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Still Grows the Lilac

The Lilac Princess Book II

By Lady Dante

Chapter 5

War Games

It was a week before the Lake Victoria Academy’s annual war games and the campus was more active that ever before. Although restricted to second year cadets, the exercise was one of the most anticipated events of the year, engrossing everyone from the lowliest first year cadet to His Excellency. To add to the excitement, the top two cadets currently attending the Academy were each to lead a faction. Cadet Lucretzia Noin was to command Blue Unit while Red Unit was placed in the hands of Cadet Zechs Marquise. Armaments were limited to rifles that fired paint pellets, but the mock battle was expected to be enthralling nonetheless.

Over the past three weeks, the two stoic cadets had been seen in each other’s company a great deal. It was something of a surprise to their classmates, as neither student had ever shown any inclination to make friends and their rivalry for top cadet standing was notorious. It was not an uncommon sight now to see the two walking together or sharing a meal. Currently, the 14-year-old juniors were supervising their first years in combat exercises. The Academy classes were divided into military divisions, first year cadets were placed under the supervision of second year students, with senior year commanders in authority overall. The top ranking cadets in each class were naturally given command of their respective platoons, units, and divisions and expected to take responsibility for those in their charge.

Cadet Marquise often pit his young troops against Cadet Noin’s group during training exercises, taking particular pride in any victory won against such an able opponent. Noin, for her part, enjoyed the challenge of finding new strategies and techniques to use against her more tradition-oriented adversaries. The two were making quite a name for themselves in the Academy history books, breaking every standing record, including those set by His Excellency several years before. Zechs Marquise and Lucretzia Noin were by far the best cadets ever to attend Lake Victoria Academy, yet possessed none of the conceit one might expect. They were equally well-known for their single-minded focus on improving themselves, never accepting that the latest accomplishment was good enough but rather always looking for the next goal to pass.

"I don’t see why they couldn’t at least allow you and I to use mobile suits. Our scores are better than the seniors."

"I think using mobile suits defeats the point of the exercise, Zechs. We’re supposed to experience battle at its worst. Up close and personal."

The cadets were leaning against wall watching their students practicing defensive moves and discussing the upcoming event. Noin flipped a page in the small book she was reading as Zechs scuffed his feet in irritation. He was anxious to have a try at mobile suit combat and found it quite annoying that such activity was strictly reserved for seniors. He and Noin were tied for first in the simulation chamber, but the true test was to sit in a mobile suit, controls in hand and fight. He had operated several mobile suits in basic exercises, but had yet to try his hand at weapons operations. Zechs found it frustrating that someone with his advanced experience had to wait.

"His Excellency is testing us. He wants to determine if we have the courage to face our enemies face to face."

"Pretty much."

"So," Zechs paused to look over at his companion wit a touch of uncharacteristic trepidation. "how bad is it?"

Noin stopped reading, but didn’t look up. "I was in the command center. I didn’t really participate in the actual battle."

"But?"

"But it was still pretty nerve wracking."

"Were you frightened?"

A charming but self-deprecating smile spread across the girl’s face. "Scared to death…but I did my job. Besides, you’re supposed to be afraid in battle. If you’re not, there’s something seriously wrong with you."

Zechs chuckled softly and lowered his voice in imitation of Treize Kushrenada. " ‘If you weren’t afraid it wouldn’t take courage.’ "

Noin grinned up at him. "Got the speech, too, huh?"

"Oh, I get every speech and then some."

"Well, that’s what you get for being the new darling of Romefellar."

Zechs grunted in displeasure and rolled his eyes. "Noin, please."

"What is it they call you now? Lightening Boy?"

"Count. Lightening Count."

"Ah…" Noin paused to bark an order to one of her team members, then continued. "I wonder what they call me."

"Everyone calls you Miss Noin…no one is brave enough to call you anything else."

Zechs smirked ever so slightly at the remark. Two weeks before, Noin had so thoroughly defeated a fellow cadet in hand-to-hand combat exercises, that everyone in school was abuzz. It would not have been such an event if not for the fact that the other cadet was a senior, a foot taller and fifty pounds heavier. Noin, never one to crave such attention, endured it as best she could until one afternoon she overheard a male student named Carter refer to her as an Amazon princess and added a few offensive comments speculating on how Noin would look in leather. The last remark infuriated Zechs to the point he almost dealt with the cadet himself, but found it was not necessary. Having withstood all she possibly could, Noin’s now infamous temper got the better of her and she proceeded to "discuss" the matter with Carter. "Discussing" being the Academy euphemism for "beat the crap out of." Zechs had witnessed the scuffle at a distance, but close enough to lend a hand should it prove necessary.

He knew Noin could handle herself and allowed her to take care of her own problems, but he had not quite shaken the need to make certain she was all right--especially with regards to male students and their ungentlemanly behavior towards the budding beauty. As he expected, Noin was the victor in the altercation, only a few bruised knuckles as evidence that she had been a fight at all. True, she had received several demerits for conduct unbecoming, but she accepted the punishment with head held high and few students ever dared make such a mistake again. The few that did found themselves on the receiving end of an icy, soul-withering glare from the tall, quiet cadet that always seemed to accompany Miss Noin these days.

As the conversation stalled, Noin took up her book and once again began reading from the small volume. Zechs watched her out of the corner of his eye for a few moments. Paolo sent the book to Noin for their fourteenth birthday two weeks ago. The only mail Noin ever received were monthly letters from their old schoolmate in Livorno. Noin was obviously pleased with the regular correspondence, so Zechs tried not to let it annoy him…much. He certainly didn’t begrudge her the opportunity to cling to their rapidly evaporating youth. Zechs did so himself. The old stone house they found on the day he and Noin had renewed their friendship was now their home away from campus. A place where they could act their age without fear of reprisal. They cleaned the old homestead up a bit, made a few repairs and actually acquired some meager furnishings, drawing on their long-dormant bartering skills to supply them with various items of comfort. The little house was now quite a hideaway. A birthday present to each other.

"What’s so fascinating about that silly book anyway?" Zechs asked, trying valiantly not to sound irked over the fact that Noin was so absorbed with Paolo’s gift.

