Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The Guild ❯ Chapter 1

"Chang Wufei," the young Chinese man said, nodding at the two in front of him and extending a hand. "Good to meet you. Names?"

"Trowa Barton." The banged boy shook hands briefly, not showing any inclination to speak further.

"Quatre Winner." The smiling blonde shook his hand enthusiastically. "So... I hear we're getting trainers today."'

Wufei nodded, looking at a clock on the wall. "In ten minutes, actually. Do you guys have any idea how old the trainers are?"

Quatre shook his head. But Trowa volunteered, "They're pilots from the elite group, they can't be that old."

"Here's hoping they're experienced, then." Wufei moved to his assigned bed, opening his duffel and putting his clothes in the small dresser next to it. "Did you two already know each other before coming here?"

Trowa answered before Quatre could. "No. I didn't meet Quatre until about half through the basic training courses."

"I guess they started sorting us by ability." Quatre flopped on one of the narrow beds.

"Reassuring, I'm sure." Wufei sighed, finishing his unpacking. "You guys want to go down now? We should get going."

Trowa nodded and rose. Quatre got up, but looked nervous. "What if... they don't like us?"

"Then that's their problem," Wufei said shortly, moving towards the door and opening it, disappearing into the hallway.

The other two followed behind, heading down to meet the trainers. All three ended up standing in front of the barracks, though they didn't have long to wait. Three pilots came into view almost immediately, moving with a predatory grace that could have been unconscious, but Trowa doubted it. He saw the way people scrambled to get out of their paths. They radiated menace and seemed to take a positive glee in it. He stiffened his already straight posture and noticed his companions doing the same.

"Chang Wufei. Trowa Barton. Quatre Winner," Zechs said clearly, looking all three of them in the eye in turn. "I'm sure you have been through the speeches, so I'll not bother to repeat them. I am Zechs Merquise."

Heero stepped forward, looking them all over, glad to see that Winner had enough respect not to grin at them. He'd been afraid of that. "Heero Yuy."

"Duo Maxwell," he drawled with a lazy smile, but his eyes were sharp as he regarded each in turn, settling on Wufei.

Trowa took the once-over in stride. Yes, they were relatively young, but he wasn't about to underestimate them. He didn't allow himself to think about which of the three was going to be his trainer, because he'd be told soon enough. He noticed Quatre's nervous tremble and briefly wondered how on earth the boy had ever made it this far in the training.

'Why is he looking at me...?' Wufei thought, returning Duo's gaze. 'I don't like him already. He'd better not be my Trainer... not that I'll say anything about it if he is.'

"Quatre Winner," Heero said, looking at Quatre steadily.

'Oh gods... not me, oh please not me. He's so, so, so forbidding.' Quatre managed to force his shaking to still. "Yes, sir?"

Heero's searing gaze sharpened further. "Look at me when I speak to you. You are about to take an irreversible step, one that will make or break your future. Your path will be full of choices, but all will be under my control, as your Trainer. The ultimate goal you will strive for is excellence as a mobile suit pilot. Are you ready and able to accept this responsibility?"

Quatre bristled at the implication that he wasn't serious about becoming a pilot, but instead met Heero's eyes and nodded. "Yes, sir, I am."

"Good. Be in the hangar at 1700 hours today." Heero gave a nod of acknowledgment, and stepped back.

Duo watched the exchange without any reaction, returning his gaze to Wufei and smiling slightly. He already guessed that his new student had taken an instant dislike to him, but that was going to be his student's problem to work through, not his. As Heero had been obliged by custom to ask Quatre, Duo asked his future student, "Chang Wufei, the life of a student is far from easy, and requires many sacrifices to reach the ultimate goal. Are you prepared to relinquish all control to me as your Trainer, trusting me to guide you?"

Wufei nodded, keeping eye contact with his new Trainer. "Yes, sir. I am fully prepared, and have been since the day I decided to become a mobile suit pilot."

Duo's smirk was the only sign that he was fighting laughter. "We'll see if you still think so after your first lesson. 1700 in the hangar for you as well."

Looking at Trowa, Zechs said smoothly, "Well, I guess there's no question as to who your Trainer will be, Trowa Barton. Are you also prepared to choose your own direction, yet give control of the results and consequences to me? Are you prepared to put your life in my hands, from today until the end of your training?"

Trowa met Zechs' eyes. "I am, sir."

"In that case, 1700 at the hangar." Zechs looked at Heero and Duo, then swept out of the room, turning sharply on his heel on his way around the corner into the hallway.

Heero nodded at all three trainees again. "That gives you an hour," he reminded them before following Zechs, Duo in his wake.

Quatre let out an explosive sigh as they disappeared. "He doesn't like me. This is going to be rougher than I thought."

"If you were expecting this to be easy, I suggest you do a lot of thinking about what you're getting yourself into before 1700," Wufei said sharply, folding his arms.

"I didn't say I thought it would be easy," Quatre snapped back, "but neither did I expect to have to deal with an instant dislike from my Trainer."

