30-Oct-2000
Hiya everybody! Here's number 10 of my infamous (okay, maybe not-so-famous) Xenogears/Gundam Wing crossover. . .finally! Phew--didn't realize writing technical stuff was so tough--I just wanna give extra kudos to my grandfather for answering all my dumb questions about mach speeds and stuff... Anywho, hope you enjoy--things start heating up again from here!
Title: The Longest Dream, Part 10
Author: Hope of Dawn
Feedback: C&C appreciated!
Archive: GW Addiction at http://www.geocities.com/fenris_wolf0
Legal stuff: None of these characters are mine. Gundam Wing belongs
to Bandai, Sunrise, and Sotsu Agency, among others--Xenogears belongs
to Squaresoft. For time-wasting purposes only and not for profit, so
don't sue, 'kay?
Writer's Notes: I tried to get as much of the technical details in
these upcoming parts right, given that I'm not a fighter pilot
myself, and real-world-type specs for the Gundams were practically
nonexistent. If there are inconsistencies, please let me know and
I'll fix 'em. Same warnings: a little language, a little angst, and a
lot of shonen-ai! As always, OOC-ness is left up to the reader to
decide.
After a time, the night ended; and with it, their fragile peace.
It was only a mild vibration at first. Faint tremors that hummed through the early morning stillness, and were easily ignored by the young pilots sleeping heavily on the rooftop of the desert base. Only when the rumblings continued and grew louder did they begin to twitch uneasily, their sleep-dimmed instincts roused to meet this unidentified intrusion.
Quatre was the first to awaken as the unaccustomed rumble of machinery rang false to his desert-bred ears. Scrubbing at sleep-bleared eyes, he tensed--listening as he lay inside the loose circle of Trowa's arms. After a moment the rumbling increased in intensity once again, and small scattered pieces of gravel danced and shifted in its wake. He frowned as he listened to the sound. It didn't seem to be coming from the surrounding desert air, but rather from beneath them, inside the base itself. Which meant...
He felt Trowa's arms tense slightly as the taller boy awoke. Quatre met the shuttered emerald gaze, knowing that the same unease had also brought Trowa to full alertness. Catching his lover's attention, he murmured a question.
"Machinery?"
Trowa shook his head incrementally. He knew what that rumble meant; it had been his cradle song among the mercenaries. "Mobile Suits," he replied in a whisper.
Quatre's eyes widened at the implications that statement. A single Mobile Suit didn't create the amount of noise that they were hearing. That meant a mass mobilization, and a potential battle in the offing. He straightened up reluctantly from his comfortable curl, wincing at the minor chorus of aches and pains that accompanied the movement. Despite his worry, though, he couldn't suppress a smile at the sight of the other pilots still curled up like puppies among a scattering of empty bottles and blankets. What he wouldn't give for a camera right about now...
Almost as if he was alerted by the thought, a single dark eye cracked open. Wufei raised his head groggily from the makeshift pillow of his forearm and glared impartially at the world from behind a curtain of disheveled hair. Then he pushed himself upright, poking Duo in the ribs in the process. The other pilot groaned and rolled over, curling himself tighter into a blanket-wrapped ball.
Wufei frowned, then winced as another loud rumble sent echoes through his throbbing head. He sat up carefully, and passed a hand over his sweating forehead as he watched Trowa and Quatre untangle themselves from their makeshift bedding.
"Am I hearing what I think I'm hearing?" he asked, closing his eyes. His temples throbbed relentlessly with the inevitable hangover. Damn Maxwell and his alcohol.
Quatre nodded. "Mobile Suits."
"At least a division or so; sounds like they're moving out," Trowa added quietly.
"Hrmp." The quiet grunt came from Heero. His narrowed eyes watched the horizon warily over Duo's tousled head. The first gray streaks of dawn were barely visible in the sky as they gradually revealed the deeply-shadowed desert; but there was no movement, no signs of activity.
"Ungh--someone start a war without us?" Duo asked muzzily against Heero's chest, muffled still by a blanket.
"Idiot. They're already in one, remember?" Wufei said. He poked the other boy roughly in the ribs. "So get up already, Maxwell. You're not fooling anyone."
