'Do You See What I See' for the Community
Title: Do You See What I See
Recipient: Community
Rating: R for adult situations
Warnings: eschewed sex, vague het, less vague yaoi, hard core TWT
Summary: Zechs receives something to think about from Treize.
Author's Notes: Prompt was primarily for 6x13 or 6x1 and those seemed to be the biggest challenge. Except as I was writing, it turns out anything with Zechs seems to be a challenge XDDD betaed by hikarinotsubasa.
Author: corpus_yaoi
It had been increasingly hard for my bedmate and I to find the time for our illicit activities. When we managed to be in the same time at the same place, we tended to maximize those rare instances. So when I woke up and found the bed empty, I thought it was somewhat unusual. I stretched and propped myself up on an elbow to take stock of the room. Clothing lay strewn about. Guilt barely crossed my mind as I thought of the expense of replacing the uniform I had ruined in my haste to have him naked before me. It didn’t matter; it had been worth it. I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself thinking he was worth it. He is. But that, in no way, absolves me of the crime of having torn the epaulettes from another jacket or having ripped the seams of another pair of trousers.
I threw back the covers, dislodging as many toys as I uncovered, and stood up with a grin. Decadent was the only word I could think of to describe all that transpired last night. It was likely to be a long time before my lover gave me carte blanche in the bedroom again.
I made my way through the rooms, stopping at the doorway of each but never finding him. The master bath, the sitting room, the front room, the office-with the exception of the first, they were in as pristine condition as always. By the time I made it to the kitchen, the aroma of fine, hot coffee filled my nose. Thoughts of breakfast filled my head. I entered the room and had to give silent thanks to the staff. Not only had they prepared a pot of coffee, just-baked pastries, and fresh cut fruit which all sat upon the kitchen island with two place settings, but they had remained bot silent and invisible while taking care of these chores. My stomach growled in hunger and without a second thought to my current state of undress, I took a seat to break my fast.
***
“Milliardo.”
He turned upon the stool when I called his name and painted a stunning scene. His shining sheaf of hair shimmered down his back, hiding as much as it revealed. One lean leg stretched out to support him, half turned as he was, on the stool. An arm with finely shaped musculature lazily held a delicate cup of coffee. But more than the expanse of bared flesh, it was the lack of his typical headgear that had my heart racing. How unusual it was for him to forego that particular accessory when not bathing or engaging in intercourse. Although I can recall more than a few times the helmet remained in place even during the latter. However, it was not without difficultly that I was able to join him at the kitchen island without giving away the erotic tangent my thoughts had taken. But who is Treize Khushrenada if not a man of imperturbable disposition?
Until I laughed.
“How do you feel, sir?”
“How do I feel?” I mused, thinking that very thing over for the first time as I prepared my own cup of coffee. “Like a man who’s been thoroughly ravished,” I said with a private smile. “I have a gift for you, Milliardo. You needn’t accept it if it is not to your tastes, but I would insist you at least try it before making a decision.”
“You insist, do you?” He challenged, capitalizing on my weakness to capitulate to those ice blue eyes.
“I am prepared to pull rank on this point if need be, Zechs.”
“I suppose I can indulge your whim; you were rather magnificent last night.” So saying, he brushed the backs of his fingers along my cheek in an uncharacteristically gentle gesture. While it was not exactly a turn off, I was not terribly interested in the softer side of this man-if indeed he truly had one. Then, however, he pressed the tips a bit too firmly against the bruised flesh, reminding me to apply concealer before leaving the suite.
We finished the rest of our morning meal in silence before bathing and dressing. The bathing took far longer than anticipated as my sometimes-lover deigned to take mercy upon me and my excited state. Once we were both ready for public consumption and left the sanctuary of my suite of rooms, however, it was all business. We both knew our roles and it was effortless to play them: Treize the charismatic leader, and Zechs the determined soldier.
