There was a sizable crowd filling the auditorium, comprised mostly of news reporters and military officials. A delegation from the Preventers has arrived as well and Relena Peacecraft was at present speaking with Sally Po. Dr. Schaefer allowed a satisfied smile to broaden his lips, crossing his legs and trying to make himself more comfortable from his inconspicuous position in the back row. All major leaders were present, each having received an invitation to a telecast announcement though they hadn't been told what the purpose of it was. And Schaefer was certain that they had no idea what they were about to be hit with. 

    Schaefer took a moment to observe the young Peacecraft girl. She and Po were seated several rows down and on the opposite side of the auditorium. Peacecraft had turned in her seat to better converse with her colleagues, giving Schaefer a perfect angle to watch her movements and expressions. For the most part she was cool and composed. But Schaefer had spent his life observing human reaction and could see the undercurrents of emotion in the girl that others were probably missing. She was distressed, perhaps a little anxious. He was pleased to note that anger was also among the things she was trying to veil. 

    He scribbled some notes with his ever present fountain pen about what he saw. She was young, but strong. No one held a throne raised out of ruins like the Sank Kingdom without being persistent. He smirked. If the reports he'd heard of her pursuit of one of the Gundam pilots was even half accurate, she was most certainly persistent. 

    But was she a obstacle? Strength and persistence were nothing without a certain amount of intelligence backing them up. And merely watching her would not tell Schaefer whether or not there was someone like himself, someone hanging in the wings and making use of a pretty figurehead or if she really was in charge. But if that *was* anger Schaefer saw in her then it meant she was realistic enough to realize that her Absolute Pacifism ideals were being threatened. More scribbles with the pen: Relena Peacecraft could pose a significant opposition. 

    The large screen that had been mounted on the stage started to flicker the crowd settled into a terse silence. The face that filled the screen a few moments later was a young man's, with short ginger colored hair dressed in a general's uniform. The clip at the corner of his lapel glinted, a gold medal carved with the scene of a lion's head being overpowered by a coiled dragon. The man stared back at the crowd from the vidscreen, assessing who was watching, then spoke. 

    "I'm glad to see that you have all chosen to join us," the man said, finishing the sentence with a perfunctory smile. "I'm sure that most of you are anxious to know what this announcement concerns, so I will be brief. My name is General Derrik Navin and I am the head of an organization called The Succession. As leader it is my duty to inform all present that The Succession has officially declared war on Earth and her colonies as of April 25, A.C. 196." 

    The statement was followed by a distant echo, something sounding outside the building. Some members of the audience exchanged glances, but most of the military officials were already on their feet. They recognized that noise. There was another one, this time closer, and they could feel the faint tremors in the floor beneath their feet. Schaefer glanced at his watch, pleased to note that everything was going as scheduled. 

    Navin was talking again. "Some of you may be aware that there is a military stronghold just beyond this building, the Manhiem Base. My soldiers have orders to annihilate it.  While I assure you that no one in this building will be harmed, I can not say the same for your soldiers stationed at the Manhiem." 

Another smile and the screen went blank. 

**** 
    Noin opened the door to the hotel suite and stepped aside to allow Relena and Sally to enter. Relena went straight to on of the large windows and pushed aside the curtain to watch as press vans and limousines pulled away from the building. She was aware of Noin's and Sally's gazes locked firmly on her. Each woman was looking for the signs of stress. The last two days had ben a mad scramble between dealing with The Succession's declaration of war and the resulting attack on the Manhiem base. 

    Sally made her way to a chair by the coffee table, pulling irritably at the sleeve of her Preventers jacket. Noin crossed her arms and remained on her feet by the door. Neither seemed willing to break the quiet, waiting for Relena to organize her thoughts and ask what she would of them. 

    "How many survived?" Relena asked. 

    "327 out of the 1023 soldiers that were currently in the Manhiem," Noin answered. "Most of the survivors were in the mess hall. The surrounding buildings collapsed, shutting them in, but untimately shielded them from further damaged." 

    "Count them as extremely lucky," Sally said. "The other bases never made it beyond 50 getting out." Sally had a scowl forming despite her best attempts to keep it off her face. Preventer base locations were top secret. Even she didn't know where some of them were and she worked for them. For them to be targeted so easily and so systematically meant that someone was very good at what they were doing. A little too damn good for Sally's tastes. 

    "You think they are connected?" 

    "Most likely," Noin added. "If The Succession is related to the attacks, then it means they've been able to hide armies of Mobile Suits from detection despite the treaty. Judging from the locations of the bases that were hit, The Succession would be trying to undermine any resource we have that would be able to combat them." 

    One of the hands Relena held behind her back clenched into a fist. "You mean resources such as efficient Gundam pilots?" she said. Noin and Sally exchanged glances. 

