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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 63 Mars Colony Base Dome Date: 1st March AC 198 Time: 19:32 MST [17:22 Sanc time] Zechs The dome was quiet around them, only the rustle of movement as they filled in the hole broke the quiet. For the moment he could not even hear the faintest sounds of others, though he knew they were far from alone in the dome. People worked out there, unaware of the death stalking them. “What do we do now?” Zechs glanced at Giles, carefully separating the wires that had connected the radio to the transmitter as he did so. He had done what he could with the radio, piggy backing the radio signal on the transmitter signal. That signal really was nothing more than an emergency pulse, constantly sending out a signal that screamed 'here I am', allowing anyone with the correct frequency and equipment to locate the wearer. He had initially refused to take the device, but Raydon could be a persuasive devil and he had won that round. When Raydon had allowed him to leave Station One he knew it was because the man had wanted him to realize that there was no place for him in the Earth Sphere. He had thought only of going and putting an end to the threat to the peace he had fought so hard to achieve, and Raydon had known that. The man had allowed it, though he might well have refused to allow him to leave and told him in no uncertain terms that when he was ready Station One would be there. Raydon had wanted him to choose to call that marvel of modern engineering home. ********************************** “I know that you are only new to Station, but I think you can see the potential that exists here. Things are still pretty new, but give us a couple of years and we will be as established as any colony in the hub. We will have all the luxuries that they have there, if not a few they do not have access to.” Raydon's suite of rooms were newly completed, decorated in a style that he remembered from his childhood before he lost his home and his life as the Prince of Sanc. Yet it brought those memories to the surface. Memories he thought he had forgotten. Rich crimson with gold and cream highlights. Yet the decor suited the man who sat across from him. He belonged in these surroundings. “I do not doubt that Station could become more than the colonies have been allowed to be. With peace there will be an improvement in investment and exploration deeper into space.” “Yes, there will be expansion. I expect that. We are, in fact, relying on it, but we know it will take time.” “You know this Dekim Barton, don't you?” He needed answers and he needed to know that Raydon would not change his mind and confine him to Station. Raydon had sighed, nodded and swirled his wine in the crystal goblet, tilting his head back in a manner Zechs found strangely reminiscent of Treize Kushrenada. Perhaps all wine connoisseurs had that aloof manner as they studied the vintage. In fact, in many subtle ways Raydon reminded him of his friend. They shared that same sense of style, he supposed. “Unfortunately, yes, I do. He's a manipulative, pushy, and nasty piece of work that one. He has plans, and I do not see him settling for just taking over Earth. That one will not be content with less than complete power.” “Then you understand why I wish to return. Why I have to return.” “No, Milliardo, I do not understand why it has to be you who oppose him. You have done your part. Have you not done enough for them? You have lost everything that ever meant anything to you to give them their chance at peace. Why should it be you? There are others capable of defending Earth and the Colonies. Had you truly died in the explosion of the Libra, you would not be here now, talking about going back into the fight. Why go back for more?” “I have to. I feel it. Yes, there are others capable of defending the Earth, but I … Raydon, please. I feel it in my very bones.” He ached with the certainty that Barton would disrupt the peace and the terrible visions that he had fought so hard to deny would return. The wars would come and with them the death toll that had so terrified him. He had known that he must stop the wars from starting, and that meant containing Dekim Barton. “Yet you say you have experienced no visions about this invasion. I understand visions, Milliardo. I have told you of the Gifted, and you have met one or two, though you likely were too ill to note them at the time. I was planning to introduce you to more in the coming weeks, as you gained strength. Milliardo, I want to understand why you feel so strongly that it must be you who returns to fight. What about the much lauded Gundam pilots? They are capable of defending the Earth and Colonies. You still are not fully recovered from your injuries.” “I can complete my recovery during the return flight.” A sigh, deep and tired sounding. “True, you can. There will certainly be adequate time for that, and for you to train and hone your skills. You have been here little more than two weeks and even with the fastest of my ships you would not return