by Ruth
In AC 195, the rebel leader Zechs Merquise had wanted to change the world. He did. The crashing Libra was blown into infinite pieces that produced a devastating meteor storm of molten metal and cinders, shattering the world from what it had been into a devastated wasteland. The leader of the White Fang took little of the blame for the battered survivors found other scapegoats.
Horrified by the devastation, Queen Relena Peacecraft had insisted on returning to Earth. Heero insisted on protecting her. The other pilots came to protect /him/. They walked straight into a revolution. The six were imprisoned, brought to trial and convicted by the then-ruling junta weeks before it would be overthrown by another.
The Maganacs that served the Winner family attacked the prison. The pilots fought their way to the courtyard to stand helpless as the guillotine dropped. All life drained from Heero Yuy's face as his anchor to the world died, then the alarm sounded and the young men who had helped to change the world were forced to scatter for their lives and disappear.
The year was After Colony 200, after five years of chaos and indecision, Baron Dekim Barton once more set out to conquer the Earth sphere. He failed to take into account that the Gundam pilots were still alive. Aided by the embittered Zechs Merquise and the teenager known only as 01, Barton sought to hide his conquest under the guise of a mission to "save" the Earth.
01 claimed his heritage as a Gundam pilot. Zechs Merquise went insane from visions programmed within Epyon. Barton, surrounded by inexperienced troops, without a proper commander, lost his gambit and his life.
The year is After Colony 200: Earth and the Colonies stand once more poised on the brink of alliance - thanks again to the Gundams and the young men who piloted them.
"Wufei's bringing back Moro!" called Quatre. There was a stampede down the stairs of the loaned townhouse as Neko, Azrael and Peribanu came running. Trowa followed with an amused expression on his face. In the living room, Duo groaned and tried to bury his head deeper in the pillows.
It had been a long week. The disruption of the Eurasian Conference by Barton and his attempted conquest had required a lot of explaining. Lady Une proved to be an able spokesperson. What had begun as a Eurasian Conference quickly turned into a World-Wide Conference as members of the African Confederation, the South American League and the North American Alliance came as quickly as they could. The four Gundam pilots found themselves in a confusing position.
"They're grateful we saved them. They just want some reassurances that we're not going to turn around and conquer them," had been Trowa's dry assessment.
"Who wants this crummy planet?" Duo snapped.
"What makes you think Barton cared about the planet?" Quatre shot back. "All he wanted was power."
"Don't need that, either," Duo stuffed his hands in his pockets, walking away. He'd taken to wandering the streets until very late at night. He was avoiding Hilde and Azrael.
Azrael kept saying he didn't care, but his whole posture would droop every time Duo blew him off and fled. Quatre had been doing a lot of negotiating to keep Trowa from getting into the conflict. Trowa had taken to getting out of the city and exploring the countryside with Ichiro.
Ichiro was overwhelmed. There was so much he'd never seen or smelled or heard or tasted or done that he was in constant need of reassurence.
"He can take apart and assemble a gun even faster than you can," Quatre marveled to Trowa, "but he's never seen a dandelion or a fountain or a statue."
"Doctor J was a menace," Trowa growled. "I hope he really is dead."
Moro was still weak from her hospital stay. Wufei cradled his daughter in his arms.
"She's beautiful, isn't she?" he said with a surprisingly soft and loving look on his face.
The phone rang. Duo growled, then answered. "They want us for one last speech at the Conference," he reported. "Hey, Cat, your sister just showed up with the Mid-Eastern whatever-you-call-‘ems."
"Iria," Quatre's jaw set into a stubborn line.
It was fireworks, not meteors or missiles or mobile suits that exploded over the valley. Most of the homes were in a state of semi-repair, but a large tent city had been assembled by the people who were throwing the party. In the village square stood five giant mobile suits, now at rest from their latest battle.
"White Valley shows potential as an investment for Winner Enterprises, particularly with its production of grain alcohol fuel," Quatre had argued. "With refineries mostly destroyed and many oil supplies contaminated from the meteor shower, grain alcohol is the wave of the future."
"You see," argued Iria. "That's why you have to come back. I can't handle these decisions alone."
