Title: Crossfire
Author: Jusrecht
See Warnings and Disclaimer in chapter one, though I seriously start considering that cursing should be in the warning. It happens again and again and this chapter has Yzak in it, so yeah. You get the picture.
A/N: Previously I thought that Shinn was the hardest character to write, but this one completely outranks him. I feel like I can hate Yzak only for the level of difficulty to write him. I only hope it wasn't a writer's block. This chapter may not turn out as good as the others and Yzak may appear not quite in chatacter, but I still hope everyone can enjoy it.
Chapter Five: Yzak – Fifteen Years of Love and Friendship
Yzak Jule paced briskly down the long corridor of Vernes, Commander Rosand's medium-sized ship, growing increasingly annoyed at the dreary feeling of helplessness pooling at the pit of his stomach. Arriving as an additional party to help in the search of their chairman, he had just finished a meeting with the commander and now was going to return to his own ship and prepare his own men.
The meeting was, to put it mildly, not to his liking. Bluntly said, it pissed him off to no end and made him want to kick something more than just doors and lockers. He was here because Lacus Clyne had personally asked him to join the search, with the consent of the Supreme Council, and it was an established fact that there was virtually nothing he could deny the beautiful ex-singer mediator. It was natural for him to expect some progress in the investigation and that he only had to act based on the gathered information, covering areas they had not touched yet.
But nothing. Nothing could be done. Commander Rosand only magnanimously pointed out that it was impossible for the chairman to have survived the explosion, looking at the few wreckage and mostly nothing left.
Athrun Zala. Died.
It was the sort of news he would snort and laugh at incredulously because this was Athrun Zala they were talking about and Yzak, hot and burned with pubertal fury, had been seriously wanting that to happen during their younger years and had waited and waited until he was forced to admit resentfully that some people just had the privilege to continue their frustratingly long, unbearably important existence no matter how annoying they were. After going through and surviving that hellish stage, of course he couldn't just accept that his lifetime rival was, finally, dead.
"Yzak!"
He whipped around at the familiar voice and found himself looking at an even more familiar dark-skinned face. Dearka Elsman, dressed in full pilot suit and carrying a helm, came floating down the corridor toward him with a huge grin on his face and Yzak suddenly realized that a long time indeed had passed. It had been probably two years since he had last seen his former aide in Martius, both of them busy at their own station and duties since separated. He hadn't been able to raise any argument when the Chairman of National Defense Committee had decided that putting the two best friends in the same squad had been a most deplorable mistake and transferred Dearka to another unit. After all, they had – once again – gone against PLANT by helping Eternal and Archangel and it had been already merciful enough of the chairman not to fire them immediately.
"I heard you're coming," Dearka patted his shoulders warmly, his grin exactly the same as Yzak remembered. "Talked to the commander yet?"
"He's an absolute, mother-fucking asshole," he declared, remembering the older officer and the conversation they had held making his earlier irritation flared once more.
"Somehow I knew that would come from you," Dearka's grin widened and he ran a hand through his short blonde hair, sighing loudly. "But I know what you mean. He often frustrates me too. Giving up practically from the beginning, drawing conclusions too fast, discouraging the crews with total nonsense. I'll be damned if the only reason he's still remaining here isn't for an outward appearance." He paused, and for a moment, a fierce expression resided on his dark face as he stated, "We cannot just give up like that."
The uncomfortable feeling returned and Yzak tried to ignore it with all his might. Not the time to consider it yet, he reminded himself sternly, and forced himself to say instead, "I heard about your father. Congratulations."
"It's nothing he really wanted," Dearka shrugged his shoulders as if he couldn't care less. "But it was a real chaos in Februarius after those council members's death, so I don't think he had any choice."
Yzak felt his mood rapidly declining at the mentioning of the murder. "Nothing has come up with the investigation," he muttered crossly.
Dearka looked severely astonished. "You're kidding. Have we become that incompetent?"