Noin either did not notice or chose to ignore ‘silly’ and responded, "It’s called The Art of War by Sun Tzu and it’s quite good actually. It’s going to help me win the war games," she added with a grin. "There are some very good lessons in here." Flipping back through the book to a specific quote, the girl read aloud. " ‘What is of supreme importance in war is to attack the enemy's strategy. Next best is to disrupt his alliances by diplomacy.’ Pretty good, huh?"

Zechs frowned. "What is of supreme importance in war is to defeat your enemy by any means necessary."

"At the cost of your own troops?"

"If necessary, yes."

"You don’t really believe that," Noin scoffed as she thumbed to another page. " ‘All warfare is based on deception. Therefore, when capable of attacking, feign incapacity; when active in moving troops, feign inactivity. When near the enemy, make it seem that you are far away; when far away, make it seem that you are near. Hold out baits to lure the enemy.’ "

"Well, that doesn’t sound very honorable."

"But getting all of your soldiers killed does?"

"Yes. If they die in a just cause…yes. It’s moot anyway. My cadets are too well trained to get themselves killed accidentally."

Noin snorted and shook her head.

Zechs glanced over at the book and realized it was a copy of the original text, not a translation. "When did you learn to read Chinese?"

"About a year ago. Wait. Here’s one I like, ‘Strike the enemy when he is in disorder. Prepare against the enemy when he is secure at all points. Avoid the enemy for the time being when he is stronger. If your opponent is of choleric temper, try to irritate him’…oh, this one is for you," Noin smirked and nudged the tall boy in the ribs, ‘If he is arrogant, try to encourage his egotism.’ "

"I’m not arrogant. I’m confident."

"Uh-huh, right."

Zechs was about to respond when he noted one of the youngest cadets botch a defensive move and fall on his rear. Walker was the smallest one in the group and perpetually in need of assistance. Zechs didn’t mind helping the boy, but it brought up the question of how such an awkward child came to be recruited by the Specials in the first place. Cadet Marquise called out instructions to the boy in a low, even tone so as not to cause undue embarrassment.

"Remember to brace yourself with your left foot, Walker…yes, like that…good. Continue." Zechs lowered his voice and added a comment for Noin’s ears only. "That boy is going to get creamed."

"He’s not that bad. I think he just needs a little extra attention."

"Perhaps you’re right."

Noin pocketed her book and glanced at her watch. "I guess we should let them off the hook for today. Meet you at the homestead later?"

"Sure."

"You’re going to bring it, right?"

"As ordered, Miss Noin."

Noin called her group to attention and dismissed them. Zechs followed suit and called Walker back. The young cadet saluted nervously.

"Yes, sir?"

Zechs tried to soften his expression, aware of the fact that he seemed very intimidating to the younger cadets. "At ease, Cadet Walker. I just wanted to ask if you have some free time? We could work on your defensive techniques."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir…I’m sorry I’m so slow, sir. I’m sure with practice…"

Zechs put a hand on the boy’s shoulder to quell the cadet’s nervous chatter. "It’s fine, Walker…and you don’t have to call me sir after every sentence."

"Yes, sir."

Zechs smiled at that and proceeded with the lesson. They worked together for an hour, Zechs patiently drilling the younger boy on the basic moves until Walker was comfortable with his ability to perform each adequately. He was an eager pupil, if not instantly proficient. Zechs admired the twelve-year-old’s tenacity and began to recognize potential in the cadet. If all of his first years were as eager as this cadet, Zechs’ team would be first in all events. It would take hard work and extra help, but Zechs was certain Walker would prove to be a good soldier eventually. The older boy ended the lesson with a friendly pat on the back.

"Good job, cadet."

The two agreed upon a time for their next practice session. A grateful Walker saluted his superior with sincere thanks. Having made quite a bit of progress under Cadet Marquise’s guidance, Walker mustered up enough courage to ask for another favor.

"Excuse me, sir? I mean, Cadet Marquise?" Zechs paused and turned back to the younger boy. "I was wondering…I’m having some trouble in another subject," Walker pulled a textbook from the stack at his feet, "I was wondering if you could explain…"

"No," Zechs interrupted, knowing his teaching skills did not extend beyond battle tactics, "but I know someone who can." He waved Walker over and they started across the quad. They paused briefly at the cafeteria door where Cadet Marquise picked up a small paper bag from one of the kitchen staff. He subtly passed a small wad of money to the cook and pocketed the small bag. As curious as he was, Walker did not venture to ask as they started off down a wooded path leading away from the base.

It was only a ten minute walk from the campus, but it seemed interminable to Eliot Walker. He was a clumsy, shy boy and the smallest in his class…even smaller than the girls. He wanted so much to be in the Specials, to serve His Excellency, but his awkwardness and timidity seemed always to hold him back. He knew, deep down, that he could be a good officer if he could just get past his self-consciousness. It seemed to Walker that everyone was always one step ahead or one second faster. It didn’t help his self-esteem any when he was assigned to Cadet Marquise. The older boy was the top cadet in the school, always at ease, graceful, smart…everything Walker endeavored to be. His inadequacies seemed amplified by the towering figure of Zechs Marquise. As the youngest son of a minor duke, Eliot was often overlooked. He was not destined to inherit his father’s title or his mother’s lands, so nothing much was expected of him. He desperately wanted to change that, to be somebody.

Even now, as they walked along in silence, Walker was painfully aware of his shortcomings. Cadet Marquise’s stride was easy and unconcerned, while Cadet Walker stumbled along with an armload of precariously balanced textbooks, trying desperately not to trip. To his great relief, they arrived at their destination without incident. He stopped outside a dilapidated house, looking on curiously. Who on Earth could Cadet Marquise possibly be meeting here? The taller boy ducked through the doorway and Walker hesitantly followed. After a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the low light, the young cadet looked about. It was actually rather tidy, he noticed, not at all what he might have expected based on the house’s outward appearance. The floor was immaculate and there were several pieces of worn, but presentable, pieces of furniture set about the small room. The windows on the opposite wall were covered with curtains. Frilly curtains, to be exact. Made of pink gingham. Walker raised an eyebrow and glanced over at his cadet commander.

