Merc

Trowa POV

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Marseilles had a series of underground channels that had been used for suit transport, bomb shelters, and various other war-oriented activities for decades. They were rarely used now due to the decrease in Alliance forces since the Oz takeover. It was the perfect place to hide my gundam.

The other pilot and I knew the possibility of an Oz attack, knew it was coming soon, but we had hoped we could get in, take care of his plans with Sylvia Noventa, and get out before Oz came. As he and I walked through the city streets after hiding the transport truck deep in the tunnels, we heard the sirens blare and knew we were too late.

I took lead, mainly because I had more speed and stamina than the still recovering pilot. We made our way to the edge of the Leo’s formation; Oz had ten Aries suits incoming, and we waited.

One of the defending Alliance Leos got off a shot that damaged the portside thruster; the Ozzie pilot wasn’t skilled enough to correct the trajectory and hit the ground hard. It was the perfect situation. As the other suits continued on to attack the Leo’s, one lone Aries, with its communications center intact, was going down just a few hundred yards in front of us.

I sprinted from the buildings we were using as cover, and I heard the other pilot following close behind me. I launched myself up the rubble kicked up at his crash, and as the hatch opened, I was positioned perfectly. The Oz pilot dropped from his harness, straightened, and had time only for a surprised expression to cross his face before my fist connected with his stomach. He stumbled backwards and lost consciousness.

Pilot 01 took the headset when inside the cockpit, but I could hear the Oz battle chat just fine without it. The Alliance Leo’s decided to retreat into the underground channels and make their stand there after rejoining with the main force. Oz was ordering the regrouping of all Aries suits for a full frontal assault.

I cursed under my breath. There was no way Heavyarms would go unnoticed with a battle playing out in the tunnels.

He was looking at me with a question on his face. I gave him my full gaze as I answered. “The underground channels. Pretty obvious decision.”

He nodded slightly. “Don’t worry about me. I’d only get in your way with this arm.”

“We have to make sure that Oz doesn’t discover we have a gundam in town.” He was on the same page as me. I knew he would lay low until the battle was over, meaning I had obliterated all observers of my gundam, and then we would go in search of the youngest Noventa.

We split up then; I ran through the city streets, blending in with countless others who were running for shelter. My course was different; I made my way to the channel exit I had used when dropping off Heavyarms. I just hoped I wasn’t too late. There was quite a bit of ground to cover on foot.

As I got there, I observed for a split second to judge the tide of battle. The Leos had turned and made a stand in front of my transport truck. They must have found Heavyarms and thought I would play it on their side. Partially right, Oz is my enemy.

But I would have had to destroy them as well. No one could see my gundam and live, especially not now, with Oz using the colonies as an excuse to blunt my knife.

It turns out I didn’t have to destroy the Alliance troops. The only remaining suit charged the line of Aries, taking out one and becoming fodder. But he allowed me time to enter and engage Heavyarms.

There were only five suits remaining. Their attention was on the falling of the last Leo rather than looking for more enemies. Fools. My gun was trained on the front line before they ever realized the battle was not yet won. A round of bullets kept them preoccupied while my thrusters sent me straight at the two in front.

My knife ensured they would not survive the fight. They had to die; they all had to die simply because Oz was playing dirty. None could find me and live.

“I have no intention of getting involved in a battle between the Alliance and Oz. However, I just can’t afford to let anyone see my gundam suit.”

I opened the chest panels, scattering the last three. For a split second they became unaware of the restrictions of the channel that surrounded them, two did not survive that instant. The switchblade gutted the suits. I flipped the switch, and the knife returned as the hand of my gundam reached forward and crushed the cockpit of the last remaining suit.

The radar was clean, comms were silent. No communication got through, Heavyarms was safe. I closed my eyes and breathed deep, letting the fuel of battle release me, letting my heart calm from its slight elevation. My hand throbbed with pain, borderline intolerable pain, and I held my breath for fear of crying out.

