Crossover Fan Fiction / Gundam SEED Fan Fiction / Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Crossing Barriers ❯ Movement in Many Directions ( Chapter 23 )

Crossing Barriers

 

Beta Reader: T'Amara

 

 

 

Chapter : 23 Movement in many Directions

 

Disclaimer: I still do not own any part of Gundam Wing or Gundam Seed. They still belong to their respective creators and production companies. I do still own my own OC's and the plot though.

 

Ok, this is the last fully completed chapter. However, I do have the one after it started. I'll see if I can do this in less than four/five month intervals, which unfortunately has been my record this past winter and spring. (Not my year people, be patient please.)

 

 

 

The tiny shuttle was matte black and radar deflective. It was too small to be sitting where it was, so far from any working base or viable colony. It hadn't gotten there on its own, to the site of the only actual colony destroyed by a Gundam, that was for sure. But whatever help it may have had was nowhere in evidence. For now, it was rather effectively hidden among the wreckage and the trash. Someday, even this point would be completely salvaged but that would be decades in the future. For now, the colony ruins were a lawful dump site for ships that had materials that wouldn't recycle readily.

 

There was nothing to suggest it was even noticed by the massive ship cruising slowly around the edges of the debris field of the shattered colony as it prepared to add to the materials there. Appearances were deceptive however. And deception was vital. The place was too popular with the patrol ships of the Dawn as a rendezvous point. When you were supposed to be hiding from someone, prowling in his backyard probably wasn't the smartest thing you could do. Of course, it wasn't the first place he'd be looking for you either.

 

The Jack of all Trades was a Sweeper ship. Her people were from many places and of all races the solar system boasted but they were bound to the ship and each other by free-given oaths. There were nuclear families among the Sweepers of course. Some ships were manned almost entirely by a cooperative of up to eight dozen families, but the norm was still an unrelated crew loyal only to their ship and the Sweeper organization.

 

The old Alliance hadn't really paid much attention to the Sweepers. As long as their taxes were paid and their crews deferred to Alliance personnel, they were left largely alone to do their unglamorous but vital recovery work. OZ, tied up in the war, never had the time to consider them at all. The ESUN had chosen to follow the Alliance, although they were much more civil about it. And Crimson Dawn just didn't have the men or ships to waste on a bunch of scruffy scavengers.

 

The head of the Preventers on the other hand, had noticed. Lady Une, with a lot of help from Maxwell and granted Howard's agreement, had been the only outsider to penetrate to any depth into the careful shell game that protected the Sweeper's secrets. Even the other Gundam Pilots only knew about the real Sweeper organization because Howard had given Maxwell permission to tell them when they'd been based off the Peacemillion. Given what he'd learned since this new war had started, the shuttle pilot was fairly sure even Maxwell hadn't been as well informed as the Deathscythe pilot thought he was.

 

All of them had kept the information away from Relena. Any number of people who were completely untrustworthy had had access to her. And while she was getting better at it as she got older, the Vice-Foreign Minister was still a poor actress under too many circumstances. She might not ever say anything but body language could also tell the astute observer things they shouldn't know. It was a sad fact that just being a worthless bastard didn't make one stupid or blind.

 

General Anne Une had hammered out a very sub-rosa agreement with Howard not long after the Mariemaia Incident. The few Preventers whom Howard had agreed Une could trust with the information kept their mouths shut. In return, Sweeper ships occasionally hosted the odd agent or so and helped them on their way. Neither side asked questions. Neither side discussed the situation. So when a small hatch that led to a darkened bay well away from the hatch where the trash was being carefully pushed out slowly opened onto vacuum it was ignored on the Jack's bridge. It stayed open briefly, then closed as deliberately as it had opened. When the Jack had finished dumping her garbage in with the rest that was part of that ruin and cleared the colony, the shuttle was gone.

 

Colonel Vicente Rojas, his uniform left in a bag in favor of a simple beige jumpsuit that was the standard shipboard dress of most career spacers, followed the shuttle's pilot through the nearly identical corridors of the massive vessel. Their meandering suggested carelessness or disinterest. But somehow, they managed to pass bays and store rooms with their doors opportunely open just as the two men went by. Rojas did not smile although he wanted to. It was a relief to see everything in readiness.

