The silence was deafening. Heero opened his mouth in quick denial, but he closed it shut after one look at Quatre Winner. This man didn't stand for lies. The game was over.
"Did Merquise personally whisper in your ear?" Heero all but gnarled. He didn't know why exactly agent 006 was the first person to come to mind - but in the light of recent circumstances, he was perhaps the only person to come to mind. He was exposed. This wasn't a situation he could talk his way out of. No gun and no gadgets at his disposal; he was screwed.
"We're not going to kill you." Quatre said. "Yet."
Heero wanted to throw up the food he had consumed just minutes ago. His mind raced with a thousand miles a minute. Duo's face was pale and he refused to look at Heero; he hadn't been acquainted with the news very long. Heero reminded himself to be very careful, maneuvering his way around this; one wrong word and he was dead.
"If you really want to know, it was indeed Merquise who ratted you out. He had a hefty price, though."
"The filthy rat!" It was out of his mouth before he could hold himself back. Quatre moved back to his desk, a surprisingly sad expression on his face. Heero fought against his anger, searching for his usual calm composure. If he lived to tell this, Merquise was dead! Dead and crippled at his feet! Quatre sat down.
"He wanted to have the two thousand conductors and the Gundam designs for himself. He promised me to reveal your identity and the danger you presented for our operation. I laughed at him the first time he approached me, until he… showed me evidence about your work. Then, I realized that indeed one person can make a difference, especially with the name of Heero Yuy. I didn't want to risk my whole operation just because of that person. I have a reputation to uphold, Heero. I'm a businessman, so I always go for the better deal."
"What better deal can a traitor make? Merquise ratted me out and botched the transaction in which I had to die conveniently," Heero said. "Why did you keep me alive?"
"Because I don't want you dead. I see qualifications in you that I can use for our cause. I promised Zechs that you were going to be killed during the transaction, and I'm sorry to say that I had to sacrifice Walker for it. Don't think I don't feel remorse about that, Heero. I'm not a cold-blooded killer, and a minor flunky he might be, he had a family and loved ones. The choice was hard, but between someone like you and a wannabe-criminal like Walker, I didn't need to hesitate. Walker's family has been compensated generously, though I'm very well aware that money won't compensate their loss. Like I said, I'm not a cold-blooded killer, and if it were up to me, I'd avoid casualties against every cost. Sometimes the choice is out of my hand."
"We presented Walkers body as yours and made Merquise as well as the Secret Service believe that you were dead." It was Trowa who spoke, without much intonation or emotion in his voice. Heero dug his nails into the palms of his hands. His head was spinning.
Duo was uncomfortably silent. He had stopped eating, and his hands were in his lap, idly. Heero's heart ached; not for being exposed, but for Duo. Knowing that Duo was suffering from the entire situation was more difficult to Heero than fighting for his own life; he desperately wanted to see Duo's eyes, but he was turned away from him, long chestnut bangs hiding his expression.
Quatre continued: "The transaction didn't go completely as envisioned. First, it was never the intention for Duo to get hurt, though we were more than pleasantly surprised that you saved him. Second, Treize Khushrenada decided single-handedly to get rid of Septem."
"You've got nothing to do with his replacement?"
"I don't belong to the Romefeller Foundation, Heero. Further explanations will have to wait. We don't have all the time in the world. I wasn't - and I'm still not - happy about this development, as Khushrenada's own plans interfere with mine. He's not the one to be manipulated, unlike Septem, and I fear with Kushurenada at the helm, things are going to get out of hand. We need to act now."
"I guess I have to thank you for being alive."
"You're still alive, for now on." Quatre cleared his throat. "I mentioned before, I'm a business man first and foremost, Heero Yuy. I see in you qualities and opportunities I can use for greater benefit. I have a proposal for you."
"Why not have Trowa put a bullet in my head this instant? Saves you the trouble," Heero spat out.
"Trowa?" Quatre arched an eyebrow, and a strange, annoyed look quickly crossed Trowa's face.
"It's because my surname is Barton," he said, "Heero must assume that I'm one of those."
He didn't utter 'mercenary', but everyone in the room understood the unspoken word. Quatre shook his head.
"That's a conversation for another time as well, I'm afraid. I will give you my proposal soon, Heero. Now, please be so kind as to follow us to the limousine. We're going to the factory so you can see for yourself what this is all about."
