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"Alternative Directions: Options "Written By: Karina Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or the lovely
boys and their girls in the series. Wish I did. Please don't sue me.
I haven't even got a brass razoo to give you. Rating: Deffinately PG in Australia, at the moment,
but probably safer to say R for later chapters. Not sure about international
ratings Warnings: It will be 6x2, even though it does
not start out that way. After all, Zechs and Duo never met in Gundam
Wing and only spoke briefly over a com line in Endless Waltz. I've
tried to keep them in character as I saw them in the series. A bit
of language creeping in under stressful conditions. Pairings: eventual 6x2, past 2xH, 2+H,6x9, 1+R
Summary: Directions is set post Endless Waltz
and roughly 2 years have passed. Zechs and Noin are on Mars and Duo,
after spending some time with Hilde in a relationship leaves L2 to
join Preventers. Hilde was not happy about his decision. I guess enough
said. Here t'is, and I hope you like it. This is also AU for the standard
setting, as well as the series and Endless Waltz. Spoilers: Gundam Wing Series and Endless Waltz Many thanks to Dulin for volunteering to beta this. //... // thoughts
"Alternative Directions: Options"
Peacemission H65193P Sanc Registry In transit Time: 06:30 [ Sanc time coincides with Ship time] Howard Howard tossed the report onto the desk and slowly stretched cramped limbs. Some days he was sure he was too old for this level of operations and he should consider retirement but the idea of being idle terrified him. He had never been one to sit by while the world turned around him and the thought of giving up his active status within the Sweeper community to become an old man on the sidelines did not sit well with him. //I never was one who could keep my nose on my own side of the fence.// He settled into the padded chair behind the desk with a soft groan. He had to get his fingers dirty and one could not do that sitting on the sidelines. He could direct others in the play of life but non-participation was not a part of his nature even though his bones were weakening and his hair was whitening. It was he who could control his own actions, not others, and looking on while others pulled and pushed at fate did not suit him. Idleness and ignorance was an uncomfortable coat for him to wear. Many times he had been told he had too big a nose and to keep it out of the affairs of others. Fault or not he was not inclined to ignore the world around him. Lightly he stroked his nose and smirked. Such a nice pointy proboscis it was, just right for digging around and sniffing out the clandestine doings of men and women who should know better. Oh yes, a prominent proboscis was an advantage. All in all, by every measure he knew to apply in judgment, he determined he had led a good life and was generally content with the personal stamp he had placed on the Sweepers. His sphere of influence had expanded and narrowed in cycles throughout his life though he admitted his dabbling had on more than one occasion led to mistakes. Mistakes were after all a simple fact of life and unavoidable. In some instances those mistakes had birthed disasters which had, sometimes years later, affected the very shape of the civilization of mankind as it now stood. It was not every man who could make such a claim and he was uncertain if he should make it with pride or humility … certainly not with despair. No, he could not despair of the part he had played in the shaping of the world he knew this day. The world could have been far worse had he ignored the part he could play in its development. Their civilization, like the planet itself, might have been brought to irreparable ruin. //I can not say my life has been boring. It has been anything but and in hindsight I really don’t know if I would have done anything differently … Well, perhaps that is not true. Still, someone would have come up with the designs for mobile suits. I was not the only one working on the project. I was just a part of one team experimenting with design specifications and my team succeeded first with a feasible design. Not that that is an excuse for the Pandora's box we opened.// No, he could not say with any degree of certainty he would do anything different with his life should he ever receive the opportunity to relive it. For better or for worse the world turned, unmindful of the petty designs of mankind. If one did not wish to go insane from the mistakes of one’s own past then one had to learn to accept one’s role in that turning. For good or bad. It was all a part of the cycle. It was simple truth to remember he was not the only one whose actions affected the course of world events. There were others who had had far more of an effect on the development of mankind than he littered throughout history. Most people didn’t even know of his part in the development of mobile suits and that anonymity had served him in good stead thus far. In basic language he was after all just a Sweeper, an ordinary man who from time to time had given a helping hand to others. He shook his head at his thoughts, disgusted with himself for the turn his thoughts were taking. It was happening repeatedly this day and he could not afford to indulge his sensitivities. He was avoiding certain important issues yet again and he really needed to get on with the business at hand. He did not understand why the melancholy mood took him down this road at this time when he needed all of his wits about him. He could not afford to make a mistake and have the Sweepers come under the scrutiny of the ESUN. //Does it make me a coward to sit here and ignore my role in the past and its subsequent echoes? It’s an echo I’m about to deal with after all. An echo from more than a few years ago as that brat Raydon is involved after all. I should have clipped that one under the ears a few more times than I did.