Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Victoria Base Affair Extended Edition ❯ Fallen Hero ( Chapter 12 )

Warning: This chapter contains strong sexual content.

-o-o-o-

Chapter 12: Fallen Hero

The Specials were in disarray. The unexpected death of General Catalonia had left them looking for someone to lead them; someone in whom to put their faith and trust; someone like Treize. But Treize was as lost and as devastated as anyone. Although he had been privy to much of the general's thoughts and plans, Treize still felt like a child trying to step into a man's shoes. The aftermath of the Battle of Pancevo was grim. Alliance losses had been heavy, in both personnel and equipment, and there was no telling how much damage had been inflicted on the insurgents. No one was certain how many forces and how well equipped the rebels had been to begin with. That infuriated Treize. What use was an Intelligence organization if they didn't know that? Treize would not fall prey to that mistake again. He was already making plans to create his own Intelligence unit as part of Oz. He'd discussed it once with General Catalonia and had received tacit permission to proceed. Now he forged ahead with single-minded purpose. He would never again be caught without adequate knowledge of what the rebels, insurgents and guerillas, both on and off Earth, were doing. The Alliance, and particularly Oz, had already paid too high a price for that failure.

And Treize was certain, as certain as he was that the sun would rise in the morning, that Pancevo had nearly been lost because of treason; that the general had died because of treason. Someone in the Pancevo command had betrayed them.

“Colonel Kushranada?”

Treize broke out of his reverie and looked up to find a young Lieutenant standing before him at stark attention. Treize was sitting in General Catalonia's office, slumped in the comfortable, high-backed chair that the general had taken with him to every command he'd held for the past fifteen years. Treize sat up and folded his hands neatly on the desk.

“What is it, Lieutenant?”

“The officers are waiting for you in the conference room, Sir.”

“Thank you. Please tell them I'll be there shortly.”

“Sir!” The young officer saluted smartly and left, closing the door behind him.

Treize stared at the closed door thoughtfully. After the battle, Treize had been promoted to Colonel and placed in charge of the remaining forces at Pancevo until a new commander could be appointed. His express commission was to clean up the mess left behind by the battle and restore the base to some semblance of order. Treize intended to accomplish that, but he had his own agenda as well. He did not intend to leave Pancevo until he knew who was behind the treachery that had resulted in the general's death.

He tapped his fingers on the desk as he thought about what he would say at the briefing. All the remaining officers at Pancevo, as well as his own staff, would be in attendance. Treize planned to tell them there was a traitor and see how they reacted. He had gone through everything in the general's desk, files and computer, but had found nothing incriminating. The only thing that had struck him as odd was what he did not find. He had found almost no significant intelligence reports on rebel activity in the Pancevo region. There should have been something, unless those reports were being purposely withheld to give the general the false impression that there was little unrest in the region. Very few people would have been in a position to do that and it was on these people that Treize's suspicions now fell. And all of them were now waiting for him in the conference room. He intended to get satisfaction and avenge the general's death.

The twelve surviving Pancevo officers were silent when Treize entered. His own people, Cole, Une, Zechs and Dmitri, had been talking quietly among themselves, but they stopped and nodded to him as he sat down at the head of the table.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Treize began, “the one thing I want to know is why General Catalonia was unaware that a large, well-armed rebel force was operating in this area. Who was responsible for providing him with intelligence reports on rebel activity?”

“I was, Colonel,” said a dark-haired woman. Treize remembered her from his brief sojourn at Pancevo months before; Commander Lindsey Wayne. She looked worried, almost frightened. That spoke well for her intelligence; she must realize that she was under suspicion. “I reviewed every report before passing it to the general. We received regular reports about rebels in our area, but it was mostly about small, poorly armed groups operating in the southeast. I would usually consolidate these into a single report and group the information by sub-region to look for patterns.”

“I see. Were you also handling intelligence reports for General Brigham before he was relieved of command at Pancevo?”

“No sir. Commander Curzon held that post. He was reassigned when General Brigham left.”

“Curzon?” Treize exclaimed. “Dalken Curzon?”

“Yes.”

Treize's eyes narrowed. “How long was he here?”

“He came straight from the Victoria Base Academy, so about three years. He became Intelligence Officer about a year before the trouble started.”