Heero's stomach had turned and twisted itself into quite a few knots. He wished he could have some time to gather his thoughts, as he didn't understand everything that just had happened. His life was spared, but for what purpose? A visit to a factory? What were his 'qualifications' Quatre was talking about, and which had saved his life? And HeadQuarters… he had to warn them about Zechs, he had to tell them that he wasn't dead, that a war was impending… and his even bigger frustration was that Duo came to walk behind him. His Duo, the man he wanted to love and to hold, and whose trust he had lost forever. The very fragile threads of the bond between them were broken, there was an immeasurable distance between them, a distance covered in ice. Silently, the men left the mansion and waited for the limousine to pull up. The same servants rushed to open the doors and allowed them to get in; with a heavy heart, Heero settled into the back seat.
The drive to the factory took about thirty minutes. The silence in the limousine felt pained. Heero was seated across from Duo, looking stubbornly out of the window, ignoring everybody and everything around him. Trowa sat next to Duo, keeping an eye on Heero. Even if his assumption about Trowa was wrong, Heero had the distinctive notion that Trowa could kill him with his bare hands. Quatre was reading some kind of business magazine, calmly, as if he was on his way to a meeting.
Heero suppressed a sigh. He was curious to learn about this 'business proposal' and Quatre's factory. His curiosity was piqued, he couldn't help it. His survival instincts were running on pure adrenaline; he was looking for a way to escape, yet he wanted to stay. He wanted to talk to Duo, he wanted to hear his voice, to look into his eyes and swear to him that he loved him, no more lies, and everything was going to be all right… how was he going to get back into control of the situation again? How long had they'd known? Heero tried to recall Duo's words, from before the transaction. Did he know by then? No, judging from Duo's reaction earlier this morning, he hadn't known for long. Quatre and Trowa had played the both of them, and it shed another light on the billionaire. How would Relena react if she knew all about this? Heero straightened himself. He had to wait and be calm at the moment. Sooner or later, an opportunity would arise.
"We're here," Quatre announced and put aside his magazine as soon as the limousine grinded to a halt. The driver, the man Duo had referred to as Rashid, doubled as a bodyguard. The man certainly was burly enough to stop an entire army. One blow with his giant hand would be enough to cause a severe concussion. Heero stepped out of the car and squinted his eyes against the bright, artificial sunlight. It was so different from the Earth's sun. Morbidly, he wondered if he would ever see Earth again, or if the colony's sun was the last bit of 'warmth' he was going to feel on his skin. If Quatre's proposal was… wrong, he probably wouldn't make it out alive.
On the outside, the factory looked like any other factory; a huge building with "Winner Metal Products" mounted on the huge front door. Heero tried to take in as many details as possible, his second nature as secret agent hard to ignore. Walking up the steps, the automatic glass doors opened and the entire party walked in.
"L3 is pretty cheap when it comes to labor costs," Quatre said, "and this factory is the first on the colony to provide employees with a health plan and a retirement plan. The salaries are according to Earth's standards; I don't believe in exploiting people. Keeping my employees happy is a first step to prosperity." He pointed to the left, and Heero's eyes followed his direction.
The glass window panes showed him the work floor, and from this height he could exactly see what people were doing. Long production lines took up the floor, and the workers, dressed with hairnets and gloves, were assembling regular household appliances: blenders, mixers, other kitchen tools. Supervisors walked around to help out and fix any problem. Everyone was concentrated, but looked healthy and happy, a lot different from the grey, sullen people in the streets of L3.
"As you can see, I'm doing my best to bring balance into society." Quatre was about to say more, when he was interrupted by an elder man, excitedly rubbing his hands.
"Mister Winner! What a pleasant surprise! Are you here to take a look at the books?"
"I want to use the meeting room downstairs please," Quatre answered. "Please have the accountants and human resources manager meet me there in fifteen minutes."
"Yes, Mister Winner. And…your associates?"
"Mister Barton knows his way around. He will be taking test samples and check on the personnel here. Mister Yuy and Mister Maxwell here will be assisting him."
"Of course." The man had already forgotten about everyone else, focusing on Quatre who was in every inch the business man people knew on the outside. Heero was confused. What kind of business proposal could he expect in a factory for kitchen appliances? Trowa tapped on his shoulder.
"Follow me."
