Alternative Directions: Options

Chapter 21

L2 Cluster

Colony L2-0397 [La Grange point 2. Serial Number 0397

Date: 1st March AC 198

Time: 09:25

Duo

"Hey Q-man. How's things hangin'?"

On the vid screen Quatre Raberba Winner looked much the same as when Duo had last spoken to him, not so long ago in the Sanc kingdom. The L4 Cluster's representative and the owner of the Winner Enterprises corporation still looked somewhat cherub like, but anyone who really sat down and took the time to look at the young man, would see the hint of steel in him.

Quatre was an empath and over the years he had been forced to learn some measure of control and restraint over his abilities. Some of that restraint had been in controlling his own reactions to people. Let a strong empath loose in a crowd and without adequate shields and control the empath would go down in a screaming sobbing heap. Take the crowd away and place the empath in a corporate board room with big business executives and the result would be the same. Sharks, Quatre had once described executives to Duo as resembling. Voracious creatures out for all they could get, constantly pushing and shoving and maneuvering and stimulating scenarios to benefit their own position.

It sounded uncommonly like a room full of politicians to Duo.

Quatre was young, yes, but he was certainly not a child. No one who had piloted a Gundam was a child, despite their chronological ages. No one who had physically fought and survived the wars they had, could be considered a child. His business opponents were certainly finding that out to their displeasure and Duo suspected that too many assumed it was Quatre's fellow board members who were making all of the decisions at Winner Enterprises. It was so easy to look at that too handsome face, with those too large blue eyes and see an angel. That angel had horns hidden in pale golden hair.

"Duo. Good morning. Why the call? I'll be at the palace in a few hours. What could not wait until then? Are you in the security detail for the garden party?"

Quatre sat at what looked like a desk with his back to a wide expanse of sky and in the left upper corner was a glimpse of a mountain range that Duo was sure he recognized. To see that view Quatre had to be at his company office in New Port City, not at the hotel as Duo had expected him to be at this hour. It was as well that he had called using the private com lines Quatre had set up that would allow the pilots to access him no matter where he was, be it on any of the Colonies or on Earth.

"I'm not in Sanc, Quatre. I came to L2 last night. To see Hilde." He flashed his manic grin.

"Ah." A quiet sigh. "Heero mentioned that he told you about Aidan. Is everything alright? You and Hilde have not argued?"

"Yeah, its okay. Hilde and I have got some more talking to do, but so far, things are fine. We'll get there."

"Good. I'm glad. What is he like, your son?"

Duo beamed, unable to help himself. His arms could still feel that small warm bundle. He could still smell that subtle baby scent and he could see that heart shaped face so clearly in his minds eye. Babies were so small and so helpless it had frightened him at first, but there was a certain magic in knowing that he had helped to make that small life.

"He's... Quatre, I can't describe what it was like, holding him for the first time. Seeing him and touching him. I fed him a bottle and Hilde and I talked. We talked late into the night and she let me hold Aidan all that time. I can't describe what it felt like."

Quatre's grin was wide and he shook his head slightly. "I think your face just did a pretty good job, Duo. I am pleased that Hilde allowed you access to him. Did you call me to tell me about Aidan, or did you want something else?"

He could see someone moving behind Quatre, momentarily blocking out the view of the mountains and winced. The former gundam pilot had a business that spanned Earth and the Colonies and his time was precious. No time for chit chat over the com lines. Besides, he had some things to do and a son to visit. He had no idea how long he had on L2 before Lady Une called for him to undertake the mission to Mars. For the time he had free he needed to ensure that arrangements were in place to protect his son no matter what might happen to him.

"Well, I was sort of wondering if you could maybe do me a favor? I mean, if something happened could you maybe do me a favor?" He had never asked for help before on personal matters before this matter of having a son came up.

First he had had to go cap in hand to Lady Une and enlist her aid, and now he was turning to Quatre. It felt so odd. He had always been independent, making his own way since the massacre of the Maxwell Church. He had grown up quickly and he was not accustomed to needing others help for personal problems.

Quatre's gentle blue eyes softened. "Duo, I don't understand. What do you want me to do?"

He knew he was blushing. He could feel the burning in his face, but there was no help for it. He had never asked for favors from Quatre before. Nor from any of the other pilots. He had always made his own way, both before the war and after it. Yet he had been alone then. Now he had responsibilities. He had a son who would have needs he hoped he would be around to meet. He was, however a realist. He had thought a lot about this since returning to L2.

