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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 ShenLong for betaing this chapter. //... // thoughts
"Alternative Directions: Options" Chapter 187 Preventer Patrol Cruiser E106 Bounty Date 2nd March AC 198 Time: 13:08 Bounty Ship Time [Peacemission time 09:53] Duo It was disturbing that as he followed the Ensign through the halls of the Bounty en route to lunch with the Captain, Duo found his thoughts drifting to how well the uniform fitted the slightly older man. The Ensign walked a little ahead of him, just out of his personal space which resulted in Duo having a fine view of his broad back, military posture and tight derrière. The Ensign cut a fine figure, the clothing being well tailored to fit his frame and carefully pressed. The pride he had in his position was reflected in how he wore the uniform, and the care taken with his personal grooming suggested he was brought up to be conscious of how others saw him. The young man was aware of the power of appearance and was endeavouring to look the part of his role. He was certainly officer material and watching him and the way he walked, Duo determined the man had ambitions. He intended to further his career, meaning while he was on duty he would be all duty and carry out every instruction to the letter speedily and efficiently. Duo knew the type and he admitted he liked that type. Officers attracted him. Maybe it was the power they generated, or perhaps it was simply their awareness of the responsibilities that lay inherent with their position. Whatever it was he always found himself looking twice at an officer and often he found his body informed him some officers were more exceptional than others. Not that he had been fool enough to dally with members of the Preventer hierarchy. He had always been conscious of the requirements of command and so had been careful not to have a personal relationship, which included a sexual relationship, with any officer who outranked him or were of a lesser rank. He was also careful not to have dalliances with the people he immediately worked with. His one affair with a Preventer agent who had equal rank to his own at the time of their involvement, had been an unmitigated disaster. He had been surprised to find himself attracted to officers in the first place. Careful observation of his reactions to individuals had led him to discover he favoured those who were aware of the requisites of propriety and responsibility, as engendered by their positions over the rank and file, and who did not abuse that position. Those who had attracted his notice had proven to be young, within five or six years of his own age and none more than one year his junior, were reasonably good looking and their gender did not particularly worry him. Male as well as female equally drew his notice. //Damn, what the hell do I think I am doing?// He forced his attention away from the shape and flex of the Ensign’s backside as he walked and turned his gaze to the corridor around him and the approaching door. The meal, initially slated to take place in the Officers mess, had been changed to now take place in the Captain’s cabin. Just what did he have to tell this man? Little enough, but somehow he had to twist it to make it sound more than it was. He needed more time to ascertain anything more interesting than the colour of Howard’s shirt. //Well, what I have will just have to do. I’m no psychic to glean information out of thin air and I won’t stoop to lying. Tracy seems an okay sort of guy, he’ll just have to understand my resources are limited to the time I have had to extend feelers out.// Ensign Kerr stopped before the cabin door, glanced over his shoulder to ensure Duo was present, and properly presentable, Duo mused, and rapped his knuckles smartly against the door. The keypad at the side of the door flashed green and the Ensign pushed the door open and stepped inside. “Agent Reaper, Sir.” “Show him in, Ensign.” Kerr stepped back outside the door and to one side, inclining his head formally as he cleared the doorway. He gave no hint of being aware of the attention Duo had been giving him on their transit through the ship and for that Duo was thankful, but he wondered if, after Kerr’s shift, he would relax enough to perhaps spend some social time with Duo? //Damn! I haven’t looked at anyone seriously for months and suddenly I’m checking everything out with legs and a butt? Damn that bloody quack! What has she stirred up?// “Thank you, Ensign.” Duo murmured as he strode past the taller man. “Captain Tracey.” Duo was aware of the smart salute Kerr snapped out before he leaned forward to close the door and he knew the young man would turn smartly on his heels and march off down the hallway. Kerr was the sort who would assume there were eyes on him and he would not be caught slacking. Though a little larger than his own quarters, Duo was gratified to see the Captain’s cabin was remarkably similar to his own. Rank had its privileges, but luxurious cabins on long haul ships were not one of them, at least not amid the Preventer fleet. He presumed there would be a little extra room for hidden storage, but the amenities would be the same for everyone onboard. “I apologize for the delay in our luncheon arrangements, Mr. Maxwell. We had a few incidents which required my attention.” Tracey’s hand was warm and dry, calloused as Duo’s own bore calluses. It was the hand of a man who had known hard, physical labour and who had, in his recent past, flown a mobile suit. His uniform jacket was thrown across his bunk and the computer consol at one side of the room was littered with papers and discs. “I’m sure the departure for a patrol has its difficulties, Captain,” Duo returned. He admitted to himself his surprise to see he would be eating alone with the Captain. The small table was pulled from the wall and set for two with a stool at each place setting. It looked like the seats had emerged from the floor plates and Duo determined he needed to do a little more exploring of his own cabin. To one side a two tier trolley sat, bearing covered dishes and what looked to be a silver service, and Duo could not mistake the aroma of