Feather Flight: You Fight So Hard for My Dreams (part 13)
An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language
*****
notes:
More useless vocabulary:
The Line: a.k.a. the front. The Selwe are methodical, sweeping across the continent hoping to drive the humans into the sea. Naturally the human armies have something to say about this…
Shards:
*****
Laro woke up in time for the sunrise. The lazy warmth of his bed was tempting, Masa even more so. He nuzzled the pale man gently, smiling when his efforts only resulted in a sleepy mutter. There were shadows under the closed eyes, even asleep the cat-man looked exhausted.
// One of us deserves to sleep in, anyway… //
He couldn’t help a wistful grin as he remembered just what had kept them up so late in the first place. As wonderful as their games had been before, he hadn’t expected anything quite as soul-satisfying as what he had finally allowed. Holding onto his silver-haired lover definitely fell into the category of ‘playing with fire.’ It made him remember the strange morning he had awoken to find his pain mysteriously gone, replaced with something he still couldn’t put into words. The general looked at his hand for a moment, realizing that it hadn’t been that long ago that simply getting out of bed had been a daily ordeal.
// And then I woke up… with him… and I felt like… well rather like this… //
Reaching out a hand, he hesitantly touched the silky mass of hair. Energized and yet peaceful, he felt like he could take on anything. He shook his head, realizing the foolishness of the thought.
// This is all his fault… //
“See what you do to me?” His whisper got no reply, Masa wasn’t about to wake up for anything less than a bombardment. Something in the curl of the slender fingers caught his eye. He freed the appendage from its tangle of sheets, carefully turning it palm-up into the light. Laro felt a little guilty at peeking, knowing his lover was stubborn about revealing the injury. He couldn’t help be a little worried. Looking down at the still-red line of injured skin, the soldier frowned slightly. Somehow he expected it to have healed further then it had.
// Maybe it’s just a trick of the light… //
The general ran a thumb over the puckered scab with a sigh before tucking the slender man back into the bed. “Sleep well, kitten.”
*****
The small column of soldiers and trucks had come to its weary end in the fields just beyond the small city, joining the camp already sprawling over the long grass. There was an unmistakable feeling of joy from the tired troops. After over a year out beyond the sight of civilization many of the hardened veterans looked longingly at the bustling market, waiting their turn to go into the city and be ordinary men again. College doctors were already moving among the tents, checking the wounded and carrying the most severe cases back to the city with them.
Gerrick watched the transport truck as it slowly crawled it way up to the castle. Its burden of injured men and medics tolerated the noisy ride without complaint. The morning was getting late. He scrubbed a hand through his hair and idly realized that he could take a bath before having to present himself at court. The novelty of being clean was enough to make him smile. It had been along time since either he or his men had had water enough to spare for things like a good long soak. Tired as his troops were, they still remembered to salute as he walked by one last time, checking, re-checking that camp was in order. When he had left the city he had been one of them, just another Lieutenant fresh out of training. He wasn’t stupid enough to forget that.
The thought made him look up at the castle again, wondering if the rumors were true. There had been no official word yet, but whispers traveled through the army about the return of a hero. His lip curled slightly at the idea.
// … The Great Kai has finally recovered… //
// Just what the war needs, a has-been. //
He kept his opinion to himself as he greeted the other officers and turned over the watch of his camp. He had wasted enough time. It was time to greet his king and receive his orders.
*****
“You remember how we discovered that the shards were power magnifiers?”
“Yeah… vaguely… I remember you had been working on a new weapon using them…” The general scratched his chin as he walked along side the Dean. As tall as a man, her long legs could cover a lot of ground when she wanted them to.
“Well the initial models have been in the field for a while now, Ibat’s army has over one hundred… the strength of the energy beam is in direct proportion to the size of the shard… but we’ve been trying to even that out a bit…”
“I see…” Laro nodded. “I remember some of those shards I recovered towards the end were mighty big though… you broke them up?”
“Some… but the others we’ve been… saving… we were having trouble, you see, in getting the proper focus for the beam over the larger surfaces.” Finlay held the door open, ushering him into a courtyard where a large machine on treads stood waiting for them.
“Hello… what is this?”
“Over the past weeks we’ve had something of a breakthrough, theoretically… and /this/ is the result.”
“… looks like a cannon.”
“Exactly so, but it hurls energy instead of steel balls…” She patted the shinny surface. “Our initial tests show that it has at least 200 times the attacking power of the smaller models, and that is without the fine-tuning it will get before you leave…”
“I get to have it?”