"I don't know the exact details but apparently we can't find any trace of any of the murderers," Yzak said, feeling himself growing sarcastic with each word uttered. "It's understandable if we're talking about one crime scene, but three? How can anyone possibly accept that? Letting Hayes handle this is obviously a mistake."
"Well, he's the chairman of the National Security Committee. That's his job," his friend reminded mildly, before a moment later adding with a knowing smirk, "And you shouldn't be too prejudiced despite your issues with him. He's a good man."
A patented death glare was sent to Dearka's way. "I do not have issues with him."
"Frankly, I find that hard to believe, Commander Jule," the dark-skinned man pointed out, obviously discovering too much fun in bringing up the particular subject. "What's this bizarre incident I heard in Maius about you going ballistic at him?"
"It was a debate!" Yzak heard his own voice rising angrily. "I have my own opinion, but he was forcing his points!"
"Which, I also heard, were extremely valid and reasonable," Dearka countered again with the greatest ease. There was an amused glint in his eyes and Yzak had a hard time deciding which he hated the most right now, the grin on that smug face or the day he had first decided to call the other man a 'friend'. He was perfectly aware that he had a short fuse, but he also remembered that Dearka possessed a remarkable talent to obliterate what little length remaining of aforementioned fuse and never seemed to mind exercising said talent whenever he felt like it. Damn him.
"Admit it," to Yzak's utmost misery, the teasing continued with no end in sight. "You don't like him because he always sides with Athrun."
"I do not not like him because of something that stupid! It was–!"
Dearka held up a hand and for some reasons Yzak couldn't identify no matter how desperate, the flow of words ceased immediately from his mouth. "Point taken, Sir," he said far too cheerfully, "let's move on to the next subject."
For the first time in four years, Yzak couldn't find a decent rejoinder. He opened and closed his mouth for several times, itching to throw a response befitting the notoriety of his temper but always failing every time because finally, his partner in quarrel could hold a proper debate with him and the familiarity of the situation hit him so hard that he was overwhelmed. Maybe he did miss Dearka in a way. His old friend knew how to cope up with his irritable personality, an art unfortunately none of his current subordinates had mastered yet, and to have his old friend back there…it just relieved him immensely.
Of course Dearka's presence would be much better appreciated if Yzak didn't end up in the losing side with such frustrating regularity. This time was no different. In the end, he had to content himself with glaring and snarling at a few other ship crews who had taken wind of the argument and now were looking at the scene with mounting interest.
"Ignore them," Dearka touched his shoulder and signaled for Yzak to follow him. They glided down the corridor and made a turn to a deserted one and once more Dearka opened a conversation. "So, the there's no new information from the investigation team?"
"You can say that," Yzak's answer was a grumble. "And the team sent to ORB to investigate about the shuttle isn't doing any better either. ORB military is still looking for the man – that Gerald Patti – but nothing comes up so far."
"That's bad."
Yzak gave him a look.
Dearka shot him a small grin. "Kira is coming here, have you heard?"
"Yes. Not totally unexpected given the circumstances though," he shrugged his shoulders, trying to keep his frown at bay. For some reasons, it always made him uncomfortable to think about the relationship between Athrun and his boyhood friend. He mentally shook the thought off and leapt to another subject. "So you're still continuing the search?"
There was a look torn somewhere between annoyed, depressed and amused flitting across Dearka's face. "Rosand really doesn't give a damn anymore, so yeah, I'm practically the one who gets things moving around here."
Yzak found himself frowning at the answer. "The Council hasn't withdrew their order."
"True, but like I said, he doesn't give a damn. He's thoroughly convinced that we're only wasting time and money doing this."
Another fuse was burning dangerously close to its end and Yzak felt his body shaking slightly, cold rage trickling into his veins, coating every fiber. "Athrun is not dead," he stated.
Dearka only gave him a pointed look. "Why don't you try to tell that to Rosand?"