real, freshly ground coffee. “However efficient we are, it seems there are always a few wrinkles which need to be ironed out. Due to the lateness of the hour and the duties of my officers, we shall be eating alone. Please, have a seat.” Duo settled onto the indicated chair and watched as the Captain moved to wheel the trolley closer to the table before taking the seat opposite him. “I think we are capable of serving ourselves and to be honest, it is best that few know what we shall be discussing.” Uncertain as to the exact protocol to be followed in this meal with the Captain, normally they would be served, Duo merely nodded and tried to look cool, calm and collected. He was out of his comfort zone, but he was not about to reveal how uncomfortable he was. Captain Tracey lifted a lid and surveyed the selection of vegetables revealed. “I suggest you enjoy a decent fresh meal while you can. Soon enough we will be down to frozen rations heated in a microwave for special occasions and travel packs and tubes on a daily basis.” Duo could not help the smirk. “They say it is very good for the figure.” Tracey snorted softly. “It does wonders for food appreciation when you can get the real thing. Take what you please, Duo, there is no need to stand on ceremony at the moment.” “I have taken the opportunity to send word to a contact amid the Sweepers who might be able to learn something about the Station Alliance. He may even be able to find out some information on Kristian Khushrenada if we are lucky, though I will not hold my breath on that. It will likely take some time.” “Soon enough it will seem like we have an infinite amount of that on our hands,” Tracey sighed, spooning carrots, broccoli and crumbed, deep fried mushrooms onto his plate. “I am hopeful your contacts might be of help to us. Preventers should have heard whispers of this Station Alliance if it is, as this man suggests, advanced sufficiently to take the step of declaring independence from the ESUN.” “I can’t honestly say that I have heard rumours of anything which might be a new colony, or even a smaller space station. The only Khushrenada I hear rumours about are the continual whispers that Treize Khushrenada survived the war and is hiding out in some backwater alley. As if that man would hang out in an alley.” Duo rolled his eyes, reaching for a domed lid and lifting it to release the heady aroma of roasted meat into the cabin. “In the past I have spent a few months chasing rumours of him lurking in mining stations on our patrols. If the man was alive I very much doubt he would be anywhere but in the thick of political intrigue, and firmly at the forefront of the world.” “I have to admit when he revealed his name during his speech I didn’t think Kristian Khushrenada looked anything like Treize at all.” Duo inhaled deeply the heady aroma of roasted beef and his mouth began to water. He really was hungry. “But then, it’s not like I knew either of them.” “I have been attempting to locate information on him which, at the moment, seems to consist primarily of supposition. I hope to receive more accurate data in the next few hours and perhaps your contacts might be of help. The last confirmed information I received on a Kristian Khushrenada was a newspaper report on the disappearance of a child many years ago. It was a very high profile case involving kidnapping, so I am hoping the records of the police investigation on Earth might offer us some information that might be of use.” Duo deposited a healthy amount of meat on his plate, doused it with the gravy and considered the selection of vegetables. It did not matter what the food was, with a notable few exceptions, he enjoyed eating it. “Before I left my cabin I received a reply from my contact in the Sweepers. He acknowledged the message, but he also requested I inform you there is a debris field crossing the path of Earth traffic outward bound toward Mars and the Asteroid Belt. He requests you pass on the warning to all shipping.” The Captain paused in lifting the serving platter laden with meat to make dishing himself a serving easier and eyed Duo for a long moment. “A debris field? Did he give you any details?” A serving of meat found its way onto the Captain’s plate, dwarfing Duo’s and making him reconsider what he had thought was almost a piggish serving. With the Captain so free with the meat, Duo snagged another piece onto his plate. He would take the Captain’s advice and example and enjoy the meal while he could. “No. The message was brief, warning that the Sweepers will be laying alert beacons in the next few hours. They are still tracking the debris field, determining the extent of the area affected. I got the impression it is sizable; Sweepers don’t lay warning beacons if it is a quick clean up. He guestimates the clean up could take as long as four weeks.” “You have the coordinates?” Anything cluttering the space lanes was dangerous and a debris field could be responsible for crippling, or destroying, the many ships that plied the space lanes. With the recent pick up in mining in the Asteroid Belt, and the influx of wealth from it, joy riders were becoming more common in the deeper reaches of settled space. “I have coordinates attached to the message, but I daresay they would not be the full extent of the field. Those will be forthcoming, as soon as they have determined the full size and density of the affected area.” “If you will pass on the coordinates, interim as they are, I will have a message despatched on a general frequency to all outward bound shipping, warning of the hazard with the assurance detailed coordinates will be forthcoming as soon as possible.” Duo nodded, piling his plate equally as well as the Captain’s own. He would work it off in the gym the first chance he got, he promised himself, and meals of this size and quality would be few and far between in the coming months. Captain Tracey lifted the lid on a third platter and smiled at the roast potatoes and parsnips available for his selection. “Do you know how close to Mars this friend of yours is?” “I am not certain exactly how close the ship would be to the planet itself, but I believe they can’t be any more than a week or two away.”
