Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Soul Forge ❯ Battle Armor ( Chapter 5 )

Thank you to everyone who's reviewed! I appreciate the feedback.

Disclaimer: not mine.

Author's Notes: This is the fic that wouldn't end. It just goes on and on, my friend. Some baka started writing it intending a one shot. And she'll continue writing it forever 'cause she's caught...

Read this like you would a newspaper. Look FAR between the lines.

Big gaps between paragraphs are supposed to be the passage of time, as though Duo were sitting there staring at his journal for extended periods, but not actually writing anything.

Why Duo writes as if he's addressing Dr. G.: I chose to do this because, judging from the series, he doesn't talk back to the man. He may gripe, he may complain, but he always does what G says without hesitation. He mostly trusts him, yet I'm certain he still has his doubts and questions. What better place to resolve those than in a journal? Since G seems to know him better than he knows himself, it makes sense that he'd be the force to makes Duo keep one. Eliminate the problem before there is a problem.

I pictured Duo as using a datapad-type journal, but if you want to picture him writing, that works, too.

Warnings: None.

Battle Armor

AC193, 05, 16

Dr. G is making me write this. Says it'd be good for me to have something that's really my own. He seems to think that if you grow up with nothing, you'll become materialistic the second circumstances change. Yeah, sure. Okay. For so brilliant a guy, he can be pretty dim at times.

I hope I can get through the rest of today without flipping out. He really pissed me off.

Damn. What kind of a moronic idea is that? When you grow up not knowing if you're gonna wake up the next morning you really don't care how many pairs of socks ya own! And when you're living in a orphanage you learn to share what little there is pretty damn quick. I don't think keeping a stupid journal is going to undo a lifetime worth of experience! I don't need some stupid thing to make me feel "normal."

You probably just want me to write this so you can sneak a peak later. Pervert.

But that isn't fair. You're creepy, you're weird, and you're probably insane, but you are pretty damned trustworthy. Not that you're above manipulating the hell out of me when it suits your purposes, but you haven't lied to me so far. I appreciate that in a person.

What're you supposed to write in a journal anyway?

This is so pointless.

AC193, 05, 20

I want my clothes back, you bastard. If we were anywhere civilized, I'd report you to the child protection agency. This is just... wrong! I have my pride, dammit!

Okay, okay, I know where you're going with this. I know I'm gonna be in a space suit a lot of the time I'm piloting. I know I have to be comfortable in the thing. I know I have to get used to moving in it and how it pinches your joints and the miserable way it chafes your neck. I know I have to be able to get it on and off in a second. I get that. What I don't get is why it was necessary for you to confiscate my normal clothes. What, are you afraid I'll steal the suit and runaway? Where the hell would I go? On an evening stroll? You've got this ship floating around in the middle of nowhere!

I don't know why I trust you. You're sick. I hope you choke on your nose.

AC193, 05, 20

You could have told me it was easier to get used to a space suit if you're not wearing layers. Would that have been so hard? Would it have been so impossible to say, "Duo, if you wear the suit over your normal clothes it's going to be rather binding and make movements more difficult that they already are. We'll get you used to the suit itself and then let you try it over your clothes." But no! I had to find out from Pia! And she nearly laughed her ass off! Jeez. I wouldn't have been complaining if I'd known there was a reason for it! Now I feel like an idiot.

And, ah, yeah. Thanks for sending my clothes to the laundry. I'm sorry I thought you'd hidden them. Maybe I kinda deserved to feel like an idiot.

AC193, 05, 28

You're enjoying this, aren't you? I think you like to make me angry. I think you get a kick out of it. You probably laugh for hours afterwards just thinking about it. You probably get off on getting me pissed. And you do it so insufferably well. Blue ribbon for Duo-baiting is hereby awarded to the sadistic scientist with the big-ass hair! Come on down and accept your award!

Laugh all you want. I'll bet you didn't do so well the first time you shot a gun, either... although I guess you probably did better than me. You could've warned me about the kick, though. Maybe then I would've had a chance to brace myself and it wouldn't've slammed me into the wall. Serves you right if I'm too sore to train tomorrow. Who'll have the last laugh then?

