Gifts Part 3: Years 3227 to 3231

by JoAnn

See Part 0 for the Disclaimer and related information

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Year 3227

Reaching For a Dream

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Turning over in his bed, Lance whacks his pillow in frustration. *Why? Why can’t I _remember_? Every night, I wake up feeling as though there’s this great big hole next to me, that something is supposed to be there that isn’t...*

Grumbling softly to himself, he shifts around until he’s comfortable again. *I still can’t believe I signed up for that class in hand-to-hand. Or that war history class...* Falling back into troubled dreams, nonetheless he sleeps soundly. He’s gotten used to restless nights.

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His face a mask, the boy regards the sheet of requirements impassively.

Smugly assured of his righteousness, despite the lack of acknowledgment, Counselor Katou continues. “You see, Keith? There’s no way for you to fulfill the requirements in time to be accepted into the preparatory school. It’d be better to wait and then try to be accepted into the Academy without the prep school, rather than trying for the prep school and failing. Better yet, forget this notion you have of going to the Academy and just go to the Temple.”

Eyes glittering, Keith Shimada seems to disregard Katou’s words. “If I obtain a Master’s rank in these three disciplines, would that overcome my late start in the minds of the committee?”

Sputtering, Katou blurts out the first thing to come to mind. “Of course. But that’s impossible --”

Keith, not looking at the counselor, nods his head firmly. “Thank you for your time.” Bowing politely, he leaves.

Counselor Katou is left gaping at a closed door. Shaking himself, he gathers his composure so he can deal with the next student.

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Year 3227

A Meeting of Minds

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Pidge stalks his way through the campus, head down, disgusted. Everyone he meets persists in treating him like a child. *Damnit! I may be young. I may be short. But I'm in no way a _child_.* Not looking where he's going, he slams into a body. Without thinking, he arranges his face in a 'Don't hurt me' look as he tilts his head up. "I'm sorry--" Eyes widening, Pidge takes in the largest guy he's ever seen. As their eyes meet, Pidge feels a ~frission~ of energy throughout his body. *What the hell?*

"My fault." The quiet, deep, rumbling voice sends shivers down Pidge's spine. "I wasn't looking where I was going..." *He feels -- good.*

Pidge smiles involuntarily. "Neither was I." *I can at least pretend he doesn't look at me and see a child...* "My name's Pidge." Tensing slightly, smile fading, Pidge waits for the inevitable questions. 'Pidge who?' and 'What are you doing here?'

Instead, the tall guy just gifts him with an all to brief smile of heart-stopping sweetness. "I'm Hunk. Pleased ta meet ya." He offers his hand carefully to Pidge.

Startled, Pidge smiles happily, accepting Hunk's hand. "You going to lunch? I am.." *Idiot, idiot. How can you sound so inane...?*

Hunk's eyes light up in laughter. "Yes, I'm going to lunch. And, I'd like your company." Deep inside, Hunk feels light soaking into the dark places. *I feel whole with this Pidge...* His mind shies away from just why he felt incomplete before.

Relaxing, for a moment, all they do is hold hands and smile into each other's eyes. Then, reluctantly, they let go and head to the cafeteria.

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Year 3228

Shades of what will be

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Once safe in his single room, Lance collapses on his bunk. *Kami-sama, it’s so hard to keep everything under control. At least now, I’ve adjusted enough that I’m not mis-stepping so much.*

Stretching carefully, he shifts in bed to a more comfortable position. *I still don’t understand what I’m doing. All of this leads to the Academy... I never wanted to be in the military...* Sighing in disgust as his Sixth Sense reassures him that he _is_ on the right path, he turns over, falling into troubled dreams. *I still feel as though something is missing...*

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Black eyes blazing, the youngling flawlessly executes the kata. Turning to face his instructor, he bows. Overtly, there is respect. Overtly, there is nothing to call the teenager on. But the set of his body shows his contempt. Just enough so that he can’t be chastised without the instructor appearing ridiculous.

Neck veins beginning to bulge, his instructor growls out to him to do the next level.