// A Kushrenada. After all this time he learned the bright young thing who had appeared out of nowhere one fateful day turned out to be from that manipulating pack of political and military-minded … //No, that’s not fair to anyone, least of all Raydon. He’s hiding his past, even now and after learning who he really is I don’t think I want to know who it was he was running from. With the influence of the Kushrenada family then and now I shudder to think what it was that saw the boy keep himself hidden for so long. // Romefeller? He suspected there was far more to that organization than his own dealings with them in the past had suggested. Raydon had mentioned them, told him he had come to him because of their past mutual association but he had left out the details that even now Howard was uncertain he wanted to know. //Coward.// he chastised himself. Nor was it just his involvement with Raydon that echoed down through the years to touch on this day. Those other five who like he had worked on the design of mobile suits and had begun to fear what it was they released onto the world stage were a part of his past. Dead now? He had not found a single indication to cause him to suspect even one of them might have survived. No guarantee. After all he had not suspected Zechs Merquise still breathed either. //Are they dead? I was involved, I admit that, but the other five dabbled far more than I did in events and took their dabbling to extremes. Look where it got them. Did they only compound the events creating the Gundams? That’s the problem with dabbling in world events, you never really know if you are helping or making matters worse. I had my part to play in how the game evolved and I am not clean of guilt. Far from clean. I will never be free from the shadow of my actions. I’ll never be free of bloodied hands but I can’t permit myself to wallow in visions of blood and destruction. I’m too old now to worry about the past. It’s the present and the future that concern me and anyway, things are better now than they were.// At least for the moment though how long it would remain so was another matter. The ESUN of today had been born from the mistakes of the past when the Alliance had become more of a threat than the blessing its designers had intended it be. The road to hell was paved with good intentions and the founding generations could not foresee the natures of the subsequent generations who inherited the foundations set down. Seemingly perfect solutions over time developed flaws and those flaws generally degenerated into faults of world shattering proportions. Every new leader to take power had their own ideas on how to achieve desired goals and in developing those ideas the basic framework eventually had to be altered. If not by the founders then by those who followed. Mistakes had been made that eventually led to senseless violence, needless killing and ultimately generations torn by oppression and war. It was a cycle that repeated endlessly and why should he think this current peace would see a different fate evolve over time? He was too much a realist to believe in that particular pipe dream. He should not regret the price paid in human lives. Without those lives sacrificed the world would have no new chance to live in peace. History had proven all too often it took mass deaths to change the course of spiraling oppression and he honored those who had sacrificed. He understood Kushrenada’s desire to honor the memories and names of those who had died, and not just those who had fought for him but also against him. The man had been an advocate of history and knew all too well the costs incurred in breaking out of the cycle of oppression. A high price had been paid and shamefully history showed how this peace would go. There would be a period where all seemed to be going well and then there would be a single mistake made. That mistake would lead to others compounding the problems birthed and events would progress inexorably into disaster. It would take time, it would not eventuate overnight but it would come and he could not foresee how this new world order might avoid the eventual fate all its predecessors had experienced. He did not want to see those mistakes repeated and the hope they had now turn into despair. Those who had died deserved more than for their lives to pay for a few paltry years of uneasy peace. If it should prove to be necessary he knew he would once again dabble in the affairs of those who stood at the highest echelons of their society. For better or worse he would not know as he would long have shrugged off this mortal coil when the dust settled on the new world order. Eventually someone would get it right and mankind would know true peace. That lay with future generations and until then he, like others, would simply do the best they could. //I’m not the only one who must be thinking about those days now. About their part in the events resulting in the peace we have. It’s only a young peace and still being crafted. Baby steps and we cannot afford to stumble. Can we hold on to this peace?