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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"
Chapter 119 Mars Colony Base Dome 2nd March AC 198 Time: 01: 02 [approx Sanc time 22:52] Zechs ** Touch. Pain. Danger! “It's only Giles!” Danger. Source unknown. Panic in words that made no sense at all. Infringement of personal space. Threat to security. Appropriate response … Physical pain demanded retaliation. DO NOT Demanded that the threat be removed and security be assured. THERE IS NO THREAT. Pain. Hesitation in the pain at the flow of assurance. With that denial of the need to secure safety there was something else to disturb the already confusing situation. Deep within the form in response to the rising alarm there was a surging nausea threatening. ** --------------------------- ** Threat. There was threat. Grip tight on his arms, hurting. Hands squeezing unmercifully, giving rise to waves of agony from his shoulder. Pain. Enemy. Retaliate. Enemy! Defend!** -------- “Zechs? Can you hear me?” // I … I should know that voice. It is familiar. It is not Epyon. I … hurt. // “Zechs, is it okay if I touch you? It's Giles, Zechs. Can you hear me?” ---------- ** STAND DOWN. THERE IS NO THREAT. REMEMBER. Remember? Remember … what? “Come on Zechs. Please don't go all spacey on me and remember me as a friend. It's Giles, Zechs. Just old Giles, remember? Remember Raydon?” Raydon? ** --------- // Giles? Do I know … I … yes. I think … I should know someone … ah, I hurt. Why? Why do I hurt? Someone called Giles … Calling me … // -------- ** REMEMBER. Dark hair? Raydon? Golden eyes? REMEMBER Raydon. Dark hair and golden eyes and a voice that was warm and mellow and a touch that was like music … No. Wrong. Something was wrong with that picture. Wrong … Pain … Remove the pain! NO ** ---------- Once, a long time ago there had been someone who had been called Giles and he had the feeling that he had been important. The name at least was familiar and with its recognition came the teasing suggestion that it had been known to him during a time of great trouble. This name, this Giles had been a source of warmth and stability in a world that had been chillingly cold and empty. Yes, he had known one called Giles. ---------- **Body lying in tan hallway, blood smearing the walls, twisted misshapen form, still and growing cold in death …** ------- **Blood pooling under the body, oozing from the wound, manic laughter from the killer who stalked forward, gun at the ready. “Now nothing stands in my way. Got you.” “Giles.” breath of a whisper, knowing he had failed and with his failure the only hope for his children was lost. He did not deserve to live.** ---------- Was he not dead then? He had known him at a time when death had stalked close to them and laughed at the struggles of petty mortals. No. No, that was not right. Death was a black robed woman, ancient and wizened who dealt with the lives of others as casually as she would brush away a fly. Death was that terrible wizened form shrouded in black velvets and brocade with eyes that pierced the heart and promised terrible retribution. ------------ ** Staring at the twisted bleeding form. Two men. One gasping in the last throes of life, the wound in his chest a gaping sentence of death. His killer lay in a twisted misshapen pile of limbs, neck twisted at an odd angle, sightless eyes staring into eternity. “Zechs ... sorry.” “Giles!” ** ----------- “Zechs? I have to touch you to see how badly wounded you are. Now you know that Raydon will have my sorry ass when he finds out you took a bullet meant for me, don't you? Of course you do, so you know that I have to check how bad the damage is.” Zechs? Raydon? Giles? Names. He should recognize those names. They were important to him though no matter how hard he tried he did not understand how or why they should stir something that awoke the pain at a deeper level. Those names, terrible names of great significance struck some chord of recognition deep within him and it annoyed him that the names circled around him, echoing and reverberating in a never ending cycle within his awareness. ----------- ** “I'm still alive?” Pain! Remove the pain! REMEMBER. “Well that's something.” Remove the source! STAND DOWN. ** -------------- “God, I hope to hell you don't lose it now. I have to touch you, Zechs so don't you dare go getting all twitchy on me and cave in the few ribs I have left that are not broken. I'm going to touch you on the right shoulder, okay? It's just old Giles checking to see how badly hurt you are and when I check you over you can check me over, okay? That is what Partners do, right? We are partners and you can trust me. I need to get you to sit up so I can check you over.” Pain. ---------- **REMEMBER YOURSELF. REMEMBER REALITY IS NOT THE DREAMING. REMEMBER AND LIVE** ---------- Darkness fell before a searing burst of pain that swept all confusion before it, wiping aside the haze of unreality and calling to mind the harshness of life. The dream was gone and in its place were tan walls and floor and pain and a touch on his shoulder from someone something deep inside assured him was a friend and that he must not kill, but there was no denying the pain and that it was caused