Two Sides of the Same Story

Pairings: establishing Heero & Duo

Warnings: strong language (mainly on Duo's part), shounen-ai.

Summary: Heero Yuy and three fellow pilots are sent from the space colonies to Earth with their machines of war, Gundams, to retaliate against the cruel oppression by the ruling militaristic force, the Alliance. Duo Maxwell, top officer and ace pilot of the Alliance elite branch, the Specials, soon has to face the Gundams and himself in the maelstrom of war; a raging war that will change history, lives, friends into enemies, and enemies into lovers.

Author's note: the fic follows the main storyline of the show, but focuses more on the events 'in-between'. Duo starts out as an OZ officer, but he'll be switching sides (no bastardizing of character). Feedback is greatly appreciated.

Key: ------------ = scene change

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Heero Yuy looked displeased in the mirror; his blue eyes focused on his image of a young, fifteen year old boy, clad in the school uniform of the St. Gabriel Institute. He hated uniforms. With a single movement, he loosened the suffocating tie and shed his jacket in the process. He had work to do. He lifted the mattress of his bed, pulling out the hidden gun and checking the bullet clips. Everything was still in place. He put it on the bed cover and continued stripping himself of the rest of the uniform, a starchy white blouse, a dark red vest, and dark purple pants. He really hated school uniforms, but he needed it for blending in. He didn't want to stand out amongst the students.

The small dorm room contained the basic furniture, without any frills: a bed, a cupboard, a massive desk and a wooden chair. Heero didn't mind that his room was deprived of any sort of personal paraphernalia because he didn't have any, besides his laptop. He had hacked into the school system to make sure he would get a single room. He didn't appreciate a roommate. He snorted. If they knew why I'm here, they'd probably lock me up and provide me with a cellmate. Hearing scratching noises at the door, he quickly covered the gun on the bed. Within an instant, he was at the door, barely making a sound. Someone is trying to get in! Are they onto me that fast? He gritted his teeth.

"Are we at 112?" A girl exclaimed loudly, speech rather slurred. "This is 112, ri-hight?"

"We're on the wrong floor, silly..." Another girl started to laugh and they both snickered for two more minutes, before they finally went away. Heero snorted again and let out the breath he was holding. St. Gabriel's maintained a strict no-alcohol policy; the girls could get themselves in serious trouble, if only for wandering around in the boys' wing.

"Fools," he snarled. It took him three steps to get back to his bed and he finished dressing himself quickly. A green tank top and spandex shorts; not the most comfortable clothes, but comfort was something he had left behind a long time ago. A good soldier cared about the mission, not about comfort. He tucked the gun into his waistband.

Only one day on Earth and already he had managed to screw up royally. His Gundam had been damaged and sunk to the bottom of the ocean, and a girl had seen him on his supposedly secret arrival.

"Relena."

Heero was surprised to find out that she was also a student at this institute. The silly girl had approached him with an entourage of fawning air headed friends, to give him an invitation to her birthday party. He had ripped it up. He didn't care. He had taken the opportunity to wipe away the girl's tears, only because it gave him the chance to tell her he would kill her.

"I'll kill her."

He knotted the laces of his sneakers with more force than necessary. He couldn't imagine what his words had done to the girl. She had seen him when she shouldn't and now she had to die. It's as simple as that. Some agent he was, and some secrecy he maintained. Dr. J's orders were very specific. Heero was sent to Earth to retaliate against the Alliance, the tyrannical organisation that held supreme control over the space colonies. Once started out as an organisation to unify the Earth and the colonies, with the idealistic principle of solving disputes by conversation and negotiation, the Alliance had slowly but steadily turned into a militaristic institute that used force to gain and maintain control.