Quatre chuckled slightly as Duo shifted over long enough to give Wufei a very thorough and obviously wide awake raspberry. All of them could sleep anywhere, and wake up almost instantly, courtesy of their training--a Gundam pilot who couldn't was usually a dead one. Duo just didn't like to admit he was awake before he had to.
Duo gave a magnificent, skull-cracking yawn and stretched lazily, listening with pleasure as muscle and bone popped into place. He rolled out of Heero's arms, freeing the other boy to move as well. Trying halfheartedly to finger-comb down stray pieces of the fuzzy, falling-apart braid, he winced in pain as the tangles refused to cooperate. Dammit, every single strand of hair hurt, and seemed bent on letting him know in no uncertain terms what they thought of last night's overindulgence. Duo snorted and muttered imprecations about certain justice-obsessed Asians even as he worked his hands through the heavy strands.
Wufei followed his example (though with a great deal more success) as he efficiently captured his much-shorter hair and rebound it back into its customary ponytail. Then the Shenlong pilot stretched carefully, ignoring Duo's morning-after grumblings. He paid extra attention to his damaged knee as he worked it back and forth; aside from some residual pain, it seemed to be functional.
Heero grunted as he rolled to his feet. A quick internal inventory noted the nausea and headache from their communal bender, then shoved it aside as an ignorable (and inevitable) pain. He walked and joined Trowa, who was listening intently to the sounds filtering through the door that led to the hangar below. Heero frowned as he heard the faint sounds of shouting that filtered through the rumble of machinery. The voices were angry--but he didn't hear the usual noise that would have accompanied an attack. He cocked his head in puzzlement as the other pilots straggled up to the door.
"Fight?" he asked Trowa. Trowa shrugged in response, even as he continued to listen intently.
"Only one way to find out," Duo remarked. His smile had an tigerish edge to it. "'Once more into the breach, dear friends?'"
With an oddly resigned kind of impatience, Quatre pushed open the door. As he started down the darkened stairs, he snorted. "I'm beginning to doubt we ever left."
"Fei, listen to me! It's suicide!" Bart darted forward and grabbed his best friend's shoulder in a bruising grip. Fei swung around as he was pulled to an abrupt halt, and faced his friend angrily, fists clenched. Mechanics and soldiers scurried around them, heedless of the confrontation as they frantically worked to ready the Yggdrasil. Off to one side, Sigurd watched the arguing young men anxiously, but refrained from interfering and continued his briefing of a group of Gear pilots.
"Bart, I have to go! Elly needs me!"
Bart pulled him out of the way as more Gears rumbled past towards the loading dock of the Yggdrasil hangar bay. "Listen. I don't care how powerful Xenogears is, you can't take on Neo-Kislev's entire forces by yourself! They'll just dogpile ya'--pull you down through sheer numbers!" Bart's single blue eye was intense as he pleaded with his reckless friend. "Wait for us. The Yggdrasil will be ready in another twenty minutes--once we're airborne, we'll be there in another forty. We can--"
Fei slapped his hand away. "That's too long! Elly needs help now, not an hour from now! I can't wait for the Yggdrasil to get loaded and underway."
Citan pushed his way past several pairs of cursing technicians with Billy and Emeralda behind him, hopping over the refueling lines in their way. "Be realistic, Fei. Even with Xenogears' flight capabilities, it would still take you at least thirty minutes to fly to Nisan. The attack would be fully underway even by the time you got there--something I'm sure Nicklay is counting on."
Fei growled in frustration. "And just how did Nicklay know I wouldn't be there, huh?" he snarled. Redirecting his attention away from his troop briefing, Sigurd met the furious brown gaze unflinchingly.
"Only those stationed here at this base knew of your presence, Fei. We kept it as low-key as we could--but the fact is that Nicklay apparently knew the minute you left Nisan's borders. He had to; a full-scale attack like this doesn't happen without a great deal of preparation."
"If that's the case, then why didn't we hear something?" Bart asked slowly. "Your intelligence net is usually better than this, Siggy."
"It is. I'm still investigating, but the preliminary evidence seems to show that certain areas of our intelligence have been intercepted." Sigurd watched his younger brother come to the same conclusion he had.
