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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 71 Mars Colony Base Dome Time: 20:16 [Approx Sanc time: 18:06] Zechs //That he has his moments I can not deny nor can I doubt that his abilities definitely have uses. I knew that there were different abilities amid those Raydon termed the Gifted, but … I never really got the chance to learn about them. I was not on Station One long enough to learn much or meet many people. My fault, I know, because Raydon respected my wish to remain secluded. He rarely spoke of the Gifted on the flight to the station and once there I just wanted to hide. To hide my shame at surviving. Stupid really.// Ice blue eyes scanned their surroundings, watchful for any indication of approaching company. Giles and two women were talking in hushed tones a few meters from him, heads bent close together with no small amount of head shakes and nods. Even as he watched one of the women shook her head in adamant denial and Giles seemed to sigh, glancing over to where Zechs waited before turning again to the women, a determined glint in his eyes. //It has to be a strain for him, but there is no help for it. We can only do the best that we can and if they do not believe the danger exists then there is no help for it. It is for their own protection, so why do I feel such guilt? I chanced the destruction of a habitable planet's environment to bring about peace. Why do I balk at forcing one or two people to believe that their lives are in danger? It seems such a violation. Time is moving and there is much to do. We dare not linger much longer.// He had ensured that the storage and work building that linked domes one and two was secured against easy entry from dome two. No one would slip easily and silently between the two in a bid to surprise the people they secured here. He had also locked the main entry hatch to dome one. If those who had believed them wished to remain secure they would keep both entrances to the dome locked after he and Giles left them. “Your Highness?” He flicked his gaze to the short, delicate woman who approached him. She was a horticulturalist who had had much success with hybrid plants designed for the conditions of Mars, a specialist with the heart of an adventurer. He had had previous occasion to speak with her, and had found her to be accepting of his presence. Of course, many of the Terra Formers had been on Mars during the One Year War and the incident with the Libra was not as real to them as it was to those who had been closer in to the hub of the Earth Sphere. Those who had lived and worked on Mars during that turbulent time were the ones who had accepted his presence with the least difficulty. “Yes, Elizabeth?” “I have listened to Haydon and I agree that we appear to be in danger. I was wondering what you think of this business? You have said nothing, just stood back and listened to him as he speaks, but you have said nothing about what is happening. Why?” He glanced over the small gathering of people they had brought together in groups of one or two. Never more than two at a time as Giles was adamant that he would have no chance of working effectively with more. He had to trust that Giles knew his own abilities and thus far, while some quick talking and what Giles termed 'leaning' had been necessary, they had succeeded. He had stayed entirely out of the conversations that had taken place, only too aware that most were wary of his reputation. “It is my role to stand watch and make certain that you are not disturbed while Giles explains to you what is happening. This is not something that has been made up for a sick laugh, Elizabeth. We are serious about the warning we are giving. There are people out in the dome who are killing your fellow workers.” A soft sigh through slightly parted, pert lips and her brown eyes stared intently into his before she lowered her head. “You are serious. It … It's just that it seems so hard to believe that there are people here who are killers. I left Earth and the colonies behind me because I wanted the chance to create something untouched by the blood and the fear. I did not like what I was seeing all about me, so I accepted the post and came to Mars, where that fresh start on bloodless soil was possible. Now … Well, if I am to be honest, then I suppose that Raiders would make more sense to me than the ESUN killing us off one by one. I could understand Raiders doing it, but not the ESUN.” “Sometimes those we think are friends are not what they appear to be.” //That's the problem. They can all see it happening if it were Raiders doing the killing, but they all balk at the identity of the killers. Even showing them the bodies in Dome Two can not prove who the killers were. They only have our word that it is the government supposed to be responsible for protecting them that is betraying their trust.