Instead of setting foot on Earth unnoticed, he'd been forced to sink his Gundam with a malfunctioning driving system. The OZ carrier he encountered on his descent from the L1 colony to Earth had altered his plans; the pilot of the Leo that the carrier harboured was good enough to hit the left side of Heero's Wing Gundam. The unknown pilot had crashed his Leo into the Gundam and due to the extra weight, Heero had no other choice than to plummet down, into the ocean. Careless, but I had no other option. Wing could've withstand the Leo, but a mobile suit fight in the atmosphere would've gotten more unwanted attention, not to mention there was a civilian spacecraft nearby to witness it all. Let the Alliance think they beat the Gundam for now.

He was all dressed up. He glanced at himself in the mirror. It would be of no use trying to tame the unruly mop of chocolate brown hair and frankly, he didn't care about his looks anyway. A good soldier cared about his mission alone, and he had failed his mission. The girl had seen him. She had to die.

Heero jumped out of the window and landed on the ground, automatically rolling his body to avoid any damage. He stood up fast and took off sprinting. He didn't even break a sweat in his rigid tempo of jogging. Heero had to meet one of Dr. J's contacts, someone who would supply him with fuel and ammunition for his Gundam. With a bit of luck, this contact could help him getting Wing off the bottom of the ocean. Time was running out; the Marina would certainly conduct a search party and even though the self-detonation device of the suit was activated, losing Wing was unacceptable: it would be a severe blow to the execution of future plans.

I'll deal with the girl later. She's not important at the moment. He wondered for a brief moment why he remembered her eyes. Blue eyes as deep as the ocean. He didn't know if the anger he felt was directed at him or at the girl, who in blessed ignorance had called an ambulance when he washed ashore. How was she supposed to know she wasn't allowed to see him? You screwed up, and now you're going to kill a girl just because you were so stupid to underestimate your opponent? Heero narrowed his eyes. Orders were orders.

Heero arrived fifteen minutes early at the park where the meeting was set up. This contact was one of Dr. J's most loyal and trustworthy men, or so he was told. Heero rather liked to keep a natural distance; he wasn't really impressed with those words. Everyone is for sale. It only depends on the price. He had asked why Dr. J couldn't be his contact on Earth himself, but his mentor insisted on staying on the colony, to continue his work for the rebels.

Choosing his hiding place carefully, Heero had an excellent view of the meeting point. There was no one in sight yet. It stung him that this man, this contact, actually wasn't supposed to meet him, but another pilot. Heero wasn't thrilled about the existence of other, more, Gundam pilots, either. He wouldn't have known it, if it weren't for Dr. J blabbing about it in one of those rare moments where they shared some insights and thoughts on another level but trainer to trainee.

Despite Heero's effort to persuade the man to tell more, the doctor only reluctantly admitted there were three others, boys just like Heero, about to descend to Earth. One for every main colony cluster, five in total. Heero had noticed that J had said 'three others', not four. Before the doctor grouchily ordered him to run thirty extra laps the size of two football fields, he told Heero that the pilot of 02 wasn't... ready…yet.

When running the laps, Heero certainly recalled the hesitation when J mentioned 'ready'. He was 01, the three others 03, 04, 05, now J had confirmed their existence. The doctor never mentioned the 02 pilot again and Heero didn't ask. He knew the consequences if he asked too much. It kept him puzzled somehow and on the rare nights he had lain awake, he pondered about what could've happened and why this pilot wasn't 'ready' yet.

Heero heard footsteps. Someone was approaching the meeting point. Heero put his hand on the gun. If the man didn't fit the description Heero was given, he would shoot him. No one was to interfere with his mission and anyone coming to this place at this time would know about the meeting. Dr. J had told Heero twice that the contact person was originally intended for the 02 pilot, something that had ticked Heero severely off. Dr. J never repeated himself- not even mission details. From the words of the doctor, Heero gathered that 02 still hadn't descended to Earth. Heero didn't question his orders. He had taken on this burden alone. He didn't need other people to help him.

The man standing in the light of a street lamp fitted the description. At the moment the man lit a cigarette, Heero decided to reveal himself. He emerged from the bushes, taking two, three silent steps to sneak up to the man. He poked the gun in the man's side and heard an audible gasp.

"Are you here to see the shooting stars?" Heero asked.

