After a long summer hiatus, Quicksilver and Gerrald
Tarrant have again begun to write Sainan no Kekka.  
Due to the FFML's downtime, about three acts were NOT
submitted.   Rather then flood the list with over a MB
of fic, we have decided to begin to post our current
act.   Acts are posted weekly.

Sainan no Kekka can be found at: 

http://www.midnightrevolution.org/gundam

All comments, both positive and negative, are welcome
on any part of the story.
QS

=====
"HOW DARE YOU LOOK SO MUCH LIKE MY SAFFIR-CHAN!"

http://www.homestead.com/quicksilverslabyrinth

http://www.method.org/gundam

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-- Attached file included as plaintext by Listar --
-- File: snk61.txt
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Gundam Wing is property of Sotsu Agency, Bandai 

Studios, and TV Asahi. Sainan no Kekka and all 

original characters and plot copyright 2000 by 

Quicksilver and Gerald Tarrant. Please ask 

permission before reposting. 



SHIN KIDOU SENKI GUNDAM WING 

SAINAN NO KEKKA

ACT VI, PART I



Omezame wa itsudemo

Kagayaku asa

Doshafuri wa kono watashi niawanai no 

Kaaten wo aketara

Aoi sora ga

Watashi o sasoitasou ni matte iru wa 

Sou yo suteki na mai nichi

Watashi dake no dorama ga dakara

Jiyuu ni tanoshimu no



When I open my eyes

The morning is always bright

Pouring rain doesn't suit me 

When I open the curtain

The blue sky

Is waiting in invitation for me 

It's true, every day is wonderful

It's my own drama

So I enjoy it freely

--Gundam Wing, Joy to My Life

[Dorothy Catalonia image song]



*******************************************

Scene I: Story of a Girl 

"This is the story of a girl

Who cried a river and drowned the whole world,

And while she looked so sad in photographs

I absolutely love her, when she smiles."

--Nine Days, Absolutely (Story of a Girl)

*******************************************



Love hurt. 



That was something Duo was learning; he'd 

always laughed at the maudlin songs about love, 

yet now he knew they contained truth. Watching 

Hilde quietly tear herself apart was like 

inflicting the same damage upon his rather 

abused soul. 



He should have been more careful, he thought. 

He should have recognized Hilde's determination 

to "protect" him. He knew what an incredibly 

willful creature she was. He knew that she 

would do whatever she believed necessary to 

protect him. Time and again he brought the 

evidence of the Libra incident to his mind to 

chastise himself. 



Hilde wasn't the cheerful girl he had fallen in 

love with anymore. True, she had always had a 

serious side to balance her ever-present 

optimism, but since she had climbed into Wing 

Zero, she hadn't smiled or laughed. He missed 

her smile. 



He had barely been able to keep her fed. She 

would just lie there, in their temporary 

hideaway, staring at nothing. Every now and 

then, tears would roll down her face and she 

would start to whimper like a wounded animal. 

At night she would cling to him so tightly that 

he could scarcely breathe. He would hum and 

sing her the half-forgotten lullabies Sister 

Helen had sung to him, trying to figure out 

what he could possibly do to return her to 

herself. 



His own nightmares of Zero had plagued him ever 

since he had been forced into the system, but 

Hilde's seemed to be worse. None of the others 

had ever really discussed their experiences 

with the System with him; it was something too 

personal. The system raped your mind, left your 

soul bare and did its best to twist you into 

something you were not, or perhaps even more 

frightening, distilled you to the essence of 

what you were. Of course they all had had 

nightmares about it. 



Duo wished he had told Hilde what had 

transpired in those desperate hours he had had 

wires strapped to his skull as the psychotic 

military officer had made him a guinea pig. 

Then maybe she wouldn't have been so eager to 

jump into the pit of hell for him. 



He missed playing around with her. 



/"You're always wearing such concealing 

clothes. I wish I could see what you looked 

like in a bikini," Duo had teased./



/Hilde had answered with a flirtatious wink. "I 

look very nice," she said sweetly, using a 

voice that told him butter wouldn't melt in her 

mouth./



Now if he tried she likely would burst into 

tears. 



He looked over at her, where she sat staring up 

at the green canopy of leaves. "Hilde, I've got 

to go contact Helena. She needs to relay a 

message to Sally for us- hopefully Sally can 

get here and get us the hell off this island. 

Do you want to go with me?"

 

She didn't answer. 



He sighed, and walked over to kiss her lips 

gently. "I'll be right back," he promised. 



Still no answer. 



He glanced back at her as he started to 

Deathscythe's hiding place. The Gundam was well 

hidden, and a patrol would have to practically 

sit down on top of it before they could find 

it. 



Duo crawled into the cockpit, wishing the way 

he'd laid his Gundam under the thick foliage 

hadn't placed the pilot's seat flat on its 

back. While coming out of space, it hadn't 

seemed such a difficulty. Then again, he'd been 

thinking of a far more urgent problem. 



Now, though, he had to lie down on the seat and 

stare at the new "ceiling" to engage the vid 

link. His fingers dialed from memory the code 

that would key to Helena's secure channel, and 

waited impatiently for her to answer. 



It took her about three minutes, which meant 

she had been close by and waiting for his call. 

Helena tended to be very active with school 

clubs and government, and was rarely anywhere 

near her room. He smiled at her half-heartedly. 

"Hey, Helena," he said. 



She blinked once or twice. "DUO!" she 

exclaimed. "I wasn't expecting you back for 

another few hours- the next window isn't till 

6, Greenwich. I checked." She was referring to 

the lag between the spy satellites the World 

Nation had established to police entry into the 

Earth's atmosphere. The original plan had been 

for them to wait for a window to open where the 

descent couldn't be monitored, but Hilde, in 

her Zero-induced haze, had ignored that. They 

had been lucky no one had noticed the two 

meteors that had fallen. 



He nodded slowly. "We ignored those. Something 

came up that made it imperative to just 

descend." 



"What?" she asked curiously. "Was one of the 

Gundams damaged?" 



