05-Jun-2000
Mwa hah hah hah! I'm at it again, starting something
new when I haven't finished any of my other fics yet!
Bwah ha ha! (hack, cough) Ahem. Well, this makes how
many fics to work on?
(Duo: Gee, not too many...
Trowa's Revenge, Nothing in Common, Brother Maxwell,
Conversations, Twenty Years After... those are the big
ones, I think.)
(Heero: I am disgusted, TB, by your
shameless plug for your own work.)
(TB: <innocently>
What? Duo named all those by himself. I didn't even
have to pay him! <muttering> Here's five bucks, Braid
Boy. Go buy some porn or something.)
Title: Breaking Predestination 1/?
Author: TB
Archive: not yet ^_^
Catagory: AU, some yaoi
Pairing(s): R+1, 2x1, 5xSally
Rating: R
Warnings: Confusing fic
Spoilers: Yes (but not this part)
Notes: This takes place in AC 202. The series and EW
are canon for the fic. I stole all my knowledge of
military-ish rank from Star Trek.
Feedback: please? Suggestions are extremely welcome. This
is just a first draft. If you really give good help,
I'll really give good credit :D
Disclaimers: I don't own GW or the boys, and I'm not
attempting to impinge on copyright laws and profit
here.
PS /blah/ is radio stuff, *blah* is emphasis or
thoughts
Have a great day, everyone! ~TB
"This is Yuy," Heero intoned, as he gunned the blasters just a little, to coast forward the extra kilometres he wanted. "Reporting an unidentified space-going vessel in Earth-Sphere territory. I'm going to attempt to establish contact now."
/"We've got you, Yuy. Keep us notified."/
"Roger," he replied, and opened a new transmissions line. "This is Heero Yuy of the Earth Sphere Alliance Mobile Troops. Identify yourself."
Visual contact fizzled in and out; frowning, he attempted to clear it up, but did not succeeded. He opened a broader bandwidth and tried again. "This is Heero Yuy of the Earth Sphere Alliance Mobile Troops. Identify yourself."
Crackled and popping words reached back to him, flooding the interior of his mobile suit.
/"Heero Yuy, this... space vessel Angel-5. We're... need of assistance."/
"What is the nature of your emergency?" he asked, not quite ready to offer anything yet.
/"Failure of bridge control... lost our first engi... You read?"/
It sounded fairly serious. Heero radioed his command on Earth. "I'm going to see if I can help them. Get a tow crew out here, I'm transmitting the co-ordinates at the end of this message. Yuy out." He guided his ms to the nearest port he saw, and re-opened the communications with the ship. "Permission to board your vessel."
There was a long pause. Just when he would have repeated himself, the answer came. /"You're alone?"/
He frowned. What kind of question was that? "Yes."
Another paused. /"Permission granted. Angel-5 out."/
Heero made sure that there would be no difficulties involved in leaving his own suit for the ship, then flung open the hatch, ignored the safety line that a few men in coveralls where throwing to him, and merely jumped the distance between his ms and the open hatch. The men, engineers probably, stared at him; then one shut the hatch, shrugging, and the other was bobbing his head in a half-hearted salute.
"Captain wants you on the bridge before he lets you wander about, sir," he said.
Heero nodded. Standard protocol. At least *something* was running on this ship. It didn't look any better on the inside than it had on the out--grime and overheating were the prominent details of Heero's preliminary observations. He followed the engineer up a ladder to a different level, and then to lift which bumped and jerked them in a generally "upward" direction.
When the lift finally stopped, it opened to reveal a dark-haired woman. The engineer passed Heero off to her, and she saluted the pilot as the lift disappeared back to the bowels of the ship.
"I'm the Second Commander of Angel-5," she introduced herself shortly. Her uniform, if it could be called that, was old and worn. Her face was thin and there were lines around her eyes and mouth that didn't seem congruent with her age, which Heero guessed was around early forties. Her hair was black and wavy and her body was lean and hard; in the heat of the ship, she was sweating lightly. With a curt word or two, she directed him to follow her, and so he did.
A short walk brought them to the bridge. Heero disliked it instantly. It was crowded and distractingly loud; beeps and blips assaulted the consciousness over the dull hum of large computers and too many human voices all vying for attention. All that noise, however, suddenly died off as Heero and the woman entered the sweltering room.
Everyone had the same kind of uniform, Heero noticed as he walked. Nothing near as fancy as OZ--or even his own plain coat and tags. All the clothing he saw was poorly made, ratty browns and blues, jackets with rolled-up sleeves worn over whatever shirt and trous the individual cared for.
"The Captain is this way," the woman said, jerking her head toward the centre of the bridge. "He's most anxious to see you."
Heero grunted.
The captain was a tall man in his mid-forties. He, like the others on the bridge, wore a uniform that had seen better days. Heero decided that the four studs in his left ear, made of plain steel, must be some kind of rank identification--the Commander wore three in the same fashion, and a few others he had seen also mimicked that. The Captain's hair was light brown, greying at the temples prematurely, and his large, long-lashed blue eyes were surrounded by deep, weary shadows.
