14-Sept-2002
Title: Name of the Pharaoh
Author: bonnejeanne (bonnejeanne@yahoo.com) and von (sablexo1@yahoo.com)
Archive: GW Addiction - http://www.gwaddiction.com
Category: yaoi, AU, sequel, horror?
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: 3 x 4
Spoilers: None
WARNINGS: Lemon, some language, VERY weird premise, a little angst. Trowa may seem OOC for part of the fic, there's a reason.
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing characters and universe are the property of the copyright owners. Our stuff is ours. No money being made here.
Feedback: welcome.
NOTES: Another in the Classic Monster Series. Previous fics in the series are American Werewolf in Space, Bloodline and Broken (Silver) Arrow, all can be found at GWA.
This story is about the two remaining Gundam pilots. It introduces another Classic Monster as well. And an old "villain" makes another appearance. Hope you enjoy. This is probably not the end of the series.
When Rashid informed Master Quatre that Abdula and the others had returned successfully with the two Gundams, and were starting the process to repair and overhaul them, the Arabian pilot went looking for Trowa to tell him the news. He assumed that the wounded rebel would be resting in the guest quarters where he'd left him, but discovered otherwise when there was no answer to his polite knock and soft call.
The next place he thought to look was the mobile suit bay. The Trowa he knew might very well have been waiting for the arrival of his Gundam and might attempt to oversee the repairs himself, in spite of his condition, which had to be exhausted at the very least. However Quatre did not find him there either.
One of the Maganacs eventually told him they'd seen the young man walking along the edge of the small scout post that was one of the few ways out of the concealed base.
Hurrying to the lookout, he did indeed find Trowa, walking along the narrow top of the guard rail, pausing occasionally to gaze up at the stars and the moon.
"The Maganacs have begun repairs on your Gundam," Quatre called out, as he made his way to the rail. Inside, he struggled with the truth, knowing that this Trowa was different. He wasn't the Trowa he knew. Still, in his heart, he wanted so much for it to be true. Even though he knew that he, of all people, did not deserve so great a boon as this, it did not stop the desire for reality to bend and make it so.
"Aren't you tired? You should be exhausted," Quatre said, moving closer to Trowa on the rail.
The green-eyed young man smiled and jumped lightly down from the rail. "It is you who should be tired," he said, closing the slight distance between them. His eyes roamed over Quatre's face. "You... saved me." He lifted one hand and lightly brushed his fingertips through the gold hair. He was very close. And his eyes were fixed on Quatre in a way the young man had never seen before.
Quatre felt his cheeks warm slightly at the contact. He had almost taken a step back, but had found himself held still by the fingers in his hair. The touch and the look were both intimate in a way that both stirred and awakened his senses and confused him at the same time.
"It... it was nothing you wouldn't have done for me," he answered, feeling something that felt a part of him and yet not. His nostrils flared slightly, as if to pick up some errant scent that was supposed to have been present between them. Lotus and geranium, Quatre thought, not knowing where the thought came from, but knowing that it was the correct answer.
"Is that really true?" Trowa asked softly. He smiled. "When I opened my eyes and saw that strange light on your hair, as gold as the rays of the Sun, I thought Aten had come to earth himself." With a sigh, Trowa shook his head and his hand fell back to his side. "Yet I think... I think I remember that... I... have not always been kind to you... or am I confused?"
Quatre shook his head and looked down. "You had no idea who I was, Trowa. We fought opposite each other and when we met again, it was as independent agents working for the good of our individual colonies," Quatre said, feeling suddenly very weary.
This was the moment he had sought to delay. He knew that it would do no good to hide from it now. He was responsible. He had picked up the scroll and somehow Trowa had gotten better. But, the price of his folly was that the cure had changed him. It was time for him to own up to his part. Taking a deep breath, Quatre felt his shoulders slump with the weight of his confession. "You aren't confused, Trowa," he said. "I don't blame you for anything. I'm sure I was a little overzealous when we met." Looking back up into the green eyes, Quatre felt his hand move up over his heart. "Oh Trowa, please forgive me. I... I have done something... I should have not given over to what I wanted, not interfered... I just didn't want you to die. I wanted you alive and I didn't ask you what you desired. It's changed you. I'm so sorry," he said, not bothering to mask the tears.