Barely held back gasps are felt in the other students. The most advanced stiffens in outrage, and begins to protest. “Sensei, he can’t possibly know --”

And he is cut off, mouth hanging open, as the youngster calmly flows into the next level kata.

This time, he doesn’t stop at the end of that kata. Eyes firmly fixed on an imaginary enemy, he serenely flows from one kata to the next, until he finishes them all.

Eyes widening and then narrowing, at the end, the instructor inclines his head in respect, and doesn’t protest when the youngster gathers up his gear and leaves, as silently as he came.

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Year 3230

Paying the Price

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"Hunk! This is an order. Get back into formation! Hunk!"

Pidge first listens to this in amusement. Taking in the odds, and then the peculiar positioning of the 'fleeing' Drule fighters, Pidge feels a dawning horror. *They're taunting him. It's some sort of trap.* Calling on more of his Gift than he ever has before, Pidge becomes one with his fighter. He feels the fatigue, but also the instant willingness of the craft to do anything for him. Pooling their combined energy, Pidge hurtles to where Hunk is, disregarding the frantic orders of their CO. *I'm not gonna let anything happen to Hunk...*

"Hunk!" Through his connection to his fighter, Pidge can feel the same fatigue and willingness in Hunk's fighter as is in his own. He can also feel that right now, all Hunk knows is that there are Drules in front of him. Pidge tries again.

"Hunk! Damnit, listen to me. Don't waste one of my fighters..." *Hunk!*

Slowly, Hunk surfaces. *Matt? No --* "Pidge?" *Not the same, but better...*

"Yeah, big guy, it's me. What do you say to going in, for repair and refueling, to fight again another day...?" *Stay with me. Don’t leave me alone too.*

"'Kay. Whatever you say, little buddy..." *I won’t leave you alone...* Hunk can feel a the new brightness in his soul reaching out and anchoring him even as he anchors it. *Not it. Him. Pidge. We’re bonded. Like--* Not able to face those thoughts, Hunk’s concentration focuses back on piloting.

The two fighters make their way back to base, while an ominously silent command craft paces them.

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"Pidge. Since you demonstrated the ability to get through to Hunk, you will be held responsible for calling Hunk to order. Is that clear?"

Hiding their amusement behind masks of calm, they both bow, though Pidge is the one to answer.

"Yessir."

"Very well. Dismissed."

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"Pidge! Call him back, now!"

"If we break off now, they'll still be able to..."

"Call him back!"

Snarling, Pidge deliberately cuts the channel.

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"Pidge. You were supposed to keep control of Hunk. Instead, you joined him, unchecked, in throwing yourself into battle."

"Sir --"

"Such insubordination will not be tolerated. You will be reassigned to a different wing, and you will move out of your current quarters. Immediately."

Two unreadable faces regard the general before them.

Quailing inside, still, the general refuses to back down.

Finally, they salute, very precisely. "Yessir." And they turn and leave.

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"Hunk!" The CO all but screams. "Get back to base, now!"

Disregarding the voice he hears only with his ears, Hunk snarls fiercely as he rushes toward the mass of Drulian fighters.

On the other edge of the battle formation, Pidge smiles coldly as he does exactly as his CO commands. No more and no less.

"Hunk! Return to base or you _will_ be fired upon." Still, Hunk continues onward. Snarling himself, the CO aims his weaponry at the rouge fighter, the rest of the squadron following suit. Abruptly, the rogue turns and begins to attack the Alliance ships.

"Shit!"

The Drulian ships slow their retreat and watch in almost palpable amusement as the lone fighter decimates the formerly precise ranks.

Finally... "Pidge!"

"Yessir." The tone is completely devoid of emotion, but the leisurely way Pidge's craft makes its way to the site of devastation eloquently displays his smugness.

"Hunk." *Hunk.* Spoken clearly, the single word stops the mad craft in mid-flight.

"Pidge?"

"Let's go back to base, big guy."

Docily, Hunk's craft tails Pidge's into the base.

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Gritting his teeth, General Hayashi accepts the communiqué from his counterpart.

Yellow-slit eyes dancing in good humor, the blue-skinned alien shows his teeth. "Having a few problems?"