 

They drifted into `officer's country' and the Colonel was unsurprised to find himself outside a very plain hatch with a small plaque on it that read “Howie”. His guide knocked on the hatch. Whatever the noise that came back was supposed to have been, the man took it for permission to enter.

 

The office behind the door was smaller than he'd been expecting. Howard was functionally the Chief of the Sweepers after all. This space wasn't as big as the one he'd used when aboard the Lawkeeper.

 

“Vicente! Good to see ya made it.” Howard stood up and shoved out a hand to be shaken.

 

Rojas obliged the man, inwardly wincing at the sheer garishness of his orange and blue Hawaiian shirt. “It's good to see you as well Howard. I believe they are hunting for you almost as hard as they are me.”

 

“Yeah, they are,” the old man agreed, peering over the top of his trademark dark glasses. “Having just about as much luck there too. I hope Frank here showed ya around on the way in.”

 

“He did,” the Colonel agreed. “Your preparations look to be nearly complete.”

 

“Everything will be ready to go in three hours. We'll be passing the mobile suit factory by this time tomorrow. They really shoudda put that asteroid off limits. I still don't understand why they've left it a legal dump point.”

 

“I believe they think it is helping to hide the place,” the Preventer replied thoughtfully. “After all, you can't really be surprised at anything you find in a space dump. It does make getting supplies to the site clandestinely a lot easier. But you are right; they should have closed the space and put in proper defenses when they decided to move in on the revolt on L2. Supplies would still reach the place and security would have been a lot better. The Holt boy wouldn't have ever gotten into the base if they'd done their security correctly.”

 

Howard sighed. “Yeah, I was sorry to hear about that. Jim was a good kid, hell of a pilot and an outstanding navigator.”

 

Colonel Rojas shrugged. “So I understand. But seeing your entire family slaughtered in front of you does terrible things to a person. I am actually amazed he let himself live long enough to plan and carry out that bombing.”

 

The old Sweeper said nothing for a long minute, then just shook his head and changed the subject. “The `garbage dump' will take place in the center of the assembly zone. The Ragpicker has already made its drop. Treasure Finder should be off-loading their portion right about now. All you have to do is get your people out there to do the final assembly.”

 

“The team is already on-site,” Rojas replied with a rather sharp smile. “I've had word that Ragpicker not only left the expected supplies but dropped some extra as well. They tell me we should get four charges out of it now.”

 

Howard sat slowly, suddenly very sober. “Yeah, I heard. Scotty's countin' on you to get revenge for his family.”

 

“He isn't the only one.” Vicente let himself sag into the comfortable chair across from the desk, glad the Sweepers tended to keep gravity running on their ships.

 

The old man nodded grimly. “Nope, he's not. I spoke with Une last night and told her as per our agreement, we've begun to help your folks smuggle vulnerable and important people off planet and out of the colonies. And we're getting hold of some we know are likely to become targets too. We picked up Catherine Bloom when we swung by L3. They're hunting too hard for her brother, she was gonna be turned into a hostage before long.”

 

He shook his head, “Would you believe she wanted us to bring four lions too? Kept saying Trowa'd be real upset if anything happened to `em. She was pretty mad when we left the cats behind.”

 

Vicente rolled his eyes. Yes, he could very well imagine Catherine saying something like that. And he had no problems believing she'd really wanted to bring lions onto a long haul Sweeper ship either. She was a fine girl but there were times when she didn't see anything she didn't want to. Une had given him the report she'd gotten from whoever was hiding the pilots; he'd read Barton's concise comments on his sister's unwillingness to accept just how dangerous Crimson Dawn was. Mention of Barton's sister though reminded him he needed to tell Howard about another who needed rescue.

 

“Tell me, do you have anyone over by the L2 cluster who could rendezvous with the Justicar? One of our agents stumbled across Hilde Schbeiker when she intervened in a back alley attack on several young women by some Dawn enforcers. The others were locals who have homes and families that will help hide them but the Schbeiker girl is on her own right now. She is avoiding her family in the hopes that the Dawn won't go for them because of her association with Maxwell. Our agent got her off the colony but the ship is badly damaged and won't stand a chance in a fight if a Dawn patrol finds her. We've been using her as a way-station but I have no resources close enough to get her off in less than two weeks. Given the rise in Dawn activity in the L2 cluster, I'm seriously worried about someone stumbling on her.”