His eyes shuttered, trying to conceal the pain. 

"I'd rather not discuss that on link. If you 

weren't waiting for me, who were you waiting 

for?" 



"General Po. Shinobu's doing some digging and 

claims that he'll have a fix on Yuy's location 

within the next forty eight hours." 



Duo blinked. "Let me get this straight. 

Shinobu, a school kid, has the resources to get 

the information just about everyone on and off 

planet is scrambling to find? Information 

that's worth a very large fortune? Isn't that a 

little unlikely?" 



"I tried to point that out to him, but he just 

pretended he couldn't understand what I was 

saying, which is crap. He understands just 

perfectly, but I can't call him on it. He's 

hiding something." 



Duo gave his braid a yank as he thought. 

Fidgeting was a good way to get rid of his 

nervous energy, and there really was very 

little room to move in the Gundam. It was one 

of the things he had hated most about being a 

pilot- the confinement. "Shit. That's exactly 

what I need- another complication." 



"Don't you trust him?" Helena asked hesitantly. 



He gave his braid another good tug. "I have to, 

don't I? He knows too much." 



Helena bit her lip as she nodded. "Um, you 

aren't going to like what else I have to tell 

you." 



Duo smiled at her, looking much older then his 

seventeen years. "Go ahead. I need to know the 

whole story." 



"Ilene is missing." 



"Did she go back to her family?" he wondered 

aloud, though he knew that was unlikely. 



"Checked there. Her father's filed a missing 

person report. Thinks she might have been 

kidnapped because she was friends with you." 

Duo groaned. Bad news always multiplied itself. 

On top of Hilde, another of his friends was in 

trouble. "Was there any sign of force?" 



"No. Duo...I don't think she was kidnapped. I 

think she left. She was angry with you. I've 

never seen her that angry before. I tried to 

talk to her, but she felt betrayed that Shinobu 

and I would help you. She wouldn't even listen 

to Chris, and nobody hates him!" 



"How is Chris?" 



"He's mad at me, but he claims he understands. 

He doesn't believe in war- he and his family 

are big believers in Queen Relena's absolute 

pacifism." 



"Helena, you don't have to help me anymore. I 

can contact Sally, and deal with Shinobu. If 

you want out, get out now." 



Her eyes burned intensely, and the vid almost 

conveyed the heat of them to him across 

thousands of miles. "Duo... I never back down. 

I believe in you, and what you're doing. Chris 

is just going to have to learn to accept that. 

If he can't, then obviously we're not meant to 

be." 



"I don't want to cause trouble..." 



"You'll learn that all couples have their 

disagreements. Just because they don't see eye 

to eye on everything doesn't mean they don't 

love each other." 



Her words echoed in his head, and he gave her 

the first sincere smile he had felt since Wing 

Zero had risen from its slumber. "Thanks, 

Helena," he said. 



"Anytime," she said. "I'll let General Po know 

you contacted me- can I have your coordinates?" 



He sent her them, then cut the transmission 

with a final farewell. Shutting his eyes, he 

took a deep breath, feeling it expand his 

lungs. He was lonely, and hearing Helena's 

voice made him realize how much he missed the 

company of others. Hilde had been very poor 

companionship lately. 



Duo Maxwell needed to have people around him, 

needed to know that people were watching. As 

long as there were others for him to entertain, 

he didn't have to think too much. Thinking was 

something that led to remembering, and his 

memories would send him into fits of 

depression. 



Finally he couldn't delay any longer. The 

cockpit was hot when the air conditioning 

wasn't on, and his clothes really weren't 

suited to the climate. He pulled himself out 

carefully, muttering as his braid got caught on 

the self-destruct unit. "It's finally decided 

it wants to destroy something after all," he 

muttered discontentedly, looking at his braid 

after retrieving it. Definitely more split 

ends. 



Hilde was just where he had left her, staring 

at the waves. "Hil?" he said quietly, hoping 

not to startle her. 



He wasn't expecting an answer, but he got one. 

"I once watched a movie. I don't remember what 

it was called, or what it was about. I was 

really young, maybe six. I just remember one 

scene from it. This girl was staring at the 

ocean after she'd lost her lover, and she 

looked so sad. She was wearing a really pretty 

dress, long and flowing. Then she stepped into 

the water and started to walk. She kept 

walking, ignoring the waves, but just going 

straight. Finally she was over her head, but 

she didn't stop. For some reason that image has 

stuck with me." 



"Hilde?" he whispered, feeling fear in his 

heart. If she was actively suicidal, there was 

nothing he could do. He couldn't be on alert 

24/7. If she wanted to kill herself, she would 

find a way. 



She remained calm, rising to her feet with 

ghostly grace. Her face looked entirely too 

pale against her dark hair. "I wish I could do 

that. I wonder how it would feel to have the 

water was wash away the pain, knowing that 

nothing will ever hurt again." 



He grabbed her waist, tucking her tightly 

against him. "Wait and ask Heero before you 

decide," he said. "Heero's died before." 



Her eyes turned to him, sparkling for the first 

time. "It's about Heero, then?" she asked 

softly. 



"It's always been about Heero," Duo answered. 







Scene II: Toy Soldiers 

*******************************************

"Asked myself what it's all for

You know the funny thing about it

I couldn't answer."

--Cowboy Bebop, Blue



There had been a mobile suit exercise planned 

for that day, but it rained the night before 

and when Dorothy woke up that morning, it was 

still raining. The downpour had lessened to a 

bearable drizzle, but the skies were gray and 

clouds smothered the horizon in oppressive 

silence. 



It rained all day and into the afternoon and 

into the evening. When nightfall came, it was 

still raining. If one could call it nightfall. 

The day had been one blur of wetness and dreary 

gray, and night was only a condensing of the 

two. 



