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~ Space Chances 3 ~
By: Anime Redneck
8-18-03 ~ 9-30-03
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Archive: At meh sites, TDTA & SOGOA, an' FF.net... If'n ye like ta 'ave it, then please ask meh! All ye othas with prior permission ta archive it, go right ahead!
Pairings: hmm if ye donno know wha they beh, ah feel sorra for ye ::smile-smirk:: Tis a surprise, ah'd like ta think, but if'n ye must kno' ah tell ye: 2x1, 5x1.. an' ye can guess at it. ::grins widely laughing::
Disclaimer: I donna own tha Guys.. nor do ah own "Total Eclipse of the Heart" by Bonnie Tyler... but ah do own tha story plot an' Cathal McCree and Geiléis.
"~Lyrics~"
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~oOo@oOo~
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That was it.
It was over; He was gone.
Wasn't it amazing how fast someone could pack everything they own (admittedly not much at all), load their suits and be gone even before you make it to the corridor?
Seeming in the blink of an eye, they were gone. Who knew when I might see them again? It could be days, months, Ancestors forbid, years even. I do not think I would be able to last that long, in waiting to see Him again. Yet I could not stop Him from going... it was something he needed... This much I know, and understand.
A man needs his space to think, explore, and experiment in new things... It is never an easy path in finding where one belongs in life, to do so takes great amounts of courage. I wish Yuy well in his search. May the Fates see fit to reunite us in the near future.
Sighing, sitting once more in the bleak observation room, watching the fading smoke trail from a departing shuttle, I wonder what is to become of me now?
Preventers are offering a nice package. One many would surly accuse me of being "nuts" not to accept. However, that would mean being back in the thick of things - regardless of how small... and I do not wish to be back in such a situation. I refuse to think of this as running away! Chang Wufei does not run away. I am a Scholar. I was never meant to be a Warrior, and yet, even so, it has become a way of life the last two years for me.
I believe now that there will always be fighting of some kind going on; fighting we will never be rid of. I refuse to become a part of that.
The Preventers work against upcoming threats to the fragile peace we now have. This is honorable work to become part of. I would fault neither a man nor woman for joining such a team... it is just not for me... Perhaps... something smaller in the way of prevention? Maybe there is something out in the way of a downscaled organization I could become part of and help. I believe I could be content enough with that. To help a smaller area in need...
There was a place once mentioned in passing some time ago, of being in the most dire of circumstances: gangs running wild, towns in despair, people in need...
I could thrive in a place such as that. To know I would honestly be helping people in need, not just someone who became wrapped up in another's making... Sighing, lowering my head, I wonder if we are not all just playing to another's tune? Will there not always be someone, somewhere, doing one action or another that will affect another person, if not many?
Slouching in the semi-soft padding of the window seat, I watch my eyes reflection flickering in the dim light, noticing how they appear brighter then normal in the star's light.
"~Turn around bright eyes...~" I had murmured half asleep as the body close to mind had stirred, shifting away from me. I had only wanted to see his eyes, one last time, and yet... he would not meet mine, refused to lift his chin and give me a parting gift... to see those ever-bright eyes glimmering for me. Oh how I secretly loved to watch them sparkle in rooms light, the day or stars own lighting... They are a beautiful shade, as deep as the endless seas, and bright as the skies fading navy blue.
I suppose I should be content with what he did gift me though. I had nearly thought I had not heard him correctly. His back was hunched over just so much from his wounds the stubborn ass refused to get looked at, except for my poking and prodding to tame the worry in me... hmph. Gojo na baka Heero Yuy. His right arm he hugged close to his side as he walked away from me, stopping briefly as the door slid open, eyes turning back to glance at me whispering, "~Every now and then I fall apart...~" I hadn't known when he left, what that small line might have meant. But I think, perhaps, now I do understand what he meant by that.
Heero Yuy was human; he understood that now.
He had finally come to connect ends together of questions that had always plagued him - I have no doubts he has more - but for now, some were answered. For example: What was his purpose in life? What was he living for? Why were they all fighting? And others...
Everyone possesses questions about their lives, where they're supposed to be, what they're to do, why their here? All these are fine. Many never find the answers though. Yuy has now been enlightened with answers to his questions... perhaps a few of them at any rate.
We fight because it is in human's nature to fight. To war and see who is strongest, to see which sides ideals were correct - to bring nations together. Some things, I have come to learn, cannot have a conclusion drawn without fighting - no matter how much one tries to go around such an outcome. Yuy now knew the limits his body could take before breaking, knew he was not the "invincible" Perfect Soldier to which everyone teased or thought him to be. Yuy's fighting had given him a purpose in life, seeming the only one he had: To fight and win freedom for the Colonies was his purpose, his life...
A small smile tugs at my lips on my next thought.
It is true... fighting is all Heero has ever known in his life, all his purpose was for... and yet now... now he has people whom care for him, love and cherish him as a friend, a brother. People he can call on when in need, or whenever he has the rare need to just speak to someone. He has those whom consider him family and understand him. Fighting the wars had changed Heero Yuy from the Perfect Soldier, to Heero Yuy, a simple exceptionally trained human soldier. He shed his Soldier exterior to let his Humanity shine through...
Ahh... but the night of space grows old and my thoughts weary if they keep treading down the paths they now wonder.
I have research to perform, a place to find, a new location to settle into before the next eve is to come. I have a purpose in life also. One I am still seeking, and will undoubtedly find... but until then, I have work to do...
I suppose more sleep is in order before I attempt finding anything... if I do not, I fear I will have that blonde twisted-haired onna breathing down my back about unreasonable youths and stubborn fools... Chuckling I stand and head back to my quarters for much needed rest.
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~ * @ * ~
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It was going to be one of those nights again. The puffy man with salting hair sighed as he settled his more-then-appropriate-weight-for-his-age down into the plush darkly furnished chair. Why was it again that Rookies always had to be brash, stubborn as hell, gung ho and hearing-impaired?
Honestly. Was there so much a problem that listening to your commanding officer every once in a while - God forbid everyday! - was such a demoting thing? When had following orders start meaning one was going to be seen as a 'pet' in the Rookie Ring, instead of a good officer?
Giving his head a shake the kind old man sighed heavily. All be damned if he knew when things started going down the drain... But be damned he wasn't when one stupid fool got hurt for acting without thinking. It would nearly take the impossible threat of the station's colony being under a meteor shower before those kids got their heads out of their asses and started listening to their elders... As the old saying goes... "Come Hell of high water" those damn Rookies were going to learn, and learn fast who to listen to and what rule to follow, or their asses would be off the force quicker then mercury on a hot day.
Ahh, but what could you do? They were young and stupid... they'd learn sooner (hopefully rather then later) what needed to be done and how. He'd only be there to, uncharacteristically, tell them he told them so. Chuckling, a smile tugging at the not-so-old-young-man's face, settling back into his seat pulling papers forward he sighed again. So much work to be done; so little competent people working for him to do it.
"Chief! Hey Chief!!" a voice shouted not twenty minutes into his working, startling the poor man, robbing him of half his life expectancy.
Chief Cathal McCree's1 entire body jolted as his calmly shut door suddenly flew open slamming into the wall behind it. Luckily, he wasn't a man of weary nerves and had himself back together in record time before the young rookie could notice anything; even the still twitching of his writing hand splayed across the page he had been writing on, now sporting a nice long blue slash across half of it. But damn that boy was loud!
"Wha' is it Giles?" he asked, voice stern, "An' 'ave ah nae asked ye, among otha's, many times ta refrain from slammin' me door open? T'ere is such a concept as knockin'." The young redhead started to open his mouth but Chief McCree wasn't having it. "Nae excuses. Even in times of crises..." when weren't they ever in one? "...one would be reminded ta kno' before enterin' anotha's room."
Taking a steady breath McCree sighed, setting aside his ruined report, "Now. Wha' a'pears ta beh tha problem this time?"
Face burning a steady red the young man could feel pulsing in his cheeks, Giles had the good sense to look sheepish and not a little bit downtrodden at the news he carried from getting reprimanded. He was a Rookie, it was true, but he always tried his best to be good... There just always seemed to be something he forgot, or did, that got him a speaking to from someone higher up then he, if not a teasing comment or two from the other Rookies.
Still, he liked his commanding officer.
Chief Cathal McCree was a kind man in his late forties, had a slightly rounding stomach from time spent behind the desk and age catching up to him. He was Scottish, there was no mistaking it with that red hair, green eyes and accent, even the slight freckling of his face and arms; he stood a good 5'9" and was the best officer they had on the force, aside from a few choice other higher ups that Giles had taken a liking to... Someone he could look up to and hope to strive to be like them.
"Erm... I'm terribly sorra Sir..." God, why did he always stutter and stop when placed in these situations? "...but there seems ta beh a problem down in the armory room, Sir."
An arched brow met the question, "A problem Giles? Wha' sort o' problem?" Why did all the Rookies seem to speak in codes the "Old Ones" didn't know? He liked Giles, honestly he did. He was a smart boy, only twenty-three, was Irish, spoke with a light accent, had good manners (though they had a tendency to disappear in times of need) and followed rules as best he could. He'd be a good cop one day, but now... McCree sighed.