***
He led me through the expanse of the mansion to the library. Treize often spent time here when planning tactical strategies or writing speeches. I had spent not an insignificant amount of time here also, though not necessarily on exclusively professional pursuits. It therefore came as something of a surprise when Treize removed a small device from the top drawer of his massive desk, pushed the lone button on it, and revealed an enormous hangar. More surprising still was the sleek mobile suit painted a gleaming wine red color contained therein.
“You’ve been keeping secrets from me,” I stated.
“It is no longer a secret. This is the Epyon. I designed it for you.”
“Sir?”
“It has been loaded with a special system, alas not of my design, that I believe you will find extremely beneficial. I urge you to use it.”
“What about that system makes it special?”
No answer seemed forthcoming. Knowing Treize, silence was not unusual. Conversely, it could often be a very powerful communication tool. I then heard the gentle rattle of a hand upon the door handle. Turning around, I caught Treize in the act of leaving. He paused in the doorway and spoke without facing me, but rather craning his neck only far enough for me to see him in quarter profile and the very corner of his eye.
>
“Under the correct circumstances, Milliardo, it can show the pilot his future.”
With that, he departed. I watched the door being closed, heard the snick of the latch catching and the retreating taps of his dress boots upon the mahogany floors in the hall.
Epyon was an impressive suit. The lines were smoother than other Gundams, sleeker and more powerful looking. The Bordeaux color paint was an uncharacteristic choice for Treize. Personally, I thought the color’s association with passion, and this particular shade with wine, matched Treize the man fantastically. Treize the soldier, however, favored cooler colors and, above all else, white.
Nothing Treize did was meaningless, but more than the color of the suit or its weaponry and specs, Treize had piqued my interest about the Epyon’s battle system.
Walking up to the elegantly shaped foot, I took hold of the winch line and ascended to the cockpit.
***
I was a man with both military training and an aristocratic pedigree. The latter learned to identify possible threats to his person just as much as the former as neither role can serve any function if the person designated to fulfill it is dead. Ergo, despite the fine Bavarian carpeting doing much to mute his steps, I was still able to hear Zechs approach. On a hard surface, a mere footfall can enlighten the trained ear as to the mood of the walker. The aforementioned carpeting, however, made it impossible to glean any such information about Zechs’ state of mind. I had to wait until the page announced-unnecessarily-the arrival of Zechs.
I will admit that he looked worse for the wear. That was incongruous to what I considered a top level OZ pilot; but then again, perhaps I should have tested against the very best…Noin, however, surely would have refused.
No words seemed forthcoming from my subordinate and so I turned my attention back to the busy work that had occupied my day. Just as I was falling back into the mindless rhythm of flipping pages at just the proper speed to clear the signed document and reveal the next copy beneath, Zechs cleared his throat. Immediately, I tidied the instruments used for jockeying a desk and gave him my full regard.
“What is that thing, Sir?”
“A very powerful tool. Test runs have shown it takes a very particular mind to command the system, however.”
“Particular how?”
“It requires the pilot to be pure of heart.”
“In that case, I fear I may have broken it.”
“Nonsense!” I tut. He is silent for a moment; his lips are drawn in a tight line. During the pause, I almost start to expect him to utter some tripe such as It may have broken me, but he refrains. After a lengthy pause, he posits a question instead.
“Why have me test it?”
“Who else but the man sitting at the top of the roster would test it?”
“You know that’s not what I mean.”
“I chose you because I value your opinion as a soldier.”
Zechs made a disgusted sort of sound.
“You accepted the task. As your commanding officer, I now ask that you make a report. Tell me, Zechs, what did you see?”
“I saw battle,” he said tightly.
“Yes, it is a war machine after all. Whom did you fight?”
“Noin. And you.”
His speech patterns were off. It was plain as the ridiculous mask on his face that he was being sparing with the details.
“You needn’t edit your report. You know as well as I do how these advanced systems keep a record of all data transfers. You fought Noin and me. What happened?”
Zechs stood perfectly still for a moment; in that moment, there was nothing I wouldn’t have given to have been able to see his eyes for some indication of what was going on in that unfathomable head of his.
“The first two were just battles. Fighting.” He stopped speaking and tipped his face down a few degrees. He was hiding something.