Duo went ahead, his hands stuffed in his pants pockets. Trowa brought up the rear, not speaking more than was necessary. Heero watched Duo's dangling braid dangling and registered, as if he was looking through someone else's mind, that Duo knew his way around here, which meant that he had been here often. He kept noticing such things, it was his line of work, but it drove him insane. He had found someone, he had fallen in love with someone, but if things went wrong, he would never know if his feelings were returned, if he had a chance with him… and he could only think of Duo, not even about his own life. He shivered. Duo's rigid composure was unfriendly, and every movement was brusque. Duo held up a card to gain access, and when the door slid open, he all but stomped in.
They went downstairs, shoes clanking on endless metal stairs. Heero wondered why there wasn't an elevator in such a modern factory. The lights were dim, only increasing when the party approached them. He stopped counting the steps after a while; it seemed pointless to him anyway. Finally, they reached solid ground. Heero followed Duo to the end of a corridor, where they both halted. Trowa stalked past them and rummaged around. An audible click and he took a few steps back: the wall started to move, rumbling, slowly giving way to another room, as large as the main factory upstairs.
"Go in," Trowa said, not unfriendly. Heero stepped into the room, waiting for his eyes to adjust, from the dim corridor to this brightly lit space. The ceiling was high, and cranes moved around large rails to transport huge sheets of metal and all kinds of objects Heero could hardly describe. A factory below a factory? He quickly counted ten, fifteen men, working on something… extremely large… and bulky… and his eyes went wide. No wonder the ceiling was so high. It was a goddamn mobile suit. Two mobile suits. Three mobile suits, surrounded by scaffoldings on which the workers walked with their tools and equipment, hollering at each other.
"Dear Lord," escaped Heero's lips.
"Trowa! How nice of you to stop by." A tan, tall man approached them, shaking Trowa's hand as if he welcomed a long lost son. "Are you checking up on progress? There's nothing much to tell, besides…"
"It's alright, commander Sadaul," Trowa answered, "I've come here to introduce you to Duo Maxwell and Heero Yuy."
"Mister Maxwell, a pleasure meeting you. I've heard a lot about you! I can't believe we finally meet! Mister Yuy… forgive me, but your name doesn't ring a bell."
Heero shook the man's hand. "I'm the one who sold the conductors."
"Ah!" The man's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Where are they? We could use them right about now!"
"Quatre brought them with him, but they need another round of inspection. Mister Yuy wasn't aware that he was delivered… faulty merchandise."
Heero gritted his teeth, but managed to conjure up a smile when Sadaul looked at him with something like pity in his eyes.
"How long is this going to take? We're not the only ones busy, you know."
Trowa looked briefly in Heero's direction before focusing his attention to Sadaul. "Quatre will have the conductors brought up as soon as possible, then you can have your engineers look at them. Anything else?"
"Take a look for yourself," Sadaul said, clearly disappointed that his precious conductors weren't ready yet. "There are lots of other things we can work on. We do need the conductors to make significant progress."
"You will have them soon enough." Trowa said dismissingly, and Sadaul took his leave. Trowa motioned Duo and Heero to come closer. He couldn't keep his eyes off of the mobile suits. These were no ordinary suits. Everybody knew who these suits were. These were…
"Gundams," Heero said, voice thick and throat raspy. "Why on Earth are you people rebuilding the Gundams?"
"This time the Gundams won't be the instruments of mass destruction, but the bringers of peace," Trowa said, voice suspiciously low and somehow… tender. "This time, the tables are turned around. They will set right what they did wrong."
"What do you mean?"
Trowa looked at him. "My name isn't Trowa Barton. Or, to put it differently, I'm not the original Trowa Barton."
"What?" Heero was confused. "What do you mean? Why are you telling me this?"
"To give you a brief explanation of the situation. Quatre believes that you'll make the right choice, and even though I don't necessarily agree, I don't see no harm revealing certain information to you… it's not like a dead man can relay our secrets."
Heero took in a deep gasp of breath and his body tensed up. Trowa wasn't carrying a gun and no one of the people Heero had met today, had been hostile to him - then he remembered that he was already dead. Would HQ immediately believe him if he just walked into the front door? He scowled. Trowa crossed his arms.
"Anyway, the original Trowa was part of the Barton Foundation, the same Foundation that decided to hurl a colony towards the Earth to cause a nuclear winter and send the Gundams to massacre the survivors and establish some sort of crooked peace on Earth."
"Operation Meteor," Heero said. "Foiled by the Gundam themselves, before they got tangled up into politics, choose the wrong side and caused more war and sorrow than anyone could ever imagine."