"Yes Sir!" crisp solute. "Sorra Sir, Reddings didn't tell meh tha details just that I should get you, an' fast Sir." Tilting his head in an un-official way Giles thought for a moment. "I think... I think I heard Walters an' Smith goin' on about someone causin' a ruckus down there though..." he could be wrong, of course, but chances of that were slim to none at the moment.
"Indeed." Giles nodded, waiting for orders.
Walters and Smith, eh? Why did that not surprise him? The other two Rookies he had an eye on... they were bright, like Giles, yet lacked the common sense to use it in most cases. Sad really... they needed all the competent officers they could get on L2. Depressing part was - the good ones had sense enough to transfer to one of the other colonies - they didn't want to work in the "Bottoms", as their precious colony had earned the title of.
Sighing once again as he stood, McCree allowed young Giles to show him the way. "Please, lead on" waving a hand before him.
"Yes Sir!" turning sharply, Giles made sure everyone moved from their path so they could reach the room on the second sublevel quicker.
The sounds around them grew into a mass jumble of things. People shouting, metal hitting metal, even steel, there was the sound of guns going off once or twice that had Chief McCree seeing flames.
That was a No-No. A mighty big No-No.
You did not fire your side arm in the building. Ever. Unless it was being taken over by terrorist. Then, and only then, was it an exception to fire a gun in the building. You didn't even attempt that with an escaping captive, you used a stun gun. That way, if you weren't good enough an aim, at least your other officers were only out temporarily with a headache when they awoke, and not missing some needed limb, or possessing a hold in their being.
Louder the noises became, the higher the Scottish man's ire rose. The people shouting, talking, steel on steel... was giving him a massive bloody headache! "Oh Hola Motha, please give those brainless enough ta cause such racket sense to stop soon, or forgive meh fir tha 'ell ah'm about ta lay down..." whispering, taking deep breaths in trying to calm himself McCree stepped foot into the room in question - or tried to. There were so many bodies crowding the one entrance into the armory supply that he couldn't even see what their eyes were trained on, surly not the one supposed to be causing all this mess in his station!
Well... he wasn't standing for it. He knew damn well those idiots had jobs to be doing and they were damn well going to do them!
Taking his cap from it's buckled place at his side, he whapped the nearest man upside the head with it. "Wha in tha Bloody 'Ell's goin' on 'ere!?" he bellowed, taking immense pleasure in watching the forms of those currently in front of him (mostly the one his hat smacked) blocking his way, jump startled and try turning at the same time. From years of experience, McCree took a step back, not wishing to be busted in the chin again. "Ah've neva seen such gangious stupidity in one spot before! Ye've got jobs ta beh doin'! An' ah rightly suggest ye go do 'em before ye catch yerselves on yer asses without one!" waving an arm for those that turned startled, "Move on, now! Ah'll handle this!"
Good Lord man... he thought watching them scatter like scolded children, Wha' in the 'ell 'ad 'em firin' off damned weapons in station!? Never were they to do that. And they knew as such! That's what pissed him off. And he was having a relatively good day so far... It never lasted. Never. He should know this after over a decade on the force.
The masses cleared out quick enough, McCree picturing some with tails tucked between their legs and finding himself trying not to snicker at them all. Ohh, they were a bunch of wee babes! Heaven help him as he lightly pushed the last one away, closing the door and turning around to face his nemeses of... a mere strapping lad sitting on stacked rifle carts. A wee lad and they were causing this entire ruckus?? Well, he silently amended scanning over the boy: a wee lad with a sword.
Sighing softly, head shaking, McCree took a step forward and eyed the boy once more. He couldn't be anymore then seventeen, Asian - Chinese if his memory served him rightly. They didn't see many Asian folk in this neck of Space. He had shiny, soft looking hair pulled back into a tight tail at the nape of his neck, slanted, up tilted eyes of the darkest midnight he'd ever seen, soft curving cheeks of sun kissed caramel and tight lined lips, made up the dear boys face. He was dressed in a soft gray tank top tucked into puffy white pants that were held up by a navy blue sash tied around his waist and tight ankle cuffs at the bottom; his shoulders were squared off in a defensive look, his legs folded beneath him in such a way, that if the young one needed to be afoot quickly, he could do so without problems. Currently, his hands lied in his lap, clasped together as if he didn't have a care in the world - observing his slim frame and demeanor, McCree had the thought that, maybe he didn't.
Sigh. Either way, this was not the place to talk to the boy in. McCree certainly didn't pose him a threat, didn't wish to, now nor later, and the other seemed to sense this fact. Incautiously striding tiredly forward holding out his hand to the side a few seconds, McCree gave a fatherly smile. "'Ello laddie" voice soft as the years and grandkids had made it, "Will ye please follow meh? Let us speak somewhere more comfortable, eh?"
Eyeing the elder man, whom seemed to be in charge of the idiots this station held and dared called 'Officers', if the way they scrambled from the room was any indication of who was in charge. Wufei smirked inwardly watching them nearly run from the room again in his mind.
This man, their commanding officer, held a benevolent look about him, his smile was warm and caring, his eyes crinkling ever so much in the corners as he did so, creating small crow's feet.
Blinking rapidly to rid himself of unwanted tears, Wufei's minds eye flashed several pictures of the deceased Elders whom ran his Clan, some of whom had taken care of him for short periods during his life... By the Gods he missed them all! They were his Clan, his people, his friends and most importantly, his Family. Whatever status they held did not matter, they were all held dear to him, in his heart, even if they knew it not. This man, look very much like the ones he held dear... but for his ancestry was of the Irish or Scottish decent, not his own Chinese.
The young one stood gracefully, a movement, which showed his Scottish soul how much training the young lad must have been put through. Giving a small bow from his waist, a tipping of his head the lad let McCree know he was ready to follow after retrieving his white top from a rack of bunt tip loaded rifles. Smiling, a small shake of his head and a sweeping of his arm towards the door, McCree gladly led his new visitor out of the weapons room, locking it, and led the way back to his office, glaring at all those (except Giles) to look their way.
Amusing. It did not go without his noticing, how quick other officers were to look their way, catch sight of something that was other then himself, and look away again. Wufei held no doubts that the man walking purposefully in front of him was giving quite the Look to his subordinates warningly. Kind and caring people always held a silent demanding side: just look at Winner. He was a perfect little Angel until some poor fool tried harming his Peace, Friends or Family... then ZERO kicked into action and the Angel transformed into a raging Little Devil - until his people were safe, then he calmed back into his Angel half - usually with a certain Europeans help, of course.
"'Ere we are." The accented voice knocking him from his musing Wufei glanced up in time to see the larger man's frame covering a plate on the door stating 'McCree'. Definitely Scottish. Giving a thankful nod stepping in and to the side so the man, McCree he reminded himself, could close the door, onyx eyes took in the tasteful furnishings. An oak desk, matching dark fitted plush chair, two other lesser chairs sat in front of the desk for visitors, there was a coat rack set to the left of the door, two file cabinets to either side of the desk... There appeared to be a cadenza set along the back wall behind the desk with stacks of paperwork scattered around a single green tinted lamp, a sister to the one sitting on the man's desk; also piled high with work.
Either this man was slow on getting his work done - a thought that did not sit well with his attitude, or there was more then one man was able to handle... more that, one would suspect, others could handle... But that did not seem to be the case here... Or perhaps there were others that could have done the work yet refused to... so instead of having to spend (what Wufei thought must be hours) arguing with the person to get the work done, he took it all upon himself? Honorable, if not stupid for wearing himself out... yet still an honorable action.
"Please, 'ave a seat laddie. Will ye like some tea or other thin's? We've some made ah can get ye." McCree smiled, waiting for the others answer before sitting.
Another small bow, shaking his head as he sat, "No thank you" his eyes roamed once more to the stacks of paperwork. Pathetic. If he was right in his assumptions, this station truly did need a hurricane of re-ordering.
"Ah'm uh..." watching the older man scratch the back of his neck, obviously flustered about the happening, and a small amount embarrassed about it, made Wufei crack a small smile. It was... enduring? to see such a man of standing do such a childish thing. Something that Maxwell had a tendency to do when nervous or in trouble. Maxwell... Yuy... Damn him to hell he wasn't supposed to be thinking about him! "...Sorra fir tha otha's actions... it wasnae right of 'em..."
"Understandable though, I would think, of finding someone had broken into the armored supply room..." he smirked, "A room to which there is only one door to enter thru, and a ventilation shaft that appeared small, even to me, to want to use."
Finding the lad's response humorous if not a bit humbling, McCree gave another of his age-warmed smiles. "Beh tha as it may... They shouldna been firin' arms at ye!" his voice hardened with previous ire, "They could've hit ye!"
The man's anger was justly placed. Those idiots firing at him could, perhaps with proper aiming, hit him. But the chances of that happening with only just Academy training to fall back on were slim to none. However, the thought that someone cared for him, even if just as a civilian in the wrong place, was strangely warming.
"Do not trouble yourself on it, Sir. I can assure you, they could do me no harm." Setting his katana in the other seat, holding his arms out to the side Wufei smirked, "As you can clearly see, there is no harm done. Though, if you do not mind my recommending it; I would suggest sending half of those that were present, back to the Academy to train once more."
"Indeed!" with a bark of laughter McCree slapped his leg grinning, "By meh Motha laddie, ah like ye!"