Wufei shrugged. "Who says he doesn't like you? Maybe he's just anal-retentive."

"He doesn't like me, just like you don't like your Trainer." Quatre gave Wufei one long look, then spun on his heel, heading back into the barracks.

Trowa watched him leave, then looked at Wufei. "He's a bit more perceptive than I gave him credit for."

"Seems so." Wufei sighed, looking at Trowa. "At least you're normal, or at least quiet. I don't know if I'm going to be able to deal with that one."

Trowa shrugged. "I know what you mean, but there's got to be more to him, or he wouldn't be here."

~~~

Wufei stalked towards the hangar, ignoring Trowa and Quatre shadowing him. Quatre's words had been nagging him for the past hour. 'He's right, I don't like my trainer. Damned if I know why, but I can't stand him. How could Winner know that?' Then Trowa's words had attacked in counterpoint. 'More to him? I hope so, because if there isn't more, he can call himself Thanksgiving dinner.'

The hangar was a vast cavern, with smaller segments housing the mobile suits of specific units. Khushrenda's elite group was at one extreme end, segregated from the rest. Their three Trainers waited in the entrance, Duo flicking a glance to his watch to check the time.

Arriving at the entrance before the other two students, Wufei stopped in front of the Trainers, saluting to each in turn, saving Maxwell for last.

'So, he wants to play games? That's fine with me.' The faint gleam of amusement in his eyes acknowledged Wufei's subtle insubordination. He pushed himself off the wall and turned into the hangar, directing his command over his shoulder, as if Wufei weren't worth actually looking at. "Chang, come with me."

'Chang?!' Casting a backward glance at Quatre and Trowa, who were greeting and saluting their Trainers as was custom, Wufei grudgingly followed, keeping his posture and face neutral.

They had almost reached the feet of a predominately black Gundam, when Duo whipped around and caught Wufei by the throat, bringing him to his knees at Deathscythe's feet, barely able to breathe. Meeting Wufei's eyes, Duo spoke in a low, faintly menacing voice. "First lesson, Chang Wufei. I am the master here. You willingly submitted, now it's your duty to live up to that promise, or you find yourself another profession. Do you understand me?"

Wufei glared back for a moment, struggling against the hold on his throat, then relaxed and nodded, never breaking eye contact. "Yes, sir."

Duo held his throat and his gaze for another moment before releasing his grip. "Make me believe you, Wufei." His voice had dropped, soft and compelling.

"How should I do that, sir?" Wufei stood up, rubbing a hand soothingly over the red mark on his neck.

"Be frighteningly obedient." Duo looked faintly bored, and brushed invisible lint off his black sleeve. "Or else I'm sure I can find you something unpleasant to adjust your attitude." Steel reentered his tone with the last, making it clear that wasn't a vague threat, but a promise.

Wufei nodded, not cowed by the threat but not stupid enough to brush it off. "Yes sir."

Duo smiled with menace. "I'm going to enjoy convincing you." He flicked a glance at their audience, noting the shocked expressions on the other two students' faces. Good, the lesson had more of an effect on them than its object, but Wufei was going to require quite a bit more before he fell in line.

Zechs folded his arms, casting a quick glance at Trowa before catching Duo's gaze, sending a look of approval.

Heero walked over to stand next to Duo, leaning over to whisper in his ear, "You've got a lot of work to do on that one. At least mine's already scared."

Duo nodded, in response to both Zechs' approval and Heero's words, then focused on Wufei again. He motioned to the Gundam. "This is my mobile suit, Deathscythe, otherwise known as Shinigami. It is a Gundam, top of the line, a perfect weapon meant to wielded by a perfect pilot. In absence of that, someone like you, once I'm done with you."

Wufei looked up at the Gundam, noticing it for the first time. His fists clenched at Duo's last words, but he said nothing.

"For the time being, the closest you're going to get to piloting a Gundam is a simulator. But take a good look at the ultimate goal. If you actually finish training," Duo's voice turned wry, before he looked at Deathscythe and his voice showed his fierce, possessive joy of his suit, "a beauty like this will be yours."

"Controlling me is one thing, but condescending me is QUITE another," Wufei snapped, eyes narrowing. "I don't believe I heard anything about that in the job description."

Duo's eyes narrowed, and the distinctly predatory smile promised that he was keeping track of every infraction, and that it was all adding up. "Everything falls under the job description, Wufei. The sooner you realize that, the better off you'll be."

Wufei fell quiet under the smile more than the words, and nodded, returning his attention to his careful observation and scrutiny of the Gundam. "Yes sir."

Seeing the conversation heading downhill on a crash course with disaster, Zechs broke in. "Your first test will be in the simulators." He pointed to three identical pieces of machinery, doors open in each. "Chang Wufei, go to the one on the left. Quatre Winner, the middle. Trowa, you're on the right."

Quatre obeyed instantly. Trowa noted the way his Trainer referred to him, but gave no reaction except to head over to the designated simulator. There was no point in pushing boundaries like Wufei was, the incident had made that clear to him, even if Wufei hadn't caught the lesson.