“Do you know where he was reassigned?”

“I believe he went to European Command.”

Treize sat back. Suddenly, things made sense in a way he hadn't expected. Out of all the thefts, losses and battles they'd been through, the one thing that had never fit had been the attack on Zechs and Sheldon. Too many guerillas had been lost attempting to kill two men. Treize looked at Zechs. Or maybe just one man. Maybe Zechs didn't remember Dalken Curzon. Why should he? But Treize remembered him. And he didn't doubt for one moment that Curzon remembered Zechs.

“Thank you, Commander Wayne,” he said abruptly. “That will be all. I've arranged for General Catalonia's remains to be returned to his family. There will be a service for him tonight in the Base chapel for anyone who cares to attend.” Treize stood up, ending the meeting, and the others all rose. He glanced at his people so they would know he wanted them to stay and waited for the Pancevo officers to file out. When the door closed behind the last of them, Treize leaned forward and spoke quietly.

“European Command has not issued a definitive report about the Pancevo region for months. Now we find that Dalken Curzon, one of Brigham's staff officers, has been assigned there. Although none of Brigham's officers was found to be complicit in the problems that got him transferred, I always believed that someone was feeding the insurgents inside information. And who better than his own Intelligence Officer?”

“But why would he do such a thing?” Une asked. “He was one of the top graduates of the Academy. He's been rising rapidly through the ranks. He could hold any post he wants.”

“Could he?” Treize nodded at Zechs. “Zechs cost him a posting at Luxembourg that prevented him from being placed in charge of a unit. That's why he was at Pancevo in the first place. Intelligence is an important role in the Alliance Military, but it doesn't get you the kind of visibility that leads to important assignments. What if he's been carrying a grudge all this time? What other reason could there have been for the attack that killed Sheldon, except that Dalken saw an opportunity to kill the man who humiliated him three years ago?”

Une's eyes narrowed as she considered this.

Cole rubbed a hand across his chin and nodded in agreement. “You may be right, Treize, but what are we going to do about it?”

“Recommend that all the officers at Pancevo be reassigned.”

“Why?” Une asked. “Do you think others are involved?”

“No, I don't. But that will make Curzon think he's gotten away with it.” Treize's face darkened with anger. “And I don't want him to see me coming.”

-o-o-o-o-o-

Treize took decisive command of Pancevo Base. He kept the Pancevo officers on staff only until he had established a new routine of patrols and had gotten the reconstruction started. Then he sent those officers he had come to trust, including Lindsey Wayne, to fill vacancies at Luxembourg, which was for the moment still under his command, and had the rest reassigned elsewhere. He brought a few officers down from Luxembourg to replace them and picked up the rest of the staff officers he required from the graduating class at the Victoria Base Academy.

Zechs spent much of his time on patrol in his Aries mobile suit during the long period of reconstruction. He would have liked to spend time with Treize also, but Treize was just too busy. Creating an integrated fighting force from scratch was no simple task, but Zechs knew Treize could do it. Many of the recent Academy graduates who had come to Pancevo displayed a personal loyalty to Treize which Zechs found perfectly understandable and looked to be good candidates for joining the Specials and Oz. Treize used the opportunity presented by the rebuilding effort to reorganize the Specials to more directly align and integrate the Oz forces. While General Catalonia had tried to keep Oz more or less a secret from the Alliance, Treize did not. He quite openly stated that the purpose of the organization was to streamline intelligence channels and set up a quick response team so a fiasco like Pancevo would not happen again.

There was some protest from a few senior officers in the Alliance who felt too much power was being concentrated into Treize's hands, but it was difficult to argue against the validity of his goals. No one wanted to see another disastrous battle like Pancevo. So Treize operated with essentially a free hand in establishing Oz as an integral component of the Alliance Military, with himself as its sole commander.

But it left Zechs with the feeling that he was losing Treize to forces beyond his control. From the very beginning, he had known that he would not be able to keep Treize forever, but the end was coming much sooner than he'd expected. Too soon, he would be left to the lonely existence he'd known before he met Treize; pretending to enjoy life when it held little joy for him at all. A man could not live without roots. It left him subject to the winds of fate and Zechs could feel it blowing on him again. A deep sadness welled up in him whenever he thought about it.