by touch. ------- **Hurt! Defend! Retaliate! Corpses lying on the floor, two lying side by side. Broken necks, two still forms, two enemies …** ----------- Touch woke pain and therefore by its very nature demanded action be taken. ----------- ** “Come on, Zechs.” THERE IS NO DANGER. “Sit up and let me check your shoulder.” Raydon? Giles? REMEMBER. PASS BEYOND IT. IT IS NOT TIME NOW TO KILL “You going to hurl?” Danger? STAND DOWN “You look sort of green.” REMEMBER. Raydon? Long chestnut hair, tight plait falling to a taunt derriere and large eyes in an heart shaped face that were the most astonishing shade that lay somewhere between blue and Violet … No. Wrong. INPUT LINK ESTABLISHED. STABILITY ACHIEVED. DREAM SEQUENCE DEACTIVATION INITIATED. Something … something else. Something not right. PROJECTION SEQUENCE DEACTIVATED. INITIATING HOLDING LINKS. Neck under his hands, fingers gripping tighter and tighter, ignoring the pain, ignoring the whispers of one pleading for life … MEMORY DOWNLOAD INITIATED. No! Wrong. Must not kill! MEMORY DOWNLOAD COMPLETE. Tired of killing. So very tired of killing to stay alive. ERRORS DETECTED IN DOWNLOAD. RESTORATION NOT POSSIBLE AT THIS TIME. Vision. Dreaming. Altering … changing reality … reaching for improvement and pulling in disaster … DISENGAGING SYNAPTIC LINKS. No. Go back. Realign. Do not kill. Raydon? Giles? Zechs? Someone else? Anyone! EPYON STANDING DOWN. Epyon? REMEMBER Ghostly whisper fading into the darkness. “Zechs? You are going to have to sit up for me or at least roll onto your back?” Annoying voice. When would it shut up? When would it leave him be to exist in darkness and peace? REMEMBER No threat? NO THREAT Silence in the void. Solitude. ---------- Pain. His very bones screamed. His blood hurt as it pumped through his veins. There was a thunderous beat somewhere near that might have been his heart or perhaps someone else's? His heart beat? Surely it beat too fast and too erratic. Something was very wrong. “Damn it all man, you have to either sit up or lie down! I can't get to your shoulder with you all curled up like this.” Shoulder? Pain. A source of pain, just one of many pains in this unforgiving reality. Why should somebody care about checking that one pain when there were so many others they no doubt could reach without being such a nuisance? “Milliardo! Milliardo Edwardo Lovernius Christopher Peacecraft! If you do not do as you are told this instant I am going to thump shit out of you and I don't care if you kill me for it. At least I would have got in a couple of blows to make me feel better! Turn the fuck over!” // Milliardo…?// ___________________ *“Milliardo Edwardo Lovernius Christopher Peacecraft! What do you think you are doing? I should tan your backside for such behaviour.” Gasp of mortification and shame … * __________________________ //Father?// “F … Father?” His father so rarely ever raised his voice to him. What had he done that was so wrong? //Turn over? Father does not swear … I'm sorry.// Pain rose in waves about him but he must obey. His father did not swear in his hearing, he never had sworn so it must be terribly important for him to lie down. “You heard me and I'm still alive?” there was a world of shock in that whisper so close to his ear. “Shit. Miracles do happen, I guess. That's right. Just lie back there for a minute and no getting twitchy. Just lie still and let me check you over. God, you're a rotten colour, Zechs. I think I see why you said going into vision was not advisable this late in the game. You look like death warmed over.” //Father? No … I … Zechs? Who is … I don't understand … Father? Help … me … // Hands. Hands pulling at him, poking and prodding and pulling at … at … clothes? Yes. Clothes. Pulling at his shirt. No. No it was not a shirt that defied those insistent hands. Something else. Something more that resisted the strong touch. Something was very wrong with the world. He did not understand. “God, these flight suits are a bitch to get off.” //Flight suits? // What was a flight suit? // Do I need to wear a special suit to fly to Luxembourg with you father?// “No, you stay down and rest. I'm here to guard you, remember? God, your eyes look odd. You don't see me at all, do you? Close your eyes, Zechs. Just lie back and rest. Let me get this suit off enough to check …” Hands on his shoulder and pain rising in very familiar waves of agony, pushing away the dreams and visions. There was no flight to Luxembourg. There was no Sanc Kingdom. There was and never would be again a King of Sanc. “No entry wound? I don't understand. He said you were shot.” /Shot? Who? Someone was wounded?// No, he could not lie still. He had to move. There was danger and he knew whenever there was danger that he would be hunted. From the burning streets of Sanc to the desolation of Mars he would forever be hunted … //Mars?