!!"
Noin groaned softly. What is it now?
She unlocked the passenger-side door and threw it open, jumping down. Collins glanced over at her, dismayed, his hands clenched nervously on the steering wheel of the jeep. "Miss Noin! You shouldn't leave the jeep! Mis-"
But she was already out and jogging down the side of the motorcade. Up ahead, she could see something, but she wasn't sure what yet.
"Move aside now, or we will have to detain you for obstruction of a military operation!"
Finally, she saw what had stopped the motorcade. A chain of people had formed across the middle of the road, blocking the military vehicles from going any further. They were linked hand-in-hand, standing shoulder to shoulder. There was an air of dignified and terrified immovability to them. As if they were willing to die, if necessary.
The leading patrol officer, a young greenhorn private, was sitting at the top of the halftrack in the lead of the procession. His gun-along with the guns of all the other men on his vehicle, were pointed dead-center in the civilian line. The men and women forming the chain didn't flinch, but Noin saw the young man's hands were shaking with terror. The rifle in them wobbled up and down, visibly.
"Soldier, what the hell are you doing?"
The boy snapped awake, as if he had been in some kind of a trance. He started to turn towards Noin, the gun still raised, and when Noin threw up a hand, he lowered it slowly, looking down at her as if he had never seen her before. "Sir?"
She looked up at all of them, keeping her voice low and soft. Even so, it carried in the stillness. "Put those damned guns down. Now."
The rest of the young men lowered their guns as well. It was only when there was no chance that any soldier would inadvertently kill a bystander that she finally turned to the human chain standing across the road.
"Who is the leader here?" She spoke loudly, completely aware that the eyes of every civilian were on her. No one answered, but she saw a couple of eyes move to the man standing in the middle of the line. She moved over to the front of him, seeing him visibly pale as she stopped, staring into his resolute face.
"Sir, did you organize this protest?"
The middle-aged, heavyset man didn't answer immediately, and she almost asked again before he finally spoke. His deep brown eyes were terrified, but there was not a single tremor in his voice, and Noin was proud for that, if for nothing else.
"All we want is peace."
"Funny," she answered softly.
"... So do we."
~*~
A few feet, to the balcony floor.
Or a grisly death, a hundred feet to the streets below.
Either way, we're going to have to fall. One way or the other.
Trowa stood on the ledge of the main office building of Winner Enterprises, as still and silent as a statue overlooking the L4 city below. Since it was in a colony, there was no wind to blow him over if he lost his balance, but the narrow width of the ledge still made it perilous.
A long way to fall, if we don't choose the right path.
Which is why he stood there in the first place.
Usually, coming out to the roof of the building made him feel calm, as if he could reach up and touch the stars beyond the walls of Colony. He always looked to outer space's harsh, airless otherworldliness to concentrate his mind on the essentials: life or death, survival or extinction. He never failed to be awed by the vast nothingness of it all.
He also realized how terribly vulnerable the colonies all were. They had protected themselves from the forces of nature, sure enough. But there was never any protection from the merciless hand of war.
It's never over. But if we fall this time, who is going to catch us? There's no safety net this time.
Usually, he found tranquility in high places, but not today. Even here, where he felt almost high enough to touch the ceiling of Colony, there was no peace or serenity for him. What he felt more than anything was a deep, smoldering anger. He watched the Earth hanging in the dark sky, glowing blue and decked with streams of pure white clouds. He felt yearning, but only a vague sense of loss.
Duo, Heero, and Wufei have already chosen their paths. So who are we going to fall beside? Who do we trust now? Our deadly old friends... or our deadly new ones. Either way... either way... it's war again.
And he realized that the anger was at himself, not the distant, faceless people of Earth.
We should have known it would come to this.
~*~
"Mr. Winner?"
Suddenly, a soft hand fell on Quatre's shoulder, and he jerked awake, knocking over the cup of cold tea sitting on his desk, spilling it across the papers spread there.
"Oh shit," he muttered drowsily, looking around for something to wipe the mess up with.
His secretary, looked as if she might burst into tears. "Oh, Mr. Winner! I'm so sorry!"
"It's okay, Zahrah," he said, running his hands wearily over his face for a moment before looking up, managing a smile at her. He usually could manage one, no matter what the circumstances. This time, though, it was a real stretch. "Trowa up yet?"
"Yes sir, he went up to the roof, I think. But I came to tell you that Commander Septem of the Preventer Forces is on hold for you. Political business. It sounded rather serious." She stared down at the wet papers on his desk and blushed furiously. "I'll go get something to clean that up."
The mention of Preventers got his attention in a hurry. All of a sudden, he felt completely awake.
He sat up straight, ignoring the painful crick in his neck from sleeping over his desk, and flipped open the vidphone on the slightly-drier side of his desk, clicking it on and connecting to the relay channel. Septem's face came up on the screen, solemn and unreadable.
"General Septem."
"Mr. Winner. Pleased to get to speak to you in person."
He didn't call me Councillor...
"Yes?" Quatre asked, his voice polite and cautious.
"I'm calling to inform you that L4 is going to be used as a military jurisdiction for our forces. We are going to use it as a base of operations in our attempts to subdue L2. Do you understand what this means, sir?"
I understand exactly what you're doing. Quatre felt his blood run hot, and he was sure to keep his face impassive. Instead of saying that, he replied, "I'm certainly sorry, General, but you have to realize that this is a pacifist colony. We can't allow any military organization to set up a base of operations here."
"I don't think you understand, Mr. Winner," Septem replied carefully. "The Preventers are an extension of the World Nation, an alliance that L4 is a part of. Therefore, L4 has no choice in whether or not we station troops there. To be frank, sir, it's not a request. It's a notice. As soon as my troops arrive there, we will be enforcing martial law."
"I'm afraid I must refuse." Still polite, still soft-spoken. Beneath his desk, Quatre's hand clenched the fabric of his slacks tightly, his knuckles white.
"I want to urge you strongly to allow our forces onto L4 under your own free will, Mr. Winner," Septem replied, a degree of heat touching his words. He scowled. "I can't be held responsible for any punishments you may incur should you fail to do so."
"I bet," Quatre replied suddenly, smiling. "The same punishments that... say... Heero Yuy 'incurred', for example? Are you going to throw me in a box and throw away the key as well?"
"Now, look here, Mr. Winner-"
"Oh, right, I see. And while you throw me in a jail cell, I assume your 'troops' will be taking over my colony? Bringing weapons into my colony?"
Septem was eloquently silent.
"If I say no?" Quatre asked, his voice lethally soft.
"We will have no choice but to pursue military action," Septem replied carefully, his expression blank and inscrutable again. "Do you understand, Mr. Winner?"
"I understand," Quatre said, his voice soft. "You're talking about turning a civilian, pacifist colony into a military base to be used against another colony. We must regretfully refuse, General Septem. I'm sorry."
The general looked dismayed. "Mr. Winner, I urge you to-"
"Good-bye, General," Quatre said, cutting the connection gently.
He sat in the silence of the room for a few moments. He gripped the edge of the closed vidphone, meaning to hurtle it across the room, but restrained himself, finally folding his shaking hands over the desk, feeling sticky, damp paper beneath them.
"What is it?"
Quatre looked up into the doorway, where Trowa was standing. Trowa's eyes widened slightly when he saw the grim, resolved expression on Quatre's face. Quatre shook his head. "I'm not going to let them take L4. Not like this."
He looked at the closed vidphone a minute, and then back up at Trowa.
"If anyone is going to be bringing weapons into this colony... it's going to be us."
TBC...
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