So he tried not to think about it and kept himself focused on his duties. He flew patrols four days out of seven and spent the other three training new pilots in the Aries mobile suits. Treize had managed to get his hands on another twenty suits and he wanted them integrated into the daily patrols as soon as possible. As the best pilot on the base, Zechs had immediately assumed that duty, even though it left him with no free time. In fact, Zechs couldn't remember the last time he'd had a day off, but Treize didn't take any time off, so Zechs didn't see any reason to either. What was the point if he couldn't spend the time with Treize?

The new pilots were training in an empty field on the south side of the river opposite the base. Zechs had personally cleared the area the day after the battle. He had flushed and destroyed three rebel groups from hidden bunkers well inside the base's perimeter. Then he and Cole, using flamethrowers, had cleared all the vegetation from the riverbank to the gaping craters were the bombers had destroyed the rebel mortar emplacements during the battle, leaving a scorched empty wasteland ten kilometers wide and nearly fifteen kilometers deep. It was perfect for live fire training with the Aries mobile suits. Zechs figured if anyone blundered into the area and was killed during the exercises, it was their own fault. His sympathy for the locals had diminished considerably.

Now he sat in his mobile suit on the north side of the river watching his pilots engage a convoy of disabled trucks he'd placed in the field earlier that day. This group had been training together the longest and was doing pretty well, so Zechs recorded the exercise without really watching it and was therefore caught by surprise when one of the pilots suddenly cursed.

“What's wrong?” Zechs demanded immediately.

“I think I just blew up a cow.”

“A what?”

“A cow. A black and white cow.”

“Yup, he did,” someone else confirmed rather cheerfully. “I can see the head and bits of the carcass.”

“Whoa! That's a lot of blood!” said another pilot. “What a mess.”

“How close was the cow to the convoy?” Zechs asked, trying to maintain a professional tone.”

“It was right next to it,” the guilty pilot said. “Maybe five meters away.”

“Then it was inside the kill zone. Good hit.”

“Uh, ok.”

“Come on in, all of you.”

The pilots broke off the attack and flew toward him in formation. Zechs smiled to himself. They remembered procedure, despite the surprise ending to their exercise. He lifted off and fell into their formation, flying with the team back to the recently repaired and refinished tarmac. When the pilots were assembled on the ground outside their suits, Zechs patted the hapless cow-killer on the shoulder.

“Don't let it bother you, Claude. I would be upset if you missed the shot because you worried about killing a cow.”

“But the civilians around here are pretty poor…”

“Not our problem,” Zechs said, a little harshly. “We're fighting a war and those civilians are just two steps away from being rebels. They should keep their animals penned up. Let's go review the recording. I saw a few things during the attack which I think you could have done better.”

The pilots followed him across the tarmac, teasing Claude good-naturedly along the way. Claude took the ribbing with good humor, which pleased Zechs. This team was forming into a tight, cohesive unit. They worked well together and they shared a strong bond. Treize had already recruited them for the Specials.

A soldier sprinted toward them, saluting as he skidded to a halt in front of Zechs. “Lieutenant Merquise! Colonel Kushranada wants to see you right away.”

“Very well.” Zechs stopped and turned to his pilots. “I already downloaded the recording of your exercise into the base computer. Please review the recording and write a report detailing any mistakes you observe in your performance. I'll go over it with you later.”

“Yes sir!” They saluted sharply and continued on toward the recreation hall. As one of the few undamaged buildings on the base, many of the base services were operating there during the reconstruction. Zechs had usurped a room and converted it to a classroom for his pilot-trainees.

Zechs headed for the Administration building. It was hot again and he was sweating by the time he arrived. The air conditioning still wasn't working and he wiped his face with the inside of his sleeve, wishing he could take a shower. Not too surprisingly, the halls were nearly deserted as he marched through the building and up the two flights to Treize's office. No one wanted to move around much in this heat.

The young soldier on duty outside Treize's office was visibly drooping in the heat, but she popped up from behind her small desk and saluted Zechs before stepping quickly over to knock on the door. “The Colonel is expecting you, Lieutenant.” She opened the door to admit him and Zechs stepped inside.

It was not any cooler in the office, despite an open window. Treize didn't look happy, but he usually didn't these days. Zechs came to attention. “You wanted to see me, Sir?”