The Chinese boy simply smiled in return, watching him.
"Ahh... Ye donno kno' 'ow ah beh needin' tha laugh taday lad... heh, ye donno kno'..." head shaking, hands moving to collect pages placing them in the proper stacks McCree grinned. "M'sorra! Ah dinna introduce mehself!" chuckling he extending a hand, "M'ah names Cathal McCree, Chief Cathal McCree... buh ye just call meh Cathal, eh? Mr. McCree or just plain McCree makes meh feel old!" giving a wink for his comment, Cathal smiled watching the other chortle softly shaking his hand.
Chuckling as he shook Chief Cathal McCree's hand, Wufei gave a small smile, noting the man's hand was nicely warm in the seeming coolness of the room. "Cathal it is then" nodding slightly, "My name is Chang Wufei of the L5 Colony."
"Is it now?" Cathal raised an eyebrow at the name, his voice surprise, but no vocal of disbelief colored it, just his plain shock at hearing that name. "Well then it beh meh honor to 'ave met the last heir of the Dragon Clan then, Chang Wufei." Cathal kept his voice low and calming, knowing loosing ones whole family, let alone their Colony, must have been more then what all of Hell could think up. "Would it beh alright if'n ah just called ye Wufei? Or, would Chang beh better? M'sorra lad... we donno get ta see many Oriental people 'round these parts, 'fraid ah might beh offendin' yeh or sumthin'..."
He was scratching his neck again; Wufei chuckled to his self, and fiddling with his pen while looking at him. Giving a slight shake of his head, wondering how a man of his age could act and appear a child, he nodded, "Wufei would be fine, Cathal, and to some, calling a person by their first name without consent would be seen as offence... but I do not mind if you do so."
And the sentence alone told the older man that Wufei would not be kept silent if someone else choose to use his name without permission. Cathal actually caught himself hoping he was there to watch the action of the first to take that mistake.
"heh Ah thank ye laddie!" slight tipping of his head, "So, can ah ask ye, what ye were doin' sittin' in our armory then?" Asking how he got to be there was a voided question. Many never knew, hopefully would never know, who the five were that piloted the massive giants known as Gundams, the machines that dwarfed the normal MS's. A special few however, had come to handle the sensitive information. People who had a hand in forming large groups, such as the Preventers, Heads of the Colonies, close friends and family to those whom had made contact with them and lived, for whatever reasons after it.
Cathal fell into two of those options; he had friends higher up in the armies that fought, such as a young Lieutenant that used to work for OZ before "seeing the light of five young boys" as the good lass put it. Or one could consider his hand (among others of the older police officers whom held military background) in helping small ways to build the Preventers operations manual, so to speak. But mainly it was by his brother's cousin Noin that he knew of the "Five Wonders" Noin's playful name for them all.
Observing the man's face as he thought of what may have passed his mind, the Chinese boys brows furrowed of his own thinking.
It had essentially taken him longer then should have been needed to remember whom had mentioned the place in need to him - which turned out to be anywhere on L2, yet mainly where Maxwell had grown up.
With Sally Po's helping him, it was a day and a half after gathering all the needed information on the station, employee's and the current situation of the surrounding area. His surprise had come in learning that Maxwell's stories of the L2 colony were dead on. He had no qualms of the unlikely chance the American was lying to him, for it was not in his self pointed code of living to lie to people... However, coming from a wealthy, up kept colony, it was startling to see that people would let such a place go to shambles.
The Dragling was sure, as it was, that the only parts responsible for holding the L2 colony in Space now was the outside hauls and frames. Inside, was a literal war zone. Gangs fought over nearly every territory, spec of land - except where the people whom still held money were able to concentrate the main of the police force. It was downright despicable how people could let their homes get like that!
Coming from a wealthy and well-kept colony did not deplete his understanding and knowing that if half of the wealthy owners on L2 had gotten together, they could have kept the colony in a relatively healthy shape. Could have built a few more shelters for the unlucky people without places to call home, could have saved so many more lives... By the Ancestors there were even funds to request to be helped by! And no one, not nearly enough, had even thought to ask for them - as was found out by his research. Wufei's fast flying fingers (admittedly not as quick as His hands) had only found three people whom had tried requesting help and been turned away from it.
A Mr. Sandree of the Brighter Futures Learning Center and Shelter. Then a few months later by a Sister Helen and Father Maxwell from Maxwell's Church... heaving a great sigh of sadness that seemed to overwhelm him at the thought that these, were the same people who had a hand in raising Maxwell, who helped to shape his future, and had lost their lives, among the lives of innocent children when the Alliance attacked them. It seemed the only good caring people on L2 had died in either the war between the Alliance and OZ, or by the street gangs' hands.
Wufei slid in his chair, leaning against the back of it tiredly, bonelessly. There was no, nor should he ever expect there to be, animosity between he and Maxwell. He trusted the American impeccably with his very life. Maxwell he could tell returned this trust, if not by saying it outright, then by gifting the Dragon - gifting them all - with the secrets of his past. Maybe that was why, in part, Wufei was sitting in a chair in the office of L2's Chief of the 38th Precinct. The thought of helping those where Maxwell grew up, to give them a chance the braided warrior had and lost, for a better future. Maybe in his own thinking Wufei had conjured up, that by helping these poor people, his own need (half of it) would be fulfilled; the other half was unsurely left in Fates gentle hands.
Glancing up at the elder man whose eyes shimmered kindly, curiously, hands folded atop his desk as if it was a natural habit, had Wufei's nerves that were bunched up, tensed as if he were going into a battle, loosen and calm. Letting his own clasped hands slide to his sides absently as his muscles relaxed, Wufei leaned forward speaking, "I had come seeking the one responsible for this station" cracking a small smile from his serious look for the elder, "in the off chance I might be of some help in reforming this area. Do pardon me, Sir, but it is in dire need of transforming... more then what you or your men seem capable of."
Arching a fiery red brow at the last part McCree smirked inclining his head slightly. "Indeed." The last part, for any other, would be taken as a slight to his or her training, as offense that they couldn't handle what had them put here to do. Alas, McCree did not possess an inflated ego and knew right well when he was had on something... and he, along with his men, were most defiantly had on trying to "reform" as the young man put it, this area.
Having been stationed in the very same spot for the last ten years seemed a very long time all a sudden, when faced with the young man before him, offering to add his knowledge and training to fix the problem of gangs, hookers, drug dealers... everything.
His men and women, Lord bless their sorry hearts, had tried their damnedest time and again to get them off the streets, in jail, in reform houses... all of it - only to be pushed back into hiding in their precinct. They were hard pressed to handle all that roamed the streets. Some Cathal remembered hearing their place compared to the rougher parts of Neo New York. He couldn't disagree there; not much had changed from times ago to the present.
The plain and simple fact was that they desperately needed all the help they could get. His people were brave and held honor. They would lay their lives down to get the job done. However, Chief McCree had no intentions of letting them loose their lives while under his care. If things got too rough, they were to pull back. Normal stations weren't run this way. If things got rough, they got rough, no real matter to what was injured or lost, as long as the job was done.
That. Was if you were on a regular up kept station. This, needless to say, was L2 - and one did not receive the same support as the other Space Colonies. If they lost people, they lost people. That was it. End of complaining. They could request backup 'til their faces turned blue and eyes popped out - they wouldn't get it. Everyone knew what shambles the L2 station was in and had no honestly interest into getting mixed up with it. The brave one, the ones looking for a good challenge and fight - those people came here. Bless their hearts, even those with the minimal training, knowing very well how hurt they could get on the job, but containing a pure heart that honestly wanted to help people, came once in a while.
The answer Cathal had been searching for for the better part of his service, of how to clean up and restore what they could of L2 - was quite literally sitting across the desk from him.
Chang Wufei of the L5 Colony. Last heir to the long Dragon Clan - could quite possibly save their small colony - with not a little bit of help. Every person in their precinct would have to go through new training, have to take a class in thinking like the Street Folk do - ruthlessly. It sounded harsh even to his own ears, to have to say what he already knew, but Cathal was a man of little illusions.
What better person could you get to teach a mere building full of civilians when compared, to battle the Streets? Where could you find someone with more training then the best Military General in less then half the years? Who could you possibility get with a thought process quicker then normal; a mind that can think like and out do the best street smart gangster?
You could look to the ends of the Earth and Space for such a person... but you would never find one better then a ex-Gundam pilot. To have someone with training that would make a normal person pale in color of fear, to have killed during the wars with only their seventeen years to hold them... making them hardened, ruthless soldiers... yet to still onto some hope of life and some sort of childish air among them?
Ohh nae. Nae, he would not say that the Gundam pilots are in any way childish... at least, not that they would recognize any of it. Cathal was sure the only one that showed any sort of childishness around anyone else would be the pilots' of Sandrock and Deathscythe Hell. Duo and Quatre, weren't they? Yes, that braided boy with the striking violet eyes, was most definitely a child at most times; Quatre, the sweet blonde just held a childish air around him that would likely fool others into believing that he'd never known the war, had never participated in it. Bloody hell! Even been one to help his comrades *win* it!
