This is no.14 ""Duty" in the list of 20 fanwork fiction themes from the Dearka/Yzak site "Deep Emotion."

The long watch of Yzak Joule

C.E. 94

Yzak sat grimly working his way through the usual flood of incoming files on his screen. He could sense the waning PLANT light behind him in the office window, and he expected Dearka to arrive soon to chivvy him into going out for a meal.

He'd growl a little for form's sake, but Yzak knew he would be secretly glad to go. It had been a long day, in a succession of long days. Normally, that was fine by him. It was what he did; it was almost all that he was now, after so many years embedded in ZAFT High Command's bureaucracy. Yzak grimly asked himself, as he had increasingly of late: Perhaps it's time for that to change?

He was still mulling over that question, moodily staring at his vid screen, when Dearka sauntered into his office. Nothing about his neat uniform showed the long day he had also put in, but the tiredness in his face certainly betrayed it. Alone with Yzak, and outside the regular office hours of ZAFT Headquarters, he didn't bother with a formal salute. He strolled across and perched himself on a corner of Yzak's large desk, flexing the tired muscles in one booted leg.

He gave Yzak a lazy smile. "Hey there! How about having a break? You look pretty zoned out. Maybe you should call it a night before you fall forward into your screen and end up smashing ZAFT property with your hard head?"

"Shut up, Dearka. I'm busy."

"Aw, come on Yzak. We haven't had a meal out in ages. And afterwards we can lie together on the couch sipping some of your wine collection and listening to music. You won't have to talk, you won't even have to think, if you don't feel like it. And as an added inducement, I'll throw in a backrub, gratis! What do you say?"

The picture that Dearka painted definitely held appeal. Yzak didn't let himself give in to temptation very often, but tonight, he decided, he would.

"Yes, all right. I'll do it, if only to get a little peace."

"Great, Yzak. You just made my evening!"

The light caught a hint of silver in Dearka's blond hair as he smiled and stretched wearily. He seemed to be enjoying his apparent victory over his usually stubborn lover and commanding officer. The late afternoon light was harsh. Yzak noticed the lines at the corners of Dearka's eyes were getting deeper. Yzak grimly reflected: I wonder what signs of aging it shows up in my face? Still, it doesn't matter a fuck. We may be desk-bound these days, but Dearka works as hard at keeping fit as I do. That's all that matters. Barring unforeseen circumstances, we should both live for decades yet. And I'm damn well going to spend that time making sure no threat to peace ever happens again. Not on my watch!

Yzak turned off his vid unit, a signal of his intent not to return that night. Dearka gave a delighted grin and slid from the desk on to his feet. He briefly put his arm across Yzak's shoulders in a sort of half-hug. "Now that's more like it, Yzak!"

It was the nearest to a sign of affection that Yzak would permit when they were both in uniform, here at Headquarters. The brief contact and the whiff of Dearka's cologne were a pleasant tickle to his senses and Yzak didn't rebuke him for the liberty.

Dearka was too important to him. He was the one thing left in Yzak Joule's life that was not solely bound up with duty, with keeping the PLANTs safe, with guarding ZAFT, both from within and without.

"Well, if we're going, get your arse moving, Elsman!"

As Yzak walked with Dearka through the corridors, half-unconsciously accepting the salutes of the few junior officers they passed, Yzak contemplated the plans he was making for the next stage of his life. Perhaps it would be a good time to broach it with Dearka over dinner tonight? His insights are often useful, and it's going to be a big change in his life as well.

They ate at a simple Italian restaurant not far from ZAFT Headquarters. Apart from the excellence of the food, it was popular amongst the higher ranks for the acoustic controls built into each of the screened booths. The touch of a couple of buttons ensured truly private conversation. Yzak Joule also knew that it was trustworthy. That was because he had someone in ZAFT Intelligence monitor the place on a regular basis, for bugs or evidence of tampering with the table controls. Yzak Joule was not a man who trusted easily, or left things to chance.

As they started their simple meal, Yzak let Dearka's humorous anecdote about a couple of Headquarters staff wash over him, without really taking much of it in. His tired mind continued to circle the same topic that had preoccupied him for days now.

He knew now that he had risen as far as they would let him within ZAFT. Despite his track record of success, Yzak had recently come to realise that they would never promote him to that final position of control. He was not sure why.

He gave the mental equivalent of a snort: maybe it's my personality? He well knew his reputation as an arrogant son of a bitch, and rather savoured it. Or perhaps that was literally the problem? The 'bitch' in question had left her own dark political legacy. The memory of his mother's disastrous connections to Patrick Zala might well be a contributing factor.

Yzak hoped it hadn't anything to do with his sheltering of Dearka for all these years. The grudge against him for his defection to the Clyne Faction and the Naturals in the First War had lingered on surprisingly, and poisoned Dearka's chances of reaching very high rank. Yzak had to fight damned hard to even get his promotion to Commander. Well, fuck ZAFT High Command, if it was his connection to Dearka that had made the difference. Yzak would rather have Dearka with him, than become a bloody Senior Admiral!

