Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, or the characters within it.
Note: Sorry I didn't write. Three of my friends died on the same day, so I wasn't in the mood for writing about insanity and violence. I think writing and finishing this chapter is a big step for me in the right direction.
TO MY READERS: You're all amazing. For anyone who has stuck through and read this along the way: thanks a million. I never imagined anyone would follow my work so closely, or over such a freakin' long period of time.
Title: The Perfection of 02
By: Maxwell-Yuy
"She was pregnant."
Treise glanced up from the report he was reading, a slight curiosity playing at his features. "Hello, Zechs."
The blonde man stood with an air of intensity and anger, staring down his friend and commander. He was clearly unhappy with the other's response, and his next words were spat out with a bitterness Treise had never heard before. "She was pregnant. I would have been a father, and now I'm nothing."
Setting down the papers in his hand, Treise slowly reached for a cup of tea his secretary had left on his desk. Lifting it to his lips he took a slow sip and maintained his proper posture. "It's unfortunate that Lieutenant Noin gave her life for the cause. I know she meant a lot to you, but there's nothing you can do to help her now."
Zechs couldn't believe his ears. "Is it that simple to you? Is everyone just a pawn in this war? I loved her. She was my future."
"And now she isn't. That's the way life goes sometimes. You have to face it and move on because if you don't keep going you'll never get opportunities." Treise put down his cup and continued with an air of virtue. "Pilot 02 killed the woman you love and naturally you are upset. But you're even more upset with yourself for not appreciating her. She died without knowing how much you cared. She was a rose, and you neglected your garden. You can't live like that. But you can live knowing you've evened the score. You can live once you've had your revenge."
Eyes narrowing, Zechs glared at the man before him. He was no longer certain what to think of the Oz leader. "What do you mean?"
"Pilot 02 should be arriving here shortly. I set the bait. Perhaps you can reel him in?"
>> >>
It was only the third time Sally had ever met Howard in person. They'd been in sporadic contact via email and phone calls but it wasn't often their paths crossed in the tangible world. This time was different from the others. Part of her felt like she was betraying a friend. The rest of her knew that the meeting with Howard was not only critical in swaying the outcome of the war, but it was the only way they could save the captured Gundam pilots. Saving Duo, however, was an entirely different story.
Three minutes past their rendezvous time she saw the old man coming up fast in a jeep. Somehow it seemed fitting of him. Knowing it was in everyone's best interests if their conversation was private, she waited for him to come to a stop and climbed into the vehicle with him. Taking off immediately, they drove for several minutes before he began to talk.
"I've seen the Kid halfway lose his mind, and let me tell you, you don't want to be there when he snaps." Laying his forearms on the wheel casually and leaning forward to peer into the sky above, Howard allowed the lull of the road to let his words sink in.
"I got a tip from Doc G. to – "
"You mean Professor G.?"
Howard gave a crooked grin. "The man's got a doctorate in Engineering, does he not?" He didn't wait for a reply. "Like I was saying, I got a tip from Doc G. to keep an eye out on the Kid and look for any signs of disturbance. Now I'm not sayin' the Kid is disturbed, but I am sayin' that the old man was concerned about some behavioral patters he'd observed." Howard leaned back into the driver's seat. Sally was looking at him, but he ignored the feel of her gaze and focused on the road ahead.
"The others: they all had proper training. Yuy was practically bred for this war. Barton was raised with mercenaries and learned the life of a soldier years ago. Chang was raised in a warrior clan and that Winner kid was sent to academies for this kind of thing. Not only that, but they were all part of an organized technical training program before this "Operation Meteor" shit hit the fan. They knew what was coming, and they were carefully selected to be Gundam pilots. Tested, trained, and ready to go.
But Duo was never supposed to be involved in all of this. Doc G. spent all of his time on the machinery, not the user end. He had one test pilot who seemed promising, and that guy died in a routine training exercise three months before Operation Meteor. And not a week passed between his death and when the Kid just waltzed right into his place.
