Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Slayers of the Dawn ❯ Part Two: Unreliable ( Chapter 2 )

Part Two: Unreliable

 

Being born a natural thief definitely had it's uses and perks, Duo decided as he shrugged into a clean vest and slid unnoticed down a side-hall, avoiding both guards and servants - and every one else - alike as he made his way towards the central meeting chambers, where Relena would be entertaining their guests. A few hours had passed since his abrupt re-disappearance and he seriously doubted she would be overly welcoming; it was best to slide in unnoticed and unannounced, and hopefully he could catch her at a time when her guard would be lowered and protocol called for her to remain tightly composed. His next berating would be put off indefinitely, as she tended to lose her anger and forgive fairly quickly, which had played in his favor many times in the past.

 

  He began to hum a little tune to himself, occasionally mumbling a few words to a song he had mostly forgotten as he set his back to a wall and waited for a chambermaid and a few commoners pass by. He was nearing the common mess hall, which was brimming with the towns-folk all talking and laughing and merrily sating their hunger, the companionable rumble of their noise drowning out his own little melody. From there he casually strode down the next hall and right passed the open doors, casually putting his hands in his pockets and sauntering by as if he wasn't deliberately trying to go unnoticed. Once he managed to slide past without being caught he picked up the pace, turning another two corners to enter the kitchens. Most of the cooks and waiters had already made their own plates and sat down to feast; once made, the meals tended to be serve-your-own and clean-your-own, a rule the previous mayor had implemented when called into office and Relena had studiously maintained. Their lives were generally hard enough, she was fond of saying, they didn't have to make it any harder by unfair treatments between one another. He tended to think this was rather noble of her - stupid, sometimes, but noble none the less. He had to admit, grudgingly thought it may have been, that she was good at what she did and was loved by the people. In fact -

 

  He stepped into the kitchens without looking first, momentarily distracted by his own wayward thoughts, and ran right into a young girl on her way out. On instinct he fumbled to try and catch her and hold her steady - an instant before a mean right hook caught him square in the jaw and knocked him back on his heels. "Baka!!"

 

  "Mou," Duo mournfully rubbed his wounded jaw and turned a pitiful look on Hilde, whose glare was snapping with anger. "Such violence from the women in my life ..."

 

  "Well, you drive us to it, Duo - I swear!" Slim fists clenched tightly at Hilde's sides as she shook a few locks of dark hair out of angry grey eyes and gave him the nastiest glare he'd gotten in a good long while. “Keeping up with you is like trying to care for a bloody two year old, except they at least listen to reason once in a while. You never do!”

 

Barely his own age, Hilde looked a lot younger due to her rather short height - and had learned to compensate with attitude. When angered she tended to be a lot more ferocious than Relena, whose ingrained pacifism kept her from truly opening the door to physical violence, save for a single hit or two. Hilde had no such qualms and had kicked his ass a couple times in the past when he got too difficult for Relena alone. Apparently this was one of those times.

 

He hastily back-pedaled out of the kitchen, raising his hands in surrender. She followed him like a bull, head down and shoulders lowered, fire and brimstone shining bright within the steel-toned shimmer of her eyes. “Now, Hilde …”

 

“Don't you `now, Hilde' me you unreliable little brat. Where the hell have you been these past three days? Oh, wait, let me guess. You can't say. Isn't that right?”

 

Biting his lip, Duo winced and dared a tiny nod, dodging just in time as Hilde - who must have been putting up her own dishes - launched a biscuit at his head with the force of a major-league pitcher with a snarl. “You know I can't -”

 

“That's right - you can't lie. So to keep yourself from fucking up and actually revealing something about what you do with all that bloody free time you seem to have on your hands while the rest of us are wading in the muck and trying to carve a living out of desert sand and rock, you just choose to say nothing at all.” She stopped her advance, baring her teeth and raising her fist to shake it in his face. “Well, let me tell you something Duo Maxwell, if you make Relena have one more nervous break-down over one of your stupid little trysts or disappearances or `down time' or whatever you want to call them … trust me, I have ways of making you talk. And you don't have to be alive for many of them to work, understand?”

 

Whereas he was currently pinned to the wall, Duo wisely chose to hazard what he hoped looked like an obedient nod. She was kind of … scary … at the moment and he didn't quite dare to do anything else. “Okay.”

 

“That's right, you better agree.” Still irritated beyond belief, Hilde took a moment to calm herself, closing her eyes and counting slowly down from two thousand - by sevens. When she felt relatively in control once more she turned to head back into the kitchens, sending a heated glare over her shoulder. “Fine. Well, come on then. Get your scrawny ass back in this kitchen and I'll fix you and plate. Not like you need any bloody sympathy, least of all from me. I should just let you stand out here and starve.”