“Yes, yes. Just fighting. It does not take a system as advanced as ZERO to see the issue there,” I said. Personally, I was of the opinion all it took was half a brain to see Zechs’ indecision over choosing a lover. For a glorious moment, I was tired-sick and tired, really-of this odd split within my friend and lover. It had been bad enough to have to always be on the guard for Noin. Now, it was clear that something else was drawing his fancy. What I wanted to know, what I wanted to hear from his own lips, was who-or what-it was.
But, “You can’t always get what you want.”
“Sir?” Zechs sounded uncharacteristically puzzled.
“Zechs, take the suit and go.”
“Primary destination?”
“ZERO can guide you.”
“What if it can’t?”
“It can.”
“Treize-”
“Zechs! Take it and go. That’s an order.”
“Do you even have the authority to order me anymore?”
“Oh, you’re going to play that card now, Milliardo? As long as you are an officer of OZ, you are formally under my jurisdiction and will do as you are commanded.”
“Then you answer me this, Commander. Why are you doing this? The suit? The orders?”
“It’s simple: I am done with halves.”
“Done with halves?”
“Or thirds, as the case may be. I, Zechs, know what I want. I want you, but you could never give me that, could you?”
“Like hell I couldn’t give it to you!”
“Yes, I believe you did. It was my greatest friend, it was Milliardo I never captured. There was always a part of you that longed for something else, someone else.”
“That’s a decidedly biased perspective, coming from the man who seems to surround himself with halves.”
“Une? There is nothing remotely similar between how you define your roles and how she defines hers. The two sides of my dear Lady are entirely for my benefit, though I honestly wish she would not force herself to such extremes. The two sides of you, Zechs, are entirely for your own convenience. And even when I had the attention of one of those sides, it has only been for the purpose of advancing some point on your agenda.
“I am surprised Noin puts up with it. I, at least, get fantastic sex out of the deal.”
I was far too much of a gentleman to turn my cheek after a comment such as that. Zechs was far too little of a gentleman to not raise his fist.
I reeled backwards, biting my tongue viciously as my head snapped back. I tasted blood and by the time the water had cleared my eyes, I was watching the retreating figure of Zechs Merquise stalking out of my study. With a sniff, I resumed my seat and previous occupation signing various documents for the Foundation. Come what may, it was time to wash my hands of a man incapable of seeing beyond his own petty revenge.
*
Night came. Except for the faint glow of various status lights and control panels, it was completely dark. The vast empty space where Epyon once stood acted like a black hole, sucking in all the ambient light. It was no surprise the suit was gone. The suit was designed for great things and with a great pilot in the cockpit, any myriad of things were possible. And that was exactly what I’d ventured into the hangar in the dead of night to check: the outcome of the epic battle between Earth and Space looming ever closer on the political, military, and socio-economic horizon.
The suit was gone, but it had been fully powered up; and to keep it powered up, it had been connected to the mainframe in the hangar. Which, in turn, meant that all the data was automatically backed up here as well. Taking a seat at the first terminal, I started the system and accessed the backlogs.
EPYON ZERO SYSTEM v1.0
I clapped a system helmet on my head and let the logs flood my mind.
***
Darkness prevailed and yet it shimmered like satin being drawn through water. No, it was not darkness; it was an utter disconnect to the outside world that began the moment I had slipped the unusual helmet over my head. None of my five senses commuted any information from my physical surroundings in the cockpit. That, however, was of absolutely no consequence. All I needed was this fantastic, foreign sixth sense that shot like an arrow straight from the mobile suit into my brain.
I saw battle.
I felt battle.
I lived battle.
Lunge now.
Parry to the left.
Swing, bottom to top.
Thrust!
I heard these directions, but I couldn’t tell if they were suggestions from the system, my own thoughts, or those of my opponent. Nevertheless, I found myself following them.
Thrust! Thrust! Thrust!
There was a touch of madness in the tone and I found myself pushed flush up against my opponent. From shoulder to knee, there was not so much as a hair’s breadth between us. I could hear ragged panting in my ear; sweat dripped down my face. I could feel puffs of hot breath on my cheek; the tang of fresh sweat filled my nostrils. I knew that scent, it was a wonderful as it was dreadful for in smelling it, I knew I could not win this battle.
