Zeta Gundam Fan Fiction ❯ Harbinger of Darkness ❯ Reflections ( Chapter 5 )

"This is an outrage!" Representative Linna Yamazaki cried over the microphone at the assembled delegation in an emergency meeting of the Diet of the Republic of Zeon. "Countless lives lost in a merciless attack by Federation thugs? Action must be taken!"

"For once, I agree with Representative Yamazaki," Marcus O'Day spoke up from his seat, "Action, indeed, must be taken. We must show the Federation that the people of the colonies are not to be trifled with thusly!"

Chancellor Fokker slammed his gavel to the podium. "I will have order in this hall!" he shouted to silence the general uproar that had arisen in response to Linna and O'Day's comments.

"But, what say you, Chancellor?" Linna called. "Clearly you see this transgression for what it is?"

"Of course I do, Representative Yamazaki," Fokker shrugged, "but what would you have me do about it? Surely you know how well the Federation listens to the decisions of this assembly."

"What about Axis?" another representative asked suddenly from the seat next to Linna's.

"Now there's an idea," O'Day commented, with a savage smile. "That's exactly what we should do."

A representative from one of the frontier colonies stood and was recognised. "But, wait a minute!" he said, "We've maintained ourselves as an independent entity from Axis for over five years. Even in the dark times of the Delaz Fleet Scare back in '83, we still remained staunchly separate. To come crawling to them for support now…how would that make us look?"

"This is not the time for pride, representative!" O'Day snarled, causing the other man to cringe. "Fellow colonists being outright butchered before our very eyes, and you speak to me of how it would look? Are you really that self-conscious? That self-centred?"

Linna stepped in. "But, he has a point, though, Representative O'Day. It may not be a matter of pride, but it is a matter of National Integrity; if we were to allow Axis free reign back in this sector of the Earth sphere, they may ultimately be able to stage a coup against our Republic and bring back the terror of the dark days of the Duchy."

"Thank you so much for that wonderful exercise in extrapolation and fantasy, Ms. Yamazaki, but do try and remember that that kind of talk is reserved for dime novels and tabloids." Half of the assembly broke into a fit of laughter at O'Day's venomous sarcasm.

Linna waxed crimson. "But, still…" she tried.

"Maybe the best way to go is somewhere in the middle ground?" Paige Rhome spoke up. "You know, like sending a few hundred thousand credits to one of those new Anti-Federation groups that've sprung up recently?"

"That might work," the representative from New Carthage, Nick Kimball, agreed. "That way we don't make any major commitment to a foreign power, and maintain our sovereign authority. No terrorist group has enough clout to overthrow the Republic Government."

"But which one to support?" somebody asked. "So many have popped up recently, and while we don't want to back a group that's too strong, we also don't want to back an outright loser"

"All of this is ridiculous!" O'Day cried. "We'd be wasting our time backing anyone but Axis, because none of those rebel groups have the power to last against the Titans! We need to re-establish ties with Axis and reunite the two factions of the former Duchy. That's the best chance we have of combating the Federation on equal terms."

Chancellor Fokker was shaking his head. "You are way out of line Marcus," he sighed.

"Why, Hans?" O'Day returned, forgetting to show proper deference in his anger, "Why is it so wrong to try and give ourselves the best possible chance to avenge those who died on the colony?"

"The little matter that it goes against everything in the Constitution that you helped to ratify, for starters," Fokker said, pointedly. "Would you have us put your plan to a plebiscite? I don't think the citizens of the Republic would be very pleased to know that you have the intent of resurrecting the Duchy, do you?"

O'Day said nothing, but fumed in bitter silence.

"I still think that Representative Rhome, was on the right track," Nick Kimball pressed on after being properly recognised. "In fact, I can even think of one organisation in particular for us to support: the Anti-Earth Union Group. It was pretty small up until right after the incident, but public sentiment and outcry saw a huge jump in their numbers. If my sources are correct, they are on their way to coming to primacy among the terrorist groups."