 

“Smart of her to keep her folks out of it,” Howard growled as he reached for his com-pad. “Let me see who's close enough to make the pick-up and sharp enough to do it right. You want us to clear the ship?”

 

Colonel Rojas hesitated. The Justicar had been unbelievably handy where she was, he really didn't want to lose her. But her luck was getting stretched thinner by every shuttle that locked onto her landing bay. The ship might be safer if they abandoned her for a while and let the area cool off.

 

He said so and that started a discussion on relative safety that lasted through lunch. In the end, he and the old Sweeper agreed to pull the small crew and whoever was aboard off and send them traveling with one of the truly huge Sweeper family ships. The big vessels never made any port, they were too large for it, and they stayed well away from the usual shipping lanes. Even if the Dawn won a total victory, they were as safe a retreat as the entire solar system could offer. Howard had a small salvager in the immediate vicinity whose crew had done these rescues before. He trusted them to get the people off the Justicar. Vicente trusted the old man's judgment. He promised to get a message off to the Preventer ship as soon as the Jack dropped his shuttle.

 

They went over the plans for the bombs that would, if all went according to plan, shatter the asteroid mobile suit factory beyond recovery. It wouldn't win their war, they both knew it. There were facilities on the moon and at least one down on the planet that were being hurried into production. None of them though, would be on-line in less than eight weeks no matter how hard they drove their workforce.

 

This attack would bring current production to a complete halt. And that would give them time to cut into the Dawn's huge equipment advantage. It was becoming imperative that something shut down the enemy's manufacturing capacity for a while or not even getting the five Gundams they were hoping would be returning would be enough.

 

*** *** *** *** *** ***

 

The main lounge of the Robert H Hobart was in a state of barely ordered chaos. There were tangled lines of people struggling to reach their assigned table stretching the length of the nearly fifty meter space. Many were, at best, walking wounded as well and had medical support with them. Mu La Flaga was careful to stand as far to the side as he could in the sincere hope he wasn't going to be sucked into the mess. Athrun, Andy, Murrue and Mir were crowded into the small wall alcove with him.

 

He'd been awakened from a sound sleep nearly four hours ago with word that the rescue parties and warships from L4 were almost to the crater. Within half an hour, a mass of overland vehicles and nearly twenty ships had overrun Endymion. The arguments about who was in charge had started immediately, only to be settled surprisingly quickly by Vice-President Harper, who very coldly pointed out that she was the ranking individual on site and everyone else could shut up and just work together to get the survivors out. He and Athrun had backed her for the Aube with the injured but still very feisty Commander Thoms bellowing down the ZAFT hotheads.

 

The first people treated and out of the Hobart were the worst of the medical cases. They'd been quickly sorted out by nation and dispatched to the best medical facility their group had, be it one of the two small MASH units the land teams had brought or the infirmary of one of the better set up warships. That left them with the current mess as everyone else wanted out too and they wanted to leave now.

 

“We are being blessed with another ship,” Athrun spoke just loud enough for the rest to hear him.

 

“You sure?” Andy asked quickly.

 

“Put your hand on the metal railing. You can feel the harmonics. Whoever it is, they have big engines.”

 

The three of them shifted slightly and each reached for the railing that was so discretely placed around the wall to aid less experienced lunar travelers in staying upright when the ship was in transit. Athrun was right, the metal was humming. In fact, it was singing louder than it had when the Izumo herself had landed. Mu fought to keep the frown off his face. Whoever the new guy was, he was a major player. A very familiar player too. Damn it! He knew he should recognize that rumble.

 

“Archangel!” Murrue sounded shocked but she managed to keep her voice down. “I'd know those engines anywhere!”

 

Andy's head turned sharply. “Are you sure?”

 

“Yeah,” Mu answered softly, not about to admit he hadn't been able to place the familiar feel first. “I'd know `em anywhere too. It's Archangel all right. I give it fifteen minutes, tops, before the Princess gets here too.”

 

“Probably,” Murrue was almost giggling. “She's the only person who could have authorized sending her up after all.”

 

“Yes,” Mir agreed, “but why did she?”

 

“I wonder if something has been learned at Mendel.” Athrun was staring very thoughtfully at nothing physically in front of him. “We've seen those last reports that came in shortly after the battle ended. If I was going to investigate the place, she's the ship I'd choose. The PLANTs have science ships more appropriately equipped for the search but they can't fight their way out of a tight spot if that gold light turns out to be some new weapon system.”