to Earth until near Christmas. The only bonus to your flight would be the orbital position of Earth in relation to Station One at this time, reducing flight time to five months and so many days.” he held up a hand, forestalling the response. “I know, I have already agreed to see that you return with all speed to Earth. I will not change my mind at this time. All I ask is that while you are away, you give some thought to your future.” “You wish me to remain here, on Station One.” A statement, not a question. “I wish for you to give thought to returning to Station One and making it your home. We are always in need of pilots, my friend. With your experience there are a multitude of positions you are more than capable of filling.” He ran a finger lightly over the rim of his own crystal goblet, absently noting that the place setting at this private dinner was worthy of his fathers court. “That is not the only reason you want me to return. Is it?” the last a whisper, trying to keep the unease out of his voice. Warm fingers, calloused skimmed over his hand, lightly, a fleeting caress. It was the first time that evening that Raydon had touched him. He felt as though a mild electric charge had run through him. “No. It is not the only reason. I have more personal, selfish reasons for wanting you to return. I make no secret of my regard for you. I would get to know you in far more intimate ways, but I am a patient man, Milliardo, and I can wait. I can wait for you to make the decision for yourself. When you choose to return to Station One I know it will be because you know where you no longer belong. Because you will know that you must start a new life. A life that will not throw your life into the breach so that others may know peace. You deserve peace, Milliardo. You deserve that same peace that you sought to give to the Earth Sphere.” “If I choose not to return?” he dared not raise his gaze from where that hand lightly rested over his won. “I can only hope that you choose to come to Station One, for your own reasons, and that you will permit me the pleasure of courting you.” ********************** Did he have a choice now? He had sent the signal, not because he wanted to return to the station to start a life of his own, but because these people needed help. He needed help. He could be honest about it. Yes, he needed help, and he needed it now, not in months time, but he could only do the best he could. Raydon had ships everywhere, and if one or two were in the area, then they might be in time to offer some assistance to the colony. He could use the transmitter to call for help for the terra formers, but to use it for himself … did he want to call Station One home? Of that he just was not sure. Giles was kneeling beside him, eyes scanning the area for any sign that they were to have company. He was, in truth, surprised that they had not been disturbed before this. The message he had sent, while brief, was to the point and he only hoped it would bare fruit. He would have to leave the matter now to fates hands and concentrate on the here and now. If he thought about it though, realistically, what could Raydon do? // God, no. No, I won't fall into that. That would cause a return of the visions. I can't take another bout of intense visions. I can only hope that Raydon might think of something that will help. For now I need to concentrate on the here and now. I can not do this on my own, and I can be honest about it. I am hurt and I am tired and I am so close to making stupid mistakes because of my exhaustion. I have to trust someone and for now that someone has to be Giles. I have to trust that Raydon can think of something that will halt the massacre beyond what it is already, without ruining their chances for independent recognition. I have to trust that he will get the message and be capable of acting. I have to trust that he cared enough to take my children if it comes to that. Think, man. You have sent a message. Now you have to stay alive and keep as many people alive as you can. While you wait to see who arrives first.// “You talk to the people in the dome. Here, in Hydroponics Dome One. We have to try to warn them about the sleeper agents. We owe it to them to tell them the truth. I am inclined to believe, as they have not yet been attacked here, that there are no sleepers here. We may have taken out the last of them assigned to eliminate the workers in these domes. If you can convince these people to go to ground, then they may stay alive long enough for some form of rescue to become effective.” “Me?” it came out almost as a squeak and he spun to face Zechs, looking his disbelief. “Have you lost your mind? They will never listen to me. I'm a grunt.” Zechs arched an eyebrow. “Well, technically so are they. So am I, for that matter.” Giles snorted. “You'll never be a grunt. Look, Your Highness …” at the glare that received he grinned, totally unrepentant. “You heard that conversation earlier, same as I did. You're not considered a grunt. That should have shown you clearly enough that you are still considered to be His Royal