"Quite correct," Trowa nodded. "We thought that Dekim Barton, head of the Foundation, had either died in the two consecutive wars, or vanished without a trace since he no longer had any funding or followers."
"But…" Heero continued.
"But we're wrong," Trowa finished the sentence, albeit dryly. "Even worse, he's well alive and kicking, and has teamed up with allies to carry out his former plan."
"What? Who wants to drop a colony on Earth? Who still believes in that?"
"Anyone who still believes that the colonies are superior to the Earth and the Earth is the hotbed of raids and wars that's spread to the colonies. Dekim's ideas have found followers everywhere- even in the Romefeller Foundation."
"Khushrenada didn't seem the guy to drop a colony to me," Heero said, disturbed. He couldn't match his image of the impeccably clad Khushrenada with someone who believed that massacre was the way to gain peace.
"We're talking different levels here," Trowa said, beckoning Duo and Heero to approach the mobile suits even closer. They were in various stages of completion, each one bearing a different design.
"These three are for us," he said. "Me, Quatre, Wufei."
"For Quatre?"
"Don't underestimate him, Heero. You might have a warped opinion about him, but he's a terrific leader and strategist. You'd be surprised to learn where he's capable of."
"He'll continue to surprise me if I'll live, yes."
Trowa ignored his comment and pointed to the suit to the left. "That one is going to be mine," he said, admiration and anxiety seeping through his words. "Gundam 03, HeavyArms."
Heero saw the dark green and blue outline of the mobile suit, with the protruding chest open, showing massive storage for missiles and ammunition. If this one represented the heavy artillery common for L3, he expected the Gundam to carry nothing less.
"Gundam 04, Sandrock." Heero could see the outline of the mobile suit with the exceptionally thick armor. It had an exotic feeling to it, as if it was build for crossing massive deserts. One of its cutting weapons was ready and mounted on the back of the majestically Gundam.
"Gundam 05, Altron." This one clearly bore the marks of the proud Chinese warrior, in honor and remembrance of the perished L5 colony. The green and red colors and the head antennae were replicated from old Chinese tradition. Heero could really see Wufei piloting this one.
"That's pretty…impressive," he had to say.
Trowa showed a wistful smile. "It's been a long term plan, but recent events forced us to speed things up. Quatre will inform you; we'll have to get back to the meeting room."
They left the huge workplace the same way they had entered. Duo hadn't spoken a single word.
Quatre was waiting for them in the meeting room, and in the meantime lunch was served. Heero didn't have any appetite, and Duo declined with simply a shake of his head. Heero didn't like it. He'd hoped for at least one chance to talk to Duo, at least one chance to talk before he'd die. And dying he would, before he would give Quatre Winner a chance to recreate the bloodiest mistake in history.
The strained tension was insufferable. Trowa barely touched lunch either, and Quatre sipped his umpteenth cup of tea that day. He discarded the lunch after eating only one sandwich.
"Trowa told you already bits and pieces, and I'm left to fill in the big picture," he said.
"Just tell me why you're rebuilding Gundams and claiming it's for the benefit of mankind!" Heero all but growled at him.
"Very well. You have a right to know the answers, after everything that has happened. Trowa, turn off the lights, please?"
The room was darkened and Quatre fumbled a little with an old-fashioned beamer, to project a picture of an elderly man with a deep wrinkled face, framed with long, sleek white hair and clad in common, civilian clothes. Intrigued, Heero leaned forward to study the picture.
"Trowa told you about the Barton Foundation? Yes? Okay. The man on the picture is Quinze. We don't know more about him than he's quite the radical man: he was involved in the original Operation Meteor and according to our sources, he only lives for carrying out that plan a second time. That's why he created White Fang, his own army of followers."
"Continue," Heero said, after a short pause. He was really intrigued.
"White Fang disposes over the same technology we do, but the mobile suits they're building are far inferior to Gundams. They believe in strength in numbers, but they aren't to be underestimated. They are busy, however, building Gundams of their own: the Vayeate and Mercurius. Progress on them is far and far slower than ours."
Quatre showed the next picture, another image of Quinze with a military clad man who had to be Dekim Barton. "We are more than convinced that Dekim and Quinze have allied. They have a spaceship called the Libra to execute their plans. They've seized factory equipment on the moon, building mobile suits as they see fit, supervised by Tubarov."
"Tubarov!" Heero hissed. The man had once been a target of one of his missions, and had managed to make a spectacular escape. He was the first - and only - to escape Heero. He'd thought the man had died of old age, but it turned out he was still up to his antics.
