Dustice lounged back in his chair smoking a cigar while sipping his father's favorite drink. The bottle of James Donnels reflected a twinge of the light from the room, but that wasn’t his focus. He would puff on the fat cigar, take a sip from the whiskey, and lean back to enjoy the “view”. His chair allowed him to look out the 'window' of his father's room, though it was really just a viewing monitor set up to mimic a window it still offered the same comfort of stargazing while enjoying a drink and a smoke.
"How many people did you manage to protect?" Came a voice on the left side of the window. He glanced over to see the older figure standing beside him. Of course, this is how it always went down when he had this dream. His father, always there to confront him.
"I haven't counted yet. We lost some good pilots but as far as I can tell none of the civilians were killed."
"See kid? Being a bodyguard, it’s in your blood!"
The younger man furrowed his brow. "Don't. I'm exhausted." Even in his dreams, he felt the aches and exhaustion from days of constant piloting. He couldn’t escape it, just as he knew where his father was about to steer this conversation. This dream always went the same way.
The old man let out a raspy chuckle. He had been smoking those cigars since before the One Year War and it might have been catching up to him. But despite the advancements when it came to smoking, the old man preferred to smoke something natural instead of electronic. His son was less interested in ruining his voice but that particular night before the final battle of the Gryps Conflict of course he was going to share a smoke and a drink with the man he had been seeking out for over half a decade.
"Just think...if you're able to protect a whole crew by yourself so easily.."
"Drop it."
"Imagine how easy it would be to protect one Zeon Princess?"
The young pilot removed his cigar from his mouth and whipped it angrily at his father. Though in zero gravity it would be easy enough to not just dodge it, but catch it and safely put it out, which his father did.
That was what made these dreams so weird, instead of the nice, nostalgic conversation he had with his father the night before the old man died during the war, his dreams kept returning to this strange argument that never really happened. An argument about the old man’s last request.
While Dustice has heard instances of people making contact with others from the afterlife, most of those anecdotes came from alleged newtypes. Plus, they said the spirits were friendly. While it could be argued that at the very least, the elder Behrbeck was not malicious if he truly was a ghost, Dustice never enjoyed the conversation because it always ended up coming back to Princess Mineva Lao Zabi.
"You're absolutely right!" He'd bark at his father. "I'd do a damn good job at protecting the princess! But I'm not risking my life only to find out I've been getting shot at over a decoy ever again!! Do you know how humiliating that was?"
"I understand that. It was wrong of Lady Haman to abuse your trust that way."
"Yeah it was, but she did that to everyone that worked for her."
"Well Commander Char did promise to--"
That's when Dustice slammed his drink down and stood up. "Char Aznable is dead, vanished in that axis shock, and good riddance too! I'm sorry old man, I know you really wanted me to look out for her but I dropped a colony, an asteroid, and almost our former home onto the planet, all in her name. And the universe itself stepped in to stop that last one, I'm not doing it anymore. If you're gonna insist on bothering me about this, then give me names of former zeon buddies of yours that won't screw me over!!"
Instead of an answer, he'd be rustled awake by a lady engineer. It looked like his power nap time was over. It was a good thing he chose the nap before the shower because he'd have had much less sleep if he took the shower first. The pilot politely gestured for the engineer to back away, he knew how he probably smelled. "Unfortunately the pirates weren't nice enough to give me bathroom breaks, or nap time." He grumbled, looking over his suit. It was one from the second Neo Zeon War, back when he worked for Char. Well, it didn't really hold any emotional value to him, truth be told he'd prefer to wear a normal suit that matched the grey of his Geara Doga but he had spent most of his budget on a beam tomahawk shield. "Uh..." He'd look around. "I should have a spare normal suit around somewhere. Where's your disposal? I think I'm just gonna pitch this suit, it'd be a waste of your water trying to clean it out."
About half an hour later, Dustice was showered and in a spare normal suit and he managed to grab a fresh pair of undergarments and a black short sleeved undershirt, but he didn't really have time to get the rest of his casual clothes from the ship. Though he had a hunch that the pirates might try and come back so he figured his normal suit was fine for now. He kept it unzipped down to the waist to let his torso breathe for once. After all, this was a civilian ship. Who the hell cared about regulation?
