Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and all related entities belong to their rightful owners and creators. This is for entertainment only; no profit has been or will be made.
Author's Note: This is an AU fic where the "original" Operation Meteor (Dekim Barton's plot to drop colonies on the earth as revealed in Endless Waltz) is a success—and an entire year early, Treize finds himself as the only military official left that's capable of picking up the pieces. But of course, it's not that simple. This story is also Post – Apocalypse: the cast is going to behave somewhat differently than normal. However, I will try to keep everyone as in character as I can. There will be foul language, murder, and some OOC behavior due to the nature of the setting and the plot.
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Chapter 1
*Luxembourg*
The skies were gray; the sun was a faint disc beyond the thick blanket of clouds. The air was frigid and damp from the rains. Was it spring? Summer? What month was it? Treize lost track around three years ago. But what did it matter: everyday looked just like this. Earl gray clouds and a sliver of light beyond them during the day, and night time of perpetual darkness that blanketed every inch of the earth.
"Your Excellency...?"
"There's no need for that anymore, Une." he said lowly as he shifted his tired blue eyes to the rubble that used to be his Luxembourg estate. Every wall, window, piece of furniture was completely destroyed. There was nothing left but stone and ash. "I'm hardly an aristocrat anymore, and barely a soldier or a leader. ...Barton saw to that."
Une shook her head and adjusted her glasses. A thin crack ran through the center of the right lens, and the frame was bent slightly. "You're still a leader, Sir. Those who remain still see you as such, myself included. That has not and will not change."
"...I never considered my agenda to be simple. To break down the Earth Sphere Alliance and Romefeller Foundation from the inside out would have taken the better part of the year, maybe longer. It was only the beginning. A beginning that met its end once Dekim Barton decided to execute Operation Meteor earlier than anticipated. I've always known Barton to have high levels of influence within the realm of politics. But to garner the full support of the colonies to execute more than one Colony Drop on the earth...." A mild frown crossed his face as he shook his head. "MOII would have easily ended all life here. Why he chose Colonies instead of the abandoned resource asteroid raises questions. How he managed this at all still baffles me. I'm positive at least one person objected. ...Tell me Une. If I attempted something of this scale, do you believe Dermail, Noventa and Tsuberov would have given me their full support?"
Une gazed at her superior as he stared into the distance. "...I doubt it, Sir. Unless it would somehow benefit them, I highly doubt it. As cryptic as it may sound, it is safe to assume that Barton spared us MOII in order to bring us to heel. Regardless, it is quite clear that the earth is in no condition to defend herself should the Colonies become anymore aggressive. OZ is a shell of its former self, with but a few hundred soldiers remaining. Even less than that are combat ready."
Treize sighed quietly in mild resignation. "Apparently so. Can't help but admire their propaganda, though: The colonies razed the surface of the earth to rid humanity of those who abet war. And it is the colonies who will help the people of earth rebuild and start anew in absolute peace. A fine plot of for ruling the entire Earth Sphere, wouldn't you say?"
"It's more of a slaughter than a plot, Sir."
"A slaughter indeed. ...Any word from Zechs?"
"Yes, Sir. He and twenty other soldiers are on their way here as we speak. At least, that's what we're told. We can't confirm it."
"...I believe it. The nature of the situation means nothing; he won't go down easily. How long until he arrives?"
"We're hoping he'll arrive before sundown any day now; if not, in the morning. Traveling at night is a risk we know he would not take, especially if anyone with him is injured."
"And our stores?"
"There are only three hundred and fifty seven of us, and we have enough food stores here for about three more years. It'll be no trouble to accommodate an additional twenty one people, once they arrive." Une adjusted her glasses again. "Noin has just arrived from Central Africa. Unfortunately, she is the sole survivor of Lake Victoria. All of her students were killed in the attacks or died en route."
"To lose them all...and many of them so young. Tell Lucrezia I'll speak with her once she settles in. If Barton and his ilk continue to reach out to us, disregard them. I want to know more about this operation of his and exactly who backed him to make it successful. Names, locations...anything you can find. Keep watch for Zechs; start watching for him immediately."
"Our resources are limited, but we'll do what we can Sir." Une nodded lightly. "Also..."
