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"The Agency: Meeting of Souls "Written By: Karina Pairings 13x6 [eventual], 5xS, 3x4, Others undecided at this time. Warnings: Extreme Alternate Universe setting. Unbetaed, Aussie spelling and grammar, not much else in the early chapters though it will involve murder, stalking and possibly some colourful language down the track. Some Out Of Character depictions are unavoidable considering the alternate universe setting. Rating: M [In Australia that would be mature adult 15+] Not sure with the new rating system about international ratings. Rated for violence and language and adult concepts. Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. That's about as plain as you could say it. Summary: The world took a very different turn with the acknowledgement of psychic abilities and training of select psychic individuals enlisted in elite fields such as law enforcement and politics. A grading system for the strength of psionic abilities was developed and those who were the top of the elite have been dubbed Prime Talents and are highly sought after. Elite institutions have been developed to mark, train and employ individuals with useable psionic talents. The colonies of canon Gundam Wing do exist in this fic and were constructed before the psionic system was founded. With the advent of psionics in open use in society younger people are appearing in positions of power as they are awakening to their abilities earlier and are highly trained in their fields of expertise. //…// Thoughts
Chapter Six "They say in Luxembourg there is the greatest shopping centre on the Earth.” “No, no. Paris. Can you imagine a shopping spree in Paris?” “Ah, Paris! I’ve heard so much about it. City of Romance.” “Get a life.” “Oh, listen to you. You can’t tell me you are not excited about this trip. The greatest cities on the Earth and we get to visit them.” “It’s not a holiday, you idiot so stop treating it like one and give us all a rest from your voice.” “Look who’s talking, Miss-know-it-all. Which teacher died and made you our supervisor?” “Shove it right where it hurts, Sienna.” “Keep it down, Ladies and keep it clean.” “Yes, Ms Rogers.” Peace. If only for thirty seconds before it began again with little in the way of variation. “Man, will I be glad to stretch my legs.” A massive yawn interrupted any further comment and was followed by a heavy sigh. Slender black clad arms stretched and fisted hands punched the air before the slim fingers uncurled and wriggled then expanded, hands inclining palms to the ceiling of the cabin to work his wrists. “Traveling sucks.” “Traveling sucks? This from a Sweeper?” Quatre Raberbar Winner flashed a million credit grin at the young man seated to his left. “You will not do so well amid the Sweepers if that is your view of travel, Duo. After all, traveling is all Sweepers do!” Duo Maxwell snorted and presented his pale blonde companion with ‘the finger’ accompanying his wide grin to demonstrate his amusement. He was a Sweeper and had been from the day a Sweeper captain had come upon a small child crouching in the ashes of a burned out building. No one picking through the smoldering ruin had paid attention to the child in the half hour Howard had been present and he had claimed the child for the Sweepers. Duo had heard the story time and again, embellished each time by those who told it until the current version resembled something from a fairy tale. He wondered sometimes if anyone knew the truth of what had happened anymore. Sweepers seemed to be incurable romantics at heart. Around them the rising murmur of conversation fluctuated, rising to new heights and then falling into a lull though the quiet was never for more than a few seconds at best. The flight had seemed longer than it aught owing to the boisterous behavior of their guests. For the most part Duo and his companions had been left alone after the initial curiosity exercised over his well known companion’s identity. He was amused, not offended by Quatre’s comments. They had been what he thought best described as ‘best mates’ for two years and each took every opportunity to rag the other over their individual pasts. He was a Sweeper brat and his friend was from one of the wealthiest families in the Earth Sphere and normally they would never have met let alone socialized on a daily basis. “Common myth.” Duo waved a hand airily in a dismissive gesture, unable to hide his broad grin. “Myth?” Quatre queried, trying to close out the noise level in the shuttle by concentrating on his companion and their conversation. “What about the Sweepers could possibly be construed as myth? Everyone knows what Sweepers do.” Duo could always be relied on for entertainment particularly if he was bored and long flights in circumstances such as this were guaranteed to provide them with little in the way of entertainment. The noise level in the crowded shuttle was not conducive to studying and there was little else they could do. The in flight entertainment left a great deal to be desired overall and Quatre determined to bring the subject up with his father. There had to be something the Winner could do to improve the amusement level on long haul shuttle flights. Experience had taught him there