"Well, I was sort of wondering. If something happened to me, I... Well, you and the other pilots are like the only family I have left." How best to say this? Maybe simply plunging and letting his mouth run away with itself was the best way. "If something happened to me and Hilde I was wondering if you could... well, look after Aidan for us? I mean, you know what line of work I'm in. Any time I do a job for Preventers I might not come back from it. I just was sort of hoping if something did happen to me, if you would keep an eye on Hilde and the baby?"

Blue eyes widened considerably at that. "Duo! I... I'm honored, of course, but nothings going to happen to you."

"Yeah, well I know that we all like to think that, but I need to consider more than myself now. I just thought I'd ask. Things can go wrong on a mission, Quatre. I've come close to buying a boat ride across a certain dark river a couple of times. I'd just feel better every time I go out on a job if I knew there was someone looking out for Aidan. If the worst should ever happened."

"Hilde will be there, Duo." Quatre's blue eyes were very gentle and he totally ignored the hand that touched him on the shoulder, trying to draw his attention.

"I know, I know. Just - Quatre, I'd really appreciate it, if you would agree to become Aidan's Guardian if anything did happen to me and Hilde. You're the only one of the pilots I know who has a real family to back them up. Heero... well, you know what he's like. Wu Fei, don't make me laugh over the very thought of it and well, Trowa's always on the move with the circus. I just want to know that he will have a home. Someone to care for him."

Quatre sighed. Shook his head slightly. "Duo, nothing will happen to you or to Hilde, but if you really want me to, I will agree to act as Guardian to your son, should the need ever arise. It would be my pleasure and I thank you for the trust."

Duo sighed, not realizing how tense he had been about this, his body almost trembling with the release of tension. "Thanks, man. You don't know how much that means to me. I never thought about this stuff before. Never thought that having a kid would mean the kind of changes I'm now facing. Having a kid really makes you open your eyes. I guess I need to have this written down somewhere? Make it official, like."

Quatre nodded, grinning. "Yes, you do need to do that. If you like I can get you an appointment with a solicitor on L2. He can make all the arrangements for you and forward the papers to me to sign. Do you have a Will, Duo?"

"Ah, no?" Hesitant. "I never really saw the need to, before. There was just me and I don't have much."

// All my family were dead. All accept for the four people who are just as crazy as me. Of them all, Quatre would have to be about the sanest person I know. Gah, what am I thinking? Sanest? Most established and reasonable, maybe, but are any of us sane after what we went through? And there was that Zero incident. With all your sisters surrounding you and keeping you in their sights, guess you have no choice but to stay sane. Some of those sisters of yours I have met are damn scary. But they all seem to really love their families. I want that for Aidan. If I can't give it to him. //

"Okay, that will need to be dealt with too, then. Where are you now? I'll have a solicitor drop by and discuss all the details with you before you do anything else. You should also inform Hilde of any decisions you make that will affect her or your son now or in the future." Quatre was writing something quickly and passed the memo to the person standing behind him.

"Okay, I'll tell her. I just want the best for my boy if anything should happen."

"That's understandable, Duo. I'll make a couple of calls and get my people on this as soon as possible. You give me your number and address and I'll have a solicitor get in touch with you in the next hour. That be okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, man, that's okay. That's good."

"Alright. I'll make those calls as soon as I get off the line." A classic Quatre smile beamed at him from the vid screen. "I am honored that you thought of me for this, Duo."

He hoped the blush was not too obvious over the vid screen, but he was so relieved that Quatre was willing to help him. He had been the unifying factor in their days during the war. It was Quatre more than anyone else who had brought the pilots together in those terrible days before Libra.

"I don't have many friends, Quatre, but those I do have are quality. Real quality, who help when you really need it. I'm staying at the Astoria Arms on L2. I won't go out until I hear from your solicitor."

"Alright. I will make the calls and see what I can arrange. You should not have to wait long."

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Silver Lady

Sector 433A [Vicinity of the Asteroid Belt

Ships Day: 13:05

"Captain, the ship does not answer our hails. No response on any channels."

Beyond the ship at the relatively close distance of some two thousand kilometers, the asteroid belt loomed, making the object of interest on the screens an insignificant speck of dust. Distant sunlight reflected occasionally on the hull as the target ship rotated on its axis. On the observation screen the scrolling information from their scans revealed the ship broadcasting the distress call to be a class three Ore Carrier.

"Any sign of life?" The captain, a dark eyed ex-patriot of the now disbanded Oz forces, half turned to face his scanner operative.

"Heat sensors are registering no life signs, Captain, and the engines are cold. No heat sources from major life support equipment. Sensors indicate all life pods are still on the ship." The young man at the consul glanced up to meet the Captain's gaze. "She is totally dead in space, Sir."