Sweaty bangs brushed along my cheek and the soldier I had been fighting pushed forward. Not only was there no space between our straining bodies, but there was no barrier. No mobile suit, no armor, not even clothing. And the body shoving against me was soft despite the obviously powerful muscles.
“Noin?”
The name barely escaped my lips before the form pushing against me faded into nothingness.
My newly acquired sixth sense seemed entirely unconcerned. The air merely shimmered, and the battle began again.
I was thrown back by the impossibly strong arms of an unknown mobile suit. All it took was a single swing of the sabre to know my opponent had morphed. In addition to impressive skill at wielding a beam sabre, my opponent now moved with undeniable grace. Not even the immense power behind each movement could mar its inherent elegance. With our unseen weapons clashing and sliding, we fairly waltzed through the ether.
One step back.
Sweep and block.
Half-turn and bow.
Two steps forward.
Turn and swing.
When he lunged, I dodged. If I struck a low blow, he leapt easily out of the way. When he immobilized my arms, I locked down on his legs. I knew without thinking our match could continue indefinitely. We knew each other far too well to succumb to even our most desperate attacks. This battle was not a matter of who was a better pilot, a better fighter, a better man. It was, unquestionably, a meaningless battle that would continue indefinitely as neither of us would ever be able to learn from one or teach the other.
“Treize.”
I found myself inexplicably pressed tightly against this man. On the back of my tongue, I tasted roses. The shell of my ear caught a quiet hum of confirmation. This time, however, I was not thrown back but it was Treize who flew back a short distance. I had barely detected the glint of silver before the man slit his own throat and dropped into the ether like a marionette with its strings cut.
Surprisingly, my sixth sense was giving me nothing but indifference. As before, the air shimmered and a new battle began.
Except this time, there was a definite tang of excitement in the air. Before me hung suspended in silent beauty a mobile suit that radiated but a fraction of the strength of the silent pilot contained therein.
When our battle began, it so far exceeded the sweaty exhilaration of anything I had experienced that I knew I was addicted before I finished my opening move. Here was a soldier’s soldier; someone who understood both the art and beauty of war as much as he understood its pointless nature. I found myself grinning, panting from the tantalizing mix of sheer physical exertion and overwhelming mental stimulus. It was pleasure unlike any I had previously known.
My opponent and I shared several passes. Unlike the previous battles, my newest sense seemed blatantly quiet. It made our battle feel more organic, more human…in a very literal sense. Our weapons were the first to drop away. Reaching to grapple with him, the Gundanium gauntlets fell away at the last moment to leave my bare arm reaching out. The focus of our battle narrowed as my hand connected with his now bare shoulder. The massive foot of his mobile suit whistled through the air but as I kicked my leg out between his own, I discovered I was merely knocking away the wiry muscled limb of a youth.
Giving a huge roar of excitement, I lunged forward in the strange anti-space. When I collided with him, it was like two stars colliding. For the first time since donning the helmet, there was something beyond the sixth sense of the suit. There was consuming light and with it, heat. And at the center of it all was a pair of cobalt blue eyes staring like burning straight at me.
***
I tore the helmet off my head; my chest was heaving from the informational onslaught received from ZERO. Everything he had experienced in the cockpit, I had just felt for myself. If it meant anything, it was that he was enthralled with a young soldier, with the youth who was destined to defeat him. But instead of taking the noble path of using his defeat to change the course of history, Zechs would allow himself to be seduced by the man who would defeat him.
“Fool,” I said aloud. For only a fool allows greatness to slip through his fingers for the sake of winning.
I was done with inflexible men dealing untenable dreams based on ludicrous notions. The suit was gone; Zechs was gone; but there was still hope. I was destined to die, but I would make sure it was for the right reasons. I ejected the disk containing the data from Zechs’ test run, tossed the cheap plastic device to the floor and ground it under my heel. Then, intent upon designs to change the permeable course of history in the making, I left the hangar.
