Title: Two Roads Diverged

Part 9/?

Author: Truth

Archive: A whole bunch of neat places but my complete Gundam Wing fic

collection can be found at GW Addiction

www.geocities.com/fenris_wolf0/

AU - The sequel to It's the Pilot - Wherein we see the Gundam Wing

Universe as it might have been had Duo been sidetracked just before

Noventa's death. First person stream of consciousness/POV.

Shading into an R rating. Shounen ai.

Warning: Take almost everything you thought you knew about GW and stuff

it out the nearest airlock. Hang onto your laser rifles kiddies. From

here on out, it's foreign territory.

Multiple perspective switches once again. As usual, if any of them are

unclear, please mail me at dhaunea@yahoo.com and I'll tell you who they

are.

I do not own Gundam Wing or any of it's characters. Chang Chen, Lian

Saiming and Lingwei all do belong to me, however.

My deep gratitude goes to my beta/editor Bronze Tigress for her hard

work and dedication as shown by her repeatedly slogging through this

piece on my behalf.

**

Two Roads Diverged

Part 9

**

Wufei retreated to his room, leaving me alone with Chen and his luggage.

From the set look on our new roommate's face, I figured that the Wu-guy

had spilled his guts. Which royally sucked. I made a mental reminder

to bitch at him later. Just because he wasn't speaking to _me_ doesn't

mean that I can't shout at _him_.

Chen dropped his bags, helped himself to a chair and stared at me. "What

the hell has been going on?"

"Beyond our little song and dance with the OZ elite?" I remained

standing, wanting to have the extra range of movement if he decided to

kick my ass. I had no idea what Wu had told him, and I didn't want to

give myself away if I didn't have to.

"Don't play games with me, Maxwell." He gave me a nasty look, strongly

reminiscent of Wu at his worst. "Wufei told me all about Treize

Kushrenada. I want to know why he allowed himself to be defeated so

easily. I want you to tell me what has gone wrong between the two of

you."

Oh, this was bad. I didn't want to be the one to break the news to Chen

that his cousin was borderline suicidal. I definitely didn't want to

tell him that I had taken advantage of Wu while he was still shaking

like a leaf. I knew enough about the Chang family and their various

scions to know that if Chen decided to get really pissed at me, I would

be in a _world_ of hurt.

I'd terrorized him when I'd been Cadet Lt. Maxwell, but he knew who and

what I was now. He knew that I wouldn't hurt him unless he tried to

kill me. And that gave him a _huge_ advantage. One that he wasn't

afraid to use, obviously. "Um, it's sort of a complicated story,

actually."

If they'd tried to replace me with Chen, they might actually have gotten

away with it. Well, assuming they'd managed to get him to cooperate in

the first place, that is....

"You're stalling." His eyes narrowed accusingly. "What have you done,

Maxwell?"

I shrugged unhappily. I'd give him the truth, as far as it went. I had

no real choice. If he was going to risk his life to help our mission

there was no way that I _couldn't_ tell him what was had happened. Of

course, that didn't mean that I was going to answer that last question,

not if there was any possible way to avoid it, that is.

"He asked Kushrenada to kill him. He still thinks that he's responsible

for the Noventa fuck-up, and it's eating away at him from the inside. I

overreacted when I found out what really happened, and he hasn't spoken

to me since."

"He did what?" Chen's voice was even, but his hands had clenched

tightly on the arms of the chair.

"He went into the fight angry. I think that everything finally became

too much for him, and he didn't _want_ to win. When he was defeated, he

asked Kushrenada to kill him." I didn't want to tell him this, and I

guess it showed.

"And you're letting him fly missions like this?"

I laughed, bitterly. "I don't have any choice. It's just the two of

us right now, and we need to make it look like there are at least four

of us. We can't have them start to wonder what we're up to if we're not

running about blowing things to hell."

"He's going to get himself killed!" Chen was furious.

"No."