“You’re going to get three…” The dean gave him a long look. “Do realize however that between the three of them that you will now be responsible for the majority of shards currently in human possession… would you, Nazer-Kai?”
“Not exactly the sort of thing that can be left behind, you’re saying?”
“Yes… Rather.” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “I’d be interested in hearing however, if one of these fellows has any effect in say… a direct assault on a tower however… naturally if you can retrieve further shards, we will be very grateful here at the college… useful little things really.”
“Still pining after that ‘perfectly intact’ piece of crystal?”
“If we could just get an undamaged one, we might be able to determine how the Net is constructed… maybe pull it down…”
“Or build me a cannon the likes of which god has never seen…”
“Indeed.” The dean sighed, “You’ll be wanting to hear about the weight and mobility and the like, I’ll get one of the students to give you all the papers.”
Leaving the dark man to pace around his new toy, she stuffed her hands into the pockets of her coat and went to fetch the engineers. She has meant to tell him, but it had seemed silly to mention it. Surely the Kai already knew that the cannon and the rest of the strides the college had made were all because of his impossibly clever lover. He had seemed surprised at the weapon however, genuinely unaware that large assault cannon was possible. She wondered again just how much Mr. Kuja told his guardian about what he did in the college every day. Dean Finlay felt a little guilty at her part the unintended deception. The general often asked her how his companion was spending his time. She had just always given some simple answer, assuming that the man would know what ‘research’ meant.
Shrugging she rested in a convenient shadow as she watched her students flock to the Kai and demonstrate how to activate and steer the large weapon across the courtyard. He seemed more than willing to leave all the credit for the machine in their hands, and watching him she realized that everyone else would likely do the same. It wasn’t right. Resolved to bring the issue up with the inventor himself, she ducked back into a classroom.
“You, you’re one of the heat-equation boys… where is Mr. Kuja?” A senior researcher looked up from his model building with a jerk, surprised at the sudden question.
“He usually doesn’t come until after lunch…”
“When he does, tell him I’d like to see him.”
*****
Kuja woke to find someone, probably Laro, had sent up a breakfast tray. He frowned, not remembering anyone coming in. He couldn’t even remember waking up for his lover’s departure. Given how tired he felt, it wasn’t that much of a surprise. His body ached insistently, the sour flavor in his throat also a reminder that all was not as it should be. Somehow the cat-man navigated himself to the small table, feeling much better after he had swallowed the majority of the juice, and began making inroads in the tea. Fluids were easier to deal with by far then the rest of the little breakfast. Deciding to be daring, he risked a slice of toast. Mornings were the hardest, whenever he could he tried to simply not eat at all. It was easier to wait until lunch when he felt more settled, or at the least half starved. By then the risk of being ill was out weighed by the simple fact that if he didn’t eat he would probably pass out. He had never been a heavy eater, so long as he had one decent meal a day he refused to worry too much. Between the experiments at the college, the intrigues at court, and the grim countdown until Laro’s departure he mused that he had more than enough stress to justify the occasional nausea.
// The problem with sending me a tray… is that I’m obliged to eat /something/ or else people will worry… //
It would be difficult to explain why he had ignored a perfectly good breakfast in his room to forage for himself down in the dining halls. If there was one thing he still missed about his old secluded palace under the desert, it was that the clockwork servants never gossiped behind his back. In reality, there would have been no one for them to gossip to, even if they had the desire. He had always been alone there.
// Well except that time that Zidane’s little friends tore through the place like a plague… but that was inevitable I suppose. //
Choosing not to think of the past, he moved to start his day as best he could. Questions about Gaia, even questions about last night and whether it had matched the soldier’s expectations, would find no answers today. As usual he was left to his own devices while Laro planned for battle. He couldn’t help but feel run-down even as he walked the quiet halls to his habitual morning meetings. The knock was formality, but it gave him a moment to pull his thoughts out of their sleepy haze. He nodded to the servant that held open the door and stepped inside the sunny room.
“Good morning, my lord.”
“Almost afternoon, Mr. Kuja… and you still look tired. Are you ill?”
“Perhaps a little, your grace… I stayed up later than usual last night.” His smile came easily as he found his rhythm for the day. Spending the morning as companion to the elderly duke was an enjoyable way of seeing life at court. The sharp-eyed man was a pleasure to watch at work and for his part seemed happy to have an appreciative audience for his master manipulations.
Despite the old noble’s complaints about the hour, Kuja saw that he too was just finishing his breakfast, or perhaps it was brunch. More alike than either of them would admit, the duke never seemed terribly keen on early meals. If anything, he kept later hours then Laro, carefully managing the court and the politics of war until well into the night. The genome wondered if the old man simply didn’t sleep sometimes, it was impossible to say. Leaning over the small sideboard, he helped himself to a bunch of grapes.