The man almost choked on his cigarette, but answered with the proper code. "All four of them."

Four. Not five. Heero poked harder with the gun.

"All right, all right." The man took a deep breath. "All four of them. They're hard to see from Earth, but they shine brightly." He muttered. "I'm going to kill someone for this."

Heero pulled back the gun, but didn't put it away. He slowly moved around the man until he faced him.

"Sheesh kid, you're awfully jumpy. Let me see..." The man looked at him. "Yes, you're just a kid. God, they really must be desperate to send kids to do this work."

"Enough with the talk," Heero cut him off. He wasn't about to discuss his age or his fighting abilities with this man.

"Okay, okay." The man took another drag of the cigarette. "Listen."

Heero listened intently. The man rattled off a list of names of reliable men and women who were on the side of the rebel forces and who could help him with provisions, ammunition or medical aid when necessary.

"... and finally, there's Howard. He's mostly with his Sweeper group on a ship in the Pacific."

Heero perked up. "Howard?" Ship in the Pacific?

"Yes, he's officially the contact for 02, but as long as there is no established pilot, Howard has offered to be your contact. I'll tell you how you can reach him."

Again with the mysterious 02 pilot!Heero tried to sound as casually as possible when he said: "When's 02 supposed to arrive?"

The man scowled. "The Gundam is already on Earth. The pilot, well, that's another question."

"What?" Heero poked again with the gun. The man jumped, startled.

"Hey, watch what you're doing!" He immediately raised his hands. "I can't tell you much, kid. I only know that 02 is on Earth and that we're waiting for the right pilot to arrive. I'm sorry, but at this moment you'll have to do all the work with the four of you."

"You know them? You've seen the others?" Heero didn't move the gun.

"No, we don't even know their names. J will tell you when there's any change."

Not likely, he mussed. "All right. Thank you for the information."

"You're welcome," the man said, without an effort to hide his sarcasm. Heero didn't give him a second thought. The man was already out of his mind when he backtracked to the Institute. Four pilots, five Gundams. There was so much to do and they were short-handed already.

Heero frowned. He shouldn't have been so curious. He didn't question any order or any movement the rebel organisation made, so why was he so curious about this 02 pilot? He knew it before he reached the Institute. The original plan was to send five Gundams and five pilots, and now there were five Gundams and four pilots. The plan hadn't succeeded. It wasn't perfect.

"Ninmu shippai," he muttered in his native language and almost startled himself. He hadn't spoken Japanese since he was five. Quickly he climbed the outside wall of the Institute and pushed his window open. He rolled inside and onto his bed. While he was waiting for sleep to come, he formed a plan in his head. First, he would contact this Howard to get Wing off of the bottom of the ocean, before the Marina had any chance of locating it. Second, he would deal with the girl and third, continue with the mission. Those were the most important steps. Satisfied, he turned onto his left side, faced the wall, and closed his eyes firmly. His body needed the sleep. He needed to be in shape.

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Duo Maxwell yawned. He yawned so loudly that his jaw almost popped. This was a day like any other day at Nairobi Base, one of the most important Alliance's bases: get up, get dressed, get breakfast, and get bored. He stole a glance from under his chestnut bangs to his fellow students.

Everybody was dressed in their uniform; a green jacket with golden embroidery and dark red patches at the collar, shoulders and sleeves, combined with light coloured pants and shiny polished boots. Even the prescribed dark green caps with the golden OZ logo - a simplified carving of a lion - were present. Duo didn't doubt for a second that all the students wore them in the right, perfect angle. His one was shoved at the back of his head, showing much more of his thick, chestnut hair with light brown strands. He was also the only student to wear his hair long in a braid of impressive length, reaching to his lower back.

He tapped impatiently with a pencil on his notebook. This was one of the few lessons where he was actually the student, not the teacher. For his young age of merely fifteen, Duo was a respected member and ranking officer of the Specials, an elite group of top mobile suit pilots, and he had the decorations to prove it. Duo yawned again. The Specials, founded by Treize Khushrenada, trained pilots for the mobile suits they supplied to the Alliance, and Duo was one of the best instructors.