 

That was the wonderful thing about Hilde, Duo thought as he grinned to himself and leapt forward to follow her. Motherhood had mellowed her out and given her the maternal caring instincts she had previously lacked. Three years ago she probably would have landed him in the hospice ward, where he would have been offered flavored broth or gruel as opposed to a heaping plate of lamb steak and buttered bread. Not quite willing to try her patience any more than he already had, he grabbed a stool and parked his rear, violet gaze hungrily watching as she heaped a plate full for him. By unspoken rule he always chose to eat last of all the townsfolk, as his appetite often carried him through three platefuls or more each meal. The cooks always rolled their eyes and complained that he kept them slaving all day long just to meet the demands his voracious appetite required. That was only the meals he took - not to mention the shear amount of snacks and nibbles he stole right beneath them all throughout the day and even some nights. Needless to say, they were the only ones who were truly relieved when he disappeared, for no other reason than it gave them a chance to relax and breathe, temporarily reprised of the arduous task of keeping him fed.

 

A few minutes later found him eagerly digging into the plate Hilde had made, his voice coming forth muffled and hardly recognizable as he inquired about the new-comers. He could have met them in the formal dining halls, where proper protocol would require Relena to maintain her composure and forestall any more beatings or verbal cuts if he'd truly wanted to. Despite how friendly and out-going he was normally, though, he had learned to be wary of strangers - and for good reason.

 

“They're no gypsies, that's for sure.” Hilde walked around to lean against the counter, crossing her arms and standing at ease as he ate. “Not really scavs or settlers, either. They have a high-powered donno-craft fueled by mineral deposits and hydroelectricity.”

 

“No shit!” Duo coughed abruptly, half-choking on a mouth full greens; Hilde came to give him a hearty pound on the back - perhaps a bit harder than the situation called for, really - until he cleared his throat with another weak cough or two. “Thanks. But there hasn't been a working donno-craft sighted in fifty years!”

 

“I know, and they don't have just one the three back-up generators, with a 30% plus magnitude boost and a double-hyperventilation systems with auto-runs. Four burns and a dual exhauster range with the capacity to fly a hundred and seventy-five clicks at max on startup.”

 

Woa. A hundred and seventy-five clicks on startup? That was no little hover they had, apparently. More like a dust-spitting, ass-kicking machine. Boy did his hands suddenly itch; he'd die to get them on that baby's guts, see what she was made of. Maybe even take her for a ride - just the mere thought made his mouth water. “Hot damn. You think they'd let us haul her on the hitches for a day - me and you?”

 

She snorted crudely, making an ugly face before lifting one brow in private irony. “Yeah, maybe, if it was up to the two-man crew. But the captain's got a major fucking attitude thing rocking on and has a stick so far up his ass I'm surprised he doesn't choke every time he talks.”

 

Had Duo actually been listening he probably would have fallen off his stool at the images those words evoked. As it was, he was barely listening, his mind filled with a few half-sketched fantasies of the donno-craft he had yet to see - most starring himself crouched in her engines, shoulder deep in pure mechanical power and grease. Gods above, could a man possibly get any closer to heaven than that? “If they're not gypsies or scavs, what are they then?”

 

“Hunters.”

 

That got his attention, and pretty damn fast. “Hunters? Of what?”

 

Stupid question, really, as he already knew the answer. He had known, deep down in the pit of belly, the instant he had caught sight of the craft, still a mere silhouette against the skyline. When she confirmed it though he flinched all the same. “Dragons.”

 

Hilde didn't see his reaction, and if she noticed his sudden change of conversation as he begged her off to describe more of the craft and the strangers she didn't bother to ask. By the time Duo had had his fill [seven fist-sized lamb steaks, a pound of vegetables, half a pot of mashed potatoes and five honey-butter biscuits later], the meal halls beyond had completely cleared and most of the town's occupants were bedding down for the night. Even Hilde was beginning to yawn and rub at her eyes, struggling to stay awake and answer all his avid questions. Duo took pity on her and let her go, walking her to her chambers before bidding they bid goodnight. She managed somehow to ring a promise out of him to stay the next five days - no unexpected absences, half-hearted dodges, or feeble excuses. For the next five days he was not to be unreliable in any way, which in and of itself was next to impossible for him. He knew he'd probably regret making that promise, but she had looked so weary at that moment - so tired of carrying the weight of the townsfolk with only Relena at her side - that the words were out of his mouth before he could fully think over what he was promising.

 

Oh, well. It's only five days. He thought to himself. What could possibly happen in five days time?