That shut him up. Shinigami is a nasty person, much nastier than I've

ever been around Chen, and that's saying a lot. I put as much force

into that word as I could. He stared at me for a long moment.

"He's not going to do anything that would risk others. He knows that

lives depend on him. He won't chance either losing the Gundam or doing

something that could possibly lead OZ to the rest of us." I forced

myself to drop the death glare

(Patent No. 234784574893-45, Copyright, Heero Yuy.)

and relaxed a little. "As far as I can tell, he's not actively

suicidal. I think he just saw an opportunity and took it."

"And how are you going to keep him from _making_ another opportunity?"

Chen demanded.

He was furious. I reaffirmed my decision not to tell him about that

_other_ kiss. The last thing Wu needed was to have to try to explain my

corpse to the others. "That's what you're here for." I told him.

Chen narrowed his eyes. "I see. My coming here was your idea, then?"

"Your clan elders sent you to Earth, but you'd never have found us

without our permission," I told him. "Wufei needs someone he can talk

to, and that person doesn't seem to be me."

"What did you _do_ to him, Maxwell?"

Well, shit. Chen is fast on the uptake. Not as fast as Wufei, but fast

enough. My first mistake had been in avoiding the question when he had

asked it before. That had alerted him to the fact that I _had_ done

something. Wu must've told him that I don't lie. My second mistake was

hesitating over my answer when he asked again. Chen was right up in my

face before I'd come up with a decent response, ie one that wouldn't get

me killed.

Note to self: Don't ever go up against Chang Chen without a gun.

"Speak to me, Maxwell. Don't make me go in there and ask Wufei."

That tore it. He got his answer all in one frustrated breath. "He as

much as asked me to kiss him, and I did. Don't look at me like that and

don't _say_ anything. There's nothing you can say that can make me feel

any worse about it than I already do!"

"Wufei asked you to what?" Chen's eyes were wide with surprise. I

don't know what he'd expected me to say, but I'd obviously shocked him.

Great.

I _so_ did not want to talk about this. "Kiss him. You know, the act

of brushing one's lips together, occasionally utilizing the tongue?

Kiss? Smooch? Make out? Tonsil Hockey? Are you with me on any of

this?"

Chen favored me with a death glare of his own. It wasn't as impressive

as mine but he's only 14 and has not, to my knowledge, ever killed

anybody. That didn't mean that he wasn't dangerous, mind you. I knew

damn well that he could probably kick my ass in unarmed combat.

But it took the edge off the glare.

"Wufei is not the type."

That floored me. "What type?"

"The type to _ask_ for a kiss."

Okay, color me totally lost. "What?"

Chen put one hand to his forehead as if fighting off a headache. "Sit

down and tell me _exactly_ what happened. From the beginning. And

Maxwell?"

"Yeah?"

"No creative omissions."

**

I am the most fortunate girl on the face of the planet.

Relena _Peacecraft_ has resurfaced, and is making no secret of the fact.

She is staying with a nobly born distant relation until her formal debut

into political circles, a debut which I will certainly make a point of

attending.

I have the software for the new Gundam operating system sitting on my

desk.

And I have Duo Maxwell exactly where I want him. Or I will have

shortly.

Using just these three elements, I am going to change the face of the

world.

Some girls get excited about new shoes, others give little screams of

delight over good-looking boys or fancy parties. These things do not

excite me. I am an addict, and my drug of choice is called power.

No one will ever remember my name in conjunction with the things that I

have done. No one knows that I was behind the unfortunate events at the

Noventa estate, although it was a programming error that caused the

rampant slaughter there. No one will ever be able to connect my name to

the temporary and involuntary adoption of Duo Maxwell by Zechs Merquise.

I know these things, and that is enough.

There is a plan in the works even now to develop a set of Mobile Dolls,

machines that need no direct operator to sit at the controls as the

machine goes into battle. All that is needed to make them the most

frightening tool of war ever seen is a slight technological upgrade or

two.