Linna had heard of the AEUG from leaflets and soapbox speakers in her neighbourhood. They seemed pretty radical, but lack of funding had kept them from becoming much more than a nuisance. Could they really make a stand against the Titans with a little money? Did they really have what it took?

"What are the goals of this organisation, Representative Kimball?" another, less well-informed delegate asked. "They aren't too radical, are they? What I mean is, even with their pockets lined, we will still be able to keep a leash on them, correct?"

Kimball shrugged. "I believe so, but it is difficult to see that far down the line. Some of the members have already made overtures to Anaheim looking for funding, and if that succeeded they could become very powerful indeed."

"Anyone who jumps in bed with Anaheim is automatically a force to be reckoned with," Paige commented.

Linna chose that time to step in and impart some of her knowledge of the subject. "But a lot of AEUG members are strong supporters of the Zeonic cause. Some are even former soldiers who chose to stay in the Republic rather than run off to Axis."

"True, but there are also former Federation soldiers among their ranks." O'Day jeered. "Chancellor, you cannot seriously be considering this ludicrous proposal?"

"To be honest, Representative O'Day, I was," Fokker said sharply. Turning to face Kimball, he continued, "However, the possibility of a collaboration between this group comprised of former Federation officers and such a massive economic hegemon as Anaheim makes me rather nervous. We don't want to feed this beast while its young only to have it turn on us when it's older."

"We don't have to decide right away on whether or not to give them money," Kimball pointed out. "All I'm asking now is that we establish favourable diplomatic relations with the AEUG."

"Even still!" one of O'Day's flunkies spoke on his behalf, "By going through with this plan of yours, we'd only be allying ourselves with the terrorists that your faction was so vehemently in opposition of earlier this year! I guess one man's terrorists really are another man's freedom fighters!"

Linna suddenly felt very foolish. The flunky certainly had pointed out the Emperor's new clothes there.

"Point of clarification," Paige rose and was recognised, "we are hardly such hypocrites as that. The purpose of our stance earlier in the session was against those who would carry out heinous acts in the name of Zeon and bring down the wrath of the Federation upon the people of the colonies. We have tried being rational; we have tried to open up talks with Jabrow; we have tried demonstrating peacefully, and all of these have fallen not only on deaf ears, but apparently on hostile ears. Upon the ears of thuggish fascists and their secret police watchdogs that unleashed the very fury we sought to avoid! For no reason at all, an entire colony has been liquidated! The time for talk and compromise is long past; it is time for action!"

She was met with thunderous applause that shook the very pillars of the Diet building.

"Damn!" Linna said quietly, "I guess democracy does have its perks."

"Well said, Ms. Rhome," a representative from Touroshina lauded. "I'd also like to point out, though, that the acts of this AEUG organisation will be carried out in their name, even if they do carry them out with Zeon monies. That was the problem we had with the other terrorists; that they were acting under the Zeonic flag, not out of some autonomous, concurrent goals."

O'Day's flunky now looked as though he wanted to sink into the floor. O'Day himself could only grumble, "Damned hypocrites," from his seat.

"Let's put it to a vote, then!" Linna said, with such sudden zeal that it surprised even herself.

"Will someone second?" Fokker asked.

"I will," Kimball rose.

"Very well then. All in favour of the motion to make diplomatic contact with the AEUG organisation, please respond by standing."

Roughly half of the Representatives stood, but as Fokker and his aids were counting the votes, Marcus O'Day rose from his seat and walked out of the main doors of the Diet hall. A few moments later, other members of his party followed his precedent and began to stream from the hall.

"The hell's going on?" Paige cried.

"They're going to try and filibuster, those arrogant pricks," Linna snarled.

"How can we stop them?" her friend asked.

Linna, like so many others in the hall, sat back down. "We can't. Since they make up about half of the assembly, we can't have a two-thirds vote. Now we have to table the motion indefinitely before it can be raised again."

"But…but…"

"It's not fair, I know, but there's nothing we can do. That's how the system works."