***End
Recipient: Community
Rating: R for adult situations
Warnings: eschewed sex, vague het, less vague yaoi, hard core TWT
Summary: Zechs receives something to think about from Treize.
Author's Notes: Prompt was primarily for 6x13 or 6x1 and those seemed to be the biggest challenge. Except as I was writing, it turns out anything with Zechs seems to be a challenge XDDD betaed by hikarinotsubasa.
Author: corpus_yaoi
It had been increasingly hard for my bedmate and I to find the time for our illicit activities. When we managed to be in the same time at the same place, we tended to maximize those rare instances. So when I woke up and found the bed empty, I thought it was somewhat unusual. I stretched and propped myself up on an elbow to take stock of the room. Clothing lay strewn about. Guilt barely crossed my mind as I thought of the expense of replacing the uniform I had ruined in my haste to have him naked before me. It didn’t matter; it had been worth it. I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself thinking he was worth it. He is. But that, in no way, absolves me of the crime of having torn the epaulettes from another jacket or having ripped the seams of another pair of trousers.
I threw back the covers, dislodging as many toys as I uncovered, and stood up with a grin. Decadent was the only word I could think of to describe all that transpired last night. It was likely to be a long time before my lover gave me carte blanche in the bedroom again.
I made my way through the rooms, stopping at the doorway of each but never finding him. The master bath, the sitting room, the front room, the office-with the exception of the first, they were in as pristine condition as always. By the time I made it to the kitchen, the aroma of fine, hot coffee filled my nose. Thoughts of breakfast filled my head. I entered the room and had to give silent thanks to the staff. Not only had they prepared a pot of coffee, just-baked pastries, and fresh cut fruit which all sat upon the kitchen island with two place settings, but they had remained bot silent and invisible while taking care of these chores. My stomach growled in hunger and without a second thought to my current state of undress, I took a seat to break my fast.
***
“Milliardo.”
He turned upon the stool when I called his name and painted a stunning scene. His shining sheaf of hair shimmered down his back, hiding as much as it revealed. One lean leg stretched out to support him, half turned as he was, on the stool. An arm with finely shaped musculature lazily held a delicate cup of coffee. But more than the expanse of bared flesh, it was the lack of his typical headgear that had my heart racing. How unusual it was for him to forego that particular accessory when not bathing or engaging in intercourse. Although I can recall more than a few times the helmet remained in place even during the latter. However, it was not without difficultly that I was able to join him at the kitchen island without giving away the erotic tangent my thoughts had taken. But who is Treize Khushrenada if not a man of imperturbable disposition?
Until I laughed.
“How do you feel, sir?”
“How do I feel?” I mused, thinking that very thing over for the first time as I prepared my own cup of coffee. “Like a man who’s been thoroughly ravished,” I said with a private smile. “I have a gift for you, Milliardo. You needn’t accept it if it is not to your tastes, but I would insist you at least try it before making a decision.”
“You insist, do you?” He challenged, capitalizing on my weakness to capitulate to those ice blue eyes.
“I am prepared to pull rank on this point if need be, Zechs.”
“I suppose I can indulge your whim; you were rather magnificent last night.” So saying, he brushed the backs of his fingers along my cheek in an uncharacteristically gentle gesture. While it was not exactly a turn off, I was not terribly interested in the softer side of this man-if indeed he truly had one. Then, however, he pressed the tips a bit too firmly against the bruised flesh, reminding me to apply concealer before leaving the suite.
We finished the rest of our morning meal in silence before bathing and dressing. The bathing took far longer than anticipated as my sometimes-lover deigned to take mercy upon me and my excited state. Once we were both ready for public consumption and left the sanctuary of my suite of rooms, however, it was all business. We both knew our roles and it was effortless to play them: Treize the charismatic leader, and Zechs the determined soldier.
***
He led me through the expanse of the mansion to the library. Treize often spent time here when planning tactical strategies or writing speeches. I had spent not an insignificant amount of time here also, though not necessarily on exclusively professional pursuits. It therefore came as something of a surprise when Treize removed a small device from the top drawer of his massive desk, pushed the lone button on it, and revealed an enormous hangar. More surprising still was the sleek mobile suit painted a gleaming wine red color contained therein.
