"Shit!" Over the comm link, Quatre could hear Duo's unhappy expletive. "Where the fuck are these guys coming from?" He didn't answer; he felt a hum surrounding his body, one telling him that Sandrock was almost out of fuel and that there was no foreseeable end to the battle. Another Taurus approached recklessly, breaking off from the group. Specials, then.
It had been a routine mission; more Mobile Dolls were being delivered to the Lake Victoria base to train OZ soldiers. Then in a flash of white light, it had all gone to hell. A full power blast struck Sandrock in the head; he was momentarily blinded, even with his protective goggles. Wires crackled and spat at him as his main control panel was literally torn out of place, hanging by a single red wire.
They were losing.
Allah knew where Trowa and that other pilot, 05, were. He'd hoped once he and Duo had started to fight that perhaps they would come to their aid. It was too big a job to try and fight for the Colonies individually; Quatre felt that if they were to succeed, they would have to band together and become a force to truly be reckoned with.
Yet it wasn't like some big sorority. They were in a war for their lives, for other lives who had no choices, no say. He understood the others' reluctance to trust him, but it still hurt. He saw a glowing green light out of the corner of his eye; Duo was standing with his Gundam's back to his. It was good to have someone guarding his back, but at the same time they'd just decreased the level area significantly, letting the Taurus suits concentrate all their firepower on one space.
Almost an hour of continuous fighting later, Quatre and Duo stood victorious, but it was truly a Pyrrhic victory. They wouldn't be able to fight again until they got their Gundams repaired. Sighing, Quatre turned to head back to the hills, where the Maganacs waited on his orders.
Out of the sky came a dazzling red jewel, growing into a mobile suit with wings. It looked like...
He gasped as the mobile suit cut down Deathscythe with one pass.
It looked like Wing Zero, painted a metallic red.
But that was impossible; Heero piloted Wing Zero...
Heero was on their side...
He winced as the Gundam, smelling blood, went after the Maganacs, cutting them down ruthlessly. "Heero!" His space heart screamed for mercy, even as more and more of his faithful personal guard died in usual and boring ways. Shot down. Sliced open with that damn gun. Both, even.
What was he doing?! Quatre didn't have time to think; Wing Zero rounded on him, its red eyes staring past the metal of the cockpit and into his frightened, wildly pounding heart.
He led them down the hall slowly, the chain hooked to the manacles almost like a leash. Duo whined a little as Quatre tugged on his arm; they had to keep moving, couldn't stop to think about the implications of one of their own leading them into the heart of an OZ base. "Lieutenant Yuy," a tall, masked blonde man snapped. "Leave the prisoners with me. You are needed in General Khushrenada's study." Nodding sharply, Heero, dressed impeccably in a black and gold OZ uniform, spun on one black booted heel and stalked down the hallway, ignoring the amazed stares of his former comrades.
Zechs turned his eyes towards Duo and Quatre, who stood proudly though they were chained. "And you." Duo felt a shiver run down his back. Not the most promising of greetings. "Come with me."
They exchanged looks. //Don't fight,// Duo's clearly said. //We'll get our chance soon.// Then sweet-smelling cloths were clamped over their faces, and blackness swirled up to consume them.
There was a knock at the door. "Come in," called the ginger-haired leader of OZ. When his Japanese soldier stepped through the door, he set down his paperwork, the sheets crinkling obnoxiously. "Heero. You look well. The mission was a success, ninmu ryoukai, ninmu kanryou. As always." It was a shame, he mused, that the boy's sexual preferences had not been washed away with the rest of his defiant personality. There were many soldiers who would have enjoyed his silent company, in and out of bed.
"I wanted to speak with you about one of your mission reports." Heero nodded slowly, advancing with his hands clasped in front of his chest. Like a child awaiting punishment... "Can you explain this?"
Heero took the paper, eyes scanning over the contents quickly. "I see no problems," he replied in that flat monotone.
"Really." He took the paper back and pointed to one of the last lines on the sheet. "What is this? Shall I read it out loud for you?" Heero said nothing. "It was determined that the cause of the explosion was help me please someone help me SOMEONE anyone HELP me HeLp Me hElP..." He studied the young pilot before him, but even this unerring evidence drew no reaction.
"You know what this means." A twitch of his eyebrow. He knew.
"Take him away," he said softly, and from the shadows emerged five of his personal bodyguards. Heero didn't even flinch as they dragged him from the study, his body as limp as a rag doll's.
"The Zero System."
"Shit..."
Duo rubbed the back of his neck, wincing as his fingers found a new bruise. It seemed to cover the entire nape of his neck. "What the fuck happened?" He looked up to see the young Arabian meditating quietly in the corner of their slightly damp cell.
"They're the newest advances in BDSM technology," he laughed bitterly. "Tiny microchips that stimulate the pain centers in the brain. And thanks to the Winner Corporation, they're flooding the market on mass production orders from my delightful father."
"Your father...?" The violet-eyed boy was speechless.
"A terribly submissive fool. A politically minded dominatrix comes in and takes over everything. It was why most of my sisters left L-4. Abuse of power." He fell silent again, staring at the brick of their new accommodations.
"So basically, we're under their control." His eyes widened. "Do you think that's why Heero's..." He couldn't even say it. He fucking admired that bastard, and he turned them over to the enemy.
Quatre shrugged, turning so Duo could finally see the large bruise marring one pale cheek. "It could be." And it might not be. They could only wait and see.
It was crazy, Duo thought wildly. Him, in an OZ uniform, helping Heero, also decked out and spiffy in black and gold, trying to track down their fellow pilots. Well, not if he could help it!
They were alone in the viewing room, tracking airspace charts and generally keeping a watch on the Earth. As far as OZ knew, Trowa and 05 were still in space, but they were sure to return sometime.
He smirked as Heero stopped typing on the mother computer long enough to glare at him. Some things hadn't changed. "So, you can stop pretending now. What're you really doing here at OZ, eh? Hiding out from her Royal Annoyingness?"
To his surprise, the Japanese boy's face went completely blank. "Who--Duo?" He grinned.
"Glad you recognize me, man. You were scaring me for a minute--"
The door suddenly burst open. Standing with a rose in one hand was none other than General Khushrenada himself. "Yuy--you know what you have to do." Shuffling his feet like a catatonic sleep-walking, he moved beneath Treize's arm and allowed himself to be led into the hallway. Duo blinked twice. Strange.
Then, on a whim, he ran over to the computer to see what Heero had been strenuously typing. It was an outgoing e-mail message.
...help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me...
"So you think it's not going to work?" Treize demanded, slamming his fist down onto the metal paneling. His spineless scientist crew winced. "Is that what you're telling me? That one little boy no bigger than my thumb has successfully staved off the Zero System?"
"General Khushrenada, he's got incredible mental blocks. Probably put there by the ones who trained him. We can't persuade him anymore than we already are. It's pushing fate to have him working side by side with his fellow pilots. It could easily be the boost he needs to overwhelm the Zero System's effects entirely." The youngest scientist, a short dark-haired man with round glasses, sighed. "There's nothing more we can do, short of breaking him. And then there's no use in a broken soldier, is there?"
"Find another way. *You* are the ones who said, 'Oh no, let's not waste such potential. Let's not kill him, let's just turn him against the Gundam pilots.' And I believed you, thought you could successfully make him into an OZ soldier. You've got three days, gentlemen. I expect a progress report on my desk by tomorrow."
They all breathed a sigh of relief as he glided out smoothly, the door shutting behind him. Then they turned their attention to the center of the problem, one unconscious Japanese boy strapped down to a table. His lips were moving minutely...
"...help me..."
End Part One
Ariana
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