“Hey, Duo!” Snapping his head up, the braided man saw Howard making his way over to him, customary loud Hawaiian shirt firmly in place. “Any problems with the baby here? I souped her up special, just for you!”

Duo managed a genuine grin for the man who was almost like a father to him. “Got hit by a shockwave from the station,” he reported. “Everything worked fine in the battle, but you know how it is. Fine one minute, the next—poof!”

Howard nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, some of ’em can be a real bitch, especially after something messes with the system. I’ll get my boys to give it a thorough check over. Oh, and I made a couple of upgrades on Deathscythe.”

“Yeah?” Duo perked up. “Like what?”

“Managed to cut down on fuel usage—the same tank of fuel will now cover twice the distance,” Howard said proudly. “Also rerouted a couple of circuits to save on energy. No major additions this time like the ECM, just a couple o’ updates.”

Duo smiled. “Thanks Howie, you’re a real pal,” he said. “Gotta go have Sally prod me, I’ll come look at ’Scythe later.”

Howard nodded, wandering off into the mass of bustling life that was the hangar, yelling out instructions to his ‘boys’, most of whom were nearly as old as him. Duo sighed and shook his head, making a beeline for the entrance to the main quarters of the ship. The four he’d dragged off the station had been frog-marched through there, taken to interrogation. Quatre or another empath would check out their story—although it did seem like Quatre would be the best for the job. He had a knack for knowing not just when someone was lying, but when they had been brainwashed to believe something was the truth.

Anyway. Whatever. All Duo was looking forward to was a nice, long nap, as soon as he’d seen Sally. Orders were to get checked up for any injuries after any battle, major or minor, which was quite simply a pain in the ass when he came down from the adrenalin high. He edged cautiously into the entrance room to the main of the ship, avoiding one person he wouldn’t let himself think of for a reason he was steadfastly ignoring. . . .

“Duo!”

Duo’s head shot up as said person he least wanted to see right then came hurtling towards him. Hilde clamped onto his arms, shaking him. “Where’s Aaron?”

Oh fuck. God, why couldn’t you have left this until after I got some sleep?

Hilde and Aaron, his co-pilot, had been married less than two years before. Hilde had not been able to operate any part of the mission as she was too busy looking after their four month old daughter, Carrie. Hence his desire to leave this conversation for as long as possible.

How do you gently let one of your best friends know you got their husband shot in the head?

“Hilde. . . .” Duo sighed. “You’d better sit down.”

“Duo!” Hilde actually shook him. “Where is Aaron?! He was your co-pilot for the mission, so he should be back with you! Where is he?!”

She’d obviously heard some rumours, to be so worked up. Duo stared down at her and gently forced her hands off his arms. He’d have bruises from that grip tomorrow. . . . “Hilde . . . I am so sorry.”

She froze. “What do you mean, you’re sorry?” she asked in a dangerously quiet voice.

“Here, sit down.” She didn’t move. “Hilde, sit down!” She sat, mainly because he was shoving her.

Duo pushed some magazines to the side on the coffee table in front of Hilde and sat down. The entrance to the main body of the ship was almost like a reception area, comfortably padded seats with scratchy covers arranged in U-shapes, magazines at least a year out of date covering the low tables in the centre of each U-shape. Hilde’s dark blue eyes stared him in the face, somewhere between begging and commanding him to tell her what she thought wasn’t true.

“Hild . . . I am so sorry. It was my fault, if I had been more on my guard, we wouldn’t have been ambushed. . . . I’m sorry. Aaron took a bullet to the head—” Duo clamped his jaw shut, staring up at the ceiling to hide the sudden tears that had sprouted. On the station and in the battle, there hadn’t been time to grieve, time for the enormity of what had happened to sink in, adrenaline pushing aside all concerns beside the battle in front of him. Aaron had been a good man, a good friend, a good co-pilot, who had so very obviously adored his wife and daughter. Duo knew he’d miss the man, and most likely not find another co-pilot who could work with him so well. They were as insane as each other.

Duo spat his words out, knowing if he said them any other way he’d break down, and that would not help either of them. “We were ambushed. They were aiming for me—I dodged to the side, the bullet grazed my arm, but it caught Aaron square in the forehead—Hilde, I am so sorry. If I’d moved just a little slower, if I’d taken the bullet in my shoulder—painful but not life threatening—he’d still be here—I’m sorry—”

Duo’s head snapped back down at a choked sound from Hilde. She bit her lip, too proud to give in to the tears that were streaming down her face. He saw in her eyes that she wanted to yell at him, wanted to blame him for her husband’s death, and somehow it was worse that she didn’t.

He held out his arms to her, and she crumpled into them. “Sh, Hild, it’s okay,” he murmured, rubbing her back. A few curious onlookers tried to approach, only to be glared off. Duo knew he was one of a select few that Hilde would allow to see her in such a state, and she would be mortified if she realised a bunch of strangers could see her grief. He’d spare her what he could. “It’s gonna be all right, I’m here,” Duo whispered into her hair, mumbling the customary nonsense given to a person in pain.