The soldier closed the door as Treize waved Zechs toward the chair opposite his desk. His sudden smile wiped the exhaustion from his face. “I always want to see you, Zechs,” he answered. “I need to go up to Luxembourg for a few days and I want you to go with me.”

Zechs lifted an eyebrow. “As an escort?”

“You could call it that.” Treize's smile became affectionate. “The truth is, I'm desperate to take you to bed, but I don't want to do it here.”

“Ah.”

“We leave tomorrow morning. We'll go in the carrier, so we can take our Aries suits. We'll also be bringing back some work crews when we return.”

“Aye sir.” Zechs stood up. “If you don't mind, I'm dying for a shower.”

“Take one for me. This place is an oven.” Treize favored him with another affectionate smile as he left.

-o-o-o-o-o-

It felt good to be back in Luxembourg. It was cooler, for one thing. It also felt more like home. Zechs returned to his own quarters when they arrived, but he didn't stay there long. He was in Treize's room by 2200, undressing him with eager hands. Treize kept trying to talk, but Zechs wasn't listening. He ached with desire and unfulfilled need. He pushed Treize against the wall and pulled his shirt open, kissing his bare chest hungrily. He worked his way across the firm, smooth skin to the left nipple and closed his lips around it, sucking hard.

“Have you heard a thing I've said, Zechs?”

“Hmmm?” It was hard to talk and suck at the same time, so Zechs elected to suck.

“Apparently not,” Treize murmured. He caught Zechs' face in his hands and lifted it so he could look into Zechs' eyes. “My love, I am going to have to do something terrible. I may need you to lie for me.”

Zechs blinked. “I'll lie for you, Treize. I'll also lie with you; I'll lie under you; I'll lie on top of you. Now, can we stop talking?” He dropped to his knees and began undoing Treize's trousers.

“Zechs…” Treize began, but he stopped with a helpless moan as Zechs pulled his cock out.

Zechs slid it into his mouth, closing his eyes so he could experience the tactile pleasure of touching Treize with a minimum of distraction. Treize slumped against the wall with a groan, his hands tangling in Zechs long hair.

“Zechs!” Treize gasped. “We really do need to talk about this! Ah!” His groans got louder as Zechs continued to work diligently on him. “Oh lord, I missed you! Maybe we can talk later...”

Zechs thought that was the better idea and he did his best to get all thoughts of work out of Treize's mind. He kept at it until Treize came hard with a cry of joy. Zechs held him until Treize's shivers of orgasm faded and then he sat back on his heels with a smile.

“And you call me wet.”

Treize pulled Zechs to his feet and kissed him deeply.

Zechs pushed away, laughing. “Do you want to talk now?”

“Shut up,” Treize growled. He dragged Zechs to the bed and shoved him down onto it. “Get out of your clothes right now, lie down and spread your legs.”

“Yes sir!” Zechs chuckled as he undressed. Treize was tearing off his own clothes as if he had not just been satisfied. In fact, to look at the upright, hardened state of his cock, one would think he hadn't been. Zechs lay back and Treize mounted him immediately. Zechs gasped. As always, Treize felt utterly wonderful inside him. He wrapped his arms around Treize and moved with him as Treize rode him.

Treize put his lips next to Zechs' ear and whispered, “I wish I could spend the rest of my life doing this with you.”

“Tonight is all that matters,” Zechs whispered back. “Don't think about tomorrow.” He kissed Treize's neck and shoulder, moaning softly as pleasure suffused him. Treize moved faster and faster, grunting with the effort of driving himself deep into Zechs. Zechs arched up against him, gasping with joy, his body shaking with impending orgasm. “Don't stop!” he groaned. “Please don't stop!” Treize didn't stop. He kept thrusting into Zechs until Zechs exploded with orgasm. “Oh, god!” he gasped.

Treize uttered a deep groan as orgasm surged through him, triggered by the vice-like grip of Zechs' clenched muscles. When he finished, he looked into Zechs' blue eyes. “I love you,” he whispered.

Zechs gazed back at him, letting the sight fix itself in his memory. This was his favorite moment in time: lying beneath Treize in the first sweet moments of post-coital bliss. Slowly, he lifted his mouth to Treize's and gave him a long, gentle kiss. “I love you, too, Treize Kushranada.”