Captain Derek Horatio Sandler, known as Sandy to his friends in off duty hours, scowled at the screen. Long range sensors revealed the ship to be a somewhat shiny spec spinning slowly against the ever changing backdrop of the asteroid belt. Just far enough out of the danger zone to avoid being hit by the chaotic field of rocks. He did not like this at all. Instincts that had seen him survive the One Year War unscathed were screaming that this was trouble with a capital T.

"What do the drones report?"

"Alpha Drone is feeding us the heat sensor readings. Beta Drone is now in position to relay visuals."

"On screen." Sandler settled back in his command chair, turning brooding dark eyes to the main view screen.

The ship was definitely an Ore Carrier he noted. As she revolved slowly on her axis, an uncontrolled though slow tumble in space, he noted a logo on her hull and called for an enhancement. He nodded when the view changed to show the logo of the Patrice Mining Operation and the registration number of the ship.

"Validate Registration as being L1, A3379."

It took only seconds for the ships computers to call up a validation that a vessel registration number L1 A3379, McEvory, did actually exist. It was also listed as missing with an entry date some two months previous. That placed it as a possible salvage bonus for the crew. Patrice Mining was a big player in asteroid mining and would pay well for the return of one of their ships.

Something bothered him, though. It was just not right.

"Proximity alert?" He queried.

"Drones Kappa and Delta report no sign of any other ships in the area to a distance of five thousand kilometers. No jamming of radio. Nearest asteroid is at two thousand, four hundred and twenty seven kilometers. Area is clear, Captain."

It stank to high heaven. He could smell it. Trouble had an odor and he had smelt that stench too often to miss it. Something was very rotten about this whole thing.

"What have you got on the sensors for exhaust emissions?"

"Space is clear. No residue from the engines of the ship, Sir. She's been dead and drifting for at least three days, possibly longer. We do have exhaust emissions from Kappa and Delta Drones."

That was not at all comforting. He just could not shake that itch between his shoulder blades. Either that was a dead hulk with a dead crew, or it was a patsy; bait. A lure for lurking predators. Come investigate me and while you do I will have my compatriots take your ship apart for your cargo. Raider tactics.

His crew, all Oz veterans he had worked with during the One Year War were watching their instruments with varying degrees of distrust. They felt it too. They sensed it. He knew them. Knew their thought processes. It was easy to read the growing tension in their body language. They had been a team for upwards of seven years now. He was not about to ignore the warnings of experience. They had survived too much to go down now from ignoring their instincts.

"Back us off another two thousand k's. Extend sensors to extreme range. Recall Alpha and Beta Drones."

"Aye, aye, Sir. Engines in reverse. Withdrawing to four thousand kilometers. Alpha and Beta Drones acknowledge instructions to return to base ship." Patsy O'Brian was busy at her consol, green eyes on the instruments.

The vibration of the engines picked up and he watched as on the screen the McEvory shrank to a pin point of light. Out the view port the ship was now invisible, not even the odd glint off its metallic hull. He waited. Tensed. It was wrong. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. It was nearing, whatever was wrong with this entire setup.

"Extreme sensor range for the Kappa and Delta Drones. Extending in full three hundred and sixty degree sweep... now."

There was a tense pause as the scanner operator programmed and relayed his instructions to the automated drone satellites and studied his instruments as he received the data. "Contacts. Multiple contacts incoming off our stern side. At the speed they are traveling they will overtake us in fifteen minutes."

"Raiders." He spat. Grinned, a feral grin his crew knew only too well. "Make a run for that Preventer ship we passed about four hours ago. Lay in a course for the closest contact point with the Preventer cruiser. All ahead full. Set Kappa and Delta Drones to fly our course and follow at two thousand kilometers. Are we being Jammed?"

"Affirmative, Sir." The com officer was busy at her consol.

"Bastards. No matter. For pirates those bastards have some damn fine technology. Won't catch us though. Not this time. Derry, Paul, man the lasers. If they get close enough, shoot the bastards out of the ether. Soon as we clear their Jammers, send a message to the Preventers ship. Report the presence of Raiders in this area and the ruse they used. Christ knows how many ships they've caught with that ploy. If their commander's worth his salt he should be calling off the pursuit any time now."

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Dark Star Rising

Raider flag ship.

"Damn. Someone has good instincts." He considered the telemetry readouts and shook his head. The ore ship was pulling away from them, no mean feat considering the power he had at his command. The Dark Star Rising was no snail, but one of the fastest of the ships in the fleet. "Notify the pursuit ships to return to base and bring in the hulk with them. We will be leaving this area immediately on their return."

"Sir? Give up on the target ship?" The woman who turned to him looked her disbelief. She had wanted her first raiding foray into the mining lanes to be a success.