Bart slammed a hand into the metal-plated wall. "A traitor."
"Apparently."
"It doesn't matter," Fei interrupted, still seething. "I'm still going. Nisan's *my* responsibility, and I never should have left."
"What is so important about this 'Nisan'?" Quatre's clear, accented voice asked, cutting through the noise. Slipping out from the recesses of the hangar, the five Gundam pilots maneuvered warily through the rushing soldiers and scattered machinery that covered every inch of the decking. They stopped in front of the startled Fei and his companions; and Citan noted quietly that in the midst of this turmoil the five young men had instinctively tightened into a wary, defensive unit.
"Why is it under attack?" Quatre said again.
Bart took an angry step forward, hands on his belt. "That's none of your--"
"Nisan is the heart of stability for Aveh," Billy interjected. Ignoring the mildly surprised looks from the others, the ex-Etone priest continued on before an angry Bart could react.
"It's a small country, peaceful, with only a small self-defense force as its standing army. It poses absolutely no military threat to anyone. However, over the last two years the Church of Nisan has become a place of aid and hope for the refugees, which infuriates dictators like Nicklay. Add to that the fact that Nisan has always historically been allied with Aveh, and you have a very tempting target."
"If Neo-Kislev could crush Nisan, it would demoralize our forces completely and weaken our power base. It would also give them an excellent launching point from which to attack Aveh." Sigurd put in. "Normally we have a much larger military presence in the area in order to prevent something such as this, but with our recent... expeditions, our troops have been stretched far too thin."
* ...eerie... it's like Sank all over again... * Quatre thought, the memory of another peaceful country's defeat painfully acute even after all this time. Hard on the heels of that thought was a second realization as the empathic pilot read between the lines--deciphering the part that Sigurd had been too polite to mention. The simple fact that their rescue, and the resources it had required, had indirectly allowed this crisis to occur.
"How far?" Duo asked suddenly.
Billy jumped. "Huh?"
"How far is it from here?" Duo repeated impatiently, rolling his eyes.
Color rising to his cheeks, Billy said, "About 890 rells due northwest." Noticing the confusion in Duo's face, he backtracked slightly. "Oh, um... have you seen the mountains next to this base?"
"Yes," Trowa replied once it appeared the other pilot was at a loss.
"They're about... 6 rells away."
Trowa thought for a moment. "About 4 miles, at an estimate," he offered to Duo.
"Okay... so it's around 600 miles, give or take a few." Duo turned to his partner. "Heero?"
"Hn. 10 minutes."
Duo raised an eyebrow inquiringly at the rest of the pilots. "Well...?" Their expressions were all the answer he needed. "Done deal."
Without changing expression, Heero's entire demeanor suddenly changed, going tense and focused like a hawk spotting its prey. Nodding curtly at his fellow pilots, he darted away into the hangar.
"Don't forget to adjust for atmosphere!!" Duo shouted after him. A snort of derision floated back faintly over the noise, and he grinned as he looked at Fei expectantly.
"Well, what are you waiting for? An engraved invitation?"
Fei shifted, torn between anger and confusion. "I don't quite understand. Is he offering to back me up?"
"Hell, no! You're gonna be *his* backup," Duo replied, smirking. "Though if I were you, I'd open those hangar doors before he decides to do it for you."
Confused but willing to accept the self-assured words at face value, Fei nodded and ran for Xenogears. Ultimately he had to do something; and his concerns for Elly overrode his doubts about this odd form of assistance.
"Fei!" Citan called after him, without success. Putting his hands on his hips, he turned angrily on the remaining Gundam pilots. "What do you mean, backup? How can he get there that fast? Plus have you even considered the fact that none of you are fully recovered yet, much less up to the stresses of piloting Gears?!" Duo's smirk took on a distinctly evil tinge at the doctor's disgruntlement, and Quatre decided to explain before the other pilot had a chance to antagonize their hosts any further.
"Wing is the fastest of all of our Gundams in flight, Dr. Uzuki," Quatre explained kindly. "It's really the best solution to your problem. And if what we have heard about Xenogears is true, then the two of them should be capable of slowing down the invasion until your reinforcements can arrive."