“Has the army arrived?”
“Very late last night… but in good shape and all accounted for. Tea, Mr. Kuja?”
“Please.” Amused by the top most of the scattered reports on the coffee table, he settled into a corner of the couch to read. He spared a smile for the servant when a cup and saucer were set near by. “… Cornel Gerrik will get his promotion after all… although I doubt it’ll soften the blow…”
“He’ll be formally debriefed before the council in an hour or so… I would be interested in your insights if you could spare the time to attend…”
“You know I am always at your complete disposal, your grace.”
“Ah, flatterer…” The old man smiled in amusement. “No wonder why the Kai keeps you close by.”
“I do not flatter Laro… He finds it… uncomfortable.” Kuja traded one war report for another, rapidly catching up with his friend. “His general fault seems to be ‘honesty’ after all… My poor Nazer-Kai is not an excellent liar.”
“No, that is not a skill we’ve ever been able to beat into him.” The duke smiled again. “Not for lack of trying, mind you…”
“I should have liked to have seen /that/…” His teasing comment earned him another laugh.
“Enough of troops, Mr. Kuja, those decisions are already made by king and council… if you would consider the two reports about the merchant houses and unfair competition however, I would be open to a suggestion… for my part I’m inclined to just fine both sides and be done with it.”
“That is likely the best solution, but I can see if I can divine if are other possibilities…”
*****
The debriefing went better than he could have hoped. He looked around the half circle of lords and army advisors for any clue that they were displeased with his performance. All the wounded men made it back to the capital, and ahead of schedule, they couldn’t have anything to complain about.
The cornel had been surprised to note that Nazer-kai was not present. Rumors had been confirmed as soon as he had arrived at the castle. The new companies preparing for departure, and any veterans returning to the front would do so under the general’s banner. It wasn’t his first choice to serve the ‘war hero’, but he was pragmatic enough to know that it would likely be little different from serving under Ibat-kai. The man had to have /some/ talent, or he would have never been appointed ‘kai’ in the first place. The question was, had any of that skill remained after a year of isolation from the war.
“Cornel Clay Gerrik…”
“Yes sir.” He noticed for the first time as he saluted that there was a stranger seated in the Duke Riquoi’s shadow. Almost feminine in his beauty, he was probably just another of the old man’s secretaries. The pale courtier was still enough to almost distract him as the duke began to speak. He forced his mind back on business.
“… As is your due after the last three campaigns, it is our pleasure to inform you that you will be receiving a promotion.”
“… I will…? I mean, thank you, your grace.”
The old man’s smile held no joy in it. “You are now a general, sir… Only one star, but it is a position of respect… and as such you will be reassigned to duties here at the capital of strategic importance to the army’s future well being.”
// … reassigned… to the capital? // He blinked, too stunned to believe it. // I’m not going back out…? //
“It’s quite fortunate for you, that this position opened up… most men would kill for the chance to stay where things are civilized…”
// … That’s ridiculous… I’m no bureaucrat… Am I being punished...? //
He found himself saluting again, formality dictating that he could say nothing but acceptance to the unwanted duties. All he could do was watch as the statesman leaned back a little and murmured to his secretary. The new general felt ill at how he was being shifted around, an unwanted piece on the board. Clay couldn’t help but speak up, knowing he would be scolded. “With all do respect, your grace… Nazer-kai will need all the veteran officers he can muster… I /know/ the land… the movements of the enemy… wouldn’t I be more useful…”
“Are you volunteering for another trip to the front, General Gerrik?”
“… yes sir?”
“Only madmen, zealots, or glory-hounds willfully through themselves into danger when instructed not to, general… which are you?”
The rest of the council was frozen, obviously taking their lead from the old nobleman. Even the king wouldn’t look him in the eye, choosing instead to fuss with his sleeve instead. “… none, your grace… I just…”
“I understand the need to be useful, general. Please have a
little patience, your time will come.”
“Yes sir.”
Knowing a dismissal when he heard one, he bowed and left the stuffy room. His stomach twisted in sour, angry knots. Experience and commitment apparently meant nothing in the face of the Great Kai’s cult-of-personality. He was to be quietly brushed aside to make room for the higher-ranked general’s return to the Line. The chance to finally prove himself was never going to come. Clay clenched his jaw, refusing to believe that he could be relegated to the sidelines so easily.