It felt as if my hand, not the gundanium hand of Heavyarms, had been the one that reached out and crushed that cockpit. That the shards of fiberglass screens, steel doors, and bone had shredded my hand and my nerves were on fire. It was like I felt the pain of the pilot as his life was crushed within that metallic grave, all that pain and fear throbbed within the flesh of my hand.

And then it was gone, and I shut down any questions. I had to pack up and get to Heero. We needed to leave Marseilles as quickly as possible.

Heavyarms was packed back into the transport truck and covered with a tarp, and exited the tunnels. We had set aside a meeting place in case we got separated, knowing the possibility of attack. I knew where he would be, and he was.

But he had a friend. I recognized Sylvia Noventa from the picture in the Alliance database. She was trying to have a conversation with the other pilot, who wasn’t entirely comfortable with the situation. When he saw me walk into the ‘for sale’ office building we had designated as the meeting place, he straightened. Apparently, I was a welcome distraction.

She turned and saw me. “Oh, hello, you must be who we were waiting for. My name is Sylvia.”

My eyes flicked to the other pilot who was watching me closely, then my gaze found the girl expectantly waiting in front of me. “Trowa,” I said as I nodded to her.

She smiled and turned back to 01 as he spoke. “We should get going. Will you show us how to get there?”

The girl looked somewhat uneasy. “Of course, but isn’t this a bad time? There could still be some fighting going on outside.”

I spoke up. “The Oz suits are no longer a threat, but there may be reinforcements coming within the next hour or so. He’s right; we should be moving soon.”

Her smile was hesitant but present. “Ok then, let’s go.”

The other pilot picked up a bouquet of white flowers wrapped in cellophane before following her out the door. I took a deep breath, feeling Death’s presence hovering like a physical thing, and walked outside.

She directed my route to a cemetery outside of the city. I pulled the truck off the road at the entrance, cut the engine, and watched the others get out and walk about thirty meters from where I sat.

The sun was setting behind the trees that bordered the cemetery, and the evening breeze was picking up. It was a nice evening, but my concern was more placed on how much easier I could overhear what was being said with the wind bringing the words directly to my ears.

I watched as the girl led 01 to the grave of her grandfather.

“Heero? You said your name was Heero Yuy?”

He nodded in affirmative.

I sat back into the front seat of the transport truck. “Heero Yuy, huh?” I crossed my arms over my chest, struggling internally with differing emotions. I still had an overwhelming sense of dread hovering above me, but his name gave me pause. A slight smirk took my lips. His name was as real as my own, but his name was stolen from a colonial martyr, a pacifist leader gunned down by the Alliance years before.

Sylvia gestured to the cross-shaped tombstone in front of her. “This is my grandfather’s grave, right here. You said you wanted to talk to me…?”

He set the flowers down on the grave and then turned; gripping the barrel of the gun he had been given by me, and held it out to Sylvia. “I was the one who killed Marshal Noventa.”

Her face went slack, the smile gone. Utter shock was written across her features. “Huh?”

“I made a critical mistake and accidentally shot down the shuttle Marshal Noventa was on, killing him and other people who had also been advocating peace.” He never wavered, voice flat and empty as he recited his mistakes to his executioner.

“How could you?! What happened?!” She began finding a foothold in all of this, but she was clearly struggling.

“This is the only thing I can do for you right now. Sylvia Noventa.” His hand never wavered despite the strength needed to hold the weight outstretched on a weakened limb, still holding the gun that could end his life out to the grief-stricken girl.

She took the gun from him, pointing the barrel at his head. Her stance went wide, and I saw that she had been trained in the use of a firearm. She wouldn’t miss at this range; my breath caught in my throat, and I held fear within my mind.

I did not want to see him die, but I had no other choice.

He kept speaking. “I can’t undo my mistake. I can only hope that the anger felt by the Marshal’s loved ones and the regrets of the Marshal’s soul can be somewhat eased if you pull that trigger.”

“You’re such a coward!” My eyes widened at her words, but she continued without knowing how closely she echoed Cathy’s words. “Its obvious that you just want to take the easy way out of this!”

Easy way out? Death as an escape, is that what Cathy had meant?