was nothing his father could not influence if he turned his mind to it. It was just a matter of bringing The Winner’s attention to bear on the desired fault. “Yeah? You think? There is this myth out there,” He waved a hand in the general direction of space. “Sweepers do nothing but travel around in their ships and think up ways to annoy the Trade Conglomerates. Well, yeah, I’ll admit that much is true, we do like to stick it to the big consortiums, including your dearest daddy but hey who could afford to run a ship like that? If we just bopped around and talked all the time how the hell would we keep the ships going? Believe me, Kitty dearest, we do a whole lot no one knows about.” “Like smuggling?” Quatre smirked at his friend and wiggled his eyebrows. “Have you been on any smuggling runs, Duo? Come on, you can tell me. I won’t tell another soul.” Duo thumped his head back against the head rest and chortled. “Where do you get all this drivel from Kitty Kat? Sweepers are not smugglers any more than Winner Enterprises is a pawn broker.” “Pawn Brokers!” Quatre stared at the boy with wide aquamarine eyes and burst out laughing. Thanking whatever spirits might rule space for his friend’s entertainment value to relieve the tedium of the flight Quatre half turned to place his back to the cabin in general and gave his concentration to Duo. Soon enough they would be off this shuttle and free of the antics and endless loud conversations of the students who were a last minute addition to the flight. “Pawn Brokers indeed. I must remember to mention that to my father and sisters. They no doubt could do with the laugh.” “Hey, you know me, I try to please. Sweepers are business men just like Winner Enterprises, only we operate independently out of space ships instead of office buildings. We are free to take ourselves where opportunity knocks and that places us as far out as the new station being built over Mars. Not even Winner Enterprises has managed to get out there yet.” Quatre flashed a grin and cocked his head to the side. “Oh yeah? You think?” Duo considered the youth seated beside him for a long moment and then shook his head. “Hey it’s a government operation not open to business interests until…” He paused, considering the ever widening grin turned on him and sighed. “Okay, maybe I’m wrong. If anyone could manage to wiggle into that restricted area of space it would be your dad. What did he do? Corner the market in paper cups for the water coolers?” “Why not? He has the market cornered in just about everything else so paper cups should be no exception.” Winner Enterprises had been operating on Earth in varied forms for the last two hundred years and expanded into space with the construction of the first of the colonies. A family concern from humble beginnings it had grown with each generation until it now spanned the Earth Sphere and was one of the largest companies in existence. The bulk of Winner Enterprises wealth was earned from supplying the day to day living needs of the colonies. A large proportion of it’s income was generated from the mining of resource satellites, once asteroids moved from the distant belt in long chains pulled by the freighter trains servicing the mining colonies. In the last one hundred years a new business concern had provided the Winner family with an influx of wealth and prestige few companies could contest against. The Winner laboratories had succeeded in creating viable artificial wombs and in the last fifty years had perfected methods of genetic manipulation. The ESUN government now contracted Winner Laboratories for designing specific human beings to meet growing needs in the community. With the artificial wombs and the ability to make viable embryos from same sex genetic samples it was now possible for homosexual couples to have children without surrogacy. With the government sanctioning and actively calling for the breeding of high level psychics the genetic manipulation laboratories were in high demand and Winner Enterprises was riding a wave of unparalleled success. “You should not forget toilet paper and toothpaste in that.” Quatre chuckled. The shuttle craft bucked and both winced as some of their fellow passengers clutched at their seats with frightened looks and the younger student’s startled cries bordering on panic. Duo snorted in disgust and rolled his eyes, wishing yet again they had the shuttle to themselves. The senior students on board were all from Tsuberov, all travel veterans and unmoved by the turbulence caused by the shuttle moving through the upper atmosphere of Earth. The younger passengers filling the shuttle were last minute additions to the flight from an L4 school excursion whose hired shuttle had encountered technical difficulties. Permission was garnered from the Tsuberov governing body for the students from the L4 establishment to share the flight to Earth with Tsuberov’s students. Had the Board of Governors not agreed the high school students would have needed to cancel the excursion, both an expensive loss of money for the families and disappointing for the student’s. After four hours trapped in a confined space with the vocal younger teens Duo found himself wishing permission had been denied. At the least alternative arrangements