"I don't understand. How can a Gear move as fast as you say it does?" Citan asked more calmly.
With ponderous slowness the massive steel doors began to rumble aside, letting the pale dawn light into the hangar. Turning to face outward, Quatre said, "Watch."
Xenogears moved forward smoothly, wing extensions flaring with pale Ether energies as Fei maneuvered carefully around the other docked Gears and their peripheral equipment. With the ease of long practice, he lifted smoothly into the air outside of the desert base and hovered with Xenogears' usual effortless grace.
The four Gundam pilots watched the exotic Gear, scrutinizing it critically. They had all heard about this supposed 'God Gear', and its incredible abilities--anyone who had spent any time among the mechanics couldn't help but hear the talk. However rumor was one thing, and reality another. The true test of any machine was in performance, not engine specs.
Thus far, though, Xenogears was more than living up to its reputation. Under Fei's sure touch, the multi-winged, silvered form almost danced in the air, despite its size, and its smoothness and ease of movement spoke of power to spare to their watching eyes. The final judgments would come on the battlefield, of course, but... even just barely underway, Xenogears was undoubtedly impressive.
Fei's urgency was almost palpable, and it seemed as if it had transmitted itself to his Gear's movements. He headed out after a bare minimum of prep time, minus his 'backup', the Ether energies ebbing and flowing as they were roused to meet the Gear's demands. The Gundam pilots watched without comment as Xenogears' wings swept downward and back, the Ether engines boosting up to full power with a sudden roar. The silver-white Gear shot up and forward with a sudden flare of light, and in a handful of heartbeats Xenogears had dwindled to nothing more than a tiny silver form above the desert.
Then a new form stepped out toward the entrance.
Wing moved slowly forward, with none of the hovering grace of Xenogears; the impact of each massive step reverberated through the hangar and its startled occupants. Armor gleamed dully under the harsh lights, despite its still-grimy surface--and the green eye-sensors flared underneath the shadow of the helmet as the Gundam freed itself from its docking bay. With an oddly ponderous grace, it maneuvered through the hangar doors and into the desert. Once there, however, it froze in mid-step, tilting slightly as it sank into the sand.
"...always has to be dramatic, doesn't he?" Wufei muttered quietly to Quatre, who smothered a chuckle behind one hand.
Duo could feel the mingled anger and frustration from their benefactors, who shifted restlessly at the sight of the battered and ancient Gundam. Compared to the sleek, well-cared-for Gears around it, even he had to admit that Wing looked a bit... shabby. Whistling tunelessly, he shoved his hands into his pockets as sharp ears picked up a distinct mutter from the rear.
"...you've gotta be kidding me... "
He grinned.
Wing's thrusters flared to life with a sudden roar, the superheated air rolling backward into the hangar in a blast as the Gundam leaped into the air. All activity ceased as soldiers and mechanics alike stopped to stare at the ancient, seemingly-clumsy Gear that now flung itself powerfully into the sky, gaining altitude at an incredible rate.
Wing began to transform, armor plates sliding against each other and locking into place as the Gundam realigned itself smoothly into bird-mode in a matter of seconds. With barely a pause in its ascent the last compartments locked into place, forming the familiar swept-back wings of the fighter jet. Transformation complete, Wing boosted into the upper atmosphere; then overtook the silvery speck of Xenogears in a heartbeat and rapidly faded into a speck on the horizon.
Duo grinned wider, catching the other pilots' attention as he put his fingers in his ears. He mouthed the numbers silently. Three, two, one...
*KA-BOOOOM!!*
The distant sonic boom shook the ground, rattling equipment and walls alike as it echoed off the cliffs around them. Duo turned back to a startled Citan after the sound had passed, leaving the desert base stunned its wake.
"*That's* how." He looked back up at the now-empty sky. "And don't worry about Heero. He's fully recovered. We all are. "
Dead silence reigned. Citan cleared his throat and asked shakily, "How can you be so sure?"
Duo gave him an oddly bitter smile. "Because, 'Doc'--this is what we were designed for." Crossing his arms, he looked around at the circle of stunned eyes. "So, where do I park Deathscythe in this flying ship of yours?"