 

“Point,” Andy nodded. “Let's hope she's got good news from there as well.”

 

“Yeah,” Mu agreed shortly.

 

The four of them watched the far doorway with impatient eyes. True to Mu's prediction, just about fifteen minutes later there was a sudden swirl in the people being allowed out of the room. Blonde[Author ID1: at Sun May 11 23:29:00 2008 ] hair suddenly bobbed into view. Then the much taller figure of Shin Asuka followed the rapidly moving blonde[Author ID1: at Sun May 11 23:29:00 2008 ] into the room. One quick glance around and he'd spotted them.

 

“Cagalli! Far side of the room!”

 

Mu just gave his head a minute shake. The boy was growing up but he still had a lot to learn about protocol. Then Athrun stepped past him and he just grinned.

 

“Kid's getting up there,” Andy muttered.

 

“Asuka? Yeah, he's hit a real growth spurt. Shot up close to five nine last I heard a figure. Looking at him now, I'd guess he may be a bit over that. Kid's gonna end up a real tall one.”

 

“And how is he using his new height?” Mir asked, not really over-fond of the one-time ZAFT ace.

 

Mu chuckled. “Well, he tried intimidating Zala just once; you can guess how that went. And the last time he saw Kira, he backed down before he could really get started. Yamato has developed into a surprisingly imposing young man for all that he's just middle height himself. When he wants to, the kid can have a presence that rivals Lacus at her best. Shin, well, Shin just isn't in that class yet.”

 

“Never gonna be either,” Mir growled darkly.

 

Andy tipped his head and gave her a somewhat weary, one-eyed stare. “Never be so sure you know how anyone's going to turn out. Would you have ever believed the kid would be back in Aube, and in her military no less, if someone asked you a year ago?”

 

Mir grimaced but was too intrinsically honest not to admit the truth. “If you'd asked last year, I would have told you it would be impossible.”

 

“He's growing up, Mir, and that's not an easy process for anyone, let alone someone with his background.” Andy said gently as most of the room watched the Chief Representative of Aube grab Athrun Zala and hold on like the world was ending while Zala held her just as securely. “He's a hot-tempered boy but he's learning to manage it. Then too, would you have pegged Joule as someone who could become Commander of FAITH at twenty?”

 

“Not in five lifetimes,” she admitted with a small smile. “I hope Kira and the idiot are all right.”

 

“The Kusanagi sent a report just as we landed,” Shin had somehow just appeared beside them; he'd plainly caught Mir's last comment but he didn't act like he'd heard the whole thing, a blessing given his still uneven temper. “They don't have them aboard yet but they have both visual and direct communications with all three. Commander Yamato and Wing Elsman are fine, the mobile suits have minimal damage, and Commander Joule has a broken collar bone. No other damages reported.”

 

The young pilot sighed softly, “and Kira's record of heroic success is still perfect. He managed to arrest the swing battle debris had given the colony and restore it to stable orbit. He makes my teeth hurt. How can anyone be that faultless?”

 

Mu gave him a single raised eyebrow look and a lopsided grin. “Believe me Asuka, Kira isn't perfect. I've had to haul his backside out of more than one mistake. He's just a fast learner, that's all, so he rarely repeats his errors.”

 

Asuka's red eyes glared but the look lacked its old power. Yeah, Andy was right. The kid was actually growing up. It was kinda good to see it really happen. Like Mir, he wouldn't have put much money on this ever happening if asked a year ago.

 

“Good news aside,” Waltfeld spoke clearly but quietly, “what brings the Archangel up at this time?”

 

“I don't know,” Shin admitted, taking a somewhat wary glance around to be sure they weren't being too carefully watched. “But whatever it is, it's big enough for the Princess to not only get the ship supplied, crewed and launched in record time, it's enough for the Council to agree she could come along. I'm only here because the Council insisted there be an adequate escort for the ship on the way here.”

 

He scowled. “Well, that and I didn't want her just making off with my mobile suit like she said she was going to either. You could claim I sort of volunteered I suppose. At any rate, now I get to be escort for the Izumo, to make sure they get back to Aube with the survivors without any `unpleasant surprises' as Lady Mina put it. Captain La Flaga and Zala will be going on with the Archangel. I know the first stop will be the PLANTs to see Kira but Cagalli has something else she wants to do and she isn't explaining it to anyone.”