Paige sat fuming. "Dammit ta hell!" she raged just loud enough for Linna to hear her American Southern accent coming through.

Moments later, O'Day and his retinue decided to grace the hall again with their presence. "Interesting thing about that Constitution of ours," he almost laughed as he returned to his seat. "Funny thing is, had we decided not to return, this convening would have had to be dissolved until next year. Think of all the work that would have been wasted

Chancellor Fokker shook his head and sighed at the podium. It was obvious to the two women that he too had become thoroughly irate by O'Day's actions. "Very well then," he said in a curious mix of exasperation and anger, "we shall now revert to the order of the passage of bills. Mr. reader, the first on the docket, if you please?"

Linna didn't even hear the bill as it was read aloud, nor any of the others that were read during the course of the day either. She was far too deep in thought, and simply abstained from most of the votes.

All the while she could feel O'Day's smug satisfaction radiating from his seat, and caught him staring haughtily back at her whenever she flicked a glance in his direction.

Chancellor Fokker's final gavel rap came as something more of a mixed blessing than the chime of freedom it usually did. Though it allowed Linna an escape from O'Day's corruption and treachery, it offered little more than the promise of more of the same tomorrow.

"What's wrong?" Suddenly Paige was by her side as she walked down the steps and headed down to her car. "You look like you got the weight of the world on your shoulders."

Linna sighed. "It's not fair!" she practically whined. "We had such a good idea going and then that bastard O'Day and his damned flunkies…"

"I know, Sweetie," Paige said, putting a knowing hand on Linna's shoulder, "Damn, reactionaries. O'Day and his flunkeys are near-bout fascists themselves. Buck up though; we'll get another shot in a few weeks."

They stopped at Linna's car. "By then another colony might be decimated," she grumbled. "We can't let this keep going on Paige. And it's bad enough that we have to deal with the Titans and the Feddies, but with internal friction of the sort O'Day is propagating…How much longer do you think that this fledgling Republic can last?"

"As long as there are people like you willing to fight for it," Paige smiled. "I declare, Linna Yamazaki, you are unquestionably the most dedicated Patriot in that assembly. Ask anyone and they'll tell you the same."

"But still…"

"You're doin' the best you can! You have every sort of opportunity to try and advance personal agendas, but you always consider the needs of the People before yourself."

`That's what my father thinks is so foolish,' she thought, bitterly. Then aloud: "I guess you have a point there, Paige. I just wish I could do more for them. No one wants to return to the tyranny of the Zabi regime, but no one wants to be so weak that the Feddies can just walk in and have they're way with us. It's a precarious situation."

"That it is. Well, tomorrow is another day, and another round of playing congress. By the way," she had that infamous Paige Rhome smirk on her face, "did you see the way Nick was looking at you when you started going off on O'Day? Reckon he's sweet on you."

"Oh for Christ's sake, Paige!" Linna bristled, and slammed the door of her car. She drove off watching Paige laughing in her rear-view mirror.

She pulled out of the deck still fuming, but as she turned onto Garden Avenue, past the Diet building, she began to pursue a more introspective train of thought. How much would it bother her if Nick Kimball was, as Paige had so eloquently stated in her Southern drawl "sweet on her"? He wasn't a bad fellow, and she clearly was not getting any younger. When December rolled around she would see twenty-eight, shouting distance from thirty. Was that really a border she wanted to cross alone?

Mayhap she would give Representative Kimball a call sometime soon.

"Watch it, Trowa!" Asuka Soryu warned. "You've got to take it easy on them for now. You need to walk before you can run, remember?"

The two of them were in Major Trowa Barton's flat working on trying to make his leg muscles remember basic things like standing and walking. He had undergone an operation almost a week earlier and it had been a total success, but the hardest part, the physical therapy still lay ahead of him.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But, dammit Asuka, you don't know what this is like! To be up and around out of that Godforsaken chair for the first time in five years?"