might have been made for another shuttle to accommodate the excursion at the cost of a few hours delay. He could feel their eyes on him. There were always eyes, of course but the intensity varied and after a while the novelty of staring would ware off. Some days he wondered how Quatre could stand all the attention and it was because of Quatre they were stared at. It was no big deal to him if he shared a shuttle with the heir to one of the largest corporations in the Earth Sphere but whenever Quatre was recognized the inevitable happened. They became the focal point and he personally was tired of the attention but Quatre seemed forever to be cheerful about it and remained approachable and impeccably polite. Quatre checked the time and leaned past Duo, ignoring the weight of the unwanted but accepted eyes following his every move and lightly nudged their traveling companion. He and his friends had completed their scheduled orientation flight around the colonies finishing up on L4 where he was permitted to spend a few days with his family. After the brief break from their tight schedule they had joined up with the six other students from Tsuberov for the return flight to Earth but as far as he was concerned he was traveling only with Duo Maxwell and Zechs Marquise. From the moment he had met Duo Quatre had been enchanted with the mix of brilliance and personality that made the Sweeper so dynamic an individual. Duo was one who could talk endlessly about nothing but the other boy whom he considered his friend was quieter, more subdued. Duo and Zechs were so radically different the contrast was striking and intrigued Quatre to no end. He never tired of watching the two, noting the similarities and the differences and how well they meshed despite their individual quirks. Zechs Marquise had rolled his eyes when the agreement to include the high school students on the flight had been received from Tsuberov. After boarding the shuttle and listening to their fellow passengers for all of five minutes he had growled softly and sunk low in his seat, no small accomplishment considering the length of his legs and dropped off to sleep. The speed with which he had fallen to sleep left Quatre in no doubt his companion had entered a trance state to escape all the noise. He only wished his education in the psi practices had reached that point but he was a little more than three years behind Zechs. His shields were at least adequate to protect him from the emotions of volatile teenagers. It had been wonderful to visit with some of his family though he kept the personal visit as short as possible without insulting any of his sister’s resident on L4 or his father. Only his social position had permitted them the four days on L4 free of their tight schedule. His twenty nine sisters were scattered throughout the Earth Sphere but there had been five on L4 at the time of his visit and it had been a pleasant few days spent at the Winner family complex. He had taken Duo and Zechs with him and was pleased his father had greeted them warmly although to an Arab, be they from Earth or L4, hospitality was beyond merely expected, it was vitally important. As he had known it would be it was not his father who had politely snubbed his companions as being beneath their social standing but rather those who worked for the Winner. It amazed him how snobbish the employees could be and how they had objected to the company he kept even after his father had so openly welcomed the two young men. He had learned through experience it was all too often the employees who were bigger snobs than the rich and famous. “Zechs. Wake up.” He lightly brushed a tendril of thought over the shield he detected protecting the sleeping mind, knowing his psi touch would be registered by the somnolent mind more than his physical touch. “We are into re entry.” Duo watched, counting the three slow evenly paced breaths marking the awakening of the tall man seated to his left. Everything Zechs did over the last year and a half was paced and careful. His psi education was exacting to contain his sensitivity to tolerable levels and Duo had no doubt he would be designated as one of the coveted Prime talents. The platinum blonde cranked open one eye and stared at the ceiling of the shuttle for all of ten seconds before wincing at the crick in his neck. “How long before we land?” His voice was a warm husky rumble, barely above a whisper. “Ten minutes.” Duo returned. “You slept like a log.” Long arms unfolded into a reaching stretch, his hands coming to rest against the seats air conditioning controls above him and he held the stretch for long seconds before relaxing slowly. He rotated first one shoulder and then the other, working some movement into stiffened muscles and eased upward in his seat. A soft hiss marked the finding of a tweak in his back and he leaned forward to rub gently at the knot in his muscles. He was a tall man standing a little over six foot two inches tall and was slender without being thin. Duo knew from sharing the suite that Zechs was hard muscled without an ounce of fat and very well put together. He was a striking example of a maturing young male and Duo only hoped when he equaled his friend’s years he was as kind on the eye. “I put