// Damn them… It’s not fair! //
Turning the corner only to be confronted with the Great Kai himself, the soldier almost swore. Luckily no one noticed his arrival. The group of officers only had eyes for their commander, ignoring him completely. The dark general was talking calmly about reorganizing the supply lines, his back to the shadow that Clay had slipped into. For a crazy minute, he wanted to somehow reach out and /hurt/ the man, at least call out and tell him what an imposter he was. Keeping his anger in check, he chose instead to keep walking, venting his frustrations by getting lost in the twisting halls of the castle and college.
// Can’t go back to the camp, it’s not mine any more… they’ve probably already assigned me a room here… bastards. //
The new emblem on his chest hung heavy on the fabric. Looking down he marveled that it was still the small silver twist that marked him as his new rank. It might as well have been a badge marking him a leper.
*****
The ‘testing’ courtyard, unlike the others around the college was unpaved. Instead of brick or marble there was just well beaten dirt. Kuja looked at the various ruts and scorch marks and could easily guess why. The area had obviously seen the worst of some of the large experiments the students worked on. Given the weapons he had helped the scientists construct, it was no wonder that the courtyard didn’t have a back-wall. The narrow yard opened directly onto a fenced in bit of field, just as scorched as the rest of the area.
Feeling tired, he settled himself on a convenient crate as the engineers wheeled their greatest ‘treasure’ into the center of the yard. The sight of it still gave him chills. Easily seven feet at the top, the inky black shell was held in place with a rough iron frame work. Much like Laro’s armor it seemed to have life even when nothing more than chitin and wire. There were strange holes along the top and sides, places for the absent head and limbs to attach to the body. Some brave soldier had defeated the monstrous drone in such a way as to leave the carapace intact. The shell was hollow now. A hollow target for the new weapons the college was inventing. Should they succeed in damaging the thick surface, another piece could be wired onto the frame to take its place.
He had seen the storeroom where the extras were kept, getting a feel for the first time what it would be like to stand surrounded by the giant insects. It was no wonder his friend wasn’t looking forward to returning to the battle. Even dead there was an air of menace about the Selwe. Kuja rubbed his face, forcing himself to stay awake. Lunch had come and gone in the duke’s company. He wondered if Laro had remembered to eat.
“Mr. Kuja, should we start the test?” Shaking him from his daze, the voice made him look over as the complex array of mirrors and fuel was set into position.
“All set then?” He didn’t have the heart to tell them that their new energy weapon would likely have no effect. The aliens seemed perfectly adapted to high temperatures. His students were insistent that their new equations were able to produce more heat than ever, and disagreeing would have taken more commitment than he was willing to muster.
They would do a few tests, but he knew that the shell wasn’t going to show any changes. The best that could be hoped for the weapon would be that in the field it would manage to cook what was inside the shell, and there was precious little chance of proving /that/ outside of combat. Kuja watched them do their final aiming before waving them ahead.
“Fire at will, or something.”
Less flashy then the other prototypes, there was little visible in the way of ‘attack’ from the make-shift cannon. It was faster to warm-up then the others, but that was really the best he could say for it. For a long minute they watched as the air around the black shell shivered with heat. Just at he suspected the armor itself was singularly un-reactive. Heat wasn’t the answer they were looking for. Not on the scale that the college was able to produce at any rate.
// … I could introduce the idea of atomic energy… but that’s a recipe for disaster. //
His history lessons from Terra had given him a healthy respect for the amount of damage careless tinkering with matter could result in. The Terrans had gone from primitive energy-harnessing to actually altering the nature of reactive metals, gradually tying science and magic in new and more destructive ways. One of the outgrowths of their knowledge was the ability to merge worlds; another had been the magic ‘Ultima’ which used to reside beneath Kuja’s fingertips.
// The power to shatter the very bones of the universe… maybe it’s better that it stays sealed off… //
He wondered idly if his brother or sister also knew the secret, or if it was truly his alone. With most of Terra’s wisdom destroyed, there would not be a chance for anyone else to discover the nature of the spell. Not that Zidane needed it his own attacks were powerful enough.
// And their power came from the
The
“It’s… really hot!” Two of the more adventurous engineers were able to get within a few feet of the shell, shielding their faces with their sleeves as the inspected it. The rest stood a healthy distance back.
The cat-man was impressed, but not enough to move. “Someone have a thermometer? Are there any signs of cracks or peeling?”
“No… the carapace is still intact… pity that.”
“Try and take a reading, and then I think we’re done for the day.”
“Yes sir…” Disappointed, the group set about dismantling their weapon, leaving the shell alone to cool off.
“We should have put a bucket of water in between the shells and seen how hot the center got…” Several of the young men nodded in agreement. The opportunity had passed for today, but they could always try again.