"You heard the order."

Damn the woman anyway. They had successfully trapped four ships and raided two mining outposts on this foray. She was greedy and no doubt would never get to command her own ship if she did not know when to cut her losses.

"The Captain of the freighter sensed the trap. He twigged to the ships coming at him from the rear. From the turn of speed that ships currently displaying, her engines are not stock standard for a freighter either. She's probably armed, too. Learn to read your opponent, woman. How many freighters have you seen with four Drones? No, we let this one go. There will be others."

"Sir." The more experienced com officer half turned to face him. "Recalling all pursuit ships now. We have identification on the freighter confirmed. Ship is identified as Silver Lady, L4 registration No. 667384E. Captained by Derek H. Sandler."

The tall, darkly bearded man barked a laugh. "Derek Horatio Sandler. No wonder." He shook his head and grinned. "Lucky bastard has one hell of a survival instinct. The Silver Lady would carry a number of not so legal modifications, knowing him of old." He sighed, grinning. He appreciated a wily opponent and one day Sandler would make a mistake. Or he would join the Raiders. Not today, though. "Well, we have enough in our holds now to make an early return to base, I suppose. This area of space is likely to get a visit from the mining consortiums police force. Or those bastards, the Preventers. Jam the Silver Lady as long as she is within range. May as well keep her from bleating our presence all over the air waves for as long as possible. How long before the advance ships have the derelict in tow?"

A rhythmic buzzing impinged on the general activity on the bridge. "Proximity alert." from the sensor operator.

"Identify." The Captain demanded.

"Contact lost, Captain. May have been a glitch in the system. Might have been a reflection from a metal heavy asteroid that came too close to the edge of the field. Sensors now give no evidence of a ship in the area. Our database has no identifiable ship in our data storage to match the partial configuration our sensors recorded."

He scowled, glaring at the darkness of space. They were close to the asteroid belt, lurking behind a relatively stable asteroid that was on the far fringe of the belt, out of the heavily populated danger zone. They had given their asteroid haven the terribly inventive name of Shield. They had been here now for near four months and he would admit he was going to be pleased to leave the area.

In the time since they had taken up this position they had experienced too many unexplained contacts on the scanners. In the four months they had been here they had had fifteen contacts that had turned out to have no explanation. Investigations he had ordered into the contacts after the second one had revealed no asteroid, ship, or debris from destroyed ships and stations. No space junk to corrupt their scanners and no computer anomalies to explain the occasional contacts. Just an instant of contact when the computers insisted that something was out there and then nothing. A Ghost. Maybe it was just a spatial anomaly curious to this area, but it gave him a good case of the willies.

He had had enough of space ghosts. They had had a productive tour of duty in the area and it was time to return to base.

"Raider Pursuit ships three to seven will ETA in thirty minutes with the hulk in tow, Sir. Drones one to seven will be in flanking positions at fifteen thousand kilometers in one minute."

"Plot course to Station One and engage course when the ships are secured in the bay. I'll be in my quarters."

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Silver Lady

"Jamming disruption cleared, Captain." The com officer reported. "The com lines are clear."

"Pursuit ships have altered course, Sir. No longer in Pursuit."

Smart Captain. The Raiders were not fools. They were out here to make a profit and expending fuel, time and man power on long range pursuit was not cost effective.

"Send the alert to the Preventers ship, giving them our identity and the location of the trap. It won't be there when they investigate but their presence will oust the raiders from our local area for a while. Paul, Derry, maintain alert for another thirty minutes. If no sign of pursuit, stand down from alert and power down the lasers. If there is no proximity alert issued by the Drones in fifteen minutes, recall the Drones to a one thousand kilometer range."

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Scout Three

"Scout Three to Base. Raider activity in Sector Four has been confirmed. Fish spat in the anglers eye. Expect movement of the Raiders base of operations imminent. Over."

The drop down screen cleared of momentary static to reveal a bearded, chestnut haired young man sporting a wicked grin. "Anglers slipping, Scout Three?"

"Affirmative, Base. The Minnow thumbed its fin at the sharks. Expect word will spread in no time and the school of Sharks will withdraw to a new location ahead of the Piranha coming to investigate."

"Confirmed." He glanced aside at a low voiced comment from someone on the bridge. Nodded in response and looked back to the screen. "Base is receiving an alert from the Silver Lady, L4 registry, to a Preventer cruiser in the area. Return to Base Ship, Scout Three. We will observe using remote scanners for now. No need to chance the Preventers suspecting we are in the neighborhood."

"Scout Three acknowledged. Out."

t.b.c.

Karina Robertson 2004