// He watched the restless stir amid the six others who stood behind her, listening to every word they said. Giles had worked his charm and abilities well, convincing these seven of the need to band together and guard each others backs. Some had taken longer to convince than others and due to times constraints he and Giles had decided they could spend no longer than five minutes on each attempt. Five minutes for each person could place them all in serious danger, but they had to allow for it and pray that they did not run out of time and into deeper trouble. He knew deep in his bones that time was running out. While Giles had worked on the people they discovered in the dome he had been thankful for the opportunity to rest. It was Giles who carried the weight of these encounters, leaving him to stand or sit if the occasion allowed it, and give his abused body the chance to recover while keeping watch on all approaches to their location. When they had convinced their first pair of workers of the seriousness of the situation it had become necessary for him to keep a watch on them in turn. He would turn his back on no one. Not even those who professed to be convinced of the need to hide, if not the identity of the attackers. He and his partner had debated the wisdom of convincing those whom they sought to warn of the identity of the attackers being Raiders, but they had decided against such measures. They deserved the truth now that he knew that no matter what happened, the ESUN would not allow the population here to survive. They deserved to know who it was that was killing them. Besides, he was still hopeful that Raydon might come through for them and he would not have their rescuers blamed for this atrocity. They stood about in a loose cluster, watching and listening to Giles as he argued with the two women. Amid their number were two men who deeply unsettled him, not for any suspected ties with the Sleepers, but because of that overheard conversation. They made him uncomfortable in a way he had never been before. They had made him think about questions of his own sexuality and needs. Questions about what he actually wanted to happen in his life should he somehow survive this trap. Questions he had not had the courage to ask himself before. He had felt himself to be on borrowed time. As though his life was not his own, but on loan from someone else and for purposes he could not name. He should have died and he had no goals set for a life after the Libra. He had been living in a limbo and that could not go on. There was Noin to be considered. He loved her. He really did love her, but certainly not as all consuming as she seemed to love him. Something more than friends, yes, but he did not wish to marry her. There were his children to be considered. He loved his children with all his heart and soul and he would do anything to keep them safe. They did not deserve to have him for a father and all of the grief that that would bring to them. There was Raydon waiting in the wings. Raydon had made no pretense about being interested in him, the man's intentions being made clear even before he was well enough to leave the bed where he had woken from a coma. There was Raydon and there was what the man could offer him beyond the implied partnership that equated to a marriage he did not wish for at this time. The Gifted had frightened him before, with the very mystery that surrounded them. Giles was no Ogre. Giles was no dark sorcerer from mythology there to strip your soul away and make you into something you were not. He promised that the Gifted were accepting of others who were considered freaks and insane monsters by the ignorant. Giles and Raydon before him had offered him a place amid the Gifted. There were options open to him. A chance at a future beyond huddling amid his fear and distress at simply being alive. Chances. Somehow that was more frightening than believing that there was no other place for him. Before he could decide his own fate there was still the matter of the here and now to be faced. What was to become of these people? If Raydon did manage to perform a miracle and somehow saved the population of Mars Base, then what were they to do with more than two thousand people? Leaving them defenseless on Mars was simply not an option as the ESUN could still return and wipe them out at a later date. The families of those who survived this massacre living in distant cities and colonies could be held to ransom to keep the population quiet. Threats to their families accompanied by a death or two would convince the survivors that the government was serious, but those behind this atrocity would not long allow anyone who knew the truth to live. Eventually the ESUN would wipe them all out. Slowly, one by one in a series of accidents, some unexplained murders perhaps, even malfunctioning equipment could be blamed. In dozens of different ways it would happen. They would die just to preserve the sick little secret of the extent that certain people in power were willing to go to, to have things their way. How was he to see that they had a chance? It was his responsibility because he did not die when he should have. His responsibility because he had come to Mars instead of fleeing the Preventers when he had the chance. He had been exhausted, but that was no excuse when he looked around him and saw the faces of those who were made into victims because he had survived. What more did he need to do to give them the opportunity to be free of that bloody, hopeless future? “Your Highness? Is this place secure?” He dragged his wandering thoughts back to the present, blue eyes sweeping the area for