His eyes darted around the room. These men, these students, were his fellow comrades in arms, but he didn't regard them as such. They were Alliance soldiers; sock puppets of a mass organisation that needed violence and brute force to maintain their power. From the moment Duo arrived at the base, he had had a hard time accepting and being accepted. Every member of the Specials was distrusted and disliked by the Alliance soldiers, mostly because of their rights to act virtually independent from the Alliance in battle. On top of that, Treize favoured Duo, as he was immediately donned with a rank, the privilege to maintain his hair as long as he wanted, and a single room with all the facilities other soldiers had to share; a bathroom, a television set, cupboards and a desk.

It didn't take long before he became the target of bullies, but Duo relied on the hard lessons he'd learned on the streets of the war-torn, socially deprived L2 colony, where he was raised.

He'd earned the respect of the men by working hard, excelling in piloting and fighting, and outwitting his bullies. After he humiliated the worst of them badly in a fight, it became pretty clear real fast that Duo could stand up for himself. The Specials accepted him immediately; they recognized his skills and talents much faster then members of the Alliance.

"Mister Maxwell, I assume you haven't heard a single thing I've said?"

The teacher made no secret of his disdain for Duo. He was one of the elder Alliance soldiers who, even after Duo had proven his capacities, still were suspicious and irritated about him.

"You've assumed that right, for once," Duo answered and the class tried to hide their laughter.

"Silence!" The teacher slammed a ruler onto the desk of a student who barely managed to withdraw his hand. "I guess you'll only learn when you have to write a nice long essay about paying attention in class. Yes, it's childish, Mister Maxwell, you don't have to look so horrified. You're still a child and you'll be treated as such as long as you don't pay attention."

"Sir!" Duo answered and mock-saluted. The teacher was about to say more, but a buzzer rang. End of class. He quickly stood up and made sure he went with the flock of the students leaving the class.

"What an idiot," a private next to him murmured. "Anyway, it's nothing that you already don't know, now do you, Duo?"

"Yeah," Duo answered absent-mindedly. He hadn't opened his textbook and wouldn't have known what the commotion was all about. Another private made a snide remark about the teacher and he laughed. Duo fiddled under his collar and stroke with his thumb over the silver crucifix he wore. Privates and other military students filled the hallway, talking about the next class. Boring, as always. He followed the other privates to the locker room. The walls were plastered with Alliance campaign posters, and video screens were available at every corner, to check up on the latest news.

It wasn't a secret that there was a lot of tension in the Alliance at the moment. Skirmishes on Earth, colonies questioning the imposed reign, rebel fights. Squadrons of mobile suits had been sent out to end the small revolts, and Alliance representatives stressed the "in the name of justice and peace" aspect of their actions. Duo shook his head. He had seen the "justice and peace" from the Alliance up close and personal; and he had the scars to prove it. He realized he had clenched his fists so tight that he had to summon himself to relax.

"Duo! Hey, Duo!!"

"Yes?" Startled, he turned around. He searched his memory quickly for the name of the young soldier who ran towards him. Ah, Reddington.

"Duo..."

"Reddington! What is it? Hey, did you see the football game? You had tickets, right?"

"I'm sorry," the private panted, "I'm sorry. There was... at the Corsica base, Duo. A mobile suit attacked and Walker... Walker is dead. Sir," he added quickly and flushed furiously, because he had addressed an officer rather familiar. It was an attitude Duo himself worked in hand. After the initial troubles, he got along fine with almost everyone and the students or soldiers he instructed were firmly told to address him with his first name; except for some stuck-up Alliance geezers.

"Walker? A mobile suit? What happened, an accident?" Duo tried to wipe off the surprised look of his face. Walker was a good friend, graduated three months ago, and transferred to Corsica base to get experience in the field.

"No, sir. It was an unidentified mobile suit, no match for the existing ones. It just walked up on the base and started attacking. Walker was very brave, sir. He sent the data to the stats department of the factory there, before he..."

