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"Planet of the Vamps "Written By: Asymphototropic
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam wing. Author: Asymphototropic (attracted toward the
light, but never quite arrives there) Email: asymphototropic@aol.com Rating: NC 17 Warnings: AU, yaoi, bondage, little smidgens of
het Summary: Stranded on a strange planet, Duo Maxwell studies Biology 101 Pairings: Read and see! Written for GW Safehouse's Vampire month
"Planet of the Vamps " Part 6. "You're not serious. You can't do this." "On the contrary. I am, I can and I will. Step aside." Une stood scowling as her sworn life mate, Treize, buckled his weapons belt conspicuously about his hips. It bore ancient implements and modern contrivances, blades and power weapons, alike equally deadly. He was clad in formal Lamian attire, as for a high religious observance. Everything was midnight black except for a pure white shirt with a splash of fresh blood spilled upon its front. Zechs was similarly attired. Noin stood clinging to his arm, whispering urgently into his ear. "Your clearer head must prevail. Do not let him sway you beyond your own reasoning mind. You owe it to him and to me, both." "I'll do my best, dearest love. But I cannot say that I disagree with Treize in this matter." "You're going out in broad daylight?" Une demanded icily. "I am going after Duo Maxwell. Now. If the sun chooses to shine upon my journey, it has my pardon," Treize gestured grandly. "Then I shall accompany you," Une vowed. "It is my right, as you know. Do not attempt useless dissuasion." "Never in a Lunar millennium, beloved lady," Treize replied somberly. xXxXx "Maxwell? You're Maxwell?" A uniformed guard waited outside the door to the small residential compartment. "Yeah. What's the problem?" Duo held his freshly washed, soggy braid away from his T shirt. "There's been an incident. Or, I should say, there's an ongoing confrontation. The Ambassadors' Office and the Ministry representative urgently request your attendance at once." Maxwell eyed the small crowd in the hallway. Soldiers, the lot of them, armed to the teeth and nervous as original sin. "Me?" "Son, there's a damned great bunch of vampires howling for you at the front door of the Visitors' Center. You need to get your butt in gear and get down there now. Understand?" "Yeah, yeah, whatever," Duo pulled his door shut behind him. "Not really vampires..." he muttered as the small troop closed formation around him. The Chief Minister for Foreign Affairs met him at the base of the main stairwell. "Are you Mr. Maxwell?" "That's me. What the hell is going on?" "Listen, there is no time for a thorough briefing. And I scarcely comprehend the situation myself. All I know is there are some high born Lamians at the front door, demanding to, ahem, talk with you. Royalty, the lot of them. They are backed by a squadron of Lamian military police. The whole situation looks dangerous and volatile. I'm warning you now. I don't know what you've been up to. Its my duty to defend your rights to the best of my ability, and I will. But if you've been pursuing anything illegal, I won't hesitate to hand you over to the authorities, rather than risk an incident here that could have interstellar repercussions." "Well, thanks a ton. Its so reassuring to hear that," Maxwell rolled his eyes. "Look, I haven't been up to anything nefarious. Leastwise, nothing that I know is illegal." "I am delighted to hear it.You are entitled to fair representation. I should probably contact the appropriate diplomatic corps. From what planet do you hail?" "Traeskavelon." "What?" "Traeskavelon." "I heard you the first time. Is this some sort of demented joke?" The wizened little silver haired fellow stared into the boy's eyes. The boy's weirdly glowing, purple eyes. "How do you do that glowing thing? You're not joking, are you?" "Traeskavelon. Mythical. Legendary hidden planet on the brink of the great galactic void. Home to sinister pirates by the ship load. And feral, purple eyed demon folk, supposedly descendants of migrant Andromedans. That's my home port, for real. Honest to gods, mister, I'm from Traeskavelon, just like I said. Here, check out my passport," Duo dragged forth the bedraggled electronic card from his back trousers pocket. The minister studied the proffered information. "This says you are only 17 years old." He seemed rather scandalized at that. "Sorry. That's just a best guess. I'm an orphan. Feral stock, you know? No birth records." "I see," the old man shook his head, grimly. "Well, we don't have a government representative of Traeskavelon here on Lamia. To my knowledge, there isn't a Traeskavelian ambassador, or other official for that matter, anywhere in the entire quadrant." "Why am I not surprised?" "The nearest thing, I imagine, would be the Cassiopeian Embassy. Do you want me to call their representative for you?" "Gods, no! Sorry, mister, no offense intended. But on Traeskavelon, the words 'Cassiopeian' and 'pirate' are pretty nearly synonymous." "Well, I'm inclined to agree with you on that one, Mr Maxwell," the old man smiled rather wryly. "So its going to be just the two of us against the vampire hoard." "They're not really vampires, ya know?" "Just as you say, Mr Maxwell. Shall we proceed?" "Yo ho." As they arrived in