// Something was wrong and he had … he had … something to do. Something must be done. Danger. “Christ! Zechs will you just lie still?” Danger. Someone coming. He knew there was someone there who did not belong and that he must act before it was too late. “Mr. Giles how are you going with Mr Merquise? Ah, here's a basin. From the look of him he's going to heave and he'll be better for being allowed to get it up. Help him turn over or he'll choke on his own vomit. Have you managed to determine how bad the wound is?” Cold. Why was it suddenly so cold? What was happening with the world? Hands on shoulders, warm hands on freezing skin. Movement, forcing him to roll and with the movement the world shifted alarmingly. Shudder birthed of the bitter cold and of something else that eluded him. He grasped after that elusive something. If he could just secure it he would understand what was happening to him and that surely would be better than this limbo and chaos that surrounded him. He needed to understand what was happening to him. Nausea. He would not be able to control himself for much longer. Dizzy. The world spun alarmingly about him and in the confusion and the pain he was lost. Rising out of the maelstrom was the certain knowledge that he was going to heave and with the rising nausea he knew that he was beyond all hope of control. “Hold him! He's got no control whatsoever at the moment. The wound, Giles. How much blood has he lost? Is there a great deal of blood around the site of the wound?” //Giles? Why do I feel like shit?// Out of the confusion and the retching there grew another awareness. This one much more gentle and welcome. Hands rubbed gently at his back an attempt at a kindness surely and for seconds it seemed most welcome but as the nausea receded the pain rose again and each light rub seemed to incite agony. An agony beyond anything he had felt for a very long time. //Not since … since … // What was it that had hurt more than this? What was it that had hurt at least as much as this? Something in the past had hurt him. Something terrible that haunted him and would not permit him to rest. Something that had been darkness and a weight closing in on him … and it had been pain in every nerve of his being … and he had had no escape from it. //Libra.// It had a name and that name was Libra. He knew that pain and he could name it now. He was uncertain if that was an improvement. // Epyon … Libra exploded.// Memory flooded him, dragging him down into swirling depths full of darkness and blue flashing lights and the dark crimson that was blood. His nightmares were reborn but with it came knowledge. `//I exploded Libra. Epyon? I was … trapped … Epyon … lied.// With the memory other memories birthed. Hands touching in the darkness, hands that had incited raw agony and voices that were cold and detached. Voices that held professional coolness when a mad cacophony of sound broke through his awareness … ---------------------------- * “… cardiac arrest! Prep the paddles …” Hands emerging from the darkness. Gentle hands. Warm and caressing, tracing the line of his face and with the hands a deep, mellow voice that was barely more than a whisper yet it drove the cold out of him and demanded that he remain and that he fight though he did not understand for what it was that he must fight. “… You can go beyond this, Milliardo. Yes, I know you. I believe that I have been waiting all of my life for you. I know there is pain but it is nothing that you can not endure. Go beyond it, my friend. Reach beyond it and Heal yourself. Sleep for a time and when you wake the pain will be less.” * ---------------------------------- Raydon. Golden eyes. Raydon was the promise of warmth and safety and something more than the pain and the solitude that he had needed to endure. In some ill understood way Raydon had come to mean safety. Safety and rescue from pain. Shudders shook his body giving rise to a fresh onslaught of pain. The nausea would not leave him and rose again and dry retching only stirred the pain to new heights. He wanted desperately to fall into the blessed abyss that was unconsciousness but there was an urgency about this pain and the annoying voices that would not permit him to welcome that escape. Something needed doing and it would not permit him to rest. He did not understand. “There is no wound. You must have been mistaken, Doc. There is no wound on him that I can find to match what you said you saw.” “No … No, I am certain I saw it. He was shot. I saw him take the bullet.” It was disturbing that he did not recognize that voice. Not even a momentary fragment of familiarity accompanied that voice, unlike the first of the men who annoyed him. He wanted to rest but there was something that needed to be done and why did these men poke and prod at his shoulder? It hurt enough without them pulling it around more. “Well, he has no gunshot wound to his left shoulder or anywhere else that I can find. Has he finished throwing up yet? God, he's tense as a drum. Stiff as metal and cold too.” Hands, burning hot on frigid skin sliding over his forehead and down his shoulder, inciting pain and pressing over his heart which continued to beat rapidly and painfully. Was it a heart beat? No, it could not be. No heart should beat like that but … He must be improving. He at least knew that his perceptions were off. “Cold? We need to get him under a thermal blanket and bring his temperature up. Don't look at me like that, Mr. Giles, he's too far gone to be a danger to anyone just now. Help me get him onto his side.” Pain. He was very tired of the