Highness, Prince Milliardo Peacecraft of Sanc. We are going to need to use that if we are to have any hope of convincing them to go to ground. If they sealed this dome they should be safe enough for now.” he paused, grin slowly fading as he watched the slow shake of the platinum crowned head. “Why are you shaking your head?” Zechs sighed. “Giles, have you truly forgotten that I am considered to be a raving lunatic?, Remember, I am the unhinged madman who threatened to blow up the Earth. I fired the Libra's canon at the Earth. I threatened to drop the Libra on the damn planet.” he shook his head, shrugging broad shoulders slightly and wincing at the pain that cause. “I'm known to be mentally unstable and it's thought I came here unwillingly, a prisoner of the ESUN. Now do you honestly think they will believe me when I tell them that the ESUN has agents here who are running around killing them, just because they had the misfortune to be here when it was decided I was to be moved? That's what its all about, you know, Giles. This whole debacle is because I am on Mars and I had children. I know things that certain people do not want the rest of the world to know. Where once I was to be killed because of that knowledge, they realized that I had other uses. If they use me, control me, then it means that they control Relena. Keeping my children out of my control gives them leverage over both myself and my sister. It also gives certain others the opportunity to train my children to be of use as they grow up. If you have the misfortune to be born a Peacecraft, Haydon Giles, then you are nothing but a tool for others to wield. You learn that very quickly.” “You never had a happy childhood, did you?” At the astonished blink that produced Giles chuckled and shook his head. “Sorry. Sorry, that was not called for and I do apologize. When Raydon ordered me to guard your back I did some home work and I learned about the fall of Sanc. Guess you had cause to go a little off the deep end there at the end. Not that I really understand any of what that entire war was about, mind you. I still don't understand all the factions and their beliefs in what they were fighting for. All I know is that the end result produced a peace I thought we were never going to get.” he met the intense blue eyes, his own thoughtful. “You meant for that to happen, didn't you? For there to be peace after that fight above Earth. The thing that struck me about that whole final battle was that in one single battle most of the weapons and mobile suits on Earth, and in the Colonies, were wiped out. I always thought it odd that so many mobile suits were destroyed, but not so many of the people piloting them died. It is my understanding that Mobile Dolls are very precise, very fast and do exactly what they are programmed to do. Most human pilots have no chance against them.” he paused and then shrugged, locking his gaze with the ice blue glare that pierced him. “So why did so many of the pilots survive?” “This is not the time, Giles.” a whisper. Too many memories he did not wish to entertain. Too many memories of a time he wanted desperately to leave behind him. He wanted to be free of the past, but it would never leave him. He could almost wish that he could believe Raydon when he said he could start again. Damn the man for stirring up memories of times he ached to forget. Memories of when he chose to kill any chance he might have for a life that one might, by the smallest of measures, be termed normal. “Don't know if there is a better time, in all honesty.” “Giles!” a low warning. A growl that held all the anger building within him over his inability to control events. Noin. Now the massacre of the people. The Wellington speeding on its way to Mars. It was all spiraling out of control and he just could not allow that to happen. “Look, we have to get this straight. You and I have to have an understanding so we can trust each other. Did you or did you not intend to blow away the Earth?” his hazel eyes were intense, fastened onto the blonde, compelling. Demanding he be answered, and answered truthfully. //Damn it, man! This is neither the time nor place for this. We can not stay here any longer. Events are moving and we can not afford to be caught because we are arguing over old news. Besides, there is no way that I can be honest with you. I need your cooperation and I will not have it if I tell you the truth.// “If it had been necessary … Yes.” //Damn! I never meant to say that. What …? Why did I say that?// Intense eyes somewhere between green and brown looked into his, filling his vision, delving into his soul. Touching him in a place that for too long had wept in despair of ever having been understood. No one had ever understood that he sought peace in all that he did. No one could understand the lengths he had been driven to or why. He barely understood it himself. “Did you go into the White Fang intending to destroy the Earth? If it was necessary?” “Yes.” a whisper, reluctant, dragged from the depths of his soul. “If it was necessary.” //Shit! What is … Ah, God. Raydon, you bastard. You don't just send anyone to do your negotiating, do you?