"You've got twenty-seven sisters to help you," Quatre shot back. He felt a twinge of guilt about Charis, but her death had been avenged. "Besides," he added, looking up over her left shoulder into the eyes of Kamal Kurama, Rashid's second son, who was now leading the Maganac Corps after Habib's betrayal and overthrow. Kamal was as tall as his father, with a ferociously black beard. "I don't think you're going to be alone all /that/ long." Kamal grinned at him as Iria sputtered and blushed.
"I can't stand it!" He blurted to Trowa later. "Iria wants me to run the company. The World-Wide Conference was trying to make me a Representative for the Colonial Congress. I still have Uncle Omar's position and L 4 keeps emailing me about that! Why do I have to be in charge?"
"Because you wear responsibility well," Trowa rubbed his shoulders.
"Well, I'm damn sick of responsibility!"
Chang Wufei looked on Moro as she nursed his daughter on the porch of one of the few remaining houses. She was still pale from her ordeal.
"I'm sorry she's not the son you wanted," said Moro. "Especially now that I can't have any more."
"She's more than enough," Wufei touched the back of the baby's head, already covered with black down. "Ji-Fei. My little princess."
"You must talk to Sally Po."
"She doesn't want to talk to me," Wufei sat down next to her. "Moro, I . . . ."
Moro shook her head. "If you knew, you would have gone to her. That is all there is to be said."
"Stupid woman."
"Stubborn man."
He kissed her. "I do love you."
"Duo?" Quatre caught up to the grim-faced pilot. "Where are you going?" "Any place I can get a flight out," Duo shrugged, shouldering a small pack. "Look, it's been a crazy ride. I'm sorry for what I did, but," he looked away. "Nothing for me here."
"Is there something for you out there?" Quatre asked.
"I dunno," Duo admitted, "but it's as close to home as I can get."
Quatre looked over Duo's shoulder. "Good luck."
Duo turned around. Hilde Schbeiker's ornate uniform was battered and torn and she had a band-aid across her nose. She also had a mean right cross. Duo landed on the ground. The pack fell from his shoulder. His mouth dropped open. "H-H-Hilde?"
"You're not going anywhere without me you bastard, so get used to it!" she snapped. "You may have been able to hide from me in Rome but you're not hiding any more!"
"Baby," Duo's chest heaved. "You can't mean that." He pushed himself up to his knees. She dropped and wrapped her arms around him. He buried his head into her shoulder. "Oh, God, I have so messed up my life. I don't deserve to be a part of yours, I don't."
"Shh, I haven't been on the side of the angels either," Hilde rocked him. "But I still love you."
"Hilde - Hilde."
Quatre slipped away to join two watchers. Azrael folded his arms and scowled, looking more like his father than ever. Trowa's face was strictly neutral. Quatre slipped an arm around both of them.
"Give it time," he said. "Let her heal him. He'll be back."
Ichiro was sitting staring at the dancers, trying to make sense of it all. It was making his headache. He closed his eyes.
As soon as he did, he knew she was there.
"Marimaia?" he turned.
"Ichiro," she said, coming to stand next to him.
He looked away. He didn't know what to say to her.
"Come dance with me," she held out her hands.
"I-I don't know how." "I'll teach you."
"Gone!" shrieked Iria. "What do you mean gone?"
"I mean they aren't in White Valley any more," rumbled Kamal. Faisel nodded enthusiastically.
"He can't have gone! Where would he go?"
"Master Quatre has been offered a great many things, Lady Iria," Faisel explained. "Perhaps too many things at once; all of them require him to do and give much of himself for other people. Right now, he has fought a great battle and he wants to do something for himself. Let him heal, Lady, he will be back."
Quatre tucked the blanket around Peribanu. She made a sleepy noise. Azrael was already asleep, his braid all tangled around his shoulders. Trowa straightened it. The two sat down on the other side of the small campfire. Trowa poured a cup of coffee from a battered tin pot.
"If you knew how much I've missed real coffee," he sighed, leaning back against the wheel of the small wagon.
"Well, don't use it all up." Quatre leaned against him. "I can't believe you managed all this."
"I had help from Faisel and your future brother-in-law," Trowa kissed his forehead. "You deserve it. We'll go back only when we're good and ready to."
"I suppose there really isn't anyone else they could find to represent the Earth, is there?"