myself out. Too much ‘noise’ for me to cope with long term.” Quatre glanced at the thirty last minute additions to the flight and sighed. His own mental shields were sealed tight against the onslaught from the minds and emotions of the group and he was a high talent empath with lower function telepathic talent. For Zechs who was approaching Prime level in both Teleptahic and Empathic talent the psychic atmosphere in the shuttle could be considered dangerous. The Tsuberov students were well trained before they were exposed to the public and the mass onslaught of mental noise one expected from a crowd. Some of the high school students so unexpectedly included on the flight were emergent psi’s who had as yet not been tested or tagged for training and had no idea how to contain their own mental noise. Regardless of whether or not they were psi emergent the teenage mind was often a wild and always active place. In larger numbers unrestrained teenage emotions were a menace to any high talent psi who did not shield his own mind. Quatre found himself wishing yet again another shuttle might have been found for them, perhaps then he would not be entertaining this low throbbing headache despite his shields. A less crowded shuttle would have made the long flight from L4 more pleasant. Their guests had been loud, both vocally and mentally and he was not surprised Zechs had chosen to place himself in a deep shielded sleep to escape the unwanted overflow. Were he not the Winner heir and the importance for him to make a good impression on everyone in his immediate vicinity been ingrained into him from childhood, then he too would have escaped in induced sleep. It was more than an inconvenience for him to always need to maintain a pleasant persona around even the most obnoxious of individuals. His training had held, even on this torturous flight and he had been, as usual, the perfect gentleman. Even if there was no press present to take the news to the Earth Sphere that Quatre Winner had not scratched his butt in public or picked his nose. “I only hope I sleep tonight.” Zechs eased himself fully upright and hissed in soft protest to the dull ache in his back and shoulders. “God, you would think they would put decent seats in these things.” “The designers need to consider the longer trips and disadvantages in sleeping on board. Mind you, most people are not quite so leggy either.” Quatre grinned and settled back in his seat, working his slender shoulders deeper into the padding of the seat. “I’m back in class tomorrow morning at nine thirty. Does anyone need to be up by eight thirty to make a class?” “Yeah.” Duo leaned forward and hunted blindly around below the forward seat eventually producing his small overnight bag they had been permitted to carry on board. He rummaged around within it for a few seconds and produced his time table. “I’ve got a class at nine forty five so I’ll need to be up about then. Zechs?” The blonde glared at his own small bag nested between his feet for a moment and shrugged. “I can get you up before I leave if you like? If you don’t mind being rousted out a bit before eight? I have a class at eight fifteen.” Duo looked up from studying his time table and exchanged a quick glance with Quatre. “You don’t sound too thrilled about it.” Quatre was scowling and turned in his seat to watch the paler blonde. “What class do you have at that hour of the morning? I thought you finished your early morning classes before we went on progress.” “Why should I be amused about it?” Zechs shrugged, refusing to meet either gaze. “I am what I am, not some…” He bit back whatever he had been about to say and sighed. “Etiquette lessons.” Quatre’s scowl deepened considerably and he considered his friend for a long moment. Zechs had been at a disadvantage at Tsuberov, an orphan who had known the streets until he had been tagged as a high talent Psi. Having a measurable psi talent had been enough to earn him a reprieve from the streets. The sensitivity of his talent and the rarity of the combination had been sufficient to earn him a place in the most prestigious educational facility for psi study. Big business and political parties actively sought such talented individuals for their staff and always had their ear tuned for exciting discoveries. Zechs had come to the attention of someone who had taken an interest in his life and suddenly the orphan from a backwater town, who had known only the basic government education, found him self in the middle of ‘snob central’. Tsuberov was a far cry from running on the streets and from the loose eye of the orphanage attendants and the transition had not been easy. The first two years had not been happy for the younger Zechs as he struggled trying to cope with so radical a change in his circumstances. His government education had not prepared him for the lifestyle nor the expectation of the instructors and Tsuberov had not been prepared for the blonde. Early altercations with students and teachers alike might have earned him expulsion had not his unknown benefactor somehow smoothed the Dean’s ruffled feathers. Etiquette had become a required study for the sullen young man. In his third year at Tsuberov he had made the acquaintance of one Duo Maxwell, Sweeper brat