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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 47
Asteroid Belt Station One 1st March AC 198 Time 23:45 [Ship time] 16:33 MST [Mars Standard Time] Raydon Silken strands of purest silver intermingled with strands of softest white, kissed with the faintest glimmer of palest gold to set up the subtlest of highlights. Silk was harsh compared to this shimmering mass that flowed in a cascade over flesh that glimmered with a satin sheen. The palest golden blush kissed cream coloured flesh. His hand caressed, skimming over the downward curve of a broad back to lightly, delicately stroke in the hollow of the back, fingers splaying to measure the narrow waist and trail up the rising curve of firm buttocks. "My pardon, Sir. I regret to inform you that your presence is required." His lips touched the warm shoulder, nibbling, tasting the warmth and uniqueness and working slowly, gently, feather light touches, tongue lightly caressing, kissing the rising curve of shoulder, dipping down across the shoulder blade. He heard the low sigh and echoed it, his breath warm and teasing as he kissed his way delicately to nest in the hollow between ear and shoulder, sucking lightly, delicately at sweet flesh. Enough to tease, never to mark. "Sir. Officer Hampshire requests a few minutes of your time." He rolled away from the intrusion of light disturbing the sensual beauty of perfect cream and gold kissed in silver. He followed the vision, unwilling to allow any escape. Now that he had his hands on that delectable body there was no way he was losing the chance to plunder fine lips, to caress high cheekbones and dip his hands down, tracing the enticing curve of hip and... "Raydon, wake up. It is regrettable but there appears to be no help for it. You are needed." He snarled in the sudden brilliant intrusion of light, turning away from the unwelcome invasion of light, noise and people into the most pleasant of dreams of sensual delights to be savored. An invasion into the world where he salved his ache for the presence of a blonde beauty who refused to see what was before him. He had lusted after that beauty and passed beyond lust, knowing it to be a dishonor to one who deserved so much more that mere physical gratification. He would have that blonde idiot who cared too much for those who wished him dead and for those who had no care of him at all. He had run from him, from him, Raydon, Master of Station One, in fear of emotions he could not understand and in fear of whispers of war. He would have his sweet blonde fool returned, and he would court him until he made the delightful creature understand what was good for him. Yes, there had been war, he admitted that freely. Dekim Barton, that monumental egotist had not been intelligent enough to know when to leave well enough alone. He had been far from surprised that Barton had invested a fortune in time, money and lives in that ill fated little rebellion of his. Had Barton survived his attempt to conquer the Earth Sphere, he would have had no qualms about, and much satisfaction in hunting the idiot down for disrupting the day to day business activities of the Raiders with his little war. For months after the Barton Incursion they had had to curtail their activities while the Preventers and Earth Sphere forces had hunted escapees from the defeated Barton army. Even in the depths of space, out on the rim of the asteroid belt they had had to curtail activity until some semblance of normality returned. The losses to their profits alone, without the sheer inconvenience of the situation, would have earned Barton a bullet in the brain from any of his men, and a rapier through the heart from himself. Then, too, because of that moron and his dynastic dreams of conquest, the object of his affections had bolted from his protection, and in the best noble tradition gone and thrown his life into the firing line once more. What was it with Peacecraft that made the man think so little of his life that he was so willing to throw it away? It had not been his fight. Damn Barton and his lust for power games, and damn Kushrenada too, for having a daughter and giving her grandfather the foot hold that permitted him to secure the loyalty of Treize Faction soldiers. Damn the corruption of the Earth Sphere for giving rise to the opportunity for Barton to make his move. Damn that beautiful idiot, Marquise himself, for running off when he should have been safely on Station One, and damn himself for failing to keep his Prince who by now should have been securely won to his suit and warming his bed. No, not Marquise. Peacecraft. Raydon would not belittle the man and his birthright, though he felt himself a failed and shameful son to that ancient lineage. He would work on that. He would teach his Prince that he was no failure. He would teach him so many things, not the least of which was that he had never failed his people. He would even see about having his soon to be lovers selfish and arrogant sister reconcile, if only to ease that heart that had bore too many sorrows. Instead of remaining here, on Station One where his safety was assured, his blonde