Nae. Whether the pilots showed the child that sill lived within or not, it was there... nestled right beside its pitiless soldier half. That, is what made them the best there was alive. Some called them "ruthless" and some would most certainly kick the well rounded ass of the person that dared to call a Gundam pilot such. What so divided the Gundam pilots from the "best of the best" in anything dealing with war... Was that most of them out there would do bloody *anything* to complete their missions. Even if that meant killing people that needn't have been. That. Is what lets the Gundam pilots be in a league of their own. They would no more harm an innocent then shoot their own friends. Mentally snickering Cathal added; first time meetings aside!
Sobering from his wondering thoughts, sitting upright in his seat to eye the youth before him, Cathal cracked a fatherly smile for him. Perhaps it was his already being a grandfather that made him have a liking for the young man... or more so it was the courage he possessed to keep fighting even when the Eve Wars were over... This time putting his knowledge of killing/battling skills to better use - to clean up and better many lives in the darkest part of the Space Colonies. All of the Gundam pilots, he knew, would jump at the chance to do something like this if something wasn't currently holding them down.
"Wufei lad... Ah canna tell ye wha' it means ta meh personally ta 'ear ye wan'ta 'elp out 'ere in our wee part o' space..." giving a soft chuckle shaking his head, "Ah kno' it might sound funny from a ol' man like mehself, but ah beh thinkin' this here is meh 'ome... may not everyone in it... but ye kno' wha' ah'm tryin' ta say lad?" he asking tilting his head slightly, watching as the Chinese youth's eyes went shady with puzzlement then shinned with an inner knowledge just gifted him.
There was little in the world that had yet to be seen by people who fought in wars. Once you were in them, Ancestors disregard the 'how' of getting into them, one will eventually see all there is. It might be the places you've visited, the people you've met... To the Dragon of L5 it was the Hearts of Men, which his soul searched for, judged and learned from.
Fighting had been a form of revenge for him. Revenge for his people, his Colony... his Wife, Meilan. Fighting was his way of honoring those who have died to get him where he is today - Peace. So many sacrifices had been made to assure his life was kept his own; to make sure he was able to step onto the battlefield and win their lives back... to free them from Wars grasp.
During his dance with the battlefield the raging Dragon watched with open eyes the darkest of men's souls in action; had the chance to see just what Man was truly capable of... and did not like it in the least. There was however, the very few bright souls on his very battlefield that shocked the young Dragling. How could someone pure fight and still stay as such? People like Sally Po. A crazy onna with bright hopes for the future, a good honest heart with a strong will that would challenge any mans to get done what she had to in the fastest, safest way she could. Another onna, Lucrezia Noin, perhaps just as every bit crazy as the other, yet Wufei had found her to be both an honorable and equal fighter... one whom fought beside her ungiven love to make sure he did not go out and "get his ass blown off".
There were others he had found like them, like himself... four others whom now held the honor of being his Brothers... his new family. Special people he would happily give his life for if it were to save their own. It was, in a sense, the deepest relationship anyone could have with another. How many people could honestly, truthfully, say they would give their life for another without any second thoughts? Without any hesitation? There were not many like this out in the world today... there would most likely not be many more... But his family was such a people... even the extended versions... Milliardo Peacecraft, the crazy old coot Howard... As hard as it was to believe in this new time of peace, with all they had been through during their training... even their Doctors, Professors and his Instructor would gladly give their lives to save them, their surrogate sons (truly not a stranger fact had been known!), if not just to atone for the Hell they were put thru.
The man sitting before him, Chief Cathal McCree, had seen action in his day. Has known the horrors of fighting, has witnessed for himself the darkest parts of ones soul... and yet still, there was a bright light in his heart that had never died within the darkness... A small, honest to God happy smile lit his Chinese features as he though: There is even childness left in his warm old soul. And it was that childness which reached out to him, which made the kind grandfather of a man stumble over his words in asking for him, trying to describe what this poor colony meant to him.
Wufei understood.
It was not Chief Cathal McCree's home. Cathal came from another colony, another place well up kept and clean. He had been assigned to the 38th Precinct in his younger years and somehow, had grown to love the place despite the blatant darkness threatening to swallow it whole. Cathal's soul seemed to be crying out to help all those he had seen wondering the streets without a home, without family to turn to and with no shelters in sight to help them even in the smallest of ways.
The Dragon of L5 was no kid. He had no illusions of his limits of what he alone could accomplish. He could not, alone, hope to better this dark colony. It had taken hours, days of thinking, pondering, what he alone could do to help this place. It had come to him (with soft nudges from crazy women) some time before to help train those that were willing. Training a few, trusting them with that knowledge to go back and train a few more... He could get many people a better martial arts knowing then all of what the Academy could ever hope to offer. It would take that and more to achieve what they all hoped to do.
It would take years of work; but this would be a start.
Wufei had other ideas, strings he could pull to bring in more help without problems. Knew those that would literally jump at the chance to help others in need... And he intended to pull on those strings when the time was right... after he and his new comrades had cleaned the streets up of the worst parasites. Then, and only then, would the real work begin.
"Cathal" the smooth, light tenor startled the other from the stillness of his office, "Be the truth known that I do fully understand what you are trying to tell me. This is your home, and as such, it pains you to see others hurting, knowing there is no way possible now, that you are able to help them all - let alone a good small part of them."
"Aye."
"I shall help you - them - with the best of what I am."
Swallowing the lump suddenly formed in his old throat Cathal nodded slowly, as if his head were in a jug of syrup and was hard to move, when in fact it was his emotions stilling him from commenting, from doing much of anything as the realization sunk into his mind. They had a chance. They had an honest to God, bloody chance to turn this place around! Good Mary mother of God there was a living miracle sitting in front of his old soul.
"Th-thank ye laddie... Oh by meh motha, thank ye Lonán." Eyes widening at the new name for his space sent angel, Cathal smiled fully. It just popped in there, but by God did the name fit him well! Standing sharply, noticing he startled the youth and chuckling Cathal started shoving things into his satchel before looking up, wide smile still in place. "Do ye 'ave a place ta stay Lonán?"
Lonán? Blinking curiously at the name, wondering just a few moments what it meant, Wufei only caught the question before shaking his head. "I have a hotel room booked, Cathal I'll-"
"Nae!" snorting, head shaking Cathal was having none of that. "Nae! Ah canna 'ave ye stayin' there! Bloody 'ell man! Ye beh offerin' ta 'elp save this place from all tha damned darkness 'round it... Nae, ye beh comin' with meh!" Oh Heaven help him but Geiléis* was going to have his read half-baked for this one! At that the Scottish man's smile turned into an impish grin. This was going to be fun!
The man's refusal to let him stay where he wanted blew across Wufei's feathers the wrong way just so much... like the way Maxwell's jokes tended to go. The twinkle in forest green eyes, heightened color of... excitement? on his high cheekbones, somehow managed to defuse the Dragons rising confused ire, replacing it with a sort of child's curiousness he had found blooming more and more when the thought of true peace settled home a bit more. It was the man's fatherly looks which did the Chinese youth in however... that look of kind warmth from him, the sort he only ever saw from his family, friends and his late wife. It made him feel needed again, wanted... and he found himself nodding dumbly to Cathal while picking up his katana to attach at his waist before reaching for his bag and over coat.
"Wonderful! Ohhh just wait 'til ye meet ol' Geiléis! She'll 'ave a field day with ye!" laughing merrily slapping the youth on the back as his other hand held the door open, Cathal led them from his office into the front. It was early yet, he shouldn't be calling it a night for nearly three more hours, but there was much better things to be taking care of at the moment.
Stopping in the middle of a rather large room with people bustling around to all corners, Cathal let out a shrill whistle that had everyone putting on their breaks, turning or craning their necks to see him. "Listen up everyone! Ah've an announcement! Ah'm leavin' early. Ah want each of ye 'ere in the morn bright an' early! We've got us some new trainin' ta beh 'ad if'n we want ta take back our 'ome!"
Shocked, confused silence met his words. Then, like the striking of impending thunder, the room erupted into shouts of hope and glee. The eyes of those that had been dull and lifeless seemed to spark a new light within'... the light of hope.
Winking at his small friend, Cathal led the way once more, "Come along Lonán, Geiléis beh gettin'' reade ta make dinner 'bout this time... lessa we go surprise 'er eh?" with another kind smile, a gentle little shove to his back, Wufei found himself smiling as he was led to what would be, for no known amount of time, his new home.
Maybe, there truly was hope left for him.
And maybe, just maybe, the rest of what he sought would also come true.
.
~oOo~ * ~oOo~ * ~oOo~ * ~oOo~
'
1. Cathal (m) - KA hul - Meaning; strong in battle
2. Geiléis (f) - gyel AISH - Meaning; bright swan
An' 'ere's the next chapter to SC! heh Ah beh sorra it took meh so long ta get done. honestla... Ah tried, but writin' dinna seem ta beh with meh much this last few weeks... If'n it did, it was small ideas... but as ye can see, ah did manage to get this done tonight! heh Ah'm proud, ah dinna even get ta read anything else while doing it. A great success if'n ye ask me... Readin's a great distraction for meh. ^__^;;
Please review and lemma kno' 'ow ye beh likin' it so far, ne? Ah'd greatly appreacite it. Now, ah'm off ta read something a little before hittin' the sack... never mind it's 2am now. ^__~
Keep it kickin'!
