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Challia Bull made his way to his quarters aboard the Sodon with a quiet, confident gait, retiring for the night. A seemingly calm demeanour, typical of the lieutenant-colonel, but which in reality concealed a keen eagerness and emotional turmoil.
It has now been five years since the one-year war ended in victory for Zeon, but also five years since the sudden and mysterious disappearance of the Red Gundam and its infamous pilot, Char Aznable.
And the reason the Sodon had been sent into Izuma airspace was because this long-lost Red Gundam had suddenly been spotted in the vicinity of the autonomous colony of Side-6 and Her Excellency Kycilia, claiming to know the true identity of its pilot as the son of Zeon Deikun, feared revenge on his part.
While Kycilia Zabi was pursuing Char Aznable for purely political reasons, Challia Bull had a completely different motive.
He was looking for his missing MAV.
The re-emergence of the Red Gundam had not left him unmoved, contrary to what might be expected of the lieutenant-colonel. It had shaken him and Challia, usually in control of his emotions, had given away a certain astonishment at the sight of the Gundam painted in the colors of its first pilot. He had kept his cool for the rest of the day, but he could feel the excitement catching up with him as he entered his cabin.
Challia laid his jacket on the back of a chair, grabbed a glass and a bottle of wine, a rare delicacy nowadays, courtesy of an army acquaintance. Some of the Sodon’s crew messed about by whispering that the lieutenant-colonel could pull a few strings, when they thought he could not hear, and there was some truth in these whisperings. It had its advantages, like now. He sat down, not without elegance, on the small sofa in his cabin and took a sip of the red liquid. A long, exhausted sigh escaped his lips as he thought back over the day’s events.
The intuition he had felt earlier had been right and he had immediately sent Second Lieutenant Xavier Olivette in pursuit of the Red Gundam aboard their latest creation, the GQuuuuuuX. And although the mission was a failure, and a double one on top of that, seeing the Red Gundam in combat brought back feelings he thought were buried deep inside him. Feelings that teetered in the corner of his mind and threatened to stir his heart if he let them go unchecked for too long.
He unceremoniously removed his tie and the first buttons of his shirt soon followed, a sight that would undoubtedly have stunned the rest of the fleet. But here, in the privacy of his own modest quarters, Challia could afford to let his emotions run wild.
His thoughts soon returned to the colonel who had disappeared in a terrible Zeknova during the Second Battle of Solomon. Challia Bull remembered the day he met Char Aznable. They had shared a bottle of wine in a setting not dissimilar to the one Challia found himself in at the moment.
It had been informal, personal. Intimate.
Colonel Char had immediately seen through his rigid and formal officer’s attitude, understanding that he was being subjected to Gihren and Kycilia’s war of ambitions and that this delicate predicament was weighing on his shoulders. Was this the intuition of Newtypes?
‘Team up with me, Captain Challia Bull’, Char had told him.
Perhaps it was the assertiveness emanating from the colonel that had been enough to make Challia give in. Or maybe it was the firm handshake that seemed to formalize a brighter future for Challia thanks to this man.
‘I have found a new friend in you.’
*
This was the beginning of their duo’s notoriety in Zeon and beyond. Their synchronization, coupled with the Psycommu’s new system, had enabled them to perform feat after feat on the battlefield, demonstrating the redoubtable nature of Newtypes. Their tandem was so transcendent that it gave birth to the notion of M.A.V . A revolution in the world of mobile suit combat.
Then, their association turned into more than just a tactical alliance.
Was it because Newtypes were subconsciously attracted to each other? Challia did not have the answer to that. What he did know was the post-fight excitement, the intense glances they exchanged. Their unquenched adrenalin, just waiting to be released, to be satisfied. And then Char’s surprisingly soft lips on his neck, and his warm breath in his ear.
If he closed his eyes, he could still hear him.
‘Challia... Challia...’ Char moaned his name like a mantra, as he pressed their bodies ever closer together with all the ardor the colonel possessed while piloting his mobile suit.
Challia suddenly felt cramped in his uniform. Without really realising it, his hand had already begun to move down his torso. Daydreaming about the past would not help him in his search of the Red Gundam, but it would be a precious aid in the urgent matter of his growing bulge.
He fumbled with the button and zipper of his pants for a few seconds before finally opening them, and wasted no time in gripping his warm length. A quiet moan escaped his lips at the cold touch of his hand.
He began with slow strokes, concentrating on building the momentum. But the restlessness that possessed him was feverish and soon enough he quickened the pace of his hand, slathering the beads of precum all over his cock.
His train of thoughts spun out of control and the effect of the fervor of his lust made him see something other than his hand around his dick. A blonde head. A piercing gaze, which he had very few opportunities to see outside of their private times, and warm lips enveloping his tip.
‘Fuck…’ he gasped.
By now, Challia was panting heavily. He worked himself frantically, adding pressure with every stroke of his hand, every trick of his tongue . He would probably be embarrassed by his fantasy later, but right now, all he could think about was the delicious friction on his cock. His MAV, which had taken him to the base, without dropping his gaze.
It was too much for Challia, already stirred up. Arching his back, he cried out Char’s name as he reached his climax, spilling all over his fingers.
*
With the wine abandoned, Challia tried to calm his breathing. Although the Red Gundam had reappeared, the pilot was definitely not colonel Char. He let out a long sigh as he let his head fall against the sofa, neck glistening with sweat. He looked downright disheveled.
‘Where have you gone, colonel?’ he asked, to the void.
Unfortunately, Challia would not have time to address the issue right now. He had urgent matters to attend to, in particular recovering Xavier Olivette, currently in the hands of the Izuma military police following the failure of his mission.
Challia got up to clean the mess he had made on his hands and prepare his strategy for what was to come.
His stoic mask fell back into place.