Future of the Past
folder
Gundam Wing/AC › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
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Category:
Gundam Wing/AC › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
981
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Gundam Wing/AC, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Ambriel
Title: Future of the Past
Author: CeeDee (charlizedoe @ hotmail.com)
Archive: ?
Pairing: 1x2, 4+3, eventually
Rating: NC-17 (eventually)
Warnings: Angst, Language, Lemon, and Violence, sort of Sci-Fi
Spoilers: this takes place after EW
Feedback: yes, please, any comments welcome.
Disclaimer: Don't own them, used characters are borrowed, only. Promise to
give them back. For fun purposes, only; no profit made.
Notes: Several years after the wars, the pilots have grown apart. When they
meet again under unusual circumstances and an impending new war, will they be
able to fight again, together?
As before, many thanks for Ellimaru for most helpful, throughout and work
intensive betaing.
+++++
Future of the Past
# 3 Ambriel
[inspires clear communication so
that we might better speak our own truth, while
gently guiding human beings toward a time when truth and clarity will be the
universal norm. Ambriel is also considered to be an angel of general
protection.]
+++++
"Me?" I laughed hard. A
screen came to life and displayed a young male in his early twenties. The
laugh died in my throat. What was so fascinating, so frightening about this
picture was, the man was an albino. Pure white hair, pale skin and… red
eyes. He was very handsome. And - he seemed somehow familiar. I read the data
displayed beside the picture.
Name: Ambriel
Function: Warrior, Captain
Gender: male,
Born: February 1, A.C.235
Status: deceased May 5, A.C. 185
A second screen lit up and I
gasped as I saw the displayed female. Wavy chestnut colored long hair, cobalt
blue colored eyes, pouting lips… I froze. I knew this woman… from my
dreams.
Name: Hope
Function: Warrior, pilot
Gender: female
Born: November 21, A.C.236
Status: deceased March 26, A.C. 185
A third screen lit up and showed a
small child with short chestnut colored hair and cobalt blue eyes. A wave of
nausea hit me. I knew this kid, too. I've seen him often. Older now, but…
I've seen him. In a mirror.
Name: Nemamiah, offspring of
Ambriel and Hope,
Function: unknown
Gender: male
Born: April 20, A.C.180
Status: unknown
"Jesus Fucking Christ,"
I breathed. It took a while for me to process this information.
"You…," I licked my suddenly dry lips, "… could have made
this up. Somehow."
`You wear this ship's own organic
com unit, implanted below your left ear. It enables us to communicate. There
are genetic samples of all crewmembers stored in medical. Take yours and
analyze it, on your ship.'
"Ezgadi is not equipped for
this kind of analysis." I felt somewhat numb. Maybe it's shock from all
this.
`Feel free to analyze it in
medical.'
"You could fake the
results."
`View the logs.'
I shook my head. "You could
fake them as well."
A thought popped in my head.
"You have contacted me. Why?"
`My orders were: reactivate ten years
after deactivation. Locate and contact missing crew member Nemamiah. Enable
crew member Nemamiah to return by projecting technical schemes during resting
phase. Enable original mission. Prevent Invasion of Xetoins. Transfer command
chain. Self destruct on failure.'
It suddenly made sense. My dreams.
The obsession in creating… my ship. "How did you know it would work? I
mean…, no." Rubbing my face, I exhaled slowly. "You spied on me.
Right?"
`I observed your progress.'
Right. "I feel like my head's been
raped." I murmured. "This is rich. God damned fucking rich. What
now?"
`I need to evaluate your
abilities. You proved your technical and mechanical knowledge. You are able to
pilot a shuttle. We need to merge. You need knowledge about the enemy and my
past to prevent failure. I need knowledge about your abilities to estimate
possibility of continuing the mission.'
"Merge. What What does
`merge' mean?" I hope you won't crawl in my head. I've had enough as it
is. My meeting with ZERO was enough for a lifetime, thank you very much."