~ Anime Redneck
~ Space Chances 3 ~
By: Anime Redneck
8-18-03 ~ 9-30-03
'
Archive: At meh sites, TDTA & SOGOA, an' FF.net... If'n ye like ta 'ave it, then please ask meh! All ye othas with prior permission ta archive it, go right ahead!
Pairings: hmm if ye donno know wha they beh, ah feel sorra for ye ::smile-smirk:: Tis a surprise, ah'd like ta think, but if'n ye must kno' ah tell ye: 2x1, 5x1.. an' ye can guess at it. ::grins widely laughing::
Disclaimer: I donna own tha Guys.. nor do ah own "Total Eclipse of the Heart" by Bonnie Tyler... but ah do own tha story plot an' Cathal McCree and Geiléis.
"~Lyrics~"
.
~oOo@oOo~
'
That was it.
It was over; He was gone.
Wasn't it amazing how fast someone could pack everything they own (admittedly not much at all), load their suits and be gone even before you make it to the corridor?
Seeming in the blink of an eye, they were gone. Who knew when I might see them again? It could be days, months, Ancestors forbid, years even. I do not think I would be able to last that long, in waiting to see Him again. Yet I could not stop Him from going... it was something he needed... This much I know, and understand.
A man needs his space to think, explore, and experiment in new things... It is never an easy path in finding where one belongs in life, to do so takes great amounts of courage. I wish Yuy well in his search. May the Fates see fit to reunite us in the near future.
Sighing, sitting once more in the bleak observation room, watching the fading smoke trail from a departing shuttle, I wonder what is to become of me now?
Preventers are offering a nice package. One many would surly accuse me of being "nuts" not to accept. However, that would mean being back in the thick of things - regardless of how small... and I do not wish to be back in such a situation. I refuse to think of this as running away! Chang Wufei does not run away. I am a Scholar. I was never meant to be a Warrior, and yet, even so, it has become a way of life the last two years for me.
I believe now that there will always be fighting of some kind going on; fighting we will never be rid of. I refuse to become a part of that.
The Preventers work against upcoming threats to the fragile peace we now have. This is honorable work to become part of. I would fault neither a man nor woman for joining such a team... it is just not for me... Perhaps... something smaller in the way of prevention? Maybe there is something out in the way of a downscaled organization I could become part of and help. I believe I could be content enough with that. To help a smaller area in need...
There was a place once mentioned in passing some time ago, of being in the most dire of circumstances: gangs running wild, towns in despair, people in need...
I could thrive in a place such as that. To know I would honestly be helping people in need, not just someone who became wrapped up in another's making... Sighing, lowering my head, I wonder if we are not all just playing to another's tune? Will there not always be someone, somewhere, doing one action or another that will affect another person, if not many?
Slouching in the semi-soft padding of the window seat, I watch my eyes reflection flickering in the dim light, noticing how they appear brighter then normal in the star's light.
"~Turn around bright eyes...~" I had murmured half asleep as the body close to mind had stirred, shifting away from me. I had only wanted to see his eyes, one last time, and yet... he would not meet mine, refused to lift his chin and give me a parting gift... to see those ever-bright eyes glimmering for me. Oh how I secretly loved to watch them sparkle in rooms light, the day or stars own lighting... They are a beautiful shade, as deep as the endless seas, and bright as the skies fading navy blue.
I suppose I should be content with what he did gift me though. I had nearly thought I had not heard him correctly. His back was hunched over just so much from his wounds the stubborn ass refused to get looked at, except for my poking and prodding to tame the worry in me... hmph. Gojo na baka Heero Yuy. His right arm he hugged close to his side as he walked away from me, stopping briefly as the door slid open, eyes turning back to glance at me whispering, "~Every now and then I fall apart...~" I hadn't known when he left, what that small line might have meant. But I think, perhaps, now I do understand what he meant by that.
Heero Yuy was human; he understood that now.
He had finally come to connect ends together of questions that had always plagued him - I have no doubts he has more - but for now, some were answered. For example: What was his purpose in life? What was he living for? Why were they all fighting? And others...
Everyone possesses questions about their lives, where they're supposed to be, what they're to do, why their here? All these are fine. Many never find the answers though. Yuy has now been enlightened with answers to his questions... perhaps a few of them at any rate.
We fight because it is in human's nature to fight. To war and see who is strongest, to see which sides ideals were correct - to bring nations together. Some things, I have come to learn, cannot have a conclusion drawn without fighting - no matter how much one tries to go around such an outcome. Yuy now knew the limits his body could take before breaking, knew he was not the "invincible" Perfect Soldier to which everyone teased or thought him to be. Yuy's fighting had given him a purpose in life, seeming the only one he had: To fight and win freedom for the Colonies was his purpose, his life...
A small smile tugs at my lips on my next thought.
It is true... fighting is all Heero has ever known in his life, all his purpose was for... and yet now... now he has people whom care for him, love and cherish him as a friend, a brother. People he can call on when in need, or whenever he has the rare need to just speak to someone. He has those whom consider him family and understand him. Fighting the wars had changed Heero Yuy from the Perfect Soldier, to Heero Yuy, a simple exceptionally trained human soldier. He shed his Soldier exterior to let his Humanity shine through...
Ahh... but the night of space grows old and my thoughts weary if they keep treading down the paths they now wonder.
I have research to perform, a place to find, a new location to settle into before the next eve is to come. I have a purpose in life also. One I am still seeking, and will undoubtedly find... but until then, I have work to do...
I suppose more sleep is in order before I attempt finding anything... if I do not, I fear I will have that blonde twisted-haired onna breathing down my back about unreasonable youths and stubborn fools... Chuckling I stand and head back to my quarters for much needed rest.
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~ * @ * ~
'
It was going to be one of those nights again. The puffy man with salting hair sighed as he settled his more-then-appropriate-weight-for-his-age down into the plush darkly furnished chair. Why was it again that Rookies always had to be brash, stubborn as hell, gung ho and hearing-impaired?
Honestly. Was there so much a problem that listening to your commanding officer every once in a while - God forbid everyday! - was such a demoting thing? When had following orders start meaning one was going to be seen as a 'pet' in the Rookie Ring, instead of a good officer?
Giving his head a shake the kind old man sighed heavily. All be damned if he knew when things started going down the drain... But be damned he wasn't when one stupid fool got hurt for acting without thinking. It would nearly take the impossible threat of the station's colony being under a meteor shower before those kids got their heads out of their asses and started listening to their elders... As the old saying goes... "Come Hell of high water" those damn Rookies were going to learn, and learn fast who to listen to and what rule to follow, or their asses would be off the force quicker then mercury on a hot day.
Ahh, but what could you do? They were young and stupid... they'd learn sooner (hopefully rather then later) what needed to be done and how. He'd only be there to, uncharacteristically, tell them he told them so. Chuckling, a smile tugging at the not-so-old-young-man's face, settling back into his seat pulling papers forward he sighed again. So much work to be done; so little competent people working for him to do it.
"Chief! Hey Chief!!" a voice shouted not twenty minutes into his working, startling the poor man, robbing him of half his life expectancy.
Chief Cathal McCree's1 entire body jolted as his calmly shut door suddenly flew open slamming into the wall behind it. Luckily, he wasn't a man of weary nerves and had himself back together in record time before the young rookie could notice anything; even the still twitching of his writing hand splayed across the page he had been writing on, now sporting a nice long blue slash across half of it. But damn that boy was loud!
"Wha' is it Giles?" he asked, voice stern, "An' 'ave ah nae asked ye, among otha's, many times ta refrain from slammin' me door open? T'ere is such a concept as knockin'." The young redhead started to open his mouth but Chief McCree wasn't having it. "Nae excuses. Even in times of crises..." when weren't they ever in one? "...one would be reminded ta kno' before enterin' anotha's room."
Taking a steady breath McCree sighed, setting aside his ruined report, "Now. Wha' a'pears ta beh tha problem this time?"
Face burning a steady red the young man could feel pulsing in his cheeks, Giles had the good sense to look sheepish and not a little bit downtrodden at the news he carried from getting reprimanded. He was a Rookie, it was true, but he always tried his best to be good... There just always seemed to be something he forgot, or did, that got him a speaking to from someone higher up then he, if not a teasing comment or two from the other Rookies.
Still, he liked his commanding officer.
Chief Cathal McCree was a kind man in his late forties, had a slightly rounding stomach from time spent behind the desk and age catching up to him. He was Scottish, there was no mistaking it with that red hair, green eyes and accent, even the slight freckling of his face and arms; he stood a good 5'9" and was the best officer they had on the force, aside from a few choice other higher ups that Giles had taken a liking to... Someone he could look up to and hope to strive to be like them.
"Erm... I'm terribly sorra Sir..." God, why did he always stutter and stop when placed in these situations? "...but there seems ta beh a problem down in the armory room, Sir."
An arched brow met the question, "A problem Giles? Wha' sort o' problem?" Why did all the Rookies seem to speak in codes the "Old Ones" didn't know? He liked Giles, honestly he did. He was a smart boy, only twenty-three, was Irish, spoke with a light accent, had good manners (though they had a tendency to disappear in times of need) and followed rules as best he could. He'd be a good cop one day, but now... McCree sighed.