"Hello. I see you’ve brought a guest."

The sound of a female voice startled the boy enough that he almost dropped his books. Kneeling by the spacious hearth was Cadet Noin. Well, that explained the curtains.

"Walker was having some trouble with class work. I was hoping you might help him."

"Of course. After we eat, I’ll be happy to help." Miss Noin smiled prettily at Walker, who blushed and started to salute. The books he carried began to topple, but were deftly caught by his companion. Cadet Marquise stacked the books neatly on a small table and led Walker to the fireplace.

"Did you bring it?" Miss Noin grinned at her friend as she stirred a large pot hanging over the fire.

"Yes…you owe me, though. It took all the money I won from Johnny in our last game of billiards." Zechs replied as he pulled a small paper bag from his pocket and tossed it to the girl.

"Hey, I’m cooking. Next time I buy and you cook, then we’ll be even." She opened the bag and pulled out a small jar filled with green leaves. She opened it and sniffed. "Ah…fresh oregano…perfect." She shook some into the soup. "This should be ready in a little while. Have a seat, boys."

Walker sat nervously on the edge of a straight-backed chair while his student commander eased into a comfortable-looking arm chair nearby. The younger boy watched as the other two chatted amiably about the day’s events and other trivialities. It was a bit of a surprise for Walker, watching the two best cadets at the Academy chatting over a soup pot. It was especially surprising to see the normally stern teenagers behaving with such, well, domesticity. It was not something he expected to see of anyone in the Specials. Their lives were about discipline, honor, duty. True, His Excellency did everything to encourage the pursuit of leisure activities, particularly for prospective officers, but attending balls and receptions was far different from creating this cozy little home in the forest.

Walker watched the two talk for a time, not really paying attention to the conversation, merely enjoying the novelty of a family-like atmosphere. Watching Miss Noin cook and seeing Cadet Marquise sprawled comfortably in a chair reminded him of all the evenings he used to spend in the kitchen of his father’s mansion. Walker was never comfortable attending his parent’s elaborate social gathering, preferring to spend the evening with the servants. In many ways, their old butler and housekeeper were more parents to the young boy than his own. Walker suddenly yawned and quickly clamped his hand over his mouth in embarrassment. He was relieved to note that neither of the older cadets seemed to notice. He tried to straighten himself up and pay attention, but after a few more moments of dreamy reminiscence, Walker nodded off. He awoke about twenty minutes later to find himself lying on the threadbare sofa. He sat up quickly, rubbing his eyes and trying to shake off his lingering sleep.

"Feel better?" Miss Noin’s soft voice drifted over from another chair by the fire.

"I, uh…sorry, I didn’t…"

"Don’t apologize, Walker." Zechs shifted in his chair to look over at the boy. "You worked hard today. That takes a lot out of a body. Come have something to eat."

Zechs handed the boy a bowl of steaming soup as he spoke. Walker began gulping the hearty fare down, barely pausing to chew. He hadn’t realized how very hungry he was until he caught a whiff of the marvelous stuff. He drained the offering quickly and sat looking at the empty bowl, still too shy around his heroes to ask for more. Miss Noin smiled and filled the bowl, playfully commenting on what a compliment Walker paid her cooking. The boy’s full stomach bolstered his confidence and he finally joined the conversation. As strange as it seemed to share a meal with such respected students, he found himself feeling at ease.

After dinner, Miss Noin fulfilled her promise to help Walker with his studies. She patiently explained the troublesome passages and answered every question with ease. Under her gentle tutelage, Walker began to finally understand what two professors and three tutors had not been able to explain. Later that evening, as the three walked back to campus, Walker realized he wasn’t nervous anymore. He felt himself grinning like the child he was, but didn’t care. For the first time since his arrival at Lake Victoria Academy, Eliot Walker felt as though he might make it through. He finally felt as though he had accomplished something, become something.

Walker was proud of himself.

==========================

"DAMN!"

Johnny screamed at nothing in particular as he struggled with the crimson mobile suit. Once again the suit lurched dangerously towards the target, straining against Johnny’s control. It was almost as though the evil machine had a mind of its own, struggling to free itself from the pilot’s grasp and take its own path. The aviator growled in frustration as he fought against the onslaught of information pouring into his brain from the operating system. He always had to fight that damned thing for control and usually lost. Not this time.

"The hell you aren’t!"

"Screw you!" Johnny shrieked as he wrenched the suit around. It took every ounce of his strength to do so and still maintain control.

Johnny took a deep breath and made a fateful decision. He let go. He gave in to the persistent and insistent call of the mobile suit and let the mysterious operating system take over. He listened for once, really listened to the machine, allowing the tide of information to wash over his brain and replace his conscious mind. Cold efficiency replaced passionate instinct. Johnny quickly dispatched every target within the span of a few moments. The machine showed him how to do it, what it would be like to accomplish the task as it saw fit, not as planned. It showed Johnny many things, many enemies, many obstacles. It also showed him what it would be like to destroy every one of those enemies and obstacles. Some of those obstacles were just below him now. All he had to do was turn around and make one more pass…

"What in Heaven’s name is he doing?"

Treize stood observing his brother’s test flight. A few moments before, he had been pleased to see Johnny proficiently decimate the targets. Now, however, the top OZ pilot was making a sudden turn and bearing down on the testing grounds. It looked as though…

"Give me a comlink!" Treize barked at the technicians nearby with more emotion that any of them had witnessed in their normally serene commander. One technician scurried up with a head set. His Excellency hastily put the contraption on and opened the mike to his brother.

"Johnny. It’s me."

Johnny almost didn’t notice the soft, calm voice emerging from the communication panel. The voice of the machine almost drowned it out. It took a moment for the voice to register.

"Treize?"

"Yes, Johnny, it’s Treize."

"Johnny, what are you doing?"

"Johnny? Are you there?"

"Brother?"

Johnny’s breath caught in his throat. His mind was reeling. He didn’t know what to believe, who to listen to. He let out a plaintive cry and pressed a hand to his heart.

"Brother, it is time to come home. Set the suit down and come home."

"Treize?" Johnny’s voice broke as he spoke. He didn’t know what was real anymore so he latched on to the only thing he recognized. His brother’s voice.

