Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing and its associated characters, ideas, etc. The only thing I have rights to are any Original Characters that appear in this story.

Authors Note: This is my first time attempting to write in the Gundam Wing Universe. I apologize in advance for any errors I make in realism of said Universe. I would appreciate anyone's help in avoiding such mistakes. Reviews help me by telling me what I'm doing right and what I'm doing wrong, so please review or else it won't get any better. Thanks all. Enjoy





Chapter 1 Somewhere in North America September AC 195

Jeromiah Hunt stood stark still against the blackness of the night. The cool evening air filling his lungs refreshing his senses. His face tilted skyward with gray eyes staring out from behind thin steel framed glasses at the stars above. Running his right hand back thru his short black hair removing the hood of his sweatshirt from his head, he was reminded of a time when he could gaze up at the heavens nightly. Jeromiah had never really appreciated that fact until it was gone. Then again his life was no longer simple. After all, lies are complicated things to live. Jeromiah wasn't even his real name but it was all he had left. The young man of 19 had a home once, a family once, and a life once all tied to a name that was destroyed along with all that he held dear. Three years, Jeromiah thought to himself as he turned his eyes to the lake in front of him. Three years to the day, his thoughts continued as he stared into the dark water. This is the day when a young boy died and I was born. For Jeromiah the memories never faded. Instead they where suppressed everyday, until the same day in September would roll around and his memories flooded back. This was the moment, the time when it had all began, he could feel it. The memories came back to him then with all the emotions of that fateful night. Overwhelmed, Jeromiah fell to his knees there at the edge of the lake. Biting back tears, closing his eyes it all played out in his mind:

He had been driving home to grab a movie. She was with him, her face so full of life, raven hair falling to her shoulders with a smile that could light up a room. For him, she was the light. As the young couple pulled up to his house, headlights playing across the white siding and black shudders, his world began to die. The house exploded in a huge orange fireball sending debris everywhere as the blast consumed his house and his family in the same instant. Stopping the car he had run up to the burning wreckage, salty tears coursing down his young face. She had come to him, at the sound of her footsteps he turned to her seeking solace only to find more despair as a secondary explosion rocked the house once more sending shards of siding everywhere and throwing him to the ground. He had pulled himself up off the ground screaming her name his back lacerated and his right leg gashed by shards. She was there not ten feet in front of him, she had looked so angelic standing there so serene as she always did, until she slumped to the ground a foot long piece of wood pierced thru her abdomen her blood running black across her white blouse from the mortal wound. He had dragged himself to her, holding her in his arms stroking her face trying to comfort her. Her brown eyes had bored into his searching for answer he did not yet have himself as her blood soaked his hands and shirt. Her once bright eyes were now fading, her face contorted in pain, her body slowly going cold. He begged her not to go, not to leave him all alone. Seeing all the pain and watching her life leave her he had whispered to her three comforting words, the truth that had made them one, and at that she smiled thru all the pain. And with that final smile her beautiful soul left this world.

Snapping his eyes open Jeromiah could taste his tears upon his lips. His once young face now weathered by anguish and countless trials was now wet with tears. Tilting his head once more to the sky he screamed much like he had that night, a scream of unfathomable pain and rage that tore through his soul and escaped his mouth in a guttural cry of pain that scattered the birds from the trees. That night three years ago a man had come to him asking him if he wanted vengeance. The now dead young man had just nodded as he stared down at his still blood stained hands. In that night he had died along with all he cared about, and in that moment Jeromiah Hunt was born. A once innocent boy whose love's blood stained his hands that night, was now a man aged beyond his years, an elite assassin trained by the colonies to assist Operation Meteor. Soon the time for vengeance would come and so would his peace.