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"Regained "Written By: Artemis Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and its characters are
copyright to Sunrise, Bandai, Sotsu Agency, and associated parties.
I make no money with this fic. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: yaoi lemon, masturbation, angst, violence,
language Pairings: 6x2, 3x4, mention of 13+11, R+1 Summary: Sequel to Interfacing: Lost. GAIA, the
new alliance, fights its first battle in Antarctica; Duo and Zechs
begin to rebuild their relationship "Regained" Chapter 29
"Appreciated," Heero replied after a pause. //Even I can't run on empty forever...// Nodding curtly, Zechs turned and started walking toward the offices at the end of the hangar. Heero, lengthening his stride to match, joined him alongside. Neither spoke; for some reason, there was no need to, not yet. Once they arrived at his office, Zechs called the dining hall to request two lunches and coffee to be brought to them, then sat down behind his desk, waving Heero to a seat. //I've got to rearrange this office. The desk separates me from everyone,// he thought, then turned his attention to the young pilot sitting opposite him. "Thank you for helping with the battle. We'd still be out there, I think, otherwise." Heero was perched on the chair with one leg folded up in front of him, hugging his knee, and looking altogether too young to be the seasoned warrior he was. It reminded him sharply of Duo's penchant for folding his legs up before him as if to diminish even more in size. But as soon as he spoke with his deep baritone voice, the spell of youth was shattered. "Yes, and those battleships would have been a problem. But I need to talk to you about your plans now. Romefeller now knows there's a base here in opposition to it, and that several Gundams have joined forces with these rebels. We defeated this fleet, but we might not the next one. I need to know what you're going to do about all that." Zechs nodded, understanding the concern. "Believe me, Heero, I've thought about all that, otherwise I never would have invited all the Gundams to become involved." He took a deep breath and looked across his desk at the other pilot, his expression very serious. "I've talked to Quatre and Duo about this, and they've accepted a solution that has arisen. I'm telling you this now, Heero, only because I sense that you are going to join us." The boy straightened. There was more here than he'd expected. "You *sense* that I'm going to join you? You'd better be sure, Zechs." The ex-OZ colonel leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "Maybe you don't feel anything... that's fine. I only know that I've had some kind of connection with you since I first threw that Leo at you in the upper atmosphere. And when I knelt on the plain of Siberia, holding your Gundam's broken control stick in my hand, I knew you were alive." "What?" Heero asked in surprise, his voice hushed. Zechs shrugged. "I don't pretend to understand it. But I knew you were alive, and that's why I took your Gundam. In a sense, it was never in OZ or Romefeller's possession and they don't now have any of the data on it that we'd collected. I did intend to continue our duel once I found you and gave it back to you, but I have no more will to oppose you any longer." Heero's dark eyebrows pulled together in a scowl. "Because of Duo." The other leaned forward suddenly. "Because having someone in my life who cares for me makes a difference in my purpose for fighting. Fighting you would have no real meaning in this war. It was purely a personal duel for superiority. I no longer feel a need to establish myself as superior to you or any other pilot. There are more important things to fight for now." The younger pilot relaxed, though he still looked wary. "I was concerned that having a relationship with Duo would affect your fighting style, that it would make you vulnerable...." "And?" Zechs asked, challenging. Heero shrugged. "I didn't see any change. Duo was getting knocked about pretty well, but in general you weren't hovering over him. You both knew it could get rough, and you didn't hold back." He gave Zechs a curt nod. "That means the relationship is a good thing. And you're going to need as many good things as you can manage in this alliance if you have any hope of defeating Romefeller. Which brings me back to my original question..." "Ah, yes." Zechs sat back again, relaxing. "Well, I'm not expecting Romefeller to send another fleet after us. In fact, I don't expect Romefeller to find out about us at all." "What?" Heero unfolded, standing up to lean on the desk, challenging the other. "What do you mean, Zechs? What's going on here?" Zechs remained calm. "I have a contact within Romefeller, my great-uncle, Marquis Weyridge. He hates the new policies as much as I do, and though he has little personal power and influence at the moment, he believes that change must come from within, which is why he remains a member of the Foundation so far. Allow me to call him to verify what I've just told you." There was a glint in Heero's eyes. //The others trust him, although we've been duped by OZ before... though I can't believe a whole fleet would be sacrificed to gain our trust. Still... anything is possible. They've used us before...