"They've build quite the fortress for themselves," Trowa said. He flicked the lights back on. "It's going to be very difficult to attack them. They took years to carefully prepare, and we still don't know the magnitude of their plans. For large parts, we can only assume and speculate."
Quatre nodded. "White Fang has various help, and I believe Dorothy Catalonia and Zechs Merquise are involved."
"What!" Heero yelled. Relena! Quatre put up his hand.
"The Queen is safe, for now," he said. "Do you really think that we'd sacrifice the embodiment of peace? People don't realize how fragile the peace is they're holding, the freedom they're breathing, the freedom they think they're enjoying. They assume everything is all fine and well, but they don't have the slightest clue of the threat leering at them. And I, together with the people I have at my side, am going to stop those threats."
"How altruistic," Heero muttered.
"My father died in front of my eyes," Quatre hissed. "He was shot down with such brutal military power, that the force of the explosion threw my shuttle of course, killing my eldest sister and injuring me."
"So now it's time to answer violence with violence?"
"If people wish to see the Gundams as threat, so be it," Quatre said, eyes flashing. "I can't change the public opinion, but what I can change is the power balance. There are people out there planning to hurl a colony towards the Earth. I don't know the personal motivations of Catalonia and Merquise, but I do know they don't have the best interest of mankind at heart."
"Where do I fit in this picture?" Heero asked. "If you're going to kill me, please give me the chance to at least warn Relena. I don't mind begging for it - just allow me to give her the message that she's in danger."
Quatre looked at him quizzically and shook his head. "Hear us out first. I studied your file and I know that you're strong enough, mentally and physically, to take on any task and that you'd die for the preservation of peace. Heero…"
Silence fell. Quatre stared at him. "How would you like to operate a Gundam yourself?"
The brusque snort that ruptured the silence didn't come from Quatre, Trowa, or Heero - it was Duo. When all eyes stared into his direction, he glared fiercely back, eyes smoldering with anger and more, before he left the room. Trowa turned around to follow him, but Quatre motioned him to sit down.
"Let him be," he said and Trowa stopped in his movements.
"There are many ways to achieve peace," Heero said, slowly. No matter how much it pained him to see Duo leave, the topic at hand was more important. "One is to eradicate the feelings of fighting and discarding all weapons, as according to Relena and her policy of Total Pacifism. Another way is to force people into so-called peace and to control that peace with excessive force. Which method is it for you, Quatre Winner?"
"None of what you mentioned," Quatre said. "I don't intend to rule the world or to enforce world peace by military force. That'd be rather counterproductive, don't you think? No, you have to see the bigger picture here."
"Picture it for me, then."
"Like I said, White Fang is planning to drop a colony on the Earth to wipe out mankind and to remove the hotbed of emotions, Earth. Therefore, the White Fang has searched for and found themselves allies in Zechs Merquise and Dorothy Catalonia, both ulterior motives unknown. They have funding, they have sympathizers, and they have facilities and equipment. But their plans don't end with dropping a colony on Earth. They have decided to mass produce mobile suits."
"That would require the training of many pilots," Heero pointed out. "It takes years to accomplish that, and every secret service in the world would jump at them if they found out."
"That's why they don't equip the mobile suits with human pilots, but with a computer system rendering them to dolls: mobile dolls. White Fang took out the human aspect of war, while they decided to wipe out the human aspect on Earth. They've developed a system to pilot the dolls from a remote distance."
"How does that even work?"
"This system is nothing like any other system I've seen. The mobile doll system doesn't interpret nor analyze battle data, it doesn't adapt itself accordingly the used skills and techniques. It's just a system that gives the control over all of the suits to one person, and that single person is in total control of the fight. Like I said, the human aspect is removed, and makes one human God with a soulless army at his or hers fingertips."
"Great God," Heero said, baffled.
"That's why we need your help, Heero Yuy. You're a man with a heart in the right place. You have a great sense of justice. Judging from your file, I'd say you can esteem a situation pretty well and you have a great heart for peace. Well now, Heero, this is my proposal. You get a Gundam to pilot, and in exchange you'll rid the world of a very high threat: the White Fang and the mobile doll system. I'm taking a great risk with you, but either with or without you, this is going to happen. You can stand from the sidelines watching Earth be destroyed and White Fang exerting power with an army of brain dead, inhuman mobile suits. You can participate and bring this threat to an end. I certainly can use your help."
"You're still going to kill me if I refuse?" Heero said.