The last segment of the fuse was reduced to ashes and searing hotness exploded in Yzak's chest. "What the hell do you think I was doing in his office?" his voice was quick to ascend to a full-scale shout, his hand so close to grabbing Dearka and shoved him to the hard cold glass behind him. "I told him that nothing was confirmed yet and the only thing he did was showing me the way to the door!"
"Now you know how I feel in the last four years," Dearka replied wryly and for the second time that day, Yzak was rendered incapable to form any retort. It wasn't as if that was entirely his fault, although he had to admit that he was the one who had given the order for Dearka to help Eternal on that day three years ago. He had dragged his friend into the mess, so probably it was his fault after all. But, he found himself stomping on the guilt viciously, Dearka was not the only one suffering from loss of companion and they both knew it.
Yzak quickly terminated the thought at that point. He wasn't admitting that. There was simply no way in hell he would admit that.
"At least we've agreed that he's an ass," Dearka spoke again, another grin already brightening his face. "Anyway, I got the details ready down in the hangar in case you're interested. And then maybe we can start working. How many men and mobile suits you have on board?"
"Four GINN, five Zaku and my own Sierra Antares," Yzak answered swiftly, only too relieved to escape from the previous topic.
Dearka nodded. "That will certainly be a big help. We have only covered half of the designated area, which is awfully large because the explosion is big enough to send some rubble out of gravity's reach. And of course there is always the debris belt if we fail to find anything in the area." He paused and heaved a deep sigh, looking slightly more troubled. "Another thing is, we don't really know what we are searching. It can be a life pod, or maybe a body in a suit, or the smallest evidence which might suggest anything."
Yzak narrowed his eyes and grasped Dearka's shoulder, his voice coming out harsh and cold. "He is not dead."
A long, pregnant silence reigned until they arrived at the elevator, and then the dark-skinned man shrugged. "Okay."
The journey down proceeded in an even thicker silence. Yzak felt an uncomfortable knot tightening in his stomach every time he drew breath, the silence becoming louder with each passing second. Once he stole a look at his old friend who was staring at the numbered buttons on the side panel stonily, and his insides churned. Maybe he was the only soul in the world who still believed that the worst had not arrived.
The commander cursed inwardly. He didn't know what happened to himself. This incident happening to Athrun seemed to have thrown off his perfectly balanced world in one swift motion and the mere thought of it sent him flying off the handle and pummeling everyone on his way.
It was one of those times when he wished he didn't hate Athrun Zala that much.
"Is it really bad?" he finally forced himself to ask.
Without diverting his eyes, the dry answer fell from Dearka's mouth. "If that means I'm growing pessimistic with each minute, then yes." Yzak opened his mouth, all too ready to produce a vicious argument when the other man hastily cut in first. "Hey, you wanted me to be honest and so I did. If we can't find anything in three or four more days, I honestly think we should withdraw."
"Try telling that to Yamato," he growled, unconsciously coiling his hands into rigid fists.
A crooked grin made an appearance on Dearka's face as the door slid open to their destination. "I still want to keep my head, thank you."
When they stepped out from the elevator, Yzak realized that Vernes was a smaller ship than his own Voltaire. In front of him, four mobile suit compartments stood facing another four, most of them uninhabited at the moment. There were a few mechanics around, inserting data or working on the lone mobile suit which seemed to have taken damage from colliding with an asteroid. It was not exactly the picture Yzak was expecting to see of a busy search party and he had a distinct feeling that his friend knew what he was thinking.
"The shuttle for the chairman usually has a mobile suit right?" he spoke quickly to chase off the growing discomfort.
"It had one," Dearka nodded, guiding him to a cluster of workstations just before the columns of compartments. "I just can't understand that if someone does survive by taking the mobile suit, why haven't we heard anything yet?"
"Broken engine or booster, or perhaps the navigation system is down, the distress signal screwed. There are tons of reasons," the young commander answered with a frown.
Something appeared on Dearka's face and it looked suspiciously so much like sympathy that Yzak had to force both of his hands to stay put, not crushing the high, protruding nose on said face. "I think you are forgetting something, my dear Yzak," he said, concern lining every word. "The supply of oxygen. Do you think one container will last a week?"