"Yes Sir!" crisp solute. "Sorra Sir, Reddings didn't tell meh tha details just that I should get you, an' fast Sir." Tilting his head in an un-official way Giles thought for a moment. "I think... I think I heard Walters an' Smith goin' on about someone causin' a ruckus down there though..." he could be wrong, of course, but chances of that were slim to none at the moment.
"Indeed." Giles nodded, waiting for orders.
Walters and Smith, eh? Why did that not surprise him? The other two Rookies he had an eye on... they were bright, like Giles, yet lacked the common sense to use it in most cases. Sad really... they needed all the competent officers they could get on L2. Depressing part was - the good ones had sense enough to transfer to one of the other colonies - they didn't want to work in the "Bottoms", as their precious colony had earned the title of.
Sighing once again as he stood, McCree allowed young Giles to show him the way. "Please, lead on" waving a hand before him.
"Yes Sir!" turning sharply, Giles made sure everyone moved from their path so they could reach the room on the second sublevel quicker.
The sounds around them grew into a mass jumble of things. People shouting, metal hitting metal, even steel, there was the sound of guns going off once or twice that had Chief McCree seeing flames.
That was a No-No. A mighty big No-No.
You did not fire your side arm in the building. Ever. Unless it was being taken over by terrorist. Then, and only then, was it an exception to fire a gun in the building. You didn't even attempt that with an escaping captive, you used a stun gun. That way, if you weren't good enough an aim, at least your other officers were only out temporarily with a headache when they awoke, and not missing some needed limb, or possessing a hold in their being.
Louder the noises became, the higher the Scottish man's ire rose. The people shouting, talking, steel on steel... was giving him a massive bloody headache! "Oh Hola Motha, please give those brainless enough ta cause such racket sense to stop soon, or forgive meh fir tha 'ell ah'm about ta lay down..." whispering, taking deep breaths in trying to calm himself McCree stepped foot into the room in question - or tried to. There were so many bodies crowding the one entrance into the armory supply that he couldn't even see what their eyes were trained on, surly not the one supposed to be causing all this mess in his station!
Well... he wasn't standing for it. He knew damn well those idiots had jobs to be doing and they were damn well going to do them!
Taking his cap from it's buckled place at his side, he whapped the nearest man upside the head with it. "Wha in tha Bloody 'Ell's goin' on 'ere!?" he bellowed, taking immense pleasure in watching the forms of those currently in front of him (mostly the one his hat smacked) blocking his way, jump startled and try turning at the same time. From years of experience, McCree took a step back, not wishing to be busted in the chin again. "Ah've neva seen such gangious stupidity in one spot before! Ye've got jobs ta beh doin'! An' ah rightly suggest ye go do 'em before ye catch yerselves on yer asses without one!" waving an arm for those that turned startled, "Move on, now! Ah'll handle this!"
Good Lord man... he thought watching them scatter like scolded children, Wha' in the 'ell 'ad 'em firin' off damned weapons in station!? Never were they to do that. And they knew as such! That's what pissed him off. And he was having a relatively good day so far... It never lasted. Never. He should know this after over a decade on the force.
The masses cleared out quick enough, McCree picturing some with tails tucked between their legs and finding himself trying not to snicker at them all. Ohh, they were a bunch of wee babes! Heaven help him as he lightly pushed the last one away, closing the door and turning around to face his nemeses of... a mere strapping lad sitting on stacked rifle carts. A wee lad and they were causing this entire ruckus?? Well, he silently amended scanning over the boy: a wee lad with a sword.
Sighing softly, head shaking, McCree took a step forward and eyed the boy once more. He couldn't be anymore then seventeen, Asian - Chinese if his memory served him rightly. They didn't see many Asian folk in this neck of Space. He had shiny, soft looking hair pulled back into a tight tail at the nape of his neck, slanted, up tilted eyes of the darkest midnight he'd ever seen, soft curving cheeks of sun kissed caramel and tight lined lips, made up the dear boys face. He was dressed in a soft gray tank top tucked into puffy white pants that were held up by a navy blue sash tied around his waist and tight ankle cuffs at the bottom; his shoulders were squared off in a defensive look, his legs folded beneath him in such a way, that if the young one needed to be afoot quickly, he could do so without problems. Currently, his hands lied in his lap, clasped together as if he didn't have a care in the world - observing his slim frame and demeanor, McCree had the thought that, maybe he didn't.
Sigh. Either way, this was not the place to talk to the boy in. McCree certainly didn't pose him a threat, didn't wish to, now nor later, and the other seemed to sense this fact. Incautiously striding tiredly forward holding out his hand to the side a few seconds, McCree gave a fatherly smile. "'Ello laddie" voice soft as the years and grandkids had made it, "Will ye please follow meh? Let us speak somewhere more comfortable, eh?"
Eyeing the elder man, whom seemed to be in charge of the idiots this station held and dared called 'Officers', if the way they scrambled from the room was any indication of who was in charge. Wufei smirked inwardly watching them nearly run from the room again in his mind.
This man, their commanding officer, held a benevolent look about him, his smile was warm and caring, his eyes crinkling ever so much in the corners as he did so, creating small crow's feet.
Blinking rapidly to rid himself of unwanted tears, Wufei's minds eye flashed several pictures of the deceased Elders whom ran his Clan, some of whom had taken care of him for short periods during his life... By the Gods he missed them all! They were his Clan, his people, his friends and most importantly, his Family. Whatever status they held did not matter, they were all held dear to him, in his heart, even if they knew it not. This man, look very much like the ones he held dear... but for his ancestry was of the Irish or Scottish decent, not his own Chinese.
The young one stood gracefully, a movement, which showed his Scottish soul how much training the young lad must have been put through. Giving a small bow from his waist, a tipping of his head the lad let McCree know he was ready to follow after retrieving his white top from a rack of bunt tip loaded rifles. Smiling, a small shake of his head and a sweeping of his arm towards the door, McCree gladly led his new visitor out of the weapons room, locking it, and led the way back to his office, glaring at all those (except Giles) to look their way.
Amusing. It did not go without his noticing, how quick other officers were to look their way, catch sight of something that was other then himself, and look away again. Wufei held no doubts that the man walking purposefully in front of him was giving quite the Look to his subordinates warningly. Kind and caring people always held a silent demanding side: just look at Winner. He was a perfect little Angel until some poor fool tried harming his Peace, Friends or Family... then ZERO kicked into action and the Angel transformed into a raging Little Devil - until his people were safe, then he calmed back into his Angel half - usually with a certain Europeans help, of course.
"'Ere we are." The accented voice knocking him from his musing Wufei glanced up in time to see the larger man's frame covering a plate on the door stating 'McCree'. Definitely Scottish. Giving a thankful nod stepping in and to the side so the man, McCree he reminded himself, could close the door, onyx eyes took in the tasteful furnishings. An oak desk, matching dark fitted plush chair, two other lesser chairs sat in front of the desk for visitors, there was a coat rack set to the left of the door, two file cabinets to either side of the desk... There appeared to be a cadenza set along the back wall behind the desk with stacks of paperwork scattered around a single green tinted lamp, a sister to the one sitting on the man's desk; also piled high with work.
Either this man was slow on getting his work done - a thought that did not sit well with his attitude, or there was more then one man was able to handle... more that, one would suspect, others could handle... But that did not seem to be the case here... Or perhaps there were others that could have done the work yet refused to... so instead of having to spend (what Wufei thought must be hours) arguing with the person to get the work done, he took it all upon himself? Honorable, if not stupid for wearing himself out... yet still an honorable action.
"Please, 'ave a seat laddie. Will ye like some tea or other thin's? We've some made ah can get ye." McCree smiled, waiting for the others answer before sitting.
Another small bow, shaking his head as he sat, "No thank you" his eyes roamed once more to the stacks of paperwork. Pathetic. If he was right in his assumptions, this station truly did need a hurricane of re-ordering.
"Ah'm uh..." watching the older man scratch the back of his neck, obviously flustered about the happening, and a small amount embarrassed about it, made Wufei crack a small smile. It was... enduring? to see such a man of standing do such a childish thing. Something that Maxwell had a tendency to do when nervous or in trouble. Maxwell... Yuy... Damn him to hell he wasn't supposed to be thinking about him! "...Sorra fir tha otha's actions... it wasnae right of 'em..."
"Understandable though, I would think, of finding someone had broken into the armored supply room..." he smirked, "A room to which there is only one door to enter thru, and a ventilation shaft that appeared small, even to me, to want to use."
Finding the lad's response humorous if not a bit humbling, McCree gave another of his age-warmed smiles. "Beh tha as it may... They shouldna been firin' arms at ye!" his voice hardened with previous ire, "They could've hit ye!"
The man's anger was justly placed. Those idiots firing at him could, perhaps with proper aiming, hit him. But the chances of that happening with only just Academy training to fall back on were slim to none. However, the thought that someone cared for him, even if just as a civilian in the wrong place, was strangely warming.
"Do not trouble yourself on it, Sir. I can assure you, they could do me no harm." Setting his katana in the other seat, holding his arms out to the side Wufei smirked, "As you can clearly see, there is no harm done. Though, if you do not mind my recommending it; I would suggest sending half of those that were present, back to the Academy to train once more."
"Indeed!" with a bark of laughter McCree slapped his leg grinning, "By meh Motha laddie, ah like ye!"