Trowa's eyes flew open. He looked away into the night for a moment and then back. "Is it such a... terrible change?" he said, his voice barely audible. As if he didn't expect an answer - or knew what it would be, he sighed again, and then slowly leaned closer and kissed Quatre on the lips.
Quatre shivered at the touch. Once again, his nostrils opened and this time, he imagined the scent was there. Oddly, it seemed to comfort him. His eyes opened slowly and though he knew he should feel embarrassed, he didn't. "No," he answered, softly.
Looking up at Trowa for a long moment, Quatre said, "It's just different. But, how is this for you? That is what's important."
Trowa leaned back just as slowly as he had bent down. The one green eye that Quatre could see clearly seemed oddly vulnerable, and oddly weary. "For me... it is the answer to a prayer." Stepping back, he turned and looked out at the night sky. "Be patient. Perhaps... in time... I'll be the way I was again. Just give me a little time."
Reaching out, too tired to care or stand on formalities, Quatre took Trowa's hand. Raising it to his cheek, he said, "Be what you are. I can help you fill in some of the details. I cannot tell you how grateful I am to be standing here with you. I just didn't want you to be angry with me, Trowa. Anything else, can be worked out, I'm certain of it."
Trowa cupped his hand against Quatre's cheek and gazed at him tenderly. "You are as courageous as you are kind," he said quietly. "I could never be angry with you. And you *are* exhausted, my bright prince. Let's go to your room where you can rest." Turning away from the look-out, Trowa's eyes flickered as a distant shadow seemed to catch his attention on the dunes far away. But when he looked directly at it, there was nothing. "Will you let me rest at your side? I'd be happy to sit in a chair and guard your sleep."
Quatre felt a great weight roll from his heart. "Yes, come with me," he said. "You don't have to guard me. We are safe here. But, I would like it if you rested with me. "
Clasping Quatre's hand in his, Trowa waited to be led to the blond pilot's room. Once there, he removed his boots, and climbed onto the low, flat bed, resting his arms lightly around the other boy as he soothed him to sleep with light touches on his hair and back.
In his dreams, Quatre heard a voice calling him. It seemed to be Trowa's voice, yet it formed no words. Still the call came again and again, as if from a distance, but getting closer each time.
Quatre woke with a start. He could hear the call in his head as he swallowed hard. Blinking to clear the sleep from his eyes, he was greeted by warmth all around him. Looking up, he saw Trowa's beautiful face in repose and leaned his head forward against the green-eyed pilot's chest as he willed his heart to slow. 'A dream' he thought, relaxing.
For a moment or two, he rested, thinking about where he was and the events of the night before. There were a great many things which should have shocked him, but had not. 'He... kissed me,' he thought, pondering the implications of it, then setting them aside. Certainly men kissed each other, especially in manner of his people, but this was a little different for him.
'I can't really see Trowa doing that,' he thought with a small smile. A slight blush crept across his features. 'Still, it didn't seem bad or awkward.' Looking up at Trowa again, Quatre shook his head. 'I wonder what's in front of us today, Trowa?' he thought absently.
As he glanced at Trowa's face, green eyes opened. A momentary wonder seemed to flicker through them before his expression became calm. "A new day," he murmured and smiled.
Before Quatre could answer, there was a knock on the door.
"Master?" Rashid's voice carried a tone of urgency and tension.
Quatre sat up and went to answer the door. "Yes, Rashid," he said, opening the door.
"There's been trouble," the tall Maganac leader said quietly. "Someone, or something, broke into the base last night. Fortunately the Gundams were not damaged, but whatever it was either had some kind of powerful weapon or was incredibly strong..."
"What was damaged, Rashid?" Quatre asked, sitting back down on the bed.
"A concealed entranceway, some internal doors, some tools and equipment were strewed around. Our youngest member, Ardeth Bey was on watch and he claims he was hit on the head by something silent and strong," Rashid explained. "I'd think it was an OZ scout except it left at dawn. It doesn't make any sense."
Quatre glanced over at Trowa and then nodded. "If it was OZ, we'd know about it by now. I guess we keep on our guard and get the repairs done as quickly as possible," he said.