danger, recalled to his duty to guard his partners back. He was tired now, but there was no opportunity to rest and it was no excuse for endangering lives. Too much needed doing. First he needed to see that as many as possible survived before worrying about days that might never come. He absently noted that Giles appeared to have made a breakthrough with the two women, as they had moved to join them and he had a circle of people surrounding him, all watching him and expecting him to come up with answers. How was he supposed to do that? He knew more than they did, yes, but he did not know the answers to the questions they had been asking. “Keep a guard on both doors after we leave. Lock the dome down and make yourselves as secure a place as possible to hide. Try not to make it too obvious, but make it as defensible as you can. It might be best for you to get into the roof of the dome and make yourselves scarce up there. It has certain advantages. If you do that, take what food and water you can and lie low. Set watches and be aware of anyone who turns up. There can not be too many Sleepers left, but the fact remains that it is doubtful that we have them all, and there are still the paramilitary agents to be considered. They will take you down without thinking twice.” “What will you and Giles be doing?” His eyes flicked to the man who was glancing from him and up, into the overhead network of pipes and catwalks. It was obvious that he was considering the merits of the higher option and Zechs hoped he was not blushing. It was the man who had made it clear to his friend that he would like to get his hands … //No! Do not go there.// “There are people working outside of the domes protection. We need to check the airlocks to see if they have been sabotaged and if there is anything we can do for them. Then there are the agents to be chased down.” “How will we know if it is safe to leave the dome?” Elizabeth too was gazing up into the scaffolding and pipes, weighing options. “I could say that Giles or I will come for you, but there is no guarantee that we will be able to do that.” a low sigh. “It might be best for you to plan on spending the night here.” Giles spoke up. “In the morning you could …” he sighed, uncertain. “Look, truth is that there is no guarantee that we can have this matter dealt with at all, or that we might win what is to come. We just do not know when or if it will be safe.” “How long before this ship you spoke of, the Wellington, arrives?” Elizabeth turned from her survey of the scaffolding to look expectantly at Giles. “Most likely two days. I would think that we have at least forty hours. Without access to a computer I can give no accurate times. Our source was not certain of the time scale involved. Just that within three days everyone here has to be dead.” Giles stirred. “Given that, we project that within forty hours the Wellington should turn up. We need to go. Others are dying and we need to do what we can to help.” “Well … Can we help you? I'm not a trained fighter. I was never a soldier, but I can hold my own in a bar room brawl.” Brian Lancey was a big bluff man, dark-haired and usually soft spoken. Just now he looked his confusion, but there was a glint of determination and fire in his dark eyes that promised someone would hurt if he could get his hands on them. “You would be best to set up defenses here and keep at least these people safe from what is to come. As safe as possible. I would advise going up, into the scaffolding and pipes. Make as secure a position up there as you can, and set watches.” Zechs stirred, standing from where he had been sitting on the edge of a crate and looking into the overhead maze of pipes. “It's possible to hide relatively well up there and if anyone gets through either entrance to the dome, you really only need cover the access ladders to keep everyone secured.” “Weapons?” Lancey queried. “What ever you can find will have to do. Hopefully you will encounter no difficulties. There can't be a lot of these agents left, so just stay quiet and stay low. That is the key to surviving this mess.” Giles responded, moving to flank Zechs. “Okay, man. Well, we know what to expect. Trouble with a capital T. Go. We have held you up too long and others will be paying for the delay. By morning we will have worked out something. There are food dispensers in the maintenance building so we will raid those now, then we can take what we need for the night up with us.” “Do that and do not come down unless you absolutely have to.” ----------------- Time: 20:26 [Approx Sanc time 18:16] Zechs It was just too quiet under the dome. The hairs at the back of his neck prickled, rising in warning, setting his limbs to a subtle trembling. He had a very bad feeling about this and he crouched low, motioning Giles to remain under cover. Bulking huge at their backs lay Hydroponics Dome One and ahead of them and to their left, built into the outer dome itself, were the air locks. All of the airlocks were built along similar lines, varying only in size. Each was entered first by entering the change room which housed lockers that stored personal effects not required during work hours beyond the dome. A wheel locked door would lead from the changing room to the inner room where a control