The pilot knocked on the door to the bridge, and when given permission to answer the first thing he would do is apologize. "Hi, I'm so sorry I just went straight to bed when you rescued us. But I didn't want to have any sort of business-related conversations on no sleep, I don't trust myself to not mess up the paperwork side of this job."
"How many people did you manage to protect?" Came a voice on the left side of the window. He glanced over to see the older figure standing beside him. Of course, this is how it always went down when he had this dream. His father, always there to confront him.
"I haven't counted yet. We lost some good pilots but as far as I can tell none of the civilians were killed."
"See kid? Being a bodyguard, it’s in your blood!"
The younger man furrowed his brow. "Don't. I'm exhausted." Even in his dreams, he felt the aches and exhaustion from days of constant piloting. He couldn’t escape it, just as he knew where his father was about to steer this conversation. This dream always went the same way.
The old man let out a raspy chuckle. He had been smoking those cigars since before the One Year War and it might have been catching up to him. But despite the advancements when it came to smoking, the old man preferred to smoke something natural instead of electronic. His son was less interested in ruining his voice but that particular night before the final battle of the Gryps Conflict of course he was going to share a smoke and a drink with the man he had been seeking out for over half a decade.
"Just think...if you're able to protect a whole crew by yourself so easily.."
"Drop it."
"Imagine how easy it would be to protect one Zeon Princess?"
The young pilot removed his cigar from his mouth and whipped it angrily at his father. Though in zero gravity it would be easy enough to not just dodge it, but catch it and safely put it out, which his father did.
That was what made these dreams so weird, instead of the nice, nostalgic conversation he had with his father the night before the old man died during the war, his dreams kept returning to this strange argument that never really happened. An argument about the old man’s last request.
While Dustice has heard instances of people making contact with others from the afterlife, most of those anecdotes came from alleged newtypes. Plus, they said the spirits were friendly. While it could be argued that at the very least, the elder Behrbeck was not malicious if he truly was a ghost, Dustice never enjoyed the conversation because it always ended up coming back to Princess Mineva Lao Zabi.
"You're absolutely right!" He'd bark at his father. "I'd do a damn good job at protecting the princess! But I'm not risking my life only to find out I've been getting shot at over a decoy ever again!! Do you know how humiliating that was?"
"I understand that. It was wrong of Lady Haman to abuse your trust that way."
"Yeah it was, but she did that to everyone that worked for her."
"Well Commander Char did promise to--"
That's when Dustice slammed his drink down and stood up. "Char Aznable is dead, vanished in that axis shock, and good riddance too! I'm sorry old man, I know you really wanted me to look out for her but I dropped a colony, an asteroid, and almost our former home onto the planet, all in her name. And the universe itself stepped in to stop that last one, I'm not doing it anymore. If you're gonna insist on bothering me about this, then give me names of former zeon buddies of yours that won't screw me over!!"
***
Instead of an answer, he'd be rustled awake by a lady engineer. It looked like his power nap time was over. It was a good thing he chose the nap before the shower because he'd have had much less sleep if he took the shower first. The pilot politely gestured for the engineer to back away, he knew how he probably smelled. "Unfortunately the pirates weren't nice enough to give me bathroom breaks, or nap time." He grumbled, looking over his suit. It was one from the second Neo Zeon War, back when he worked for Char. Well, it didn't really hold any emotional value to him, truth be told he'd prefer to wear a normal suit that matched the grey of his Geara Doga but he had spent most of his budget on a beam tomahawk shield. "Uh..." He'd look around. "I should have a spare normal suit around somewhere. Where's your disposal? I think I'm just gonna pitch this suit, it'd be a waste of your water trying to clean it out."
About half an hour later, Dustice was showered and in a spare normal suit and he managed to grab a fresh pair of undergarments and a black short sleeved undershirt, but he didn't really have time to get the rest of his casual clothes from the ship. Though he had a hunch that the pirates might try and come back so he figured his normal suit was fine for now. He kept it unzipped down to the waist to let his torso breathe for once. After all, this was a civilian ship. Who the hell cared about regulation?
The pilot knocked on the door to the bridge, and when given permission to answer the first thing he would do is apologize. "Hi, I'm so sorry I just went straight to bed when you rescued us. But I didn't want to have any sort of business-related conversations on no sleep, I don't trust myself to not mess up the paperwork side of this job."