“You’ve been keeping secrets from me,” I stated.
“It is no longer a secret. This is the Epyon. I designed it for you.”
“Sir?”
“It has been loaded with a special system, alas not of my design, that I believe you will find extremely beneficial. I urge you to use it.”
“What about that system makes it special?”
No answer seemed forthcoming. Knowing Treize, silence was not unusual. Conversely, it could often be a very powerful communication tool. I then heard the gentle rattle of a hand upon the door handle. Turning around, I caught Treize in the act of leaving. He paused in the doorway and spoke without facing me, but rather craning his neck only far enough for me to see him in quarter profile and the very corner of his eye.
>
“Under the correct circumstances, Milliardo, it can show the pilot his future.”
With that, he departed. I watched the door being closed, heard the snick of the latch catching and the retreating taps of his dress boots upon the mahogany floors in the hall.
Epyon was an impressive suit. The lines were smoother than other Gundams, sleeker and more powerful looking. The Bordeaux color paint was an uncharacteristic choice for Treize. Personally, I thought the color’s association with passion, and this particular shade with wine, matched Treize the man fantastically. Treize the soldier, however, favored cooler colors and, above all else, white.
Nothing Treize did was meaningless, but more than the color of the suit or its weaponry and specs, Treize had piqued my interest about the Epyon’s battle system.
Walking up to the elegantly shaped foot, I took hold of the winch line and ascended to the cockpit.
***
I was a man with both military training and an aristocratic pedigree. The latter learned to identify possible threats to his person just as much as the former as neither role can serve any function if the person designated to fulfill it is dead. Ergo, despite the fine Bavarian carpeting doing much to mute his steps, I was still able to hear Zechs approach. On a hard surface, a mere footfall can enlighten the trained ear as to the mood of the walker. The aforementioned carpeting, however, made it impossible to glean any such information about Zechs’ state of mind. I had to wait until the page announced-unnecessarily-the arrival of Zechs.
I will admit that he looked worse for the wear. That was incongruous to what I considered a top level OZ pilot; but then again, perhaps I should have tested against the very best…Noin, however, surely would have refused.
No words seemed forthcoming from my subordinate and so I turned my attention back to the busy work that had occupied my day. Just as I was falling back into the mindless rhythm of flipping pages at just the proper speed to clear the signed document and reveal the next copy beneath, Zechs cleared his throat. Immediately, I tidied the instruments used for jockeying a desk and gave him my full regard.
“What is that thing, Sir?”
“A very powerful tool. Test runs have shown it takes a very particular mind to command the system, however.”
“Particular how?”
“It requires the pilot to be pure of heart.”
“In that case, I fear I may have broken it.”
“Nonsense!” I tut. He is silent for a moment; his lips are drawn in a tight line. During the pause, I almost start to expect him to utter some tripe such as It may have broken me, but he refrains. After a lengthy pause, he posits a question instead.
“Why have me test it?”
“Who else but the man sitting at the top of the roster would test it?”
“You know that’s not what I mean.”
“I chose you because I value your opinion as a soldier.”
Zechs made a disgusted sort of sound.
“You accepted the task. As your commanding officer, I now ask that you make a report. Tell me, Zechs, what did you see?”
“I saw battle,” he said tightly.
“Yes, it is a war machine after all. Whom did you fight?”
“Noin. And you.”
His speech patterns were off. It was plain as the ridiculous mask on his face that he was being sparing with the details.
“You needn’t edit your report. You know as well as I do how these advanced systems keep a record of all data transfers. You fought Noin and me. What happened?”
Zechs stood perfectly still for a moment; in that moment, there was nothing I wouldn’t have given to have been able to see his eyes for some indication of what was going on in that unfathomable head of his.
“The first two were just battles. Fighting.” He stopped speaking and tipped his face down a few degrees. He was hiding something.