panel monitored the airlock itself. A larger wheel lock and electronically sealed door isolated the actual airlock from the dome. Before entering the airlock one had to seal the inner door or the electronic lock would not deactivate. It was just one of the safety features required with the use of the airlock system in a secured dome habitat. Airlock One was the largest of the three locks used for moving people between the dome and the surface of the planet. The secured area could hold no more that twenty people at one time, while airlock two was used for smaller parties of from six to ten people. Airlock three was for the use of from one to five people venturing out into the Martian wilds and airlock four was the massive lock system where the mobile suits and heavy machinery required to tame this unforgiving planet entered and exited the dome. The cycling of the system took all of five minutes for air lock three from the moment one entered the lock to the time they stepped out onto the surface of the planet, with proportionately longer periods required for the larger locks. For airlock two it would take approximately seven minutes and up to ten minutes for air lock one to cycle oxygen in and out of the locks. The big lock from which they used their machinery would take upwards of fifteen minutes to cycle the air and run decontamination systems. For safety reasons every person on the planet had a personal envirosuit which was stored in the maintenance and decontamination building almost directly opposite the secured location where Zechs and Giles now crouched. Within the confines of the building suits were maintained and prior to exiting the dome they were collected by the owner who was responsible for checking their systems had no obvious faults by running basic diagnostics. From the collection building they would make their way to the appropriately sized airlock required to take a party out onto the surface of the planet as economically as possible. There could be no needless waist on Mars and everyone was trained to make economical use of all facilities, especially the vital oxygen supply that meant life to the terra formers. The more he looked at the buildings around him the more hesitant Zechs was. Across from him was the Enviro Suit Storage and Maintenance facility, where the suits were maintained and stored for use. Behind him rose the bulk of Hydroponics Dome One and the group of nine terra formers they had convinced to lie low. To their left, across a broad open area was the big air lock four and further around the dome, out of their immediate sight, was the big elevators they used to transport the mobile suits and heavy machinery between the upper dome and the sub base. Beyond the big airlock lay locks one to three, ending with the control station where the master control systems for the airlocks was maintained. There was an awful lot of open space between dome one and the control building and a lot of places for an assassin to ambush unsuspecting prey. “We have to get to the control building, don't we? The interior lock controls just will not allow for what we may need to do.” Giles chewed absently at his lower lip as he eyed the distances involved, contemplating the best route to take. “Damn, man, I am not an Olympic sprinter and that is more of a marathon distance than a sprint, anyway.” “I know. It's suicide to just walk out there. I can feel it.” Giles head snapped around to face Zechs, eyes widening. “Are you experiencing a vision?” He almost laughed, grateful that Giles had not seen what those visions entailed. “No. I'm blocking that with every ounce of energy I can spare. If I had another one Giles, and it was a major one, then I'd be out of the picture for hours. I've over-extended my resources with visions. One more and I am out for the count.” “Damn emergency lights.” Giles muttered, glancing up at the massive dome above them where the red lights lent the dome the air of blood surrounding them. “You okay? I don't know a lot about precogs, but I do know that sometimes it can be a bad thing to resist a vision.” Zechs glared at the man, shaking his head slowly, almost panicked by the thought. “Don't tell me that. I can not afford to let down my guard. I'd go down, Giles. I have no more reserves left. I have to end this as quickly as I can and it keeps pushing at me, but I just can not allow it to rule me.” A quiet sigh was the response and the man nodded slowly. “What do you suggest?” //He really needs to be under the care of the Trainers on Station One. God, the man will end up a fruitcake if he does not learn how to manage what is essentially a wild talent and a vicious one too.