Perhaps he had been secretly dreading about that too, but something else held Yzak back from admitting it. He pretended that he didn't hear the obvious suggestion in his friend's levelheaded reasoning and fixed his eyes on the screen which displayed a detailed chart of the area instead, not responding. This time, it was Dearka who reached for his shoulder, the warm weight trying to be gentle and comforting. "Look," he started, his voice patient, almost coaxing, "I know what Athrun means to you–"
"He means nothing to me!" Yzak snapped, shaking the hand off his shoulder. "Nothing! It's just that…he can't be dead now!"
Dearka looked at him for a long moment but didn't say a word. Yzak was terrified; it was starting to be difficult not to admit it. He remembered that day almost four years ago when Athrun had returned to PLANT, unsure but desperately wanting to do something for their crumbling peace, no longer able to hide himself under the disguise of a simple bodyguard. He often wondered if things would be different, that Athrun would still be somewhere here with his stuck up air and grace, if he didn't ask the other man to return and fight with him and Dearka. Maybe his words didn't actually mean so much for the asshole but sometimes, sometimes Yzak couldn't help but to wonder.
It was killing him because he didn't know if they meant something or not. And if Athrun didn't return…
"This is Kira Yamato with Freedom requesting permission to land in Vernes," a familiar voice echoed in the area, shaking him out of his trance. "Control room, do you copy?"
Yzak dashed to the control room above the hangar, propelling himself forward several times by pushing the rail, and stormed in. There were two operators on duty, both sporting a bewildered look on their faces at the incoming message and visibly relieved at his entrance.
"Give the permission," he demanded briskly.
The operator responsible looked uncertain, recognizing the white-haired commander but apparently not yet receiving any direct order from her superior. "But the commander–"
"Your commander knows," he hissed. "Give the permission."
"But–"
Perhaps it was the slow, painful death his smoldering eyes were promising – or the fact that Dearka came in a moment after he made clear of his threat – because the operator shrank back and murmured, "Yes, Sir."
Her clear, clipping voice echoed in the room, carried through the open communication line to the cockpit of Freedom and the hangar below. Yzak watched in silence as the legendary mobile suit performed a smooth landing and waited for a moment before going out to greet the guest, Dearka following closely behind. A number of fully-suited mechanics surrounded the white-blue Gundam, looking intrigued but quite obviously also intimidated. They quickly dispersed and made way for Yzak when he approached.
"He won't be able to use Freedom anymore with the new neutron-jammer, right?" he heard himself asking as he stared at the massive, imposing presence in front of him.
"Seeing that it's him who designs it, I won't place too much bet on it." Dearka's answer was light, unbothered.
Yzak frowned. "We cannot convince the other nations if we don't start with ourselves, surely he realizes that."
His friend waved desperately toward Freedom's cockpit which was opening with a loud hiss. "Ask the man, not me," he stated.
The pilot began his descend and for some reasons, Yzak felt the knot in his stomach tightening. Ridiculous, he snapped at himself. Nothing to be afraid of. If anything, this mess was ORB's fault to begin with.
But when Kira took of his helmet and the placid, handsome face came into light, the uncomfortable feeling came rushing back with an even greater force. Yzak gritted his teeth, far from amused by his own trepidation and feeling rather absurd.
"Commander Jule, Dearka," the ORB general greeted them politely, making a salute as he did so.
The white-uniformed officer narrowed his eyes. "You 'Commander Jule' me once more and I'll haul your ass back to ORB."
"Yzak," the slightest hint of amusement tinted the somber face as Kira corrected the address. The discomfort lessened a bit, but then the newly-arrived general said again, his formality returning, "Thank you for agreeing to our change of plan in such short notice."
"Frankly speaking, my superior couldn't care less if you were to bring half of your army up here and turn the place upside down," Dearka said with a chuckle. "So by all means, welcome aboard, General Yamato."