“Yes, yes. Just fighting. It does not take a system as advanced as ZERO to see the issue there,” I said. Personally, I was of the opinion all it took was half a brain to see Zechs’ indecision over choosing a lover. For a glorious moment, I was tired-sick and tired, really-of this odd split within my friend and lover. It had been bad enough to have to always be on the guard for Noin. Now, it was clear that something else was drawing his fancy. What I wanted to know, what I wanted to hear from his own lips, was who-or what-it was.
But, “You can’t always get what you want.”
“Sir?” Zechs sounded uncharacteristically puzzled.
“Zechs, take the suit and go.”
“Primary destination?”
“ZERO can guide you.”
“What if it can’t?”
“It can.”
“Treize-”
“Zechs! Take it and go. That’s an order.”
“Do you even have the authority to order me anymore?”
“Oh, you’re going to play that card now, Milliardo? As long as you are an officer of OZ, you are formally under my jurisdiction and will do as you are commanded.”
“Then you answer me this, Commander. Why are you doing this? The suit? The orders?”
“It’s simple: I am done with halves.”
“Done with halves?”
“Or thirds, as the case may be. I, Zechs, know what I want. I want you, but you could never give me that, could you?”
“Like hell I couldn’t give it to you!”
“Yes, I believe you did. It was my greatest friend, it was Milliardo I never captured. There was always a part of you that longed for something else, someone else.”
“That’s a decidedly biased perspective, coming from the man who seems to surround himself with halves.”
“Une? There is nothing remotely similar between how you define your roles and how she defines hers. The two sides of my dear Lady are entirely for my benefit, though I honestly wish she would not force herself to such extremes. The two sides of you, Zechs, are entirely for your own convenience. And even when I had the attention of one of those sides, it has only been for the purpose of advancing some point on your agenda.
“I am surprised Noin puts up with it. I, at least, get fantastic sex out of the deal.”
I was far too much of a gentleman to turn my cheek after a comment such as that. Zechs was far too little of a gentleman to not raise his fist.
I reeled backwards, biting my tongue viciously as my head snapped back. I tasted blood and by the time the water had cleared my eyes, I was watching the retreating figure of Zechs Merquise stalking out of my study. With a sniff, I resumed my seat and previous occupation signing various documents for the Foundation. Come what may, it was time to wash my hands of a man incapable of seeing beyond his own petty revenge.
*
Night came. Except for the faint glow of various status lights and control panels, it was completely dark. The vast empty space where Epyon once stood acted like a black hole, sucking in all the ambient light. It was no surprise the suit was gone. The suit was designed for great things and with a great pilot in the cockpit, any myriad of things were possible. And that was exactly what I’d ventured into the hangar in the dead of night to check: the outcome of the epic battle between Earth and Space looming ever closer on the political, military, and socio-economic horizon.
The suit was gone, but it had been fully powered up; and to keep it powered up, it had been connected to the mainframe in the hangar. Which, in turn, meant that all the data was automatically backed up here as well. Taking a seat at the first terminal, I started the system and accessed the backlogs.
EPYON ZERO SYSTEM v1.0
I clapped a system helmet on my head and let the logs flood my mind.
***
Darkness prevailed and yet it shimmered like satin being drawn through water. No, it was not darkness; it was an utter disconnect to the outside world that began the moment I had slipped the unusual helmet over my head. None of my five senses commuted any information from my physical surroundings in the cockpit. That, however, was of absolutely no consequence. All I needed was this fantastic, foreign sixth sense that shot like an arrow straight from the mobile suit into my brain.
I saw battle.
I felt battle.
I lived battle.
Lunge now.
Parry to the left.
Swing, bottom to top.
Thrust!
I heard these directions, but I couldn’t tell if they were suggestions from the system, my own thoughts, or those of my opponent. Nevertheless, I found myself following them.
Thrust! Thrust! Thrust!
There was a touch of madness in the tone and I found myself pushed flush up against my opponent. From shoulder to knee, there was not so much as a hair’s breadth between us. I could hear ragged panting in my ear; sweat dripped down my face. I could feel puffs of hot breath on my cheek; the tang of fresh sweat filled my nostrils. I knew that scent, it was a wonderful as it was dreadful for in smelling it, I knew I could not win this battle.