And it was at that moment that Yzak finalised his decision to take the other route to power over ZAFT, which his conscience and ambition equally demanded. He would resign and enter civilian politics, with the aim of getting on the Supreme Council. His ultimate objective would be appointment as Chairman of the National Defence Committee, and the political command of ZAFT.

Yzak smiled grimly to himself. How glad Ezalia would have been if she had lived. If that damned Blue Cosmos attack hadn't take out her shuttle six years previously. Still, she'd been making those charity trips to Earth for years. She'd long accepted the risks that she'd been running. Yzak couldn't blame her. She'd seen it as her duty. And he could never fault her for that, no matter how much he missed her.

Yzak suddenly became aware that Dearka had fallen silent and was watching him with a quizzical smile. "You haven't listened to a word I've said, have you, Yzak? "

Yzak's mouth opened automatically to deny the accusation, as he had so many times before when caught out in a distracted mood. Dearka raised his hand playfully to cover Yzak's mouth, cutting off the words.

Dearka smirked. "Don't say a thing in your own defence, Yzak. For the last couple of minutes you have sat here very intelligently listening to me describe a proposal to have Headquarters painted pink."

He lowered his hand and looked Yzak in the eye, his tone becoming serious. "What's on your mind, Yzak? Is it something you can share with me?"

Yzak gave a slightly twisted smile. "You might say that. I've made a decision, and it's going to have a big effect on us both, if things go the way I intend. This is what I'm going to do, and you're going to help me…."

TWENTY THREE YEARS LATER…..

In the dim light of his study, the ex-chairman of the National Defence Committee, Yzak Joule, sat at his desk. He was watching a vid he had seen so many times, he could quote the words from memory. It was the expressive face, the long-remembered body language, and the little familiar gestures, he watched so carefully. The words had become almost like white noise accompanying his observation of his lost lover. Not that the contents of the vid were romantic, well not in the sense that most people would have understood. Dearka Elsman had not been a romantic person, but he'd certainly known about love, even when he was grinning shamefacedly as he had been, the day he made this message.

On the vid screen, Dearka made a self-deprecating smirk and shrugged his shoulders. "I won't ask you not to be mad when you get this, Yzak. I know you'll be furious, but this is the best I can do." Another shrug. "What can I say? I fucked up. Once I got you out, I couldn't resist the temptation to go back for Dr Henderson and the technician; they say that's when my REM dose went too high. Of course, they'd already got fatal doses too, so I didn't do them much good, either. Just a gamble that didn't pay off."

Dearka interrupted himself with a little dry cough, and slowly took a sip of water from the large glass in front of him. He was seated at the self-same desk at which Chairman Joule now sat, watching the vid as he had countless times over the five years since it was made.

Dearka's image grinned humourlessly. "I'd like to be around when you wake up, but the doctors tell me this is not likely to happen. I'm deteriorating too quickly, and it will be at least another month before they can risk releasing you from the gel-bath and therapeutic coma they've got you in. So, much as I'd love to hear you rip strips off me in person, I'm not going to be available for it, Yzak. I'm sorry…"

He coughed again, more harshly this time, and a thin trickle of blood appeared at the corner of his mouth. He quietly dabbed it away with a couple of tissues and took a longer drink of water.

"Now down to business, while I've the air for it. You'll find the reports waiting for when you get back, but all the results I've had so far from ZAFT Intelligence suggest that this was indeed simply a scientific accident. A miscalculation on Henderson's part when he set up the trial. They'll keep checking, but I'm willing to bet I'm right. So, not an attempt to assassinate you as the Chairman of the National Defence Committee, just an overeager scientist botching the demonstration of his new-fangled space engine. Well, Henderson's going to pay for his miscalculation, too. He's racing to find out what went wrong, by the way, while he's still functional. He thinks if he pinpoints the error, you may still give the project a fair hearing in the future."

Dearka shrugged, and ran one hand tiredly through his hair, in a characteristic gesture. Yzak remembered it from as far back as when they were at school together. "Hell, Yzak. He may even be right. If they can get the bugs out, a compact nuclear spaceship engine capable of that amount of power would make Mars colonisation do-able. And the capability for smaller ZAFT patrol craft to go further and faster would solve some of our worst logistical problems, you know that! So please, Yzak, don't let your anger cloud the issue. Look at it carefully when you get the chance, once all the dust settles, eh?"

Dearka abruptly broke off, staring at the fingers he had run through his hair. Several blond and silver strands had come away from his scalp as the hand withdrew. He gave a grin. "Well, fuck, Yzak. You always did say I'd go bald some day! Looks like your prediction is coming true, thanks to my little friends the REMs. Shit, I thought there was more hair on the brush this morning. At this rate I'm going to look really mangy in a few more days."