"They are being finished right now," Rashid said, glancing into the room to see Trowa sitting on the bed. His eyes widened and then he quickly looked somewhere else. "And the OZ patrols that we *have* spotted are being unusually persistent. They have been through the West Valley three or four times - they keep going back there for some reason. I think it would be a good idea for the... two of you to get out of the area as soon as you can."
"Yes, we should go," Trowa said, sitting up.
"I agree," Quatre said, standing. "We'll be in the bay as soon as I change, Rashid," he added, unfastening his shirt.
The young soldier pushed her goggles up onto her forehead and triggered the hatch to her Taurus reluctantly. Jumping down from the cockpit, she shielded her face from a gust of sand-laden wind and quickly climbed up the rocks and into the barely accessible hole in the cliff face.
Why the hell was the General wasting time in this god-forsaken excuse for a cave? He seemed to be putting an unwarranted amount of credence in the reports of some line troops that "something" had come out of here and caused mayhem among the searching teams. It was nothing more than an excuse for incompetence. If that "something" weren't two Gundam pilots, there was no point in giving it any attention. The fact that they'd nearly had two of the elusive rebels and had lost them in a sandstorm the day before was another clue to what she had been attempting to advise the General all along - not to use local troops at all for an operation as important as the capture of the Gundams.
Lt. Noin brushed her dark hair back from her forehead absently before it fell back over the pushed up goggles again. Delays like this drove her crazy. They interfered with her primary, personal mission. To find out what had happened to Zechs Merquise. Hearing the rumors of his apparent disappearance, and the suggestions of everything from a concealed bloody demise to acts of treason, she'd gathered her nerve and confronted General Khushrenada, only to find herself appropriated as aide de camp. With Zechs gone and Colonel Lady Une on a diplomatic mission to the Colonies, Treize apparently found himself in need of an able assistant and had somehow managed to persuade her that accepting the post would be the best way for her to accomplish her own goal of finding out the truth of what had happened to Zechs.
She found that he managed to get his way very easily, no matter how strictly she schooled herself to be direct, and get direct answers. It was difficult pinning down a superior officer who preferred to be evasive, which fed into his argument that by staying near him, she'd be privy to the most immediate and sensitive intelligence, and so she had been caught.
Climbing through the rubble-strewn passage, she eventually found herself stepping into the side tunnel and then into the chamber where the General stood, apparently pondering who could guess what. Stood in the dark - she had seen him turn on the wide-beamed high-powered lamp only when sounds of her approach were evident.
She did pause in mid-step for a moment, as the light revealed the contents of the room. Paintings covered the walls and ceiling, objects of antiquity occupied much of the area that wasn't filled by the large stone structure of the sarcophagus. Her breath caught in spite of herself and she recalled a fragment of a long ago history lecture, discussing archeological discoveries of the pre-Colony times, and a quote from someone named Howard Carter to his patron Lord Carnarvon upon glimpsing the inside of the nearly intact tomb of a young pharaoh, "Wonderful things!" There were wonderful things here, too. It was beyond conception that such had remained here without being carried away by tomb robbers for so many hundreds of centuries.
"It's not often I encounter something which makes *me* feel young," Treize remarked, his voice startling her. The remark made no sense and she ignored it after her heart returned to normal speed.
Clearing her throat, a nervous gesture she knew she was making too often these days, she said, "It's very impressive, sir. But our priority is finding the Gundam pilots."
"Indeed," he answered, that discernable hint of private amusement in his tone which nearly drove her crazy in the last few weeks. "Hunting Gundam pilots is not quite like hunting any other kind of animal, Lt. Our efforts have failed so often because of lack of understanding of the quarry. We need to take into account what motivates them. What affects them. Then with luck we may be able to predict them."
Like so much of what he said, she found it difficult to understand. Her goal was to find Zechs. Zechs had disappeared after an encounter with something... something that seemed to have been tied in with the Gundams. Therefore they must capture one of the Gundam pilots and interrogate him, to find out what had happened to Zechs.
"Do you recall the descriptions of the attack on Sachsen?" Treize said, gathering her attention sharply with the name of the base where Zechs had disappeared.
"Of course, sir," she answered quickly. "Though I admit I'm still skeptical of them."
"Your skepticism is one of the things I admire in you," Treize said with a smile. "However.... unusual strength, mysterious or indescribable appearance... not unlike the descriptions of what came out of this tomb..."