"Your file mentioned that you weren't susceptible for bribes or any other means of pressure. I guess that nothing can sway your opinion or decision once you've made one. I'd hate to see a bullet wasted on you, I'd hate to see your life wasted as you're such a valuable asset. This is a good cause, Heero."
"I'm not so sure about your good cause," Heero said. "When this is all over, you have five Gundams finished. That's a lot of firepower and a huge threat from your side."
"I understand your objection." Quatre looked tired in yellow tube light. "I'm ready to surrender myself and all my technology and the Gundams, to Her Majesty's Queen of the World Relena's Secret Service as soon as this is finished.
"What about your shady contacts? Romefeller? Dermail?"
"Dermail wasn't finished by us, if that's what you mean. The man overstepped boundaries and I was ready to blackmail him or find any other way to deal with him. The bullet didn't have my command written on it, Heero. I even think the bullet was meant for you - maybe a first attempt of Zechs to get you out of the way."
"Hmm.." Heero didn't have an answer to that. Quatre's suggestion left an unsettling sensation in his stomach. "Still, you haven't answered what happens when I refuse."
"You die," Quatre said, blunt. "Don't see me as a weak person, Heero. If you won't receive a bullet from us, someone else will. There's a war at stake here, and whether you die by our hands or by enemies' hands is totally up to you. Do not think that I don't know how to deal with these situations. I won't hesitate to fight to win and to use force if it's necessary to win. I prefer no victims are involved, of course. If it was up to me, we had peace decades ago, my father wouldn't have died and I wouldn't have had to take these steps."
"What about Duo?"
Quatre looked at Trowa, than glanced back at Heero. "Duo… will be dealt with." When he saw Heero's frightened look, he smiled. "Not in that way. Please, I hope I didn't exaggerate. I'd be crazy to kill a master thief. Duo is a good, no, a great friend, Heero. I'd like to keep it that way. He's a bit upset, that's all."
Heero didn't like it at all, but remained silent. Quatre folded his arms.
"I'd like to hear your answer."
"Will you allow me to contact Relena at least, to let her know that she's in danger?"
"At this time, it looks safer to me that you remain dead, for the sake of every party involved. Relena is perfectly safe at the moment; half of the personal staff surrounding her, are my people. They're trained to respond to every threat, and will take care of it should something happen to her. She's as safe and secure as she can be, Heero. I'm very sorry that she's having a hard time, coping with your death. I can't risk telling her that you're still alive. It's a grave lie, and I'm willing to share the blame and the grief."
"If Relena is safe, then I agree with you."
Heero was taken aback by surprise when he saw a bright smile on Quatre's face. He was beaming!
"So good to hear that you're joining us, Heero. Welcome aboard! I'll have you assigned detailed information later and let you know when it's time for you to start your Gundam training."
"And which Gundam is going to be mine? The other three are all spoken for," Heero said.
"Two Gundams are already finished. They're our biggest trump card at the moment. You'll meet them once time is appropriate."
"That leaves us with one pilot short," Heero said.
Quatre reclined in his chair. He tapped on the armrest of the chair, as if he was suddenly nervous. "I'm giving the first Gundam to you, Heero. The second one…" - a sudden sigh of respect in his voice - "is a rather unique design. I think that one…is a bit farfetched, if I might say so. There has to be a very unique pilot for a very unique Gundam. Let's say it has to wait until we have the right pilot. I'm not sure how to put it… but it seems that this particular Gundam isn't very easy satisfied with just any pilot. It requires more... compassion. I don't know how to explain it."
"Compassion? For a Gundam?" Heero didn't know what to make of Quatre's words. The other stood up, visibly fatigued. The meeting was over.
"We'll meet up again at dinner tonight. If you'll excuse me…"
He left the room. Heero presumed he was going to talk to Duo. That left him with Trowa.
"What's your deal with this, apart from your ties to the Barton Foundation?"
"I don't have much to do with the Barton Foundation," Trowa answered. "As I've said, I'm not the original Trowa Barton. I am… was a nameless mercenary. I knew nothing about Gundams and didn't care for any political threat. After I met Quatre, I decided to join his side. I don't feel particularly tied to this colony, but my own contacts proved to be valuable. I'd follow Quatre to the end of the world." He suddenly gaped like a fish, and tried to talk over it. "We'll go back to the mansion soon, and Auda will assign you a room. There's still much to discuss."
Chapter 8 | Chapter 10