// It worried him, the reaction to Raydon’s opening gambit. He was afraid the man’s timing was off and announcing the presence of the Station Alliance to the masses at this time would crash and burn the fledgling peace. So soon after the war, people would be wary and the government may feel threatened. What might decide the acceptance of the Alliance or throw them all back into the chaos of war would in all possibility not be human nature or reasoning. It might be the simple expedient of distance. Mars was months away from Earth and the Asteroid belt was months away from Mars. The sheer distances involved and the expenses incurred in squabbling over territory and identity might keep everyone at the peace table. Raydon had never acted foolishly or rashly and had always thought out his actions with care and attention to detail. The timetable called for the revelation to be made in at least another six or seven years time. Why now? Surely it was not because of Zechs? //He’s a Kushrenada. None of them have been shown to be fools or idiots. What does he know that I don’t?// It was as big a surprise to him as to everyone else in the Earth Sphere to learn the man shared common blood with the former World Sovereign. He had not known Raydon’s past but that was of no concern to him though undoubtedly others would not agree with him. Certainly the Sweeper Council would sit up and take notice and possibly perform world class gymnastics trying to determine how best to deal with him now the secret was out. The very name Kushrenada conjured images of grand schemes and grand schemes tended to lead to conflict. That damnable cycle again. While he did not expect Raydon to confide in him the extent of his plans they would need to have words concerning the extent of his ambitions. What had changed? Why had he chosen to break the schedule he had explained they would be keeping to introduce the Station Alliance to the ESUN and earn a peace treaty and recognition? Admittedly the ESUN had unknowingly thrown down a gauntlet to the Station Alliance. The ESUN had not known they would be implicating not a few scattered but efficient pirates but a real power who, by design more than by accident, was in a position to threaten the resources of the hub. The Stations were secreted amid the asteroid belt and the belt was the source of the bulk of the ESUN’s mining operations. With the Stations known it would not take anyone long to worry they might effectively restrict trade between the hub planet and its colonies and the mining sites amid the asteroids. A simple word from Raydon was all it would take to throw the ESUN into chaos. Those in power on Earth and in the Colonies would be only too aware of the danger and be intent on protecting their precious resources. Raydon and his people in control of Stations Two and Three had assured him they did not intend to disrupt the status quo of power amid the Earth Sphere when they announced their presence. He thought they were dreamers to think their presence would be accepted without contention and he knew they could not forever remain undetected. With each new station coming on line the risks of detection escalated. //Would any time be a good time to tell the ESUN they don’t have exclusive rights to the treasure trove of a failed planet?// Possibly not, he admitted. Greed worked its insidious way into the natures of even the most peaceful of men and women. Threaten to take away their life line and you would have a screaming and kicking animal intent on taking off your hand. It would be much the same in the government as people really began to consider the implications. Raydon had not confided his every thought to him and he could only wonder at the man’s ambitions. A perfect example of how much Raydon had not entrusted to their friendship was the little matter of Zechs Merquise. Raydon had obviously known for some time Zechs was not dead. The son of a bitch had known Howard had been wallowing in guilt for not paying enough attention to the boy … for failing him. They could have avoided the confrontation on Libra if he had paid enough attention to the former Oz Special. Hindsight. Marvelous thing, of course, but of no feasible use to him. Raydon had known and kept his mouth shut. //He knew the boy was alive and he kept it secret, even knowing how I … It’s in the past but still I can’t leave it alone. I’ll want an accounting from him over the omission and I don’t care if Merquise made him promise on his blood. I want to know what he thought he was doing keeping Zechs’ survival a secret from me.