`ZERO. That was a dangerous and
primitive antiquated unit. Merging means we communicate on a higher level.
Communication only. This way, the information is transferred considerable
faster. You will feel like you're dreaming and the knowledge is assessable
instantly.'
"And I trust you why?" I
snorted. I got no answer; instead, the control panel in my left armrest slid
aside and revealed a small unit similar a small one-ear headset. I sighed and
picked it up, and after a short inspection attached it to my left ear.
"This better be good," I muttered, before my world went blank.
I blinked wildly, as I came to
again and looked around. Everything was perfectly clear. I knew the stations
and its functions. I knew that the technology used on this ship is partly
alien, plundered from captured enemies. I knew this ship, every inch of it. I
knew the AI told the truth, was incapable of lying.
I knew everything to know about
this endless war, yet to happen in my reality. I knew that these Xetoins were
a kind of telepathic parasite, projecting and in return feeding off of the
terrible fear of their prey, the human race. They had placed amplifiers all
over the Earth sphere to harvest human emotions. Like cattle, only big human
farms, the Earth and colonies. I know that there is no real resistance
possible, because no one can really fight when frozen in fear, terrified to
the point of insanity. Remaining living humankind has been mostly reduced to
insane, helpless prey, dying. I knew that a few brave humans resisted, despite
the horror. They defied, fought them.
I knew that in this ship's past,
the pilot of the Gundam Deathscythe lost his life in an early stage of
Operation Meteor, that only the pilots of Gundams Sandrock and Epyon escaped
death. I knew that Treize won this war. I knew that the remaining and existing
weapons of this past could not prevent the invasion of the Xetoins. They just
were not effective enough against them.
I knew that scientists had
developed dampeners for their suits as defense, but they suppressed emotions
completely, resulting in fighting without remorse, and mostly the warriors
ended up in kamikaze situations. I knew that, finally, in a dampened area on a
hidden satellite, scientists developed an effective weapon against the
Xetoins; but resources were exhausted, so there were no means to constructing
it. I knew that by accident, a time folding effect was discovered by these
researches; that, as a last resort, it was decided that they would send the
last battleship back in time to try to prevent the invasion.
I knew that this experiment
failed, as the time lap was further in the past than predicted, that this time
lap caused a severe malfunction in the ship's drive, where most of the
technicians died. I knew that the time lap caused a genetic change in the
surviving people, a fast-growing, untreatable cancer which had killed the crew
within five years. I knew that the scientists, while searching for a cure,
developed a serum which caused gentic enhancement, and I knew that if it had
been administered before the time lapse, it would have worked.
I knew that this enhancement would
have enabled the warriors to build up a mental block in defense against the
terrible emotional projections of the Xetoins, and to fight them successfully,
in addition with this new weapon. I knew that this enhancement has side
effects, as in very fast reproducing, renewing cells without exhaustion of the
genetic code, resulting in unbelievably fast healing, slowing of aging process
almost completely; immunity to illness. I knew the Xetoins would arrive in
short over four months.
I knew that a child was fathered
and born on this ship, and I knew that I am this child. I knew that this
child, the last healthy member of the crew, was sent to Earth in hope of
survival and return, to learn and spread knowledge, enabling humankind to
survive.
But I also knew that in my past,
the victory of the Gundams resulted in destroying most known weapons, as for
the pacifistic governments, including the Gundams. As it stands, now Earth is
worse off now than it was in the past of this ship.
+++++
I found myself in the captain's chair with my legs drawn up to my chest and
tears streaming down my face. Choking on my breath, panting. I ripped the
headset from my ear and hurled it across the room. I had found my parents. I
was born to parents not yet born themselves. A hysterical laugh bubbled up my
throat. I had hoped it was over. Instead, it hadn't yet begun. Fifty-some
years of war against aliens. "My God." My laugher turned to
hysterical sobs.
`Nemamiah. Your heart rate has
sped up to 120. You are shivering and perspiring. You are losing body fluids.
You need to calm down.'