extraordinaire and certified genius in his own words. Making Duo’s acquaintance had been a life saver as from the moment they had laid sight on each other they had each understood the other. Zechs had undertaken, in his own words, two years of hell before the enforced etiquette instruction had done something for him he acknowledged as an improvement. The lessons had provided his first meeting with Duo. The Sweeper had been required to take the private etiquette training on arriving at the University and calmly informing his dorm supervisor to ‘bugger off’ he was busy. After only a week of the early morning scheduled class he had made a vid call to his sponsor who had listened calmly to his complaints and promptly had his lessons toned down. The Sweepers considered it important Duo be aware of basic manners and etiquette required to conduct business negotiations with all social classes and ethnic relations. They had not considered it necessary for him to be turned into what Duo termed a ‘stuck up prig’. Zechs had not been so fortunate. His howls of protest over two hour long sessions on a daily basis with the most hated teacher in the University to his benefactor via relayed voice mail had gone unanswered for the first year. On the first day of the second year at Tsuberov he had tried bolting from the grounds on learning the sessions would be continued, only to be caught by the security Chief himself. He had received a typed unsigned note from his benefactor stating he would suffer the lessons in good grace and become a young gentleman, not remain a young savage. The security staff had kept close watch on him the remainder of the year. The third year had dawned with the introduction of yet another etiquette session, though this time the lessons were reduced to one hour twice a week. A note from his benefactor warning him no repeat of the second year’s escapades would be tolerated had been awaiting him along with the security chief who escorted him to his first lesson. Personally he had though that a bit on the overkill side. He had learned there was no escaping Tsuberov but that did not mean he had to like the lessons. Enter Duo Maxwell who had been as eager as he to attend class after the first day and who had somehow, unforgivably, managed to worm his way out of the bulk of the lessons. His dorm supervisor had noted how well the two dealt with each other and despite Zechs being two years ahead of Duo in Psi study they had become room mates following a burst water pipe flooding Duo’s assigned single room. Academically Zechs was no more advanced than Duo in his basic studies and the two years difference in ages had seemed not to bother either of the young men. They had dealt well with each other while the single room had been repaired of damages done by water seepage. Events had settled somewhat during Duo’s first year and the notoriously volatile Zechs had been remarkably stable in the company of the ever cheerful Sweeper. Following Duo’s return to the university after the holiday break with the Sweepers they had resumed their sharing of a dorm. When Quatre had arrived at Tsuberov amidst all the usual Winner fanfare barely a month later the two youths had rolled their eyes and whispered about the arrival of the biggest snob in the Earth Sphere. The fanfare was enormous as it was considered a great feather in Tsuberov’s bonnet to have gained the patronage of the Winner and to be entrusted with the education, training and safety of his one male heir. To find the Winner included in their continuing and much hated etiquette lessons had been more than a surprise to both young men. Within a few meetings the boys had become fast friends, much to the horror of the University teaching staff. Subtle hints to the Winner heir he would be better served turning his attention to the son of the Duke of Kent or the Princess of Sanc, who had joined Tsuberov that year, were pointedly ignored. Annoyed by the staff’s objections to his new friends Quatre had called his father and, to the horror of the Dean, insisted on being moved into the same shared dorm as his friends. The Winner had expressed his belief his son was capable of determining the character of those he wanted to associate with and made no objection to the move. While Duo and Quatre cruised through the exacting curriculum with ease Zechs found progress much harder. Academically he was considered inferior to the standards Tsuberov demanded of its students. While he struggled with the subject matter of the university his Psi potential could not be so easily dismissed. He was a talented and sensitive psychic and had none of the difficulties when dealing with psi that marked his more conventional education. Through sheer stubbornness he had managed passable grades with the assistance of his younger dorm mates who took it upon themselves to tutor him where he most desperately needed the help. Quatre was only too aware of the older man’s embarrassment to be so lacking compared to everyone around him and it annoyed him. There was really no need for Zechs to consider him self inadequate. The Winner was of the opinion the only thing wrong with Zechs was he was aware none of his instructors believed he had a brain equal to the more socially acceptable students. He