Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Reprieve ❯ Chapter 21

Chapter 21

It was too well lit to hide well inside the Shadowdiver, though Duo seemed to be doing a good enough job of it, Quatre had not laid eyes on him in close to an hour. He was almost positive they had swept the whole ship. He knew he had killed at least thirty men, but he wanted to be positive the place was clean before going back out and getting Jax. He also wanted to find Duo. While he was sure the other pilot was perfectly capable of hiding, especially in this ship, the lack of any noise he did not make himself was starting to grate on Quatre's nerves.

The silence was making his heart drum, and that was never a good sign. It was, at least, becoming easier to figure out where he was. The basic layout of all the Sweeper ships was the same, it was just the details which appeared to change.

They were built about a stabilizing core; a mammoth, apparently impenetrable spherical room that contained the majority of the ships drivers, engine and balancing mechanisms. Quatre met with the wall of it three times but saw no way in, so he avoided it. Spreading out around the core were the medical facilities; four labs, interspersed with several sleeping quarters used for recovery. Spreading out from these came the sleeping quarters in another large circle. Then, on the outer edges, hangars and docks, and, of course, the bridge. Quatre had started at the right docking bay, moved clockwise throughout the whole ship several times and had finally returned to the bridge. There were voices within. Several. That did not bode well.

Focusing everything inward, Quatre focused his space heart and a moment later fell hard into the wall, gasping for breath. Fear. An ocean of fear. And pillars of death, decay, destruction.

Gathering his senses, Quatre cocked and loaded the rifle once more with tranquilizers. He knew, instinctively that the Doctors were on the bridge, despite the fact he had supposedly shot them on the Peacemillion. Somehow they had fooled them, but now it was Quatre's turn to do the fooling because while he knew the doctors were there, he also knew the fear was not coming from them. He had sensed this fear once before.

Duo. They said they were coming for Duo.

Growling low in the back of his throat, Quatre quickly ran back through the corridors to Duo's room; that small pocket of safety Howard had created out of pure love and kindness that Quatre and Trowa had once stumbled upon by complete accident. From there it was easy to climb once more into the ventilation system, a simple thing to follow Duo's fine markings to the bridge. So simple, yet so completely unexpected. It wasn't until he was almost there that he realised he was not the first to have such a brilliant plan. The small ventilation shaft was filled with smoke and one of the vent plates was missing.

They had gassed Duo. Scowling darkly, Quatre cocked his weapon and began edging his way forward, pulling a scarf from his back pocket to cover his mouth. It was spun to keep desert sand out; it would do for this. Besides, the gas was fading. He felt it sting his eyes, but it lacked potency.

The thing about vent plates is the grain of the grate is too fine, too constricting to be able to shoot through easily. You have to angle the gun straight down, which basically means you have to be right on top of a person to shoot them, and your shot will probably be lethal as it'll go straight down from the head to some place Quatre really didn't want to think about.

Quatre wasn't after a lethal shot; he wanted to present the doctors to Howard alive so that revenge could be sweet and long. He had his own scores to settle.

Glancing through the square-patterned grid, Quatre caught a glimpse of jet hair and a balding head and knew it was the very same doctor who had trained him to be a Gundam Pilot. He strangely felt no guilt at the thought of now working against him. Rather a numb kind of fury was resting in his gut that a man he had once trusted had turned against him. It was only fair he did the same.

Moving so slowly he wondered himself if he was even moving, Quatre shifted over the cold metal until he could see all five scientists, clustered around a very unconscious Duo. Doctor G was injecting something into Duo's arm, another man with a mechanical arm holding it at the elbow in a large claw. Quatre instinctively knew he was out of time and lifted the gun.

Calculating the depth he had to dip the nozzle to get past the grid without it being visible on the other side was difficult. Getting a clean shot of anything from that position was near impossible, but Quatre did it in a matter of seconds, flicked the safety off and fired.

The man who had trained him died quickly. Too quickly for the pain he had no doubt caused, in Quatre's opinion. Aiming again, shifting the angle just enough another doctor went down, but he was the last as the remaining three lurched into action, grabbing Duo, the large one slinging the limp form over one shoulder as they shifted behind the control panel. It was an effective cover. Quatre could no longer reach them without moving to such an extent he had no doubt he would be seen. He cursed the innate intelligence of such men, then steeled himself, forcing a calm into his self he did not feel. He could match them at strategy. Of that he was positive.