The Chinese boy simply smiled in return, watching him.
"Ahh... Ye donno kno' 'ow ah beh needin' tha laugh taday lad... heh, ye donno kno'..." head shaking, hands moving to collect pages placing them in the proper stacks McCree grinned. "M'sorra! Ah dinna introduce mehself!" chuckling he extending a hand, "M'ah names Cathal McCree, Chief Cathal McCree... buh ye just call meh Cathal, eh? Mr. McCree or just plain McCree makes meh feel old!" giving a wink for his comment, Cathal smiled watching the other chortle softly shaking his hand.
Chuckling as he shook Chief Cathal McCree's hand, Wufei gave a small smile, noting the man's hand was nicely warm in the seeming coolness of the room. "Cathal it is then" nodding slightly, "My name is Chang Wufei of the L5 Colony."
"Is it now?" Cathal raised an eyebrow at the name, his voice surprise, but no vocal of disbelief colored it, just his plain shock at hearing that name. "Well then it beh meh honor to 'ave met the last heir of the Dragon Clan then, Chang Wufei." Cathal kept his voice low and calming, knowing loosing ones whole family, let alone their Colony, must have been more then what all of Hell could think up. "Would it beh alright if'n ah just called ye Wufei? Or, would Chang beh better? M'sorra lad... we donno get ta see many Oriental people 'round these parts, 'fraid ah might beh offendin' yeh or sumthin'..."
He was scratching his neck again; Wufei chuckled to his self, and fiddling with his pen while looking at him. Giving a slight shake of his head, wondering how a man of his age could act and appear a child, he nodded, "Wufei would be fine, Cathal, and to some, calling a person by their first name without consent would be seen as offence... but I do not mind if you do so."
And the sentence alone told the older man that Wufei would not be kept silent if someone else choose to use his name without permission. Cathal actually caught himself hoping he was there to watch the action of the first to take that mistake.
"heh Ah thank ye laddie!" slight tipping of his head, "So, can ah ask ye, what ye were doin' sittin' in our armory then?" Asking how he got to be there was a voided question. Many never knew, hopefully would never know, who the five were that piloted the massive giants known as Gundams, the machines that dwarfed the normal MS's. A special few however, had come to handle the sensitive information. People who had a hand in forming large groups, such as the Preventers, Heads of the Colonies, close friends and family to those whom had made contact with them and lived, for whatever reasons after it.
Cathal fell into two of those options; he had friends higher up in the armies that fought, such as a young Lieutenant that used to work for OZ before "seeing the light of five young boys" as the good lass put it. Or one could consider his hand (among others of the older police officers whom held military background) in helping small ways to build the Preventers operations manual, so to speak. But mainly it was by his brother's cousin Noin that he knew of the "Five Wonders" Noin's playful name for them all.
Observing the man's face as he thought of what may have passed his mind, the Chinese boys brows furrowed of his own thinking.
It had essentially taken him longer then should have been needed to remember whom had mentioned the place in need to him - which turned out to be anywhere on L2, yet mainly where Maxwell had grown up.
With Sally Po's helping him, it was a day and a half after gathering all the needed information on the station, employee's and the current situation of the surrounding area. His surprise had come in learning that Maxwell's stories of the L2 colony were dead on. He had no qualms of the unlikely chance the American was lying to him, for it was not in his self pointed code of living to lie to people... However, coming from a wealthy, up kept colony, it was startling to see that people would let such a place go to shambles.
The Dragling was sure, as it was, that the only parts responsible for holding the L2 colony in Space now was the outside hauls and frames. Inside, was a literal war zone. Gangs fought over nearly every territory, spec of land - except where the people whom still held money were able to concentrate the main of the police force. It was downright despicable how people could let their homes get like that!
Coming from a wealthy and well-kept colony did not deplete his understanding and knowing that if half of the wealthy owners on L2 had gotten together, they could have kept the colony in a relatively healthy shape. Could have built a few more shelters for the unlucky people without places to call home, could have saved so many more lives... By the Ancestors there were even funds to request to be helped by! And no one, not nearly enough, had even thought to ask for them - as was found out by his research. Wufei's fast flying fingers (admittedly not as quick as His hands) had only found three people whom had tried requesting help and been turned away from it.
A Mr. Sandree of the Brighter Futures Learning Center and Shelter. Then a few months later by a Sister Helen and Father Maxwell from Maxwell's Church... heaving a great sigh of sadness that seemed to overwhelm him at the thought that these, were the same people who had a hand in raising Maxwell, who helped to shape his future, and had lost their lives, among the lives of innocent children when the Alliance attacked them. It seemed the only good caring people on L2 had died in either the war between the Alliance and OZ, or by the street gangs' hands.
Wufei slid in his chair, leaning against the back of it tiredly, bonelessly. There was no, nor should he ever expect there to be, animosity between he and Maxwell. He trusted the American impeccably with his very life. Maxwell he could tell returned this trust, if not by saying it outright, then by gifting the Dragon - gifting them all - with the secrets of his past. Maybe that was why, in part, Wufei was sitting in a chair in the office of L2's Chief of the 38th Precinct. The thought of helping those where Maxwell grew up, to give them a chance the braided warrior had and lost, for a better future. Maybe in his own thinking Wufei had conjured up, that by helping these poor people, his own need (half of it) would be fulfilled; the other half was unsurely left in Fates gentle hands.
Glancing up at the elder man whose eyes shimmered kindly, curiously, hands folded atop his desk as if it was a natural habit, had Wufei's nerves that were bunched up, tensed as if he were going into a battle, loosen and calm. Letting his own clasped hands slide to his sides absently as his muscles relaxed, Wufei leaned forward speaking, "I had come seeking the one responsible for this station" cracking a small smile from his serious look for the elder, "in the off chance I might be of some help in reforming this area. Do pardon me, Sir, but it is in dire need of transforming... more then what you or your men seem capable of."
Arching a fiery red brow at the last part McCree smirked inclining his head slightly. "Indeed." The last part, for any other, would be taken as a slight to his or her training, as offense that they couldn't handle what had them put here to do. Alas, McCree did not possess an inflated ego and knew right well when he was had on something... and he, along with his men, were most defiantly had on trying to "reform" as the young man put it, this area.
Having been stationed in the very same spot for the last ten years seemed a very long time all a sudden, when faced with the young man before him, offering to add his knowledge and training to fix the problem of gangs, hookers, drug dealers... everything.
His men and women, Lord bless their sorry hearts, had tried their damnedest time and again to get them off the streets, in jail, in reform houses... all of it - only to be pushed back into hiding in their precinct. They were hard pressed to handle all that roamed the streets. Some Cathal remembered hearing their place compared to the rougher parts of Neo New York. He couldn't disagree there; not much had changed from times ago to the present.
The plain and simple fact was that they desperately needed all the help they could get. His people were brave and held honor. They would lay their lives down to get the job done. However, Chief McCree had no intentions of letting them loose their lives while under his care. If things got too rough, they were to pull back. Normal stations weren't run this way. If things got rough, they got rough, no real matter to what was injured or lost, as long as the job was done.
That. Was if you were on a regular up kept station. This, needless to say, was L2 - and one did not receive the same support as the other Space Colonies. If they lost people, they lost people. That was it. End of complaining. They could request backup 'til their faces turned blue and eyes popped out - they wouldn't get it. Everyone knew what shambles the L2 station was in and had no honestly interest into getting mixed up with it. The brave one, the ones looking for a good challenge and fight - those people came here. Bless their hearts, even those with the minimal training, knowing very well how hurt they could get on the job, but containing a pure heart that honestly wanted to help people, came once in a while.
The answer Cathal had been searching for for the better part of his service, of how to clean up and restore what they could of L2 - was quite literally sitting across the desk from him.
Chang Wufei of the L5 Colony. Last heir to the long Dragon Clan - could quite possibly save their small colony - with not a little bit of help. Every person in their precinct would have to go through new training, have to take a class in thinking like the Street Folk do - ruthlessly. It sounded harsh even to his own ears, to have to say what he already knew, but Cathal was a man of little illusions.
What better person could you get to teach a mere building full of civilians when compared, to battle the Streets? Where could you find someone with more training then the best Military General in less then half the years? Who could you possibility get with a thought process quicker then normal; a mind that can think like and out do the best street smart gangster?
You could look to the ends of the Earth and Space for such a person... but you would never find one better then a ex-Gundam pilot. To have someone with training that would make a normal person pale in color of fear, to have killed during the wars with only their seventeen years to hold them... making them hardened, ruthless soldiers... yet to still onto some hope of life and some sort of childish air among them?
Ohh nae. Nae, he would not say that the Gundam pilots are in any way childish... at least, not that they would recognize any of it. Cathal was sure the only one that showed any sort of childishness around anyone else would be the pilots' of Sandrock and Deathscythe Hell. Duo and Quatre, weren't they? Yes, that braided boy with the striking violet eyes, was most definitely a child at most times; Quatre, the sweet blonde just held a childish air around him that would likely fool others into believing that he'd never known the war, had never participated in it. Bloody hell! Even been one to help his comrades *win* it!