// He could see the panic building in the pale blue eyes. “Did you want to destroy the Earth?” “No.” a whisper. “Why? Why did you do it? Was it because you wanted to destroy the Earth to make everyone pay? Was it because you wanted to punish the world for the loss of everything that ever meant anything to you?” “No. No, not … to punish. No.” he could not do this. He did not want to do this and he would not! Damn Raydon and his schemes. //Oh God. What … is he … doing to … me? Stop it. Just get out of my head.// “Why did you do it?” soft voice, sliding around and through him, oozing past defenses to make him voice words he desperately wanted to keep hidden. “Did you want to destroy the planet? Kill the people? Did you want to do it?” “No.” forced out beyond gritted teeth. He would not do this. He would not drag it all out now. There was no time. This was neither the time nor the place for this to be delved into. He would not submit to this coercion. He could never forget the decisions he had made, but he did not have to drag them out to be aired in public just because this bastard decided now was a good time. He would get beyond the influence of those compelling eyes. He would not be forced by anyone to relive the horror he had had to go through. It was past and he would not relive it again. “Giles. Stop it. Just … stop it.” he held out a hand, a symbol of the distress he could not deal with now. To his shame and further distress his hand was shaking. He could not do this. Not in this time. Not in this place. “Just… leave … it … alone …” “Leave it alone? Why should I, Your Highness? We need to understand each other, you and I. We need to trust each other. I am here to guard your back and for me to do that properly you need to know you can turn your back on me. I need to know the same thing about you. When will you be honest with me?” He envisioned a wall, tall, thick, strong, impenetrable. A wall, brick … no, metal. Gundanium was next to unbreakable. A gundanium wall surrounding his mind, protecting him. It stood between him and those all seeing eyes that were now brown, now green, now somewhere some in between the two. Slowly, steadily, as his wall became clearer, it became easier to think. “You're one of the Gifted, aren't you? Your one of Raydon's Psychics.” a whisper, more and more he was able to return to the world around him. Wall. There was a wall between them. A wall that was tall and strong and surrounding him. Haydon Giles blinked, nodding and the intensity eased in his eyes. He shuddered, the compelling, demanding light eased and he sighed, turning his gaze to the dome interior, scanning for any sign of intruders on their little drama. He needed a little time yet before they moved on. He and Raydon's Prince needed to fully understand each other. To work together they were going to have to be honest with each other about their abilities. “I have some small abilities, yes. I'm thinking that my small abilities are nothing like yours, though. Oh, yes, I can sense it, the differences in you. When we, the Gifted as we are termed there, go to Station One Raydon arranges for us to have training. There are quite a few of us there now, and we learn from each other. Once we have some training we tend to be able to spot others with the same stamp. You feel like a precog of some type, but you feel different.” hazel eyes stared at him for a long moment, measuring, assessing. “I have never felt anyone quite like you before, though. It's different. I'm something of a telepath, but I have more of a suggestive ability than straight telepathy. For example, I can't actually read a person's thoughts, but I can, sometimes, affect how a person reacts to questioning. Hell, I know that's not a very good explanation, but just now I needed to give you an example of what I can do if I concentrate hard. We have to trust each other. That's the first thing we are taught in training. Trust. You need training, Your Highness. I think you need it bad. You do have natural defenses and now that you have been alerted to what I can do, I very much doubt I could get through to you again. I can almost see that wall you pictured, and since I normally can't read thoughts, it's a pretty intense wall you have pictured. I wanted you to tell the truth, not dance around the subject or tell an outright lie to get me moving.” //Raydon and his bloody machinations. How do I trust anyone? It's been so long since I dared trust anyone but myself. I … I don't even trust myself. I can't …// “What were you really doing on Mars?” God. His voice did not sound like his own. He was afraid. Very much afraid of this unknown element that had entered the drama. Giles as one of the Gifted was an unknown element. One he did not know how to deal with. “Exactly what I told you.” he leaned against the wall of the maintenance shed and shrugged. “Checking out the trade potential of a market with Mars Colony. No negotiations or anything of that nature were to be entered into at this time. That's a long way off at this stage of things, but Raydon and the Council needed to know the potential for trade and what we could best offer the colony and they us. I don't often need to use my abilities and as I said, they're not exactly reliable. Sometimes I can't get a thing and some people have natural shields I just can't penetrate. A very independent, strong-willed individual is proof against me. I'm pretty hopeless at influencing them. I only got through to you because you were distracted. I had tried once or twice before, but that was the first time I succeeded.” “Your partner? What about him?” //God. Are there two of them? One is bad enough to deal with. What do I do with two of them?