pain but that voice was becoming more and more familiar to him. Familiar touch. He could accept the touch from the one his body if not his mind recognized but … Something … Somewhere in the pain he snarled and the sound awoke the need to preserve his own hide. The unknown was dangerous in this time of the hunt and he would not be taken down by a Sleeper! Sleeper? Danger. The memory of bloody death crowded him and he retaliated, striking out in defence of his freedom. He would not be rounded up and contained. He would not be a helpless prisoner while his children were taken from him and given to those who would exploit their innocence. “No! Damn, you fool! I told you not to touch him. He's so far out of the zone he does not even recognize me, I'm sure of that. At least not consciously. Did he break your arm? On some level I know he must recognize me because he's not taken me out yet, but he does not know you from a bar of soap. Of course he's going to strike out. Give me a minute to get him under control.” “Something tells me that you don't have a minute to waste, Mr Giles. Not from the colour of him or the way that he is losing body heat. His skin is like ice and his heart beat is erratic. He has no strength left to do any real damage to me and I think that may have been his last hoorah for the moment. Get him on his feet if you can and into that room. We need to get him into bed and then I can do what I can to get his temperature up and stabilize his condition. I don't know what is happening here but this abrupt heat loss is not good. How the hell he has become hypothermic I don't understand, but he needs treatment, not arguments.” “I don't have a clue what is happening either but I am not taking him in there! One look at the mess in there is likely to send him right over the edge and I for one do not have any wish to be around if he goes berserk.” “Mess?” “The Sleepers got to your patients and to some of your nurses.” a ragged whisper. Sleepers? Danger! Sleepers! Yes, he knew Sleepers. They hunted … hunted … what? No! He was losing it. He could not afford to lose his stability now. He had to think. He had to maintain his balance and sort out the confusion. // Sleepers. Remember Sleepers and why it is so important to remember. Damn it! More. Remember more … Giles. I remember Giles! Doc. Doc?// He did not know anyone called Doc. Sleepers. Yes, he knew what Sleepers were and what they meant. Death. Giles. That was a name he was familiar with and he remembered they worked together but try as he might he could not place a face to match that name. Not just now. It was known, though and he was to trust that one. // Why? // Why was he supposed to trust the one called Giles? Why should he … // Raydon.// Raydon had sent him. Yes, there was that memory swirling an surfacing through the murky depths. Raydon had sent Giles in secret to protect him and he … he … had … “I don't understand this. I saw him hit by that bullet. Is that a shoe mark? The bruising is heavy. Deep.” Hands pressing into the source of that pain, coldly detached and clinical touch. Hands wandering and focusing on hurt after hurt and he recognized it as a clinical survey. He was being quickly and very professionally examined for injuries. “We need to get the rest of this bandaging off and get that shoulder x-rayed. I see some attempt has been made to clean up and treat these other wounds. That is something at least. What the hell was he doing to be marked up like this?” “Later, Doc.” The world spun alarmingly around him as something changed and the hands on him shifted and gripped him. The touch was carefully away from the worst of the hurts and for that mercy he was more than thankful. “Where do you want him? Be quick about deciding Doc. He's no fly weight you know.” Something … solid? Was that the right word? Something solid beneath his feet. Feet. He had feet. He could feel them and they were just another source of pain. His entire body ached and there was no avoiding that pain but the pain was no longer the worst part. It was the cold. Why was it so cold? Had he done something stupid and taken a bath in ice water? No, of course not. To even ask himself the question was stupid. Was he losing his awareness? Possibly and that could be bad. No, he had not taken a bath in icy cold water. There simply was no reason for him to have done something that idiotic. Was it a dare from Noin? Had he accepted a dare from Noin and taken a bath in ice water just to shut her up? Damn, that girl had a way of making him do utterly stupid things. Treize would have a lot to say when he found out and none of what he had to say would be good. Treize? -------------------------- * Flash of light … An explosion far off in space and barely visible … with it pain lancing through him, rising and carrying him with it. Silent scream of denial and hopelessness. * -------------------------- No. No it could not have happened. It must not have happened but … It had happened. He knew it had happened, just as he had witnessed it so many times before. Epyon. Epyon had said it could be avoided, that he might be able to turn that miserable fate from his childhood friend but … It had happened. Epyon had lied. Treize was dead in the icy chill of space. Ahh … Was this then why he was cold? Did his suit have a leak? Well, if that was the case then blessedly it would be over soon. The chill vacuum of space would finish him despite the machinations of that accursed suit. Epyon had lied! Epyon had told him that he could save his friend. Epyon said that Treize need not die as he had foreseen in the visions to stop the wars to come. Epyon said that they would meet again. -------------- *“Milliardo. I'll be waiting on the other side.”