"I know you're excited, but remember what the doctor said." She painstakingly helped him over to the couch where the two of them sat down. "You wanna watch some TV?" she asked, "I know this is a tough workout; maybe we'll rest a little?"

"Okay," he shrugged, "If you want to. Maybe there's a movie on or something."

She walked over and pressed the power button. "Actually I was hoping we might watch the news for a little while. I don't get the paper, and I do want to stay abreast of what's going on in the world."

"I'll tell you what I'd like to stay `a-breast' of," he smirked.

"Shut up!" she laughed and smacked him with a pillow.

"Ow! Hey, easy on the cripple! You said it, not me; `abreast'-that was just waiting for some sort of innuendo."

She smacked him again. "It's coming on, now shut up and let me listen."

"Yes ma'am," he said in feigned submission.

The newscaster was a sexy brunette who was wearing something that looked as though it belonged more in a nightclub than on the air in front of millions of viewers. `Anything for ratings,' Trowa thought, though no one could say that it bothered him.

"And our top story tonight," she was saying, "the mysterious epidemic that slashed through Side One's 30 Bunch colony, leaving all three million citizens dead in it's wake."

"Oh, I had heard about this," Asuka cut in, "It's terrible I think."

"Yeah, but isn't-wasn't-30 Bunch the place where they stuck all of those Zeon defectors after the War? Because, if it was, then maybe-"

"Come off it, Trowa, this isn't some sort of conspiracy. There was just an accident in the ventilation and some viral strain got loose in the populace."

"Well, let's listen to what the news-reporter has to say, Ms. `I-want-to-stay abreast-of-world-affairs'."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Asuka growled as they returned to watching in silence.

"Despite the best efforts of this station to attempt to bring the complete details of the incident, Federation officials are being rather curt in responses to petitions by all media sources. All we are able to say about the incident at this time is that the deaths were apparently the result of a malfunction in the air circulation vents during an epidemic of an undisclosed illness. Rest assured, though, we will have more on the story as events come to light. In other news…"

"See?" Asuka said, "I told you so!"

"Okay! You're right," he said that, but doubts still lingered in the back of his mind.

They watched several of the other stories without much occurrence. There was an interesting piece on the happenings in the Diet of the Republic of Zeon, and also a report on the emergence of a new anti-Federation terrorist group, the Anti-Earth Union Group. `Big deal,' Trowa thought, `just another bunch of no-account terrorists. The Titans'll have them stamped out in a few days.'

"Hey, Asuka," he began, after they had turned off the television, "what would you say if I said I was going to see about getting transferred-"

"Transferred?" she cut in, "Where? To some tropical island and a desk job I hope!" They weren't living together just yet, but they had been serious for quite some time, and if he was talking about moving to her, perhaps he might be hoping she might join him.

He took a deep breath. "That's not quite what I meant. See, there are a lot of new positions opening up in the Titans organisation-they're increasing their staff by almost thirty per cent from what I've heard-and they need officers. I was thinking I might quit the Army and join up with them."

"With the Titans?" She sounded shocked. "You'd join up with that outfit? Trowa, I don't know about that. Something about them rubs me the wrong way."

"They pay a lot better," he pointed out, "and there is the possibility of getting transferred to that South Pacific island paradise…"

"Yeah, but the Titans are a massive organisation. You're just as likely to end up in freaking Nome, Alaska! Or even worse, on Luna or one of the colonies!"

"You've never been to any of those places, Asuka, so how do you know they're all that bad? I've heard that some of the Lunar cities are at least as nice as New Tokyo and Paris, if not better!"

"You…you haven't already signed up, have you?" she asked cautiously.

"Of course not. I wanted to ask you first. This is an important decision, and if you really don't want me to get involved, I won't. I just want to be able to make you happy, and I thought that a bigger paycheck and…"

She put a finger to his lips and shook her head. "No, don't say another thing about it. This means a lot to you, I can tell, and I don't want you to give it up because of me. I mean, it's not like I'm the one joining up or anything. Just promise me one thing, and I'll follow you to the ends of the Earth: promise me that no matter what, no matter how far you go in this organisation, or how much money they offer to pay you, you'll always be the sweet guy I met at the bar in Melbourne. Don't let it change you, Trowa. That's all I ask."

