Barracks Room, Carpentaria Base
Ezalia Joule's image looked gravely back at Yzak from the com-unit screen. She shook her head in answer to his question.
"No, there has been no indication of any kind of ransom demand from the Earth Forces for Dearka. I cannot imagine that even the Naturals would fail to discover his identity, and its significance, were he their prisoner. And given their behaviour in the Lacus Clyne affair…."
"Have you asked Dearka's father directly? There is always the possibility that a private approach might be made to pressure him as a member of the Supreme Council, rather than an open demand of some kind."
Yzak's mother nodded approvingly at this insightful suggestion.
"Yes, the same thought had occurred to me. I have spoken to Tad privately. He swore that no such contact had been made. I am certain that he was speaking the truth. I think it is inevitable, that in spite of our best efforts, there is some Earth Alliance espionage presence here on Aprilius One. I think it is reasonable to assume that they have the capacity for making secret contact with him, if they had sufficient motive. The lack of any contact, overt or clandestine argues…well, you see where logically it leads."
No more needed to be said. They both knew that the lack of any sign of Dearka, as a hostage or prisoner of war, was very strong evidence that he was dead.
"Yes, Mother. I understand. Thank you for your efforts to look into the matter."
"I do have other news for you. Your other team-mate Athrun Zala is going to be awarded the Order of the Nebula for destroying the Earth Forces mobile suit. Furthermore, he is going to be transferred to the Special Forces answering directly to the National Defence Committee itself. The latter was at the specific direction of Chairman Patrick Zala."
Yzak looked calmly back at his mother. "I am not surprised. Official acknowledgement was bound to be made of his destruction of the Strike."
The manner of neither Yzak nor his mother gave the least hint of the disappointment that this represented to them, though the nature of that disappointment was different for each. Both of the Joules had a capacity to cut their losses and move on. Neither would have dreamed of making any further mention of the Zalas, father or son. That was not any kind of issue for discussion between them; nor ever would be.
"However, on a happier note, Yzak, I think it very likely that you will be getting promotion yourself in the foreseeable future. Experienced elite pilots are very much in demand to head the new teams that are being formed as part of the expansion of ZAFT forces. I think that once your current commitment on Earth is over, you will back here again."
If I survive Spitbreak, Mother. "That's very good to hear, Mother. Though I expect to be busy down here for some time. I can't go into details, obviously."
Ezalia Joule smiled. "That's all right, Yzak. As a Council Member I have some knowledge of the matter. I quite understand."
With a little more mother-son chitchat the conversation wound its way to a close and with the usual maternal admonition to be careful, Ezalia Joule broke the link.
Yzak stood there for a moment and then let the mask slip. His shoulders sagged and his face now betrayed the misery he had kept so firmly under control in his mother's presence. His last hope for any positive word about Dearka had just died. He walked over to the bed and lay down on his back, arms folded behind his head, staring at the ceiling. He hated this room. It reminded him painfully of the room he had shared with Dearka at the Gibraltar Base.
This bloody room…Be glad to get away to join Commander Le Creuset.
Dearka, I miss you, you bastard!
He revisited, for perhaps the hundredth time, that moment when he had woken up after the last fight. Duel had taken heavy damage and he'd returned to the submarine carrier. He had given in to the urging of the vessel's medic to get the gash in his scalp stitched. It wasn't a serious injury, but it bled profusely. The damned medic had sworn that it was only a local anaesthetic he'd used in stitching the wound, but for some reason it had made Yzak flake out.
When he woke up, everything had changed: the others were gone. The submarine carrier was retreating. Disbelief and anger fuelled his argument with the vessel's commander; the bastard had his orders and wouldn't go back. Fortunately Yzak made it to the privacy of his quarters before the tears and wild emotions kicked in. The bones of his hands had ached for a day afterwards.
Hope had fought wildly with the worst fears in his mind, till word came many hours later that Athrun was OK, but that there was no sign of either Buster or Dearka. Probably the Earth Forces had retrieved the Buster, or at least whatever was left of it, but no word of Dearka….And there had been nothing since.
Lying on the bed, he ignored the slow trickle of a tear down his face now, as the thoughts flickered through his tired mind:
…Ten years of friendship and a few weeks of love, with someone bloody extraordinary. Many people never get either of those things in their lives...
Dearka…I never told you…
Shit! Don't whine over what you've lost…You're a soldier; everything in your life, your fucking life itself, is up for grabs!
Dearka knew the score…We both knew when we first put on these red coats, what the price might be…
The damn Naturals will pay dearly for you too, Dearka, one way or another.
Corridor, Carpentaria Barracks (sunset the next day)
Yzak had waited outside Athrun Zala's room for him to emerge. He had mixed emotions about why he was there. Somehow he felt he owed it to Dearka, and perhaps the others from their team who had gone. They had started out with a core group of six at the heart of the Le Creuset team, and he and Athrun were the last remnants. And now Athrun was going too…
When they shook hands in farewell, Yzak was surprised by the lack of real animosity he felt. Somehow, it had all got burnt away. Athrun had destroyed the Strike in the end, and that earned him some respect from Yzak, unrelated to the feelings of disappointment that he hadn't been able to achieve it himself.
He'd never like Athrun Zala: too much painful history there, too much secret complication, too much irritation with a personality so alien from his own. But, nevertheless…I hope you survive, you bastard. Don't go getting yourself killed…
And before he knew it he had actually put the thought into words, disguised as a gibe about wanting to be in a position to give Athrun orders some day. Of course Athrun saw right through him, but Yzak didn't give a damn.
He watched Athrun Zala walk slowly out of sight down the long corridor, bathed with warm sunset light. He took a deep breath and started walking away in his own direction.
Why is it that some of the most painful moments of my life have happened in fucking corridors like this? I will be so glad to see the back of this place...
Oh, Dearka…!
And then there was only the empty corridor and the fading golden light.
Afterword
This is the first of what is intended to be two stories. The second will start at the meeting between Dearka and Yzak on Mendel Colony, and cover their lives through the period of Gundam Seed Destiny. My tentative title is something like "And in the heavens."
I envision a storyline that goes something like this: Yzak looses Dearka, Dearka gets Mir, Mir dumps Dearka, Yzak gets Dearka. (As I see it, the crucial aspect of the relationship between Yzak and Dearka is that while Dearka is indeed capable of being strongly attracted by a girl, he is in love with Yzak. I suspect that it just takes him a couple of years of personal growth before he can tell the difference).
Unfortunately there will have to be some delay before I can produce the second story, as in the somewhat remote part of the world in which I live, it has not yet appeared on tv, and so far only the first few episodes are available on DVD. I have a strong preference for keeping largely within the canon of the original plot and would not wish to stray too far away from it through not having seen Destiny. (I admit my theory about Yzak's parentage has no real support in the canon, but there is nothing that refutes it, either. And he and Patrick Zala certainly have some similarity in their capacity for anger, if nothing else.)
I would like to thank Silver Mirror, Kiagou-chan, and Jenihenpen for the reviews while I was writing this story. It is only the third fanfic I have written, and the other two were both short. The encouragement is much appreciated.