* -------------- Treize. Epyon had lied. Treize had died. ------------- * “Milliardo. I'll be waiting on the other side.” * ------------- * “Do you ever look at the stars, my friend, and wonder what lies out there?” He frowned up at the clear night sky, not a single dark cloud to hide the twinkling stars that arched overhead. Treize stared up at the sky with a look of such longing and hunger. It amazed him that his very down to earth and sensible friend could look up into the night sky and stare with such rapt wonder at the heavens. Noin was like Treize. She too had the ability to stare at the stars and could go on and on talking about what lay out there in the coldness of space and what she would find when she went out to the stars. It held a mystique for them that he simply could not share. It held a magic that enchanted them and as yet he had not found a way to share in their dreams. They were the same stars that had looked down on him when his mother had taken him for a walk along the beach under a full moon and on that night he had felt their magic. It had been wonderful to feel her warmth and to listen to her tell him stories of far away and strange worlds. She had told him of a Princess of the Stars who would seek out her Prince from amongst all of the planets and that this Princess would one day come to Earth and maybe to Sanc in search of her prince. She had said that the Princess might even choose him and take him to the stars with her. He had laughed and danced with her on the shingle beach and it had been very late when they had returned to the palace but he had had wonderful dreams about flying through the stars and walking on beautiful golden worlds. The stars were the same stars that had looked down on him while Sanc burned around him. The same stars that had appeared to light the snowy night and that had watched as the fires melted the snow and washed away the blood and the ashes as he had gazed up fearfully into the sky, afraid that the monstrous giants would once again come and this time they would find him and kill him. “No. I don't understand what you find so fascinating about the stars, Treize. Space is cold and empty.” “Empty?” Warm deep blue eyes, like Mother's sapphires had smiled and gazed hungrily up into the night. “No, Milli, space is not empty. There are billions of worlds out there, far away from this one and when I look up at the stars I see the possibilities of what could lie out there. New worlds. Think of it. Worlds where there could be life. Life very different to that which shaped this world.” “You should have joined the Space Exploration Corps, not become a part of the Alliance, Treize. You sound like you would belong there, looking for new worlds instead of training to fight wars on this one.” Sapphire eyes flashed with wild spirit and the smile that lighted his handsome face was more hungry than joyful. It surprised him and he was afraid of the fire and hunger in his friends face. “I will, one day. I will leave all of this behind and I will go out there, to the stars. Don't look at me with such doubt in your eyes, Milliardo. I would have been a space explorer if there was not such a need for soldiers now.” “I wish you had not become a soldier.” a whisper in the night. His friend's hand was warm as it touched his cheek and his eyes were very gentle now. Soft and warm his hand and he chose not to feel the calluses that marked Treize's hands as those of a Mobile Suit pilot. “I had to become a soldier, my friend. I had to become a soldier to make sure that there will be no other boys who will see the horrors that you have seen. The fighting will stop. I promise you, Milliardo that I will put a stop to all of the wars and then, when it is all done and there is peace … then, my friend, we will go to the stars.” “Why would I want to go to the stars?” He frowned, glaring up at the points of light that seemed to so excite the only one he trusted. Everyone he loved was dead or hidden away and far beyond his reach. Everyone except Treize and so often he just did not understand his friend. “Because out there we can begin again. Out there is a new beginning. Look at the stars, Milliardo. There are uncountable new worlds out there where we can start again. Why should we not find one world amongst so many that has never known war? Why should we not be able to find a world where little boys and their baby sisters can live in peace and grow up laughing together instead of war bringing my Prince to tears? There will be a world where we can stand on a beach and admire the peace that has never been disturbed by the sounds of machines of war. A safe world, Milliardo. A new world just waiting for us to find it.” He stared up into the sky and at the