And when the elusive Deathscythe Hell with its oh-so-unique operating

system falls into my hands, the world will be mine to play with as I

like.

If only I could get into Kushrenada's head, I would have nothing at all

left to worry about. Grandfather thinks that Kushrenada is a convenient

weapon, to be turned in any direction that he chooses.

Hah.

Blind obedience is not one of the man's strong points. He is far too

clever and his little cabal is up to something. What that something is,

I have yet to discover.

But I will.

**

Commander Treize has been very quiet of late. He still works long

hours, but he doesn't smile as much as he used to. He travels as little

as possible and the files on the Gundams and their pilots have taken up

a semi-permanent residence on his desk. He seems to think that they

hold some sort of answer to his problems, some secret that he can

unravel by will alone.

Until that time, however, he has given me other orders.

It was not his first choice in plans and certainly not one of OZ's most

memorable moments. However, we had nothing better to go on. We needed

information from our captive Gundam pilot and Commander Treize had made

it quite clear that he would not allow torture under any circumstances.

Lewis Jones is being kept under constant surveillance. His room is

monitored on a 24 hour basis. The visual records from the security

cameras in the public areas that he is allowed to frequent are saved in

a separate file and he has a constant shadow in the form of his personal

guard.

The Commander thought that it would a good idea to have one of our best

and brightest to monitor and attempt to win the confidence of this boy.

It was sheer luck that one of our most promising young officers is only

17, his position gained both through private military experience and

battlefield promotion. Hopefully he will be able to convince

the Gundam Pilot to confide in him.

In the meantime, however, he has been assigned to keep careful track of

everything that Jones says and does. The log of his various interests

and activities during the course of the day is placed on my desk every

evening. Lt. Barton has sole possession of the various keys, codes and

passwords that are needed to do so much as requisition a meal in this

place. Jones cannot lift a finger without the Lieutenant's aid and

observance.

Commander Treize is stalling as much as he can, but our time is running

out. The Romafeller Foundation is pushing ahead with their plans for

subjugation and the matter will come to a head in a matter of months.

Things would be much easier if we could convince Jones to simply hand us

the information that we seek. The questions are innocent enough. We

are not as interested in the Gundams at this point as we have been. No,

the answers we are looking for concern those five pilots.

Noin has been co-opted by the Commander and assigned to Zechs

permanently. They are up to some secondary plan which I am not privy

to. When I inquired as to their mission, the Commander merely made some

comment about not keeping all of his eggs in one basket.

Yesterday I discovered something very disturbing which effectively

caused me to lose any interest in the activities of Noin and Zechs.

My private files have been hacked. Not once, but twice. This knowledge

led to a flurry of inquiries and I discovered that there are at least

four double agents within the OZ intelligence division. One or more of

these agents is apparently stationed here at headquarters.

It is my responsibility to keep Commander Treize safe. I will find

these traitors, and I will determine who sent them.

No matter the means.

**

"I told you so."

I looked up from my paperwork to see Zechs standing in the doorway of my

office, one elbow resting on the jamb.

"Told me what?"

"That the damn thing would be black."

I blinked. Playing at non-sequiturs before brunch is not one of my

hobbies. "What are you doing here, Millard? I thought you were

supposed to be in bed after playing so hard with your new toy."

"It's not a toy. In fact, that's how I got here today." He let himself

into my office, closing the door behind him and immediately removing his

mask. He tossed the thing onto a nearby chaise longue and crossed the

office toward my desk. "But you're not paying attention."

"What am I supposed to be paying attention to?" I smiled. It was

rarely difficult to smile around Zechs. He brought out the best in me

simply by expecting it.

"That damnable Gundam. I _told_ you that it would be black."

Ah. His obsession with Gundam 02. "You've seen Maxwell's Gundam?"

He grinned, a flash of teeth curving into a blinding smile. "Better."

Raising both eyebrows I leaned back in my chair and steepled my fingers.

