'We'll Stand In The Sun' for escalove
Title: We'll Stand In The Sun
Recipient: escalove
Rating: G
Warnings: None!
Summary: A letter from Mars.
Author's Notes: I didn't manage to work in as much Zechs/Noin as I meant, but rest assured it's background. This was lots of fun to write, and I hope you like it!
Author: genarti
Date: 25 November 197, 17:00:08 MMT
From: noin@mars.gov
To: spo01@preventers.gov
Subject: yet another belated reply!
Dear Sally,
Once again, I have to start off by apologizing! It took me days to get around to this email. We've been so busy. I guess we always are. In the old days I could call you up and we'd make exasperated understanding faces at each other, if we weren't busy with the same things in the same room anyway, but now I have to rely on these long rambles.
No disasters, at least, thank mercy! It's only the thousand little things we see every day. Coordinate this, patch that, this other process is more complicated than tests suggested and we have to fit it to the problem anyway or find a workaround. We knew it would be like this. Zechs grumbles every night, but he's in his element. He loves a challenge. He's tamed himself from the old Lightning Count enough that he doesn't try to meet every difficulty by charging right into the fray himself, but you can still see that gleam in his eye. He reminds me more and more of his sister, honestly. I suspect it'll be a long time before they can live under the same roof and not bring out the worst in each other (and, let's be honest, Sally, particularly in him), but here on Mars he's a Peacecraft all through. He can talk Nigel -- I know I've complained about Nigel -- and Divya and Oluremi into cooperating with each other and all thinking they've gotten their own way. I leave that to him whenever I can. I always just want to bang their heads together until they listen. Give me the young enthusiasts any day -- they listen. I have much more patience for green kids than he does. How could I not, though? It's marvelous here, lonely and stark though it is; we have such camaraderie, Nigel aside, and every day it seems we discover something new. The Moon was colonized so many years ago -- everything's improved since then, and we're right on the edge of the improvements, learning as we go. Already we've doubled the terraforming procedures manual, and it was practically the size of a Taurus to start with.
And now I'm waxing rhapsodic again, aren't I? I'll spare you the descriptions of sunrise over Mars this time. I've tried enough, heaven knows, and nothing I can say does it justice. I wish you could come out here and see for yourself.
Sally, I do miss quick emails. And talking to you face to face, of course, but I spent long enough stationed apart from various friends that that's nothing new. It's writing to you like this that really brings it home to me how far away from everything we are, and how much infrastructure we have yet to build. A canned message to be sent hours from now, in a big personal-mail-and-dispatches bundle! Not that we haven't used arrangements like that sometimes, but it's still strange to have that be my only option, instead of just the safest or most practical. And I know I didn't ramble this much in person. Blame my upbringing and all the polite letters I was forced to write, if your eyes get tired.
At least we have the base finally all covered by the access network. We wouldn't have a network like this if it weren't for mobile suit technology. You can say that for war, at least. Along with all the terrible things we developed came plenty of good ideas. Peace is infinitely preferable, of course, but I do appeciate being able to contact all my subordinates (or Zechs) and knowing they'll hear it.
I told you about that fellow who was lost for hours in one of the old blank zones, right? He's fine, which I think wasn't certain last time we talked, but it was exactly the kind of mess the check-in procedures are supposed to prevent. I wished for the Commander to scold everyone into terrified compliance! We just had to do our best. Between Zechs and me we managed a good bit of terror, though, and Yevgeny's hypothermia certainly helped. At least now if anyone does anything similarly asinine we'll be able to contact them, and combine the dressing-down with the rescue.
Zechs is well, by the way. I know I talked about him before, but I'll say it anyway. We've both been fending off the cold going around the station with lots of tea (terrible, of course) and vitamin supplements. I'll tell him you asked after him. I'll tell him to write you, too, but don't expect much -- he's awful at staying in touch. You'd think as an aristocrat he'd have more manners, but oh well. (I can call him an aristocrat when he's not listening. He gets all ironic if he hears, and then he broods for hours.)
How's Wufei? Do you hear much from the other kids? (Another thing I can only say when they're not listening!) And did you ever catch that guerilla leader? Does it feel as ironic to you as it always did to me, to hunt down guerillas and rebels, or has it settled into some kind of normality? There's plenty of difference, of course, between someone rebelling against the democratic peace now and our own fights, but maybe it's just the distance of victory that lets me say so. I don't think so, though. The world wants peace. Lady Relena showed us all that, she and those pilots, and we all showed each other how to keep it once we'd achieved real peace. A threat to that is more than a threat to any one leader.
Do keep telling me about your cases, please, as much as you're allowed to say. I miss Preventers, too. I'm not sorry I came here -- we're doing good work, and I'm with Zechs, and you'll never find this kind of clean slate on Earth -- but I miss it anyway. I suppose it's in the nature of humanity to never be fully satisfied.
But I feel much more settled these days. Back on Earth I always felt I had something to prove, I think. I didn't notice it until I'd been here for months, and then at some point I just looked up and realized. There was always someone, you know? My parents, Zechs, Commander Une, the pilot kids -- even if they didn't mean anything of the kind, I wanted to prove myself. Here there's nothing but the job, and we've become a real team.
Oh, hell, just got a call about a fight down in hydroponics that broke some of the irrigation pipes. Remind me why I was so pleased about everyone being able to contact me? I'll wrap this up for now, just in case it takes hours like the last emergency. Say hello to everyone for me, please, and give a hug to anyone you think would appreciate it or anyone who'd react amusingly.