the main foyer of the Visitors' Center, it did not comfort Duo that the surrounding soldiers tensed their hands upon their power rifles. The spry little Minister of Foreign Affairs walked firmly forward, stopped calmly in front of the Lamians, bowed and introduced himself with considerable dramatic flare. Treize and Zechs were there, looking hugely regal, slightly gory, and deadly in earnest. Behind them were Une and Noin, still in the costumes from their religious ceremonies. Only Sally Po wore her usual work attire. But over it she had fastened her black and scarlet cape for outdoors wear. They all looked like something out of an antique horror film. Duo swallowed down the lump in his throat. Its return transit was nearly instantaneous. Behind his Lamian acquaintances stood an entire squad of military police, looking very fierce indeed. They had been called out to quell the riots in the city attributable to the moon madness. But catching sight of this deputation of royalty heading toward the supposedly neutral turf of the spaceport and Visitors' Center, their commander had made an executive decision. Whatever was happening, it was bound to be far more entertaining than picking up the random remaining corpses off the street for the medical examiner's office. Forthwith, he took it upon himself to accompany the Lamian delegation. "It would seem that there is some call for mediation here," the Foreign Minister suggested affably. "On the contrary. This is entirely a private concern, inappropriate for the ears of strangers." Treize folded his impressively muscled arms over his bloody shirt front. He did not deign to notice the large crowd of off-worlders whispering excitedly all along the perimeters of the scene. "I require the attendance of Duo Maxwell, for the purpose of discussing clan matters. It is not a subject open to negotiation." "Mr Maxwell is a citizen of the planet Traeskavelon, legally visiting Lamia. As such, he is entitled to the protection of the Lamian government, from anyone threatening him, regardless of their societal standing." "Duo is a member of The High Clan of Lamia. As such, any hypothetical protection he might require would be provided by myself, and no one else. However, it is my perception that Duo is quite capable of fighting his own battles." Not withstanding this statement, Treize' stony cold expression remained frozen. He did not even glance at Maxwell. "A member of The High Clan of Lamia?" the Foreign Minister cast a stunned look, first at the regal Lamians, and then at the slight, T shirt-and-jeans clad youngster, damp and somewhat disheveled at his side. His look lingered pensively upon the boy's earring, which chose that minute to glitter rather gaudily in the bright foyer lighting. Duo fingered the jewelry sheepishly. He had discovered in the shower that, once placed, it was meant to stay put. Nothing short of surgery seemed likely to budge the damned ornament. He had noted in passing, every single one of the Lamians wore an earring. Some simple, others decorated with gemstones. But all present. "This would appear to be something of a domestic matter then, and outside my proper purview?" the diplomat raised his eyebrows at the boy, as if indicating that now would be the time to jump in with a fiery, vehement denial, if Duo ever intended to offer one. Maxwell sighed. He glanced around at the crowd of spectators, all relishing the lurid incident as if it were a purposely convened entertainment for the tourists. The whole thing was damned embarrassing. How the hell had he ever gotten into such a gods-awful tangle, anyway? Moon-madness, he reminded himself. Blood and brandy. And some damned hot hip action, if he recalled correctly. His face flushed red hot. "Erm. Ah. I dun know about Treize. But personally I'm feeling pretty dicey. I think I may have some kind of fever. It would be awful if I've come down with something contagious. And spread it around. Plague or whatever." Almost against his will, it seemed, Treize looked him in the eyes. Duo gulped. "I'd, er, ah, appreciate it, if Dr Po would have a look at me. Just to make sure it isn't something dreadful. Like the creeping feral Traesky pestilence or some such cataclysm." "Headache and palpitations," Treize murmured, touching his elegantly high forehead gingerly with his fingertips. Sally Po smiled slightly. "Certainly. I should be delighted to offer my diagnostic services. If Treize and Duo would like to accompany me to the infirmary?" The Foreign Minister tried hard to refrain from gusting a loud sigh of relief. "Might I recommend one Visitors' Center guard, and one of the Lamian MPs to act as escort?" "That will be acceptable," Treize declared. Zechs shot him a look that said, "I'm not leaving here until you return." Treize nodded acknowledgment, then turned to follow Po and Maxwell. The two opposing soldiers, keeping a wary distance between themselves, brought up the rear. The muttering crowd parted spontaneously to allow them past. The guards had remained in the hallway, suspiciously glaring at each other. Sally took Treize and Duo into her examination room. "Take off your clothes." "What?" "Strip to your skivvies, Treize. I'm going to perform a physical exam." "I'm not wearing any skivvies." "Oh well, strip to your skin then. Here's a charming paper gown for you