// Zechs Merquise. Or was it Zechs now? Did he call himself Zechs or Milliardo Peacecraft? Was he well? How had he survived the explosion of the Libra? Had the explosion left him crippled physically or psychologically? Was he scarred? Was he beating himself up constantly with regrets? Was he thinking himself alone? The questions were endless and he dragged his mind away from that spiral into distraction. There was too much to do to ask questions no one could answer. //I think I saw enough of you to know you probably are thinking yourself to be alone and with good reason. Boy, where the hell in the Earth Sphere could you go where you would not be seen as the biggest danger to humanity that ever existed? When I first saw you … Damn. When I saw you for the first time I don’t know what I expected. I never thought you could be hard enough to threaten humanities very existence. My mistake. My failure. I never really looked at you, did I? I never looked hard enough to see more than the Soldier who had been betrayed and cast adrift. I compounded that mistake by never really listening to what you were saying during our discussions. Did you know, or at least suspect, at that time what you would eventually do? Or was it something more … something to do with that beast Kushrenada created?// For his own peace of mind he would like to think the later actions taken were the results of some insanity birthed of the mobile suit’s operating system. He would like to think so but being honest with himself was something he had promised himself many years in the past. He could too easily recall those intense blue eyes and the growing tension and quietness of the man as reports of the expansion of the Oz space forces had filtered in. There had been a wealth of genuine concern and something else. Something he could not quite put his finger on. A hint of knowledge Zechs had never shared with him. What had intrigued Howard had not been that odd sense of separation from the crew by the young pilot. What had most affected him had been Merquise’s curious reaction to his betrayal by his Commanding Officer. Kushrenada and Merquise were reportedly friends and had been since childhood. Considering their ties there had been a marked absence of hurt at the betrayal that had seen him paired up against impossible odds to die for the cause. // I often wondered … You never saw it as betrayal did you? Damn. I am still missing pieces of the puzzle and important pieces. I suspect a great deal but I have no proof. Kushrenada was not betraying you but giving you the opportunity to escape. If anyone would know the extent of your skills it would be him and he would know you could survive that battle. Survive to escape and then what?// Seemingly impossible odds had been laid out before the young pilot and at the time he had been sure the intent was to kill Merquise. Later he learned Merquise and Kushrenada had known each other for years and would know the other’s strengths and weaknesses with an intimacy only long association could grant. It was then, during the battle for the Libra, when he had been overcome by events and must react or die that he had begun to wonder. Someone had to have been directing events. It was like a well thought-out play, the script far reaching and forcing the audience to watch with bated breath. The bulk of the mobile suits and all of the mobile dolls that had been in existence had been gathered together in one small isolated area of space. Such a gathering was unprecedented. From that battle everyone had emerged equal, their ability to wage war crippled and everyone willing to talk peace. The five who had created the Gundams had died, at least he was sure they were dead. The Earth’s defense forces were decimated, the forces in space equally as depleted and that abomination Libra had been destroyed. The confrontation had resulted in the very selective destruction of the weapons of war that could decimate both the colonies and the Earth. Just how much of the Libra incident was opportunism leading to world shaking event and how much of it had been planned years in advance? He had determined to learn more in the aftermath and to that end had begun his own investigation. Over time he had found others who like him had sought to learn the sequence of events. He was waiting for the latest round of evaluations to hit his desk and expand on his picture of events. He could not dismiss the sense of responsibility he felt for much of the war. After all he had been a part of the team that invented mobile suit technology and the basics of Tallgeese had been his own pet design. He was responsible and he wanted to know it all. Or at least know as much as anyone would be able to know. Others out there in the Earth Sphere, would-be historians, were chasing every lead they could find to determine and understand the chaotic sequence of events. The victors wrote history but this time independent parties would have a hand in the writing for future generations. Perhaps it would help to keep the cycle of war and peace controlled. His eyes wandered from the folder on his desk to the side table and the line of photographs he kept there. People would be surprised if they knew who he included in his rogues gallery. They were all there, frozen in time. Yuy and Chang, Barton and Winner, Noin and Sally Po. Relena and Une were later additions to his collection but he felt they should be a part of the gallery as they all had had their part to play in the war. One of the more recent additions he would never have thought would make its appearance there but it had not been a choice he had made lightly. Treize Kushrenada’s face somehow always seemed to be turned to him, those sapphire eyes always seemed to see into the depths of him and whisper to him. Take nothing for granted. Look deeper. Is it really so simple? Yes, Kushrenada needed to be there and it was an odd coincidence that his picture was placed to the left of that other Kushrenada. Of course Raydon was in his gallery. Kristian Kushrenada, name now known and his eyes, so different from his cousin’s, held that same power to make him question his own motives. //Bloody Kushrenada's. Is there no escaping them?