"Yes, come home."

Treize watched the crimson machine come to a rough stop in the middle of the testing grounds. He started for the mobile suit quickly and ordered the medical team to follow. His Excellency was the first to reach the craft and grasped the lift cable. The hatch popped and hissed to life, opening slightly just as the young duke reached the top. He used his foot to push the door open all the way and knelt at the entrance. Johnny sat slumped in the pilot’s seat, listless and silent. Treize grasped the young man’s helmet and gently removed it, revealing a dazed, expressionless face.

"Johnny?"

Clouded eyes peered up weakly.

"Come on," Treize ordered gently as he unfastened the restraints, "I think you’ve earned a vacation, brother."

Treize pulled the younger man out of the pilot’s seat an helped him down, all the while speaking softly and supporting his brother’s weight. Johnny did not speak. He simply kept his eyes on his older brother, seeming to concentrate only on the sound of Treize’s voice. As the two made their way to the medic van, the suit continued to hum menacingly. The technicians and engineers stepped away from the demonic device, afraid now to stand too close. The front sensor array pulsated rhythmically, glowing almost like the eye of a Cyclops. It almost looked alive.

==========================

Noin clutched her head and sank to her knees. She began to feel strange during her daily exercise and decided to quit early. She was near the landing strip, at Hanger 2 waiting for Zechs when one of her headaches came upon her. It was more sudden and violent than any headache she had ever experienced. The burst of voices and suppressed imagery invading her mind took her off guard and she called out. She gritted her teeth against another scream and tried to breath through the pain and confusion, but her breathing technique wasn’t working. Something was different about this episode. The images were clearer, the voices more distinct.

A memory pushed forward into her conscious mind, covering the cacophony of image and sound. She was running on the beach with Zechs, in Livorno. No, it wasn’t Zechs. It wasn’t Livorno. It wasn’t right. She was too old. The man she was running with was too old. He turned to her, laughing. The sun shone too brightly behind him. She couldn’t make out his face…but she could hear his voice…and her own. But it wasn’t right. She sounded too old.

Noin grunted as the scene faded to black, only the lingering voice whispering to her.

Noin staggered to her feet and ran. There was no sense in her running, somewhere she realized that, but the unexpected clarity of her ‘memory’ was more than she could bear. The scene in her mind’s eye changed once again. It was the past once again, but a more recognizable and terrifying piece. She remembered the other boy. The one she assumed to be her brother. Only…he wasn’t dead. It was dark again, she couldn’t see anything, but she could hear—no, feel—his voice in her mind.

"I’m here."

Noin ran faster as tears began to stream down her face. She ran blindly, eyes closed, hands to her head. She ran into someone and knocked them both to the ground. In her confusion, she began to call out to the other boy, afraid they were being separated. She heard other voices, grown ups shouting. They wanted to make her go away. She started to scream. She felt the boy calling for her.

"Nicht macht! Halten sie!"

"Stop what? Noin?" Zechs managed to get to his knees and pulled Noin to a sitting position. She was frantic. He hadn’t seen her in such a state since she was six. He grasped her shoulders. "Noin! It’s me, it’s Zechs."

He gave her a little shake as he spoke, but Noin stubbornly kept her eyes closed. Her hands were still clamped to the sides of her head as though keeping her head from breaking in two. He placed his own hands over hers in an irrational attempt to ease her pain. She continued to babble incoherently, switching from German to Italian without logical pause. Zechs strained to make out what she was saying, hoping to figure out what was happening. His German was terribly rusty and Noin spoke to quickly for him to make out much of what she did say in Italian. Her words tumbled out in a rush, phrases tripping over each other in their hast to escape her mouth. He ascertained only a few recognizable remarks, but these only concerned him more. None of it was making sense.

Noin suddenly seemed to calm slightly and Zechs seized the opportunity to set her on her feet again. He collected the textbooks strewn at his feet and tucked them back into his bag. He gripped Noin’s shoulders and gently guided her away from Academy grounds and towards the wooded area just beyond the air strip. He struggled with his decision to take her to the homestead instead of the infirmary, but he knew Noin would never forgive him for such an act. She needed a chance to calm down in a quiet place, far away from prying eyes. The short walk seemed much too long today as a worried Zechs led his friend to the relative privacy of the little stone house.

Noin sat on the sofa while Zechs fetched some cool water, standing uncertainly over her as she drank. He hadn’t been this concerned about anything other than revenge in a long time. He knew he should have said something to her about her episodes sooner, but he had been too caught up in his studies. She had seemed all right. Then again, she was much better at hiding her headaches than she had been when they were small children. For all Zechs knew, Noin might have been having these episodes every day.

"Noin…"

"I’m fine." Noin attempted a tired smile as she handed the empty glass back to her friend. He frowned down at her in disbelief. "Really, I’m fine."

"All the same, I think you should take a nap."

"A nap? What am I in kindergarten?"

"Humor me." Zechs spoke firmly, but gently, indicating he would brook no opposition on the matter. He removed his cadet uniform jacket and wadded it into a ball, offering it for a pillow. She stretched out and closed her eyes obediently. Within a few moments, she was drifting off to sleep. Zechs sat across from her in relief. He observed her for some time, concerned that a nightmare would interrupt her quiet slumber. He watched as Noin’s breaths grew steady and slow, her muscles visibly relaxing as she flowed deeper into sleep. She looked peaceful now. Zechs tilted his head to look at her face. Untroubled. Nothing to indicate what had upset her only a short while ago.

An idea sprang to mind as Zechs gazed upon his sleeping friend. He pulled out his sketchbook and a pencil. The soft lead traced the outline of Noin’s figure with expert grace, leaving the imprint of a lovely young woman in its wake. Zechs still enjoyed drawing, but found little time—and even less inspiration—to do so. The perfect pose Noin unconsciously formed was too intriguing to pass up. He became absorbed with the sketch, glancing up with an expert eye and rendering the details of his work with ease. It was about an hour later before he paused to sharpen the dulled nub of his pencil. Noin began to stir and sat up groggily. Seeing her companion with his sketch pad, she craned her neck to see what had entranced him so.

"Can I see?" Noin asked sleepily as she rubbed her eyes.