to drape over yourself." Po rounded instantly to confront a sniggering Maxwell. "That goes for you too," she insisted, handing the boy a disposable garment. "If you don't, I'm going to place both of you in indefinite quarantine for Traeskavelian Feral Plague." "There's no such thing," Duo retorted, chuckling. "Then I shall write you up for the medical journals as an index case." "Aw. Hell." Duo commenced removing his clothes. "Sit on the examining table," Sally told Treize peremptorily. "Duo, sit next to him. There's plenty of room for the pair of you." Duo's eyes flashed as he clambered onto the gurney. Sitting next to him, Treize hissed at the boy. Duo nonchalantly kicked his own dangling feet, and grinned back tauntingly at the Lamian. Treize growled, baring his fangs. "Enough!" Sally attached her vital signs monitor to the man's chest, and noted the recordings into her electronic pad. "You have a hangover," she stated succinctly. And then added in serious tones, "with lingering signs of moon madness. Your symptoms must have been extreme last night." "I survived," Treize snapped. "Much to our relief," Po replied simply. The Lamian man nodded his regal head politely in acknowledgment of Sally's courtesy. The doctor turned her medical attention to Duo next. "You do have a fever." "Naw, it was just a good excuse to get out of that damned nosey crowd." "See for yourself," Sally showed him his recorded vital signs. The boy looked startled. The physician fingered the jewelry in his ear. Duo shuddered away from the contact. "Ow." "This would appear to be the chief focus of inflammation," Po told him. "I'll administer an antibiotic and an anti-inflammatory which will help with your temperature and pain. I assume the piercing represents a Lamian bite wound?" "Mine," Treize hissed. "Yes, yes," Sally soothed his rufflement, then turned again toward Duo. "Lamian bites tend to be less bacterially contaminated than those from other strains of Homo sapiens. Likely the fever is your body's reaction to foreign salivary proteins. I've read about such cases in the textbooks, of course. But never before had a chance to observe one. Consummation of a clan mating between Lamians and off-worlders is a rare occurrence." Duo stared down at his clenched hands, crumpling the paper gown over his lap. The doctor's voice was very gentle. "If you wish, I can remove the earring surgically, with very little scarring." Treize leaped off the table with a violent growl. Po confronted him. "Civility, if you please. You may dress. Then take a seat quietly in that chair." Astonished, Duo watched Treize back down from Sally Po. When she glowered in that manner, she really was an awesome sight. "If you choose to keep the earring, you must be cautious," the physician returned to examining the boy, displaying great curiosity as she poked and prodded his anatomy here and there. "The gemstones alone are quite valuable enough to mark you for assault by jewel thieves. And the piece's value as a museum quality antique really skyrockets the object's salability. If an expert recognizes it as genuine," she shook her head dubiously. "Treize, how was Duo last night?" The towering Lamian suddenly chuckled lasciviously. "Delicious." Sally snorted. "So I would imagine. I meant, did he show any signs of altered mental status? Was he quite in his right mind?" "Certainly not," Treize retorted angrily. "He was utterly struck by the Lunar Goddesses' favor. Do you imagine Zechs and I would have coupled with him, otherwise? The Gods' sakes, he was trying to jump out the eaves window and fly when we first found him." "Yes, dear, of course. I understand," Sally patted the man's muscular arm. "How very peculiar. An off-worlder stricken with moon madness. Now that is something I've not even read about. But then, perhaps Duo is the first Traeskavelian ever to visit Lamia. And also, the full alignment of the three moons is a rare event. The conjunction of the two unusual occurrences," and she shook her head with scientific enthusiasm for the statistical analysis. "Look, if it will make things better, I can give you back the earring, with no hard feelings, huh?" Duo offered. With a snarl, Treize leaped to his feet and began violently pacing the room. He looked like someone had just slapped him in the face. "Treize. Calm down. He doesn't understand your point of view at all. You must perceive that." "Well, now, speaking about points of view," Duo's own grievance came freshly to mind. "Where the hell do you all get off, lying to me?" Treize grabbed Duo up off the gurney and shook him. The doctor intervened physically. "Stop that. Put him down. This isn't helping. The guards will be in here if you don't quiet yourself at once." The Lamian suddenly dropped the boy. Fortunately Sally caught Duo's shoulders before he tumbled backward to the floor. She helped him to a chair and handed him his trousers. After a seething pause, Sally spoke. "Duo, why are you so angry with me? What have I done to offend you?" "My ship. I can't get parts for it. I'm stuck here on Lamia. You know I'm spending every credit of my wages on repairs, and every spare moment I can. Why am I having so much trouble making things work?" the boy sighed his frustration, the gusting breath teasing his amber bangs around his earnest face. "I got no friends, no