myriad pin points of light and felt his friends eagerness and conviction. Treize really believed that one day there would be another world. “Do you think that there really is such a place?” “Yes. Yes, Milliardo. I know that there is such a place out there. A world where we can start again and we will take others to our new world and they will find it just as beautiful and just as peaceful and so, so perfect. It is out there, beyond our familiar stars. Out there, somewhere, on the other side of the asteroids there will be the way to find our new world. We will go there, together and we will find that world and there will be no more war. When all of the fighting is over I will go there to wait for you. Remember that, Milli. I will be waiting on the other side …” * ------------ “On the … other … side …? Treize.” “Zechs? Zechs, are you with us again? Doc, I think he's coming to.” Voice swirling up from the darkness, familiar and caring. “Treize?” whisper. It was so hard to focus. So hard to talk but he was not alone. “What did he say?” Light touch to his cheek, warm hand. A hand that was familiar but somehow wrong. The calluses were different. Wrong. “Nothing, Doc. He's just mumbling. A bit delirious I think. I'll watch him.” Hands on him. Something sharp pricking his arm but he simply could not be bothered protesting that small abuse. “He will be disoriented at first and likely experience a few minutes delirium. To be honest I would be surprised if he was not somewhat out of reality considering. I must say that I do not agree with you about this. The man needs rest.” “Not again, Doc. We don't have time for this.” “So you say. I believed he called Treize? Treize Kushrenada, perhaps? I had heard he was close to the World Sovereign at one stage.” “They were childhood friends.” // Treize? Where are you?// “In my days in the med corps I heard enough rumors to suggest it was more than merely childhood friendship. That, however is of no concern to me.” Hands on his forehead, moving to his cheek and down to rest over his heart and linger there. “His temperature is climbing so he should recover more quickly. Heart beat is steadier but still not to my liking. Improving, though. Much improved on what he was. Giles, you must understand that I do not dare give him any more medication at this time.” “Just so long as this stuff you have given him will help him get back on his feet.” Yes, it was very important that he get back on his feet, thought for the life of him he could not quite recall why it was so important. “Mr Giles, I don't know why you think the medication I administered was solely administered to get Mr Merquise back on his feet. Yes, I have administered stimulants but I assure you the medication was not administered to get him out of this bed and running around the base again. This man is in trouble. His health hangs on a thread just now. The medication has stabilized his condition and I dare not give him any further treatment at this time. The use of additional stims would do his system serious damage. He is not to be given any more, do you understand? If the administered dosages do not get him on his feet-and I can tell you now that I doubt he will do more than roll over in his sleep- then you are out of luck and you will have to manage without Zechs Merquise.” From close by his side the sigh was marked by exhaustion and worry. “I know, Doc. I know, but we have serious problems and I really need him back in action. At least to an advisory level of awareness. We don't know how many more Sleepers there are active and we still have two members of Blue Squad running around. Zechs has the most experience in dealing with these kinds of situations.” “Personally I don't see that that is the case thought I do see that you believe it. There are other ex military personal who carried reasonable rank and experience who could be of assistance in this situation. I have heard of the Alliance Blue Squad.” there was a wealth of distaste in that quiet voice. “They had an unsavoury reputation when I was in the forces. If he is going to come around and be of help to you then it will happen in the next ten minutes or so. If he is not awake and aware by then you will just have to get used to the idea that he has reached his limits. We all have those, Mr Giles. It is a natural inbuilt safety feature that comes with birth. After a certain point your body simply shuts down and from the marks on him and what you have told me I would say that he has reached that point. I'm sorry, but I do not believe he is going to be of any assistance from this point on. No more medication.” //Not good. Tired, but I have work to do. I have to wake up. // “Understood. Oh Doc, before you go, did you take the knife from the hallway?” “Knife?” “Yeah. The Sleeper agent dropped a knife in the hallway and when I went to collect his weapons I could only find the gun.” //Gun? Knife? What happened in the hallway?// “I saw no knife. Only the gun and that was fitted with a silencer. Give him a few minutes, Mr. Giles and please, do not rush him. That will do more harm than good. I will be back to check on him after I have checked on Jenny Santos in Recovery.”
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