Zechs glanced up at her then back at his sketch, for the first time he really looking at his portrait of Noin. She was stretched out as she had been a moment ago, but in his drawing Noin was lying on a wrinkled sheet. Her shirt was rumpled, as it was even now, but he took the creative liberty of moving it off her shoulder in his sketch, revealing a tempting glimpse of the girl’s collarbone and just beyond. He had taken great care with her facial features, from the fullness of her lips to the stray lock of hair falling across her closed eyes, every detail was meticulously rendered. One leg was crossed over the other, but Zechs had chosen to omit the shorts and instead continued the curve of Noin’s leg up to the hem of the shirt. She was completely covered where it counted most, but still…

"No. It’s not finished." He answered, abruptly flipping the cover over the sketch and shoving it in his bag.

Noin shrugged and ran her fingers through her hair, yawning. "How long was I out?"

"Not that long…how are you?"

The quiet concern in his voice made Noin look up. "I’m o.k., Zechs, really. I," Noin looked away again, embarrassed. "I’m sorry you had to see me like that."

"Don’t be silly." Zechs spoke with some annoyance in his voice. "Why didn’t you tell me things were getting so bad?

Noin didn’t answer immediately, instead she just looked at her friend. He was leaning forward, elbows on knees, peering at her with those piercing blue eyes. He was worried and frustrated. After a moment, Noin found she could no longer hold his intense gaze and turned away.

"It’s never been that bad…until today."

"What was different about today?"

His voice was gentle now and Noin looked up. The light streaming in through the window cast a shadow in front of the young man and Noin started. Her reaction prompted Zechs to stand and walk over, kneeling in front of her. They did not speak for several moments and Noin carefully avoided eye contact. She wasn’t certain how to answer his question. She didn’t really understand what was different about today. As she tried to analyze the situation, Noin dipped her head forward, allowing her dark bangs to tumble forward and provide a shield against her friend’s persistent gaze. Zechs reached forward and pushed her hair back. His hand lingered on the side of her head as his eyes bore into hers. As usual, his expression betrayed nothing. Noin, however, could see the distress that her condition caused. The firm set of his jaw indicated he was clenching his teeth. He was worried. A slight frown creased his forehead. He was confused. Beyond all of that lay another layer of emotion. Something she recognized as easily as her own face in the mirror, but could never put a name to. It was something they had shared since the day Zechs found her alone in the forest. Noin stared into his eyes, taking in as much of that comforting feeling as she could.

"Who was the boy you were calling for?"

"What?" Noin jerked a bit, startled. What had she said? It was all beginning to fade again. The boy, running on the beach…she was forgetting again.

"You were talking too fast for me to catch everything, but I heard you call for a boy. I thought you meant me at first, but…"

Noin looked down at the boy in front of her. The boy who reminded her of the sunlit sky. Cloud-white hair, blue eyes as clear as the sky after a storm, warm skin with just a hint of healthy brown glow. Zechs was sunlight and clean air. The other boy reminded her of cold darkness, pale flesh, lifeless eyes. She tilted her head slightly, leaning into her friend’s hand. His palm was warm, she could imagine the flow of blood pulsating through the veins of his fingers and beginning the journey back through his arms into his heart and out again. She could detect the faded scent of soap. Everything about him was real, tangible, unlike the other boy, who only existed in twisted memories. This boy was alive. Most importantly, this boy wouldn’t leave her alone. They stayed like that for a little while before Zechs hesitantly withdrew his hand and renewed his question.

"Who was he Noin? Can you remember anything?"

"I think he was my brother, but I’m not sure. He was already dead when I woke up."

"You mean when…"

"Yeah."

"Were you remembering when he died? Is that what upset you so?"

Noin closed her eyes briefly and took a breath, trying to draw back something from the episode, something that would make sense. The problem was that none of it made sense. The images were clear, the voices audible, but none of it made sense.

"Do you think it’s some kind of repressed memory trying to come out?"

Noin frowned. The thought had occurred to her on more than one occasion, but something about the memories just didn’t seem right. It was as though she were looking inside someone else’s mind.

"I don’t know, Zechs. It’s almost like watching a movie, you know? Like I’m watching someone else’s life or …or like watching a tape that’s been erased but some of the recording is still there…" She gave up and held her head in her hands. "Oh, I don’t know. It’s never made any sense."

Another moment of silence followed. Noin massaged her temples absently and tried to clear her head.

"Noin," Zechs began rather awkwardly, "why didn’t you ever tell me about the other boy?"

"I couldn’t."

"I see." His low tone told her he didn’t see at all. He seemed rather hurt by it, actually. Noin sighed and tried to explain.

"It hurt too much…and I don’t just mean my headaches. The only person I ever spoke to about the boy was Captain Damon."

"I understand." Zechs smiled slightly this time and touched Noin’s arm, then stood. "You want to hang out here for a while? I could go scrounge something up for supper and be back in ten."

"Sounds great."

"I might even manage a chocolate bar or something."

"Ohhh, that would be lovely!" Noin’s mouth watered at the prospect of feeding her chocolate addiction. "Forget the real food! If you can score a chocolate bar, I’ll be your best friend."

Zechs looked over his shoulder as he walked to the door, smiled broadly and ducked out.

=============================

"You have your orders, lieutenant. Any questions?"

"No sir!"

The young officer saluted and exited the lush office of Treize Kushrenada. As soon as the young man left, Treize sat down and poured himself a drink. He mulled the current problem over his glass of wine and sighed. He had just ordered that the damnable red suit be shipped to his private estate in Luxembourg, as far away from Johnny as Treize could manage without revealing the suit’s existence to the OZ hierarchy. It was not an easy decision to make, but Treize was determined to preserve the suit and his brother. Johnny’s last encounter with the strange machine almost cost him his sanity. It was still precarious, but the younger Kushrenada brother did seem to be in better spirits now that he was no longer under the influence of the suit’s operating system. Hopefully, Johnny would be back to his wise-cracking self soon.

A knock at the door jolted Treize from his ponderings. "Enter."

"Sir, this letter just arrived."

Treize sighed. "Give it to my secretary like all the rest."