Noin blinked. Since he drew the parallel, she could almost see it, but still... there wasn't enough information to make such a comparison, much less confirm or eliminate it. Nevertheless, he had her complete attention now.
"I'm not wasting time here," he said. "I'm gathering data. The data I have gathered is leading me towards a possible destination. I have a hunch where to set the trap, Lt."
The General's flashes of brilliance were legendary, and Zechs had certainly respected them. Though she knew she didn't have the capability to follow, she decided yet again to give in to his will and support his decisions. She saluted sharply. "Yes sir!"
Blue eyes twinkling slightly in momentary, but still satisfying victory, Treize gave his orders. "Have this place sealed up and guarded. I would hate to be guilty of destroying such a priceless find. When the war is over, I'll supervise the excavation myself. In the meantime, leaving it protected, we'll go north. They've gone to ground for the moment but they won't stay still. If we strew the floor with salt, we'll catch their footprints in it."
Rolling her eyes inwardly at yet another of his bizarre references, she nevertheless grabbed her communicator and began issuing orders to fulfill the General's instructions. She understood enough from her time with him to recognize that he had a plan, and one of Treize's plans was still worth any twenty of another commander's. The only strategist she had more respect for was Zechs.
'We're going to catch you this time,' she thought to the absent Gundams, turning on her heel to implement the rest of the orders. Her eye caught a relief carving on the wall - quite beautiful except for the chisel marks that had intentionally removed the pictured person's face. Hesitating a moment, she glanced back at the lidless sarcophagus. "Is there... anything *in* there?" she asked, almost unwillingly.
Treize ran a bare finger along the edge of the stone enclosure and then looked up, slapping the glove in his other hand against his thigh.
"No," he said, and there was a hint of both regret, and intense interest in his cultured voice. "No, there isn't, now."
Trowa returned to his habitual quietude as they changed clothes and then made their way by elevator down to the level of the mobile suit bay. The huge open room was lined with the Maganacs' suits, the two Gundams at the near end dwarfing the others for size.
"We were able to refill all your ammunitions stocks and make the minor repairs to the armor," Abdula explained. "Everything in the cockpit should be in working order as well."
Trowa gazed up at the massive Gundam as if he had never seen it before. Softly, too softly for anyone but Quatre to hear, he murmured, "This is a... war machine."
"Thank you, Abdula," Quatre said. He then took Trowa's arm, moving them slightly apart from the others.
A part of him had wondered about this moment on the way down, but he had hoped Trowa would at least remembered his Gundam, if nothing else. "Yes, this is a war machine. More importantly, it's your war machine... HeavyArms," Quatre said, looking up to the great machine and back.
Trowa's lips pressed together and then he nodded stiffly. In a low voice, intended to carry only to Quatre, he said, "We are being pursued by enemies? We must take these machines and go..." Closing his eyes for a moment, he opened them and looked at his hands. "The ka... the ka will remember," he muttered, even softer than the last remark. Looking up, he said aloud. "There's a seat," his eyes lighting on the open cockpit. "How... how do I ascend?"
Quatre nodded. "Like this," he said and then walked over to the foot guide. Placing one foot on the guide, he took the wire in one hand and gave it a tug. Moments later, the wire reversed and wound itself back to its closed position, of SandRock. Placing one foot on the guide, he took the wire in one hand and gave it a tug. Moments later, the wire reversed and wound itself back, pulling Quatre up to the cockpit platform.
Taking a breath, Trowa reached out for the same device on the orange and white mobile suit in front of him. The pulley drew him upwards and he found a position in the pilot's chair. There was a longer moment of hesitation than seemed normal, and then the cockpit closed.
Both Gundams had been cloaked with tan colored material to give them some visual camouflage. Rashid had reported that the OZ activity still seemed centered around the Valley of Kings, leaving the north fairly clear. East and west, the desert made travel too dangerous. The Maganacs would guard their backs from the south and delay any pursuit from the Valley. Given what they had to work with, it was about the best they could do.
HeavyArms' movement was tentative at first, but the Gundam *was* walking. Dividing the Corps into two groups, one of which would stay at the base, the other providing escort for the Gundams until they were out of the area, Rashid contacted Quatre on a private channel.