// It was meant without malice. He could not hold it against them because they seemed to know so much that escaped the common man. They were singularly uncommon and one day he might understand what marked them as being so different. One day but not today. His eyes drifted slowly over the young faces and finally, as always, rested on the two frames in the center of them all. They were always the last faces he looked at and always the ones that held his gaze the longest. His boys. The two he felt ties to though he could not satisfactorily explain why even to himself. They simply were his boys. Duo, his sprite who named himself the God of Death and had a zest for life second to none and the paler, enigmatic man whom he had misunderstood and failed. He had not seen deeply enough into that one’s character in time to avert events. If it had been possible to avert events. These two were the ones who drew him like magnets. The L2 street urchin who had the guts and spirit to defy his birth and had become a Sweeper. He had kept his hand on Duo though he had been careful to keep his interest unknown to the child who had reminded him so much of himself in long ago years. He had not wanted to be just one amid many and Duo had had that same fire to succeed. It had been on Earth and as a Gundam Pilot they had finally met face to face but close contact had only affirmed what he had felt before. The boy would always hold a special place in his heart. Not a boy anymore but a young man. Given the life he had led Howard had to wonder if Duo had ever been a boy. An adult in a child’s body seemed closer to the truth but for a time, during his stay amid the Sweepers he had known something of what a normal childhood might have held for him. There had been worse upbringings and the boy had turned out to be a fine young man. //Had he ever been a child? Probably not since the day he needed to fend for himself on the streets. I don’t think he was much of a kid as a Sweeper brat either but he found a whole new world. By then he was too old for his age.// His gaze flicked to the platinum-haired bombshell who had kept too much to himself and who felt too deeply. Child of pacifists, witness to massacre, soldier and despised from one end of the ESUN to the other as an insane lunatic. He had had a lot of time to think on the past and to review every word they had exchanged. He had misread the boy and failed him but in this instance hindsight might not be too late. It might yet allow him to let the young man know he was not alone and someone understood what had driven him to such extremes. //I think I know, Zechs Merquise. I think I know why you took the action you did but I have to ask myself if you ever really understood the cost?// Sorrowfully, he suspected Zechs had indeed known the cost to both himself and to the Earth Sphere. He suspected Zechs had been hoping in the final play, when he counted on the Gundams stopping Libra, he would die and be spared the aftermath of his actions. Not through cowardice but out of a skewed sense of honor that so many had died and he did not deserve to live when they had paid the ultimate sacrifice. A hard choice but he alone had not made it. Kushrenada was another in the same vein. Cut from the same cloth. Both intent on killing themselves and in their deaths peace would be born. //Bloody fools, the pair of you.// How could he have known from the moment he had witnessed the uneven battle over the ocean he would be haunted by blue eyes and pale hair? Why? Somehow Zechs had struck him as always being alone and so used to that solitary condition that he accepted it as normal. Yet the boy was a team player, not a lone wolf. A trained soldier and exemplary officer he had known the value of a team and how to use it to best effect. Even when other members in that team had no idea they were being included in plans and schemes capable of shaking up an entire civilization and threatening the destruction of the planet itself. When the cameras had picked out that disturbance and revealed a battle to him he had been helpless. The sight of the white behemoth from his past had shaken him to the core and he had not initially believed the evidence of his eyes. How could he have done anything other than investigate? Tallgeese was supposed to be so much scrap metal and the rumors of a suit with that name being used by the Oz Specials had at first peeked his curiosity. He had initially dismissed his unease and marked it down as coincidence. Until he had witnessed the battle from afar and the camera had captured in the center of its frame the lightning fast, gleaming white dream from his past. The sheer pace and ferocity