beauty had gone and gotten himself confined to that hunk of dusty rock called Mars and then compounded his idiocy by shacking up with that black haired Amazon who had pursued him relentlessly for years. He had not allowed that little matter of Noin to disturb his dreams, though. Lucrezia Noin might well have him now, but Raydon would win in the end, of that he had no doubt. He could be patient, understanding and above all, irresistible. He had already had a nursery prepared for his soon to be lovers children. When his agent had reported the location of his Peacecraft Prince, he had sought out solitude to consider the revelations. When his agent had reported the birth of the children he had found himself smiling and looking forward to the family that would come to brighten this metallic world hanging in space. He had decided that though she might try, Noin would never be able to satisfy the needs of one such as his future consort. He could accept that she had succeeded in bedding his Prince. Yes, she was, from all reports, a vital, vibrant and possessive woman. She might have gotten herself into his bed, but getting into his heart was another matter entirely. She would never be able to do it. Beautiful as she was, loyal as she was, sensual as she might be, she was not meant to win that man. She would understand that in the future. He would bring his mate to Station One, surround him with the truth of his heritage and aid him to come to terms with the terrible truth of his past and his future. Noin would never be able to accept the visions. He could accept that aspect of the Peacecraft. It was a part of Milliardo, heart, body and soul. There was no escaping it. His Prince was too new to the gift to understand it properly. A terrible gift, yes, even worse than the gifts of some of the others who now lived on Station One. It was a part of the Peacecraft heritage and that was something his Milliardo would have to learn to accept. It was not Epyon that had given this ability to him, but the very blood in his veins that carried it. That same bloodline would mean that the little Prince and Princess must be nurtured and protected and raised to deal with the abilities that must in time develop. Hopefully they would not be cursed with their fathers unstable and terrible Sight, but some more manageable gift. He had no problem with accepting the children of the Amazon who had given them birth, they were, after all, the offspring of his... "Sir." the quiet voice was firm and no quiver betrayed any anxiety. The quiet strength of the voice cut through his musings like a hot knife through butter. "Officer Hampshire requests..." "I know the little snit wants me. It had better be good, Maurice, or I'll flay him alive and gut you for waking me up at this hour." he snarled, rolling onto his back, the last visions of white blonde hair and gold and cream flesh evaporating in a burst of irritation. "Christ, what time is it? I feel as though I only just crawled into bed." A moments silence followed by a dimming of the lights. "As a matter of fact, Sir, you have been in bed only thirty minutes or so." there was a certain amusement in the quiet voice. "I'm going to kill the little weed. What does he want?" He forced himself to sit up, unmindful of the disarray of the bedding or his naked state. "No doubt he is hoping to catch a glimpse of your naked magnificence." came the tart response accompanied by a dramatic roll of gray eyes. "Maurice!" a snarl. "What does he want?" Maurice grinned, unrepentant. He was a middle aged, genteel looking man, quite proper in his ramrod straight stance and perfectly trimmed goatee. He had been in service to the King of Raiders, as his employer was so quaintly called, for the past two years and he had been pleasantly surprised by the man. The man and the station they called home were far from typical, and he found his life far from boring. The personal of Station One were an entertaining and active community that readily welcomed those driven out of the Earth Sphere. It had not taken him long to understand the ways and nature of this man who had taken him from a past best left forgotten and given him a new chance at life. He had chosen of his own accord to give his loyalty to Raydon and as part of that loyalty, and to make serving him more efficient, he had made himself aware of the internal currents amid the crew of the station. He had come to understand the sexuality of his chosen Master and knew that there were many, both male and female, who would have leapt at the chance to draw Raydons interest. Few, however, in his opinion were worthy of the man, and fewer still had the temerity to think they stood a chance. One of those interested parties was a young communications officer who began to salivate whenever Raydon crossed his path. Maurice had found it rather amusing and not a little pathetic the antics the man employed in a bid to gain the attention of his employer. Raydon had made it plain after the first instance when he was propositioned by the younger man that he was in no way interested. That had, of course, not deterred the pursuit of the Pirate King by the com officer who used every excuse