“Hilde!” a familiar voice gasped from his left. Duo looked up to find Relena rushing towards them. She bundled the weeping girl out of Duo’s arms and into hers, somehow seeming to sooth the dark haired girl far more quickly and easily than Duo did. The American was almost jealous.

What happened? Relena mouthed at him over Hilde’s head, gently rubbing her shaking shoulders, open blue eyes dark with worry.

Aaron died, Duo mouthed back.

Relena’s eyes narrowed. “Shit,” she whispered, then continued in a louder voice. “Duo, my brother wants to see you. I’ll take care of Hilde, and Catherine’s looking after Carrie. Get a move on.”

Duo nodded dumbly, hating himself more than anything in that moment. He hurried through the corridors to the bridge, only to be told Zechs was in the interrogation cells with the four people he’d yanked off the exploding station. He made his way down to the cells.

“Zechs, you wanted to see me?” he asked tiredly, having shouldered his way through the throngs of people rushing about the ship, fully occupied with either repairing damaged units or caring for the wounded.

“Duo,” the blond man said pleasantly, albeit distractedly. “We’re short-staffed down here, and I thought that because you saved their lives, the four you grabbed off the station might open up more to you.”

“Zechs, I really don’t think—”

“Duo, please. I wouldn’t ask if there was anyone else, I know how you are after a mission. We pulled more survivors off that station than expected, and we’re in a rush trying to clear them all. I had to put all four of them in the same cell, we’re so overcrowded. And don’t start lecturing me about what a mistake that is, I know what it is!” Zechs grimaced and yanked his hand through his hair. “I’m trying to coordinate a dozen things at once—please, just do this for me?”

Duo bit his lip, then nodded. “All right, Zechs,” he said. “Which cell are they in?”

“Twenty-one,” he replied promptly, thrusting a folder towards Duo. “There’s the preliminary paperwork. Any particular empath you want looking over them?”

“Quatre, if possible,” Duo replied, glancing over the forms. According to official records, their DNA had not been entered into the UESA [1] database, meaning they were either part of the enemy or from an area not actively supporting the UESA. Which just made his job more difficult.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Zechs said, before charging off down another corridor. Duo hurried along to cell 21, absent-mindedly typing in the pass codes and kicking the door open.

As it swung shut, he sighed and leaned against it in relief. The heavy metal blocked out almost all sound, leaving only a slight background hum. For his developing headache, it was heaven.

“It’s you again,” a flat and distinctly unfriendly voice said. For a moment, Duo had a sense of déjà vu—he sounded almost exactly like Zechs. Except his name was Aya, wasn’t it. . . ? He winced internally. He had to more tired than he realised to be confusing people like that.

Covering up for his distraction, Duo rolled his eyes. “Hello to you too, sweet cheeks,” he replied. Walking over to the table, he slumped in the chair and tossed the folder onto the table, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. There was more than one reason for doing this; if he looked weary, he could be taken advantage of easily, and it would be more simple to spot a mistake.

The four men and boys sat on the hard, uncomfortable metal chairs all the interrogation rooms were supplied with. The table was unadorned save for a recording device implanted directly into the metal.

Duo yawned. “Okay, let’s get this over with.” He reached over and flipped the recording switch to ‘on’. “This is Duo Maxwell, Agent Night, interviewing refugees Fujimiya, Hidaka, Kudou, and Tsukiyono. Right then. None of your DNA matches any in the UESA database, meaning you’re either from a neutral zone or are part of Estet. Basically, I have to do a background check to make sure we can keep you on this ship without endangering any lives. Oh, and don’t bother lying to me, you’ll be checked out by one of the resident empaths anyway and it’ll just look worse if you do.” Duo leaned back in his chair, looking bored out of his mind. “We’ll start with a dumbass question, since I just realised I forgot to mention the date for the record. Okay, one of you gimme the day, month and year.”

“Twenty-second of July 2001,” Omi said promptly.

Duo gave him a look. “Yeah, right smartass. Now give me the real date.”

Omi looked confused, as did the others. “What do you mean, the real date? I just did.” One by one, the other men nodded their agreement.

Duo rolled his eyes. “Bullshit. It’s AC 203. 2001 was. . . .” he did a quick mental calculation. “Five hundred and forty-eight years ago.”

Yohji looked at him incredulously from over the top of his sunglasses. “You really expect me to believe a bullshit statement like that?”

Duo was rapidly losing patience. “Listen, idiot, I’m supposed to be on off duty now. I have a splitting headache from coming off the adrenaline high, I’ve just been in a nasty battle and had to tell one of my best friends I got her husband killed. My shoulder aches like a son-of-a-bitch, and all I want to do is find my bunk and sleep for the next ten years. The sooner I can get this done, the sooner we can all get out of here. Quit fucking around!”

Yohji sat up straighter and glared at him. “I don’t care what you say, I am not kidding you. Today is the twenty-second of July 2001. It was when I woke up this morning, it will be when I got to sleep tonight. I don’t know what the hell else is going on around here, but I wasn’t born yesterday.”