"I’m sorry sir, but it was sent registered, from colony X-18999. It’s marked ‘urgent,’ sir."

The mention of colony X-18999 caused the duke to pause mid-sip. He held his hand out to receive the document and dismissed the servant. Setting his wine on a near by table, he sat back and perused the envelope. It was fine engraved stationary, the kind wealthy patrons insisted on using despite the practicality of electronic communication. No return address, written in a neat, feminine hand. Treize hesitated a moment before carefully opening the delicate paper. He fingered the stationary fondly a few seconds, trying to muster enough courage to unfold the document and read what she had to say.

Treize sat in stunned silence, staring at the paper in his hand. His eyes lingered on one word. Daughter. He had a daughter. He and Leia. The shocked man retrieved the envelope and looked inside for the photograph. It was a small snapshot, but the image was clear. Leia--beautiful, angelic Leia—standing in a park, under the shade of a large oak. Cradled in her arms was a tiny copy of herself. Tousled red hair, pink skin, joyous smile…all in perfect imitation of her mother. Except the child stared into the camera with his eyes. Treize picked up his wine glass and drained it in one gulp. A child. His child.

The young duke traced the outline of the child’s cherubic face. She was lovely. Truly very lovely. And she was part of him. A small corner of his soul, the tiny part that allowed the possibility, leaped for joy. He was only twenty, but felt and acted twice that. Unlike most young men his age, Treize was well prepared for the responsibility of fatherhood. A daughter. A little princess to spoil and adore. His mother would have been thrilled to have a granddaughter and namesake. Treize stood and began pacing the length of his office, imagining all the wonderful gifts he could shower on the child. He passed a large cabinet and caught a glimpse of his reflection in the polished glass. He froze.

The sight of his formal Specials uniform brought the young man crashing back to reality. He was commander of the Specials, next in line to command OZ and Romefellar. It was not in his destiny to be father to this child. It couldn’t be in his destiny. One reason Treize insisted on recruiting orphans was to prevent the ties of blood from casting a shadow over OZ’s purpose. In his case, the complications of a family were a detriment to his ability to lead effectively. He had to be free of all ties, free of the possibility for coercion. He had enemies, within and without. The Alliance, The Colonies, even in Romefellar. If any of them found out he had a child…Not only would his little princess be in danger, Treize would have a weakness. If he was to cleanse the world of its warring ways, to create a safe and orderly society for his child to grow up in, Treize needed to act without worrying about the consequences to any one person.

"Forgive me, Leia…my beloved little Mairemaia."

Treize gazed at the photograph for several moments, then picked up the letter, crumpled it and set in an ashtray. He picked up an ornate silver lighter and set fire to the paper. He watched the paper flare brightly and begin to die out. He held the photo near the flame, ready to render it a pile of ash as well, but pulled it away. Surely it would not hurt to keep the photograph. If he kept it with him at all times, there was no chance his enemies might discover it. After all, to do so they would have to search his person, not something that was likely to happen unless His Excellency was killed. Then it would be useless.

He tucked the small snapshot inside his uniform pocket and left.

==============================

" ‘Weakness gives birth to strength,’ " Lucretzia Noin read aloud from a little book in a frustrated tone of voice, "What. Ever." She slammed the small book shut and stared at it. Well she was about as weak as they come, she decided, so she ought to be pretty damned strong any minute now. She sat on a small outcropping of rock at the summit of Mount Elgon, northwest of Lake Victoria Academy. The discouraged cadet wore full battle gear, which looked a little worse for wear, and sat with a paint rifle at her feet. War games were over, the other cadets made their way down the mountain hours ago, including her own team, and here she sat. Defeated. She lost.

Noin had planned everything so carefully. The week prior had been spent in last minute preparation for the battle. Her team was found on the practice field as often as the other three, but what no one else saw were the extra meetings in small groups, the off time spent pouring over maps, the careful assignment of duties. She had her team well versed in her battle strategy. The day before maneuvers, the other three groups were frantically squeezing in extra practice time, drilling incessantly. Her team was sent to their quarters to get sleep. When the rest of the campus was in bed, her team slipped out and began to implement Noin’s plan. Fake maps with wrong markings, uniform markers from the other teams, and other small deceptions were the crux of her strategy. Several small teams were sent ahead to ensconce themselves around the mountain. At just the proper moment, they would appear, just out of firing range and pretend to be scouts for the opposing groups on their way to meet up with their teammates. Ideally, their opponents would follow, hoping to annihilate the enemy before reaching the summit. Maps with fake battle strategies were "dropped" in various locations, also meant to lead the others astray. While the other three teams were trying to decimate each other, Noin’s team, split up into several smaller units, would sneak up the mountain, retrieve the flag and sneak back down. She hoped to be the one to take the flag, but as long as it was one of her teammates, she didn’t really care. It was working beautifully too, until something happened.

Actually, Zechs happened. Noin had indeed managed to lead her part of the team to the flag and was within a few feet of the clearing when she was confronted by the top cadet himself. At least he was the top cadet, now. She just lost her ranking. By now, Zechs would be basking in the glow of victory, proudly praised by His Excellency and adored by the student body. Noin hadn’t bothered to accompany her team back down the mountain. It didn’t matter who came in second. There was victory and defeat. No trophies for almost. Besides, she was dead. For the tenth time in as many minutes, she looked down at the obnoxious red blotches on her shirtfront. Three perfect spots right in a row. She ground her teeth in frustration and embarrassment. It was her own fault, she knew that, but she was pissed at him anyway.