All the best,
Lucrezia
Recipient: escalove
Rating: G
Warnings: None!
Summary: A letter from Mars.
Author's Notes: I didn't manage to work in as much Zechs/Noin as I meant, but rest assured it's background. This was lots of fun to write, and I hope you like it!
Author: genarti
Date: 25 November 197, 17:00:08 MMT
From: noin@mars.gov
To: spo01@preventers.gov
Subject: yet another belated reply!
Dear Sally,
Once again, I have to start off by apologizing! It took me days to get around to this email. We've been so busy. I guess we always are. In the old days I could call you up and we'd make exasperated understanding faces at each other, if we weren't busy with the same things in the same room anyway, but now I have to rely on these long rambles.
No disasters, at least, thank mercy! It's only the thousand little things we see every day. Coordinate this, patch that, this other process is more complicated than tests suggested and we have to fit it to the problem anyway or find a workaround. We knew it would be like this. Zechs grumbles every night, but he's in his element. He loves a challenge. He's tamed himself from the old Lightning Count enough that he doesn't try to meet every difficulty by charging right into the fray himself, but you can still see that gleam in his eye. He reminds me more and more of his sister, honestly. I suspect it'll be a long time before they can live under the same roof and not bring out the worst in each other (and, let's be honest, Sally, particularly in him), but here on Mars he's a Peacecraft all through. He can talk Nigel -- I know I've complained about Nigel -- and Divya and Oluremi into cooperating with each other and all thinking they've gotten their own way. I leave that to him whenever I can. I always just want to bang their heads together until they listen. Give me the young enthusiasts any day -- they listen. I have much more patience for green kids than he does. How could I not, though? It's marvelous here, lonely and stark though it is; we have such camaraderie, Nigel aside, and every day it seems we discover something new. The Moon was colonized so many years ago -- everything's improved since then, and we're right on the edge of the improvements, learning as we go. Already we've doubled the terraforming procedures manual, and it was practically the size of a Taurus to start with.
And now I'm waxing rhapsodic again, aren't I? I'll spare you the descriptions of sunrise over Mars this time. I've tried enough, heaven knows, and nothing I can say does it justice. I wish you could come out here and see for yourself.
Sally, I do miss quick emails. And talking to you face to face, of course, but I spent long enough stationed apart from various friends that that's nothing new. It's writing to you like this that really brings it home to me how far away from everything we are, and how much infrastructure we have yet to build. A canned message to be sent hours from now, in a big personal-mail-and-dispatches bundle! Not that we haven't used arrangements like that sometimes, but it's still strange to have that be my only option, instead of just the safest or most practical. And I know I didn't ramble this much in person. Blame my upbringing and all the polite letters I was forced to write, if your eyes get tired.
At least we have the base finally all covered by the access network. We wouldn't have a network like this if it weren't for mobile suit technology. You can say that for war, at least. Along with all the terrible things we developed came plenty of good ideas. Peace is infinitely preferable, of course, but I do appeciate being able to contact all my subordinates (or Zechs) and knowing they'll hear it.
I told you about that fellow who was lost for hours in one of the old blank zones, right? He's fine, which I think wasn't certain last time we talked, but it was exactly the kind of mess the check-in procedures are supposed to prevent. I wished for the Commander to scold everyone into terrified compliance! We just had to do our best. Between Zechs and me we managed a good bit of terror, though, and Yevgeny's hypothermia certainly helped. At least now if anyone does anything similarly asinine we'll be able to contact them, and combine the dressing-down with the rescue.
Zechs is well, by the way. I know I talked about him before, but I'll say it anyway. We've both been fending off the cold going around the station with lots of tea (terrible, of course) and vitamin supplements. I'll tell him you asked after him. I'll tell him to write you, too, but don't expect much -- he's awful at staying in touch. You'd think as an aristocrat he'd have more manners, but oh well. (I can call him an aristocrat when he's not listening. He gets all ironic if he hears, and then he broods for hours.)
How's Wufei? Do you hear much from the other kids? (Another thing I can only say when they're not listening!) And did you ever catch that guerilla leader? Does it feel as ironic to you as it always did to me, to hunt down guerillas and rebels, or has it settled into some kind of normality? There's plenty of difference, of course, between someone rebelling against the democratic peace now and our own fights, but maybe it's just the distance of victory that lets me say so. I don't think so, though. The world wants peace. Lady Relena showed us all that, she and those pilots, and we all showed each other how to keep it once we'd achieved real peace. A threat to that is more than a threat to any one leader.
Do keep telling me about your cases, please, as much as you're allowed to say. I miss Preventers, too. I'm not sorry I came here -- we're doing good work, and I'm with Zechs, and you'll never find this kind of clean slate on Earth -- but I miss it anyway. I suppose it's in the nature of humanity to never be fully satisfied.
But I feel much more settled these days. Back on Earth I always felt I had something to prove, I think. I didn't notice it until I'd been here for months, and then at some point I just looked up and realized. There was always someone, you know? My parents, Zechs, Commander Une, the pilot kids -- even if they didn't mean anything of the kind, I wanted to prove myself. Here there's nothing but the job, and we've become a real team.
Oh, hell, just got a call about a fight down in hydroponics that broke some of the irrigation pipes. Remind me why I was so pleased about everyone being able to contact me? I'll wrap this up for now, just in case it takes hours like the last emergency. Say hello to everyone for me, please, and give a hug to anyone you think would appreciate it or anyone who'd react amusingly.
All the best,
Lucrezia