“I am unsure as to the Sweepers exact location, or how many of them there are. Frequently the Sweepers travel in pairs and sometimes as many as five ships could congregate for up to a week or more. They use their proximity to each other for social interaction between the crews; to swap information and entertainments. The Sweepers are constantly on the move. Howard’s message was brief. He has asked for a few hours to contact acquaintances and determine what information he can get. He will get back to me as soon as he can with what he has learned.” Captain Tracey considered the meal before him and inclined his head to Duo. “Fair enough. You have accomplished more than I expected given the time I gave you. I have sent requests to a number of sources and hope to hear something by tomorrow morning, ship's time. As soon as you can, give me the coordinates you were sent and I will contact the com and have a general alert sent out. The weather difficulties they are experiencing in the European sector of the Earth just now are making communications difficult with headquarters. We will largely need to follow the basic mission brief until updates and revisions are forthcoming from headquarters.” “If I can have access to your terminal I can retrieve the coordinates now.” The Captain negligently waved a hand in the direction of his consol. “By all means, help yourself. The terminal is active, merely in sleep mode.” Duo was quick to access his shipboard account and with a care for security concerns accessed his email, lifting the coordinates attached to Howard’s message and quickly sealing his account. He returned to the table, motioning to the screen where the coordinates were displayed and settled in his seat to tuck into his meal which, he noticed, the Captain had been doing while he worked. “Enjoy your meal while I alert the com.” Duo nodded as the Captain moved to the terminal and focused his attention on savouring his meal. For food on a long haul spacecraft this was a princely meal and there was sufficient gravity to keep the food on the plates where it belonged. He could hear the Captain speaking to his officers in the background and giving the coordinates. The quality of this meal gave him hope for future dietary requirements being met with something besides unappetising ration tubes and high protein bars. This close into the hub of the Earth Sphere he supposed it was not surprising they had decent fresh food; it was readily available from Earth directly or the colonies. No doubt as the Bounty moved deeper into space and further from civilization the fresh and frozen stores would dwindle and they would find themselves more often eating nutritional, but totally unappetising, cardboard flavoured rations. He could not say he was looking forward to it. Captain Tracey returned to the table and settled into his seat. “The warning will be passed along to all shipping heading out of the central hub in the general direction of the Martian orbit. It is really only those who are within the last month or so of their flights approaching, or on a flyby course with Mars, who will have their flight vectors affected by the field. I expect the mess will be long cleared away by the time we reach Mars.” Duo paused, his fork raised, gravy dripping back to the plate as he caught an undertone in the Captain’s voice. He stared at the man for a long moment, noting the faint twitch of his lips and the deepened frown line. “What?” With an eyebrow arched the Captain paused in assembling a healthy fork full of meat and vegetables. “Is there a problem, Mr. Maxwell?” Duo closed his mouth, lowering the fork to his plate and tilted his head slightly, studying the older man. “I’m missing something, aren’t I?” “Are you?” Tracey smirked. “There is much to be said for the power of coincidence, Mr. Maxwell.” His eyes flicked to the computer terminal, drawing Duo’s instant attention and the former pilot of Deathscythe abandoned his meal to study the detailed trajectory projection depicted on the screen. It seemed the Captain had been doing more than notifying his crew of a flight hazard. Revealed for Duo to see was the orbital position of Mars at the present time, the area in red detailed the known area of the debris field and all known shipping in the area of it. “Ah.” Duo murmured. “Problem, Mr. Maxwell?” The Captain was clearly amused. Duo snickered softly, returning to the table and stuffed his mouth full of vegetables and roast beef. After chewing and thoroughly enjoying the mouthful, he swallowed and met the Captain’s gaze. “Well, that