AC193, 06, 14

What. Was. That. I have never seen you so angry. I thought you wanted me to do what you said. I thought you were sick of arguing with me about every little thing. I thought you'd like it if I went along with your ideas without question. Instead you smacked me in the head with your clipboard and started muttering incoherently. What did I do?!!!!

As if that wasn't bad enough, now you're throwing shit at me at all times of the day. I can't even relax when I'm in my room, anymore, without wondering if a book or a wrench or something's gonna come shooting out of nowhere. It's getting hard to concentrate. I keep wondering when you're going to strike next!! Jeez, all the guys have noticed how jumpy I am. Vern won't let me use the welder anymore 'cause he's afraid I'm gonna fry someone's hair off -especially my own.

By the way, thanks for letting me keep it. I know you wanted to give me a haircut the second you saw me. I'm glad you understand how much it means to me. It's all I have of the past, you know? I may not know who I am or where I'm from, but at least I have some proof of where I've been. Something more than memories.

But anyway, back to the projectile paraphernalia. That is so not fair! And you got me good this morning. Damn near knocked my arm off with that one. Don't worry; Dr. Pollock says the bruise you left will be gone in a few days. You're gonna have to stop smacking me with things, G. It's getting harder and harder to say those bruises are a part of my training. You know how I feel about lying... not that that's a lie, precisely, but it's definitely skirting the truth. Especially when I'm not really sure how it does fit into my training.

AC193, 07, 25

Come on, G, do I really have to start writing in this thing again? How the hell did you even figure out I'd stopped, anyway? I know you didn't read it. Made sure of that myself. I wasn't a thief for so long for nothing! I can pick every lock or break every code there is and that goes for making 'em, too! There's no way in hell you hacked this thing. If you had, I'd know it. You're good, but I'm better.... I think. I hope.

Umm. I guess I'd better start being more generous in my portrayal of you, huh? Just in case.

Screw it. If you read this, you deserve what you get.

So... what's been going on since the last time I wrote... I figured out why you were chucking stuff at me: combat training. Re-creation of a battlefield environment. Be prepared for everything, be able to function under duress, constantly be on edge, learn to ignore pain, etc. etc. Now that I know what your purpose is, it's a lot easier to dodge. I'm not all distracted with the "whys."

I'm glad I realized what you were up to before you beaned me a good one. Damn, G, when ya gonna learn? I grew up on the street. You don't have to teach me that shit! Not that I don't appreciate a little refresher course -it has been years- but that isn't the type of stuff you forget. When you gonna realize that? The past is not over and done with. It's here with us every second of the day.

I'm getting sick of the food you've got them feeding me. Not that I'm complaining, exactly. I'll eat whatever you put in front of me. But could I please have something besides high-protein foods once in a while? It's getting kind of boring. The occasional piece of chicken or bowl of cereal wouldn't be too much to ask, huh? Well, I guess the cereal is out of the question, with the ship's gravity and all, but, still. As much as I appreciate eating, a little variety is nice, too.

Speaking of food... it really bothers me the way some of the guys waste it. They're constantly taking more than they can eat and then just throwing the excess away. That's not easy to watch, you know? Can't you ship the leftovers to L2 or something? I can think of plenty of people there who wouldn't turn their nose up at an overcooked pork chop.

AC193, 08, 09

I'm really starting to miss the days when I bounced from lesson to lesson. Being with you all day gets a bit tiresome. The only time I leave your side is when I've got to eat, sleep, use the john, help Vern with repairs, or when you're making me write this. The only one of my old teachers who I see anymore is Reinhardt and he's still as big of a pain as ever. I thought he'd ended my lessons with him, anyway. When did that change?! Why does nobody tell me anything? Now I'm eating dinner with him everyday in front of the vid screens. He's always making these strange little comments and asking me if I know who I am yet while he stuffs himself full of steak and spinach. Freak.

Okay, I take that back. He's actually pretty cool when he's not throwing chess pieces all over the place. And I like talking current events with him. He makes me see how everything affects everything else. That's damned fascinating! It's like we're all connected. It does make it harder to understand the conflict between the earth and the colonies, though. Can't they see what's happening to them?!