 

Mu pretended he didn't see Shin's questioning look and was very careful not to look over at Andy Waltfeld. They didn't need to be giving Asuka any clues. Yes, he was growing up but he didn't think the younger pilot was steady enough yet for any of the really secret secrets.

 

This sudden trip on Cagalli's part smacked of something extraordinary. The Council in Aube didn't want the Chief Representative haring off across space doing who knew what in the nation's name without them keeping a hand on things. Oh, the girl ultimately ruled the roost right now but the professional politicians of the Council weren't going to let her do it without at least some opposition and nosey parkering. Personally, he could think of only one thing that it might relate to; an image more absent than present that Athrun had brought back from Lacus. An image that had been taken at Mendel Colony, where Kira was right now.

 

“I suppose we'll find out when we get to the PLANTs,” Andy offered thoughtfully, just as though he wasn't as sure as La Flaga what was going on.

 

“Shin!”

 

They all turned to see Neumann standing by the main lounge doors. “Shin, we need to get the Destiny over to the Izumo! Captain La Flaga, Captain Zala, we need your mobile suits aboard Archangel as quickly as we can get them there. We have a favorable launch window for the PLANTs for the next three hours. We need to be away by then.”

 

He saluted Murrue Ramius from across the room. “Captain, Ma'am, you are needed on the bridge.”

 

Murrue turned to Miriallia Haw. “Mir, I need a good CIC again. Are you available?”

 

“I work freelance,” she replied with a small smile. “If I promise the station the story, I think they'll be fine with it.”

 

The Captain of the Archangel simply smiled back. “You may promise them the first release of all information that isn't classified. Pending Cagalli's agreement, I'll even let you post human interest stories as we go. Think you can sell that deal?”

 

“Why are we still standing here?” Mir asked with a huge grin.

 

*** *** *** *** *** ***

 

Kira slipped quietly into the quarters General Kisaka had assigned to the three of them. The Kusanagi was crowded this trip. She'd been sent up with soldiers and equipment meant to rebuild Aube's station in the L4 cluster. And while they'd managed to unload some of the gear, most of the troops had still been aboard when the Moon was attacked. The best Kisaka had been able to offer them was a quad in the junior officer's areas. Having looked around, Yzak had accepted for them all with genuine graciousness.

 

Personally, Kira could care less. If someone else had already made the bed, he would have been fine with a space on the deck between his mobile suit's feet. It had been a very long day and the last bit, the intensive run through the hands of the medical staff complete with well-disguised nosey questions from Kisaka, had worn him out completely. Yzak and Dearka hadn't escaped the doctors yet so he was going to get first choice.

 

A quick look around showed him a well appointed, if standard, four man space. There were the usual pair of bunk beds on the sides and the space at the foot of the beds by the door was deep enough for each man to have his own small work desk. Lockers under the bunks provided stowage space for uniforms and personal items. This being officer's country aboard the Kusanagi, there was even a small bath with a tiny shower, something most ships didn't include for anyone besides the ship's captain.

 

Top bunk wasn't his personal favorite so he simply took over the lower one on the right. It was the work of seconds to stow the few things he'd brought from their usual places in Strike-Freedom and not much longer to peal himself out of the flight suit he was still wearing or to fold it neatly away as well. He took advantage of the shower, being cooped up in a flight suit for hours always left him feeling grubby, but even a shower wasn't as inviting as the thought of sleep, he didn't linger in the warm water at all.

 

Clean, dry, dressed for bed, Kira rolled into the bunk with relief, very pleased to find the mattress unusually comfortable for a military bed. Knowing Yzak was likely to be in a sour mood and not at all interested in being awakened to listen to him grouse, he pulled the privacy screen Aube provided for their shipboard beds. He discovered the screen refused to latch. Still, it closed enough to block out light and to at least look like it was secured. Ok, so the bunk wasn't perfect. It didn't matter. He was out like a light within seconds of his head hitting the pillow, vaguely grateful that the ship was currently maintaining enough gravity to let him sleep without having to worry about drifting around in the bed.