 

Still far too wired to sleep and increasingly curious of the newcomer's donno-craft, Duo covertly dodged through the hallways toward the bay areas. Once a huge room suited perfectly for machine-crafts of all sorts - from rovers to fliers to diggers and every kind between - the docking bad had been the pride of Bei Rahn. As the years passed, though, and time took its toll on the machines and the means to repair them dwindled, they fell from use and so, too, did the bays. Now they were used merely as a massive storage shed, where anything from garbage to excess clothing material or furs, or even the town's rather envious herds of livestock resided. A myriad of scents met him at the doors, which he breathed in deeply with a smile. No one smell or scent was strong enough to completely over-ride another, which left the huge room comfortably filled with a mixture of hay, candle perfumes, and animal life. It was one of Duo's places to hide, especially when there was a visiting craft to paw at and tinker with.

 

He hesitated just inside, listening carefully to try and make out any signs of life past the soft bleats of mountain sheep and the shuffling grunts of fattened pigs. A few days ago he had managed to procure three hefty cows - extremely rare creatures, considering they tended to be an easy delicacy for the dragons - and they took notice at his entrance, giving low, lazy moos, watching him warily from large, fuzzy brown eyes. Beyond them he could make out nothing out of the ordinary - no voices or signs of life peaked his attention and he relaxed. Of course the Hunters would be comfortably settled in their own rooms and well on their way to dreams; the chance of being caught was slim to none, which were just the type of odds Duo loved.

 

The craft was docked on the far side of the bay and was so large it dominated the space like some mammoth creature made of iron, mechanics, and soul. He approached cautiously, still listening out for any signs of human interference. When close enough he held his breath … and reached out to reverently place a hand against its hull.

 

The metal beneath his palm was cool and smooth, marked here or there by scrapes and dents and half-formed pieces that looked as if whatever had once been there had either been sheared away - or simply ripped off. Dragon-hunters … the faint whisper came from the back of his mind in warning, but he was far too awed by the ship before him to be distracted by such a minor detail. The craft was huge up close and was by no means attractive in the least - but in Duo's eyes it was beautiful, its worn demeanor simply breath-taking. Well-used and maintained, despite its shabbiness on the outside, any and all parts or panels that led to important docks or areas were new and strong, its more basic and vital components protected with reinforced latches. He shifted and circled it, trailing his palm along the side where he could, caressing the old ship with his gaze alone where he couldn't.

 

“Golgothan.” He murmured, staring thoughtfully at the Japanese characters scrawled beneath its name, which has been carefully stenciled on the hull with dark blue perma-paint. Interesting…

 

Taking a step back, Duo took another long glance over the whole of the ship before focusing his attention on an open hatch shoulder-height to his left. Someone had opened it to do a little routine maintenance or perhaps correct something in the sensors. Warily he took another glance around … and took hold of the hatch, leaping up and pulling himself to rest on top of it. There he crouched, critically inspecting the wires and hook-ups that were revealed. They were infinitely fascinating to him as some he could recognize but others - certain others were far too advanced or crossed in far-too foreign ways he couldn't even begin to understand. Carefully he lifted a tangled web of cords and sensors, turning it this way and that, following individual hooks with his eyes to try and locate which demo-pads they connected to and how they were marked. Whoever had done such work certainly had a good memory; hardly anything was identified and the few that were merely had a single, simple kanji or two next to it. He was just leaning forward to set the cluster of wires back down when the heavy weight of his braid shifted along his back - in a way much too subtle to have been natural. All his instincts snapped to attention and a dagger appeared in his palm, his body twisting itself to fall free and make way as he swung around, his arm whirling back in an arc to slice the air behind him. Whoever had hold of his braid was a fraction of a second quicker; it was snatched back and down, sending him tumbling from the hatch and landing on the concrete pad with a muffled thud. Without hesitation he rolled to his feet and fell back to the floor, bringing a leg around to catch his attacker behind their knees. It was a male and he was brought down - that much Duo knew, and that was all he cared about at the moment. As soon the other hit the ground he was whirling in the other direction and running. A muffled curse echoed behind him, followed quickly by the sounds of pursuit. He barely got three steps before he was snatched to a second abrupt stop, the vise-like grip closing around his braid once more. He didn't land gently this time and hadn't the first; his already bruising hip collided with concrete for the second time in less than a minute and shocks of pain rippled through the nerves up and down his leg like wild-fire, momentarily paralyzing that side. He still had his blade and attempted to bury it in the foot nearest his elbow. The blade sparked and slid of the heavy boot with a hiss of metal sheering against its like beneath black leather. Damn. Steel-toed boots. Who the fuck wears steel-toed boots anymore?