might depend.” “On?” Duo could not help the curl of his lip which gave away his feelings on the situation. “Captain Tracey, what do you know about the Captain of the Wellington?” “At the present time, Mr. Maxwell, I know very little about him, but I suspect very soon I will know a great deal more about his character and his dedication to duty; as opposed to his dedication to his ship and his crew.” Duo nodded slowly. “I will be very interested in learning more of the man myself.” The Captain enjoyed a few mouthfuls of his meal and finally looked up at Duo who was making great inroads into his own plate. “Is it not amazing how so often the best laid plans can go astray by the smallest unforeseen event?” “Not that a debris field that will take up to four weeks to clean up can be considered exactly small,” Duo returned, “but yes, it is amazing what can go wrong with a mission directive.” His eyes flicked back to the chart displayed and the white arcs denoting the course of the planet and the trajectory of the notation which equated to the ESUN Wellington. A large field of red separated the planet from that incongruous looking number on the screen. For a fleeting instant he found himself wondering about that coincidence, but it was far too farfetched to think anyone’s hand was involved in this. Sometimes circumstances simply worked for you. “It is fortunate for certain people the flight vector of the Wellington intersects with the debris field,” Tracey murmured. “I assume her Captain would not be inclined to take unnecessary chances with the welfare of his ship or his crew?” Duo mused, the inflection of his tone making his musing a more a question. “I certainly would not take the chance of entering a debris field. An uncharted field could contain anything from micro sized debris, to something sufficiently large to do real damage to a ship; even a ship the size of the Wellington. The exact danger involved would be calculated on the contents of the debris field and be determined by the source of the field, its velocity and the spread of the detritus. I would be considerate of my ship and her crew and, at the very least, slow down to reduce the impact of anything large enough to do me damage.” Duo nodded. “Let us hope the Wellington’s Captain is as thoughtful as you, Captain Tracey.” Tracey glanced at the computer terminal as a red light began to blink. With a sigh the man set aside his knife and fork and rose. “We have some hours ahead of us before we will know the mettle of the Wellington’s Captain. I would imagine there would be one or more people on Earth who would be more than unhappy to learn of the debris field.” Duo considered his plate and could not restrain his smile from growing wider the more he thought of the problems the debris field could cause for the mission in operation at this time on Mars. This kind of difficulty no mission strategist could factor in to their scenarios. The odds of something like this interfering with a mission were astronomical, but it was happening out there, in the vastness of space. The Wellington was not going to have as clear or speedy a run to Mars as was detailed in her mission portfolio and it would hopefully gain the terra formers some time to deal with whatever horrors were befalling them. “I would imagine someone on Earth would be unhappy to hear of the discovery of the hazard.” The Captain smiled as his fingers ran over the consol. “Have you ever noticed how some unexpected news can brighten your day?” “Yeah. Some days things just go right, you know?” “And some days you have to take the good with the bad.” Tracey frowned at the screen which no longer showed the projected flight trajectory of the Wellington. “Something wrong, Captain?” Tracey had straightened, resting a hand on his hip and resting his weight on the hand spread on the consol. The underlying amusement in his voice had faded and was replaced by a more serious tone. “News from an acquaintance of mine on L1, Mr. Maxwell. It seems a couple of hours ago someone fired a rocket into the headquarters complex of the Preventer Station on colony L1-0025 B.” Duo’s fork hit the plate with a ringing sound, drawing the Captain’s attention. “Something wrong, Mr. Maxwell?” “Trowa… I… have a friend on L1-0025 B. A Preventer.” Captain Tracey glanced at the message on the screen and sighed softly. “There are a number of deaths and serious injuries, but no names have been given. Hopefully your friend was not at the headquarters at the time of the explosion.” t.b.c.
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