“This is the only answer I can offer you right now.” His voice was strong, determined in the face of her tears, staring down the barrel of the gun.

She was crying; the pitch of her voice rising and falling, cracking under the strain. “You coward. You coward!”

“Try to understand, I did not come here to make you suffer any more than you have.” He turned slightly, and took a step. “I’m leaving now to go pay a visit to your grandmother. I heard she was living in Sicily.”

“Yes.” Her voice was hesitant, not sure whether to affirm his statement or ignore him.

As I watched him begin his trek back to the truck, I let my voice slide softly through the cab of the truck. “This is where it starts. He goes from one family member to the next seeking their verdict. Everything he does is completely thorough and well thought out. Everything Heero Yuy does.”

Why was I talking aloud to myself? I was unsettled. He very easily could have been a corpse now, and, though silence is still a companion that I cherish, it felt overbearing right at this moment. I needed to hear some familiar noise to lose myself within; the white noise of wheels turning against asphalt will serve soon enough, but, here, now, I needed something else.

He walked away from one potential executioner, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Sylvia shouted after his retreating figure. “Wars are nothing but repulsive killings! How is it that you can be so clear-cut about it all?!” She was searching; it seems I was not the only one in need of some form of anchor. Heero Yuy had upended her entire world, not only once with the death of Marshal Noventa, but again with the unexpected confession and subsequent choice: to kill or not to kill.

He stopped his stride, turning his head to look back at her. “It’s the only way I know how to live.”

How true, find a path, take it, no matter the obstacles, no matter the outcome, you stay your path.

Heero climbed in the truck, and soon we were on open roads with nothing but wind to break our new path.

The cemetery scene with Sylvia had taken a lot out of Heero. There was no outward sign, but I had seen cracks in his stoic mask as he set the flowers on the tombstone.

And I couldn’t blame him. This boy, who had been saddled with the job of taking down Oz single-handedly, who was given the codename of a colonial pacifist martyr, leader…hero, had made martyrs of the leaders who may have achieved his objectives without bloodshed.

Sylvia called him a coward; I wondered if he came to similar conclusions and I did when called that.

I was driving again, Heavyarms tucked away under the tarp, heading towards the next stop on his list of potential assassins for the second Heero Yuy. But he had other plans.

“Trowa.”

“Yeah.”

“Can you exit here? I’d like to stop for a little while.”

“Sure.”

He gave me directions that took us farther and farther from civilization, and soon enough we came out on a deserted mountain road that was narrower than I was comfortable driving with such large cargo, but we made it to a stopping point safely. Heero got out, climbed on top of Heavyarms’ chest plate, and just sat.

The road was cut out of a cliff face that jut out into the ocean, and Heero was staring out into the waves as if they held the key to life’s answers, and, maybe, they did for him. To me, the immense seas constantly in motion just reminded me how very small and insignificant one such as me could be. It was the same feeling the jaguar and the lions gave me…a sense of serenity in that there was little I could do to change things, so I might as well sit back and coast along with the waves until they decided to swallow me.

Morbid, I know, but my thoughts turned to death a lot during that time, between my decision to self detonate and the observation of Heero going from family to family and handing them a gun. Yes, death followed my thoughts.

I gave him about ten minutes then climbed up there with him. We really should have kept moving, but it seemed like he needed this; I wasn’t going to deny him.

As I sat next to him on the broad chest compartment of my gundam, right above enough high-impact explosives to level a city, the silence astounded me. The constant roar of the ocean seemed to fade into nothing and you were surrounded by noises and yet apart from it.

Maybe the ocean calmed him because the sheer size reminded him of the vastness of space, who knows; I doubt he even knew.

But it was a nice feeling, just sitting static with someone so like me; I had never had any sort of companion before…well, one, but he died by my hand. Prick.

I hoped this one would live longer than the last, but, then again, I had no intention of killing someone I worked so hard to save. He could betray me, too, and maybe my thoughts toward him would change, but as of now, I’d probably let him take my life rather than risking his.

Why? I had no idea; I’d never had the experiences I’d had with him. I’d never felt protective of someone before, never had someone depend on me in such a way, it was nice despite the fact that he didn’t need me anymore, not really.