"Do tell?"

He came around the desk and slipped a disk into my computer. "Some kind

soul left me a little present. One of Une's spies dropped this off at

my duty post yesterday, and I was the ranking officer present at the

time."

I sat bolt upright in my chair as information flowed across the console.

The screen froze and I found myself staring at a positively demonic

black Gundam wielding a glowing scythe. Above it arced a pair of black,

bat-like wings, which only added to its somewhat melodramatic

appearance.

"Shinigami. I begin to see why Maxwell told you to call him that...."

He laughed, leaning over my shoulder to retreive his disk. "It's worse

than that. They've named it Deathscythe Hell, after the quirks of its

pilot, presumably.... Although in light of their subsequent disposal of

the young man in question and his abandonment to my somewhat

questionable keeping, it seems a bit odd."

Zechs knows exactly how to make me laugh.

"Are these the complete technical specifications?" I asked, bringing his

attention back to the matter at hand. This information could be of

incredible use to us, not simply because it would make it easier to

fight the Gundams but because we finally had a Gundam of our own to

experiment with.

Zechs caught my hopeful expression and lost his smile. "This

information is not of much use as far as Tallgeese goes, Treize. Don't

get your hopes up."

"How so?" I wanted this to be easy. I prayed that it would be easy.

My prayers are often for naught.

"The technical specifications are there, but in almost every case there

are indications that they have been tinkered with. The power signatures

are provided, but there is no information as to _how_ they managed to

produce them. And those readings are nothing less than awe-inspiring.

Maxwell does the impossible on a daily basis, it seems. Probably some

sort of bizarre hobby." Zechs sighed.

"We'll probably discover next that the others do stand-up comedy or live

the lives of international playboys."

"Do you think that they're all so young?" He asked me.

"Wouldn't that be terribly humiliating, Millard? Brought to our knees

by a group of children," I sighed and poked moodily at the files

covering my desk.

"Not just any children." Zechs turned back to the computer. "Maxwell

personally tampered with the scythe, the stealth system and apparently

forced the operating system itself through some very interesting changes

that even its creator could not begin to figure out."

"Is there nothing we can use?"

I must have sounded as despairing as I felt, for he brightened again

instantly. "There are a great many things. However...."

I waited.

"What we really want is that stealth system."

He looked like a child outside a toy store, his nose pressed to the

window. I smothered a smile at the inadvertent mental image. What

Zechs desperately wanted, above anything in the world, was to challenge

Duo Maxwell to a fair fight. It was a pipe dream, but it was a great

deal less self-destructive than his previous obsessions.

If he could find a way to acheive this strange duel, I would not stand

in his way.

I somehow do not think that Maxwell would kill him.

I have no doubts that the same young man would take sadistic delight in

peeling off my skin one strip at a time, however. I can't blame him,

either. I hadn't meant to do what I did to the boy.

Chang Wufei is a thing of beauty, but the events set into motion by

those in power have broken him. I am the tool of those forces, to my

shame. I wanted to give him some gesture of apology, of comfort.

But I inadvertently pressed too close. I could see the pain in his eyes

and I acted without thought, something that I do only rarely.

However, for all his maturity, Chang Wufei is only 15 years old and

there are some lines that I do not cross. But if he hadn't been so

badly torn inside, I think that he might have been someone who could

understand me.

Someone I could trust.

**

I listened to Maxwell as the entire story came pouring out. To his

credit, I don't think that he left anything out this time. It was too

surreal to be anything but the truth. I was in shock, although having

seen some of their previous adventures I shouldn't have been surprised.

When he finally came to the end, I said nothing. Maxwell was observant

enough, but he still did not know enough about our clan and my cousin to

fix this mess. He was missing too many pieces of the puzzle.

On second thought, I don't think that he _can_ fix this, but at least he

wants to try. I would help him as best I could. This was my

opportunity to repay my cousin for what he had done for us back on L5.