Duo didn't allow Reddington to finish. "Who was the officer in charge at Corsica?"

"Commander Bonaparte, sir."

"Figures," Duo snarled. Bonaparte hated the Specials and their status with heart and soul, and insisted in using his ridiculous helium-filled zeppelin for travel, to mock the presence of the Specials at the Corsica base.The commander had severely underestimated his security and this 'unidentified mobile suit'. Duo felt his anger rising. The Alliance was omnipresent with their mobile suits, and they only knew one way to react-- with violence. Due to the rising tension of the last days, peace seemed even farther away. Duo gritted his teeth. Not for the first time, he wondered sometimes if people really wanted peace. From what he personally had been through, it didn't look that way. This wasn't the time to get lost in memories. His time would come, and the Alliance would crumble.

"Reddington, could you do me a favour? If you find out something about that unidentified mobile suit, could you please let me know?"

"Yes sir!" He saluted.

Duo dismissed him and spun on his heels. He walked with a firm pace to his quarters. He wanted to do some researching on his own, and pondered for a brief moment if he could go as far as to take it to Treize in person. His Excellency would certainly be interested to learn about a new mobile suit. A young private was standing in front of his door, relief plain on his face as he saw Duo approaching.

"Excuse me? Can I help you?"

"Sir! I was ordered to bring you to the officers' lounge, sir!" The private saluted.

"What? On whose command?" Duo smelled trouble. The past few times he'd been called to the officers' lounge, there had been severe problems to be solved; and they'd always involved the colonies and a battle.

"Base command…"

"Never mind, just lead the way." Duo interrupted him, relieved to hear his own voice sound confident and calm.

"Yes sir!"

Duo followed the private to the lounge, trailing behind the young man through huge corridors and a labyrinth of hallways. After five minutes, they arrived at a grey door and the private knocked, before he opened it and announced Duo.

"Lieutenant Duo Maxwell, Specials Squadron 0211, sirs!"

"Thank you, private, dismissed."

Duo's jaw almost fell to the floor. He had heard that voice only a few times before. From all the possibilities running through his head, meeting Treize Khushrenada hadn't been one of them.

"Duo, it's a pleasure seeing you again."

"You too, sir." Duo saluted before shaking Treize's hand. The man smiled. Clad in his official uniform, a purplish blue jacket with silver buttons, white pants and knee-high boots, donned with all the signs of his official rank, Treize oozed charisma and leadership. He didn't have to command, people would follow him to the end of the Earth and beyond. Duo's own gregarious nature was a slight mirror image of the man's charm, but Duo didn't know Treize well enough to determine if His Excellency's charm remained intact behind closed doors.

"Take a seat, Duo." Treize's familiarity with his first name irritated him faintly. Duo preferred that he'd be treated like any other officer, but he didn't comment.

Treize turned around, the cobalt-blue cape hanging from his right shoulder swirling in the air. "We have a lot of catching up to do."

Treize walked back to his chair, and Duo realized that there was someone else standing in the corner. He gazed at the man, obviously a high-ranked officer. He wore the same white pants and black knee-high boots, but his jacket was a bright red colour with golden buttons, and his face was covered with a silver mask. Platinum blond hair was visible, neatly combed and reaching his lower back. He was standing like a statue and didn't move when Treize took the seat.

Duo quickly moved to sit down too. The room was empty, and sparsely lit. He felt he was about to be interrogated, but his curiosity got the better of him. He stared at Treize.

"I've seen your file, Duo. You certainly have surpassed my expectations. I didn't expect anything else of you."

"Thank you," Duo answered.

"I have sent rather abruptly for you, but I wanted to talk to you because you're the best of the best and I need only the best for Operation Daybreak."

"Operation Daybreak?"

"The world's about to change, Duo. We're on the brink of a new future. A future I want to shape after my intentions. I don't want to leave it in the hands of the complacent Alliance."

Suddenly Treize pointed at the man standing next to him.