imaginable to gain private access to the object of his desire. It amused Maurice that there was a running wager on Station One over whether Raydon would space his ardent admirer out the nearest air lock, or transfer him to a Raider Ship to get rid of him. Maurice believed the current odds favored the air lock. Certainly if the man did not have a very good excuse on this occasion, he would very likely soon be floating amid the asteroids. Raydon had very little opportunity in his days to relax, and sleep was becoming a scarce and precious occurrence when it could be snatched. The business of legitimizing the Raiders activities was a long and convoluted proposition and Raydon was running himself ragged on behalf of his people. "I have no idea, Sir. He does insist that you would want to know, with all haste, that he is waiting for you. Apparently the news is of considerable importance to you." "I hate you. I hate him." Raydon snarled and then groaned. "And I hate never getting a good nights sleep!" "Quite, Sir. Shall I have the little snit thrown into the brig for disturbing your beauty sleep?" On dark brow lifted in a questioning slant. A bellow of laughter and a pillow thrown at him saw Maurice walking calmly out the door after having caught the offending air born object and placing it neatly on the bed. Raydon could hear him through the door informing Communications Officer Eric Hampshire that his commanding officer would be out shortly. The man never ceased to amaze Raydon. When he had hired Maurice he had not really expected to have a need for a Gentleman's Gentleman. For so long he had been separated from the formalities and traditions of the nobles of the Europe and their society. He thought he had forgotten that life, so long had it been since he had entertained it. However, it had not taken Maurice long to make himself indispensable to the King of Raiders. Raydon could not deny that it had become a much more comfortable and ordered life since Maurice had joined his household. "One day I am going to take that man and his disgustingly neat goatee and throw him out an airlock. No. No, I will shave that goatee and then stuff him out the air lock. This had better be good or that idiot Hampshire will kiss space without a suit." Throwing on a floor length robe of deep crimson velvet he stalked into the bathroom of his suite, muttering about moronic officers who had no sense of self preservation. He did, however acknowledge the uneasy feeling in his gut. Hampshire may have been an idiot where his hormones were concerned, but generally he was a good officer. That was the reason he had not yet suffered at the hands of Raydon's anger. There had been disturbing snatches of dreams lately, and he knew that to be the forerunner to trouble. He already had his Gifted Ones concentrating on that unease that infected them all. Running a brush through his shoulder length black hair he considered the stubble darkening his face and wondered why he didn't just grow a beard and then snorted, amused. Simple answer. He never made it past day four without itching himself into a rage and giving up in disgust. He was not what one would expect to see when faced with the King of Raiders, and that amused him. For now, shaving could wait. To be honest, if only with himself, he had never imagined himself looking like Black Beard the Pirate. Besides, if he was lucky after shoving the com officer out the air lock for wasting his time, he could get a few hours sleep. Tying his hair into a loose ponytail he stalked into the main room of his suite. "Well, Hampshire. What do you have for me?" The com officer came to attention, snapping his heels sharply together and saluting, back poker stiff eyes as always devouring his commanding officer with undisguised interest that in seconds turned to rigidly controlled lust. Eyes that, while they roved over Raydon's body, did so with respect for the rank of the man. Hampshire was ex military and though he had not long been in service he knew he likely would never have a chance to know the mans favors, but that did not stop him enjoying the view. Any hope he had ever entertained for more would come to naught, when Raydon received his news. He was no fool and knew where Raydons interests lay. Over the officers shoulder Raydon could see Maurice shaking his head in amusement, all attention to the mans antics. In truth, if Hampshire had still been in a military organization he likely might have been complimented on his style, however that excessive military style was not used on Station One. Raydon ran a more relaxed bridge, but he chose to ignore the mans antics. He half suspected that Hampshire used that type of formality to remind himself of the distinction of their ranks. "Communications have been received from our agents on Mars, Sir. A matter of minutes between each and received over alpha and delta band widths." "Validated?" Raydon felt the desire for sleep slip away from him, instantly alert. He forgot the air lock in favor of silently cursing the blonde who had run and gotten himself caught. Trouble on Mars could only mean one thing when that stubborn delectable man was resident there. Perhaps when