Nae. Whether the pilots showed the child that sill lived within or not, it was there... nestled right beside its pitiless soldier half. That, is what made them the best there was alive. Some called them "ruthless" and some would most certainly kick the well rounded ass of the person that dared to call a Gundam pilot such. What so divided the Gundam pilots from the "best of the best" in anything dealing with war... Was that most of them out there would do bloody *anything* to complete their missions. Even if that meant killing people that needn't have been. That. Is what lets the Gundam pilots be in a league of their own. They would no more harm an innocent then shoot their own friends. Mentally snickering Cathal added; first time meetings aside!
Sobering from his wondering thoughts, sitting upright in his seat to eye the youth before him, Cathal cracked a fatherly smile for him. Perhaps it was his already being a grandfather that made him have a liking for the young man... or more so it was the courage he possessed to keep fighting even when the Eve Wars were over... This time putting his knowledge of killing/battling skills to better use - to clean up and better many lives in the darkest part of the Space Colonies. All of the Gundam pilots, he knew, would jump at the chance to do something like this if something wasn't currently holding them down.
"Wufei lad... Ah canna tell ye wha' it means ta meh personally ta 'ear ye wan'ta 'elp out 'ere in our wee part o' space..." giving a soft chuckle shaking his head, "Ah kno' it might sound funny from a ol' man like mehself, but ah beh thinkin' this here is meh 'ome... may not everyone in it... but ye kno' wha' ah'm tryin' ta say lad?" he asking tilting his head slightly, watching as the Chinese youth's eyes went shady with puzzlement then shinned with an inner knowledge just gifted him.
There was little in the world that had yet to be seen by people who fought in wars. Once you were in them, Ancestors disregard the 'how' of getting into them, one will eventually see all there is. It might be the places you've visited, the people you've met... To the Dragon of L5 it was the Hearts of Men, which his soul searched for, judged and learned from.
Fighting had been a form of revenge for him. Revenge for his people, his Colony... his Wife, Meilan. Fighting was his way of honoring those who have died to get him where he is today - Peace. So many sacrifices had been made to assure his life was kept his own; to make sure he was able to step onto the battlefield and win their lives back... to free them from Wars grasp.
During his dance with the battlefield the raging Dragon watched with open eyes the darkest of men's souls in action; had the chance to see just what Man was truly capable of... and did not like it in the least. There was however, the very few bright souls on his very battlefield that shocked the young Dragling. How could someone pure fight and still stay as such? People like Sally Po. A crazy onna with bright hopes for the future, a good honest heart with a strong will that would challenge any mans to get done what she had to in the fastest, safest way she could. Another onna, Lucrezia Noin, perhaps just as every bit crazy as the other, yet Wufei had found her to be both an honorable and equal fighter... one whom fought beside her ungiven love to make sure he did not go out and "get his ass blown off".
There were others he had found like them, like himself... four others whom now held the honor of being his Brothers... his new family. Special people he would happily give his life for if it were to save their own. It was, in a sense, the deepest relationship anyone could have with another. How many people could honestly, truthfully, say they would give their life for another without any second thoughts? Without any hesitation? There were not many like this out in the world today... there would most likely not be many more... But his family was such a people... even the extended versions... Milliardo Peacecraft, the crazy old coot Howard... As hard as it was to believe in this new time of peace, with all they had been through during their training... even their Doctors, Professors and his Instructor would gladly give their lives to save them, their surrogate sons (truly not a stranger fact had been known!), if not just to atone for the Hell they were put thru.
The man sitting before him, Chief Cathal McCree, had seen action in his day. Has known the horrors of fighting, has witnessed for himself the darkest parts of ones soul... and yet still, there was a bright light in his heart that had never died within the darkness... A small, honest to God happy smile lit his Chinese features as he though: There is even childness left in his warm old soul. And it was that childness which reached out to him, which made the kind grandfather of a man stumble over his words in asking for him, trying to describe what this poor colony meant to him.
Wufei understood.
It was not Chief Cathal McCree's home. Cathal came from another colony, another place well up kept and clean. He had been assigned to the 38th Precinct in his younger years and somehow, had grown to love the place despite the blatant darkness threatening to swallow it whole. Cathal's soul seemed to be crying out to help all those he had seen wondering the streets without a home, without family to turn to and with no shelters in sight to help them even in the smallest of ways.
The Dragon of L5 was no kid. He had no illusions of his limits of what he alone could accomplish. He could not, alone, hope to better this dark colony. It had taken hours, days of thinking, pondering, what he alone could do to help this place. It had come to him (with soft nudges from crazy women) some time before to help train those that were willing. Training a few, trusting them with that knowledge to go back and train a few more... He could get many people a better martial arts knowing then all of what the Academy could ever hope to offer. It would take that and more to achieve what they all hoped to do.
It would take years of work; but this would be a start.
Wufei had other ideas, strings he could pull to bring in more help without problems. Knew those that would literally jump at the chance to help others in need... And he intended to pull on those strings when the time was right... after he and his new comrades had cleaned the streets up of the worst parasites. Then, and only then, would the real work begin.
"Cathal" the smooth, light tenor startled the other from the stillness of his office, "Be the truth known that I do fully understand what you are trying to tell me. This is your home, and as such, it pains you to see others hurting, knowing there is no way possible now, that you are able to help them all - let alone a good small part of them."
"Aye."
"I shall help you - them - with the best of what I am."
Swallowing the lump suddenly formed in his old throat Cathal nodded slowly, as if his head were in a jug of syrup and was hard to move, when in fact it was his emotions stilling him from commenting, from doing much of anything as the realization sunk into his mind. They had a chance. They had an honest to God, bloody chance to turn this place around! Good Mary mother of God there was a living miracle sitting in front of his old soul.
"Th-thank ye laddie... Oh by meh motha, thank ye Lonán." Eyes widening at the new name for his space sent angel, Cathal smiled fully. It just popped in there, but by God did the name fit him well! Standing sharply, noticing he startled the youth and chuckling Cathal started shoving things into his satchel before looking up, wide smile still in place. "Do ye 'ave a place ta stay Lonán?"
Lonán? Blinking curiously at the name, wondering just a few moments what it meant, Wufei only caught the question before shaking his head. "I have a hotel room booked, Cathal I'll-"
"Nae!" snorting, head shaking Cathal was having none of that. "Nae! Ah canna 'ave ye stayin' there! Bloody 'ell man! Ye beh offerin' ta 'elp save this place from all tha damned darkness 'round it... Nae, ye beh comin' with meh!" Oh Heaven help him but Geiléis* was going to have his read half-baked for this one! At that the Scottish man's smile turned into an impish grin. This was going to be fun!
The man's refusal to let him stay where he wanted blew across Wufei's feathers the wrong way just so much... like the way Maxwell's jokes tended to go. The twinkle in forest green eyes, heightened color of... excitement? on his high cheekbones, somehow managed to defuse the Dragons rising confused ire, replacing it with a sort of child's curiousness he had found blooming more and more when the thought of true peace settled home a bit more. It was the man's fatherly looks which did the Chinese youth in however... that look of kind warmth from him, the sort he only ever saw from his family, friends and his late wife. It made him feel needed again, wanted... and he found himself nodding dumbly to Cathal while picking up his katana to attach at his waist before reaching for his bag and over coat.
"Wonderful! Ohhh just wait 'til ye meet ol' Geiléis! She'll 'ave a field day with ye!" laughing merrily slapping the youth on the back as his other hand held the door open, Cathal led them from his office into the front. It was early yet, he shouldn't be calling it a night for nearly three more hours, but there was much better things to be taking care of at the moment.
Stopping in the middle of a rather large room with people bustling around to all corners, Cathal let out a shrill whistle that had everyone putting on their breaks, turning or craning their necks to see him. "Listen up everyone! Ah've an announcement! Ah'm leavin' early. Ah want each of ye 'ere in the morn bright an' early! We've got us some new trainin' ta beh 'ad if'n we want ta take back our 'ome!"
Shocked, confused silence met his words. Then, like the striking of impending thunder, the room erupted into shouts of hope and glee. The eyes of those that had been dull and lifeless seemed to spark a new light within'... the light of hope.
Winking at his small friend, Cathal led the way once more, "Come along Lonán, Geiléis beh gettin'' reade ta make dinner 'bout this time... lessa we go surprise 'er eh?" with another kind smile, a gentle little shove to his back, Wufei found himself smiling as he was led to what would be, for no known amount of time, his new home.
Maybe, there truly was hope left for him.
And maybe, just maybe, the rest of what he sought would also come true.
.
~oOo~ * ~oOo~ * ~oOo~ * ~oOo~
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1. Cathal (m) - KA hul - Meaning; strong in battle
2. Geiléis (f) - gyel AISH - Meaning; bright swan
An' 'ere's the next chapter to SC! heh Ah beh sorra it took meh so long ta get done. honestla... Ah tried, but writin' dinna seem ta beh with meh much this last few weeks... If'n it did, it was small ideas... but as ye can see, ah did manage to get this done tonight! heh Ah'm proud, ah dinna even get ta read anything else while doing it. A great success if'n ye ask me... Readin's a great distraction for meh. ^__^;;
Please review and lemma kno' 'ow ye beh likin' it so far, ne? Ah'd greatly appreacite it. Now, ah'm off ta read something a little before hittin' the sack... never mind it's 2am now. ^__~
Keep it kickin'!
~ Anime Redneck