had not had a private tutor filled education as had the bulk of the student body at Tsuberov and everyone was aware of his origins. The government curriculum of the school he had attended had not included business oriented subject matter on the scale of the university and in such areas Zechs was lacking. He picked up theory quickly enough when he was tutored in their dorm, so quickly in fact that both Duo and Quatre had been surprised. It was more than annoying to them the moment Zechs entered a classroom with a teacher and fellow students he struggled to keep pace. “Etiquette? I thought you finished with those classes two months ago.” Duo sighed understanding why his friend had been less than happy to receive his new time table from their appointed supervisor on boarding the shuttle. Duo had been granted escape from the etiquette classes soon after the commencement of the first semester and Quatre had escaped them a short time later when his father sent word he was more concerned with his son’s business economics assessment. He felt his son would be better served focusing on the business side of matters for a time than on the niceties of dealing with multi racial customs. If Quatre picked up his grades he would find himself back in etiquette and protocol classes in the New Year. “Apparently my benefactor is not satisfied with my last assessment. I’m not, as yet, socially acceptable enough to be seen in public so I’m back in classes and this time I have to learn advanced dance skills.” At the distaste positively dripping from the word ‘dance’ Quatre exchanged amused looks with Duo. “You won’t have a problem with dancing, Zechs. You are naturally quick and light on your feet and you have no trouble telling your left foot from your right.” Pale blue eyes narrowed with displeasure. “I’m not laughing, Quatre. I suffered through dance sessions last year, why should I need to learn ‘advanced’ dancing skills.” “You’ll walk it with your coordination.” Duo grinned. “Lighten up, Man, it’s just dancing. Hey, who did they draft in for your partner?” Zechs sniffed and glared at the back of the seat in front of him. “I don’t know and I don’t care.” “Who is your teacher?” Quatre queried. “Guess.” The drawl in his voice was demonstrative enough of his dislike for his appointed teacher. Miss Letitia Johnston had had the dubious pleasure of teaching Zechs social skills since his first year at the university and the instant friction between the two had not helped matters. Zech’s sullen attitude had infuriated her in a quietly genteel sort of way and she had been merciless in her attempts to turn the ‘ragamuffin’ later designated ‘savage’ and finally ‘barbarian’ into a young gentleman. Progress had undeniably been made and Quatre was of the opinion the woman deserved a medal for dealing so long with Zechs and not committing murder. “Why do I have to learn how to crick my pinky finger just so? Why do I need to learn to tie a cravat when the bloody things have been out of fashion now for fifteen years? Why do I have to learn how to use twenty different eating utensils for one meal when one set would do just fine? Why do I have to stand straight and perfectly still for two freaking hours without moving and why do I have to learn to dance?” “Because you are a Tsuberov student and you have to hold your head up in public and maintain Tsuberov’s high standards.” Duo grinned and waved a hand to negate the fierce scowl turned his way. “Come on Zechs, it’s not for much longer. Only another six months, maybe less if your next rounds of assessments go well and then you’ll be done here. You can go back to the real world and find a niche there. So, had any decent offers?” Zechs sighed and his scowl deepened. It was obvious he was not happy and learning to dance had nothing to do with his depression. “Yeah, I’ve had a couple of offers.” Quatre watched him and waited, expecting there to be an elaboration forthcoming. Every high performing psi could command lucrative contracts on completion of their training and with a Prime Empathic Telepath maturing the offers would be more than merely lucrative, no matter his family background. His expectation turned into a small scowl when no elaboration was made and he reached to lightly touch the man’s hand, the feather light fleeting touch of one telepath to another. “If you are not happy with the financial terms of the contract or the conditions outlined within then say so. You are not yet twenty one and there is plenty of time for you to decide where your interest lies. What were the offers? Business? I know there are plenty of corporations who would consider it more than worth their while to secure a Prime in your field. Winner Enterprises employs two Primes in your field of expertise as aides to the Board of Directors and to my father specifically. Politicians with a high profile are always in need of a strong telepath too. There is no need to concern yourself with what awaits you after you finish at Tsuberov. With your Levels you will be sought after.” “What was wrong with the offers?” Duo queried, rubbing at a cramped leg muscle and silently wishing the flight would end so he could stretch his legs. He wanted to walk around for an hour or two before he set his abused