// "If it makes you feel better," Zechs added, a glint in his own ice-blue eyes, "it seems that the Marquis is something of a fan of my sister. He attended an event with Relena recently during which she tried to shoot Lady Une. He admires her, and will be a great assist to her if the Sank Kingdom needs to have any dealings with Romefeller." "Huh? He's been with Relena?" This seemed to put a whole new picture on things. Heero knew only too well that Relena was solidly on the side of peace and Heero Yuy, if not all the Gundam pilots. Heero eased off, returning to settle back into the chair. "Yes. May I call him right now?" Zechs relaxed again a little. //I don't know if the old man has been able to find out anything... or can... but I have to take this risk...// Just then there was a sharp rap on the door. Letting Heero think about it, Zechs went to respond. It was their lunch - soup, sandwiches, and a carafe of coffee. He set it all out with the provided plates. "I think we need a little repast first," he murmured, pouring a mug of coffee and handing it over to Heero, who took it and sipped on it immediately. "I need this worst of all," Heero admitted. "It's not bad. Thanks." Then he uncurled and came over to the credenza. He selected a couple sandwiches, by-passed the soup, then returned to his chair which he moved closer to the desk, setting his coffee mug on the edge. He glanced over to see if Zechs minded, but the older pilot didn't comment, returning to the desk with a tray containing a sandwich, bowl of soup, and another mug of coffee. Zechs sighed as he sat down. "I was too keyed up to eat this morning. Didn't even think about breakfast." He ate a spoonful of the hot, savory soup and took a bite of sandwich. "This is better." They ate in silence for a few minutes, though Heero often glanced over, studying Zechs Merquise out of the corner of his eye. //He's a prince... but also a soldier and orphan. Huh. Tall and good-looking... I guess it's no wonder Duo fell for him like a ton of bricks. He seems to be a man of honor... but that captain in the control tower said Zechs had been Treize Khushrenada's friend. This is sure complicated...// When they were finished though still sipping on yet another cup of coffee, Zechs asked casually, "Well, shall I make that call?" Heero nodded wordlessly. Upon activating his computer, Zechs first noted that he had a couple of e-mail messages waiting. One was from the Marquis. "Hmmm, he's just written me... let's see what he says..." He printed out the message and handed it over to Heero, unread. The boy raised an eyebrow, wondering at the trust, then read the note aloud: My dear Milliardo, Uncle Cosmos "Allow me to translate," Zechs murmured, chuckling. "High center would be the intelligence center... T is Treize, D must be Duke Dermail, who currently heads the Foundation... 'md' stands for mobile doll." "This is dated two hours ago," Heero noted. "If there were news of the battle, it should have spread by then. But what's with the activity?" "I don't know. Let me call and find out. This is a secure line; it can't be traced." While he spoke, Zechs glanced over the second missive, which was from Treize. As soon as he opened it, the message printed itself out and then vanished. //Enzyme code,// Zechs noted. That meant it would erase all trace of itself back to the source. He took the second printout and laid it aside. "Hmmm, an enzyme?" Heero asked, referring to the secure line. //Those are nearly impossible to break into as they dissolve when accessed. Damn.// "Oh, just a customized piece of security," Zechs replied, neither denying or confirming. Already he was calling the Marquis. "Here we are..." Heero came to watch just out of view of the monitor. The image of an old man came on the screen, a man with balding steel gray hair and beard and aristocratic dress. "Milliardo," the man murmured, smiling. "Two calls in as many days, how nice. I take it you got my message?" "Yes, Uncle, thank you," Zechs replied easily. "I must keep this short. Any unusual news floating around that I should know about?" "News?" The old man looked genuinely surprised. "There was the announcement about the mobile doll demonstration this morning. That's it." Zechs nodded, relief flooding through him. //Treize came through!