Once again the layout of the bridge came to mind as soon as he bid it do so, and in his mind's eye he studied it, running through possible scenarios and discarding them just as quickly s they were formed. Each was more daring and more dangerous than the last but that did not phase him. He had seen the other pilots go down for less.

A plan came to mind and he snagged it, not immediately discarding it. The original idea was not workable, but the more he played with it the more promise it had. Finally, Quatre moved back from the grid he was resting on, moving back into the outer hallway, moving into the inner ring of the ship and following the core's wall with one hand. He did not dally but sprinted the whole way, trusting his fingers to find what he needed while his mind continued to work through his plan. There was no distraction.

His fingers snagged on something, the barest hint of a line and he halted, took a step back and studied the wall. Sure enough, there was a ventilation shaft above and he was quickly inside, staring at a complex system guard that kept the door sealed. Chewing on his lip Quatre did not hesitate, ripping out a small rations pack from his left pocket and tearing the wrapping off. He moved to the nearest corner and found Duo's carved directions and pressed the wrapper to the wall, praying no one had bothered to clean the vents lately. Taking the wrapper back to the wall, he held it up to the small scanner and watched the red lines pinpoint what they were after. The door slid open silently. Quatre wasted no time going inside.

Heat. Blasting, boiling, maddening heat. He landed in a burning slush and felt it sink through his shoes, heat the plastic of his soles and seep into his socks. Like…

Glue. Gallons of a glue-like substance, thick and sticky and melting. Quarte glanced about the room and his eyes fastened on the central core; a massive engine that hissed and screeched as it bludgeoned itself into action again and again. Only it should not have been running at all. The bridge had been quiet…

Something was broken, Quatre realized. The engine was overheating, possibly about to reach meltdown if the sludge he was wading through was anything to go by. They had to detach the Peacemillion immediately!

Snagging his communicator from his belt Quatre dialed Trowa and waited patiently for the calm response.

`03' cackled over the communicator and Quatre fle this muscles ease in response.

"Detatch the Peacemillion from the Shadowdiver and get as far away as possible."

"Roger that. Status?"

"On my way to fetch Duo. Two Doctors dead. Shadowdiver core in meltdown!"

"Quatre…"

"Now, Trowa!" Quatre flicked the communicator onto silent mode, hoping they would message him if anything critical happened, and he put the situation out of mind, lunging into the hot liquid and getting on with his self-appointed mission.

It wasn't glue, he realized as he pushed through; not quite, though it was similar to what they had put in the Gundams. It was thicker, filled with a firmer substance. A variation designed to handle heat on a much larger scale. There seemed to be gluten involved, the fetid stench of burning sugar making him giddy.

Quatre crawled up onto the main engine, crawling across the hot metal to the computers at the central section of the core. It was difficult to tear the panel loose and crawl inside, the metal burning his hands and the gun growing warm in his hands. Quatre didn't let it affect him, focusing completely on the task. He crawled through the tight space, following the wires and eventually broke through another panel leading to the computer core. He followed the cables once more until he came to the panel leading to the bridge's breaking system desk. Moving once more with caution, Quatre opened the panel, and then sat. Silent. Listening.

There were whispered voices on the far side of the room but they were too soft to make out words. Shifting, Quatre rolled out of the desk and behind the pilots platform. It was an easy thing to crawl on his stomach to a good vantage point, creeping up behind the communications desk and taking aim.

They were huddled there, ducks for the slaughter and Quatre studied them carefully as they riffled through the system tower. They were surprised at some of the systems the Sweepers were running, marveling at the advances the space jockeys had made in flight technology yet kept hidden from the rest of the world. Quatre felt pride rush through him and knew he was completely won over. He was no longer the tool of these men, but the friend of others. Like the one lying at their feet, twitching every once in a while.

The communicator vibrated silently against his hip and Quatre shifted slowly to lift it to his face, reading the message stoically.

`Peacemillion disengaging. Releasing Gundam to take care of problem.'

Gundam! They were going to destroy the Shadowdiver? Why…it would likely destroy itself in no time. Or maybe the Doctors knew the ship was in meltdown and were searching for the way to reverse the process. That would explain why they were rifling through the hard drive. And why they were not fighting for their lives. Something was slightly off with the whole affair.