of the battle had taxed his ship’s sensors to the limit. They actually had very little footage of the battle but it was enough to confirm to him the identity of the suit. Much of the fight had taken place underwater but there was no denying the truth. It was Tallgeese and that had made whatever was going down his business and he had determined to find out. How could he not have investigated? It stood to reason he would be interested in whoever had been able to master the monster he had created. So many pilots had died trying to master his dream. There it was, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, kicking some major ass with state of the art military mobile suits dropping like flies around it. How could he not want to meet the man who had mastered his brain child? It was a curious technique. He had never before witnessed a pilot make a massive machine like that dance in the air. Each deadly movement had looked so effortless. It had been a beautiful and inspiring sight and he had determined to learn who the pilot was and how he had acquired a suit that was supposed to be scrap metal and why he was battling in the middle of nowhere. He could so clearly remember the beach. By the time he had brought the barge into the area the fight was long over, the air quiet and the sun close to setting. Tallgeese stretched out almost protectively over the unconscious pilot laid out on pale golden sands. The wealth of white gold hair, the sparkle of the lowering sun on the water and reflected on the suit’s plates. He had looked so young. Sometimes he wondered why none of his crew had questioned his decision but they had sprung into action at his word. Pilot and machine had been gathered up with all haste as he was certain there would be others interested in the conflict and he wanted to be gone quickly. It was later, when they had Zechs safely on the barge he learned how close the young man had come to being just another statistic of the suit’s killer record. **** * “Well, I have to admit I am impressed.” “Yeah? By what?” It took a lot to impress the Doc and he was curious. Around them the medical bay of the barge surged under the rising sea. He knew they would have a storm by dawn but such was common in these waters. By midday at the latest the weather would be its usual glorious tropical self, baking the ache out of old bones. “By your ability to find trouble even in the middle of the ocean. Where the hell did this one come from?” The callused hand lightly smoothed out a strand of shimmering hair. “Flotsam, Arthur. Flotsam on a beach.” The medic snorted in amusement and turned his attention to the x-rays, holding the films in each hand up to the overhead light. His eyes followed the knotted line of ribs clearly showing the signs of having been broken and healed in the recent past. “Well, I don’t know who he is but its clear he’s been through some pretty shitty treatment in the last few months. He’s had some expert medical help but that battle we witnessed has broken a couple of ribs. Old breaks have been stressed and some have give out under pressure but all in all it’s not as bad as it could have been.” “So is he going to make it?” He was relieved the doctor seemed unconcerned with his patient’s health. He had known the man long enough to know he could be a tyrant when dealing with patients but there was little concern evident. “Yeah. Tough bastard.” Again that touch to cascading pale hair. “Young, but the military seem to take ’em younger and younger every year. No doubt they are running out of cannon fodder.” He chose to ignore that. Arthur had lost two of his sons and a brother to the war. “How long do you think he will be unconscious?” He wanted to talk to the man. Ask him how he acquired Tallgeese and what she was like to fly. “Give him a few hours. He’s been through some pretty hefty g-forces and been knocked around but physically he’s sound. No more battles though until these new breaks have a chance to knit. He’s mainly exhausted, I’d say, but the young are resilient and I’d venture a guess that this one’s been trained to ignore weakness. There are limits beyond which the human body just shuts down. I’d say he hit his before any serious damage could be done.” He waved the x-rays. “Eventually we all learn.” Howard studied the flowing cascade of white gold spilling over the pillows. Young indeed and there were darkening bruises on that pale golden chest to attest to the abuses suffered in the fight. His hands clenched on the gold epaulets of the red jacket draped around the back of the chair. He refused to look at the wide belt and the buckle that clearly stated the origins of the pilot. “Only Oz Specials have that ornate style.” The doctor murmured, watching the gnarled old fingers tighten on the gold braiding. “He’s clearly Oz so what are you going to do with him? There will be trouble for sure if the Kid shows up again while he’s on board.” “I’ll decide later.” He had time to make his decisions and it was certainly not something he wanted to consider should Duo Maxwell find this officer on the barge. The doctor arched an eyebrow but chose not to push at the present time. He was only too aware Howard seemed to have taken a personal interest in this pilot which was a rarity in itself. Howard usually kept himself