AC193, 08, 16

Boy, G, when you said you were intensifying the lessons, you didn't joke around, huh? I've never been so tired in my entire life and that's saying a lot. dfvfrgfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff fffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff fffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff fffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff ffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvf [1]

Whoa. Dozed off for a min. Sleep now; write later.

AC193, 08, 30

I liked playing around in the propulsion chair today. That was fun! I think I did better than you expected, too, because you didn't yell at me as much as usual. Although you did get a little upset when I did a barrel roll. Hey, I have to learn to trust the harnesses, too, right?! Oh, and thanks for making me wear a helmet.

I've been thinking, G, and I realized something. This is the first time in my life when I've been positive there was going to be food on the table. It's the first time I knew there was enough water to go around. It's the first chance I've had to act like a kid and not worry about getting myself or anyone killed or hurt. It's weird. I've been responsible for myself and others for so long. Now all of a sudden you hold my fate in your hands. That's.... hard to swallow. I don't like it. No one is responsible for Duo Maxwell but Duo Maxwell, got it?!!!!!

But it's a little late to regret things now. I guess I'll just have to deal with it.

AC193, 09, 10

This journal thing is starting to grow on me. I think I understand what you're up to with this one. If I'm writing down what's bothering me and what I'm thinking about, I'm not keeping it all inside. I'm dealing with it and learning to think about emotions in a logical manner. It's getting easier not to fly off the handle when you pull some lame trick out of your ass. I'm even learning not to talk so much when I'm nervous or stressed or upset or whatever. Hey, maybe one day I won't talk at all!!!

Yeah, and one day Reinhardt will wear ruffles.

So, anyway, now that I have this journal I can write things down and think about them for a bit before I get all worked up. I like that. It's different from what I've been doing. I've been flying by the seat of my pants for so long, it's nice to be able to relax and think before acting for once. And, wow! Lo and behold! When I'm not making snap judgments I'm actually pretty laid back!

Bad thing about learning to relax is that when you get all tense again, you notice.

AC193, 09, 29

Okay, G, I think it's safe to say I've mastered the propulsion chair. Can we move onto something else now? I'm getting a little bored with hovering around in the docking berth. Have I graduated yet or what?!

I've never been this far from the moon before. It doesn't look as ugly as it did from L2. But then, everything looks ugly from there.

Except Earth.

AC193, 10, 08

I think I'm going to have to make you a list of all the things I already know how to do. That way you don't keep wasting your time trying to teach me things I figured out a long time ago. Sheesh.

Okay, here we go:

1. You do not have to teach me to read body language, facial expressions, or lips. You do not live very long on the streets unless you can tell what mood people are in and what they're talking about.

2. You do not have to teach me evasion or hiding techniques. If you cannot successfully disappear after robbing someone blind, there's not much point in trying.

3. You do not have to teach me stealth techniques. If you cannot fit into a crowd without notice, you never get close enough to someone to rob them at all.

4. You do not have to teach me to pick conventional locks or hack digital locks. I've been doing that since I can remember.

5. You do not have to teach me the element of surprise. I've always had bad timing and it's basically the same thing.

6. You do not have to teach me to manipulate people's emotions. I may choose not to, but that doesn't mean I can't. I've sweet-talked my way out of sticky situations many times before.

7. You do not have to teach me the art of disguise. I don't exactly know who I am, right now, so pretending to be someone else isn't much of a stretch.

I'm too tired to think of anything else. Rest assured that I'll inform you the next time you're being a bonehead.

AC193, 10, 14

Today was... different. I've never seen myself in a mirror before. Sure, I've seen my reflection in puddles and windows and stuff, but I never really paid attention. And while the school used to have these teeny, warped mirrors hanging over the bathroom sinks, they were as busted as the rest of the place. I never looked in the things, anyway. I mean, what was the point? What was I going to see? Bloody Mary? [2] Who cares what I look like?! How is knowing that going to change anything? It doesn't make a difference. None at all. I've gotten this far without knowing. Sure, things haven't been fun, but that's not 'cause I've never looked in a goddamn mirror. Shit happens and knowing how I look isn't going to change a thing.

But now that I have seen myself, I'm walking around thinking about how I look all the time. And that's annoying! Because I don't even care! And I can't stop wondering what other people see when they look at me! How do I know if I look good or bad?! Damn you, G! Now I'm all self-conscious!

