CHAPTER XI-Swan Song

"I thought Relena Peacecraft-Darlian had retired," came a warm, careful voice.

The committee room was small and cramped, with plaster peeling from the wall and mahogany chairs groaning under the excess adipose of overfed partisans.

Senator Wayridge stood, straight backed and proud before the people it had taken him a week to track down.

After mulling through loads of political red tape and dead ends, he had found the commission that could be directly traced for reinstalling Relena.

They did not scare him. Once, as a Marquis, he had stood up and exclaimed his support of the just instated Queen Relena without a care for the consequences. Now as he looked at the faces before him, and recalled the appearances of the politicians of OZ, he could not find a different behind them.

These people had so many skeletons in their closets, that they had anthropologists lined up to study their wardrobe.

And he wondered where those ideals everyone had fought for had gone.

Senator Ishito shrugged grimly, yanking on his tie in the stuffy room. The ESUN's main office in Geneva, Switzerland, was not large enough for all that was required of it, and most committees met in an assortment of such hell holes. Most of these dank, humid pockets of plaster and wood were considered merely a preview of things to come for their occupants in the afterlife, according to a great deal of the public.

"Relena gladly volunteered for the job," the senator finally replied, "Senator Wayridge, please don't tell me that you didn't know how serious things were getting with the Outer Colonies. The newest line of Preventer cruisers have had to be delayed again due to lack of supplies. We need production and we need it now."

Senator Wayridge slammed a hand down on the nearest table (actually there was only one because it was a rather large one, made of oak wood, and it managed to fit everyone comfortably. Besides, there wasn't enough room for any other furniture. In fact, it was an incredible achievement that they got Senator Wayridge in without knocking in a wall).

"The Vice -I mean, the Foreign Minister- was trying to send a message to the people. What are you doing? What are you planning?"

There was the scratching sound of pencils and a shifting of feet. It was always fat old men who shifted their feet that changed the world for the worst. That was one thing Senator Wayridge knew for a fact.

"We plan nothing, Darrell. The Foreign Minister is merely lending a helping hand." The Chair said apathetically, "What are you implying?"

"I'm implying, Chair Deputy Leader," Wayridge said in a careful drawl, "That you are trying to claim Relena's eventual victory over these miners as your own. I'm implying that you are all lying, thieving cowards who want to put Ariel Yuy in office so you can get what you want! I'm implying that you have forgotten the ideals that brought you where you are today! It's not all about power! It's about peace!"

Senator Ishito leaned forward, his graying Asian features drawn into a scowl of contempt, "Don't start talking like a martyr, Senator Wayridge, or you'll soon become one." He waved his hand at the man before he could speak again, "Please calm yourself, senator. You are acting like a baby who lost its teddy bear."

The senator shook his head, "I am acting like a man who lost his faith in his peers."

Senator Wayridge walked out with the final word.

And a bit of plaster peeled on the wall and curled up on the floor.

Relena's face was covered with soot, and her European features were contorted with fury. Heero speculated if maybe it was safe to get off of her now.

"Heero," she hissed. He realized his weight must have made it very difficult to breathe. "Get. Off. Of. Me. NOW!"

He hastily complied. His fascination for Relena's erratic moments of anger was beginning to grow. Maybe she'd attack him like last time- or maybe she'd try to steal his gun to kill him.

She sat up, strangely composed, brushing the black dust off of her jacket and face, but not succeeding very well. In fact, she was only making it worse. He reached out to help her, but she put up a hand, "Don't interrupt me now, I'm thinking."

She pushed back her hair with careful and hands, took a few deep breaths (all of which were exhaled with a cough, and then turned to survey the damage. Fire crews had already extinguished the small remains of the fire (for flames ate up the colony's precious oxygen supply and had to be controlled almost immediately). The first colony lifted into space had had a fire that killed all its occupants, or so the text books said, and since then, such precautionary measures had been installed in every colony.

However, Relena couldn't help noticing how slow this colony was compared to the others she had visited, and how men had had to put out the fire themselves, for there had been no flame retardant sprinklers installed in the building.

She grinned suddenly, "Heero," she asked with her back to him, "did we bring camera equipment along with us?"

"Yes, I believe."

"Good. Very good." She said confidently, and she turned to face him, her eyes shining with the brilliance of an idea sparkling in her mind, "Well, could you find it for me?"

"Sure."

"And afterwards, I want you to call up every major media company in the ESUN."

Heero scowled, "If you're planning what I think you're planning, I'm going to have to refuse. Didn't the bombing prove anything to you? The miners may want help, but the Mob doesn't. They want to make sure no one tries to improve this area because then they'll lose control. The ESUN never wanted to change anything until the election came up, and you know that. Jour is planning something, and I think Ariel wants to ride out her victory by supporting you here. If you help them, you hand my sister the presidency on a silver platter!"

Relena frowned, "What do you mean?"

"She told me that you were going to be attacked. My saving you has made people like her more for being related to me. Her standing in the polls has shot up."

Relena's eyes were wide and nervous for a moment, but they settled back to determined and angry very quickly.

"We don't have a choice, Heero. I didn't fight for peace for this to happen again."

"Mr. Stane, sir," the man said cautiously, "We didn't succeed in killing the Foreign Minister."

A small, balding man stroked his chin thoughtfully, "Her bodyguard is very competent, and thanks to him we lost twenty good men in that accident and didn't even achieve our objective."

"He was a Gundam pilot, boss," the man said, quivering, "He could kill fifty men in five minutes without effort. I was caught in that battle when the Sanc Kingdom dissolved its borders. He fought like a madman." The man held up his stump of an arm, "I lost half my arm thanks to him."

"You don't like him, do you, Paolo?"

"No, sir."

"Very good, vengefulness is an excellent emotion. We won't go down without a fight, and both of them won't live long enough to do any more to help."

When the Mafia chose a target, they would pursue it until the last of them died.

"This is our business enterprise."