Milliard was resting. He had had emergency 

surgery the night before, performed by the 

Preventers medic team. It wasn't bad, the head 

medic said. A mild concussion, two broken ribs 

and a broken arm. The mobile suit had suffered 

the most damage. Dorothy had dared to inspect 

the wreckage after it had been salvaged and 

brought back to camp. The entire cockpit was 

shattered, pieces of wire still smoldering from 

the blast which had ripped through the canopy, 

smashed the control panel, torn off the Taurus' 

right arm, and dropped beams of red-hot metal 

directly onto the pilot. 



It was a miracle, the medic said, that Milliard 

was still alive. 



Dorothy wasn't surprised. It was Milliard 

Peacecraft, not any ordinary man, after all, 

who had been piloting that mobile suit. Any 

ordinary man would probably not survived the 

night, but Milliard Peacecraft was different. 

He had always been different. A petty accident 

like that would never kill him, try though it 

might. He had been semi-conscious, but 

coherent, when he had been dragged out of the 

cockpit by Noin. 



Noin. 



For some reason, she was not surprised that 

Lucrezia Noin was still alive. Noin was like 

Milliard, in a way. In Dorothy's mind at least, 

Noin was a superhero, someone larger than life, 

someone who had battled with the devil and 

lived to tell about it. The familiar voice over 

the comm in the middle of battle had not been 

entirely unexpected, was not as much of a shock 

as it was a signal. For some reason, it had 

been more like a jolt back into a world from 

which she had been living, suspended in time 

and space, ever since the war had ended. 



She didn't like Noin. 



Noin had held Milliard's hand during the 

surgery, while Dorothy was made to stand 

outside the tent, in the rain, left asking a 

runner for details about Milliard's condition. 

Noin had simply taken over as vice commander. 

Without a word to Dorothy, she had moved 

herself into the command tent, taken the 

liberty of searching the files for all the 

private documents that Dorothy had spent hours 

scraping together from scanty information 

reports. In a few hours, Noin had earned the 

trust and loyalty of the troops to whom Dorothy 

had spent months proving herself. 



It wasn't fair. 



I think we're going to change the focus of this 

operation, Noin had said calmly to her this 

afternoon, biting the cap of a pen between her 

teeth and looking like she hadn't slept in 

weeks. Perhaps she hadn't. We're not looking at 

the correct targets here. 



Perhaps you should get some sleep first, 

Dorothy suggested delicately. I can handle 

things here. 



Noin's violet gaze was cool and composed and 

utterly superior. I was there. I know what's 

going on. Milliard trusts me. 



Those had been the key words. Milliard. 

Milliard trusts me. Milliard didn't trust 

Dorothy. Oh, no. Dorothy was the young 

apprentice, the prot�g�, the commander-in-

training. Dorothy couldn't handle a mobile suit 

if her life depended upon it. Dorothy was the 

rejected soldier, the spoiled heiress intruding 

into a world where she just didn't belong. 

Noin, on the other hand, apparently could do no 

wrong. 



There were certain kinds of people in the 

world, her grandfather had told her when she 

was young, who have always been good at 

everything, and are entirely oblivious to the 

fact. There are other kinds of people who have 

always been good at nothing, and know it too 

well. Dorothy was one of the latter. Noin and 

Milliard, they were the former. 



They belonged together. She could see it now. 

It made her angry. 



No, perhaps angry wasn't the word. Hurt, maybe. 

That she had thrown in so much of her time and 

energy to this mission, to have it taken away 

in one night by a woman who she had thought to 

be dead. By a woman who, by all rights, should 

have died in the war. Noin was a good soldier, 

but she had none of Dorothy's political pull, 

her charm, her money, her sheer amount of 

resources. 



So why was it that Noin always seemed to have 

the upper hand? What was she, Dorothy 

Catalonia, heir to the Dermail duchy and noble 

by birth and heritage, doing wrong? 

She had joined the operation because of 

Milliard. Because she was in love with him, or 

so she thought she was. She wasn't quite sure 

if that was the term for it, still, but here 

she was and there was no way in hell she was 

going to back out of this while Noin was here 

trying to usurp the rightful place Dorothy had 

worked so hard to earn. 



No way in hell. 



If she couldn't have Milliard, Dorothy 

reasoned, no one would. 



The entrance to the medical tent was closed, 

but when she tugged on it, it gave and she 

hesitantly crept through the opening. A single 

bare bulb burned in one corner and the lonely 

figure on the cot at the far end seemed to be 

asleep. Her boots crunched on the gravel and 

she felt like an intruder creeping towards a 

forbidden destination, her unwelcome presence 

breaking the peaceful silence. 



As she neared the side of the bed, the figure 

turned slightly. 



"Oh...Dorothy." 



Milliard sounded glad to see her, but she could 

tell that she wasn't the one he wanted to see. 

It was Noin that he had been waiting for, Noin 

that he wanted to talk to. Noin, Noin, Noin. 



"How are you feeling?" she said softly, 

swallowing her own jealousy. There was no point 

in bringing it up to him now. It wouldn't mend 

things between them, and their relationship was 

already strained as it was. 



"Better," he said. There were lines around his 

eyes and his face was haggard. He looked very 

old. A pause. "How are you?" 



She shrugged. "As always. I'm trying to keep 

things running, but-" 



"But?" he prodded, opening his eyes fully and 

looking at her through the thick curtain of 

golden bangs that had become forever entwined 

in her mind with memories of him. Even when he 

had cut his hair, the bangs remained. 



"Never mind," she said. 



He moved one arm out from under the covers. 

"Come on, Dorothy. Something's bothering you. I 

want to know." 



"No you don't," she said shortly. "It's all 

right." 



"Look, I want to listen. You're my second in 

command. I need you to be focused on the 

mission." 



"Oh, is that it?" she bit out. "Focused on the 

mission. That's all. I see." 



"Dorothy-" 



She flung her arms over her head in a dramatic 

gesture of despair. "Why do you bother talking 

to me? I know you don't think much of me 

anyway. You don't have to pretend, all right?" 



"I don't know what you're talking about, 

Dorothy." 



"Well," she spat, "maybe you should ask Noin!" 