I may be one of those 'geniuses' who designed the Tallgeese and Peacemillion, but I'll never understand how an orphan from the streets of L2 managed to stow away on a Sweepers ship and hack into its security. I doubt the Kid had ever seen a complex computer before, but he managed. It's like he was hardwired from birth to simply exist on a level above everyone else. As soon as he was caught by the old man's security, he was offered the job – to become the pilot of Deathscythe. The Kid took it without hesitation."
Howard turned the vehicle down a winding side road. "I'd have done the same thing if I was in G's place – any kid who could hack my security deserved a job. But being a Gundam pilot is more than computer skills. And that Kid had everything it took. I heard that after 10 minutes in the cockpit of Deathscythe's simulator, the Kid was doing maneuvers that his predecessor never dreamed of. It was natural to him – like breathing.
"His hand-to-hand combat skills were as impressive as the toughest of street kids, and a little refinery went a long way. As far as tactics, he'd apparently been employing them from a young age. While street kids stick to simple procedures for stealing everyday stuff, they will set up some pretty complex operations when it's necessary."
He paused for a brief moment. "Did you know he's fluent in five languages?"
Sally's head snapped back towards Howard from where it had drifted back to the road. "No. I wasn't aware."
"And those five are just the ones I've heard myself. When I asked how many he knew, he just grinned at me and evaded the question."
"How did a kid from the streets with no formal education learn all of that?"
Howard shook his head. "He said he just picked it up from people. L2 has got a good deal of poor people who don't speak any of the basic languages. But even then, just picking up a language without schooling or a teacher isn't common."
Sally had a feeling she was about to state the obvious. "So Duo is a prodigy."
Howard grunted. "Sort of, yes. Many prodigies excel in a single field, but Duo excels in almost everything. Some his skills are learned or byproducts of his environment. His stealth and hand-to-hand combat skills are likely directly linked to street survival. But his other skills aren't so easily explained."
Sally frowned. "So dumb luck caused a child prodigy, perfect for Operation Meteor, to fall into the hands of one of those crazy scientists? I don't buy that. 'Coincidence' is just a word people use when they don't want to admit the truth."
Smiling at the woman in the passenger seat, Howard grinned. "I love it when I'm speaking to scientists." As Sally chuckled, he pressed on. "I also thought it was too good to be true. And what I uncovered…" He shook his head. "Sally, you're never going to believe this…"
>> >>
Madrid. A name he'd used before, but never like this. It was like trying it on for the first time. The way it rolled off his tongue. The way his lips came together. How his tongue touched behind his teeth. The deadly hint in his voice and he said the name over and over again.
Part of him was whispering that he was going mad. The other part was screaming to find the other pilots and win the war and crush everyone in Oz. They should destroy everyone in Oz until the Gundam pilots were the only ones left standing.
But there was something he had to do that was bothering him. He out of place – like he forgot something very important. It didn't make sense. He always checked his duffle before moving locations, and the coordinates of the holding facility were firmly memorized as well as safely stored in the computer in his pocket. So what was the problem?
It bothered him to no end that he was drawing such a big blank. He'd checked the building plans. He memorized the blueprints. If he knew the mission in and out, there couldn't be anything else. Could there?
To add to the strange void he was feeling he was also painfully aware of the fact that he was taking public transportation. Traveling incognito meant hiding in plain sight. It also meant traveling much more slowly than he would have preferred. By this point, a few hours wouldn't make much difference with the rescue mission. But it didn't mean he had to like the wait.
Part of him wanted to break into the cabin of the commuter plane, slash the pilot's throat, and really get the little jet engine going. Rationality told him that causing a scene would only bring unwanted attention and alert Oz to his whereabouts.
