Burning in the Homeland

By Dormeur du Val

Disclaimer: Gundam is the creative property of Bandai Entertainment and I do not claim any ownership of their creations. So, please, do not sue me! 

Notes: Sorry this took so long to get out. Thank you for all your reviews and support. I hope that this lives up to expectations!

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26 Hours Later...

Cold. Marina was cold. Beyond cold. Coming from a brutal, desert climate, she never thought she'd be unappreciative of the cold. However, the last…Marina had lost track of the time…had begun to kindle a burning disgust for it.

All about her was frigid, unyielding metal. Floors, ceiling, walls, even the table and chairs. Gooseflesh pimpled her arms and legs as tiny tremors shook her body; tremors brought on not only by the chilly conditions, but by fatigue. Marina hadn't slept since her time on the Ptolemaios. Oh, how she longed to stop fighting the heavy weight of her eyelids and surrender to the nothingness of sleep! Remembering her earlier acquiescence, Marina reined in her desire with a sigh.

In between bouts of questioning, Marina had attempted to sleep. No sooner had her cheek touched her sleeve did the door fly open and in rushed a soldier who launched a gallon of ice water at her. In shock and pain, Marina had tried to scream, but no sound would issue forth. The freezing water felt as if it was burning every inch of flesh it touched. Pain rocketed through her body, leaving her gasping in ragged, uneven breaths. No, the princess dared not even entertain the idea of a repeat.

Worse by far was the questioning. Her voice, by this point was unbelievably hoarse from use, weariness, and the temperature. Why must they keep asking the same questions over and over? How did you manage to plan your escape from inside the prison? Where were you between now and then? Is Kataron within the boarders of Azadistan? Is Celestial Being? Marina tried to be as truthful as she could without giving away any vital information. Despite this, some questions had to be answered with half-truths.

"I did not plan an escape. I had no idea anyone would come for me."

"I do not know who took me from the detention center. I was kept isolated in a small suite of rooms. No one much spoke to me."

"I don't know anything about Kataron OR Celestial Being being inside Azadistan."

The soldier in charge of her questioning was not the evil-eyed man who had arrested her aboard the shuttle. She had not seen him since he had handed her over to a small unit of A-Laws who then brought her to this icy hell. This soldier was much older, heavyset, and bundled in a thick military parka and leather gloves. She eyed them enviously.

His latest line of questioning utilized a map. Pointing to a location, he would ask, "How close is the nearest Kataron base to this location?"

"I wouldn't know."

Jabbing his thick, gloved finger to another location, "When was the last time the Gundams were near this location?"

"I do not know. I am not a member of Celestial Being or Kataron, therefore will be unable to answer any of your questions," Marina replied wearily. "Please, how are my people? Are they safe; is the Federation giving aid?"

The lips of the interrogating soldier curled, "Why should you care?" Holding her spine erect, Marina responded, "I am their princess. Their peace and well-being is my truest desire."

For some reason, this angered the soldier; his face turned from red and a vein bulged out from his forehead. He placed his gloved hands on the table and leaned over it towards Marina.

"Azadistan doesn't need a princess. Azadistan no longer has a princess," he snarled. His words ricocheted inside her heart. Deposed. Azadistan governed by the Federation who had set her ablaze…the implications made her nauseous.

He resumed his questioning.

At some point, the door slid open and a dark form beckoned to the meaty soldier. He stepped out, closing the door behind him. Marina gratefully slumped against her chair and worked her fingers, coaxing feeling back into them. Her nails were a bruised purple-blue. Not good.

He was back inside not five minutes later, a predatory gleam sparkling in his beady eyes. Marina regarded him warily. His queries now came at a rapid-fire that the ex-princess' fatigued mind could not keep up with. All she could answer was, "I don't know".

CRACK

Marina felt a sharp blow that snapped her head to the side. Mouth agape, she felt her body shudder with pain. Taking a deep breath, she willed herself to close her mouth.

"Now, like I asked before: who was with you when the shuttle went down?" he growled. Marina's heart raced. They don't know. They can't know…

"No one. I was alone"

CRACK

The acrid smell of blood filled the woman's nostrils; a salty wetness touched her lips. Incredulously, Marina watched as the soldier flung back his hand a third time, readying another swing. A voice crackled over a hidden intercom, "That's enough, Captain. We have just received word that he is on his way back. He wants her coherent." Slowly, the captain dropped his arm to his side, sighing sharply. Pulling his gun, he used it to motion his prisoner to her feet.

Without time to wonder who he was, Marina rose to her feet—only to come crashing to her knees half a second later. Attempting the feat again ended in the same result. Her legs refused to obey her; they were too cold and had gone too long without use. Panicking, it dawned on the woman that it had been some time since she remembered any feeling in her feet. Frost bite, she wondered irrationally.