There was a stunned silence. When he spoke, his 

voice was hard. "I don't see how Noin has 

anything to do with this." 



"Oh, you don't do you? Noin's your little 

prot�g�, isn't she? She can do no wrong. I know 

how you feel. Fine. Just spit it out to me. 

Don't lie to me. I'm sick of your lies, 

Milliard, sick of them!" 



He pushed himself up on the bed. He was angry. 

He didn't have the angry look in his face, but 

she could tell. Beneath the bandages on his 

chest, his heart was beating fast. "When have I 

ever lied to you? Dorothy, I gave you this 

opportunity. I chose you to come with me." 



"And that makes me special, I suppose," she 

sneered. "To be picked by you. I suppose I 

should grovel at your feet and worship you 

because out of the billions of people on this 

God-forsaken earth, you chose me to come with 

you!" 



"You were the one who accepted!" 



"Well, I was wrong, all right? Maybe I expected 

more out of this. Maybe I didn't expect to come 

on this operation and be treated like a second 

class enlisted member who can't even tie her 

own shoe. I'm an officer. I'm your second in 

command. I expect to be treated according to my 

rank. That's what I deserve." 



"I've never treated you-" 



Her hands twitched and she barely refrained 

from bringing up one hand and slapping him in 

the face, hearing that satisfying smack. "Oh, 

lie to me some more, Milliard. That's right. 

Lie to me! Lie to me as you sit here and try to 

convince me that I mean something while your 

little bitch Lucrezia Noin is fucking taking 

away everything that meant anything to me 

here!" 



There was a horrible feeling bubbling up in her 

stomach as the words tumbled out of her mouth, 

but it was too late now to take them back, and 

as she saw the hurt in his eyes, she realized 

she had wounded him deeper than she had ever 

wanted to. 



He didn't speak. 



She curled her sweating palms to the side of 

her pants, rubbing them up and down the 

scratchy material. For one brief, insane 

moment, she envisioned her silk evening gown 

and silk gloves, imagined bringing one gloved 

hand down to her side and touching the gleaming 

material with one long finger. And then the 

image vanished and Milliard's eyes were staring 

at her, expressionless now. 



"I wanted to fix things, Dorothy," he said. "I 

really did." 



"Milliard-" she began desperately, hoping in 

some way to beg his forgiveness, but his sharp 

voice cut into her plea like a sword. 



"I'm sorry," he said. "I believe our time 

together is over." 



His voice was cold. Final. 



"Milliard," she said, her voice cracking. 



"Milliard I didn't-" 



"Get out." 



"Milliard-" 



"Get OUT!" he roared, lunging out of the bed at 

her, and she could see the burning fury in his 

features now. She stared at him, fear trickling 

down her spine. She had never seen him angry 

before. This was not Milliard Peacecraft. 



This was Zechs Merquise. 



"Fine," she said quietly, backing away from the 

cot, putting a safe distance between him and 

her. Trying to keep her voice from quavering. 

"Fine. I'm leaving. I'm going to the nearest 

town. I'm taking the next transport for Earth. 

And I'm not coming back." 



She didn't wait for his reply. She didn't want 

to. The air was cold and wet and she half ran, 

half stumbled out of the tent, not watching 

where she was going, not caring. She was 

crying, she realized. Dorothy Catalonia did not 

cry. She was not a weakling. Lucrezia Noin 

cried. Relena Peacecraft cried. She was 

stronger than then, better than them. 



She had been stupid. She hadn't wanted to say 

that. She didn't like Noin, but there was a 

certain line of propriety that she had always 

been careful never to cross...but today somehow 

she had. And it had cost her a career. 



A career, and a friend. 



The look on Milliard's face, the completely 

horrified expression of disbelief and shame, of 

utter betrayal, loomed in her mind like the 

haunting figure of a ghost, his eyes burning 

into her. 



I'm sorry. I believe our time together is over. 



How could he say that, after-? After all they'd 

been through together? How could he simply 

desert her for Noin? In the blink of an eye. 

Dorothy Catalonia was not a woman. She was just 

a silly girl, irresponsible, easily 

replaceable.

 

She was just a toy soldier. 



The wind picked up, blowing her hair into her 

eyes and she stumbled, fell, tripping over a 

loose rock. There was a flash of pain as her 

knee hit the ground but she didn't care, laying 

where she had fallen, staring up at the sky. 



"It's going to rain," she whispered. The tears 

ran from the corner of her eyes down to the 

insides of her ears. She could feel the heat 

stream down her cheeks, hear the quiet ticks of 

water drip to the already wet ground. 



She could take a mobile suit. Right now. Right 

there. Milliard would never know. She could 

leave the camp, go to the nearest town and hide 

the mobile suit, buy a shuttle ticket, and be 

home in a day. It was that simple. That easy. 

It was that hard. 





Scene III: Always Two Steps Behind 

*******************************************

"Sometimes, I feel the fear of uncertainty 

stinging clear

And I can't help but ask myself

How much I'll let the fear take the wheel and 

steer

It's driven me before, and it seems to have a 

vague

Haunting mass appeal."

--Incubus, Drive

*******************************************



Fatima bint Narish. 



She was a woman whom Une had never liked. To 

put it frankly, Une considered her a world-

class bitch. She knew that Fatima shared a 

similar opinion of her, but it really didn't 

concern her. 



The two women -both among the most powerful 

people in the world- had met before, and it was 

a case of instant dislike. Both recognized that 

the other was a force to be reckoned with, and 

had declared an unspoken truce. Neither messed 

with the other, and life went on, just peachy 

dandy. 



Until now. 



Fatima had crossed that unseen line and 

ventured onto Une's turf, and Une would be 

damned if she was going to let her get away 

with it. Heads would roll, blood would be 

spilt, but whatever it took, Une fully intended 

on reminding Fatima -and everyone else- exactly 

what it was a bad idea to cross the woman who 

had been Treize's second in command. 



She had selected Carrington to lean on the 

World Nation for one simple reason: she was a 

ball-breaker with the tenacity of a pit bull. 