He was a lot like me, his manner, his thinking. I knew this from the things he said, the way he said them. He was a soldier to the very core, and his discipline was immaculate. I knew beyond doubt that if we fought together, as allies, that he would be my equal. He would know the proper formations, fire patterns, communication signals to use for two suits fighting multiple opponents with scattered formations.

I knew he would cover my hind and flank just like I would cover his. I knew that I would be able to depend on him when death was bearing down, and we would not falter. It was refreshing to feel such confidence in another. I hadn’t felt that way in ages.

He was a true ally. My thoughts turned then to Quatre. He was an ally as well, in theory. But I could not trust Winner at my back in battle. He was too kind. He had too much of an interest in making friends, finding companions than protecting either himself or me.

At New Edwards, when we faced off against Oz and two other suits of unknown loyalties, he was positioned behind me, as Heero had been positioned behind 02. He was yelling into my comms for me to stop fighting against a suit with a thermal energy beam aimed at my cockpit.

His emotions overpowered his sense of self-preservation, if he has any. Then 05 made his presence known, approaching from behind me. Walking right past Quatre and fired on the two of us locked in combat. If Heavyarms hadn’t alerted me in time, that firespray would have wreaked havoc on the weaker armor at my back.

And Winner didn’t do a thing to stop him; he didn’t even warn me. No, I didn’t trust him in battle. But Heero, I would fight with him any day.

“Trowa.” His deep voice broke the companionable silence.

“Hn.”

“Are we friends?” The even tone completely belied the loaded question.

I blinked several times realizing that his thoughts somewhat paralleled my own, but as for my response…did I even truly know what a ‘friend’ was?

“I…” I paused, swallowing; my throat was tight and I wasn’t sure why. “I don’t know. Why?”

‘Bye friend, Trowa. We’ll meet again.’ An alto voice echoed in my head, Quatre’s voice, and I was brought back to a mansion in the middle of a desert.

The ocean still filled my view, but I saw dark hair sway as his head tilted slightly. “Something someone said once.” His voice was such a deep contrast to the song-like quality of the Winner heir. He trailed off, and I thought the conversation had ended which saddened me.

I couldn’t help the feeling that I was missing out on something important. But he continued after a moment’s silence.

“He helped me. I didn’t need it, didn’t want it, but he said he was my friend. You helped when I did need it, have helped me several times since then.”

“Still didn’t want it.” I couldn’t help the smirk that lifted the very edge of my mouth.

He sent me a glare, but it softened, and he smirked, too. “You didn’t give me much choice, though.” He trailed off looking back out into the waves, and I watched his profile, the wind shifting his hair slightly.

I couldn’t stay silent; I felt I had to tell him something in return. “You’ve helped me as well.”

He snorted in derision.

“You have. I had been static too long. This trip, it keeps me moving; I get restless when I’m in one place too long.” It wasn’t as bad as all that, but he gave me a purpose for a brief period of time. It was almost a reverence I felt towards him, but I would never admit that aloud. I needed to give him something.

“Then a traveling circus makes sense.” His comment told me he knew that my reasoning was bogus; I wonder if he knew there was more there, or if he thought I was just trying to comfort him in some way.

Both were right to some extent.

“Yeah.” Silence filled the air between us, but I kept feeling the need for more, a need to break it.

Silence had always been a comfort for me, what had changed? “So, I guess we’re friends then.” My voice caught on the words, but I choked it out.

He turned to me, small smile painted on his lips. “Friends.”

I think I’ll always remember him in that moment, with the sun turning the ocean into a blazing orange inferno behind him, face somewhat shadowed, blue eyes a brilliant contrast to the fire behind him and the simplest expression of pleasure curling his mouth.

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Awww. 01 and 03 can do sap! Kinda, sorta, maybe. ^^

It took me a while, and I apologize for that, but I actually like this chapter a lot. It usually takes me a day or two for what I've written to grow on me. Meh, maybe that's good, maybe that's bad. I dunno.

Hope you liked it, those of you who are still with me.

A