Here you'll find

 

Mount Robillard

 

 

 

 

11. A Past

Scott padded down the corridor, somewhat cautiously but head held high. He felt very proud of himself: this was the very first time he had ventured out of his and Lancer's room without his ever-present partner. Oh yes, sure he had returned there from the flight simulators a while ago all by himself, but now he had actually gone out alone.

His blood still hummed in his veins after the long, intense, sweaty training session against a considerable number of opponents, and he felt too excited to stay in one place. Training, even with the simulator, was such a tough job and he had such a lot to learn. He had to learn how to take into account the wildly varying capacities of other planes in his fleet. He needed to be able to identify each of them at a glance. And he had to learn each pilot's little idiosyncracies something he'd never before had to bother his head with.

But there also was another, even more difficult thing: all the time he was going against everything he'd been taught throughout his young life. He was not only learning to fly with the rebels, he was actually teaching them the various battle procedures drilled into his fellow clones so that in battle they'd be better able to anticipate moves and fight back.

Scott felt definite unease at his own betrayal, and at the same time he found himself profoundly thrilled whenever he, taking the role of a Union SC fleet commander, was roundly beaten by a colorful bunch of rebel pilots. He had taught them how to do it, how to turn a disadvantaged position into a resounding victory, how to keep their losses at a minimum while inflicting maximum damage on their enemy. He, a clone, was teaching them how to kill other clones.

Scott swallowed, suddenly feeling very uneasy. His fists clenched. No, he was helping people who cared for him. There was no other way. The clones were his fellows, true, but they wanted to kill everybody in this base.

Not true, Scott corrected himself. They didn't know what exactly they were doing. They were only following orders given by the Union masters. His friends were degen no, rebels, and he should have been out there too, giving his everything to wipe them out. But there was no way in hell (Scott snickered, pleased with himself to have mastered another new expression) he would be doing that anymore.

These people were something he'd never had before: they were his friends. They had opened him literally new worlds. And then of course there was Lancer.

Scott stopped to think. The emotions that the pearly-blond young man awakened in him were a real challenge to deal with, but Scott was not one to shun away from challenges. He smiled to himself. It was not only the physical pleasure of making love, overwhelming and fascinating as it was. He found it very interesting to explore the scope of sensations one simple touch alone could evoke, the unimaginably many nuances of pleasure and delight one could feel with another person.

Lancer was fun. He was sensitive and playful and compassionate at the same time. Sometimes his eyes flashed with pure steel. He loved cuddling. He liked to crack subtle jokes and then wait, the tiniest hint of a smirk on his lips, how long it would take before the others detected he was making fun of something.

All of a sudden Scott felt a compelling need to find Lancer. When he'd come back from the simulators he had found a message saying that Lancer had been summoned by the Commanders to the AD gun level. No, there was no battle to prepare for, he just needed to get acquainted with some enhancements with which Corinn and the twins had adorned his AD gun. He'd be right back as soon as he could.

So Scott had taken a quick shower and stepped out of the door, all alone if for nothing else, then to prove himself he could do it. But now the corridor really felt far bigger, the base much larger than ever before; and despite having grown a respectable four centimeters, Scot felt very small and exposed standing there in the middle of it. He trembled. He needed to find Lancer now, to see those eyes creased with a smile and to hug the slim body close. Then he'd know for sure that he was doing the right thing.

It didn't do to panic like this! Scott leaned against a wall and closed his eyes. He needed to calm down. Wait, what had he just thought? That hugging Lancer would make him feel better? Yes, that was it! He smiled. He had indeed managed to turn upside down one of the strongest inhibitions that the Union had planted in him: physical closeness was no more something revolting, now it was something he thoroughly enjoyed. And right now he needed it. So, to be orderly and logical, he needed a plan.

Scott wanted to go and find Lancer. He knew where Lancer was, but he didn't know how to go there. No reason to panic. Who could tell the way? Lancer's friends, of course. And where could one most probably find them? In the aircraft hangars and Scott sure knew how to get there! He brightened up and headed towards the hangars with renewed purpose. Of course it was getting rather late already, but it was worth a try.

"Oi! Scottie! Where're you going?"

Scott turned and saw Fonzo and Corinn waving to him a little further away, and changed course.

"I thought I might find somebody in the aircraft hangars."

"What? Has Lancer abandoned you?"

Corinn frowned playfully and Fonzo punched him on the shoulder.

"Moron, don't you remember they were going to see the higher-power AD guns? The ones you rigged yourself?"