"Duo," I whispered
sniffing, "my name is Duo."
`Duo Maxwell. Pilot 02 of Gundams
Deathscythe and Deathscythe Hell. Codename Shinigami. You have command.'
"Yeah. That's me." I
hiccupped and added sarcastically, "you forgot: grew up on his own as an
orphan on the streets of L2, a beggar and thief for six years." God. Life
had turned upside down in less than, what, three hours? I felt drained.
Totally exhausted. I pressed the heels of my palms against my eyes. This was
one fucking hell. I needed to sleep, but doubted I could. Four months to go.
"Why aren't these mobile
suits made from Gundanium?" I inquired.
`The formula of the alloy got lost
after Operation Meteor,' Bethor said.
"Oh." I nodded absently.
"But you could have replicated it… right, the remaining Gundam scrap
was sent to the sun." I recalled the information provided by the ship. I
needed a distraction.
"So, Bethor, What's your
damage in detail?" I asked while tugging on my braid.
`My drives are irreparably
damaged.'
I snorted. "Bullshit. Nothing
is irreparable if the parts are available." I cocked my head. "You
said I have command."
`Yes.'
"Oh. Okay. Thanks." I
scrubbed my hands over my face and took a deep breath. "Can you establish
a vid com to Earth? What is your energy level? Show me the damage on
screen."
`Vid com possible. Energy level is
one hundred percent by self-renewing energy crystals at my disposal. Data on
screen.'
I swore softly as I observed the
data. "I need help. No way I can fix this by myself. Bethor, you have
shuttles on board. How fast are they? Capacity? Ezgadi can only carry eight...
no, scratch that, six," I sheepishly thought of my `gym'.
`Calculated time from here to
Earth five days, four hours and twenty-six minutes at momentary planet
constellation. Capacity of each of my shuttles is thirty people.'
"Damn, Bethor. Why haven't
you brought your crew to Earth?"
`They attempted repair
unsuccessfully; one hundred two technicians were decreased. Discover of
incurable illness resulted in decision to stay.'
"Where are they?" I
asked absently as I calculated needed work force for the repairs.
`The bodies were shot into space.
The last twenty three are in stasis chambers.'
"Holy shit." I stopped
cold and took a deep breath. "They're still on board?"
`Yes.'
I groaned. "Great. I'm on a
drifting morgue. Names and dates on screen." I scanned the slowly
scrolling data and stared at the last name. "My… father was the… last
one?"
`The captain left as the last
one,' Bethor confirmed.
"How…" I swallowed
hard and my fingers clenched the console so hard my knuckles went white.
"How did… he get in the stasis?"
`By himself. He instructed the
life support to cease while in stasis.'
"God." I sank slowly to
my knees and leaned my head against the cool console. "Where?" I
croaked out. But I knew before Bethor answered where the stasis chamber room
was.
`Section eight, opposite medical.
Do you wish to go there?'
"NO! … no." I shook my
head against the console fiercely; my braid swished back and forth against my
back. "No. Not… yet. Later. I'll… go later." There was so much pain
in me. Sorrow. Somehow, it felt like the day I had thought Heero had died in
his self-destruction stunt.
The AI, Bethor, was silent.
I let my head fall backwards and
stared up at the ceiling of the bridge. Grief had built up in the pit of my
stomach and I thought I would choke on it if it didn't get out. I screamed.
All the pain and sorrow and grief came out in that one, animalistic howl. War
again. Fight again. Discover your past, your parents. I wished desperately for
someone to hold me. Shield me. Solo. Sister Helen. Howard. Quatre. Heero.
Someone.
+++++
I came awake in my cabin on
Ezgadi. I had slept deep and dreamless, despite the devastating news, and now
pondered all the unbelievable knowledge I had accessed. I had tucked my tail
between my legs and fled to my ship. Somehow, here I didn't feel as though I'd
been left alone on a drifting morgue. Technically that was crap, as Ezgadi was
still in the hangar, but… you know. I had sat in one of the mobile suits.