Face tightening involuntarily, the general just barely keeps from snarling. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Why, just, ah, wanted to comment on the last battle. Especially the end of it..."

An incoherent, strangled sound of pure rage escapes the general's throat before the signal cuts off.

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Impassively, Pidge and Hunk stand under the weight of the general's gaze.

"You two want to be thrown out?"

Just as calmly, Pidge answers for both of them. "No. But -- you should have been able to predict the consequences. You said yourself I was the only one who can call Hunk back." A cold, hungry glitter rises in Pidge's eyes. "Whatever you want to lay on us, we refuse to do anything less than our best at _hurting_ the Drules. So long as we're together. Even if it means insubordination."

The general's mouth tightens as he hears the unspoken threat. 'You try and ground us, and we'll go off on our own..' *And anyone else but these two could be locked out...* Snarling, he concedes and waves them out of his sight.

Exquisitely polite, both bow, and move, in sync, out the door.

General Hayashi watches them, murderous rage smoldering in his eyes. *I have to find some way of getting rid of them...*

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Pidge’s eyes flare in outrage. “What.” The single word is spoken in a flat and deadly tone.

It, however, has no apparent effect on the man before him. Smiling thinly in triumph, General Hayashi deliberately laces his fingers together. “I thought I was perfectly clear. The two of you, because of your peculiar mix of Gifts and the way you work together, are perfectly suited to this type of mission.”

Hunk growls threateningly, as Pidge clamps his mouth shut on obscenities. “It’s a suicide mission.”

Cold eyes flash in deeper amusement. “Now, now. It’s not like you’re expected to destroy the source of the new weapons. Just figure out where they come from.”

Sputtering, Pidge manages to regain control of his tongue. Sort of. “But all manufacturing occurs deep in Drulian territory! And it’s not like they’re going to be exactly welcoming of Alliance ships poking around there!”

The thin smile widens. Silkily, he closes the trap on them. “You brought up the similarities in the style of the new weapons. You brought up the fact that it was always a precise time period between a burst of manufacture and the deployment of a new weapon. You noticed the pattern, so it’s to be expected that you would be the most likely to find the source.” Unspoken is the thought, *You found the problem, you get to fix it.* Malice shows brightly in his eyes. “Since, as you said, where one of you goes, so goes the other -- there’s no reason why Hunk shouldn’t go with you. To help. Especially since both of you are such a good team.”

Stiff in outrage, trapped, all they can do is growl their acquiescence.

Eyes glittering in cold delight, Hayashi dismisses them.

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Shaking in anger, Pidge can barely see as he stalks down the hallway. He can feel Hunk as a huge, comforting shadow at his shoulder. The palpable fury surrounding them is more than enough to clear people from their path.

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Hunk watches the pacing and cursing figure before him. Glancing at the time, he frowns slightly. *Pidge doesn’t seem to be winding down any. And we’re coming short on time. I think it’s time to distract him.* “Pidge?”

Startled, the small figure stops mid-pace and mid-curse to turn to his bondmate. “Yeah?”

“It’s a test. And not from that idiot.”

Blinking in puzzlement, Pidge stares at Hunk.

Patiently, Hunk waits for the connections to be made.

Pidge’s eyes widen in shock. “Hayashi didn’t believe us when we mentioned the pattern. And he doesn’t think in terms of intelligence gathering...”

“If he actually did happen upon the idea, he would have ordered us to take care of it as well as locate it.”

Pidge slowly starts to smile. “Whereas, someone who actually looked at our profiles..”

“Would have just sent us to recon. As we are ordered to.”

“And, this unknown person would go through Hayashi because he or she wants to know what we’re made of. If we’re just lucky or actually good, though strange.”

Hunk nods. “So, if we make it back alive --”

“We’ll get transferred.”

“No matter what, after three years, we’ll get a transfer.”

“And if we succeed -- we might end up somewhere where they’ll let us _be_”

Hunk nods.

Pidge shakes his head in amazement. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

Hunk shrugs. “You looked like you needed to let loose some steam.”

Pidge laughs. “Okay. We gotta plan this out properly now...”

Hunk grins as his bondmate finally starts thinking about the problem of the mission, rather than the injustice of it.