"Master?" the tall Maganac leader was reluctant to voice his concerns but even more so to take chances with Master Quatre's safety. "The other Gundam pilot seems... a bit out of it. Are you going to be okay with him?"
"Yes," Quatre answered, perhaps a bit too quickly. Then, taking a breath himself, he added, "He was fine when we returned, but he did take a pretty nasty fall in the ... cave. He'll be all right, Rashid."
"Yes, Master," Rashid acknowledged, trying to keep the doubt from his voice.
They made good time, encountering no surprises from OZ patrols. Using the edges of the desert for cover, they still paralleled the course of the Nile as they headed north. More startling was the way Trowa seemed to recognize where there were and on a couple of occasions guided them across areas that were less familiar to the Maganacs. As the day wore on, he seemed to become more eager to forge ahead, bringing them to a rise from which they could overlook the Nile itself as dusk began to fall. The tall machine seemed to gaze across the wide river, almost to strain towards it. Then, breaking the radio silence they'd observed for most of the trip, he simply transmitted, "We need to cross."
Without waiting for an answer, HeavyArms began to descend. Fortunately there was no traffic on the river right then. The Gundam hesitated on the bank and then suddenly fired the suit's jet that could be used for short distances over land. Coming to rest on the opposite shore, the Gundam moved away from the river as if seeking a destination it recognized clearly.
Quatre watched from his monitors and then followed. Once across the river, he did a check of the area and relaxed. No patrols appeared on his screens. He moved SandRock to catch up to HeavyArms, wondering and concerned about Trowa.
Some instinct brought the Gundam around the edges of a series of ruins that had been beside the river for time out of mind. Crouching against the cliff face, HeavyArms stopped and then the cockpit opened. There was enough light from the setting sun to see Trowa jump down, and then begin walking into the midst of the ruins, stopping beside a broken wall to stand as still as a statue.
Quatre moved SandRock nearby and powered it down. Opening the cockpit, he emerged and went to stand next to Trowa. "You did well," he said, a little hesitantly. "What's... " he began and then stopped himself.
Trowa turned to look down and the look in his eyes sent a shiver through Quatre. It was like gazing at something incredibly old.
"Do you know this place?" he asked quietly.
Quatre fell silent for a moment, and then responded, "I know of this place." Looking over the broken wall and around the ruins, he recalled what he knew of the ancient city. "It was once the City of Amarna, built by Akhenaten, the Pharaoh. He was called the Heretic and he built this city to honor the One God, Aten," he said.
Something seemed to swirl in Trowa eyes. "So they remember him," he whispered. His hands fell on Quatre's shoulders. "They call him heretic..." Then Trowa shook his head sharply. Taking a deep breath, he released Quatre. "The scrolls, do you still have them?"
Quatre's hand moved down to the pouch at his side. "Yes," he replied touching the outside of the bag where the scrolls were stored.
Trowa nodded and smiled slightly. "Keep them close," he said simply. Looking up at the darkening sky, he added, "I would like to stay here tonight. Will that put you in any danger?"
Quatre smiled. "No, it will not. I would like to stay with you," he said, hopefully.
For an answer, Trowa simply closed his arms around Quatre's slim shoulders and embraced him gently.
Quatre felt his heartbeat increase. Hesitantly at first, he moved his arms around Trowa's waist to complete the circle.
Laying on her stomach on the cliffs above, Noin looked through the distance viewers and shook her head. "How the hell did he know they'd come here?" she muttered. The General's instructions had been crystal clear. They were to wait until the small party camped for the night. There was no point in fighting a mobile suit battle when they could surprise the pilots outside of their suits.
Posting sentries, Rashid was extremely uncomfortable with the arrangements for the night but sensed that Quatre was going to go along with whatever the other Gundam pilot wanted. Not normally superstitious, he felt an odd chill each time he got close to the brown haired young man and found his eyes constantly drawn to the boy's shadow for some reason. Even worse was the way that shape seemed to vary in odd ways. Distorted by odd angles of light, probably, but it gave him a very unsettled feeling. He decided to stay on watch himself through the night.
Although they had sleeping bags laid out, Trowa sat up on his, with his back against a wall, as if he had no intention of sleeping. He watched the stars come out as the light faded. With a whisper, he bid the sun farewell as if he never expected to see it again, making sure the blond Arabian's attention was elsewhere when he did it.