I found myself wishing for a moment that I was my elder brother. Lian

had been born under very boring stars. He was allowed to do as he

willed because the elders thought him of no importance. I would trade

my life for his in a heartbeat. I wondered how much of a headache I

would have when all this was over. How much should I tell Maxwell about

our clan?

Maxwell was fidgeting by the time I had made up my mind, and I took a

great deal of sadistic pleasure in asking him for something to eat, as I

had been traveling for quite some time. It was an interesting

sensation, this transfer of power. He was hanging on my every word.

Once I had my dinner, some bizarre sort of sausage, I decided to simply

follow his example and tell him everything.

"Chang Wufei is the heir of our clan," I began.

Maxwell's eyes widened. "Does that mean what I think it does?"

"Our clan is a bit stranger than most and a lot of things changed when

we left the Earth, so probably not. Just listen, all right?"

He nodded, pushing his own untouched dinner to one side and granting me

his undivided attention. It was a bit unnerving, actually.

"Our clan has a number of very old customs, among them the position of

clan head. As you probably noticed, we have a council of elders,

usually between six and seven of our oldest members. They keep the

family records, track the various bloodlines and make sure that our clan

traditions are carried on. For the most part, the head is in charge of

the more mundane business of the clan. He does not interfere with the,

well, cultural end of things." I sighed.

This was difficult to explain, particularly in a fashion that Maxwell

would understand. It had taken several years of schooling before I had

followed some of the more complicated aspects of it all, and I was

Wufei's designated successor.

"So the old guys run your life and the clan head is supposed to pay the

bills?"

I constantly underestimate him. I nodded. "Very broadly, yes. Wufei

is supposed to assume his position as clan head upon his eighteenth

birthday."

**

Well. That explained one hell of a lot. "But he's clan heir _now_. So

when we commandeered that shuttle, the pilot gave it to us because Wufei

_owned_ it?"

"Generally speaking, yes." Chen drummed his fingers lightly on the

table. "At least, as far as he knew. By that time, Wufei wasn't the

heir anymore. Of course, no one knew that but Wufei and the elders."

He was staring at me. I realized that I had been waving one hand

absent-mindedly toward the back of my neck, searching for my braid.

Damn it all. I put both hands flat on the table. "Was that what his

little speech was all about?"

"I'll get to that. Pay attention. Wufei was born under a certain set

of signs. The elders took this and interpreted it to mean that he would

do great things, bringing a great deal of both honor and glory to our

family. They said that his destiny was to bring fame to our clan

through wisdom and knowledge. All of this was decided before he was

more than a few days old."

"So the Wu guy was destined for greatness. Then what happened?"

Chen frowned at me. I don't know if it was because I'd interrupted him

or if he was just pissed at the clan elders. "His parents died. The

position of clan head went temporarily to my father, until Wufei was

judged old enough to assume his proper place. Wufei became the

responsibility of the entire clan. He lived alone in his parent's house

with his tutors and his servants. Our family kept him company on formal

occasions, but aside from frequent visits by the elders, he was mostly

alone. We were not allowed to disturb his studies, and any energy he

might have had for rebellion or play was turned toward meditation and

pursuit of various martial arts."

"Are you trying to tell me that he's _always_ been this way?" I felt

sick to my stomach. "Hasn't he ever had any friends?"

"No. They kept him isolated on purpose, Maxwell." Chen rubbed his

forehead. "Wufei is the last of a direct line. The elders have been

struggling to keep that line alive and as pure as possible for

centuries. They did not want him forming any 'unfortunate'

attachments."

Oh, this was bad. This was really, really bad. Chen's face had gotten

all stiff there near the end, just the way Wu's did when he was _really_

upset but didn't want anyone to know. "Let me guess. There's someone

you're interested in and you can't have her for more or less the same

reasons. Am I right?"