"That is right," Scott nodded and looked hopefully at the men, head cocked. "What will you do now? May I come with you for some time? I feel lonely."

"Of course you can!" Fonzo grinned, was about to hug him before having second thoughts and waving a jovial hand instead. "Be our guest. We'll keep you excellent company until Lancer's free again."

"What shall we do?" Scott followed the two men towards their shared room. Corinn grinned.

"You're going to have a real treat!" he announced and opened the door beckoning Scott in. "You see, we were going to have some snacks " Fonzo presented a large bowl, seemingly out of nowhere, and placed it on the small table. "And then we'll watch a video, and be royally entertained!"

Corinn busied himself with the equipment and Scott sat on the bed peering at them expectantly.

"What is it then?" he asked, curious.

"It's called a drag show," Fonzo explained. "They are very popular around here, and Jainah has the best drag shows anywhere! Especially Trellissac, the nearest city, and very very especially a place called 'Chez Maurice'. Don't ask me if that's supposed to mean something, but anyway, that place is great."

"Drag?" Scott's well-defined dark eyebrows furrowed deeper. "What do they drag?"

"It's just called that," Corinn laughed. "I dunno why. It means that the performers are men, but they are made to look like women."

"Why? Would it not be better then to have women performing?"

"It's part of the performance how good they are at being women, plus how well they sing and dance, and all that stuff. You'll see. This is from Chez Maurice, and that place is super. Cool. Classy. Just watch and enjoy, I know you like music!"

Corinn sprawled on the floor and flicked the player on. The screen came to life, it brightened gradually to reveal a stylish restaurant where stylish people were being served by stylish personnel. Fonzo's eyes widened, he whistled low and turned to look at Corinn who had been eyeing him expectantly.

"Man is this the one you swore you'd get no matter what? Is this why you were so smug when you came from the city the other day?"

"Yeah." Corinn grinned from ear to ear and Fonzo shook a large fist at him.

"Bastard! Dirty bastard! You've had this for, what, three days now, and haven't said a single word to me? You deserve to "

"I'd like to point out that I've been deprived, too," Corinn drawled. "Simply haven't had the opportunity to indulge. Yeah, this is the video of Queen Marie's last performance. So don't you think you'd better shut up now and just focus on that thing, see, over there?"

"Queen?" Scott did not understand. "I have learned what a queen is, or actually was, sometime in history that is. But surely she cannot be a..."

"Sorry, Scott, we're being awfully vague!" Fonzo laughed and looked apologetic at the same time. "You see, the stars of the show, the best and most valued performers of these drag shows, they are called 'queens'. The newcomers who haven't established themselves yet are 'princesses'."

Scott nodded, digesting this bit of information.

"And Queen Marie was really something, a super gorgeous queen of all queens who wrapped everybody around her little finger. And then she just disappeared, nobody knows where." Fonzo snapped his fingers. "Of course Chez Maurice survived that, but rumors say the Union had something to do with it. Though, if you ask me, I can't think of why the Union should be interested in a drag show performer."

"I'd understand very well if Maurice himself had gone missing," Corinn agreed. "Considering that he's our city contact, and the amount of money he's poured into supporting the rebellion over the years, I wouldn't be at all surprised. But I guess it's just one of those mysteries. But hey, let's just watch this, please?"

He restarted the video and both men soon sank into rapture.

Scott watched the performance attentively. Yes, he found it very entertaining. The whole concept was 'very old-fashioned, and really proud of it,' as Corinn put it at some point. The music was enjoyable, and Scott also began to look hard at the performers and imagine what they would look like without the make-up and outrageous dresses and hairdos. To think that they really were men! They sure were doing a very good job of pretending to be women.

Fonzo and Corinn were holding their breath in anticipation and Scott, too, found himself sitting on the edge of the bed by the time the show host said the expected words: 'Ladies and gentlemen, only two words are needed: Queen Marie!'

"Oooh," Fonzo sighed when a very shapely leg appeared leisurely from the curtains and the star herself or himself? stepped into view.

Scott decided that whatever the man himself was like, this vision definitely deserved to be called 'she'. She sauntered onto the stage on impossibly high heels, wearing a tight long dress that was cut to show a generous amount of smooth back and nearly all of the left leg. Blond hair was collected into a loose bun and adorned with metallic glitter. She smiled and began to sing, her melodic voice a low sexy purr. Corinn stared at the video, transfixed, and probably forgot to breathe for several minutes.

The wild applause that followed the first song was interrupted by a call signal, and Corinn groaned in desperation. He rolled onto his stomach on the floor, hit the pause key and fumbled for his comm.