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After a frenzy of planning, the two of them curl up together in bed.

“Hunk? I think this is gonna be good for us, once we got our bolthole.” Resting on top of his bondmate, Pidge tucks his head under Hunk’s, absently nuzzling his throat.

“Mm?” Hunk slowly and gently strokes Pidge’s hair and down his back, feeling the muscles soften even further under his touch.

“We’ll have time and peace to heal each other. Grow strong together, so the darkness can’t ever take us alone...” Pidge’s voice trails off into sleep, breathing gently on Hunk’s neck.

Shocked at the ease at which Pidge saw straight to his deepest fear, Hunk just clutches Pidge closer. Relief mingles with his surprise. *He won’t make me live alone...*

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Year 3230

Changing State

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Staring at his roommate, Keith feels his anger building. *Enough is enough. I’m going to be a Warrior. I refuse to take this.* Mouth firming, his senses become almost painfully acute as he readies himself for battle.

“You copied my homework.”

Shigure’s lip lifts in scorn at the quiet, unassuming tone. “Yes, I did. It’s the responsibility of roommates to help each other out.”

Lifting his eyes to meet Shigure’s, he feels his anger coiling into a cold-hot knot in his stomach. “I don’t need your help. You aren’t going to pass your classes by using me.”

Eyes narrowing, Shigure surges out of his sprawl, attempting to pin him in a show of strength. Instead, Shigure finds himself on the floor, gasping for air.

A cold, soft voice penetrates Shigure’s gasps. “Don’t use anything of mine. Ever.” Threat hanging unspoken in the air, he calmly steps around his roommate to sit at his desk.

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Year 3231

A Fateful Meeting

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Taking a deep breath, 17-year-old Lance Ishida keeps his head up as he enters the Academy. Moving swiftly, he manages to make it to his room without mishap or too much notice, and collapses there, shaking. *Kami! _Everyone_ here seems dangerous to me. I wish I knew more about why I ought to be here...*

A soft clearing of a throat causes him to fall comically off the bed.

*What the-- How did I not notice someone else with me? I _always_ know when someone’s around me, especially a guy...*

Lance looks up from the floor to see a boy about the same age as him, who is as still as a statue. Longish, messy black hair and huge black eyes are the only physical features that distinguish the kid from any other cadet. Those -- plus the calmness that surrounds him are more than enough to brand him as ‘different’. Somehow, while he loses himself in the black depths of those eyes, Lance feels the utter certainty this boy is why he worked so hard to get into the Academy.

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Hearing the door slide open, Keith automatically shifts so he can study his new roommate. *Huh. This is not promising.* Keeping as still as he knows how, Keith evaluates the newcomer. Severely cut brown hair, brown eyes, sharp face, and a whipcord body that moves smoothly through space. *He looks almost exactly like every other cadet. And he’s ignoring me just like the rest of them. Looks like he and I are going to have trouble until he finds someone else to room with.* Sighing internally, Keith decides to force the issue. Clearing his throat to be sure his voice is strong after hours of not speaking, Keith stops before a word is spoken, startled by the clear surprise in his roommate’s actions. *Maybe I’m wrong.* Looking in the boy’s stunned eyes, Keith can feel himself warming to him. *This is not good. I wish my danger-sense worked on males...* Giving himself over to trust, Keith extracts himself from the chair he’s in and offers his roommate a hand.

“Hello. I’m Keith Shimada, your roommate.”

“Hi.” The new cadet smiles shyly at Keith as he accepts Keith’s help in getting to his feet.

*He has a beautiful smile... And it doesn’t seem fake at all. Gotta remember how easily he hid himself...*

“I’m Lance Ishida. And if I’d known I could get away with long hair, I wouldn’t have visited the barber yesterday...”

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For the first time in a long time, Lance sleeps untroubled, without waking in the night, searching for what was missing.

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Keith is bemused to wake up after a peaceful night. Usually, whenever he has a roommate, he’s too edgy to rest well.


Any comments or suggestions for JoAnn should be sent through me with either the story title or JoAnn in the subject line. I'll forward them without peeking. Really I will.

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