She slowly removed her finger, but he kept gazing into her eyes. Something about what she had said had struck a chord with him in a way he didn't quite understand. It was almost as if she had seen into his heart, and offered that as a sort of prophesy. He felt rattled, but moved at the same time.

"O-okay. Sure, Asuka, I'll be sure to stay the same." He smiled at her, almost as much to relieve his own worries as hers.

She returned his grin and the light-hearted mood once again filled the room. "And the money from that first check better go to a ring, ya cheapskate."

"I'm working on it!" he groaned.

"Oh, so you still haven't bought one then?" apparently she had been testing him.

"No, wait, I mean…" Apparently he had failed.

"Good night, Trowa," she stood and left in such a huff that he could hardly tell if she was kidding or not.

As the door to his flat closed, he suddenly got the feeling that it had quadrupled in size. The silence overpowered him, and he quickly reached for the remote to the stereo system and clicked it on.

He breathed a sigh of relief as sound once again flooded the room. He had hated quiet before he had been flung from his mobile suit during the Battle of A Baoa Qu and had to spend over an hour in the complete silence of the vacuum. There had been nothing but the sound of his own laboured breathing and fatalistic inner monologue to keep him company as his air supply slowly ebbed.

He had nearly died that day, and the post-traumatic stress had left him with a veritable phobia of silence. The stroke he had suffered after going into oxygen depravation had also left him unable to walk. That was what his surgery had been for, an attempt to repair the damage to his brain and to help him begin to work his legs again. He had been offered the option of surgery by an earlier therapist at the beginning of his sessions two years ago, but he had barely been able to afford the therapy itself, much less any form of surgery, and his insurance people would have laughed at him if he had asked.

Finally though, he had managed to scrape the funds together to be able to afford it. It had helped when he had got his promotions, but it had still taken a long time.

Of course, in between working for the military and physical therapy sessions, his life had gone on since the war. Immediately after the armistice, he had been dating a young doctor by the name of Michelle Bannock. She'd been standing trial on charges of suspected treason and espionage. He'd stood by her through the whole ordeal, and had even been there when she was released three years later. In fact, he had been ready to go out and buy a ring at that point. But suddenly, and almost for no apparent reason, she had broken off the affair.

She wouldn't tell him why; one night they had gone to their favourite restaurant and she told him straight up, "I don't think I want to be with you anymore."

Trowa had been devastated. Once he got over the initial shock, he accused her of having another man; of wanting to go back to the noncom, Alex Kincaid, she had been infatuated with during the war.

She didn't even bother responding, she stood and kissed him, and left, almost in tears. This, of course, only fuelled his suspicions, and he had thought about tracking down that bastard Kincaid and killing him himself. Unfortunately nothing worked so easily, and with over eleven billion people living in the Earth Sphere, it would have been next to impossible to find him.

It wouldn't have solved anything anyway, he had realised a few days later. He could hardly make Michelle come back to him after he ghosted the man she had left him for. He was at a total loss, and so he did what any rational human being would do in the same situation:

He hit the bars.

It was actually fortunate that he did so after receiving his promotions, because he certainly would have never made Major as the alcoholic he became in those days. And yet, his habit while it critically harmed his career (he had made Major, but he had a snowball's chance in hell of making Lieutenant Colonel), it was actually the thing that led him to Asuka. That thing they say about God working in mysterious ways…maybe there was more truth to that than they let on.

He had been at a bar in Melbourne and had been drinking hard, when a loudmouthed civilian had begun making negative comments about the Federation Military, blaming them for the catastrophe that had befallen the North American region during Operation Stardust, and also for the fate of Torrington Base near the Gulf of Sydney. Needless to say, Trowa, and other soldiers with more than a few beers in them were not likely to take kindly to someone badmouthing their organisation. Again, they had done the logical thing to solve the problem: they started a brawl.