Carrington was a career officer, and knew her 

stuff. Still, she had the brusque manner of one 

who had clawed her way up through sheer 

efficiency, one who saw little point in the 

niceties that most people took for granted. If 

she hadn't been so damn good at what she did, 

she never would have earned her commission. 



Une sighed as she prepared to call her. 



Carrington wasn't a pleasant person to deal 

with on a good day, and Une certainly wasn't 

having one of those. The screen flicked on, and 

Une was treated to the sight of a woman in her 

mid-forties glaring back at her. "This had 

better be- oh, it's you." 



Not many people would dare take such an 

exasperated tone with their superiors; fewer 

still were the ones who would take it with 

General Une. Carrington, though, didn't give it 

a second thought. Everything about her said 

that she didn't give a damn what others 

thought. Her hair looked like it had been 

hacked at randomly with a pair of scissors, her 

uniform had seen better days, and she'd tell 

you exactly what she thought of the situation. 

Her forthright manner was refreshing in a way. 

Une always appreciated it AFTER she was done 

dealing with her. 



"Yes, Carrington. I need to know how you're 

doing on the Winner situation." 



Carrington gave her a glare. "I'm on it. The 

answer hasn't changed since I submitted my 

report ten minutes ago." 



Une shut her eyes, feeling like she was dealing 

with a bratty three year old. "Carrington, this 

is a bureaucracy. I'm not going to see your 

report for another two hours- it has to go 

through channels." 



Carrington sighed. "Quite simply, Winner's 

arrest was illegal. His people should be able 

to spring him in a few hours- then WE arrest 

him. The World Nation doesn't have the 

authority to arrest people, but we do. I've 

selected some people who I think you should 

send- it's General Po's call, but the names are 

on your list. You could override her if it 

comes down to it." 



"The last thing I need to do right now is 

alienate Sally by stepping on her toes. If you 

chose the right people -I'm sure you did- 

she'll most likely okay it as long as they 

aren't on assignment somewhere vital." 



Carrington nodded. "I also included my own take 

on the situation. I know it wasn't asked for, 

but I think it might be useful to you." 



"Oh?" 



"Winner's crimes, if they were crimes, took 

place before the founding of the World Nation. 

According to international law, he can't be 

found guilty under the Constitution, since it 

didn't exist when he destroyed those colonies. 

The only ones who MIGHT have the jurisdiction 

to prosecute is the L4 colony cluster, and we 

both know that the boy practically owns them. 

It'll be a lengthy legal process, but he should 

get away clean. No one is going to be able to 

make any of the charges stick." 



Une's smile lit her tired face. "Carrington, I 

could kiss you. That's the first bit of good 

news I've had in ages. Did you run that by our 

lawyers, see if they agreed?" 



"Ran it past Dallas, and he pretty much 

concurred. Thing is, bint Narish has to know 

that, too. She has her own legal experts. What 

I can't figure out is why she's doing this." 



"I can," Une said darkly, her good mood 

destroyed. She hated politics. "Keep on the 

case, Carrington, until I tell you otherwise." 



"Yes. ma'am." The vid screen flicked off. 

Une rolled her eyes. Carrington had been 

remarkably polite, for Carrington. 



"She's stalling," she murmured to the empty 

room, then walked towards her private washroom 

to get a drink. She hadn't been eating well, 

and had taken her belt in a notch. With a sigh 

she turned off the lights, fumbling around in 

the darkness. She didn't want to see herself in 

the mirror; she was positive she looked like a 

wreck, and certainly nowhere near the image of 

competency she wanted to project. 



She splashed water onto her face, then 

retreated back to her office, trying to plan 

her next step. Quatre is out of my hands at the 

moment, she thought. I need to concentrate on 

the other pilots, see what I can do for them. 



She keyed up Li's latest report on screen and 

frowned. There had been no signs of either Yuy 

or Chang, and Maxwell had practically vanished 

into thin air. Catherine had no clue where 

Barton had gone to, though Li reported there 

had been periodic sightings of the enigmatic 

young man across Europe, Asia, and the northern 

most parts of Africa. Trowa was either on the 

run or planning something, and Une was willing 

to wager that it was the second. 



She bit her lip, wondering how the hell they 

all managed to hide so well. Surely by now they 

would have slipped up! The rewards offered for 

information on their whereabouts were 

fantastic, and the entire world was looking for 

them! Tabloids, serious news sources, 

governments, vigilantes- everyone wanted their 

piece. Too bad there wasn't enough to go 

around. 



Her screen flashed, beeping to signal that 

there was an incoming message. "Yes?" she 

asked. 



Gils-Reve sounded slightly shaken. "Incoming 

transmission from A007. It's Major Noin." 



She was on her feet in an instant, slamming her 

hands onto the flat surface of her desk. 



"WHAT?" 



"Major Noin," Gils-Reve said. He looked 

stunned. "General, I-" 



"I thought she was dead," Une whispered, not 

knowing whether she should laugh or cry, trying 

as best as she could to keep the warring 

emotions from her face. "I thought-" 



Gils-Reve's expression was troubled, and his 

voice was hesitant when he spoke. "Should I-" 



"Patch it through!" she ordered, clasping her 

hands together to keep them from shaking. Gils-

Reve's face disappeared, leaving a blank screen 

and a blinking status bar that took entirely 

too long to load. 



A flicker, and a familiar face. The first thing 

that flashed through Une's mind was that Noin 

had lost weight. Her hair was a touch too long, 

and her uniform had seen better days, but aside 

from that, she looked exactly as Une had 

remembered her, aside from faint lines around 

her eyes. "Major Lucrezia Noin reports." 



Une swallowed, unable to speak for a moment, 

feeling a wave of dizzy relief pass over her, 

then leaned towards the screen, unable to keep 

the tension from her voice. "Noin, can the 

formalities. Where in blazes have you been?" 



Noin actually managed to smile. "Sorry to make 

you worry. I'm fine." 



"FINE? Radio communication cut off for months, 

and you're FINE?" 