"This place is so beautiful," Quatre said, feeling the night breeze tickle his cheek. "Everything feels connected to everything else. I sometimes wonder if the people know just how beautiful it all is."
Filling his lungs with the night air, he turned and went to the wall to sit next to Trowa. Suddenly, he remembered a part of the waking dream, and looked down. "Everything in its own time," he said, softly.
Trowa looked over sharply and then sighed. "When the time comes, will you forgive me?" he murmured. Then before Quatre could ask anything, he lifted Quatre's face in his hands and kissed him. This kiss lasted longer than the first, as he slowly savored the taste of Quatre's mouth. It seemed to hint at knowledge of more.
Quatre fell into the kiss, following Trowa's lead. This time, there was no hesitation as he reached for more. The question of forgiveness was in his mind, but he felt it would be him who would need to be forgiven, not Trowa. Raising his hand, he slid it along the long expanse of Trowa's neck, while truth rose in his mind, telling him that this was not the Trowa he knew. Stealing a moment or two longer, Quatre moved back reluctantly.
"You loved him deeply," he whispered into the small space that separated them. Images from the tomb and sarcophagus, filled his mind. "Not even time can destroy that."
Trowa's eyes widened as he stared down at Quatre's face. He appeared to have been struck speechless. His arms wound around Quatre and he held him tightly, tension in his slender frame leaving slowly. Even as his arms relaxed, Quatre felt something. It wasn't something from the person next to him. It was from outside of the camp, coming closer. It was a wordless but somehow familiar call.
This time Quatre relaxed. The call did not disturb him quite as much as before. His own desires and intentions coalesced and for the first time in his life, he felt a kind of freedom he had never known. It had nothing to do with desperation or drowning need. Closing his eyes a moment, he sighed and then looked out over the night desert. "He comes," he said, quietly.
Because the object of the exercise was not to kill the Gundam pilots but capture them, Treize ordered that the small unit of mobile suits in the ambush force be kept back, and the main ambush be done by ground troops. As they watched the camp settle for the night, Noin noted that two of the Maganac suits remained manned and on alert. She divided her attack force into two groups and sent them around to the two enemy suits' positions with orders to remain dark and silent until they were as close as they could get. Then she sent the ground forces to the two open sides. Treize took up an observing position on the cliffs above.
Noin felt a sense of anticipatory triumph that she was going to be the first officer to successfully capture Gundam pilots, and of course, their Gundams as well. Too bad Lady Une was off planet, it would have been satisfying to have seen her face at the news. It would be even more satisfying to tell Zechs... Biting down on that thought, she gave the signal to advance.
At first it seemed to be going like clockwork.
Then one of her contingent of Leos sent a garbled message about a problem. Sounds of combat, some kind of explosion... then the other detail, which had backed the Maganac sentry against the cliff face, radioed something about a flying shadow... and then more explosions.
"What the hell is happening?" she yelled into the comm unit, as she jumped into her Taurus. At the same moment, a communication window popped up on her screen showing Treize at his vantage on the cliff.
"Don't go down there, Lt." he said.
"Sir, there has been some kind of screw-up...."
"Don't go down there, Lt. That's a direct order. "
"But sir!"
Cursing silently, she debated for about two seconds what kind of punishment Treize might select for insubordination, then powered up the Taurus and headed for the camp.
"He comes," Quatre said quietly. Then suddenly a lot of things were happening, most of them anything but quiet.
"We're under attack! It's OZ!" The cry came over one of the sentry mobile suit speakers, at almost the same time that soldiers seemed to come out of the darkness to surround them. There was a great deal of weapons fire, but Quatre realized that most of it was going wide or over their heads, attempting the herd the small group of rebels who'd been caught away from their mobile suits together, and in a direction away from where the Gundams were positioned, under the cliff wall.
Quatre looked up at Trowa for a moment. "We've got to help them!" he called out, reaching for his comm unit. "SandRock!" he called into the device. "Stand!"
The white Gundam powered up, causing a few cries from the enemy troops and drawing their fire. The arms that the soldiers had couldn't even scratch the Gundanium armor.