He smiled sweetly out from the vid, "Well, maybe it's a good thing I'm taping this message now, and not leaving it till later! Most of the official stuff, you'll get through the usual channels, so I won't go over it here. This is just to reassure you: all our people are in place and on the alert for trouble. I'm confidant they'll guard you and ZAFT till you can take up your responsibilities again. I – I just wish I could be there with you, Yzak, to watch your back, like always. I hate leaving you with it all. I always said I'd be there with you, no matter how long it took. And now I have to break my word."

The voice from the vid screen was husky with suppressed emotion now, and a single tear could be seen escaping down the bronze skin of his cheek. Yzak Joule's hand, pale and skeletally-thin, stretched out, and his index finger traced the drop in the image.

Dearka rubbed the tear away with the back of an impatient hand, almost as if in reaction to the touch on his face. "It's no good being sentimental about this Yzak; I know you won't appreciate that, so I'm not going to embarrass you…You know I love you, and I always will. But there are issues much bigger than you and me. Our lives have been spent pursuing certain goals, and that's not going to change just because I'm not around. It's all on you now, love. The doctors say you didn't get a fatal radiation dose, but there will be long-term damage to your health. They don't know how severe that will be, or what it will take to keep you functioning. Well, I know how you feel about doctors Yzak, and I'm here to tell you, you've got to cooperate with them! You've got to survive this and move on with the programme we set. You always said that it wasn't going to happen again, not on your watch. Well, babe, I guess your watch just got tougher and lonelier than we ever envisaged it would be. I know you won't give up!"

Dearka stopped to blow his nose on the tissues and swallow more water. Visibly calmer, he smiled crookedly and lounged back in his chair. "I took some flowers to your mother this morning. I thought it was only polite, seeing as I'll soon be moving in. I don't think she'll mind, not after all the years I free-loaded at the Joule Mansion. Ah, those were good years, Yzak…good years." He seemed lost in a pleasant memory dream for a little while; Yzak Joule stared at those smiling lips and sighed.

Dearka's image straightened in his chair and took a more serious tone, though the little smile was still visible. "I went to see Father the other day, too. Not to say goodbye; he doesn't even recognise me now. He was pottering about in the garden like always and when he saw me, he assumed I was a member of one of mother's charity committees, who'd come for a meeting with her. He told me to go right into the house, his wife would make afternoon tea, and to tell her he'd join her later when he'd finished the border he was working on. He's retreated totally now to the past when my mother was still alive. I guess it was the happy time in his life, and who am I to begrudge it to him? Look after him for me Yzak, won't you? I've left the paperwork all ready for you to sign, to become his legal guardian. Apart from a few distant cousins there's no other family left, and nobody I trust like you. I'm sorry to add to your burdens, love. I know you'll do it. Please know that you have my gratitude. It's helping me to achieve at least a little peace of mind. When his time comes, please see that he is buried with my mother. There's a vacant plot beside her; I'm sure if he was capable of deciding, it is what he would want."

The image of Dearka's hand filled the screen; he must have stretched his fingers across the vid pick-up screen, as if trying to touch a future he could reach no other way. "I'll wait for you on the other side, Yzak. Just don't be in too much of a hurry to join me, eh? And know that I love you…forever. Dearka Elsman, signing off."

And then the screen went dark, as it had so many times before.

Yzak Joule relaxed shakily back in his deep chair. In the weeks since he had resigned his position on the Supreme Council he had ceased taking all medication, and the effects were certainly taking their toll on his body. He didn't care; most of the loose ends of his life were now tied up with just a few personal records, including this vid, to be destroyed. Dearka's father had died of a stroke some six months previously and had been buried as Dearka had asked. Yzak had made his personal farewells to the few remaining people he considered friends or close allies. Now he was wiping the slate clean. Apart from those who had personal memories of him, there would be little trace left of Yzak Joule after his death, apart from official records relating to his military and political careers. And much of the former was still under security ban, and would probably remain that way for many decades. Yzak intended, as much as he could, to fade from the pages of history. The desire to make a name for himself had been one of the driving forces of his youth so many years ago; it had been burned away over the years by the intense need to achieve his goals. The less his opponents knew of him and his objectives, the smaller the chance they would find some way to neutralise his efforts. Yzak Joule, the architect of what ZAFT had evolved into over two decades of careful manipulation, intended to leave them nothing of himself behind to be used against his creation.

And he was so tired. Weary to the bone, weary to his very soul. He wanted to rest and he wanted Dearka. He had never been as certain as Dearka of there being life after death. Well, he was going to find out for himself quite soon now. Either way, he couldn't loose. Either he was going to sleep forever or he was going to see Dearka again. He hoped for the latter but the former would be acceptable. He had slaved for the last five years to strengthen and stabilize ZAFT, packing what should have been the work of decades into a few short years. His hand-picked people were now in positions of power throughout the organisation; they would ensure that his policies continued to dominate for many years to come. Lacus Clyne's administration had kept the peace now for decades; the ZAFT he had built to back up that effort would continue on into the foreseeable future. It was all he could give the future; he hoped it would be enough.

His hand slid to the delete button on the vid control panel and then hesitated. Perhaps he would indulge himself and watch it just one more time…