"I was captured by the A007 military in a 

raid...my fault, really." Noin shrugged. 

"Doesn't really matter now. Dorothy told me 

that everyone assumed I was dead; I'm rather 

surprised, since I thought Commander Morgan 

would have tried to use me as a bargaining 

chip." 



"Commander Morgan?" 



"My kind...host while I was in captivity." 

Noin's voice was bitter. 



Une's eyes widened. "My Lord, Noin, are you all 

right? Did they..." she couldn't bring herself 

to say the words. 



Noin shook her head. "As I said, I'm fine. He 

threatened torture, but as I thought, didn't 

have the guts to actually carry it out." She 

snorted. "Spineless, all of them." 



Despite her brave words, Une didn't have to be 

a mindreader to pick up the uneasiness in 

Noin's voice when she spoke of Morgan, or her 

captivity on A007. Even if anything had 

happened, Noin wouldn't tell her. She was a 

fighter, like all of them, but fighting was the 

last thing that would help her right now. 

"Noin, if anything happened to you, I need to 

know." 



"Nothing happened." Noin smiled. Her eyes were 

honest. "Seriously. They didn't do anything to 

me. The base, or whatever it was, apparently 

wasn't equipped with anything remotely 

resembling a cell, so they stuck me in some 

guest room. It wasn't bad. I had my privacy." 



'If you say so," Une said, still unconvinced, 

but it didn't matter right now. "I'm...I'm glad 

to see you, Noin." 



"I am too," Noin said. Her smile broadened, and 

she looked surprised. "Damn. That's the first 

time I've smiled in...ages." 



"How's your situation? I'm assuming you're 

reporting for Milliard as well?" 



A nod. "We're a bit on the low morale side, but 

everything seems all right so far. Zec-Milliard 

was injured in the last battle-" 



"INJURED?" 



"Relax," Noin soothed. "He's all right. A few 

broken ribs, but he's doing better. I'm 

handling a lot of the work right now while he 

recovers, but according to the medic, he'll be 

out of bed in a few more days." She laughed. 

"I'm hoping they're right." 



Une shook her head, trying to sort out 

strategies in her head, discarding one after 

the other. "I need to know...no, what I really 

need to know is, how far are we from capturing 

their main base? Or, how far are they from 

catching up to you?" 



Noin didn't respond for a few seconds, 

thinking. "I believe...we're at a stalemate. 

You know we have some of their mobile suits, 

but capturing a few mobile suits doesn't mean 

that they've stopped producing them. I think 

there have been some new factories set up that 

our light map doesn't show." 



"So...?" Une prodded. 



"I don't think either of us is winning. I don't 

know what's going on. Zechs - Milliard - would 

be the one you need to ask, but he can't come 

to the vid right now, obviously." 



"Can I ask you an opinion on something?" 



"Sure," Noin said. She looked wary. 



Une chewed her lip, trying to think of how to 

phrase the question. "Do you think...what do 

you think the A007 military is trying to get 

out of this?" 



"Good question. I don't know. I was hoping you 

might." 



Une heaved a sigh. "If our presence there is 

going to complicate things, I'd rather we just 

pull out. I don't know why the A007 military is 

acting the way it is, but it looks like we're 

not going to get any more information than we 

already have, and-" 



"There's someone I'd like you to meet," Noin 

said suddenly, and before Une could ask her 

what was so important as to interrupt her 

sentence, Noin's face was gone and a man's face 

appeared in front of her, older, serious, very 

familiar. 



"I know you!" she gasped. "You're-" 



The man bowed slightly. "Dermand Etille, at 

your service. I was fortunate enough to have 

escaped from the A007 base with Major Noin. I'm 

glad to see that you Preventers have not 

neglected the old OZ training." 



"Thank...you," she said warily. Dermand Etille 

had been one of the famous names at the 

Academy, one of the people every cadet was 

required to hear about in the boring lectures 

given by the professor of military history. It 

was a good thing she had paid attention in 

class. 



"I heard you asking Noin about the motives of 

the A007 military. I believe though I can't 

answer that question, at least I can speculate, 

being a former member of that military." 



Une blinked. "Really," she managed. 



He nodded solemnly. "Really. I don't know what 

their goals are, but I am of the opinion that 

the A007 military uprising is not a single, 

isolated cause." 



"Meaning," Une said carefully, "that someone 

provoked them?" 



"Or that someone or something larger is behind 

them. People like Commander Morgan are young, 

idealistic officers. Fortunately or 

unfortunately, people like him are all that the 

A007 military has got at the top of their chain 

of command." 



"So you're thinking that they're being 

influenced...bribed?" 



"They might be. Again, I have no proof." 



"What did you used to-" she began, but Etille 

cut her off. 



"The floor is Major Noin's. I thank you for 

listening." And he was gone. 



"Damn," she swore, and Noin's face was 

apologetic. 



"That's all I could get out of him too. I don't 

think he wants to talk about what he used to 

do." 



Une sighed. "I can't say I can let it go, but I 

can say I know how it feels. If I had a little 

more information, I could probably do a lot 

more for you over there. Unfortunately, our 

resources are stretched woefully thin, and then 

there's the pilot situation." 



"Zechs told me," Noin said. "About that 

newspaper reporter." 



Une nodded. "It's getting steadily worse. 

Quatre's been arrested." 



"WHAT?" Noin demanded. "When?" 



"About a day or so ago. Long story, but the 

short version is, he's probably going to be 

tried. It's bad, Noin, it's bad. Duo's gone 

missing as well...you know that he was at that 

school in the US. Cliffside? There was a 

riot..." 



"He wasn't injured, was he?" Noin sounded 

alarmed. 



"He's fine, but gone from Cliffside. Left that 

day right after the riots, I believe." 



"He's probably hiding." 



"Most likely. I have no clue where the rest of 

them are. Disappeared off the face of the 

earth." 



"I go away for a month and it all goes to 

hell," Noin murmured. "Well, the best I can 

tell you is that we're trying our best over 

here...but in all honesty, I don't think we're 

going to be able to do much good." 