backside down on a solid surface again. In his opinion the human body was made to sit only for so long. “I don’t know.” “You don’t know?” Quatre glanced up as the shuttle shifted, dropping suddenly for a few seconds before leveling off. He was forced to wait for the screams of the startled younger students to settle before he could speak without the need to shout. “Idiots.” he muttered then turned back to his friend. “What do you mean, you don’t know? You’ve studied the dos and don’ts of contracts and what constitutes a good contract from a bad contract.” The blonde head tipped back until he was staring at the overhead air conditioning controls and shrugged. “I don’t know because I never saw the offers.” Duo blinked, straightening in his seat. “Come again? I don’t get it.” “I do know offers for my services were made before we left for the tour of the colonies, because the Dean informed me they had been received. He never, however, chose to inform me of exactly what those offers were nor did he offer to show me the drafts or discuss details on my return.” “But you have to be consulted.” Quatre looked his shock and his frown was deepening. “If you are going to accept a contract you have to know the expected conditions and work outline so you can determine if you can handle the work. There should be a probationary period included in the agreement to be certain you can tolerate working with the people you would be required to socialize with. Corporations are only too aware if they want a high level Psi working for them then they have to guarantee to meet your needs.” Zechs rubbed at his eyes for a moment and met his friend’s intent gaze. “I know the theory of contracting high level Psychics, Quatre. Lord knows it was drummed into my head in class often enough but the fact remains I was not shown the offers. Apparently my benefactor decided the offers were unsuitable and issued instruction with the Dean I was to remain un contracted until further notice.” Duo whistled softly. “Sucks, Man. Who ever it is must have high standards.” “We can’t tell without seeing copies of those contracts just how unsuitable the conditions of employment might have been.” Quatre argued. “For anyone to attempt to issue contract to a Tsuberov student without making a really decent offer is unheard of. It is also considered poor form to withhold contract details from the potential employee.” “I know all of that but you know there are no other Tsuberov students in my situation. Let’s face facts, okay? I’m only here as a Tsuberov student because someone I don’t know decided they might have a use for me. I don’t know who pays my bills and dictates I have to take dancing lessons or why. I don’t have a dad who owns the Earth Sphere who can quibble over the fine print and dictate what is or not a fair contract. What I have to deal with is an unknown busybody with a massive wallet who thinks they own me and acts accordingly. I feel like a piece of meat up for the highest bidder and the hand that signs on the contract’s dotted line might not be the highest bidder or the best of the bunch. Be honest with me, will you? What is to stop my benefactor from coming forward and saying he, she or it paid ‘yay’ amount of money for my education so I’m to be indentured into their service until I pay said moneys back? Is that not what the Psychic Institute does with its trainees?” Quatre grunted softly and noted the warning light flicker overhead reminding everyone to remain in their seats and refrain from removing their seat belts. He was afraid his friend had a valid argument and it worried him. He had never had to worry about his own future as it was all planned out for him before he was even born and he had been taught to accept it. What would it be like not knowing your place in the order of things? Quatre did not like where his thoughts were going and his only redeeming thought at this time was that they had time. Zechs had months remaining at Tsuberov before he would be ready to contract his services and the Winner heir had found a crusade. “We are on final approach so we can’t exactly spend a lot of time on this now. Zechs, I want you to promise me you will not agree to sign anything without first letting me look over the contract, okay? I’ll make it my business to be sure you get a fair deal and you will not be held under a reserve sub clause for your benefactor to dictate future conditions should the need arise. I’ve learned a great deal about the format of contracts Tsuberov has not as yet included in our classes. Let me be your private agent and I guarantee you will receive a fair price for your services, fair conditions to work under and a fair term of service. You should be free and indeed are free by law to refuse a contract if you feel it will not suit you. If an agreement can not be reached you are within your rights to ask for mediation. As for the other… If your benefactor should come forward with a contract of his own containing a set period of employment to pay off expenses incurred in your education… We’ll think of something to counteract it. I’ll talk to my dad if I need to, to see what can be done to see conditions are not to your detriment.” Duo scowled at the chair back in front of him and settled deeper into his