// “Not a psychic, to my knowledge. I don't read him as one, at any rate, but then, I can't read everyone. Like I said, I'm not very powerful, just enough to get by. I have my uses, and one thing you can be sure of is that Raydon always makes good use of everyone's abilities.” If he had the time he would be asking some serious questions about Raydon and his Gifted. He was not a tool, not even for Raydon, and he would be damned if he would be treated as one any longer. It seemed that he had always been a tool of one sort or another, different hands guiding his use, and he had had enough. Neither he nor his children would be used for either their bloodlines or their abilities. He had been used enough. “We do not have the time to pursue this now. There are more important things to do. If you are a … Suggester? … then you can use that ability to influence the people in this dome and get them to make themselves scarce and secure this area.” Giles shook his head slowly, waving a hand in the air. “You did not hear me, did you? I can't make it work very well. I'm not very powerful. One, maybe two people, yes, I might have a chance of influencing the way they think, but a group? No way, Your Highness. No way can I influence that many.” He glared out into the dome, knowing that they already had wasted too much time. “I am not suggesting that you influence a group. Most people in this dome work in pairs, sectioning the entire dome. At most there should be ten to twelve people in the dome at this time of the year. If they are working in pairs, as they normally do, then you can work on them. We will not know until we actually go in and find them just how many there are, will we? You will need to work quickly, too. The maintenance crews working outside the dome will be in shortly, and if we do not do something they will be gassed in the air locks.” Giles felt his eyes widen and he straightened quickly, pushing away from the wall. “Gassed?” He shivered, forcing the onrush of vision down. No. Not now. Whether it was memory of visions he had already witnessed or a new upsurge of possibilities it did not matter. Not now. He could not afford to lose control again. He and Giles must trust each other, must they? That was what that little demonstration was about. Well, to work efficiently then, yes, they should. He would see just how much trust Giles could put in him then. Likely he would be accounted a raving loony by this man in the next few seconds, but if Giles wanted the truth, he would give it to him. //Trust? Very well then. Let us see just how well you trust me. Can you accept what I say?// “They will enter the air locks in the usual manner, twenty to a unit. While they are in there, a poisonous gas, odorless and very quick acting, will be released into their sealed air supply and they will die. Twenty at a time, they will die. The air locks will be emptied quickly and efficiently of bodies and the next group will enter, unknowing of what awaits them and they will be killed as they take their turn to enter and strip off their suits. After working twelve hour shifts they will be only too happy to get out of those suits, and by the time they start to notice something is wrong, it will already be too late. Most won't even notice the air quality after being low on oxygen . You know how some make a habit of running their tanks dangerously low.” “Shit.” a whisper, hazel eyes widened, staring at him. “What can we do? How do you know … sorry. You're a precog. I know enough about precogs to know that I have to trust your talent. Okay, I'll try talking with the people in the dome, but we don't have long. The shift should be due to come in within the hour.” //* “You're a precog. I know enough about precogs to know that I have to trust your talent.”*// he stared at the smaller man, stunned. //That's it? That's all he's going to say? I … He … God, he is going to … accept it?