"Oh SHIT!" Noin cursed as she approached the camp and saw the Gundam they called 04 rise to its feet. "How the hell did the pilot get in there?" With her Leos apparently in chaos, the single Gundam alone had the ability to route her ground forces. She had no choice but to take it on herself.
Still observing from the small communications window, Treize said calmly, "You will remember I told you not to go down there."
"I have to support my troops, *sir*," she ground out. Taking on a Gundam one on one was a job for Zechs, with Tallgeese, but she wasn't going to be a coward now.
"Admirable," Treize commented. "If displaced."
Banging a hand on the console she shut his window.
Quickly moving forward, she saw the Maganacs, rebels, form a tight group around two figures, one of them diminutive and blond, the other with a swath of hair across half his face. But she didn't have time to ponder that puzzle, the Gundam stood before her. So far 03 hadn't shown any signs of life, so the pilot was probably among the group, but 04 didn't seem to be moving forward or doing anything except standing there. Boldly she advanced towards it, her Taurus moving into the middle of the camp and the ancient ruins there, which she paid little attention to.
Quatre saw the white Taurus advance towards SandRock, clearly intent on engaging it, and just as clearly ignoring the people on the ground including himself. The ground troops however had taken courage from the appearance of the Taurus and were pressing in again, as the Maganacs fired back with small arms.
Rashid placed himself in front of Quatre, shielding the young pilot with his broad frame. They were dreadfully outnumbered, however and were being driven back, and incidentally in front of the Taurus's path.
Then something appeared behind the OZ troops that were pressing forward. It was a shape, shadowed until it moved into the lights being thrown by the Taurus. Swathed in what looked like yellowed bandages, it seemed to move into the air and land in front of the startled soldiers. It had no face or features, and hardly seemed aware of bullets striking it. Arms swept and men went flying. Sheer terror at the sight of the apparition cast back the rest.
Noin stopped in mid stride and stared at the shape in front of her, jaw dropping open. "No frickin way..."
She was even further startled when the faceless figure turned toward her with what looked a lot like menacing intent. It didn't even occur to her to fire her weapon. What could this thing do anyway? She was in a mobile suit!
The entity apparently didn't consider that a problem. She saw it place bandage-swathed limbs against the base of her machine's left foot, and then felt her world begin to tilt.
Quatre's eyes widened as he saw the figure touch the Taurus and the machine tilt backwards. He shivered at the sheer power and vision of the apparition before him. "Rashid," he said, finding his voice steady. "Get the men away from here."
"We're not leaving you, Master," the headman insisted, his own eyes wide as he stared at what was taking place.
"It's a spirit of vengeance from one of the old tombs!" one of the men called, his voice cracking.
"Not vengeance," Trowa said quietly. "Justice."
The Maganac nearest Trowa stepped back a little.
Noin was thrown hard against the pilot's harness as her world went from vertical to horizontal. Before she could shake herself and figure out what the hell to do next, she felt something take hold of the Taurus, but not from in front, where the apparition had been, but rather from behind her. Twisting frantically to see what was happening in her cameras, she spotted a Leo behind her, having grappled onto her suit, pulling her backwards.
A communication window winked open, showing Treize at the controls of the Leo. "I think I told you not to go down there," he said mildly as he dragged her into the darkness and away from the camp.
The OZ troops scattered, totally unnerved by the attack and further by seeing the weird creature push over a mobile suit.
An odd quiet fell on the camp and ruins, as the white Taurus was pulled out of sight.
The bandage-wrapped figure turned, its attention focusing somehow on the small group of people clustered together.
Rashid drew in an audible breath and as one, the small group of Maganacs around Quatre and Trowa pointed their weapons at the figure.
"Get in your Gundams, Master!"
"No!" Quatre called out. "Put your weapons down," he added, stepping out in front of Rashid. "Please."
Placing his hand on the pouch with the scrolls tucked inside, he moved forward a few steps. His senses sent back information in the form of energy. This bandaged apparition, this mummy, was much more than he appeared.
The figure paused as Quatre stepped forward. It seemed to hesitate. Then slowly it raised its linen-wrapped hands, bent its head as if to look down at them, and then back up. It seemed to shudder. Then it took a step back.
"Wait," Quatre said, moving forward to stand in front of the figure.
It was a bit taller than he was, but Quatre felt that this was the right action to take. Reaching out, he touched one of the wrapped hands, then grasped it in his own. "I know who you are," he said, quietly.