he pulled Peacecraft's shapely butt out of the fire the man would acknowledge the simple truth. Milliardo Peacecraft did not belong in the Earth Sphere. "Yes, Sir. ESUN agents have arrived on Mars. Our agents have confirmed that the new arrivals are ESUN security personal, formerly of an elite Alliance task force known as Blue Squad. I understand that it has been confirmed by the agents through monitoring of Preventer channels and ESUN Security frequencies that the agents are there to remove Zechs Marquise and his children from Mars and place them in `protective custody' on Earth. There are two confirmed kills attributed to Lucrezia Noin at this time. In anticipation of your instructions I have set a watch on all official Preventer and ESUN bands. When they mention Mars we will know." //Damn. I knew there was trouble coming. We have received no warning from The Gifted, though. I will need to speak with them. Milliardo, you do try my patience. When I bring you to Station you will have to admit that there is no place for you there, sister or no on Earth. Sanc is lost to you, Love. Accept it. But first, I need to get you to Station.// "Return to your station, Hampshire. I'll be on the bridge in a few minutes. I want a list of our ships and their proximity to Mars waiting for me." "Sir! Additional information sir!" "Well?" impatient. Sleep was forgotten. He had too much to do to entertain this mans idiocy over protocols that had no place on Station. "Sir, I have noted time anomalies in the communications from Mars. There appears to be a time delay on signals originating from Mars and channeling through the Daccar III communications satellites. Our agents sent the messages three hours ago, sir." //Three hours ago? God, do you mock me? What the hell is going on on Mars if this is three hours old?// "Acknowledged, Hampshire. Return to the bridge." "Sir!" again the snap of heels and salute and Hampshire stalked from the room. So, the ESUN were controlling communications. Raydon slowly began to pace the length of the suite, dark hair slowly falling out of the hastily tied restraint, dark eyes narrowed. At the very least delaying the communications allowed the ESUN to have greater control of the situation on Mars. It would not be the only reason they entertained the sacrilege of interfering with the Daccar III system. The agents he had secreted amid the terra forming community to investigate the trading potential with the fledgling colony had sent him the very welcome news of the formerly unknown fate of his desired consort. When he had leaned of Milliardo's fate he had been half of a mind to take a ship or two and kidnap the blonde. His first thoughts had been squashed under his own common sense. He had originally allowed the man to leave to find out for himself that he no longer belonged amid the Earth Sphere. He had permitted him to leave knowing that he would return under his own volition and that on that day he could court the man and do so knowing he was receptive. Milliardo Peacecraft was not a fool, but he had ancient ties to that blue pearl of beauty they called Earth. He had to let those ties fall and only he could cut the cords. His Captains all used the ESUN's Daccar III system as the most efficient of the satellite relay stations in their vicinity. It was a restricted system, of course, which caused him to smile as he had scores to settle with the ESUN and certain other influential bodies that had invested a number of fortunes in the construction of the system. It was only fitting that he use their technology free of charge. They owed him. If the ESUN were interfering with the integrity and performance of that system then they were delaying the Preventers communications and possibly the Mining Consortiums Security as well. The Daccar system were intended for the exclusive use of ESUN space forces, Preventer communications relays and the Mining Consortiums Security network. A high speed radio communications relay system for critical message delivery. Those ESUN agents newly arrived on Mars were clearly up to no good. He would view the message logs himself for the last few days after he had made some initial decisions. His people recorded all communications to come through the system, after all, one never knew quite when some interesting tit bit of information might be overheard. He would need to ensure that his communications with his own agents on Mars would be unaffected by the ESUN's time delay and that would be Hampshire's first order of business. Establishing reliable communications was vital. Lord knew there was enough of a delay without satellite interference adding to it. He needed to account for time delay in his plans, both the interference and the natural time delay. It very likely could already be a disaster on Mars. What would be best to do? He only had the two agents secreted amid the terra formers. He could not afford to chance his limited resources and when he had sent the initial agent he had not known of Peacecrafts location. The second agent was sent to back up the first should there be a threat to Milliardo. The original mission had still needed to be carried out. Mars held potential