seat. He was thankful he had a guaranteed place waiting for him when he finished his term at the University. For him there was no mystery surrounding who was paying his way while he studied and he knew why they were doing it. He had open feedback arranged with his Sweeper guardians so that if he had any gripes, queries or concerns he could express them to the Captain. He had been assured before his first year at Tsuberov he could expect his concerns to be fairly and speedily dealt with. The issues concerning the etiquette lessons had assured him of just how fairly and speedily he could expect action to be taken. It sucked his friend appeared to be at the mercy of his benefactor and he suspected said benefactor was planning to take advantage of Zechs not being at his majority when the semester finished. With Zechs still legally a minor until the day he turned twenty one he could be railroaded into a contract if circumstances could be managed just so. It was a sad fact of life some people in the big wide ESUN made a living out of exploiting the talents of others. While he could not say something in particular scratched his ‘something is rotten’ bump, this situation reeked of potential to abuse his friend. // I wonder if there might not be an opening amid the Sweepers he would be suitable for? One of the Captains may be interested in a Empathic Telepath although I expect there would be considerable difficulty in the Sweepers meeting the contract price for a Prime. Still, Zechs does not want money. He’s not the sort to think money is the be all and end all of the Universe. His benefactor would probably veto the idea anyway and can do so legally until he has his majority. Well, maybe he would not be suited to a Sweeper’s life and there is the matter of finding the credits to secure his services and then keep him. He’d need shielded quarters and that does not come cheap. It is expensive keeping telepaths and empaths and the cost needs to be justified. Profit is important.// Quatre sighed as he mulled over various ideas on how best to deal with the situation. He had always been surrounded by family and it was heartbreaking to him his two best friends had no such back up. While it was true the Winner family was very far from what most termed normal no one could deny they looked out for each other. He had twenty nine sisters, some of whom he had only met once or twice in his life, but for all their distance they kept in touch. They all exchanged emails regularly and expressed interest in each others business, personal and romantic affairs, a fact which caused him to exercise caution in his communications. Romantic affairs were a rather delicate subject with him as he was not as yet prepared for his father to learn of his romantic attachment. Mr. Winner Senior was not likely to be amused on learning his one and only son was homosexual though in this day and age being gay was no impediment to having children to continue the Winner dynasty. //Allah knows my father had thirty children. So long as there are suitable surrogate mothers out there and now the artificial wombs make it even easier what has he to complain about? A generic laboratory can now produce a natural child between a same sex couple. Still, for all it does not mean the end of the dynasty I am not eager to tell him I have no interest in women.// The shuttle came down to Earth with a thud and the engines roared, the cabin shuddering under deceleration. Zechs Marquise sighed softly and looked out of the window, hoping to see more than tarmac. Quatre considered the possible repercussions of informing his father he was gay and Duo wondered if the Sweepers were making a reasonable profit and would have the financial backing to bring his project to life after his education was completed. Tsuberov was home, at least for the moment and they had been away long enough to want to be back amid familiar surroundings. “Settle down!” A teacher was on her feet, moving amid the highly excited high school students and trying to contain their volume to a reasonable level during the final stage of the flight. “Remain seated until the shuttle stops. When the doors are opened you will each take your on board luggage and move in orderly lines into the terminal. There will be no screaming, pointing or improper behavior.” t.b.c. Karina Robertson 2006 ----------------------------------- Authors Notes: Duo Maxwell: Psi Student , 3rd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 8 Psychokinetic ability, projected level 9. Sending Telepath Level 5. Colony of Origin L2 Cluster [18 years of age] Sweeper adoptee. Under pre contract agreement with Sweepers. Quatre Rababer Winner: Psi student, 2nd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Current Level 5 Telepath, projected Level 7, Current Level Receiving Empath 9.3, projected Level 10, Prime. Current Sending Empath Level 2, projected Level 4. Colony of Origin, L4 Cluster [18 years of age] Zechs Marquise: Psi Student 5th year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 10 Receiving/Projecting Empath [approaching Prime Designation] + Level 9 Sending /Receiving Telepath, Projected L10 function. Finder function suspected, not officially registered. Country of origin, Luxemburg. [20 years of age] |