Duo waited until Wufei had turned and entered the simulator with the other students before mouthing 'thank you' to Zechs. He didn't want to deal with Wufei harshly, but it didn't look like there was going to be a way out of it. His mind flashed back through some of his own subtle rebellions against Treize, and shied away from the public punishment that had brought them to an end. Lord, he hoped Wufei didn't push him that far.

As soon as the doors to the simulators were closed, Heero put an arm around Duo's shoulder, kissing him on the cheek. "Don't worry about it," he said quietly. "I'm sure he'll understand soon enough."

Duo leaned into Heero's strength, even as he answered unhappily, "Yeah."

"All systems on!" Zechs warned the students inside, pressing a few buttons and turning on the monitors. "We can watch how they're doing from here," Zechs said to Heero and Duo. "They're in simulators of our respective suits. I hope Barton's up to Epyon."

"He'll acquit himself admirably, I'm sure." Duo looked up to the screen showing Wufei. "I don't know if I should wish Wufei well or not."

Heero sighed. "Wish him well, so you don't have to cross any lines you don't want to cross." Looking at the monitor, he swore softly. "Winner isn't taking well to Wing."

Duo chuckled faintly. "I don't think anyone would handle Wing as well as you." He looked at the monitor. "Least Wufei's doing well. I half expected him to exploit all of Deathscythe's abilities just to spite me."

"So did I, actually. How's Trowa doing?" Heero directed his question to Zechs.

"Fairly well, though I think Epyon's intimidating him a little. He'll be damned if he shows it though. This one's promising," Zechs replied, keeping a steady gaze on Trowa's monitor, showing an impassive face with a slight sween of sweat.

"Indimidated by the demon suit? Nah, couldn't be." Duo chuckled as the simulations came to a sudden close, stats rolling down the screen. He reached over to trigger the control to open the doors.

Within the simulator, Quatre fought to keep his face from showing his frustration. He knew he hadn't done as well as he should, but it seemed like everything he tried had been fought by the mobile suit. Every time he tried to adjust to the suit's style, something else would go wrong. He could do better than this, he knew it. As the door opened, he reluctantly climbed out. He really didn't want to face Heero after that performance.

Wufei was happy. Deathscythe had proved to be a quality suit, as Maxwell had said. He had been able to control and use its abilities skillfully. Stepping out of the simulator as the door opened, he hoped he'd shown Maxwell that he knew a thing or two.

Trowa knew he had performed to standard, if not excelled. He glanced at Zechs, but wasn't unduly worried about his reception there.

Heero looked at Quatre disapprovingly. "Was that the highest of your capabilities?" he asked, walking up to stand in front of the blonde.

"No, sir." Quatre stared at the floor at Heero's feet in embarrassment.

"Did I ask the question, or did my shoes?" Heero snapped.

Quatre flushed and looked up at Heero's face. "I'm sorry, sir."

"I'm sorry, sir," Heero mimicked. "Don't take that attitude, or you'll get nowhere. You can't be sorry for what you do, or you'll be sorry for the rest of your training."

If possible, Quatre flushed more, but didn't respond. He had a feeling that whatever he said would be wrong. Was nothing ever going to go right for him?

"You're unconfident of your abilities. How long will that last before I see the real pilot in you? If you want to play dumb, then I'll treat you as if you're dumb. Do you want that?" Heero cast a glance at Duo, who was watching silently next to Zechs.

Quatre couldn't help it. He wasn't being this way deliberately. "I'm not playing dumb! I kept trying to adjust to the suit, but it didn't work. It seemed like nothing I tried worked!"

"Really?" Heero asked, pressing his lips together. "Maybe there's a problem. What exactly wouldn't adjust?"

"Everything, it was as if the suit was fighting me. When I thought I had a hold on the limits, they'd shift and change." Quatre's frustration was clear.

Heero sighed. "Inadequate training. Not your fault, I hope. We'll have to test you in a regular mobile suit to compare the test results before I jump to any conclusions about your performance in Wing."

Looking over the shoulder of the nodding Quatre, Duo threw a faint, approving smile to Heero.

Wufei noticed the smile with confusion. He'd learned enough so far, though, to not say anything about it. But it definitely made him wonder. An eyebrow raised in spite of itself.

Duo caught the eyebrow but didn't say anything. It wasn't any of Wufei's business, and he wasn't going to acknowledge it.

"What's wrong, Chang? Do you have something in your eye?" Zechs said dryly, not really expecting a response. He didn't get one. Zechs turned to Trowa. "Adequate performance. You need work, of course, but I'm pleased with your current skills."

"Thank you, sir." Trowa nodded, though he didn't allow himself to look pleased.

Duo caught Zechs' eye and managed to convey his amusement in a brief glance.

A loud alarm-like sound filled the hangar. The three students looked at the Trainers in confusion. Heero smiled slightly and explained, "That means dinner. Dismissed. Meet back here at 2100, all of you."

~End Part 1~

*whimpers