"Well, you won't do it alone," said Trowa. They were silent for a long moment. "But I am not wearing those silly knee breeches."
"I hate this outfit," Trowa grumbled. He was wearing what was being called "modified Sankt Court Dress." The spin on it was that the costume, like the ideals of the Sankt Kingdom had to be modified to fit with the changing times. The reality was that Quatre had been unable to convince Trowa and Wufei to wear knee-breeches. All three of the new delegates from Earth wore the close-fitting white trousers that had been a trademark of OZ uniforms with the traditional knee boots, long vests and great coats of the Sankt kingdom.
"You look stunning," Quatre adjusted the cloud of lace at Trowa's throat. Quatre wore the aquamarine outfit he had worn when he was first sworn in as a Representative. Trowa's outfit was a rich pine green, two shades darker than his eyes. His vest was emerald brocade.
"Stunned is more like it," was Wufei's dry comment. His costume was white, with a scarlet long vest.
"May we come in?" Moro and the children came in. Her gown and the dress "the little princess" wore matched her husband's vest, but Neko wore dragon green. Wufei's face always lost all its' sharp edges when his family was with him.
Peribanu was in an amber gown, but Azrael's outfit was the same as his "uncles" only in two shades of blue. He was not happy about it. Trowa gave him a sympathetic look. Quatre hugged them both. Ichiro followed hesitantly and was welcomed. He still looked a little lost, but was adapting rapidly. He wore dark brown.
The page came to escort them to the chambers. Quatre paused, and pulled a red rose from the vase.
"Thinking of Lady Une?" Trowa whispered. Quatre nodded, gently tucking the de-thorned blossom into Peri's hair. She had surrendered to the Council as soon as her troops returned to space. She freely confessed her assistance in all of Barton's plots as well as her direct involvement in the death of Omar Winner.
"I played my part to help restore the future to the path Master Treize would have set it on. I accept full responsibility for all my crimes," she announced to the stunned Council. "For five years, I have been a body without a soul. My life no longer matters now that Master Treize's dream is restored." She refused any attempts at appeal and accepted her death sentence with a quiet grace that moved many. She was buried back on Earth, next to Treize Kushrenada. In the coffin with her was a large bouquet of red roses that had been put into her arms. No one ever took credit for the flowers, they simply appeared within the coffin just before it was closed.
Wufei's preference was for white roses; Moro wore a spray of Peacecraft roses on her dress and Neko had a hairpiece of white buds. He had led representatives to where he had buried Relena Peacecraft's body and had seen it laid in the Peacecraft family tomb. The birch tree with his markings had become a sort of shrine to the late Queen.
Dorothy Catalonia had disappeared. It was never proven, but she was the prime suspect in the tampering of Epyon's system, having a knowledge of the Zero system that rivaled only Quatre's or possibly Howard's.
Lucrezia was taking care of her husband. Zechs returned to himself, but all his memories were blurred. He was said to be gentle and very kind. "All his masks are gone," Lucrezia reported. "And I find I love even more the man that he had hidden under them all." She would have been at the oath ceremony, but that morning had been taken to the hospital where her son and daughter would be born by the end of the day.
"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Council, please welcome our new delegates for the Earth!" the Chairman announced.
The three representatives walked out to a spatter of applause that grew into a standing ovation.
"You never did say what happened to your seat for L 4," Trowa murmured under the tumult, noting the empty seat.
"I couldn't serve both," Quatre whispered. "So I appointed a proxy."
"And our new delegate for L 4."
Duo Maxwell stalked out in a deep violet modified court costume that was matched by the gown worn by Hilde. His hair had been pulled back into a small ponytail like Wufei had once favored. "Cat, I am /so/ going to get you for this," he growled under his breath.
"Don't you dare start laughing," Quatre warned. Trowa coughed himself scarlet.
"Gentlemen, step forward before the Council and raise your right hands," said the Chairman.
Dorothy Catalonia chuckled to herself as she watched the ceremony on the small screen. It was the only light in the dark room save for the pale blue glow of the isolation tank next to her.
"End game and match," she said. "And such a pretty ending! Everyone is happy, everyone has what they want." She laid her hand on the surface of the tank, her eyes raking over the naked shadowy figure inside. "Especially me. It's going to be a fine future, my prince, my warrior, my . . . hero."