"Oh it's you Lancer! Yeah, sure we know where Scott is hey, don't blame me, you're the one who's misplaced him, baby! Yes, he's in our room... what? Right outside? Just come on in then, the door's not locked!"

He threw the comm back on the table and the frozen picture came to life again. Scott heard the door open but he couldn't turn his eyes from the enthralling sight of Queen Marie who had spread her arms and thanked the audience with a cooing laughter: 'My dear people, what a welcome...'

"Hey, what're you three up to "

"Lancer!"

"Sit down and join us!" Fonzo called over his shoulder. "Look what we've got!"

"Lancer! Why have you never... Lancer?"

Scott's voice rose in alarm and the men whirled around. Lancer's dilated eyes blinked a couple of times, he caught his breath and turned away wiping stray hairs away from a face that had been drained of all color. Scott grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Lancer, what's the matter?"

"Sorry Scott, I'm I'll go to our room, I'm not feeling all right."

Even his voice sounded bloodless but this time Scott chose to ignore the obvious signs of distress. He practically shook Lancer, face flustered.

"Lancer! Why have you not told me? Have you not told anybody?"

He pushed Lancer into an armchair and bent over him, hands on the armrests on each side, effectively trapping him in place. He tried in vain to catch the greenish gaze that kept eluding him.

"What're you talking about?" Fonzo demanded, perplexed. "Scott! Make sense! What hasn't he told you, or anybody?"

Scott turned to face him, looking like he might burst out of his skin any moment.

"That!" He pointed towards the screen. "That's Lancer!"

"Waitasecond..." The two mechanics stared at Lancer who buried his face in his hands, then at each other, then at the screen. Fonzo took a long breath and then both of them spoke at the same time.

"I don't believe it. I don't fucking believe it! Lancer, is it true? Are you Queen Marie?"

"So that's why she disappeared so suddenly but what the hell happened? How could Turner do that to you?"

"It wasn't his fault!" Lancer bolted up in the chair, looking like he might truly attack either of them. His fists clenched. "It was not his fault! He'd no idea that the Union had their eyes on him, and then we both were at my apartment when Maurice called and warned that the place was being watched. One of his guys had spotted the Union men waiting to catch Turner when he left. They knew exactly where he was! And Turner refused to leave me behind, he said that even though I didn't know anything apart from his being a rebel, of course I knew that they'd take me instead, and he would sooner turn himself in than let that happen. I told him that was totally out of the question, and finally Maurice helped us slip away though he was practically crying blood to see me go. And he said he'd simply pretend to know nothing about it all, just wait until the Union came to ask questions and then accuse them of doing something to me since they obviously were after my lover."

The others just stood and stared at the outburst. Lancer stopped. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times and then managed a weak smile.

"Well, no use denying it anymore, is there?" His voice was small and tired. "Yes, I... did work at Chez Maurice. But Marie is dead."

"Oh no." Fonzo slowly shook his head, staring at Lancer wide-eyed. "No way. Cannot be."

"Don't be silly, Fonzo!" Lancer laughed mirthlessly and sank back into the armchair looking very young and very lost.

Corinn sat on the low table and looked at him in a totally new way. He glanced at the platinum beauty on the screen yes, a little bleach applied by a skilled hairdresser on that silky blond hair would easily do the trick. He looked at the narrow face and tried to picture a clever make-up, with generous lipstick and some added length and lushness to already thick eyelashes. Oh boy, but the features were beginning to look decidedly familiar.

Of course he'd mainly learned to know that face from videos, for heaven's sake. Corinn had only once managed to secure himself a ticket to the place on one of the nights that the latest rave, the gorgeous Queen Marie had appeared her 'princess' period must've been extraordinarily short, Corinn thought in passing. But ever since then he'd been completely hooked. A true fan.

Being a rebel and living in Mount Robillard hadn't made worshipping the illustrious lady any easier. Even though Corinn wasn't on the Union's 'most wanted' list, sneaking into Trelissac for entertainment was always a risky business, not something one could do every week. But he was a fan. And oh yes, Lancer had already slipped thoroughly enough to make denying the connection impossible!

Corinn's gaze raked down Lancer's body and slowed even more to feast upon legs covered by close-fitting trousers. Now, add high heels, very high heels, and imagine what it would look like...

Corinn swallowed and turned his attention elsewhere. Lancer was not his type. Besides, he didn't want to take the risk that Scott might see him staring hungrily at his boyfriend, for whatever reason, and draw the wrong conclusions. Hell, he didn't want to hurt either one of them! But luckily Scott seemed to be completely focused on Lancer and even Fonzo was still too dumbfounded to have noticed anything.