They loosely resembled Leos, impressively improved, but they were a far call
from my Gundam. I needed help. I needed my technicians. I needed Howard. I
needed pilots. I needed the Gundam pilots. That brought Heero to my mind
again. Heero was dying, Quatre said. Bethor said he had a cure.
Somehow, I was horrified by how
fast I could shake it, get over this crap. How fast I fell back to my wartime
mindset. Buried the bad things, which couldn't be changed anyway, and looked
forward. I needed Quatre. As strategist he was the best. He had built Wing
Zero. Maybe, with the help of the other pilots and Howard and the crew, we
could rebuild and improve all of the Gundams with this technology. Yes. First,
we needed people here. The rest would sort out itself. We would do our best,
as before, and maybe we could prevent this invasion. We had to inform the
government. Relena. I groaned.
We need to train. I could program
holographic simulations, they were much better than the usual simulations
available to day. I blinked. I knew there were four holo decks on board, and I
knew how to program them. I began to feel giddy. I rolled out of my bunk and
stomped in the gallery, where I wolfed down a ration bar. No nerve for a fancy
breakfast. I dressed for the first time since I started to my deep space
adventure in jeans and a t-shirt, and wandered out of my ship in the hangar.
"Good morning, Bethor,"
I called out while I stretched.
`Good morning, Duo,' came the
prompt answer.
I was glad it didn't address me
with that awful name it used yesterday. While I walked to the bridge, I
switched my com unit off, just because I could, and grinning, held up a mental
middlefinger to the AI. "You have to switch to speaker, no more prodding
around in my head."
"I noticed," came the
reply.
I settled down in the captain's
chair and looked around. Soon, I hoped, this place would be filled with people
again. "Bethor, establish vid com with Winner Enterprises, same frequency
as yesterday."
I waited, while pondering how to
tell Quatre. Oh, hell, the truth was never wrong.
"Winner Enterprises,
Operator. How can I help?"
"Duo Maxwell for Quatre
Winner please." I smiled sweetly.
"I'm sorry, you have called
outside office hours, sir." He looked aside, probably at a clock,
"Mr. Winner is not in before nine in the morning, in five hours. Please
try later."
I switched my smile to a glare.
"This is an emergency. I need a connection, now. Tell Mr. Winner this is
a code alpha zero zero nine zero two. Immediately." That was our old war
time `holy shit' code. I hoped he remembered.
"Yes, sir," he replied
hastily and looked spooked, "one moment, sir."
It was interesting how people
assumed you were important if you began to talk codes. The screen switched to
the Winner logo and I leaned back and waited. Not long.
"Duo?" Quatre squeaked
as the connection was there again. "You okay?"
"Hi, Quat," I grinned at
him. "Recording this?"
"Of course. What is…,"
he stopped and looked hard at me, his expression switched to pissed.
"This is no emergency, is it? Do you know what time it is? I'm…,"
he stopped again. "We have vid. You said…, how…," he looked
closer. "Where…," he took a breath. "Explain." He leaned
back, clad in only a robe as far as I could see, hair sleep tousled and a stern expression on his face.
I couldn't help but laugh.
"Sorry, Quat, but you look priceless." I chuckled some more.
"Okay, this is no immediate emergency, you are right. But it is an alpha
zero zero nine from me nonetheless."
He narrowed his eyes.
"Explain," he repeated.
"First," I took a deep
breath, "despite what it sounds like, I'm not insane. Trust me. Listen
carefully. We have a situation." I leaned forward and stared at the vid
cam. I knew it seemed as if I stared directly at him. "Remember Meteor?
This is ten times worse. Bring your things in order. Hand over your company to
your next in command. Gather the others. All three of them. Heero too. Catch a
doctor and a few nurses." As an afterthought I added, "I also need a
gene test device. Gather Maganacs, the best pilots there are, people who are
willing to fight, to lose their lives even. Up to sixty persons, max. Tell them all. I need
you here. You have five days and six hours until take off."