It felt like I was looking at someone else's face. It didn't feel like I was looking at me. That's... not what I see in my mind when I think of Duo Maxwell.

I wonder what Sister Helen and Father Maxwell saw when they looked at me?

I wonder what he saw?

I didn't realize I smiled so much. I even smile when I'm mad.... I smile more when I'm mad.

I never knew my eyes were so big. I look like that startled deer that was in my ecology textbooks. Like I'm going to run at any second.

I can understand now why people used to think I was a girl. I'll admit that when I was a kid, I must've looked like one. Not anymore, though, even with all the hair. Be thankful for small favors, I guess.

I just... I didn't know I looked so.... young. Because I sure don't feel that way.

I don't think I like mirrors.

AC193, 10, 31

"A new civilization is emerging in our lives, and blind men everywhere are trying to suppress it." Reinhardt said that tonight at dinner. We were sitting in front of the vid screens, watching the news broadcasts, eating as usual. He had his steak and spinach, I had my protein-rich meal bar, he was wound up about politics, I was exhausted and half-dozing, and all was normal. Then, right in the middle of a report about Alliance negotiations, he came out with that. When he said it I just kind of grunted, but now that I've had a chance to mull it over....

People are really afraid of change, huh? They seem to think that all changes are for the worse, that they're gonna get screwed over unless things stay the same. They want things to stay exactly the way they are, but they're always rushing around trying to change things anyway. They say they're trying to make things better. To build faster shuttles. To design more efficient manufacturing plants. To create superior medical procedures. They're always trying to change themselves, to make life better for everyone, and yet they're fighting themselves every step of the way. They put restrictions on their inventions, limiting who can afford to use them. They make laws and do checks, impose rules and then fail to enforce them. They make a big deal about everything, at least until the next big concept comes along. Then all is forgotten and they move onto their new toy.

Why do people think these things matter so much? Why don't they just appreciate that they're alive? Why don't they just enjoy themselves while they can? People on Earth don't understand things at all. They live down there in their sheltered little bubble, with their ancient buildings and outdated perspectives. They've lived in comfort for so long they forget that life on the colonies isn't like that. They forget that, even though they have a warm house and plenty of food and water, not everyone does. That some people, living thousands of miles above them, go to bed at night praying the air filters don't break down and suffocate them in their sleep. They don't consider that on the colonies, life isn't guaranteed. It isn't preserved by the natural ecosystem. It's manmade and things made by men have a tendency to fall apart. They just go about their happy little lives, doing their best to wring every available resource out of the colonies above them. They don't look at the stars and see beauty. They see dollar signs. They see the next new toy.

I know not all Earth people are like that. . It just seems like all the ones who matter are.

I guess I'm tired. I didn't realize how bitter this sounded until I was done. It's funny, really, to get so worked up over one stupid comment.

But I can't laugh, not tonight, not even at myself. Tonight I can't even pretend to smile.

AC193, 11, 13

You finally introduced me to Deathscythe, today. When you let me into the cockpit... I don't know how to say it, G, but it was like I... belonged. It just felt like what we were doing was so right. Like as long as I had Deathscythe, everything was going to be okay.

I don't know if I'll ever say this out loud, but thank you.

AC193, 12, 13

It's been exactly a month since I've made any entries. I just haven't needed to. I've been sitting in Deathscythe every day, learning where the controls are and how to read the console. I've been... calm. When I'm sitting in his cockpit, it's like I'm not a part of the world. I feel like I'm almost asleep. I completely relax. Weird, that a machine designed to kill could make me feel so tranquil.

You promised me that once I learn the controls I would take Scythe out into space for more training lessons. I hope I don't have to wait too much longer. We both know I've got his control panel down pat.

And now I'm nervous. What if I can't do it? What if I can't control him? What if he gets away from me and I accidentally ruin the ship?

I couldn't live with that.

AC193, 12, 15

Piloting Scythe is a lot different from sitting in him. That makes me calm. Piloting makes me... hyper-vigilant. It's like all of a sudden there's so much more to the world. It seems bigger and freer and more open. And I'm part of it.

Even though I didn't really get to use the controls, today was amazing. Just floating around for an hour was more than enough. I don't think I could have done anything, anyway. I was too busy just breathing.

