A/N: First of all, I'm sorry for the crappy title. The entire time I was writing this, all I could think of was Mambo No. 5, and though this story is actually a pretty serious one, the satirical title stuck. That said, I have no idea what the update time table on this one looks like, that sort of depends on how often Duo decides to camp out in my head.
A note on the timeline: This is vaguely an AU, simply because I haven't read enough about Frozen Teardrop to work it into my headcanon. It takes place about seven years after the events of Endless Waltz.
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, or the characters in this piece. I'm just a fan, writing things that I think are fun.
Sittin' here in this dank cave is a lot like sittin' in the cockpit of 'Scythe up in space. It's even quiet in a similar way, with nothing but cosmic radiation buzzin' in my ear, and a distant drippin' that's probably gonna drive me insane before I get out. The problem there is that I have no idea when that'll be. See, I've gotten myself into somethin' of a pickle, worse than anything since the crazy tumultuous days of Op Meteor when I was just a stupid little kid doin' what he felt he had to. Feels like that was a lifetime ago, and not just seven years. Hell, I figured by the time I was twenty-two I'd be livin' somewhere quiet. I've still got the salvage yard, and I imagine Hilde's on it, still pissed at me for leavin' her like I did, without sayin' anything, but it ain't my home. Guess I've turned into somethin' of a nomad. Oh how the mighty fall, right? Somethin' like that.
When we colonized Mars, we didn't expect there to be a war, which is what I'm startin' to suspect is inevitable. See, we didn't realize anyone was gonna be here, that there would be locals who might take offense to us drillin' into their planet with our force field focal points and poles to set up more permanent housing. Wouldn't be the first time we were wrong. But another thing we didn't expect, or I didn't, anyway, was getting' drug into the mess. Quatre said no outright, and forbade Tro from joining us (that seemed to cause a little spat between them, and I still figure Tro will show up at some point, probably to save my ass), and I reckon Heero and Wufei will show up eventually too, if they aren't already here. Me? Well, I jumped at the opportunity to throw myself back into danger. Dunno why I thought that would be a smart move, but what did I say once, years ago? Somethin' about how soldiers are idiots. That's me, Duo Maxwell, infinitely capable of quoting people centuries dead, but I can't remember somethin' I said less than a damn decade ago.
But you're probably wonderin' how I ended up in a cave on Mars. Truthfully, so am I. See, I was down here runnin' some recon, basic stuff really, not expectin' to find anything, because while my original briefing included that there seemed to be some intelligent life forms sabotaging equipment, pickin' off the men workin' on getting the civilizations really set up, I didn't believe it. I thought I'd find some underground source of radiation, some device lobbed onto this big red rock years and years ago that was fuckin' with things. Nobody told me about the damn cave system just within the perimeter set up for the life support structure. I'm givin' people the benefit of the giant friggen' doubt on this one, because why wouldn't they have told me, if they'd known?
Maybe I'm still too paranoid to be back out in the field. Hilde's told me enough times, when a pile of crap topples in the distance somewhere and I freak, or when I hear a computer dinging in the office and think a mission is comin' through, that I'm too high strung. I laugh it off, sure, cuz I'm never in battle mode these days. Or rather, I'd been out of it for the past couple years, managing my time with Sweeper stuff and such, keepin' my nose outta business that ain't any of mine. Until I got pulled into this little mess, that is.
They started colonizing Mars a little over a year ago, is what I already knew, and it was destined to be slow goin' from the get go. There's just a lot you have to worry about when trying to turn a pretty volatile planet into a place for humans to come down and crash on. Officially it's for scientists and extreme vacationers, whatever the hell that means, but I've seen lies before, and I've sniffed out ones a helluva lot better disguised than this one. Sure, my briefing followed the same track as what's been on the holonet, but there's military shit goin' on here, and I knew it before I got an anonymous correspondence all but demanding my presence via secure comm channel.
Funny that someone wantin' to talk to me didn't realize how fuckin' stupid that was.
It took me about five minutes to scramble the origin of my system, and to stick in a nice little tracker and recorder. I didn't know who I was talkin' to, but I wasn't about to be caught off guard by anyone. Hey, I've made it this long, after a couple botched assassination attempts, and I figure it's better to continue to be a sneaky little ass than a dead one. The face that showed up on the comm channel wasn't one I recognized, but that doesn't always mean much. Hell, she could have been a proxy. Probably was, now that I think about it, given my reaction to the blonde who showed up on the other side of the screen.