// "You mentioned activity at the high center." Weyridge frowned. "Yes... oh, wait, there was some news... now, what was it?" Heero tensed, edging closer though careful to keep out of view. //This is it...// "News, Uncle? From OZ perhaps?" Zechs prompted gently. "Oh, OZ, yes, that was it. Hmmm, the Arctic Circle? Or maybe Antarctica..." Weyridge frowned and seemed to be shuffling papers around on his desk. Abruptly he brought a piece of paper into view. "Here it is. A terrible tragedy, though you might know it doesn't bring the Foundation much grief, I'm sorry to say. Heartless bastards..." "Uncle," Zechs whispered gently. "What's the tragedy?" The man was scanning the paper. "Hmmmm, sunspots... this says that unusual sunspot activity has caused unseasonably harsh weather patterns at the poles. There was an OZ fleet at one of them... Inspector Acht? I don't know who that is, but he was directing them. Strange..." "Uncle..." "Yes, Milliardo, I'm getting to it..." Marquis Weyridge adjusted his glasses, reading further. "Yes, here it is. The whole fleet was caught in a huge ice storm. All carriers and mobile suits perished as well as two battleships. Interesting, the entire contingent was made of ex-Alliance personnel who were on maneuvers under the banner of OZ in order to make themselves more presentable, I guess, to Romefeller. Poor fools..." Playing the game, Zechs looked startled. "The whole fleet perished in an ice storm?" "Yeah... hunting Gundams, I surmise. The report mentions a possible Gundam sighting, but the storm likely was creating havoc with sensors, and light refracting off ice crystals can make it look like there are strange mirror images. I'm sure someone's overactive imagination was the cause for that one." Then the old man looked narrowly at his grand-nephew. "Milliardo, does this mean anything to you? Is that what you wanted to know?" "Certainly," Zechs replied, startling Heero. "It's one less fleet I'll have to face, isn't it?" Heero relaxed and returned to his seat. Chuckling, Marquis Weyridge agreed. "Well, I'm sure it will be all over the news. I don't know how this helps, young Peacecraft, but I don't mind keeping an old eye out for you here." "I must be going, Uncle," Zechs said kindly. "Thank you for the information. Look out for my sister for me, if you get a chance." He'd said that merely to see if Heero reacted. Weyridge laughed. "She can run circles around me anyday! Rather I might be needing her to look out for an old fool like me! She's a prize, that one." "Thank you. Good day, Uncle." "Good day, Milliardo." The screen went dark. Heero was facing away, his mind assimilating everything he'd just heard at top speed. //It's true - that Marquis knows Relena! But the fleet...// He turned to Zechs abruptly. "How? The fleet disappearing in an ice storm? How did..." Then his expression and voice hardened as he put it all together. "You've got some other inside help at Romefeller!" Zechs lifted his chin, feeling the danger crackle between them, activating the strange connection they shared. There was utterly nothing erotic about it, and it was barely metaphysical. The two pilots stared at one another, one challenging, one daring. Dark Prussian blue eyes blazed as every alarm in Heero's body went off, singing the bright, clean danger that was as much his lifeblood as his fellow warrior. And pale, ice-blue eyes blazed the dare right back at him as if to demand that he speak it, speak the nameless thing that had not yet been spoken between them. It was what Zechs could not have dared the God of Death, being way too close to that "deity's" human persona. But now, against the Perfect Soldier, it might be spoken. //I dare you, Heero Yuy... I dare you to call me a traitor, a betrayer... come and tell me that you believe I am so I may destroy you...// All of a sudden, Heero was nodding, then gave a wry snort. "Well, I can draw two conclusions here. Either you're brilliant and are pulling one hell of an end-around the entire Romefeller Foundation, intending to pull them down from within... or you're a cold, merciless bastard whom I will be proud to kill in your bed one day, bathing your lover in your blood. I'll slit your throat where you lie..." "You sound like a pirate now," Zechs murmured wryly, then smiled rather wickedly. "And I *am* brilliant, though in fact I didn't cook up this plan." Heero emitted a sound like a growl, and the computer beeped insistently again. "May I get that?" Zechs asked coolly. //Damn, he's good... and people call me a cool customer...// Heero almost chuckled at that. Someone the tension had eroded away. //We're a lot alike, I suppose.