The flight gave him time to think and to plan. But when repeating his plans in his head proved to be tedious, one thought rose above all the others: what was wrong with him? He ruled out the possibility that he was crazy. He chuckled at his earlier worry. Of course he was sane. He was super-sane. He was the poster child for level-headedness. No crazy person would put so much time into the rationalization of his own thoughts. Every violent urge was met with equally potent reason. He held sanity tightly in his hands, ignoring the desperation of his thoughts.
Exhausted, he closed his eyes and briefly fell asleep. He saw Solo's tussled hair that was always so dirty he could never tell if it was a pure blonde or light brown. From underneath that hair came green eyes that would fool anyone into thinking they were black. Duo had studied them up close for long enough to know the truth. The crooked grin. The… frown. Eyebrows drew closer to those deviant green eyes as the boy's brow furrowed.
Like so many times before his lips parted without a sound like he was trying to remember what it was he wanted to say. They lingered apart the same way they lingered when he died. It was then that the intermittent dreams of Solo began. Duo spent many days and nights wondering what those last words were supposed to be.
He knew he could easily make up something for Solo to say. Since he was around the age of seven he'd been a lucid dreamer, and from time to time he would change things he didn't like while in a dream state. Until someone told him otherwise, he thought it was a common occurrence.
His sleep patterns had never been like the average person. Before lucid dreaming, he suffered from Night Terrors that caused him to scream in his sleep and severely beat anyone and anything that came near him. He'd never mentioned them to anyone outside of Solo, and any witnesses were long gone – either killed by the harshness of street life on L2 or escaped to another colony by dubious means. All he could remember of those nights was abject terror, and the bizarre sensation that came with the physicality of the situation. There are few things in the world that feel as much like an out of body experience as sleep-fighting, especially when you recall the events from a third party view and remember an inability to control yourself.
But when the terrors stopped, the lucidity began. It was wonderful. There was rarely a specific moment in which he knew he was dreaming and that he had potential control, but he was always consciously aware that he was subconsciously in a fake reality where he had the potential to be a god.
Usually he just enjoyed the ride. Most of his dreams were wonderful – filled with friendships he knew he'd never have, love he thought didn't exist, and the life of a Gundam pilot without the fear of death or the doubts about morality. That was one of the dream themes he liked the most – briefly living his own life like it was a summer action flick, knowing that he was the protagonist who would survive all the unlikely scenarios and live to tell the tale while bringing unquestionable justice to a cheering public.
But the dream with Solo was a haunting mystery. And as much as it would make his life simpler to just gain control, he couldn't alter its course. He was trapped, suspended over the situation, watching himself be completely helpless, knowing it was a dream but not being able to change anything.
Those lips parted again without sound. It was almost a ritual now. And yet every time he saw the other boy he couldn't tear his eyes away. Solo was the first person he ever had a connection with, and death had proven incapable of destroying their bond.
Like many times before, Solo began to say something. His lips were moving silently and refrained from forming any decipherable patterns so that even a lip reader would gain nothing from the interaction. The silence was unbearable. Suddenly, with a Herculean effort he managed the impossible and ripped his body from its stance to turn away from the vision of the dead boy in front of him. The pain that single action caused shook Duo to the core.
"Duuuuo."
He froze. Was his mind playing tricks on him? Surely he didn't hear –
"Duo."
There it was again. Stronger and clearer. A voice he hadn't heard in…
"Duo!"
He whipped around to see Solo staring at him with a purpose. The green-eyed boy cocked his head to the side and repeated himself. This was new. This was definitely new.
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Hello, glorious readers. This is where you get to play a part in the story and tell me which direction YOU would like me to go with Duo's past. I'm a little tired of doing it all on my own, and good ol' Howard is just waiting for your votes! Here's the choices:
Conspiracy and cover-up involving G, and others in Duo's life
Duo really is a prodigy, his past is exposed
Duo is a defunct soldier from another entity, his whole past is a lie
None of the above (scenario that if summarized gives it all away)