Trowa who had fought surprisingly well, for being confined to a wheelchair, was knocked out in the last few minutes of the battle, just as the sirens began to sound outside. Someone had come up behind him and pulled him from the chair and thrown him across the room. As he fell, he hit his head on a nearby table. He was out before he hit the ground.

The next thing he knew, he was lying supine on a soft bed with a damp rag across his forehead. Asuka had been watching the fight from a safe distance, and sat next to his battered form after it was over and the cops had started carting people off. In his groggy delirium, he had almost mistaken her for Michelle. Much to his chagrin, she was not.

Asuka wasn't offended though, especially after he explained what he had meant. In fact, she said how impressed she had been by his fighting despite his handicap, and told him that she had used that as an alibi when the police had come in-she had said that he was her handicapped brother who had happened to get caught up in the brawl.

"Why did you stick your neck out like that for me?" he asked later. "I was a perfect stranger!"

"I can tell about people," she had replied with a smile. "That and you were sorta cute."

After that, it was a very short time before they had firmly established themselves as lovers and as patient and client. Trowa actually felt better about this relationship than he had about his affair with Michelle. There was no overhead about an `ex' and he liked Asuka's bright and upbeat personality much more Michelle's serious and dour one.

Of course, that didn't mean that moments like this didn't come every so often; moments where he pined over lost love with his stereo playing Beethoven in the background.

But Asuka was right. His superiors at the base were indeed going to be royally pissed with him if he couldn't make a day. Torrington had recovered from the raid two years ago, but those test pilots were still an unruly mob and needed to be kept in line by a Major.

He sneezed again. Maybe he'd pick a drier night to read sonnets to her from now on. Some of his boys thought he was a fruit for doing so in the first place, but all of those guys were all single anyway, so he really didn't give a shit what they thought one way or another. Plus, she liked it; she thought it was a sign of class, and the chivalry that she so admired.

Lieutenant Alex Kincaid sat at the controls of the RMS-102 Hi-Zack. The cockpit was, in large part, similar to the GM he had flown during the war, but the exterior, and visual equipment were different enough to make him uncomfortable.

"Feels like I'm in a bloody Zaku," he muttered under his breath.

He and his squad were on patrol duty in Occupied Side Three, making sure that no trouble was brewing in the new Republic. It seemed almost a waste of time, though. The Zeeks had signed away their rights to bear any sort of arms when they accepted the Armistice of 0080, so it was unlikely that they would see any suit based combat.

Yet, complacency leads to disaster as the Delaz Fleet had proved back in '83. Since that time, the Federation Space Force, of which he was a part, and the paramilitary Titans, patrolled the shipping lanes and colonies with brutal thoroughness. Checkpoints had been set up all along trade routes into the Republic to be certain that the transports were only hauling goods and not weapons and terrorists. It slowed commerce to a trickle, but hostile actions against the Fed had decreased dramatically since their implementation, so everybody felt that it was a necessary sacrifice.

Everybody, that is, except the Zeeks.

"Hey, L.T.!" one of his subordinates, Ensign Dante Fiore, called out over the radio, "It's looking pretty calm out here to me. We ready to head back?"

Kincaid thought for a moment, but ultimately shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so. Doesn't look like we're going to have to fight today either."

"When have we ever had to fight, sir?" Warrant Officer Joanna Sparks sighed, sardonically. "Hell, the whole reason I joined the Space Force was to do some MS combat, but if I'd know I was getting shipped out for Occupation duty, I woulda thought twice about enlisting."

"Don't wish for that sort of thing, Sparks." Kincaid shook his head. "You kids were too young to fight in The War. You've got no idea how nasty MS combat can be."

"Come on, sir," Dante snorted. "Don't treat us like kids just cause we didn't fight in the '79 war. I took down three Zakus and a Dom during the shit that went down two years ago, remember."

