Questions of Past Involvement

“I’m glad you all were able to make it,” Noin nodded.  “Trowa, could you close the door for me?  Thanks.”  She stepped out from behind her desk and walked to the front, leaning up against the front as the five young men found various seats around her office.  “I called you up here because I had a question asked of me earlier this morning.  A new office assistant from this division asked if we were employing the Gundam Pilots from the Eve Wars.  She did it very discreetly,” Noin quickly added when she saw several of the men bristle and glance at each other, “and I answered that I wasn’t at liberty to discuss information regarding who we employ.”

“Which is as good an answer as ‘yes’ at that point,” Duo muttered.

“Perhaps.  But considering your various reasons for being here is considered ‘Top Secret’ by most upper-level officers—”

“Namely you, Une and Sally,” Wufei interrupted.

“—the question was concerning.  Have any of you been approached about your involvement in the Wars?”  They all nodded.  “You have?”  Crossing her arms she took a deep breath, feeling the knot in her gut tightening.

“Well, not outright,” Quatre quickly reassured her.  “No one asks us ‘which one were you?’ or anything of the sort.”

“No, it’s much more subtle,” Heero nodded.

“How so?”

“Well, let’s back up a bit, to get the setting right,” Duo said, shifting in his chair.  “People who get in here, into the Preventers,” he emphasized, tapping the arm of his chair, “do not hold grudges.  They’ve gone through such rigorous psychological exams that the Wars and conflicts have gone from a dividing mechanism to a unifying force.  We have people from Oz to Romafeller to White Fang and everyone in between: they can’t hold grudges.  So the common practice at the new officer classes is to introduce yourself by your name, current rank or status, former rank or status, and who you formally served under, what your experience was, whatever, and often enough you’ll have someone from the other end of the room, who was likely on the other side of the battlefield, ask, ‘Hey, did you know so-n-so?’ or ‘Were you at this place at this time?’  There’s no bitterness there, just curiosity.” 

When he paused, Noin nodded and asked for him to continue.  “Well, in the class or in the hall or at the cafeteria or wherever, inevitably the question, ‘So what division were you in?’ will come up.  For all five of us,” Duo said, nodding to the other ex-pilots, “the answer is, ‘I wasn’t in a division.’  Usually, the common response is then a stuttered, ‘…oh,’ and the conversation stops.  The slower ones will ask where we were deployed or who we served directly under and we tell them truthfully that we were never ‘deployed’ and didn’t serve directly under anybody.  And then the conversation most definitely stops.”

Duo held up his hand, his fingers spread out.  Wiggling them he said, “There are five of us.  Five officer.  Five young officers, only in their early-twenties – the youngest guy in the new class is twenty…six I think.”  Heero nodded next to him.  “Five young officers who not only are really good at blowing shit up, but also have excellent marksmanship, know how to play the system, are adept in sabotage, can get into places no one else can, know various suits’ strengths and weaknesses, know how to play up those weaknesses, can lead teams in and safely out of the worst case scenario, have no apparent fear, including that of pain, and – most importantly – while they have all of these skills characteristic of the perfect soldier, were never on a ‘side’ during the Wars, were never ‘deployed’ during the Wars, never served under anybody during the Wars …but they fought in the Wars.” 

He wiggled his fingers again.  “Now, the people here at Preventers aren’t stupid.  They have a one-in-five shot of guessing correctly who we are, or were, but no one wants to know our call-sign because that opens up a whole can of worms that they don’t want to deal with.  They inherently know who we were, what we did, and what our role in the Wars’ outcome was…but that hasn’t stopped them from asking for our input, our direction, our company.  They just know not to bring it up with us, even if they may casually speculate about it amongst themselves.”

Noin nodded again and pursed her lips.  “If,” she began, “the questions start to get too intrusive, let Une or I or even Sally know and we’ll handle with it.  You don’t need the added pressure.”  The all murmured various words of thanks before she continued.  “Now, a theoretical question.”

“Oh, I like these ones,” Duo muttered to Heero, “Technically no wrong answers.”  The Japanese man fought a smile and shook his head.

Noin continued, “If, for whatever reason, the Preventers had to acknowledge your presence, with names attached, would any of you be opposed to it?”  There was a brief pause, but then Quatre lifted his hand from its position on the armrest.  “You would.”  Noin paused to think.  “Just so I’m on the same page, any particular reason why?”

Quatre took a deep breath and thought a moment.  “While I am not personally ashamed of my actions during the Wars for the most part, it would blemish what I’m trying to do.  The Winner Foundation was started by my great-grandfather who sought to maintain a corporation which served strictly peaceful aims.  My grandfather and father continued that practice…and then I went and broke tradition and became a Gundam Pilot.  Like I said, I’m not personally ashamed…but I’m concerned what acknowledgement would do to the Foundation.  I don’t want my personal actions to overshadow what my family has done.”

“Understandable,” Noin said.  “If, for whatever reason, the Preventers need to acknowledge the employment of the Gundam Pilots, your name will be exempt.  I know that words can more powerful weapons that what we have at the barracks.”

“Thank you,” Quatre said.  “People can speculate however long they want, so long as there is no formal recognition from Headquarters.”

“Of course…” Trowa said, his head tilted to the side in thought.  He turned to look at Quatre.  “You kind of break the stereotype of a Gundam Pilot.  If people start asking questions, just schedule a ten-minute appointment with them while you’re over at the Foundation.  You’ll dispel any concern of your involvement.  ‘I’m so glad you could come,’” Trowa’s voice rose half an octave, “‘Here’s some tea.’” 

The others chuckled and Quatre added, “We have scones too if you would like one,” only causing the laughter to double.

“God Quatre, I love you man,” Duo laughed.  “You make my day so much brighter.”