A few feet from the flag and she stopped short, spying Zechs Marquise sneaking up from a different angel. Had she taken aim and shot at that moment, victory would have been hers, but Noin was having too much fun. She whistled instead. Zechs whirled around, gun raised and stared down the barrel of her own weapon. She smirked and started to say something cute, but her statement was cut short by three shots in rapid fire succession. Without another word Zechs retrieved the flag and led his team back down. Noin was officially out of the game. She couldn’t even order her team to leave. Thankfully she had prepared for that contingency, placing a cadet in charge of each individual group and issuing a standing order to retreat if she fell. So, here she was, several hours later, basking in the humiliation. She hated losing, even to Zechs, but that was only part of her problem. She could deal with the losing, even losing because of a stupid miscalculation on her part, but it was how she lost that infuriated her. She didn’t simply suffer defeat at the hands of another cadet, Zechs humiliated her in the process.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spied another cadet emerge from the trees and approach. She could tell who it was without actually turning to look. His gait was fluid, confident. He walked with his broad shoulders straight, his long legs easily covering the distance between them. She didn’t look up when he came to a stop a foot away. The sun was behind him again. She didn’t care to look up at his hair glowing golden in the sunlight. She didn’t care to look into his clear blue eyes or accept his strong hand in a sportsmanly shake. Zechs could just stand and stare all he wanted. Noin had no intention of acknowledging him after what he did.

"It was a good plan," Zechs finally ventured.

Noin sat staring at the little volume in her hands, rubbing a thumb across the title. She gave no indication that she intended to answer. A month ago, Zechs would have been glad of her silence. Then again, a month ago, he would not have come in search of her. Strange how much things had changed. The young man stepped forward and stood looking down at his friend. At least, he hoped she was still his friend. They were still working on building a new friendship, re-learning all of the little quirks and foibles each possessed. He sometimes had trouble figuring Noin out. Not often. In some ways, she was still very much the girl Zechs once knew, but she had grown up quite a bit. Her attitudes and demeanor changed. She didn’t giggle anymore. She didn’t depend on him so much. Zechs was glad of most of the changes, particularly her new-found sense of independence, but part of him missed the little girl who used to impulsively fling her arms around him when he least expected.

Zechs stood over her for a few minutes. He was beginning to feel uncomfortable, like he should leave, but he didn’t want to leave. He wanted everything to be all right again. Treize might be right about their destinies, but Zechs couldn’t see how the brave, brilliant girl in front of him could possibly be a weakness. He watched Noin slip the book into her pocket and again tried to engage her in conversation.

"It almost worked, you know…" Still silence. "…if we hadn’t discussed your book the other day, I wouldn’t have figured out what you were planning…"

"So you were pumping me for information on my battle plan?" Though pleased that Noin finally responded, her tone almost wish for the silence to return.

"Of course not. I just meant that I remembered what you said that day and an elaborate ruse seemed very like you…"

"What do you mean by that? I can’t fight properly, so I resort to tricks?"

"I didn’t say that!"

Noin suddenly looked up at him and, without remark, drew her paint gun and casually fired three shots. One shot burst against each of the boy’s knees and one splattered dramatically into his right shoulder. Zechs gritted his teeth and grunted as the projectiles struck. Though harmless, the paint pellets could potentially leave bruises and, when fired at such close range, stung like hell.

"There. Three shots. Three ‘wounds’ capable of disabling an enemy." She paused and frowned up at him. "Disable. You could have taken me out without killing me, we both know that."

"Yes. I could have, but my best chance at victory was to take you out completely."

"Perhaps." Noin’s reply was terse.

"Not ‘perhaps.’ I did what I had to in order to secure my objective." Zechs was beginning to get irritated himself. "The point of all of this was to simulate an actual mission. If I showed you any favoritism…"

"So if we were actually in that situation, you’d kill me?"

Zechs looked up at her, his anger beginning rise. "You’re just mad because you could have shot me first and you didn’t. You hesitated and I won."

"You think I’m jealous? Why you arrogant little..."

"I think you’re irritated with your own weakness. You let our friendship get in the way of your objective."

Noin looked away suddenly. Zechs watched the muscles in her jaw flex and relax as she ground her teeth. He was right, for once, and it irked the hell out of her. Normally, this would have amused him, but the boy didn’t like where the conversation was taking them.

"I have plans, Noin. I have to be the best to get what I want…" Zechs rubbed a hand across his chin and sighed, "Forget it. You wouldn’t understand."

"What you want is to demolish the Alliance…set fire to every soldier in a green uniform and watch them burn until there’s nothing left but a gray pile of smoldering ash." Noin turned back to him, her expression tight and eyes flashing with a rage Zechs had never seen. She spoke slowly, her voice full of purpose and cold fury. "I’ve lost just as much as you have, Milliardo Peacecraft. Don’t ever forget that."

Zechs held her piercing gaze, finally allowing himself to really see what he had denied for so long. The use of his birth name was enough to demonstrate her determination. She did want to fight--and she had just as much right. Noin’s priorities, however, were still wrong. She was still inclined to put her friends first, sacrificing her objective if necessary. She could never be the warrior he would be, nor did he wish it for her. It was his destiny to be damned, to be abhorred by every human being who survived him. Noin was the one who could rebuild and defend. He didn’t really want to discuss it just then, but he had to say it sooner or later. Sooner might be best.

"I’m glad we’re friends, please believe that…"

"But?"

Zechs took a breath and looked straight ahead. "But this has to come first. I have a chance to avenge my family. Destroying the Alliance has to come first."

"I know…"

He turned his head slowly and studied Noin’s expression. He hadn’t expected that. He expected an argument. A comprehensive list of reasons why that was the wrong attitude. Instead he met with sad resolution.

"…and I am going to help."

It was a statement, not a question. She wasn’t asking permission and was unlikely to take ‘no’ for an answer. Zechs felt relieved. He should try to talk her out of it, he knew that, but he once again found selfishness superceding the desire to spare Noin the difficulties ahead. She was stronger. He needed that strength. He needed her. Zechs smiled softly.

"Thank you."

Instead of replying with a smile of her own and acknowledging his appreciation, Noin continued to scowl at him. Obviously this was not yet finished.

"That still doesn’t excuse what you did, Zechs."

"I thought you said you understood."

"I do."

"Then why are you still mad?"’

"I understand why you shot me, but did you have to humiliate me in the process? In front of my team?!"

"What are you talking about?"

"You shot my…" she paused and crossed her arms protectively over her budding femininity, blushing lightly as she hunched over. "Never mind. It just hurt, all right?"

It took a moment for Zechs to comprehend what she was trying not to say. As the realization dawned on him, Zechs briefly glanced down to the paint splotches at Noin’s chest, specifically where those splotches were located, then wrenched his eyes forward again. He felt his own face grow warm. He had simply aimed for the middle chest, the kill zone. He hadn’t purposely shot her in the…well, there…but it was still embarrassing.