for the Raiders in time. No, they would not always be considered pirates and rogues. He had respectable plans for his people. They were outcasts and the flotsam of the ESUN when he picked them up. The unwanted. Many of them soldiers abandoned after the wars with no place to go and no understanding of why they had been cast aside. They were his now and he would not always have them in danger of death as they formed their own community. He would not abandon his own, not as the ESUN had. They would form their own independent colonies. Mars would be a trading partner with the Independent Station Colonies that he was setting up. The captains under his command were the best he could find, and they were dedicated to the plans to become independent colonies, separated from the Earth Sphere Unified Nations. Separated, but equal trading partners with the Earth Sphere. In the fullness of time. He would not change his mind on that score. He would need to consider the time factors in this matter carefully and the responsibility to his people, but he had one basic instruction for his ships captains. He was not concerned with profit now. Events had changed the game plan and business was on hold as far as he was concerned. The prime requirement for his officers now was to get to Mars and take that stubborn blonde and his family out of the ESUN's control. He had allowed Milliardo too much freedom and it was time to act. He would even be magnanimous and give instructions for that woman who lusted after his future consort to be fetched too. He'd work around her presence and teach his future partner that he did not need her. Amazons were all very well in their place but she undoubtedly was a pushy bitch who was more concerned with herself than the needs of his beloved blonde idiot. Peacecraft was too forgiving, too inexperienced in personal relationships to understand what he could have. In the courtship of the blonde Prince his greatest advantage, over Lucrezia Noin, was that she could never understand the needs of one who was Gifted, and he was not above using that fact to his advantage. That was why he would succeed in winning the Prince of Sanc. She could never accept the needs of the Gifted. "Instructions, Sir?" the older man stood at his side, a careful and proper pace and a half from his employer. //Mmm, you are entirely too smug, Maurice. You believe you know me so well, don't you? I need to keep you guessing. Can't have you thinking you can predict my every move, even though you likely can. I have a reputation to maintain. Let me see, where best to send you that will remind you that ... ah, yes. Perfect. You hate the warehouses.// "Have the nursery suite readied and the Red Room prepared for our royal guests. You can also have a room readied for Noin. One of the vacant officers quarters on level seven will do." He acknowledged the smirk that just for an instant flickered into existence at the distance he was laying between Noin and the object of their mutual desire. Of course, the Red Room adjoined this suite. // Seven is far enough away from this level. She will understand immediately the implications of the move. I will have to allow her access to the children, but there will be a ban on her entering the Red Room. I need a place where he can find the solitude he needs when the Gift awakes. It will give him time to consider life without her constant influence on his every decision. From what I know of her, she is a determined, strong personality and he is vulnerable while his gift wakes. There would not be many places on Mars where he could get the peace he needs when he needs it the most.// Arch of one single eyebrow and a smirk played on full lips framed by the too neat goatee. "Yes, Sir. Level seven. When may we expect to have our guests arrive, Sir?" // Ah. Smirk all you wish. I know what you think of the warehouses.// "Sit on it, Maurice. I'm well aware how long it will take to get them to Station. You, however, will start redecorating the nursery and the Red Room tonight. I want rough designs and samples for my approval by tomorrow. You will need to consult with The Gifted Training Masters for appropriate colour selection, but ensure there is a certain style to the suite. He is the Prince of Sanc and that will be reflected in the decor. I expect to be occupied until around midday, at the earliest. Our guests will be arriving within a matter of weeks and everything must be ready. You'll need to spend the day in the ware houses, wont you?" "Yes, Sir. Will that be all, Sir?" not a hint of emotion was betrayed in gray eyes or voice. //Why has Milliardo not sent an alarm? I told him I would be waiting for him. Surely he did not throw away the transmitter? He would have kept it safe from the ESUN when he was confined on Mars. Why has he not activated the transmitter? The homing device at the very least. I'll tan his lovely hide if he has thrown away that link with me. I should have tried his patience and had him injected with that tracing device, but angering him in that manner is not the way I wished our relationship to start. // "No. Where did you put my pants?"
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