He looked shocked. "Duo, you
can't expect me to belie…, I think we should talk abou…"
I didn't let him finish and shook my head, impatiently. "No.
We will talk when you all are here. You will understand."
His eyes narrowed and he slowly
shook his head and smiled sweetly. "How, …uhm, you bring your ship back
and we, uhm, …talk here?"
Okay. I was prepared for this. He
thought I had snapped, "Quatre. Do you think the cockpit of my little
shuttle looks like this?" I leaned back and made a wide gesture with my
arm. At the same time, I switched my com unit on and gave Bethor the mental
command to show him a 360° view of the bridge. "This, Quat, is just the
bridge. Command center. Of a ship. Parked on the backside of Jupiter. "
He gasped. "God, Duo…, you
haven't built…"
"Oh, Quatre," I sighed,
"please. Think. When and where would I have had the opportunity? This is
Bethor. Look it up. B-E-T-H-O-R. The name is fitting. I found it yesterday.
And it's the Last Chance for humankind." I reconsidered. "First
Chance, or… Only Chance. ... Whatever." I had to convince him.
"Duo," he sounded overly
soothing. "Perhaps you… exaggerate a bit? Come back, and then
we…"
I interrupted again. "Do you
believe in alien life forms, Quat?"
"In… what?"
"Bethor, show a Xetoin."
I said aloud. I thought hard. "Quat, listen. This ship, Bethor here, has
battled against these. Its data, which I, in my insatiable curiosity,
accessed, proves they are on their way to Earth, within four months. An alien invasion. And no, don't pull a Relena on me and say we should try to talk to
them, first. For them, humans are no more than cattle. It's a fact. I've seen
the proof. We have to make precautions. Earth and the Colonies have next to no
defenses, have they? We saw to that."
He looked unsure.
"But…," he trailed off, obviously thinking.
I sighed again. "Quat.
Please. What known technology ensures a trip from Jupiter to Earth in five and
a half days? Even my new prototype needed twenty. Runs great, by the way. You
should consider buying one. And if you find I'm gone crazy, you can haul my
sorry ass back and look at this as a crazy vacation of sorts. Come, and bring the
others."
"O~kay," he said slowly.
"But… Heero." He bit his lip.
"Bring him. Heero will be
fine." I mustered as much confidence as I could, "And Quatre? Dig up
the plans of our Gundams. We may need them. Bring as much info as possible.
And don't you get caught. If someone thinks the wrong thing, you could get in
trouble." I winked. "Make copies of this recording for the government and one for Une. But don't send them before you are gone. I don't
need psychiatrists here; I need warriors…" I shook my head slightly at
the use of the word, "uh, pilots to save the Earth and Colonies. I will
send you rendezvous data on our old channel. See you."
I thought `cut link' and the vid
was dark. Leaning back in the seat, I blew the bangs out of my face and
sighed. The next hour I worked hard, plotting out the best way for a
rendezvous with two unknown shuttles at L4, unsuspected by the authorities. I
was good at that. Stealth was one of my specialties. I sent the data to
Quatre. "Start two shuttles, Bethor. Destination L4 as instructed. And
while you are at it, start two more. To these coordinates." I typed
further data in my console, the coordinates of the satellite and then the frequency
at home. "Establish a vid com to the Earth com satellite, this
connection."
I talked to Howard and in essence
told him as much as I had told Quatre, only this conversation had somewhat
less the threat of a straight jacket. We decided to leave the company in the
tried and true hands of Karl, as Howie, to my great relief, insisted on
coming, too. We decided also to slow down the marketing of the ship, postpone
the delivery time to uncertain and announce a production time of at least one
year, so people wouldn't look too hard for it. We always had the option to
make a trip to Earth for a while, as the speed of Bethor's shuttles out
classed everything else. We decided he would bring the best of the techs and a
few sweepers to repair Bethor's drives. I was confident we could bring it up
to speed again.
Look out, Xetoins; Shinigami is
coming.
+++++
tbc