*Whoever these people are,* Heero thought, *they're in trouble.* The Captain was tense as Heero came to a stop before him, and then the man slowly stood, as if not quite able to find his balance. His mouth opened, but no sound emerged.
The Commander spoke crisply. "Captain Maxwell. The occupant of the mobile suit."
"Heero Yuy." The Captain was staring--not overwhelmed or honoured or even uneasy, Heero noted, but... hungry. As if he had been starving, and Heero was nourishment offered just at the brink of death.
"A tow crew will be arriving shortly to get you safely to Earth," he said finally.
Captain Maxwell straightened. "Thank you," he nodded. He wiped sweat off his brow with one sleeve, and glanced around his bridge. "Come on, people," he snapped. "Get back to work."
Heero raised an eyebrow. *What the hell is going on, here?*
The older man looked back at him, that same lingering look as before; then he seemed to throw off whatever mood he was in, and made a sharp gesture to the Commander. "Hirde, with me. Mr. Yuy, if you'll come with me, I'll offer you some refreshments in the board room, and fill you in on our situation."
He grunted, and followed.
It was cooler in the board room--slightly. The Captain immediately shed his coat, revealing a grungy blue undertunic, and the Commander, with obvious relief, followed suit. Heero was poured a glass of water, which he accepted and did not drink, and sat in a hard metal chair across a plasi-glass table from the two officers.
Captain Maxwell stared at him for a long time, until even Heero began to feel a little uncomfortable. Finally, annoyed, he asked, "Well? What's your situation?"
The Commander replied. "We had a run-in with a hostile ship. We got out as soon as we could, but we took a fair amount of damage. This old girl doesn't hold out as well as she used to."
*"She" must be the ship.* It was an old-fashioned way to refer to a vessel; Heero hadn't heard it in a long time. The last person he'd known who'd referred to a machine as having a specific gender and personality was Duo, during the Eve war, calling his gundam his "partner."
"Hostile ship," he half-questioned. "Where?"
The Captain interjected, "Not important. We have the repairs under control. When we dock at the Reubena Satellite we'll get the rest done; it's not your concern."
"You obviously know your way around Earth's space," he noted. "You're native?"
"L2," the Commander corrected. "But the Reubena--"
"Hirde," the Captain rebuked. "It's only AC 202. The Reubena incident won't happen until 207--"
Heero was rapidly becoming very annoyed. "What's going on here?" he demanded bluntly. "When I ask you a question I expect an honest answer, or I'll tie you up in customs for so long you'll never see Earth. There's been *no* hostile activity in Earth-Sphere space for the past two years. I want to know where you had this 'run-in'--if you actually *did* suffer an attack--and I want to know who you people are, where you're registered, what--"
"Heero," the Captain interrupted. "Slow down a damn minute, will you?" He shoved his chair back and stood. The Commander automatically started to rise, but he shook his head. After a moment, the woman apparently decided to ignore him, and looked back at Heero.
"There hasn't been any hostile activity *yet*," she said.
Heero, about to make a cold reply to the Captain's harsh tone, stopped. "What?" he said slowly.
The woman's hard eyes were snapping. "You heard me, Yuy."
He got to his feet, planted his palms flat on the table, and leaned forward, scowling. "One more time," he grated, "*tell* *me* what is going on here."
The door opened, and three heads swivled to see who it was. And one jaw, belonging to Heero Yuy, dropped.
Quatre, wearing one of those faded blue jackets and sporting two studs in his ear, glanced disinterestedly at the open-mouthed pilot and focused instead on the Captain and Commander. "The tow crew is here," he said dispassionately.
Captain Maxwell nodded. "Thanks, Winn." With a slight nod, Quatre left, letting the door swing shut behind him.
The Commander folded her arms. "You were saying?" she smirked.
The Captain placed a warning hand on her shoulder. "He doesn't know," he muttered. "Give him a break."
Heero finally found his voice. "What was Quatre doing here?" he demanded, a little wildly. He knew with utter certainty that Quatre was on Earth, meeting at that very moment with Relena Peacecraft Dorian. He had seen the young businessman not an hour ago. There was no possible way for him to have left Sank and boarded this ship without Heero having heard something on the radio.
"Not Quatre," the Captain said. He crossed his arms and lifted his chin slightly... in a gesture that was suddenly familiar to Heero. "That was Shai Winner. Quatre's son."
"You don't recognise us, do you?" the Commander asked. "Or rather, you're beginning to, but you won't believe what your own eyes are telling you. For the Perfect Soldier, you're not doing so hot, are you--"
"Hirde," the Captain snapped.
Hirde. That name. Heero knew that name. He stared at the woman with the curling black hair... and then he stared at the man behind her, with the huge cobalt eyes and the name Maxwell...
"One last time," he muttered flatly. He slowly sat. "I'm asking one last time, and this time, you *will* answer. What. Is. Going. On. Here."
A small smile lit the Captain's face. "That's more like the Heero I remember," he said.
End Part 1
(:./erin/break1)