The little smile which had finally settled on Kira's face made Yzak want to hit something. Preferably himself. One moment from the past sprang to life in his mind, when he finally got the chance to sit down and talk with the pilot he had chased across heaven and earth, and learned several facts that would mortify him forever. A civilian shuttle, he had said quietly, and when Yzak had fallen silent, too tongue-tied, too revolted to speak, Kira had given him that melancholy smile which had been burned into the back of his mind until now.
"I think it's better if I meet your commander first," the general spoke up again, sounding far too collected. Any trace of hesitance, or desperation, or blind fury, any reminder to the broken voice which had shouted at and pleaded with him in the first war no longer existing.
"Right," Dearka nodded and gestured toward the door. "This way, General."
Kira mumbled a gratitude and followed Dearka, passing another group of mesmerized onlookers. Yzak fell into step beside him, not quite knowing what to say, and was immensely relieved when his companion did not attempt any conversation either. The pilot of Freedom had always been quiet and ever since their first proper meeting, Yzak had received the impression that the other man possessed a rather modest nature. It had developed throughout the years and finally turned into what
Dearka preferred to call the ideal embodiment of self-possession. When he had met Kira again after the second war, he found himself wondering what the hell had happened.
But Yzak couldn't say that he was surprised.
He didn't particularly like Kira Yamato, but it was as close as impossible not to respect him in the strong presence of his majestic calmness. The same could be said about his boyfriend although it was charm more than anything else in Athrun's case – and perhaps the vast difference in the level of Yzak's animosity toward each character. Therefore, it hardly made any sense that he was so distraught by this incident. Probably he had known Athrun for six years, but still.
Yzak stole a glance to his left and wondered if beneath that expressionless face raged a storm out of fifteen years of love and friendship. He couldn't imagine what he would do if Dearka were in Athrun's place and he occupied Kira's.
Their silent journey ended in front of Rosand's office. Dearka pressed the intercom button and spoke to the appliance, "Commander, General Yamato has arrived."
The reply took only a moment to arrive. "Yes, please come in."
Inside, Commander Rosand rose from his seat as they filed in, a wary look flitting across his plump face before a strained smile taking over. "A pleasure to meet you, General," he welcomed and extended his hand toward Kira. "Is your flight okay?"
Yzak rolled his eyes. He couldn't think a more condescending greeting to the pilot of a mobile suit which had practically saved the world twice from utter destruction. Kira, on the other hand, didn't look bothered in the slightest. "Yes, Sir, thank you," he answered with equal formality, accepting the offered hand. "I will be intruding your hospitality for a few days."
"No, of course not," Rosand attempted a grin which almost made Yzak wince. "Actually it is an honor to have you with us here."
Kira returned the smile politely. "If you do not mind, I will get to work immediately."
"Certainly. You can ask Elsman here everything," the commander motioned toward Dearka who indistinctly raised his eyebrows at Yzak. "Just do not expect too much, General."
The words seemed to set everything in motion. Yzak watched as the thick mask on Kira's face cracked and signs of internal storm seeping out, revealing what looked like cold anger and disappointment. There were rigid lines marring his cool countenance, his lips diminishing into the faintest of brush stroke, thin but stiff, his violet eyes burning holes into Rosand's own, and at that moment, Yzak saw what fifteen years of love and friendships could do to someone.
"We should not lose a battle we haven't fought yet, Commander," his voice sounded cold and even Rosand cringed at the sound of it. No one dared to produce the slightest movement until Kira made a small bow and saluted. "Excuse me."
It probably wasn't appropriate, but Yzak felt like he wanted to smirk at Rosand. The son of a bitch deserved a good punch, he gloated and shared a triumphant look with Dearka.
And when twelve hours later Freedom came back with a life pod safely cradled in its arms, Yzak could not stop smirking at the incredulous look on Commander Rosand's face.
End Chapter Five
Notes: There goes chapter five. For those who are wondering what happened to Athrun, I'll reveal it in the next chapter. Reviews will be very much appreciated!