"No way!" Bart stepped forward, glaring at the cheekily grinning Duo. "Forget it! We don't know these guys, and I don't trust them. If Fei is letting one of 'em tag along, that's his business--but there's no way I'm letting them on my ship!"
Duo's smile acquired a rather dangerous edge as he shifted his weight forward, ready to respond in kind. The other three remaining pilots moved unobtrusively to back him up, and Billy and Emeralda shifted to do the same for Bart. After a quick glance at Sigurd, who was coolly watching the confrontation with no signs of interfering, Citan sighed. He shook his head as he stepped into the imminent face-off and physically interposed himself between the two younger men.
"That's enough, both of you." Turning to the wary Gundam pilots, he tried to be conciliatory. "Please understand, it's nothing personal--but Bart does have a point. You haven't piloted in a very long time, and you have no idea what our standard battle tactics and formations are. Not to mention the fact that you can't even be sure that your Gears are in perfect functioning order. I'm honored that all of you wish to help, but--"
Quatre shook his head. "With all due respect, Dr. Uzuki, you're mistaken. We've checked over our Gundams, and unlocked the control systems. With the exception of some minor quirks in the peripheral systems, everything seems to be functional." He glanced at his fellow Gundam pilots. "And don't worry about us interfering with your troops. We tend to follow our own instincts on the battlefield instead of preset military strategies. If it makes you more comfortable, think of us as--independent support units, given latitude to maneuver at will." He smiled, then delivered his coup de grace. "Besides, you need us. You yourselves admitted that your forces are overextended. Correct?"
Citan slanted a look at Sigurd, who reluctantly nodded. "Unfortunately--yes."
"Then I really don't see how you can afford *not* to use our help. Load our Gundams into the Yggdrasil, and I estimate you can probably dispense with about a third of the Aveh forces being diverted towards the defense of Nisan. That's a rough guess, of course; I would have to see the enemy data to be sure." Quatre replied. His gaze flickered over the hangar preparations analytically as the other pilots watched the argument without comment. They knew better than to interrupt Quatre once he was in 'zero mode'.
"Now wait just a minute--!" Bart protested, only to have Sigurd interrupt.
"Forgive me, Bart, but--" he turned back to Quatre. "You're sure?"
"Yes." Quatre's reply left no room for doubt. His face was flinty with experience. "We are very good at what we do."
Sigurd turned back to his brother. "Bart, if what they say is true... we may have to take the chance. Nicklay's troop movements along the northern border... " his voice trailed off into a low murmur as he pulled the younger man off to one side. After several minutes of heated discussion, blonde-braided hair huddled with flowing silver, they turned back towards the waiting group.
"...heh, heh... blondie looks *pissed*... " Duo muttered gleefully, only to get elbowed in the ribs by Wufei. "Ow!"
"Hush!"
Bart was angry, but (contrary to popular belief) wasn't a fool. These strange pilots and their even stranger Gears were unknown quantities; however, they were also a resource he couldn't afford to waste. Crossing his arms defensively, he glared impartially at the entire group, Gundam pilots and old friends alike.
"Fine--you win. We'll load your Gears. Just stay out of the way--and if you threaten my men's lives on the field, I'll kick your asses all the way back to the ice caves myself!" He turned and, swinging up onto a nearby piece of scaffolding, began bellowing at the startled ground crew. "Whaddaya staring at? Get moving! I want this ship fully loaded with Gears in ten minutes, or I'm taking off without 'em!!"
"Such a gracious invitation," Trowa murmured as the soldiers began to scurry under the impetus of Bart's wrath.
Quatre smiled at Sigurd. "Thank you."
"Thank me if we survive the battle," Sigurd replied sardonically. He moved off, directing another group of officers to their positions. Left in the wake of Bart's anger, Citan, Billy, and Emeralda looked uncomfortably at the four remaining Gundam pilots.
Billy finally broke the silence with a tentative question. "Is there anything you need, before we go--clothes, weapons... ?"
"Oh, nothing much. Just gimme a hairbrush, some aspirin, and a beam cannon, and I'm ready to go," replied Duo cheerfully. He looked around, unabashed, at the ring of quizzical stares.
"What? Don't tell me you're out of aspirin... "
End Part Ten
(:./hope/dream10)