 

Dragon-hunters did, apparently. Duo tucked his hands against his chest, blade down, and rolled in the other direction - right into the hunter, who gave another muffled curse and went down again, right on top of him. Things were a tangled mass of confusion for a minute as each of them wrestled for some sort of control; in a somewhat panicked effort Duo took hold of the hunter's shirt and dove into him again, forcing the other man to fall back. He had done it to try and get some more distance between them - perhaps shove the other man far enough that he could turn-tail and run once more - but the hunter simply would not give up. He couldn't stifle a yelp as the man wrapped his braid twice around that iron fist, using it and Duo's vest as leverage to yank him along of the ride. Luckily that put Duo on top, and he had an easy remedy for such things.

 

Steely blue eyes narrowed on his own as Duo held his weight forward, pinning the man to the ground. His whole body was caught in a fine tremble - save only for his fist, pressing the sharp edge of his blade to the hunter's throat. “That's not - a very nice - thing - to do.” He panted, trying to wrestle a grin and failing in the attempt. The hunter's eyes glared mutely back as Duo tested the grip on his braid, lifting his head a little farther. It drew tight and held as the man refused to release him. “Let the hair go, man.” He put a little more pressure on the blade in warning, forcing the man's head to tilt back to prevent it slicing a clean line into his neck. A second later the long, woven thatch of hair was reluctantly released and fell to dangle between them, landing on the hunter's chest.

 

“You were messing with my ship.” The hunter accused, his spoken voice just as deep as his eyes and twice as filled with condescending anger. He didn't try to strike Duo again.

 

“I did not. I was only looking.”

 

“You touched it. You were messing with my ship.”

 

Oh, for the love of … Duo rolled his eyes and leaned back. His blade remained at the man's throat, although his grip on its hilt relaxed the barest shade. “Okay, my bad. Let's just get petty why don't we. I was messing with your ship.” The other man didn't respond, his strong body taught with leashed violence beneath Duo. His thighs were held tightly against the hunter's hips, keeping the man pinned, and the shear strength he felt beneath him was astounding. “Who the hell are you?”

 

He knew the answer, but wanted to see if the hunter would actually answer him truthfully … which he didn't. “What were you doing?”

 

“I told you, I was looking.”

 

“Looking my ass.”

 

“No, not at your ass. At your ship.”

 

Duo's lip twitched as he raised a brow. The man's glare could have withered any lesser being; unfortunately for him, Duo wasn't one to back down from confrontation, and he had been far too bored lately to let such an intriguing interchange go unnoticed. His fear and thoughts of running forgotten, Duo cocked his head to the left. “Listen, soldier. I'm going to take my pretty little friend away from your neck now. Think you can refrain from trying to hit me again?”

 

Silence greeted him. Sending a quick prayer to the heavens for safety, he leaned farther back and lifted the blade away as promised. In the blink of an eye he was on his feet and facing the man - who was standing just as suddenly, braced for an attack. Duo took the next few moments looking him over from head to toe and back again, taking in the wild, unruly thatch of deep brown hair, cobalt-shaded eyes, features hardened in wary dislike, and a body coiled and tightly bound with wiry muscle. There wasn't an ounce of fat on the man anywhere. He was dressed in dark brown slacks and a heavy leather jerkin that was worn so closely to flesh it looked as if it had been melted on. The hunter wore no decoration, save - he noticed bit awkwardly - for a machete resting at his lower back that made Duo's own blade seem like a humorous excuse for a butter knife.

 

When the man continued to stand there, those hard eyes burning into his own without so much as a hint of a waver, Duo began to get a little nervous. He shifted on his feet and briefly entertained the thought of running again, only to remember those strong hands snatching at his braid and his own ill-begotten promise to Hilde that he'd stay for five whole days. He had known he'd regret that one; he just thought he would have had a little more time to be blissfully unaware of how monumentally stupid a promise that had been. So he continued to debate, nibbling at the corner of his lip. Relena would skewer him alive - or more accurately, have Hilde skewer him alive - if he gave the new-comers a bad impression. Well, he'd already mucked that one up, might as well try to salvage what he could before either girl found out about it.

 

Duo very slowly stood up from the defensive crouch he had fallen into and put away his blade; it disappeared in a flurry of movement not even the hunter, who was watching carefully, could track. “Look, let's just forget this whole thing ever happened, okay? I'm Duo.” Before he could think better of the movement he stuck his hand out.

 

The hunter looked down at the proffered hand and back into his eyes. He didn't return the gesture. “I don't care who you are. Stay away from my ship.”

 

Geez, did this guy have a one-track mind or what? Duo scrunched his nose up cutely and grinned. “Can't promise that one, mate.” The other man scowled again at him, which for some insane reason sent a rush of heat straight down his spine. “You see,” he whispered, leaning closer as if to divulge a great and envious secret, “I'm pretty unreliable.”

 

With that he turned on his heel and fled, his braid thumping against his back, unmolested.