 

It was the hiss of angry whispering that woke him about an hour later. For a moment, Kira was unsure where he was or who was out there. Then the sleep fog cleared and he recognized Yzak and Dearka's voices and the bed he was in. Yzak sounded just about as short-tempered as Kira had been expecting him to be. Dearka sounded frustrated. Yeah, pulling the screen had been a good idea. Then what Dearka was actually saying registered and he was suddenly listening very intently indeed.

 

“Yzak! Will you please just listen for a change? A bio-hazard bag is not the same thing as a cryo unit, damn it! This stuff will deteriorate if it warms up and the samples will be useless!”

 

There was a soft but solid sound of a hand hitting something yielding, the blow harder than it should have been judging by the small creak that sounded. “I would appreciate it if you would quit repeating yourself instead. And don't be a fool. The police use materials that have been dried out for decades! A few days in that sealed bag, well away from air or contaminates, won't make any serious difference.”

 

“The key here,” Kira winced at the savage bite in the normally easygoing Dearka's voice, “is the phrase dried out. These are nice, fresh, wet samples we have here! And they had air in them when I scavenged them! My last cool pack is already warming up. They're going to be at room temperature in a few hours. Tell me Yzak, do you recall what `rot' is? Because that's just what these will do!”

 

“What?!”

 

“Rot,” Dearka snapped, his volume rising noticeably as his temper frayed. “Organic materials do that you know.”

 

“Will you keep your voice down?” Joule hissed. “I do not need Yamato's morals getting messed up in this!”

 

Kira sat up in the bunk, blinking in surprise. His morals? Just what was Yzak up to that he was worried about his Second's morals? Wait, fresh, wet samples of what?

 

Elsman heaved a deep but quiet sigh before he spoke much more quietly. “Look, we took unfair advantage of Maxwell's warning as it is. Even you admitted that. Now, I got these at your direction and believe me, it wasn't fun. I'd really rather have been the one on lookout! So since I had to do it, I seriously don't want to waste the whole effort, all right?”

 

Wha…? Maxwell's warning? This made no . . . ., oh shit, suddenly it did make sense. Kira could feel the heat rising in his face as he realized just what Yzak had done. He had a sudden hollow feeling in his midsection too. Because if he was right, there were five very skilled mobile suit pilots with damn fine machines to hand who were going to be pissed beyond belief at this trick. He honestly didn't want to be testing Phase Shift armor against Yuy's buster rifles!

 

Really, Joule was beginning to sound like an angry snake with all the hissing he was doing. “And what do you expect me to do about this? Do you think I keep cryo-units in a pocket or something?”

 

“Well,” Dearka sounded more than a bit lost at the moment, which was probably why one of the single most inane suggestions Kira had ever heard came stumbling out of his mouth. “How about you just ask the Medical Section to put it in their cryo-storage until we get back to the PLANTs?”

 

“Have you lost your mind?!?” Yzak yelped, forgetting all about keeping quiet as his temper approached boiling over. “Why of course I could do that. Just ask `would you mind storing alien organics for us? Just until we get to the PLANTs of course, then we'll get them out of your hair.' Oh that will go over well! Since it's clearly slipped your mind, may I remind you that Aube is just an ally, NOT ONE OF THE PLANTs! This is supposed to be a secret, damn it!”

 

Nope, chances of his being wrong about this were getting about equal to those of snowballs on the sun. Kira realized he'd better take a hand here or this `secret' was going to be very public property as Joule's voice was starting to climb well into a range where it would be audible right through the door. He jerked the sleep screen open to glare at the other two, and was a bit surprised to realize he was pretty close to flat out furious himself.

 

“I'm awake, Yzak,” he snapped coldly. “And if you don't shut up, everyone from here to the Moon is going to know what is going on here. Personally, I don't think you want Maxwell finding out.”

 

While Joule gaped at him, rather like a fish actually, he turned his attention to the flustered Elsman. “You ever heard of ice, Dearka? People use it for keeping things cold. You can get it by the bucket from the mess. Just say you need it for some bruise Yzak has. Once you have the ice, grab a sick-sack from any emergency station and make your very own, assemble it yourself cryo-unit.”

 

He glared as they both turned red. “You're supposed to be Coordinators, try plugging your brains back in, will you?”