"Did you fight during that mess, commander?" Joanna asked.

"Yeah. It got pretty bad there too, now that I think about it. But it still didn't rank up with A Baoa Qu. Solomon, maybe, but nothing could compare to A Baoa Qu."

"Did you ever fight against an Ace, back then?" she asked, "You know, like the Red Comet or the Black Tri-Stars?"

"Actually, I did fight against one: have you ever heard of the Nightmare of Solomon?"

"The Nightmare of Solomon?" Johanna gasped in disbelief. "The Ace pilot of the One Year War and Right Hand Man of the nefarious Aguille Delaz who single-handedly wiped out over two thirds of the Federation Spaceforce during Operation Stardust?"

"Jesus, did they write a bloody textbook on the guy?" Alex was shocked by how much she knew.

"Not a whole textbook, but a large portion of the History of Modern Warfare course at the Admiral Revil Spaceforce Academy in Jabrow is based on him and his tactics."

"Wow. But, yeah, I did fight against him. I didn't realise it until after the fact, though. One of my squad-mates and I were engaging a platoon of Zeeks on the surface of the asteroid, and he was at the head of it."

"Come on, L.T., stop shitting us," Dante sounded dubious.

"Honest to God I did," Kincaid spoke with the calm assurance of someone simply relating the facts of a story. "I didn't go one on one with him, like that idiot in the Gundam during Stardust, but my partner did. Those two are related actually, my partner and Lt. Uraki."

"L.T., we aren't supposed to talk about that guy, remember? And those `Gundams' don't exist, right?" Dante spoke nervously. You could never tell if your suit had a bug implanted by the Titans or not, but why risk it?

"Oh, right." Kincaid nodded, slightly embarrassed for forgetting such an important fact.

"What are you two talking about?" Joanna asked.

"Don't worry about it, Joanna," Dante spoke casually, "I'll fill you in later."

"Whatever, sir."

The last few moments back to the Zeonic capitol passed in silence.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow," Kincaid said as he slid down the wire to the hangar floor.

His two subordinates waved and began towards the BOQ. `Too bad for them,' he smiled to himself as he headed towards the main colony shaft that would take him to the married officers' block of cottages. The cottages were much better than the cramped dormitories of the bachelors' quarters.

`For more reasons than one,' Alex's smile got wider.

He got off the lift and started down the block towards the neat rows of almost identical white cottages. To get there from the lift, though, he had to go through a neighbourhood of locals. That was never a pleasant experience.

"Murderer!" A woman shouted down at him from her apartment window, "Get outta our colony you damn Feddie bastard!"

"Go back to earth, mother fucker!" A young man said, crossing the street to avoid walking past him. "We've heard about 30 Bunch!"

Several buildings still had Zeonic flags flapping from the windows or clotheslines. Still others had anti-Federation graffiti spray-painted on the sides. Alex had caught some punks trying to do that to his house one evening, but a few random shots fired from his personal sidearm were enough to frighten them off (he still wondered how they had gotten into the officers' block in the first place; people like them were the reason for the twelve foot fence and barbed wire around the neighbourhood).

He tolerated most of the verbal abuse without even trying to fight back. It wasn't worth his time, and although he didn't believe the rumours about the Titans at 30 Bunch, when you got right down to it, he would probably feel the same way about them if they had occupied his home. He knew many other officers who weren't so objective about it, though. For the sake of the local populace, he was glad that this region still held a degree of political autonomy, for if not, the Titans would have been called in very quickly, and there wouldn't have been much of a local population left to feel sorry for.

Finally he arrived at the steps of his cottage. He rapped at the screen door, "Rach! I'm home!"

His two-year-old daughter Nicole toddled up to the door before his wife did. "Daddy!" she smiled at him and jumped up and down a few times. She already had a lot of her mother in her; her swarthy, Mediterranean complexion, her snub of a nose, already developing into an elegant Roman arch, and her eyes that sparkled with vibrant energy.