family. Just my ship. Its me, ya know? Its who I am." "Yes, I understand. At least I try to, though I admit, valuing a mechanical device above humanity is quite a foreign concept to me. But even so, my interference in your affairs has not been so terrible, at least to my view. When I sent you over to Lucrezia's to work, I merely warned her you were still recuperating from your injuries. Told her you needed plenty of nourishment and rest. That was my duty to my patient, explaining the matter to your employer." "Well, yeah, okay," Duo conceded. "But you can't tell me that's everything," he scolded. He had never revealed to the others his ability to read minds. And he had no intention of explaining it now. "Well, Noin is quite the maternal soul. She took my instructions very much to heart. You know, feeding you, watching over your work hours and such. But then, of course Une confronted her about treating you like a child, feeling that it would offend your male pride. So of course, Noin had to explain to Une, the why and the wherefore of your situation. And as you know, Une is an enforcer. There you were, a youngster with a physical deficit, and no clan weapons-mate to defend you. So, of course Une felt she had to watch your back. All the merchants and technicians you went to for parts contacted Une to give approval of their business dealings with you. That was just standard procedure, dealing in credit matters with an off-worlder, they would want a reference. And Une didn't actually prevent them from supplying your parts. She just told them there was no pressing need to hurry, since you were still convalescing anyway. So whenever they had to order things for you that required off-planet shipping, which was pretty often, since your vessel is of foreign assemblage. They didn't spend extra on express shipping. That sort of thing slows up your work pretty thoroughly, see?" "Yeah. I see," Duo nodded bitterly. "You three haven't been hindering my work. Just haven't been helping move it along any. Got it." "Well, now that one matter is clarified," Treize began in icy tones. "I have a suggestion. Why don't you take up Dr Po on her offer? She can remove the earring for you right now. And you can sell it for cash. I'll even refer you to an off-world dealer in Lamian antiquities who will pay you a lavish amount for the piece. I assure you, you've never seen that much money, your entire little life. Once you are rich, you needn't work for Noin any longer. And, since you can deal strictly in cash, no one will approach Une over your purchases. You can have all your parts shipped to you express, and be out of here in haste. Never to tread the wretched soil of planet Lamia again." "You!" Duo exploded, confronting Treize. "Why would you say such a thing? You must have formed one hell of an opinion of me, to have said that to my face. Sure, I'm thinking of letting Sally cut up my ear. Seems to me wearing the thing is a damned dangerous enterprise. And an hellatious lot of trouble to boot. All that talk about interstellar repercussions. Ambassadors and suchlike truck. But more than that, wearing this thing would be like sailing under false colors. Claiming to be someone I'm not. That would be a lie. And I don't lie. Hell, believe you me, I can't lie, even if I wanted to do it. Which I don't. But if I had Sally cut off the earring. Of course I'd straight away return it to you." "At which point, I would fling it into the gutter," Treize informed him acidly. "So why not sell it?" "Because selling it would be wrong. Its a part of your family, an heirloom you said. Your clan symbol. And your religion, the three moons and the Goddesses and all that. My treating it so shabbily would be horrible. I would never do such a thing. And its damned insulting, your suggesting that I would." "Do you hear that, Dr Po? You are wrong about his not understanding. How much clearer a statement of morality would you like? From the boy's own mouth, without any urging?" Treize demanded. Sally Po's expression was now deadly serious. "Maxwell. Explain to me what you said before," Treize continued, his face a mask of grim white flesh. "That you have no family. At the very least, a man must have a father and a mother, surely?" "The forest people of Traeskavelon are feral. They live like lonely animals, they hunt, they breed, and they die. I told you, I'm feral Traesky stock. I never knew anyone that claimed me, never met anyone kin to me, my entire life." Treize took on a stricken look, like Duo had just confessed to having an incurable disease of which he was currently dying. "This is intolerable," the Lamian groaned. "The boy doesn't even have a clan of his own to which he may be returned for care. What have I done?" "That's the moon madness talking," Dr Po stated, stepping cautiously toward Treize, her hands outstretched to him. Just then came a firm knock on the door. Zechs' voice sounded from the corridor. Treize shook his head. "There is no help for us. Tell the others I'm sorry. And give them my love." Hissing, he darted suddenly forward, grabbed up the boy and pressed him hard against his chest. Duo stared into eyes hypnotically gleaming vermilion. As Treize pressed a dagger blade to the boy's throat, seeking the pounding carotid pulse. ~ * ~
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