I guess I should mention at this point I glanced at my second monitor to check Hilde's position, and no longer just because I was potentially gettin' myself into military grade trouble.
"Hey, there, doll," I said, puttin' on my best grin. It's a show that's gotten me more than a little attention in the past, and this gal looked ready to play the same game, if her return smile meant anything, and I've found it always does, it's just not always somethin' a guy wants.
"Duo Maxwell, I presume," she said.
"Man, y'know, I really outta get a secret codename, or somethin.' Isn't that what all the cool kids do?"
"Hardly," she said. "My name is Lillian Monroe. I have a business proposal to discuss with you."
"Woah, woah, slow down, there, darling,' no need to jump right into things," I said, leaning back a bit in my chair. She could see the office behind me better, that way, and if I was right, she was recording just like I was. Hell, I probably could have jammed her signal, kept her from doing it, but not with her eyes watchin' me like they were. Besides, I wanted her to see the office, wanted whoever it was to know I was at my salvage yard. I'd hidden my location broadcast from them via the satellite, but they'd be idiots not to expect that from the God of Death.
"That's where I'm afraid you're incorrect, Mr. Maxwell," she said, tone and expression at odds with her come hither, smoky brown eyes. She could throw me for a real loop, that one, or she could if I hadn't first encountered truly treacherous members of the opposite – and sometimes not so opposite – sex not long after my penis had sprouted a personality and started yabberin' at me. "There's a limited shelf life on this particular job opportunity. If you want it, as we're certain you will, you'll have to leave for Mars right away."
"Mars?" I arched an eyebrow, scratched my head. "I dunno 'bout all of that. I got a pretty decent gig goin' here, y'know."
"Working with scrap metals?" She asked, but her smile said she knew exactly what I did, all the shady business under the table I didn't like to talk about with anyone, even Hilde. Hell, especially Hilde. She'd kill me if she knew half the shit I'm still up to.
"Surprisingly lucrative business, scraps are," I said, narrowing my eyes as I leaned in toward the screen, all too aware I've be flooding her monitor with my big baby blues. "But if we've gotta just talk business, get to it."
"We have passage for you, from L2 to Mars, set to leave tomorrow morning at 0500. You'll be more fully briefed upon arrival. Before I go on, what do you know about the colonization attempts of the Red Planet?"
"Not much, I guess," I said, scratching my nose. "It's supposed to be less like the Earth prototypes theorized before, cuz it's Mars and it just wouldn't work that way. Somethin' about a bunch of constructs with atmosphere controls and such, to make it livable? Seemed pretty iffy to me, but I'm less of a bio dome engineer and more a tech guy, myself."
"That's part of it, yes," she said. "Presently, we operate with atmosphere control technology, the fields of which dip down under the surface of the planet, approximately forty kilometers into the crust. This is for security reasons, however, we've encountered a couple of problems we believe stem from the depth of our living quarter capabilities."
"Uh huh, right, but uhh, who are you guys, exactly? Don't think you managed to include that so far."
"Of course, my apologies, Mr. Maxwell," again that killer smile, not that it ever really diminished, just seemed to suddenly amp up about a thousand wattage. Dang girl, you're tryin' too hard. "I represent the interests of the Monroe Corporation. We're a privately funded group of, primarily, scientists, who are seeking potential relocation opportunities for humanity, in the event that the colonies continue to grow in population the way they are."
"Ah, yeah? Population cap didn't work out too well, did it?"
"Of course not. People are people, as you well know, Mr. Maxwell."
"Just what's that supposed to mean, exactly, Miss, what was it? Lillian?" She inclined her head, but didn't move to answer my question, which irked me, but also caught my attention. "You said you're having problems on Mars. What kind of problems are we talkin?'"
"Disappearances, equipment being tampered with, a few of our workers have been discovered, dead. We believe there is some manner of foul play behind it."
"Foul play…? You're callin' me in because you think somebody is fuckin' with your toys? No offense, lady, but I think you're confused on just who you're talkin' to."
" I know precisely who you are," she said. "Duo Maxwell, pilot of the Gundam Deathscythe, among other various models. Beyond that you're a skilled tactician, and you're considered unparalleled when it comes to communications and stealth operations. You're perfectly suited for getting to the heart of this issue, I assure you."
"You're still dancin' around that issue."
"We believe there are native Martians interfering with our operations on the planet," she said, deadpan so I knew she was telling the truth, at least so far as she knew.
"Martians. You mean, like, aliens? Extraterrestrials?"
"Something to that extent," she said. "I really can't tell you any more than that, not over this line."
