The beam of light that had hit the mirror traveled along a white wall as Trowa slowly slid the door into the hallway. Eventually it came to another mirror. Trowa quickly guessed this system as the beam was bent in the direction of the second mirror. Gradually the dark hall filled with lots of light that was magnified by stark white walls everywhere. As Trowa followed the system of mirrors through turns and switchbacks he quietly wondered yet again, wondered about the motives of people that would do something as clever as this. The hall was a big maze without any stairwells leading to a second floor; the inquisitive gundam pilot quickly came back to the door he had started at. This didn’t make sense at all considering that he had obviously gotten in through a door. Trowa decided to go through the maze again, except this time he followed the beam of white light instead of the path. It led him to a monotone white wall. The light made a big circle on the wall, and just for effect Trowa put his hand in the center of it. To his surprise a clicking sound responded, followed by a whoosh as the wall disappeared completely and revealed the original door Trowa had come out of. He remembered it because of the particularly large keypad that served as a lock. The door also had a mirror on it and was still unlocked so Trowa stepped inside the cell he had started off the whole thing in. It was indeed a very small room, devoid of anything except a bed and four white washed walls surrounding it. The only thing Trowa noticed immediately was that there was another door on the opposite wall to the one he currently had his back against. It was pure chance that he hadn’t stumbled onto that one before. It had a futuristic looking doorknob that Trowa was satisfied to find unlocked also. He stepped through it; this time into a hallway painted blue and well lit, a welcome change in Trowa’s opinion.

Someone was playing a concerto on a piano. The sound was distant but it echoed off the walls in a very eerie, ominous way. But the thing that really disturbed Trowa was that he recognized the tune from somewhere. The hallway was filled with doors that were all closed and locked and as Trowa once again started running to save time he followed the haunting notes out of distinct memory. Someone had played that for him before, and fairly recently too. After a while of the senseless running again Trowa stopped in front of a door that he was sure the music was coming from. It was still very soft. The door had a keypad on it. Trowa tried the most logical combination he could think of: 04.

Light flooded in onto Quatre Raberba Winner, who was also in a cell much like Trowa’s, except for the fact that right up against the bed there was a very large, ornate grand piano. Quatre, a still very young looking boy with aqua eyes and desert blond hair, was sitting against the bed with his thin hands on the piano keys. As he saw Trowa his already bright face brightened with a huge smile. He quickly checked the happy look to a more serious one. "Trowa! Wow, I thought I was all alone here."

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, I’m fine. I think someone drugged me though, so-"

"Just to put us to sleep," Trowa stepped in the room. "How could you play in complete darkness?"

Quatre blinked at the abruptness of the question. "Um…" his face grew a little red. "I’ve had that piece memorized for years. I just felt the keys and started playing, mostly to pass time."

"Fine then," Trowa glanced around the room. There was something sitting on the piano that he had initially missed, probably because it was so unbelievable that Trowa’s mind automatically dismissed it. The tall boy went over to a small phone and picked up the receiver. "Guess what, Quatre?"

"What?"

"You have a dial tone here."

"Very interesting. Trowa, what’s going on here? Who are these people? They seem so…strange…"

Trowa pushed the phone over to his friend. "Here, make a call."

Quatre blinked again, his boyish face furrowing in confusion. "To who?"

"Where are you supposed to be right now?"

Quatre looked blank for a moment before he realized who Trowa was talking about. "Oh! The treaty, that’s right…wow, they must be finished by now. But I can still call. Just one question, why would I want to call them?"

"Call it an intelligent guess on who our captors here are interested in listening in on," Trowa leaned against the wall.

"Okay," Quatre picked up the phone and hesitantly listened to the dial tone. He plunked out a long number and put the receiver to his ear. Trowa nodded to himself, having just set a plan he’d thought of two seconds ago into motion.

There was only one thing you could count on politicians to be, and that was late. Three hours late to be exact. It was nine at night in Hong Kong, China; and all of the stars were just starting to come out of the sky. One girl who was going to be at the appropriately rescheduled meeting was eating some fried rice with chopsticks and resting on the hood of a limo she’d been escorted in. For once she was nothing short of absolutely thrilled to be rid of all the politicians and bodyguards who kept stride with her all day. Sitting huddled up on the hood of a car really wasn’t the image she was trying to portray at all, but that night she was uncharacteristically tired and felt like just staring at the stars. There was a full moon that was just over the Bank of China Tower, and as the girl reveled at being alone in an immense parking garage she sighed and for once in a long while actually felt happy. The few stars that weren’t blotted out by the lighting of Hong Kong shone boldly and brilliantly, reminding her of distant memories that were usually pushed out of her head for official Alliance business. Her crisp dress suit was wrinkled and her wispy pale, wheat blond hair was flying out of place. She ate some rice, also a food she wasn’t used to, and shivered. They did make a point of having a lot of cold weather on Earth; it was a bit different than all the colonies she was used to visiting. Relena Dorlian sighed. Life just wasn’t as easy as it was supposed to be at the moment.

Relena knew that her bodyguards were milling around the garage, but she had specifically asked them not to disturb her, it gave her a false sense of having some privacy. For endless months she’d been discussing the armistice with everyone, she’d signed a thousand treaties, been to a million meetings, and smiled politely to what seemed like the entire human population. So when a group of Chinese politicians called and said they’d be three hours late, Relena welcomed the chance to relax. Every night she’d seen a new hotel and a new set of people to impress. Relena hadn’t thought about other things in a very long time. Other things like the stars…and who lived up there…and how he was doing…

There was a new treaty that was being formed. It was nicknamed the "peace treaty to end all treaties" because of the sheer size of it. Ten thousand names of people representing every single country and colony were going to sign it. Ten thousand signatures, including those of all the people who had fought in the huge war. That meant dragging her brother, the Preventers, and five tired boys back down to Earth again sometime soon. Just to sign another piece of paper that could be presented to the world as proof of true peace. The planet was like a magnet, it had drawn the cosmos to all of its problems. The treaty was being imposed on a lot of people. Being peaceful and having no weapons was becoming something of peer pressure rather than a true ideal. In the back of her head Relena worried about that. But not right then.

She sighed and turned her thoughts to the stars again. Five tired boys, five that would come so easily in person but so reluctantly in mind. Five that knew they’d done enough for peace already. All for Relena’s battered and fought over ideal. She worried about that too, but at the moment she turned her attention to the fact that she’d eaten all of her rice and was still quite hungry.

A bodyguard slunk out of the darkness carrying a cell phone. Relena swallowed quickly, ready to talk cordially to some big shot back in the colonies. The guard’s name was Kyle, and he looked quite confused. "You have a message, Miss Relena."

"Oh. Alright. From who?"

"He said his name was Quatre Winner."

Relena sat straight up in a very unladylike moment of surprise. "Oh! Why didn’t you pick up?"

"Uh," Kyle blinked. "That’s the strange part. The phone didn’t ring, the message was just left."

"Did you get the number?"

"Yes, we traced it," the guard held up a pad with a very long number. She felt a chill. It was a number from Earth, when all of the pilots were supposed to be happy in space.

"Okay, I’m going to call him back. Do we have time now?"

"We have plenty of time," Kyle assured her.

Relena dropped the chopsticks. "Alright."