Mobile Suit Gundam 00 Fan Fiction ❯ Fata Morgana ❯ chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

Fata Morgana- Chapter 2

 

 

 

 

Allelujah stepped out of the lift and into the large hanger bay, fastidiously ignoring the ambient noise of the repair crews hard at work. His body found its way back here by itself with little input from his conscious mind. Arios loomed in the distance and he wanted sanctuary. Just the sight of his Gundam was enough to make him feel somewhat relieved. At least until Ian stepped in front of him and blocked him from the catwalk.

 

“Sorry, Allelujah. I can't let you go there,” the older man stated. “Sumeragi's orders.”

 

Allelujah's eyes widened. “Why?” was all he could get his mouth to say.

 

Ian rubbed the back of his neck and looked around nervously. “I was told you've been grounded. That means Arios is off limits until you get reinstated.”

 

“But I don't want to do anything or even run diagnostics.” It was hard to hide his disbelief. Did they really think he was so unstable that he might steal Arios and run off somewhere? “I just want to…I…please, I need to…”

 

Just sit inside. It sounded so silly and childish inside his head. Maybe that was why he couldn't voice it, but the “please” caused Ian's face to relax a bit.

 

“Look, I'm sorry, but I have my orders,” he told Allelujah gently. Over Ian's shoulder he could see Saji watching the two of them with a worried expression.

 

Apparently the word about him had spread quickly and they were on the lookout for another violent episode. Just how long was he unconscious anyway? “Al-alright, I understand,” he replied quietly and turned to walk away towards the small ready-room just off the main hanger. He could stay there for a while before heading back down to the crew quarters. It would buy him some more time before he had to confront Marie.

 

Once inside the narrow room, he plopped down onto the bench. He didn't bother turning on any of the lights, content to sit in the near-dark with the soft glow from the computer console across from him. Undoing the wrist cuff on his flight suit, he pulled back the sleeve to reveal his watch. Nearly three hours had passed since he returned from the mission. Marie must be worried about him by now. What was he going to say to her?

 

Resting his elbows on his knees, he buried his face in his hands. She was going to know something is up as soon as she saw him if she hadn't felt it through the link already. He was just going to have to lay it all out for her. There was no other way. If he tried to spare her feelings, she would see right through him in an instant. Allelujah felt his chest tighten. She was going to be so upset by this. He promised that he would shield her from such unpleasantness and here he was about to declare that their love for each other might not be real. If that wasn't the most hurtful thing he could do to her, he didn't know what was.

 

It didn't change the fact that he still wanted to hide from her a bit longer. He was never good at confrontation of the face-to-face variety. It was one thing to have the anonymity of a Gundam cockpit and another to have to watch the dance of emotions across someone's face and know that you were the cause of it. Had he always been such a coward?

 

Allelujah looked down at the data stick nestled in his uncurled fist and sighed. Perhaps it was better if he looked over all the information before dropping this bomb in Marie's lap. He stood and walked over to the console. The large display came to life with dozens upon dozens of file screens when he inserted the stick. There were pictures, analysis charts, statistics, as well as hundreds of pages of what looked like journal entries. The sheer amount of it all was astounding. But it wasn't all of the testing and experiments that interested him. He relived those atrocities nightly. No, he wanted to go back to the beginning, where he came from.

 

It was true that his earliest memories were of the HRL orphanage he was kept in until being shipped off to the Super Solider Institute on Quiaqui, but sometimes, when he was quiet and calm, he remembered someplace else. The edges of that memory were as tattered as a frayed sweater and would scatter like dandelion seeds in a gust of wind if he tried to linger too long. Sunlight reflected off a red, travertine tile floor. That brief glimpse of something was enough to always leave him wondering.

 

The handlers at the orphanage as well as the overseers at the Institute constantly told them that they were the unwanted leftovers of society whose parents had, either by death or by design, left them to the HRL to use them how they saw fit. Allelujah had often wondered what happened to the children that were either too old or did not possess the genetic and personality traits the Institute had been looking for. After he learned of the disposal units for the “failed” experiments, he stopped. Sometimes it was better to not let your mind wander into some places, especially when the reality was just as bad.

 

Allelujah scrolled through all the pages until he came across what appeared to be his original processing papers. Attached to the information were a few pictures of him. Standard back, front, and profile shots. He couldn't have been more than five years old. It was the first time he had ever seen pictures of himself at such a young age. An innocent, completely bewildered face stared back at him. Both of his eyes were blue-grey. Allelujah could not recall a time when he had looked at his reflection and not seen one gold iris staring back at him. Just how old was he when they performed the surgery? He couldn't remember. His time in the HRL Super Solider Facility had blurred together into one mish-mosh of events.

 

Scanning down on the page was a nondescript notation of his transfer from an orphanage in Yakutsk. It was a fairly large city in the mostly old Russian sector, but had seen a larger Asian population rise in the many years after the HRL's formation. Allelujah knew he had to be of mixed race, what with his olive complexion and almond-shaped eyes, and this basically confirmed that. It wasn't much, but it was a place he could start his search. Scrolling down further on the page, his eye was drawn to the line:

 

PARENTS: Classified.

 

Not deceased, not unknown—classified. If this was already a classified document, then why was that information classified even further? Allelujah didn't get the opportunity to ponder that gravity of that notion any further when the sudden hiss of the ready-room door opening jarred him out of this thoughts. He quickly yanked the data stick out of the console before spinning around to greet the intruder.

 

“Oh, sorry, I didn't think anyone was in here,” Lyle Dylandy said. He was silhouetted against the light from the corridor.

 

Allelujah knew it was a lie. In the months since his rescue he had quickly learned that even though they shared the same face, this man was not the Lockon Stratus he'd known for years. And in getting to know this new person, he quickly came to realize that nothing Lyle did was by accident or happenstance. There was always something quietly calculating about the other man that made Allelujah uneasy.

 

He clutched the data stick tightly in his hand. “It's okay. I was just leaving,” he told the older man and moved to push past him to exit the room.

 

Lyle turned to watch him leave, but didn't say anything though Allelujah suspected that he wanted to. If the maintenance crew knew of his grounded status, it was a safe bet that Lyle knew as well. And given the fact that it was his fault that Cheridum had taken quite the beating, he was sure that there was going to be a confrontation sooner or later and he very much wanted the latter right at this moment.

 

Allelujah strode briskly down the corridor fighting the urge to look back to see if Lyle was still watching him. The intrusion left him with no other options other than returning to his quarters and speaking with Marie. He took a deep breath to try and calm his nerves before opening the door.

 

Marie was seated on the bed, their bed, cross-legged with her laptop nestled in the crook of her legs. She looked up and smiled when he entered. He did his best to return it, but inside, he felt his heart sink. To her credit, she didn't say anything to him and allowed him to change out of his flight suit and back into his uniform. He could feel her eyes on his back the entire time. When he finally turned around to face her, she had a puzzled expression on her face.

 

“What's wrong?” she asked, tucking a strand of long silver-white hair behind her ear.

 

Allelujah opened his mouth, but quickly closed it. He had no idea where to begin.

 

TBC…

 

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Sorry for the long wait everyone. I've come to the conclusion that this story may be slightly longer than I originally planned and have opted to try shorter chapters in the hopes that I might get them out faster. Feedback is always appreciated, but never demanded.