AC194, 01, 03

Every day is just more and more mind-boggling. Scythe is so graceful. He's just incredible. He moves just how I want him to. It's not even a struggle! When you let us out of the hangar and we drift out into space, I feel so... alive. I'm not Duo, the mooching street rat. I'm Duo, the Gundam pilot. The talented Gundam pilot. Even you admit that I'm good at this.

I like being good at something that matters.

AC194, 01, 11

If I wasn't in shape before, I am now. Scythe sure pilots a lot differently when he's got a weapon. His center of balance is different and he's harder to keep upright. I'm learning to go with the momentum, but it's disorienting and exhausting. Swinging that scythe around all day is a killer! My arms feel like they're made of gundam, instead of Scythe's. Heh. A scythe for Scythe. He he.

I'm going to bed.

AC194, 01, 24

If I ever hear the words "target practice" again, I'm going to shoot someone. Now that I can.

Damn. Is that one of those catch 22 things?

After spending so long training with Scythe, it was damn cruel of you to yank me back to defense training. I don't care how gravity sick I am. I'd rather be puking in Scythe than shooting guns or learning hand-to-hand combat techniques with Pia. This totally sucks.

Besides, I already know how to street fight. That's good enough for me. But, no! Pia says that while that's great for my offense, for my defense I have to know standard techniques. Then I can recognize when they're being used on me and effectively counteract them. Damn logical bitch. I don't need to be able to predict when someone's gonna kick me. I'll know soon enough! I guess it is a good idea to know pressure points and stuff, though. That might come in handy if things got a little rough.

I do definitely need more practice with the guns, though. One of the things I learned on L2 was to avoid guns like the plague. (ouch. bad pun.) The authorities would go easy on you if you weren't armed. The second your prints were found on a gun, you could kiss your ass good-bye. I never even held a gun before this, let alone shot one. So, yeah, I do need some more practice. I can usually hit what I'm aiming at, now, but I'd like a little more accuracy. I'm pretty good with the pistol, but the rifles are another story. They're pretty hard to control, especially in rapid fire mode. They jerk all over the place.

But yes, thanks to you I can now not only identify about a hundred different types of weapons, I can also correctly disassemble, clean, and reassemble the vast majority of them. I know about three different hand-to-hand fighting techniques --for both gravity and non-gravity environments-- and can build a cornucopia of explosive devices. I can rig traps, I can memorize floor plans at a glance, I can carry my own weight in equipment. I can hack into any operating system, I can read satellite images, I can interpret beta scripting. I know basic first aid, I can stitch up a wound evenly, I can apply a pressure tourniquet or a splint. I can navigate through space with nary a landmark, I can distinguish between different mobile suits and ships with a glance, I can read Morse code. I know how to thwart torture techniques, I can interpret incomplete data, I can even dress myself!!! Wow! I can I can do all this and the shit I already knew. You have taught me well. Now can I please get back to Scythe?!!

AC194, 02, 06

You told me today that soon I wouldn't have time for this journal. You said that I would be far too occupied to write in a stupid book. You called it a worthless project and regretted you had made me waste my time.

I dunno, I think you were wrong about that. I don't think this was a waste of time, at all.

I'm starting to see myself when I look in the mirror.

I don't know what we're going to be doing for the next few months or so, but I can tell you're upset about something. Your eyes have been doing that twitchy thing and you keep rubbing at your knuckles like you do when they hurt. And they only hurt when you've been staying up all night working. And if you're staying up all night working, that means something is majorly wrong. I hope you let me in on it before you wear yourself down. Let me know what the problem is. Then I can help you fix it.

That's one thing you've tried to teach me: identify the problem, consider your choices, muster your allies (whatever they may be), and then attack all opposition mercilessly. Quick, concise, to the point. At least in theory.

I dunno, G. I still wonder. What happens when there is no clear problem? What happens when your choices are gone and you can't tell your allies from your opposition? Isn't showing mercy better than killing in cold blood?

I don't know what you've got planned, G. I just hope you know what you're doing.

-Fin-

Footnotes:

[1] I actually laid my face down on the keyboard. This is what came out.

[2] A game this tortuous and scarring is sure to have survived the ages. After all, spandex did.