The linen felt dry under his touch, dry and cool.
Another shudder seemed to run through the entity. Quatre felt it pulling back, using none of the strength it had shown before.
Behind him, he heard a familiar voice.
"Read the scroll," Trowa said calmly.
Quatre felt his shoulders set. This was the time. Reaching into the pouch, he removed the scroll and unfurled it. Moving to one side, he looked up at Trowa and then bowed. "It has been an honor to meet you, Pharaoh Smenkhkare. You will be remembered in my heart forever." Looking down, Quatre began to read:
"A unui uat apui matennu en baiu menXu em pa en Ausar un aref-ten - nef uat apu aref-ten matennu en ba en Ausar an hesb neter hetepu..." the words rolled through the night, seeming to take on power from the ruins around them, and echo back. Quatre read on.
As he finished the invocation, there was a soft sigh from the boy beside him and Trowa's eyes closed as he slipped onto the ground in a faint.
The bandage-wrapped figure seemed to shake, as if blown by a strong and unseen wind.
Then a stillness fell. The entity turned slowly, facing Quatre fully. Somehow the blind face seemed to stare into his eyes. One hand lifted slowly, as if it had lost most of its strength, and touched a place over the left side of its chest.
Then it turned around and walked slowly out of the camp and into the desert night.
Quatre sank to his knees. Moving to Trowa, he pulled the pilot of HeavyArms into his lap. "Rashid, do we have water?" he asked, giving himself a moment.
Rashid shook himself out of a slight trance. "Of course, Master!" Quickly he handed Quatre a water bottle and then ordered the Maganacs to activate their suits and scout around the camp to see if the OZ assault was going to be renewed.
Opening the bottle, Quatre drank a little for himself and then placed it at Trowa's mouth. "It's over," he said. "You're safe now."
Trowa's eyes fluttered open. Automatically, he took a drink from the bottle at his lips. Then he looked up at Quatre, his eyes showing a combination of confusion and something else, a little darker.
"T-tell me... this has all been some kind of... weird dream," he said, his voice sounding rough, almost unused.
Quatre bowed his head with some relief. "I... I wish I could," he said. "How are you, Trowa? How do you feel?"
"I feel... like shit," Trowa muttered, struggling to sit up. He looked into Quatre's eyes from rather closer than he was accustomed to being with another person. Wondering for a moment why it didn't feel uncomfortable, he added, "But I'm alive."
"That's good," Quatre said with a tired smile. "I'm glad you're alive. You'll probably need a check up and some rest." Looking at the green-eyed pilot, Quatre thought of the previous night and then set the memory aside. He was pleased at the outcome and grateful that his actions didn't seem to have permanently harmed Trowa.
Trowa found it a little difficult to look away from the blond pilot's face for some reason. Shaking himself, he got to his feet, reaching down to give Quatre a hand up without thinking.
"Where the hell are we?" he said aloud, looking around. Then, "Wait, I know this place..." His eyes narrowed. "OZ... there was an OZ ambush. We need to get out of here."
Rashid approached the two, having received reports from the Maganacs' scounting. "That would be a very good idea. They've pulled back, but we can't guarantee they'll keep their distance." He look thoughtfully at the HeavyArms pilot, sensing a difference in him. "It might be best if we split up. Let us lead any pursuit away, giving you two time to escape. I've contacted our men back at the base. They are sending a transport craft that can take your two Gundams."
Trowa nodded, then looked at Quatre to see what he would say.
"Thank you, Rashid," Quatre said. "I'll contact you when we reach our destination." Reaching up, he took the self-destruct for HeavyArms from around his neck. "I guess, you'll be needing this back," he said to Trowa.
Trowa's hand wrapped around the device and he stared at Quatre for a moment, as if trying to reconcile memories again. Not quite sure where the impulse was coming from, he leaned closer and said quietly, "We *will* talk about this, as soon as we have a quiet moment."
The close proximity of Trowa made Quatre's face flush. "Yes," he said, definitely. "I think you're owed an explanation."
"Hn," Trowa murmured, before turning to check on HeavyArms.
End of Part Two
Please feel free to direct feedback to the authors!
sablexo1@yahoo.com,
bonnejeanne@yahoo.com.