 

They blinked at him and Kira saw something he'd missed. Both of them had very dilated pupils. What had they been given down there in Medical? And why had Dearka gotten whatever they thought Yzak needed?

 

“Yzak?” He asked, in a much softer and calmer tone than he'd been using, “what are you on?”

 

“Tri-phase.”

 

That explained a good deal. Tri-phase was a painkiller, muscle relaxant, and sedative combination often used when someone had multiple, but fairly mild, issues that needed treatment that was both effective in all directions and had very few side effects. Unfortunately, one of the most common of those few side effects was a slowing of mental processes as the sedative portion took hold.

 

“Why did you take it Dearka?”

 

“Doc found a pulled muscle in my lower back,” Elsman answered. “Nothing bad but he wanted me to get some real sleep and let it rest.”

 

“So now we know where your brains got shut off.” Kira just shook his head. “I hope you didn't discuss this at all outside this room?”

 

“I'm not that out of it,” Yzak growled quietly.

 

“Good,” Kira replied evenly. “Elsman, put that bag down and go find some ice, all right?”

 

“Sure,” he agreed, handing the bag to Yzak and slipping quickly out the door.

 

For his part, Yzak turned and sat on the other lower bunk, plunking the bad gently down beside him. “I suppose you're going to offer a lecture now. And I'm not afraid of that buffoon either.”

 

He gave his commander a dark stare. “You should be. There's a lot more to Duo Maxwell than he generally let us see. I was watching some of the records I stole while we were out there waiting for the Kusanagi. Tell me, do you know who Shinigami is?”

 

“Who? Why does it matter anyway?”

 

“You don't know, do you?” Kira had learned early that phrasing something as a challenge to Yzak's intellect could take him further than just arguing would.

 

“Of course I do,” Joule scowled. “Shinigami are minor death spirits. They escort the dead to the afterlife. They are somewhat similar to the European concept of a grim reaper.”

 

“That's what they are here,” Kira agreed. “But on Maxwell's side of the dimensional wall, Shinigami is the God of Death. And it is his code name. You might want to give that a bit of thought before you start something you can't stop with him.”

 

He shook his head slowly. “You missed it, that first time we all sat down in the lounge, but I caught a glimpse of someone very different from the friendly motor-mouth he uses as a front. I will tell you this plainly, I don't want to meet him in Shinigami mode. I think for pure ruthlessness, he may exceed Yuy. And he isn't nearly as stupid as he plays either. You need to watch some of the data we have now. There's a lot of footage from their recent wars in there. None of those guys is any less a veteran than you are, and all of them are lethal. So, would you please explain why you did something so risky?”

 

Yzak shrugged, “I'll watch your data later but the answer to your question is, it all boils down to one thing; we need information, very basic information.”

 

He leaned forward, suddenly looking as tired as Kira still felt. “They look too normal Yamato, too much like they are just regular humans putting up an impossibly elaborate sham. Why would aliens from another dimension look so much like us? I can't think of any reason why they should seem so normal if they really are from across a space-time barrier. Now, I'm not saying they aren't, I can't prove it either way. But what we have here can. Because if they really are aliens, then the evidence will be written in their genetics.”

 

Oh, well, yes. Kira admitted he hadn't considered that at all. The evidence in the mechanics of the mobile suits alone had convinced him. Well, that and knowing he'd seen Heavyarms, Deathscythe, and half of Wing Zero through a completely impossible hole in the air a few weeks earlier that was. Combine that with the language issue and he really was quite sure they weren't native to this space-time. But yeah, genetic proof would be absolute evidence. He could admit that having absolute proof could be important sometime too but he sincerely hated to consider a situation where they'd need to use it. Too many people would know too much for everyone's peace of mind if that happened.

 

“I,” Kira spoke slowly, absorbing the reasoning, “I guess I understand the motivation. But what did you do? How did you get their genetics?”

 

Yzak Joule suddenly resembled nothing so much as a very ripe tomato topped by a silver wig. “I had Dearka check the wastebaskets in their rooms when we first got up today. It seems they have condoms on their side of the dimensional wall too. I had him grab two from each room.”

 

“Oh.” Kira was pretty sure his face had just gone as red as Yzak's. “Condoms?”

 

“Well, yes. They had them neatly tied off already so there wasn't any contamination issue to worry about.”