// “The only thing we can do is use the available cover and make our way to the control room. We use the parked machinery for cover and then cross to the Suit Maintenance building, work our way around that and to the next bay of machinery then make a run for the airlock control station. Do you know how many people should be in the suit maintenance building?” “I have been in there.” Giles responded. “At the height of activity there should be around fifteen people getting the suits needed for the next days roster ready. At this time of the day, with suits due in, there would be around twenty people, I guess. They would be due to turn up in the next …” he glanced at his time piece and shrugged. “Thirty minutes or so, I'd say. If the shift is on time, then they will start coming into the airlocks in about forty minutes. For a big maintenance session like this, requiring so many people, they would be using all four locks in a rotation sequence, each lock allowed about a fifty percent cycle before the next lock would be activated to cycle. That cuts down on the power usage and still gets as many people in the dome as quickly as possible.” Zechs rubbed absently at his neck, hating the tension that was building within him. He was running towards a showdown with the infiltrators and their Sleeper allies and he had made provision for a circumstance of vision that closely resembled this, but was not quite true to it. He could feel that circumstances were not quite true to the vision and that allowed so much opportunity for things to go wrong. He could see only too clearly why he could, in those visions, save the lives of only twenty or so people. He needed to decide, one way or the other, whether to try to save them as they entered the dome, or to effectively lock them out to almost certain death in the Martian night. Regardless of which option he chose he needed to reach the control room and there face the choice that meant life and death to so many. Was he to lock out the workers and possibly sentence them all to death when their suits systems failed? Their life support functions on the enviro suits simply were not up to supporting human life during a Martian night. Was he to allow them to enter into the airlocks, save perhaps twenty of them and have the remainder die, unable to do more than watch them die as he would be driven off before he could disable the traps set over the controls? Decisions such as this he hated making. Libra and the decisions he had needed to make then still haunted him. It seemed at these times that he had a power over life and death itself and he hated that power. That he should decided who deserved to live or die did not sit well on his shoulders. Everyone had a right to live. It was not his place to say that this person died and that person lived. Why must he choose? Why must he be the one dragged into this … //It falls to you because you 'See' it, you moron. Stop whimpering and whining like a child who must choose which toy to play with. Prevaricating will not solve your problems. You can grovel in your nightmares when it is done, but now consider the options you have seen and the changes that have been made. Giles was never factored into your visions. He was never 'seen'. His presence has to make differences possible, be they for good or ill.// “So, we head for the storage and maintenance facility?” //I have to try.// “Yes. We will need to check the facility before we go past it as we can not afford to take the chance of having the sleepers at our back. We need to at least know who is in the building and if they are a likely threat.” “I wish I knew where those bastards are now.” Giles shook his head, rubbing at his forehead to sooth the tension headache he had been ignoring since he had begun to influence the reactions of the gardeners. “Are you alright?” “Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. It will pass. It's just reaction to using my ability for an extended period. It's normal. I always suffer headaches with its use.” //Interesting. If Giles experiences illness, as in headaches, after using his ability, then perhaps the reaction of my body when I experience visions is normal? I have no time to question him now, but if the opportunity presents itself, I will ask him if others with this precognitive ability experience a common illness.// He peered about the deserted dome, the hackles at the back of his neck raised in distrust. It was just too quiet. Way too quiet. He had no time to think about the Gifted or feeling ill or his desperate wish to curl up and sleep, to rest his abused body just for a few minutes. Now was the time to move, to take action that must be taken, but his feet refused to move and he ached in every bone and joint. Why could he not make himself move? There was something … Some 'thing' reaching out to him. He could feel his gut clench with the certainty that it was seeking him. Extending towards him. Some 'thing' that he could not see. Some 'thing' that he could not touch, yet some 'thing' that he knew was there. “Zechs?” It was there. Coming closer. It was there, just beyond the range of his vision, lurking in shadows most likely, of which there were many with the blood coloured light flooding the dome. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise in reaction to it. Some 'thing' hovering out there, seeking to come closer. Seeking. Searching. It was searching for him. Specifically for him, and that terrified him. He knew it was out there. Whatever it was it was … There! By the building they were going to be heading toward. He was certain that it lurked there, perhaps amid those crates stacked around the near corner of the structure. He could see nothing, true, but he could feel it. He knew that it was there. “Zechs? Shit, man, what is wrong with you? Look at me! Damn it, Zechs! Look at me!”
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