He stood up, stretching in preparation of following the prototype back to the design hall when several of the students tromped past with buckets. Tired enough that it took a moment to understand their intent, Kuja only had enough time to think to utter a warning before the men lazily splashed the water onto the scorching hot surface. Instead of boiling into steam, the fluid vanished with a sound akin to an explosion. Thick shell shattered like broken glass as a gust of hot air bloomed outwards catching students, splinters of chitin, buckets, benches and crates up hard against the walls.
*****
“Dean Finlay…” The urgent interruption caught the gray-haired woman before she could reply to his greeting. Laro turned, curious to see the harried looking student so far his usual haunts. State dinners were usually tediously formal affairs and avoided by the younger researchers if it could be helped.
“What.”
“… There’s been an accident…”
“What?” Forgetting what ever scolding she had been about to say, the dean set down her drink. “Where?”
“Testing ground two, one of the dummies Mr. Kuja’s team was working on /exploded/…”
“Exp… impossible… Is anyone hurt?”
// … ‘Masa’s group’ since when did he have a group? //
“Four, including Mr. Kuja… someone else is getting the doctor but he wanted to speak to you… said it was urgent…”
Laro didn’t wait for her reply, already moving past them to move quickly to the door. Finlay swore a remarkably unlady like oath and followed as quickly as was polite in the crowd. “Make excuses for us.”
Fidgeting nervously with his scorched robe, the student gingerly began searching for the Duke.
*****
// What’s gone and set fire to /his/ boots… //
Deliberately seeking the peace and quiet at the edge of the crowded room, the young general was in a perfect position to see the Kai’s sudden departure. Curious, he waited until the dean had passed him as well before moving to follow. The gossip at court was interesting, but this seemed more important. Nazer-kai had always been something of an eccentric among the warlords. It only seemed to have gotten worse since his return.
// Walking out on meetings, hand picking his officers, jumping at shadows… and what is this about talking a /boy/ courtesan for his lover…? Shameful… criminal even… and we trust this man to ‘save’ us? Ridiculous… //
He picked his way easily through the college’s burrow-like sections, remembering his own time as a student well enough. After the first few turns he could guess where they were going, and it only made him wonder more. Such hurry over the testing grounds could only mean some amazing breakthrough, or a substantial accident had just taken place.
// Or knowing the engineers, a little of both… //
The smell of scorched shell was startling so far from the front lines. It reminded him of what he was giving up even as it made him cough and shield his face. He took only a minute to appreciate the way the heavy oak doors had been blown inwards, the latch broken to splinters by the force of whatever had taken place outside. Clay bent to pick up a shard of what was unmistakably a Selwe’s armored outer-skin, only to halt himself. Inches away, the heat was enough to scald his fingers. He nudged it with a boot instead, noting it was embedded deep enough into the doorframe as to not budge under the gentle pressure.
// … interesting… //
He took his time to look around, noticing the windswept look of the yard. Mentally he tallied up the fragments of shell until he could believe that an entire target dummy was either scattered about the small space or blown into the field beyond. A pair of doctors was already at work on one of the students. The other two seemed merely stunned, resting against the wall and looking around as if trying to puzzle out what had just happened. Nazer-kai and the dean were helping a fourth victim upright, the general all but cradling the smaller man as the woman questioned him.
Even with the dirt and bloody nose, there was something familiar about the battered scholar. The soldier blinked, recognizing the incredibly pale colored hair – now in wild disarray – as being the same as the rumors, and the same as the stranger’s from the council session. He swore, realizing that the secretary, the scientist, and the Kai’s scandalous paramour were all one and the same.
// /That/ is Kuja…? //
There was no mistaking the careful way the older general held the man. It would have been touching if it had been a girl. For a moment he wondered if maybe ‘Mr. Kuja’ wasn’t a girl in disguise after all. The question of why anyone would bother begged to be asked.
Whatever the man was saying, it did seem to get the dean’s attention. Finlay listened for several minutes before getting up to make her own inspection of the shell, or what was left of it. Clay shook his head, making himself useful by hauling the two scratched students upright and following the first doctor back to the hospital wing. He had seen enough to satisfy momentary curiosity; to stay longer would force him to justify how he had found out about the accident.
// Just who /are/ you… Kuja… and what is /your/ part in all of this… are you the duke’s pawn? The Kai’s toy? The dean’s pet? And why is it that nobody seems to know where you come from… How ironic if the general’s pretty little page turns out to be a spy… //
*****
*****
ah sweet politics…
-Lunar