"Get up. NOW!" roared the captain. Without giving her time to comply, he reached out and grabbed a hunk of hair in his meaty fist and wrenched her to her feet. His grip then changed to encircle her upper arm like an implacable, steel band. He growled in his throat, "Move."

Like a newborn lamb, Marina walked, wobbly-kneed and in anything but a straight line. Together, they left her cold prison and emerged into a bright, sterile, and warm hall. How glorious it felt! Marina kept one hand on the wall for support as they trudged down the corridor; between that and the captain's grip on her other arm, she was able to keep her feet.

When they reached a lavatory, the captain jerked his head towards the door and grunted. Marina took the hint and went inside. Grateful of the fact that he had not followed her, Marina used the facilities and then basked in the glory of the hot water as she washed her hands.

Upon emerging, they continued on. The idea of running darted through the woman's mind, but when she dared to glance at the A-Law out of the cut of her eye, he saw and cocked his gun. Marina got the point. Sliding her eyes away from the man, she noticed that there weren't any windows along the corridor. She could not guess where they were. Azadistan, most likely, but in the city? Perhaps the countryside? On the border or maybe in the desert? She had no way of knowing. Some place where help is very unlikely to find me, she thought.

Finally, the captain slowed their pace as he looked at numbers on doors. At last he stopped in front of one and punched in a long code with a think, gloved finger. The door opened only a quarter of the way, no further. The captain jerked Marina away from the wall and shoved her sideways through the opening.

Marina felt herself fly through the air; her body tensed, waiting for impact. She knocked into something solid, jolting her shoulder, and then she and it crashed to the tiled floor. She lay their panting in an exhausted, sore heap, eyes closed.

"Marina Ismail."

The woman's azure eyes flew open at the sound of her name on familiar lips. Please let it be…I don't want it to be… A myriad of conflicting emotions warred in her heart as she peered through the dimness to look into the face of Setsuna F. Seiei. His beautiful face showed only the slightest hint of surprise. Was that relief in his luminous eyes? Too hard to tell in the weak light.

He was sitting, propped up by arms stretched out behind him. Marina was lying on her side, draped across his long, lean legs.

"Setsuna," she breathed. She pushed herself to her hands and knees, allowing the pilot to extract himself. However, her body was done; it had had all it could take. Her limbs buckled, sending her crashing back to the floor, cheek to the tile.

"Marina! Marina!" Strong, yet gentle arms turned her over and cradled her upper body. Marina's chilled body reacted to the warmth radiating from Setsuna's as a flower turning towards the sun. Slim, callused, warm fingers felt along her neck, trailing up until they reached just below her jaw, checking the strength of her pulse. Marina felt shivers rippled up and down her spine.

"You're like ice; what did they do to you?" he demanded, fury creeping into his voice. It was hard to concentrate on his words. She was, at least for now, safe. She didn't have to be strong at the moment. Letting her defenses crumble, Marina felt crippling exhaustion, mental and physical, sweep over her like a tidal wave.

"Questions. Questions in metal and cold. Without sleep. Can't sleep in the cold…" she trailed off, eyes closing.

Adjusting his grip, Setsuna held her tighter, rubbing her shoulders. The friction held to warm her a bit. When he called her name again, Marina couldn't muster the energy to respond. It felt as though her head was disconnected from her body, refusing her desire to speak or move. A touch, soft as an angel's wings, hesitantly brushed the skin along cheek bone, starting near her ear. How wonderful it felt…

Suddenly, a dull throbbing pain cut through the fog of her mind. Marina flinched away from Setsuna's hand, burying her face in his chest. The young man hunched over her, sharp eyes surveying the planes of her face in the darkness. He was so close she could feel his soft breath on her cheek.

"When did this happen?" he asked quietly.

"Questioning," she murmured against him. "The soldier wanted to know who was with me. I don't know. Asked again. Told him was alone. He hit me both times." Setsuna's fingers dug into her. In a low, urgent voice, he asked, "Why did you lie? You should have know they'd know you lied." Using the last of her strength, Marina turned her head to look into his face, the tip of her nose touching his. Bad move. Dots swam across her vision; she tried to blink them away.

"Because," she cried in distress, "you were supposed to be gone—safe! Escape. Why aren't you? I tried! I tried to…"

"Shh. Later. You need rest," Setsuna interrupted as her straightened. The cradled woman made a noise of assent and relaxed in the shelter of the pilot's arms. After a few minutes, he murmured, "Why did you do it, Marina? Why try to save me?" The young man didn't expect and answer; he knew she was already fast asleep.