"Duo, may I introduce you to Zechs Marquise?"

"The Lightning Count?"

"Please, call me Zechs." His voice was low and curt. "It's just a name."

Duo lazily moved his leg over the other, outwardly unimpressed. The Lightning Count was a legend under the troops because of his outstanding performance in battle. He'd never thought he would be with him in the same room one day. Zechs Marquise, a name to remember.

He felt the man looking at him and dismissing him the next second. Duo smirked. People were easy and quick to judge him, not only because of his long hair, but also of his easy-going, almost lazy appearance and attitude. Only in the military, people made the correct assumption that a lazy attitude more times than not equalled 'danger', and Duo was confident that Zechs Marquise wouldn't be fooled by his appearance. If the man were as every bit of the excellent soldier he was rumoured to be, he wouldn't consider Duo an easy opponent.

"It's time for OZ to take center stage," Treize continued. "The Operation of the Zodiac is my organisation and the right tool in these times to gain hand over the Alliance. They have become too complacent, relying on us to supply their mobile suits and pilots, and winning battles for them. They're taking their lives for granted, basking in stained glory and effortless victories. The time has come to give the future a new direction."

"Your Excellency, what do you have in mind?"

Zechs spoke up. "You'll receive mission details concerning Operation Daybreak. I don't need to remind you about secrecy. We don't want OZ in the open until we say so."

"What's with the secrecy?" Duo ignored Zechs' harsh look. It was difficult to determine what his eyes were expressing anyway; the silver mask was huge, not to mention quite ridiculous.

"A good soldier doesn't question his orders." His voice remained low, but a little irritated.

"A good soldier asks questions to fulfil his curiosity, in order to carry out his orders to the full extent of their intentions." Treize smiled a large curving of his lips.

"I've heard a lot about you, Duo Maxwell," Zechs continued the conversation, "I guess we all owe you a thank you for saving Treize's life."

Duo frowned. Only a few people knew why he had received his privileges; he hadn't thought that the Lightning Count was one of them.

"It's okay, only Zechs knows." Treize motioned him to pick up a clipboard and he waited until the masked man handed it over to him.

"Well now... listen carefully. Operation Daybreak is going to change the political stage drastically. The Alliance will fall, and so will their hypocritical attitude towards the colonists. OZ will restore peace in outer space, Duo. I need trustworthy men for this operation. There will be Gundams involved."

"Gundams?" Duo tasted the strange word. It didn't feel that strange, though. As if he had heard it before. Treize cocked his head, watching him closely. After a moment of silence, he continued.

"I see. You've not been informed completely. Have you heard about Walker and what happened at the Corsica Base?"

"I heard that he died in a mobile suit attack." Duo felt his hair prickle. 'That unidentified big mobile suit' Reddington was talking about... could that have been a Gundam, whatever it was? He couldn't shake the impression that he heard about it before. Gundam.

Zechs opened the clipboard and pulled out a couple of pictures.

"Take a look at these, and tell me what you think. These were taken by OZ observation crafts."

Duo took the glossy pictures and leafed through them. A huge mobile suit in red and orange colours, with a gun mounted to its left arm. On the picture, the mobile suit was launching a wide array of missiles, surrounded by huge clouds of dust. The second picture showed a mobile suit in yellow, white and black colours, heavy armoured and with two - Duo could hardly describe the weapons - curved cutting weapons, looking like scimitars, slicing through Leo suits like a hot knife through butter. The third picture showed a blue, red and green coloured mobile suit with an extendable arm with a mounted flame thrower- the other hand held a huge beam glaive.

"What the hell are these?" The huge machines, radiating power all over, mesmerized him.

"They're called Gundams, named after the material they're constructed of: Gundanium. Refining gundanium is a painful, time consuming, and intensive process and only possible in space. We're not sure how they represent the colonies; maybe a rebel faction has built them. Zechs had the misfortune of running into one -" Duo quickly shot a look at Zechs, but the man didn't show any intention of picking up on the subject, "- and battling against it."