Sweaty bangs brushed along my cheek and the soldier I had been fighting pushed forward. Not only was there no space between our straining bodies, but there was no barrier. No mobile suit, no armor, not even clothing. And the body shoving against me was soft despite the obviously powerful muscles.
“Noin?”
The name barely escaped my lips before the form pushing against me faded into nothingness.
My newly acquired sixth sense seemed entirely unconcerned. The air merely shimmered, and the battle began again.
I was thrown back by the impossibly strong arms of an unknown mobile suit. All it took was a single swing of the sabre to know my opponent had morphed. In addition to impressive skill at wielding a beam sabre, my opponent now moved with undeniable grace. Not even the immense power behind each movement could mar its inherent elegance. With our unseen weapons clashing and sliding, we fairly waltzed through the ether.
One step back.
Sweep and block.
Half-turn and bow.
Two steps forward.
Turn and swing.
When he lunged, I dodged. If I struck a low blow, he leapt easily out of the way. When he immobilized my arms, I locked down on his legs. I knew without thinking our match could continue indefinitely. We knew each other far too well to succumb to even our most desperate attacks. This battle was not a matter of who was a better pilot, a better fighter, a better man. It was, unquestionably, a meaningless battle that would continue indefinitely as neither of us would ever be able to learn from one or teach the other.
“Treize.”
I found myself inexplicably pressed tightly against this man. On the back of my tongue, I tasted roses. The shell of my ear caught a quiet hum of confirmation. This time, however, I was not thrown back but it was Treize who flew back a short distance. I had barely detected the glint of silver before the man slit his own throat and dropped into the ether like a marionette with its strings cut.
Surprisingly, my sixth sense was giving me nothing but indifference. As before, the air shimmered and a new battle began.
Except this time, there was a definite tang of excitement in the air. Before me hung suspended in silent beauty a mobile suit that radiated but a fraction of the strength of the silent pilot contained therein.
When our battle began, it so far exceeded the sweaty exhilaration of anything I had experienced that I knew I was addicted before I finished my opening move. Here was a soldier’s soldier; someone who understood both the art and beauty of war as much as he understood its pointless nature. I found myself grinning, panting from the tantalizing mix of sheer physical exertion and overwhelming mental stimulus. It was pleasure unlike any I had previously known.
My opponent and I shared several passes. Unlike the previous battles, my newest sense seemed blatantly quiet. It made our battle feel more organic, more human…in a very literal sense. Our weapons were the first to drop away. Reaching to grapple with him, the Gundanium gauntlets fell away at the last moment to leave my bare arm reaching out. The focus of our battle narrowed as my hand connected with his now bare shoulder. The massive foot of his mobile suit whistled through the air but as I kicked my leg out between his own, I discovered I was merely knocking away the wiry muscled limb of a youth.
Giving a huge roar of excitement, I lunged forward in the strange anti-space. When I collided with him, it was like two stars colliding. For the first time since donning the helmet, there was something beyond the sixth sense of the suit. There was consuming light and with it, heat. And at the center of it all was a pair of cobalt blue eyes staring like burning straight at me.
***
I tore the helmet off my head; my chest was heaving from the informational onslaught received from ZERO. Everything he had experienced in the cockpit, I had just felt for myself. If it meant anything, it was that he was enthralled with a young soldier, with the youth who was destined to defeat him. But instead of taking the noble path of using his defeat to change the course of history, Zechs would allow himself to be seduced by the man who would defeat him.
“Fool,” I said aloud. For only a fool allows greatness to slip through his fingers for the sake of winning.
I was done with inflexible men dealing untenable dreams based on ludicrous notions. The suit was gone; Zechs was gone; but there was still hope. I was destined to die, but I would make sure it was for the right reasons. I ejected the disk containing the data from Zechs’ test run, tossed the cheap plastic device to the floor and ground it under my heel. Then, intent upon designs to change the permeable course of history in the making, I left the hangar.
***End