"Right, right..." I said, rolled my eyes. "Send me the damn coordinates and shuttle info, I'll be on Mars whenever your pilot gets me there. Hell, at least I'm flyin' legit this time."
"I'm glad to see you're in agreement on the matter."
"Yeah well trust me, if I get there and find y'all aren't payin' enough, my ass is right back to my comfy ole swivel chair on L2. I'm just takin' the bite cuz I'm curious."
"Don't worry, Mr. Maxwell, you'll find we'll compensate you handsomely enough."
She cut the connection on me, left me sittin' in my office wondering what the hell I'd gotten myself in to. Of course at that point I wasn't too worried about it, nothin' had happened yet, after all. The way I saw it, it was little more than a simple information gathering mission. Though why they'd needed someone of my experience, I wasn't sure. Probably just overly worried lab geeks scared of boogey men under the surface of a strange planet. Whatever, I'm not afraid of aliens. I'm still not afraid of aliens, even though I'm pretty sure I've seen some.
I went to bed that night poured over some old battle schematics, transcripts of a fight that broke out near Mars. It had some details on the planet's surface, nothing serious, but enough to give me an idea of what I was walkin' into. Of course it turned out to be nothing like what I read about, as the shuttle touched down on what looked to be a giant helipad, connected to the main compound by a shimmering tunnel that made me all too aware of that, were their tech to fail, we'd all be left floating off into the harsh reality of the Martian surface. I was glad to get from under it and into the compound, which was all rough concrete walls and red dirt floors, but it seemed safer, at least.
From there it was briefing, which turned out to be just about as useful as everything Miss Monroe had told me the night before. No sighting of whoever, or whatever, the guy in the white coat kept stressing, had been dicking around with them. But that didn't mean they weren't out there, somewhere, probably hiding beneath the surface. See, they told me as much, all but pointed me in the direction of the cave I'm currently squatting in, but they couldn't come right out and say it?
I'm starting to wonder if maybe we weren't lured down here, me and the other pilots. I told Quatre to be careful, before the batteries I rigged from my Mars suit died, leaving my long range comm unit miserably useless. He assured me he and Trowa had nothing to do with it, had told a different representative of the same group that they weren't interested in the money. Guess Quatre's got enough of that, and Trowa's never needed much of anything, really.
But I'm still holdin' out on Heero and Wufei showing up down in these tunnels somewhere. I wandered the surface for a good week and a half before trotting my ass down here, and that was days ago. Right now I'm runnin' out of juice, just like my battery, desperately in need of a bit of sleep. But at least I lost the things that were after me, at least I think I have. There are no more sounds in the darkness, no snarling breaths, and the stench is gone. Smelled like rotting flesh, as I scurried down deeper into the complex. Up would have been preferable, really, really preferable, but it just wasn't an option.
See, that's what makes me think this was a trap, and I walked right into it. I think that girl was in on it, wanted us out of the way for whatever it is they're really plannin' to do with Mars. Maybe the big nasties I ran into, or almost did, really, weren't put here by her, but maybe they were. Don't much wanna think about that, cuz it opens up the mind to a fresh hell of possibilities, but it wouldn't be the first time I've seen Hell and come roaring out of it. So if this is the start to some new war, one they want me and the others personally out of the way of, then I'll be ready for, eventually. We've faced odds more stacked against us than this, believe it or not. Hell, my entire life has been about stacked odds and things I shouldn't have survived.
Granted, the last time I had a Gundam, not just a shitty little pistol. What I wouldn't give to have 'Scythe back right now. I'd take the comforting nothingness of space over the dripping darkness of this fuckin' cave. But what's a guy to do, huh? But face that he's back nearly to the helplessness felt as a child, at least in part, at least while I'm down here with no idea what to do, and a very limited supply of light.
Fighting my out sounds better than all that submissive shit. Find the others if they were stupid enough to get involved, and if not, save my own skin. I'll figure out the rest of what's going on once I'm top side again, and man will I be thankful for that. Even if this place smells weird. That's the plan, the skeleton of it at least. Time to get some shut eye, as much of it as I can.
I have a feelin' tomorrow is gonna be one helluva day.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this. This is the first time I've really let Duo take the wheel in... Well, ever, really. I'm still getting back into the swing of fanfics, and this was very much a spur of the moment project. If you had fun with it, drop me a line and lemme know. Or ya can just go about your day. But I'd love it if you'd let me know if you liked it (or anything you saw that was awful, horrible, no bad, definitely not good!). And as always, sharing is caring!