// “We do the best we can, Giles. That is all we can do. I was hoping …” he hesitated. Sighed. He was not used to the idea that someone might actually believe him. He was not used to talking to people about this ability that haunted him. They thought him to be insane. A nut case. That there might be acceptance out there for him had never really registered before. “Come on, man. Out with it. I can't help if I don't know what to expect. I know you don't know me from a bar of soap, but I was sent here by Raydon. I am one of his Gifted, if a very minor one, and I have shown you what I can do. I underwent the training program they have on Station One and learned that it does help. It helps you develop control and a better acceptance of your own abilities. You'll find a lot more confidence in yourself when you go through it.” //I don't … He believes me? He's … he's not … looking at me as though … as though I'm a nutcase. I have to get past this. There are people dying and I have to get past this to help them. Maybe … maybe I should go to Station. Maybe there is a place for me there.// “There is the possibility that we can do nothing for them. That everyone out there will die. There is the possibility that we can save maybe, twenty, by working on the airlocks. No more than twenty before we are discovered and have to leave the rest to their fate. And there is the possibility that if we initiate the lockdown of the airlocks, sealing them outside the dome, that the Preventer Agents from Alpha dome may be able to get the Taurus suits to fly and bring in oxygen, heat packs and food for them. They will have a thoroughly miserable night in the caves, but only twenty or so will die.” //Now let us see how accepting you are, Haydon Giles. What do you make of that?// Giles stared at him, considering the phrasing of what
he had just heard. The key words that seemed to stick was 'there is
the possibility'. “Possibility?” a whisper. “The way
you say // He picked up on that well enough. Now let's see what happens next.// “I don't see one vision of an event, Giles. I see the What Ifs that people always say you should not count. I see multiple options of an event and the consequences that come from each possibility that might be taken from that event.” Giles blinked, considering that and pursed his lips. “So … If we go to the airlocks…?” “I don't know, Giles. I don't know what is the best option to take. If we do nothing for them, then they all die, as they come into what they consider to be a safe haven from the Martian night. If we go to the airlocks, we will save twenty people. No more. I don't know how the others will die, that I have not seen. I only know that they do not survive. Sealing them out of the dome will either kill all of them because Barker fails to get the idea of the Taurus suits working, or they lose up to twenty or so men by spending the night in the caves. If we can seal them out and manage to regain control of the dome within a few hours, their chances of survival are much improved, as we can call them back into the dome.” //Oh, my God. What ifs indeed. Oh, you poor bastard. I've seen precogs break apart in front of me because of what they see. How do you cope with the uncertainty of it? No wonder people say you're nuts. No wonder you have kept this to yourself.// “Well, we can decide while we cross the dome. We can talk about it as we go. Which could be the better options of those available to us .” Giles glanced around and shrugged, motioning towards their right. “That way is as good as any. Could you tell me one thing?” Stunned he stared at the man, wondering if this all was a dream. //He's just going to … accept it? I .. I don't …understand. Maybe … maybe I should go to Station One. If there are others there … Others like me? Are there others like me there? Could I find people who don't consider me crazed there? Was Raydon offering me more than I realized?// “That depends. What is it you want to know?” Giles considered the man for a long moment and then led the way from their hiding place. He was curious, now. He had been curious before, ever since he had recognized Zechs when he had first arrived on Mars, but now it went beyond just curiosity. He really could not live with himself if he did not ask the question, but how his voicing that question would be received, that remained to be seen. “What did you see would happen if you did not take command of the White Fang and fight that battle over Earth?” The silence was heavy and he frowned, expecting to find himself in a strangle hold or have a knife to his throat for his audacity. Finally, looking back when he thought he would get no answer, he gasped, turning quickly and making his way back to the man who stood frozen to the spot. To his horror he found Zechs was shaking, deep racking shudders and he wept, silently. Tears rolled over ashen cheeks from blue eyes wide with horrors that he could not see. “Your Highness?” a whisper. He lightly touched one arm, noting the chill of flesh and the tremors that seemed to threaten to shake the man apart. He was ice cold to touch. “Three hundred years of war, Giles. Three hundred years of killing. Generation after generation. Dying. Families fighting against their own kin. Brother fighting brother. Never peace. Never so much as a weeks worth of peace being offered for parties to talk. Always war. Just killing. Children rotting in the streets while the buildings around them burn. So much blood. So much death. Never ending killing. A Dark Age that would see the murder of billions.”
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