"Against this?" Duo winced. He wished he didn't sound like he was completely in awe.

Zechs nodded. "I knew it was made out of Gundanium as soon as I saw it blasting two Aeries in one shot. I felt the heat from the blast even when I was relatively out of distance."

"These Gundams haven't claimed any responsibility for their attacks nor declared their ties and origins. So far, a space port, a mobile suit factory and a supply base were attacked. And the Corsica base, of course. I know Walker was a good friend of yours, Duo. Please accept my condolences."

"Accepted," Duo mumbled. Zechs gave him another picture.

"This is the one I encountered."

It was the same model as the others; a huge humanoid machine, with blue and red colours. It had an enormous shield attached to its left arm and a beam rifle, unique in design, in its right hand.

"And you survived this?" Duo studied the picture.

"I was lucky," Zechs answered, voice flat. "I guess the pilot relied too much on his weapons. I hit him in the left flank, clung with the Leo onto him and it went down."

"Lucky... or you were deceived." Duo tapped on the picture. "Gundanium alloy is much more stronger than the average titanium alloy of a Leo suit. It should've withstood the extra weight without much effort. The pilot could've used the shield to rupture the Leo and freeing him of the weight."

"Interesting theory," Treize said, still observing Duo. "Tell me something.. how much do you remember from your time with the professor?"

"Huh?" Duo looked up from the pictures. "Not very much, Your Excellency." He focused his attention back to the pictures. The professor… a madman, a lunatic with mushroom shaped grey hair, and a hook nose of extraordinary proportions. The same professor who took him in after… the church… and offered him a shelter. Not a home, but a shelter. He offered Duo more; an intensive mobile suit operating training, stealth techniques that rivalled his own thieving skills, and knowledge. The only thing Duo had to do in return was to descend to Earth.

"The man had a very well equipped laboratory and garage. Did he never talk to you about his plans or goals, why he was teaching and training you? He must've said something, Duo."

He choose to ignore the slight impatient tone in Treize's voice. "I was very young at the time, Your Excellency. Every boy my age would've taken the chance to learn about mobile suits… and every boy in my position at that time would've kissed God himself if he had food and shelter." I would've kissed Shinigami for a hot meal. His eyes widened. What?

Treize lifted his hands. "It wasn't meant to offend you, Duo. I…"

They were interrupted by a knock at the door. A private came in, announcing that dinner was served.

"Excellent," Treize murmured. He still looked at Duo, who stared back at him, unfazed. What do you want me to tell you, Your Excellency? You, who were born with a silver spoon in your mouth? Do you want to know about what I've gone through to have at least a few bread crumbs, so I wouldn't lay awake from the hunger? Duo handed over the pictures.

"Here you are."

"Thank you." Zechs closed the clipboard and Treize rose from his chair.

"I'm having dinner in my quarters, Duo. I'd be pleased if you'd join me. We can discuss the Gundams and their ties with the colonies. I'm glad you don't underestimate the situation and that you see the danger. We'll have a lot to talk about."

"Dinner sounds nice," Duo answered and took a step to the side. In passing, Treize leaned forward and spoke softly, so Zechs couldn't hear him.

"You're one of the pillars we're going to build our new future on. A future without the Alliance. You still hate the Alliance, don't you? After all they did to you... I promised you revenge when you dragged me out of that burning suit, and I'm a man who lives by his words."

Duo merely nodded. "I know."

The revenge he was promised kept him on his feet, for all those years, since his home, his life, was destroyed in a blazing fire, caused by the retaliating Alliance. Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. Father Maxwell would be disappointed, maybe horrified, with Duo's thirst for revenge, but Duo hadn't known how to live his life otherwise. In the same moment all his hopes and dreams were destroyed with a blast of a mobile suit, his desire for retaliation and revenge were born; and one man promised him, with sweet words, that the moment would come that the Alliance would crumble, and he would be a great part of it. Duo turned to follow Treize, but kept the photo of the red and blue Gundam clutched in his hand.

He didn't even notice.