aloof from all but his personal crew though he had dealt personally with the Gundam Pilots, particularly the braided wonder. “What about the suit? What do you want done with that? The behemoth's bigger than Deathscythe and could probably give the kid a run for his money.” “Tallgeese is stowed below decks and I have a crew working on it.” Tallgeese against the Deathscythe? Yes, that would be a fight worth watching but he didn’t want it to happen. The physician looked surprised. “It’s called Tallgeese? Weird name. You are repairing it? Going to pass it on to the rebellion?” Howard frowned down at the young face. In this state he hardly looked a threat but if this was who he thought it was … and how many officers did Oz have who looked like this, he knew he was playing with dynamite. This, the best Oz had produced, was capable of handling the Tallgeese. He had never thought to find anyone who could handle the prototype let alone make it dance. //I never thought I would see the suit again and I certainly never thought I would see it in the air and active. Zechs Merquise. That’s who you are. The one they call Treize’s boy. His lapdog. // The crews he had working on Tallgeese had brought to him the shattered remains of what could only be the Oz ace’s famous mask. There could be no mistaking it and it served only to increase his already raging curiosity. He had his feelers out discreetly trying to learn what was happening to result in Oz’s ace fighting so many Alliance suits single-handed. There was no indication in the area of Oz back-up units and he had a very nasty suspicion about the battle. Had he and his crew witnessed a battle or an execution? “No.” Until he had said it he had not been certain what he would do. Now the decision was made and he would stick to it. The Gundam project was already in trouble and he was not going to add to the mess. He liked the idea of the rebellion less with each passing day. It smacked of corruption and deception almost as much as the Alliance did and he had heard some disquieting rumors about Dekim Barton and the reasons behind his backing of the project. Were they never to learn their lesson? He and those five whose meddling in the past had led to mobile suit warfare never meddled on a minor scale. They always acted with the best of intentions but time and again it seemed to go wrong and people died. He did not doubt they had good intentions but he had to doubt the reasons of select persons disposed toward lurking in deep shadow. There were disturbing hints of ulterior motives and shadowy dealings holding as much corruption as the Alliance was renowned for. Only after their personal commitment had passed the point of no return did they usually discover they had been played and this instance was no different from the past. For certified geniuses they were disgustingly naive. The price was not just in the deaths that surrounded them. Look at the young pilots and you saw lives torn asunder, ruined and cobbled willy nilly together. The Sweeper brat he had watched from afar, once a street rat and now wasting his new life on fighting a war not his own. That poor child, the near automaton J had produced. God, he needed to kick J’s ass over what he had done to that boy. Who was this one? Zechs Merquise? What was his story ? And there would be a story there he was sure. There once had to have been another name attached to this face and he would like to find out the path walked that led to the cockpit of an archaic prototype. He, the designer and creator of the suit had decided the machine was more monster that anything. He had thought it would never be flown in anything other than simulations and low level training flights. Tallgeese killed her pilots. Every single pilot who had climbed aboard her and taken her beyond level two training simulations had died. This one survived and wielded the weapon in battle as though it had been crafted just for him. His eyes flicked to the x-rays the doc was still studying and he stared at the knotted ribs. Old breaks. Not so old really, barely a few months but the evidence was there. Unmistakable. He had seen such x-rays before but those x-rays had shown new breaks, jagged bone sliced into soft lung tissue and puncturing the hearts of the pilots. Five men, brilliant young men, had died in the past trying to master that suit. He had known them all. Every one of them, young men who were the best of the best and not one of them had lived beyond a few minutes after opening up the suit’s potential beyond a stroll in the park. This one had done it. Not without taking injury but Merquise had succeeded where all others had failed and perhaps it was selfish of him but he wanted the chance to know the man who tamed Tallgeese. “You want him transferred into the brig?” His eyes flicked to the doctor safely hidden by the dark shades he wore. Brig? Something was going on in Oz and this pilot might hold the key to finding out what it was. If they could use it and exploit it there was the chance they might shorten the conflict and actually gain peace. “No.” He might cooperate if he was not treated as a prisoner. He might in turn be curious about the man who designed his suit. Howard was willing to take a risk. “Have him settled in a cabin and have the door watched but not