“I can’t believe this shit!” Duo shot to his feet. “Do you think this is some kind of joke?” he snarled out. “People died out there today, and you think this is funny? Look, buddy, the sooner you cut the crap the sooner I can go home and curl up beside . . . my. . . .” he trailed off, his eyes suddenly very wide. “Oh, shit,” he breathed, and slammed the door open, running like a bat out of hell.

He’d just realised. . . .

Trowa, his lover, had been on the station as well.

He hadn’t heard from him in the battle.

He hadn’t seen him when he’d come back. . . .

Gasping for breath, Duo skidded to a halt by the medical wing. “SALLY!” he bellowed, then grabbed the nearest nurse. “Has Agent Day shown up yet?” he demanded.

“I-I d-don’t—”

“Agent Day! Trowa Barton!”

“N-no, sir—”

“Fuck!” Duo let go of the frightened girl and pounded his way to the hangar.

“Maxwell, where do you think you’re going?”

Duo crashed to a halt and threw himself around to face Wufei. “Trowa’s not back—on the station—haven’t heard from him—”

Wufei clamped one strong hand around his arm. “You’re overreacting, Duo,” he told him bluntly. “The shockwave just shorted his systems. If you wait in the med bay, he’ll show up.”

“I can’t—” Duo blurted, eyes wide. “I have to go find him—”

“He’s not a baby, Maxwell,” Wufei told him in his most authoritarian voice. “He can find his own way home without you wiping his ass.”

“But what if—”

“He is not dead, you idiot, we got a call from him just before the shockwave hit. He got out. He’s just floating out there without power right now, and we have ships out searching for him and others that got hit.”

Duo slumped, relief banishing his brief rush of adrenaline—which meant his headache came back with a vengeance. He put his hand out for a solid surface to lean on, and Wufei caught him, grunting. “You’re too damn heavy to lean on me,” he told the taller man. “Here, I’ll take you to the med bay. Sally will want to check you over for exhaustion.”

“I can’t believe I forgot about him, ’Fei,” Duo mumbled into Wufei’s collar.

“Yes, well, apologise to him when he gets back. For now, stand up straight before my legs give out. You’re heavier than you look.”

Chuckling weakly, Duo stood, still leaning a little of his weight onto Wufei as they began to walk. “Can I ask you a favour, ’Fei?”

“As long as it’s not going and looking for Trowa myself or helping you put paint in the head of Une’s shower hose, yes.”

“Zechs asked me to interview the four guys I pulled off the station,” Duo told him. “I can’t think straight right now, an’ I won’t be able to until I get some sleep. Finish it for me?”

“All right,” Wufei said grudgingly. “But I really did want to check Nataku over. You owe me.”

“I think this is worth it,” Duo told him with a slight chuckle. “Get Quatre to check them for brainwashing, too. Would you believe they actually tried to convince me it was 2001?”

Wufei eyed him sideways. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“That’s what I said to them,” Duo told him.

Wufei snorted. “If they have been brainwashed by Estet, they really must think we’re fools.”

“Nah, just cattle,” Duo said bitterly. He yawned, and they arrived at the med bay. “This is my stop,” he chuckled sleepily. “Keep me posted on the details, ne, ’Fei?”

“Get some sleep, Maxwell,” Wufei said almost affectionately. “Find me when you wake up and I’ll tell you all about it.”

“Duo! Where have you been?” Sally spotted Duo at the door and stalked towards him, yanking him into a chair and dismissing Wufei with a negligent wave of her hand, much to his amusement. “You were supposed to report to me as soon as you arrived! And terrifying my nurses does not count as reporting in!”

“Sorry Sal,” Duo said sleepily. “Got subpoenaed into doing somethin’ else. You wouldn’t happen to have a free cot for a tired man, would you?” he implored.

Sally rolled her eyes. “Are you injured anywhere?” she demanded.

Duo shrugged. “Bullet grazed my shoulder,” he said.

Sally yanked his shirt off and dug her fingers none-too-gently into the flesh. “This is going to be dressed before you get anywhere near a cot,” she told Duo firmly, ignoring his squirming at her painful grip. Dragging Duo over to the cabinets with her, she grabbed a couple of medical wipes, soaked in alcohol, and cleaned the wound roughly.

Duo winced and hissed as she wrapped a bandage around it. “Could ya be a tiny bit nicer, Sal?” he implored.

She ignored him. “It’s not deep enough to need stitches,” Sally told him. “You were lucky.”

Duo’s gaze fell to the floor. “Yeah,” he whispered. “I was.”

Sally’s eyes softened—she had heard about Aaron’s death when Relena came in to share the news with her. Hilde was with Catherine and her daughter right now, and hopefully she would be able to pull through, if only for that beautiful little baby. “Come on,” she said to Duo, tugging at his shirt and urging him to stand. “I have a cot for you over here.”

Duo slumped down on the bedding where he was shoved, and was soon out like a light.

[End Part 2]