"How the hell did you do it, Scott?" Fonzo demanded. "I mean, we're fans. We've seen numerous videos of her performances. We've even seen her live. But honestly, it's never occurred to me that I might actually know the person that is Queen Marie! Then you come, take one look at her and tell us it's Lancer. How?"

Scott looked astonished. "I did not recognize him when I looked. But when he spoke, I knew."

"Ohh Fonzo, old pal, don't you see?" Corinn slapped his thigh. "We're talking to the only person in this base who's heard Lancer's bedroom voice, and wondering how he recognized Queen Marie? We're not really that bad idiots, we've just been missing a vital piece of information!"

Fonzo rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Well, I'm an idiot all right for not figuring that out! But Lancer, please don't say Marie's dead..."

"Lancer, if you are Queen Marie then she cannot be dead, right?" Scott nudged his shoulder. "Because you are not dead."

Lancer almost felt like crying when he looked into those sincere eyes.

"Oh Scott... what I mean is just that Queen Marie was a role I played back then, in town, when I worked at Maurice's. But things are so different now, and she belongs to that place and time."

"It can't be. It's a crime if it's true!" Fonzo looked like a very serious dog and Lancer bit his lip.

"Yeah please let us live in the hope that she'll make a comeback one day, for us!" Corinn joined in. Lancer gave a sad smile and shook his head. "Aww, c'mon, you cannot mean that..."

"But I do," Lancer insisted. "Don't you understand? I'm not ashamed of it. I loved the whole thing and I was damn good! But now that I've at last managed to find a slot to fit in here, to be useful, to be appreciated as myself, I don't want to throw that all away."

"You're contradicting yourself!" Fonzo argued. "You wouldn't be throwing anything away! You've already astonished us all many times in the trashwagons, with your shooting, your AD gun, with Scott, and now this! Do you honestly still believe there's anyone in here who'd think any less of you because you've been one hell of a great drag artist? Don't you rather think everybody would be enthusiastic?"

"Yeah they sure would!" Corinn's eyes suddenly got an ominous glint. "Especially as most of them can only dream about leaving the base and going anywhere for a night out."

"What're you getting at?" Fonzo turned to his friend who was looking somewhere into the distance.

"Think about it." Corinn's hands made eloquent swipes in the air. "Imagine. The big common room. Just rearrange the tables a little. Something nice to drink. Maybe get the canteen guys to make some snacks. Music, loads of it. Dancing. And a live show "

"No. Oh no." Lancer lifted his hands up. "Cut it off, now!"

Corinn, however, was not to be deterred.

"A live show. We could rig the equipment a little, so that we'd get the background music from the video. Imagine first project the full image there, life-size. Then slowly fade the picture out, just leave the music track playing. And there she is..."

"The real thing." Lancer saw to his great alarm that Fonzo's face, too, had taken a distinctly dreamy expression. "That'd be great. A night out... in here. Just relax, and have fun, and forget about the Union for a while."

"Yeah, and just hope they'd be clever enough not to attack when everybody's nicely soaked in booze," Lancer snorted. "Really, on the whole it's a grand idea, if you just leave that 'live show' out of the plan."

"No we won't!"

Fonzo's jaw was firmly set, and Corinn's eyes were no less determined. Scott was looking from the two men to Lancer and back again, having long ago lost track of exactly what they were talking about but understanding the tension anyway.

"Fonzo Corinn the answer is NO," Lancer began again. "I won't do it. I'm totally out of practice."

"The party won't be tomorrow night anyway," Fonzo countered.

"I have no costumes, no makeup, no shoes, nothing." Lancer blinked and touched the violet scarf around his head. "In fact, this is the only memento of those days that I still have. I had to leave everything behind that night."

"I'll shop for you. Anything you need." Corinn crossed his arms on his broad chest.

"The answer is still no." Lancer's mouth pressed into a thin line.

Scott sat down on the armrest of his chair and wrapped protective arms around his shoulders.

"I do not want you to make Lancer feel bad," he scowled.

"Scott, it's nothing like that!" Fonzo's voice was soothing. "He's going to love it."

"No." Lancer rubbed his head on Scott's chest and closed his eyes.

"All right... sorry for pushing." Corinn rubbed his forehead, trying to look suitably apologetic. He gave a quick sideways glance at Fonzo. "But I'll talk to the Commanders anyway."

Fonzo nodded. "Yeah. Let's hear what they say to it."

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