locked. I’ll be in to check on how he’s doing later. If he wakes before I’m ready to see him, give instruction he’s not to be interfered with but I am to be called. No one is to give him the impression he is a prisoner.” The Doctor considered him for a long moment, turning his gaze finally to the unconscious pilot. “What the fuck are you up to, Old Man?” He smirked under the moustache and walked out of the medical bay offering no explanation. Time would tell. Time would tell if he was right to have respect for the young pilot. * *** He sighed softly. His glasses rested on the desk and he rubbed at his aching eyes. It seemed so long ago. Everything had seemed initially to go well. He was sure he was earning the young man’s trust and he had been aware there were things Zechs was not ready to tell him. That had been okay. They all needed time and he was willing to give it but before he could get to really know him something had happened. Something had changed the young man he had liked and respected into the seemingly cold and unemotional … No, that was wrong. Unemotional? Very wrong indeed. There had been a wealth of emotion in those blue eyes as he had made that fateful speech to the people of the Earth Sphere. Why had he not seen it when the boy had made the speech? Why had he heard only the words, not the sound of that voice and the emotion underlying every horrible word? Those eyes … Such intensity and he had missed it, caught up in the horror of finding him at the helm of the White Fang. Reviewing tapes of that speech at a later time he had to admit there was nothing in those eyes that marked this man as being insane. What he had witnessed in playback after playback was not the insane ramblings of a despot. There was nothing demonic about the man so casually condemning a planet to death. His eyes had not hidden his emotions and teamed with the words it was not surprising everyone took him at face value and screamed of insanity. War was insanity. It sent men into screaming oblivion. Death, destruction, maiming of those around you … too much of that would indeed give rise to insanity but in this case … no. Those blue eyes had hidden nothing of his determination but when he looked beyond the surface and took time to really look at that all too handsome face he wondered he could have been so blind. What he had found beneath the seeming ice of impassivity was heartbreaking. There was no lack of emotion there but instead too much. It had been overwhelming. So much emotion and none of it had been unreasoning anger or insanity. There had been hurt. He could not deny there had been a great deal of hurt revealed and there had certainly been a raging torrent of anger. A forest fire of rage had been lurking in those blue depths and no small amount of determination. Trained psychologists on his staff had assessed the countenance of the man and determined his emotional state. Layered beneath a churning mass of emotion they had found what they interpreted to be resignation. It was the expression of a man who knew what must be done. The expression of one who had the strength and courage to stand tall and not shrink from what was seen as duty. It was the expression of a man who knew the result of failure was something that could not be tolerated. Those blue eyes and that marble like face had expressed the will not to fail. //Nor did he. I saw that same look on Kushrenada’s face in the tapes of the last few hours of the war. They were the perfect foil for each other and they played their parts well. They changed the face of the world and now we have peace. The chance at lasting peace brought at the cost of lives and innocence but it has been paid for. Now we need to ensure the cost was not too high and not in vain and I believe I still have a apart to play in that.// His eyes ran over the faces on the table one more time. He knew where most of them were but they had a habit of moving quickly and sometimes they surprised even him. Zechs on Mars was a surprise but now that he knew he would take a hand in the matter. It would be a cold and lonely world and the boy needed to know he had more choices than a barren rock to find a place to lay his head. He would offer the boy a home. //I’m going to make certain I come face to face with you again, Merquise, and when I do I’m going to kick your sorry ass for worrying me. I’ll explain to you in words a one-year-old could understand how unhappy with you I was for taking off as you did and not returning to explain to me what the hell you thought you were doing. I’ll make certain the bastard understands the hell he’s put me through these last few years believing him dead.// His young people. Quite a rogue’s gallery, in particular the chestnut-haired youth who held so much potential and the blond who showed the world what it was to face the hopelessness of war. His young people. His young men. Neither had any idea how he looked on them as his nor did he understand why he considered them to be his responsibility. It was of no concern that neither they nor he understood. It just was. //I will shake the stuffing out of the bastard and tell him exactly what I think of him and make certain he knows he has a place within the Sweeper ranks.// t.b.c.
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