// "Sure, why not?" he retorted dryly. To Zechs's wonder, it was not Treize Khushrenada, though he'd been half-expecting it to be. Actually... it was a relief. "Who are you?" Zechs asked of the young OZ soldier on his screen. He gestured for Heero to come and watch, and Heero moved to take up his post again, just out of view. The young man looked surprised, then elated. "Colonel Zechs, it *is* you..." "If you're going to call me that," Zechs retorted, "this conversation is over." "Wait!" The officer quickly gathered his composure. "I apologize, sir. I am contacting you on behalf of the Rose Knight. I was told you would know who that was." //It's one of Treize's special minions!// Zechs realized with a shock. //Did Treize know we might be overheard? Is that why the secret name?// He remembered the coded missive at which he hadn't yet had a chance to look. "I might. Did you have a message for me?" Lieutenant Lance, his heart pounding, glanced beyond the screen at his superior. When he received a curt nod, he looked back at the renegade Colonel. "Yes, sir. A message and a video clip. The Rose Knight wishes you to know that his assignment has been fulfilled. Here is the evidence..." Lance started up the video clip. As Zechs and Heero watched in astonishment, they saw what appeared to be Aries mobile suits being hurled against each other and exploding or crashing as a result of a violent ice storm. Sometimes even massive chunks of ice hurtled through the air and impaled themselves in the mobile suits. The clip lasted about three minutes before it shut off. "Everything has been altered according to your needs, sir," Lance murmured when it was over. Then the corner of his mouth went up in a smirk. "There's been a call for better weather forecasting as a result. Not that it would matter if there was." "I see," Zechs replied, tremendously relieved, though he remained rigidly erect before this young officer and the young pilot beside him. "Tell the Rose Knight that the White King is grateful for his assistance." He narrowed his eyes at the man. "What is your code name, soldier?" "The Dog Squire, sir," the young man replied, wide-eyed, getting another nod from his superior. His Excellency had instructed him that others were likely now to be present in the Lightning Count's office, so discretion was wise. Lance had met the famous and fabulous Lightning Count only once, and it was a memorable experience. Even with the mask, the man's presence was awesome. Zechs could read the man's face all too clearly. //A misty-eyed young apprentice of the dashing Treize Khushrenada... hopefully he doesn't have a taste for blood like Alex or Mueller... How many have you gathered around yourself, Treize? Are they truly ours to command? Will you protect them from the wrath of the likes of Dermail which you are surely to draw upon yourself for helping me?// "Very well, Squire, this is good work. Tell him things are 'proceeding' here. He will know what that means." "Yes, sir," Lance replied quickly. "I'll tell him. Anything else, sir?" //I need to throw a bone in here to appease Heero a little,// Zechs considered, feeling the tension in the boy even from the distance of five feet. "Yes. Tell them those who fight for peace, true peace, will reap the benefits of his atonement." Though Heero started at that particular word choice in surprise, and Lance did as well, Zechs hurried on. "Do you wish for peace in the Earthsphere, Dog Squire?" "W...what?" Lance was stunned that the Lightning Count should speak of atonement. "Yes, yes, sir! With all my heart." He wanted to add that he wanted to help bring His Excellency's ideals to reality, but he'd been firmly instructed to avoid such talk. It was bad enough that he'd nearly said "Your Majesty" to the White King instead of the political "sir". "Good man," Zechs murmured. "These are terrible times and we must do terrible things, Squire. Enemies can become allies, and allies become our enemies. Without a true goal, we are lost, like I was." "Sir? I beg your pardon?" Lance looked at the image, bewildered. //He's doing this for the benefit of this young officer,// Heero noted, impressed. //Not mine. Well, maybe a little. But Zechs is trying to make a connection with him. I'd say it's working. Damn, but he's good... and after I get into his computer network and verify all this for myself, I can join them wholeheartedly.// He was surprised to actually feel a sense of hope within himself. It had been a long time. //But what's this talk of atonement? Atonement for OZ fighting the Gundams? Atonement for the Alliance's suppression of the colonies?// "My Rose Knight will explain it, Squire," Zechs murmured. "Be careful in your endeavors. You are in far more danger than we are now." Lance straightened proudly. "Yes, sir, we will take care. We have, as the Rose Knight puts it, a mighty wall to reduce to rubble so that a new one may be built." Zechs smiled tightly. Treize loved metaphors as much as he did. "Exactly. Good day." "Good day, sir."
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