"When you think you've done enough," Une said, 

"I'll pull you out of there. Just give me the 

word. I'm about to give the World Nation the 

finger on this matter and tell them to go screw 

themselves." She snorted at the surprised look 

Noin gave her at her crude language. "It's 

ridiculous to waste our resources on a 

backwater colony revolt when there are more 

pressing matters we need to deal with here." 



"But what if Etille-" 



"Even if he's right," Une said firmly, "I can't 

afford to be jumping at shadows. There's no 

time, Noin. You can understand that, right?" 

Noin nodded and there was sympathy in her eyes. 

"I'm sorry. I'd give anything to be there, to 

be helping you and the pilots..." 



"I know. As I said, I'll pull you out of there 

if it gets any worse." 



"Thanks," Noin said. "I have to go...there's 

work waiting." 



"I'm glad to see you again," Une said, trying 

to smile. It was hard. "Give my regards to 

Milliard and Dorothy." 



Noin nodded, saluting, then flickered off the 

screen. The room was silent, the hum of the air 

conditioning kicking in with a loud bang 

through the walls. 



"Oh, it's gone to hell, Noin," she said, 

leaning back in her chair and trying to stretch 

tired muscles. She need another cup of coffee. 

She needed more headache medicine. She needed 

the world to go away and let her enjoy a long, 

deserved rest. "It's gone to hell...the problem 

is now figuring how we can get it back." 







Scene IV: Lament for Innocence Lost 

*******************************************

"Don't ask no questions, it goes on without 

you,

Leaving you behind if you can't stand the pace.

The world keeps on spinning;

You can't stop it, if you try to."

--Des'ree, You Gotta Be

*******************************************



Atsuki had forgotten what life with the family 

had been like. 



Or perhaps she hadn't let herself remember. 

Everywhere there was splendor and the 

understated elegance that practically screamed 

MONEY! to her street-wise eyes. Carpets that 

would have kept her fed in the Breaks for 

months had she pawned them to the right person, 

priceless paintings that would have most of her 

old crowd drooling at the sight of them, rare, 

custom-made furniture found nowhere else in the 

world or the colonies. Even the bottle of 

shampoo she was using cost over ten thousand 

yen. She tried hard not to think of the girls 

she had left behind, knowing that, more likely 

then not, they would all be dead within a few 

years. 



Life expectancy for a prostitute in the Breaks 

was short. Though all of them were careful as 

they could be, there was a limit to how careful 

a whore could be and still make enough money to 

survive. So they took risks. They had to. And a 

girl would almost invariably slip up and a perv 

would beat her to death, or do something even 

worse to get off. Atsuki had seen what had been 

left after one such incident. She had thought 

herself hardened to the reality of life, but 

the very memory still turned her stomach. 



Still, she was free. She realized now how 

foolish she had been to turn away from her 

family, especially after seeing Jaffa's 

heartfelt relief. But that was because Jaffa 

thought she was getting her sister Lilah back. 



Atsuki almost felt sorry for her. Lilah was 

dead, as dead as the autumn leaves. All that 

was left was a broken woman, a woman who didn't 

believe in happily-ever-afters. 



No, she was lying to herself. Somewhere, deep 

inside, she must have stilled harbored the 

faint hope for a happily ever after. Jaffa was 

right; there always was hope. At least, for 

those with money. 



She looked at the clothes the servant had laid 

out for her. None of the clothes she had left 

behind would have fit anymore, and one of the 

Winner Women wasn't about to be seen wearing 

the grubby outfit of a street prostitute. The 

clothes she had arrived with had been whisked 

away, probably to the nearest dumpster. Since 

the Maguanac compound, despite being stocked 

with many of Quatre's belongings, didn't have a 

large selection of woman's clothing, Reeshya 

was loaning her some. 



Reeshya was a good four inches taller then she, 

and more curvaceous to boot. The long dress 

didn't fit right, and the shawl was awkward. 

When she had been Lilah, she had rarely worn 

the more traditional Arabian garments some of 

the sisters, like Reeshya, favored. It was hard 

to remember how everything should hang, and 

she'd found the veils too annoying to bother 

with. Part of her felt like making adjustments, 

but she couldn't do that to her sister's 

clothes. 



The fine silk caught on her rough hands as she 

slipped it over her emaciated frame. She had to 

tie a scarf around her waist to take in some of 

the slack and keep it from dragging on the 

floor. 



She heard laughter from behind her, and spun 

around. She didn't like having anyone at her 

back; like a war veteran, she wanted to keep 

her eyes focused on what was going on around 

her. 



The again, she WAS a war veteran. She had 

survived the Breaks. 



Reeshya walked in, wearing similar clothing in 

a deep maroon. She looked graceful and every 

inch the lady, something that made Atsuki want 

to cringe. 



"Neesan!" she said joyfully, and all of the 

sudden Atsuki found her arms full, her younger 

sister clinging to her like a little leech. "I 

missed you so much!" 



"I'm sure," Atsuki said, uncomfortable. Scorn 

she would have been able to handle, but she 

wasn't sure how to deal with affection. 



Reeshya looked at her, eyes narrowed. "Who are 

you?" she whispered. 



"What?" 



"You're not Lilah," Reeshya said. The Arabian 

woman picked up her older sister's hand and 

entwined their fingers together. "You don't 

feel right." 



It came to Atsuki then. It was another thing 

she had forgotten, the kokoro no uchuu. Only a 

few of the Winners had it, and she hadn't been 

one. The second sight, some would have called 

it. Knowing the heart of others, feeling their 

pain and happiness with them. Reeshya had it, 

apparently. She hadn't remembered. "I thought 

only Quatre, Talat and Qamar had the family 

legacy." 



Reeshya's dark eyes locked on her older 

sister's. "They are the strongest, but about 

half of us have it to some extent. Don't skirt 

the issue, though. You don't feel like Lilah." 



Atsuki winced. "That's because I'm not her. 