Not that that was Quatre's problem. Moving into the best possible position, Quatre aimed and fired at the Doctor who had carried Duo, blasting both the man's knees and watching him fall to the deck in satisfaction. Another shot mangled the doctor's mechanical hand and a final shot got the mushroom head in the gut. Quatre did not care if it was a lethal shot; the man deserved much worse and it no longer appeared to be a priority to take them alive.

Rushing forward, gun raised, Quatre ran at them, perfectly in control.

"Move back or die! NOW! Get away from him, out of my way!"

They were scrambling, not stupid enough to interfere. They parted away from Duo's supine form, unable to run, but able to crawl far enough away that they were not an immediate threat. Quatre kept the gun trailed on them s he leant down and touched two fingers to Duo's neck, seeking out the pulse. It was racing.

"What did you give him?"

They looked so smug not answering Quatre shot doctor G in the thigh and demanded a response.

"A cocktail. Similar to the last we administered, but more…complete."

What did that mean? Quatre felt himself slipping and forced the calm back into his heart and mind. Both were aching with the pressure building up; the strain and stress, but he refused them both.

Grabbing hold of the back of Duo's shirt with one hand and keeping the gun up with the other, Quatre dragged his friend back behind the pilot's platform, using it as vain over against supposedly unarmed men. Quatre knew, however, that they had gas. There was no telling what else they had.

He slapped Duo's face lightly and waited as the body began to shudder and the eyes flickered beneath the lids then slid open.

"Wufei?"

"04!" Quatre snapped back and saw the struggle in those cobalt eyes to turn to soldier mode. It took longer than Quatre would have liked, but it happened. Duo followed the unspoken commands of his hands and headed for the door. Quatre followed, the gun still aimed at the doctors. He wanted to fire…just three more shots, but he restrained himself, deeming his soul worth more than their lives. Instead, he turned sharply on his heel and ran, not surprised when a gas capsule slipped through the closing door behind him.

Duo was flailing all over the corridor as he tried to run. Quatre simply wrapped an arm about his waist and hoisted them to the cargo bay, hissing their situation to Duo and praying the other boy had an idea.

"Not cargo. Go shipping. Port dock."

Quatre didn't question, turning sharply down a side corridor and rushing in the direction Duo said. He knew they had wasted far too much time. By now he had no doubts the shuddering in the ship were the results of meltdown and a Gundam was well on its way, the Peacemillion long gone.

They arrived in a storage zone of the ship used for shipping cargo and Duo led them to a large room filled with massive crates. Slamming the butt of the rifle against one Quatre watched it fall open to reveal an advanced kind of pod. They gleamed a dark, hideous silver in the red lights that began flashing overhead, followed by Duo's pre-recorded voice over the speakers.

"Shinigami has taken the ship, roll out the carpet and run like hell!"

Quatre merely lifted a brow at Duo who shrugged in response.

"Gundanium pods, fully equipped with enough guns to take out an Oz crusier."

Sweepers took no chances, apparently. In the case Oz ever tried to take their ships these little beauties would ensure nothing remained of either the Shadowdiver or the Oz ships attacking. They were immaculate things and Quatre wasted no time grabbing a fork lift and ramming two crates into the sealed shipping doorway. There, Duo set them up, fired the engines and crawled inside. Quatre saw pain written all over the other boy's face and a certain awareness as Duo fought against the pain. They both knew what was in his system and knew it was only going to get worse. Much worse.

"How do we open the door?"

"Automatic override is in the pod. I'll do it," Duo responded resolutely as he climbed inside and began sealing the small hatch. Quatre didn't waste time, leaping inside the second pod and grabbing the controls. His hatch was just hissing shut as the doors exploded outward and before he could think of driving anywhere they were tossed out in a rush of air and debris, pods hurtling at odd angles into nowhere. Quatre knew he was screaming but could not stop. He had never felt such complete fear as he watched the world spin, black at all angles, flashes of the Shadowdiver appearing in his vision at random intervals, a flash of Duo's pod, flash of Wing.

Wing…Dear Allah!

The explosion his next; the undeniable proof the Shadowdiver was in its death throws and then there was nothing but a great silence. Quatre opened his eyes to find his pod staring at the familiar red and blue front plates of Wing.

The communicator at his waist went off and Quatre clicked it back onto voice mode.

"Trowa?"

"Quatre! Thank heavens…"

"Trowa."

Quatre leant back in his seat and smiled, finally letting the adrenaline sweep away, leaving him tired and worn, but inexplicably happy and fulfilled.

Then the screaming started.