Chen sighed and looked down at his hands. "Yes. We are all in the same

boat, but the families of Wufei, Saiming and myself are most directly

affected. We are not allowed to marry without the permission of the

elders because we are so close to the original bloodlines and they want

to keep control of that."

"That sucks." I was slowly beginning to get angry. I had always known

that there was more to Wufei than met the eye. I had been surprised,

but not shocked, to find out that he had been married. I knew that he

had all the social skills of a rock when dealing with us pilots, but I

never knew why. God, even _I_ had been given more control over my life

than that.

"I do not approve of what they tried to do to my cousin. By the time he

was 12 he was not only an accomplished scholar but had been thoroughly

indoctrinated with all the beliefs and prejudices that the elders had

chosen for him. They wanted him to be absolutely perfect." Chen looked

like he'd bitten a lemon. This was nothing less than brain-washing and

he knew it.

I leaned forward again, resting my weight on my elbows. This explained

a whole hell of a lot, but I knew that I was still missing vital

information. "And then what happened?"

"They made a terrible, terrible mistake," he whispered.

**

His face darkened a little. Saiming had told him all about Meiran.

Perhaps she had seen the signs that I had missed, signs that our perfect

cousin was starting to crack under the strain. Maxwell knew the entire

ugly, tragic story of my cousin and his wife. Saiming had probably

thought that Wufei's closest friend ought to know. But we really only

knew half of the story.

Meiran had been very close to Saiming and Lingwei, but Wufei had not

spoken of their marriage to anyone.

"So basically, his first chance at friendship and any sort of

relationship outside the pages of a book was a total disaster." Maxwell

sank his chin down on his folded arms and stared at me. "And then he

went almost directly to Earth and found us."

"I didn't think that he had the capacity for personal relationships," I

admitted. "When he told me that we went to the school to rescue a

friend, I was shocked."

Maxwell smiled a little. "We weren't exactly friends before all this

started."

"I can't imagine why not," I drawled. "At any rate, I got back to L5

quite a bit before you did, and alerted the elders. We got you back,

and that's when the trap sprang closed."

"They were waiting for him." Maxwell had one hand fluttering at the

back of his neck again. It looked like a habitual gesture; something he

did while he was thinking.

"They were waiting for him," I agreed. "They wanted him back

desperately. This wasn't how his life had been planned out and the

elders _hate_ to be flouted. They had been trying to get him to return

since the moment that he left. I can't decide if they were afraid that

he would develop a mind of his own or were actually worried about him

for himself."

"They don't give a shit about him," Maxwell told me grimly, opening his

eyes again. "If they cared about him they would have known better than

to so totally piss him off. What happened that morning, Chen?"

"They were getting ready to marry him off." I could feel my expression

freezing up, but couldn't manage to relax. "Poor Lingwei had nothing to

say about it. They were going to tear her away from her sister and her

family to marry her off to the clan heir, and she was supposed to be

properly dutiful and obediently happy about the whole thing."

"She didn't want to marry Wu," Maxwell agreed. "Even I could see that

much."

"It's more than that," I told him. "She's madly in love with someone

else."

He winced. "Okay, that's beyond cruel."

I could feel my mouth twisting into a bitter smile. "We are all the

puppets of the elders, Maxwell. I was angry when Wufei took Shen-long

and went to Earth. He had escaped and left the rest of us behind. I

was furious and bitterly afraid. After what happened with Meiran, we

knew that he had strength of will. He had enough anger and courage to

stand up to the elders. We, Saiming, Lingwei and our other cousins,

were praying that he would take his position as clan heir and eventual

clan head as an opportunity."

"You wanted to be free."

I nodded, my expression bitter. "Even if I succeed Wufei, if I attempt

to stand up to the elders it will be thought that I am doing so merely

for personal reasons, not for the good of the clan. They will not

accept my efforts to change things."

"I'm sorry." The sentiment was sincere. I could tell.

"I am used to it," I told him. "At any rate, they had a meeting all

arranged for him. We managed to arrive before he did because he went