 

A mental image of poor Dearka sorting through a selection of, ah, used materials, made him feel a bit faint. Good Lord! What would Yzak have had him doing if he hadn't gotten out early?

 

“Dearka must have loved that one.” Kira locked his eyes on the blanket, unable to even consider meeting Joule's eyes.

 

“Wasn't my most popular order,” Yzak mumbled.

 

“I'll bet!” Kira replied with deep feeling.

 

He took a breath, held it for a few seconds, then let it go, sending as much of his embarrassment with it as he could. Ok, they had genetic samples. Never mind for the moment how they'd been acquired. Or what it said about the five they had come from that there were apparently plenty to chose from either. The next question was, “What are you planning to do with them anyway?”

 

“Well, I will consult with Lacus of course, but I think we'll end up taking them to Dr. Ito. He's the expert after all. And we know enough about some of his stunts to be able to flat out blackmail him into keeping his mouth shut if we have to.” Yzak replied wearily, the anger from earlier worn away now. “Although, to be honest, that old man can keep a secret with the best of them when he wants to. And I think this time, he would want to.”

 

Kira gave that some thought. He didn't really like or fully trust Dr. Roland Ito but Yzak had a point about his abilities. The man was probably the finest practical geneticist in the PLANTs now that former Chairman Durandil was dead. He had another serious point about the cunning old goat's ability to keep his mouth shut too. The man collected secrets like kids did shells on a beach. Unlike the kids with their shells though, Roland didn't share his secrets. It had taken some time but Kira had finally decided that Dr. Ito really did want the best for his fellow Coordinators.

 

But there was no denying his methods and morals weren't always the cleanest when he really, really wanted something, be it information or someone's genetics for his Project. If the tactics of the Ito Project hadn't demonstrated that, then the fact that the man had worked with his own father on the Ultimate Coordinator program until shortly before the destruction of Mendel Colony certainly did! Still, the work being done by the Project was, so far, offering the best chance of freeing them from the necessity of having a full medical lab to reproduce The papers Ito was publishing were fueling the rising hope that within a few generations Coordinators would be able to have children, fully Coordinator children, just as normally as Naturals did.

 

So he could only nod agreement to Yzak's half-made plans. “I think you're probably right.”

 

“But,” Kira added firmly, “this can never get out. I don't want to have to actually fight Yuy and the others. Those mobile suits of theirs are as much Gundams as ours are. And, having watched that footage, I think they were downplaying rather than exaggerating their skills too.”

 

“Yes,” Joule agreed heavily, “I have to agree. I never got the chance to directly check any of those suits but even if they have no more than they've already shown us, those are dangerous machines.”

 

“Good, glad to hear you say that” Dearka spoke from the doorway. “I've got the ice.”

 

Yzak turned wearily. “Thank you. Did you get something to put it in?”

 

“Yep,” Dearka agreed, stepping forward and shutting the hatch.

 

“How much did you hear?” Kira asked.

 

“I opened the door on your remark about skills not being exaggerated,” Elsman replied. “I was followed back from the mess. I don't think he was close enough to have heard anything though. It does look like General Kisaka thinks we aren't being fully forthcoming with him though.”

 

“Probably because we aren't,” Kira agreed.

 

Yzak eyed the entry without favor. “That is a very quiet hatch; I didn't hear it open at all.”

 

“Too quiet,” Kira agreed. “I didn't hear it either. We're going to need to reset it ever so slightly. We don't need to be eavesdropped on through a cracked hatch we didn't notice opening.”

 

“I'll diddle it in the morning,” Dearka promised. “Can someone hold the bag open so I can dump this ice into it?”

 

Yzak took the bag and held it open without a word. Dearka put in perhaps a third of the ice he'd brought, then placed the sealed bio-hazard bag in on top of it. The rest of it was carefully added until the smaller bag was well buried. He put the filled bag into one of the lockers under the bed, counting on the contact with the rather cool metal of the drawer to help retard the inevitable melting of the ice.

 

By unspoken consent, one of the desk chairs somehow made its way out of its alcove and just happened to park itself right in front of the hatch. Dearka's boots managed to find their way onto the chair seat too. If anyone wasn't very careful how they entered the room, they'd knock those boots all the way to the bathroom door and wake the three of them. They were now as secure as they could manage without tipping their hand to Kisaka that there was something here he needed to investigate.