    "The timing of the bombing is rather... convenient." Sally muttered. Preventer bases being attacked was one thing. Public buildings that just happened to have Gundam pilots making use of the far wing was something else. 

    Relena straightened her shoulder and turned to face them. "We know nothing of their motivations for such a move as declaring a war. Sally. If you would contact Lady Une and see what information there is on The Succession?" 

    "Shouldn't be a problem." Sally replied, standing and straightening her jacket. "Lady Une's still at the main base, dealing with the aftermath of those attacks. I'm sure after the paper and field work she's been getting, she'll enjoy the chance to nail the blame on someone." 

    "Noin, please contact this Derrik Navin and ask that a meeting be arranged between him and myself. Hopefully a diplomatic agreement can be made before the situation escalates. I do not wish to see another war, especially so soon after ending one." 

    "Of course, Relena." 

    "Noin?" The other woman pause, hand on the doorknob. "Would you... would you contact my brother?" 

    Noin nodded and offered what she hoped was a comforting smile. 

    The latch clicked shut and Relena stared at the door for several moments, mind suddenly whirling in the silence. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. The war was *over*. In the long months following the treaty, the world had just begun to heal, the euphoria drifting into efforts to rebuild the damage done. And now this young General was trying to ruin everything, declaring war like he was speaking of the weather; all polite smiles and casual voice. 

    Relena sat very carefully on the edge of the bed. The few people who she had depended on for their strength were gone, dead. She had spent so much time hoping that Heero wasn't really dead. He'd survived to many self-destruct attempts, gotten out of too many seemingly impossible situations for her to believe him dead so easily. The finality of the funeral ceremonies had crushed that hope. 

    She'd tried to see Duo after the funerals but no one seemed to know where he was. As the last surviving Gundam pilot, he'd represented her only support. And while she'd often been shocked by his familiar attitude around her, he had always treated her as an equal. His presence had a grounding affect for her, like being near Heero gave her strength. 

    The news that Duo had been murdered had been like a physical blow. She wondered what it said about her strength when all the people who helped give it to her were dead. 

    She wiped at the tears trying to collect in her eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Hopefully her brother Zechs would be able to visit her. He'd remained among the colonies, not wishing his deeds during the war to tarnish the Peacecraft image any more than it had, though he kept in contact with his little sister. And once he knew what had happened, he'd no doubt return to Earth. 

    Relena glanced at the mirror that hung on the wall. It reflected a calm young woman, sitting straight backed on the carefully made bed, hands clasped in the skirt of her dress suit. The public image of the Queen of the World. Eloquent and composed. The Queen of the World did not crack under the pressures of ordinary life. 

    "Sometimes," she told the reflection with a hint of a smile, " this job really sucks." 

**** 

    The giant form of Revenge had been laid out along the floor of the hangar, it's wings compacted and folded safely into it's back so they wouldn't be crushed under the Gundam's weight. The mechanics that inhabited the underground compound had been running check after check on her systems, making all the final alterations that needed to be made. Revenge was fully operational. Gundam and pilot were now resting in the pre-battle silence. 

    Duo was lying stretched out on one of the shoulder armors, gazing upward, much as he had done when he'd still had Deathscythe. But instead of a bright white moon and a blanket of stars, he saw the pipes and support beams of the hangar. The gundanium beneath him was warm enough that it was leeching through the fabric of his clothes, the faint heat comfortable against tired shoulder and back muscles. Revenge was always warm, despite the slight, but always constant chill that hung about the hangar. 

    "Why is that?" he asked the Gundam quietly. There wasn't an answer, only the soft heat radiating beneath him. "Fitting, I guess. Deathscythe was usually pretty cool, I mean, Shinigami's supposed to be, right? But Revenge is something else, isn't it?" 

    Tomorrow there would be a mission. Howard had contacts who had contacts who had more contacts. Between the hits the Preventer bases had been getting, they'd made a strategic guess at where the next hit would be. Duo would fly over and sit tight, wait, watch, and intercept. If nothing happened, they'd have to try again. 

    But what we really need are the scientists... Wonder what they're up to. 

    While he and the other pilots had often made their own mission agendas, the really major missions had always come from the scientists. They'd always seemed to know exactly what was going on and how to handle it. Duo had tried a few of the old contact routines but if Professor G. was even getting them, he wasn't responding. Duo was getting the feeling that he wasn't going to. 

    "How rude," Duo mumbled to himself, only half awake by now. 

    The warmth was steadily drawing him into sleep. Warm... it ought to be that way. Revenge was something that heated the blood. Revenge was anger, fire, and passion folded over and forged into metal. But Duo was still Shinigami. Death was cold, the shadow that worked in tandem with the Gundam. And as he fell asleep he could imagine the cold that filled him. 

End Part III