"Hiya kiddo!" he bent down and waved. He then made a face at her.

She thought that was the greatest thing and giggled loudly.

"Who's that, Nikki?" her mother's voice came from the den, but he could hear her footsteps coming closer. "Alex!"

"Reporting for duty!" he gave a stiff salute.

"At ease!" she laughed as she fumbled with the door. "I was just going over your book one last time," she said, pushing her glasses back on her nose and kissed him lightly. "It's great, but we want it to be perfect when the publishers get to see it."

"You liked it?" he asked as he dropped his helmet and flight bag next to the door, picked up Nikki and followed her into the den and the computer that sat therein.

"You know me, Alex, I don't do sci-fi by choice, but I really liked the way this came out." She sat back down before the monitor. "My only question is why did you kill off the woman pilot so early? She was one of the best characters, and I felt like I could really connect with her."

"I thought about that too," he said with a shrug as he pulled up a chair next to her, Nikki squirming in his lap, "but after the fact, I'm sort of glad I did. That was what she wanted, to kill herself in that way."

"If you say so." His wife shrugged. "You're the writer. Other than that, though, I thought it was great; definitely worth the effort you put into it. I'm sure they'll publish it."

He smiled. "I should hope so. Have you two already eaten?"

"Yeah, slowpoke. I ordered a pizza while I was editing and Nikki had a hot dog. Are you hungry? The leftover pizza is still on the counter, go and have some."

"Thanks." Rachel didn't cook often, as she was usually busy editing his writing or getting ready to go out to sing at one of the local jazz clubs or the coffee shops that she worked at during the day, so he figured it would be something like this. What the hell, though? They could afford it (barely), and it was a lot better than the slop the folks down in the BOQ got at their cafeteria.

"Are you home for the evening?" Rachel's voice floated into the kitchen where he sat at the counter. "I've got a show at the Hyatt tonight, and somebody's got to put the Little One to bed."

He glanced at his watch. "Now? Rach, it's almost eleven."

"What? Are you serious?" She made quite a ruckus getting up from the computer and almost tripped over the coffee-table in a mad dash back to their room. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!" she panted as she raced into the kitchen.

"Here!" she set Nicole on the floor next to him, and continued back to her closet. "How did it get so late so fast?" she was asking herself aloud, as he walked in, carrying the baby. "They are gonna kill me when I get in! Which one, Alex, the blue one with the sequins, or the black silk one?" Rachel demanded holding up two dresses.

"You always look good in blue, but--"

"Good, thanks!" she cut him off. "Now get out while I'm changing!"

"But-"

"Out, please!" she shoved him out of the door. Before she closed it all the way, she thrust her glasses out to him, "and hold onto these, would you? I'll lose them if I set them down in here. God, it's such a mess; you've got to help me clean up later on this week. But for now, go!"

Nicole was giggling and clapping her hands when he looked down at her in his arms. "Nikki, I think your mum's lost it. What say you and I go eat some ice cream while she cools off, eh?"

"Mommy's cwazy!" His daughter laughed and clapped some more. Apparently she liked the idea.

A few moments later, Rachel emerged from the room in a stunning (and skimpy, Alex noted uncomfortably) blue dress and with enough perfume to make Nikki cough several times.

"Bye, kiddo," she said and gave her a kiss.

"You sure you're going to be okay out so late, Rach?" Alex asked. "You know how much they hate us Feddies out here, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be careful. It's not like I'm going out in uniform or anything," she smiled, and gave him a kiss quite a bit more intimate than the peck she'd given Nicole. "See ya, Space Cowboy," she winked as she left for the taxi stop.

Alex looked at Nicole in the now quiet house. She had grabbed one of the scoops of ice cream and had rubbed it all over her face.

He sighed as he grabbed a towel to clean her up, and remembered a saying his wartime buddy Duo Maxwell had imparted on him back during the war. "Women," he said as he began cleaning the mess his daughter had made, "can't live with `em, and can't procreate the species without `em."