"I’m sorry…I didn’t do it on purpose."

Noin peeked at him from behind her hair and uncrossed her arms. "You didn’t?"

"I couldn’t have. I’m not that good a marksman," He paused, glancing at Noin. "I couldn’t possibly get a good aim at such small targets." His teasing was rewarded with a sharp punch in the arm.

"You creep." Noin failed miserably in her attempt to sound offended. "I can’t believe you said that." She was barely able to contain a laugh as her expression softened to one of amusement. "You honestly didn’t shoot me there just to embarrass me?"

"Honestly. I would never purposely humiliate you. Especially in front of other cadets."

Satisfied with his answer, Noin finally sat up straight and looked down at her chest. "Hey, if I’m lucky, maybe there will be some swelling."

"If you’re lucky, the nurse won’t mistake them for mosquito bites."

"Oh, that’s it, Lightenin’ Boy!" Noin laughed as she grabbed her paint gun and stood. "Prepare to defend yourself!"

Zechs allowed an actual smile to spread across his face, relieved that the fight was over. He stood and executed a formal bow. "To paraphrase your beloved Sun Tzu, A true warrior knows when to fight and when to retreat to fight another day…in my case simply live another day." He hesitated a moment before spinning on his heels and dashing off, with Noin in hot pursuit.

=============================

"Excellency? Is something wrong?"

Treize started at the sound of Lady Une’s low voice. "Not at all, Lady. I was just deciding what to offer. Would you care for some wine?"

"No thank you, sir."

Une watched Mr. Treize nod and proceed to pour himself a glass. The newly promoted major had been assigned to His Excellency’s executive staff for only three weeks. Her move to Specials headquarters in Luxembourg took some getting used to, but the young woman found she enjoyed the charm of the city. She enjoyed her new position as the duke’s chief of staff as well, but often found herself awkwardly sharing moments with her superior that had little to do with OZ. She was well aware of her employers reputation, especially with regards to women, but had only ever been treated with the utmost respect and confidence. On occasions such as this, however, Lady Une found herself uncertain of how to act, or more precisely, react to her commander’s social overtures. It didn’t help that Mr. Treize had been rather distant and moody for the last few days.

Major Une watched the young man before her as he prepared his drink and walked to the window. He was by far the most elegant man she had ever met. This alone was not enough to impress her. Elegance, after all, was as much a matter of practice as nature, but Mr. Treize also possessed that rare spirit of honor that seemed lacking in so many of their class. If she had not already committed herself to the ideals of OZ before they met, her introduction to the noble young man before her would have certainly cemented her dedication.

"Have we covered everything, Lady?"

Une remained silent for a moment, before realizing what he meant. "Yes, Excellency. I believe all of the important issues have been addressed."

"Good, then there is another matter I wish to discuss with you." He paused to return to the desk and refill his glass. "I was thinking of hosting a ball at Lake Victoria. A chance to introduce the new crop of officers to Romefellar."

"Excellent idea, sir. I’ll begin preparations immediately."

The young officers discussed the details. Treize chose the caterer and made suggestions as to music and appropriate décor as Lady Une diligently took notes. The basics set, they selected a date six months hence. Une was surprised that His Excellency did not wish to set a more urgent deadline, but was informed that a good ball takes time and a great ball takes at least half a year. A few more minor details were discussed and Une rose to leave.

"One more thing, Lady…"

"Yes, Excellency?"

"Attire will be formal," Treize paused to take a sip, "but no uniforms. Only the cadets will be in military attire."

Une responded with a slight nod and left the room. She started down the elaborate hall to her immaculately furnished office. No uniforms. Great. Just great. Now she had to go shopping. Une couldn’t imagine anything more insufferable than wandering through the boutiques of the city, searching for something that did not make her look like a Barbie doll or a cake topper. One reason she preferred to be addressed by her rank and not her title had to do with Une’s aversion to aristocratic social gatherings. She was a well-educated and accepted member of Society, in the old world sense, but she found as the years passed and war loomed that such grandiose displays of rank were not to her liking. Une was quickly learning to despise such frippery as unproductive and banal.

His Excellency would most likely counter that such pageantry was what the public wished to see, that it set Romefeller apart from the sterility of the Alliance. The aristocracy provided an escape. They were living fairytales in robes and tiaras, just what the world needed. The benevolence of the nobility would be embraced by a people weary of the cold, stark regulations imposed by the Alliance. Romefeller lived in excesses and the world loved them for it. Mr. Treize would insist on all of these points. Une could see the logic in His Excellency’s point of view, but had difficulty in embracing the idea.

But that was neither here nor there. At that moment, her biggest concern was finding a proper, and not exceedingly obnoxious, party gown.

================= End Chapter 5 =====================

AUTHOR’S NOTES

There is a surprise near the beginning of the next chapter that I think all Zechs/Noin worshippers will enjoy. Mushy Romantic Sap Alert. You’ve been warned.

Evidently Walker doesn’t have a first name, so I made one up.

I’m trying to develop the set up for Noin’s mysterious past and the origins of the equally mysterious crimson suit (yes, it is Epyon). Sorry to say, that none of this will actually be revealed until the last story in the series which is tentatively titled, "La Regina di Lila" (The Queen of Lilacs) or "Terra di Lila" (The Land of Lilacs). Both are from a suggestion by Timothy Thomasson (Thanks!). If you’d like to vote on which I should use, email me with an opinion.

Special thank you to Johnny Rage for helping me with this chapter and putting me on to a new research link. Did you know that there is actually a Lake Victoria in East Africa? And (luckily for me) there is a small mountain on one side, so my war games idea in worked. The lake, however, is several hundred miles wide, so I had to cut out a scene where they swim from one shore to the other.

Disclaimer: Did all you lawyers finish your assignment? No? Well, now you’ve done it. Oh Mr. Boo-Bear! The Lawyers are bothering me!

Mr. Boo-Bear: Wha? They botterin’ my lil Dante? GRRRRRR! BEWARE THE BOO-BEAR!!! GRRRRR[cough, cough, cough]RRRR!!