Only the shell remains." 



Reeshya's fingers tightened, and Atsuki was 

surprised at how warm they had gotten. "What 

are you talking about?" 



She hadn't told Jaffa. She had intended on not 

bringing up the past. She could lie to Jaffa, 

she could lie to herself, but she couldn't lie 

to Reeshya, for Reeshya would know she was 

lying. "My name is Atsuki." 



"Atsuki? That's Japanese!" Reeshya said, 

sounding offended. The Winners had always been 

proud of their Arabian origins. 



"So? I lived in the Breaks. Having a Japanese 

name was safer." 



Reeshya paled. "The Breaks? What the Hell were 

you doing there?" 



"Making a living." 



Reeshya jerked away as though burned. Empaths 

were touch-sensitive, and the rolling waves of 

emotions her older sister was projecting made 

her feel sick to her stomach. "What did you do 

that was so horrible that it makes you hate 

yourself so much?" 



She was so innocent, Atsuki realized. Reeshya, 

Jaffa, her sisters...they were all so innocent 

still. Even if they lived for a thousand years, 

even if they lived forever, none of them would 

ever experience the aching rawness, the 

harshness of life that she had lived while in 

the Breaks. 



This - these clothes, these riches, this house, 

these lands - this was not life. This was 

merely a glittering reflection, an illusion, a 

play-stage on which those who believed in their 

innate superiority acted out their little 

fantasies, living and dying without even once 

experiencing reality. 



She had been like that once. 



For a moment she considered sparing Reeshya the 

harsh details, but if she couldn't tell her 

sisters, then who could she tell? "The question 

is, what DIDN'T I do?" Her lip twisted as she 

spoke her next words. "I was a whore. I slept 

with men -and a few women, for that matter- for 

money. I did drugs, I dealt them, and I even 

was a go-between for some of the assassins in 

Bourei no Basho. The only think I didn't do was 

kill anyone, and that was because I was too 

weak." She ignored the shocked look on her 

sister's face, pushing on relentlessly. "I'm 

not the sister you remember, Reeshya. I'm a 

slut and a junkie and I'll offer my services to 

the highest bidder. Can you handle that?" 



"Neesan..." 



Reeshya's voice was soft, sad, and for some 

reason that made her feel even angrier. 

Sympathy was one of the things she hated most. 

"Why am I even telling you this? You have no 

idea what my life was like!" 



"Why don't you tell me?" 



"Because you'd never understand." 



Reeshya blinked and pressed her hands against 

her heart. "It hurts..." she whispered. Then 

she shook her head. "I'm sorry...Quatre is on 

the vid. He's talking to Jaffa right now, but 

if you hurry, you can at least say hello." 



Atsuki nodded, and followed Reeshya out of the 

room. The conversation was over...for now. 



Reeshya led her through a winding labyrinth of 

corridors, and all too soon she found herself 

outside of an office. "Go on in. I'll wait for 

you out here." 



Jaffa was seated in one of the stuffed chairs 

behind a desk, listening to the young blonde 

man who was speaking on the vid. Atsuki walked 

forward, almost in a trance. 



"Quatre?" she said, looking at him, and feeling 

her heart break. She had missed seven years of 

his life, seven years during which time had 

made him into a man. His eyes didn't shine with 

the same innocence anymore, but then again, 

neither did hers. Time was cruel. 



He blinked once, and she could see he 

recognized her on sight, something that Jaffa, 

the sister who kept track of them all, hadn't 

been able to do. "Lilah?" he said, his face 

shocked. "You're.... alive?" His voice was full 

of disbelief, but then a smile dawned on his 

face that made her feel amazingly guilty. "It's 

so good to see you," he said, and she could 

practically feel the goodwill he was 

broadcasting. 



Not that she could. She wasn't one of the 

family with the extra sense. She used to be 

desperately jealous, but ever since becoming 

Atsuki, she had been glad of it. She would have 

committed suicide a hundred times over had she 

been able to feel the misery of the Breaks' 

residents. "I came back," she said, feeling the 

tears start in her eyes again. She'd spent so 

much time crying that she was amazed that her 

eyes hadn't dried to dust. "I came back," she 

whispered, remembering a late evening 

conversation so long ago, when both of them 

were innocent. 



"Neechan...." he whispered. "You came back. I 

knew you would, I guess," he said, smiling. 

"Are you okay?" 



It would have been easy to shrug him off with 

the 'I'm fine' most people would have expected. 

It was what people said after a long time 

apart. But she had had too much of lies- she 

wouldn't lie anymore. Not to him, not to 

herself. "No. But I think I will be." 



His smile showed that he understood, that he 

was grateful for her honesty. "I can't talk to 

you for long, Lilah. I need to talk to Yaminah 

about my defense." He lowered his eyes, and she 

was struck by how much they looked alike. 

Looking at Quatre was like seeing how she would 

have been, had she been born male. 



"It's okay," she reassured him. "It's just- 

nice to talk to you. I missed you." 



She was surprised that that was the truth. Of 

all her family, he was the one she had missed 

most, the only one she had let herself worry 

about. She had always wondered if he would be 

able to escape their father's tyranny. Quatre 

had been the perfect son, and she had never 

been able to imagine him finding it within 

himself to rebel. 



And yet he, her own little brother, had become 

a Gundam pilot. 



Yet another case of her lousy perception of 

people. If Quatre, one of those she knew best, 

had it within him to do something so 

drastically different then her pre-conceived 

notion of him, then who else had she misjudged? 



She watched him kiss the fingertips of his 

right hand and press them to the screen. 

Without a thought, she echoed his movements, 

remembering how their father had done the same 

when they had been younger. "I can't be with 

you right now, my children, but here's a kiss 

you can keep until I see you again." Their 

father hadn't been a bad man; just controlling. 

They had loved him. 



Yaminah gently touched her shoulder. "I need to 

talk to him now, love," she said. 



Atsuki nodded and rose to her feet, leaving the 

room without a backward glance.



END ACT SIX, PART ONE


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