"Also?"
"The Colonies have started sending supplies to clusters of surviving civilians worldwide. Should we accept supplies from them as well?"
"After what they've done in the name of 'peace'? After they've taken the lives of billions just to get to us??" Treize glared at the rubble at his feet. "Absolutely not. Send it back. All of it! The people of earth will rebuild without the help of crass politicians who wreak total havoc and destruction under the false premise of achieving peace. Anyone who uses genocide as a scare tactic is an enemy of the people. That includes Dekim Barton!"
"Understood."
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*Moon Base*
"So, they have chosen to refuse us."
"Yes, Sir."
Dekim Barton hummed mildly in amusement. "Treize is just like his father: stubborn to a fault. Does he have any particular reason for refusing sorely needed aid from the Colonies?"
"None that we could gather, Sir." the soldier shook her head. "They've continued to decline any level of contact with us for the last two years or so. It's likely they have multiple supply caches, but those won't last forever."
"Leave them be, for now." Dekim turned in his seat and gazed at the earth through the reinforced glass. The heavy cloud cover gave the once blue-green planet a sullen and gray appearance. "Those who refuse the Colonial Federation are our enemies. To refuse our aid is to concede to death. And if Treize wishes to lead his precious 'Specials' to their graves in defiance, then so be it. Is our next shipment ready to leave?"
"Yes, Sir. It's already en route to earth and should be landing in South America within the next 24 hours."
"Hmph. Let him lead his motley crew to starvation. WE will tend to the needs of the people of earth, not those who abet war. Give the people what they need, and they will look upon you with favor. Yes, give the people their food and they will become as loyal as dogs, eating from the palm of your hand." He smiled thinly and turned to a strawberry blonde child sitting to his left. "Don't you agree, Mariemaia?"
"...Yes, grandfather."
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*Countryside*
Miliardo frowned heavily at the shadows on the road ahead of him. The fog had become heavy; he scarcely knew where "here" was. This area was mostly unpopulated, save for the occasional stray dog or dessicated corpse. A scorched sign they passed miles back might have said "Berlin". If so, Luxembourg could not be far off. The shadowed figures in the distance could very well be headquarters: they did not move or flinch, so they could not be theives. It was still light out, but there was no telling how many hours of it remained. Even so, he could not travel at a pace that was fast enough to beat the impending dusk; four people in his party were injured. Moving about in the darkness was suicide.
"Excuse me, Sir..." He turned his head to the man at his shoulder. He was scarred and bruised, rings around his eyes from exhaustion. His hair was matted and dirty. Miliardo was no different. "There's something you need to see."
The man led him back to the main party--those who could stand were gathered in a circle. Those who were injured were resting on the side of the road. Miliardo approached the circle, the men and women parting to let him pass. At their feet was a box, a safe of sorts. There was a combination dial and a padlock. "We found it lying in the trees, just off the road. It doesn't look too damaged."
"Do we have anything to open it with?"
"We should have a crowbar or wire cutters, but nothing to break the combination."
"Nevermind that. Do we still have the sledge hammer we found recently?"
"Yes Sir."
"Bring it."
"What do you think is inside Sir...?"
Good question. For all Miliardo knew, it could be a bomb. Or filled with the entrails of some unfortunate individual, just like the box they discovered at the remains of a campsite over what felt like months ago. They found MANY boxes like that one. There was a chance that this safe was the same.
"My concern lies with whether or not it'll explode, not its contents."
"I hope it's no one's heart or brain again...I don't think I can deal with that again."
"You're not the only one." he muttered as he took the hammer that was handed to him and motioned for everyone to give him distance. He didn't know how close or how far they were to headquarters; he couldn't tell in the fog. If food was in here, it would be a much needed blessing, as their rations were nearly depleted. If it was human remains again, he could deal with that. If it was a bomb and they were put out of their misery, he would not be pleased. They did not come all this way only to die like dogs on the street. To become like the years old corpses they passed regularly.
The sheer thought was enough for him to raise the hammer and bring it down with enough force to blast the door from the container, padlock and all. No explosion; just various items spilled forward. Keys. Batteries. A flashlight. A compass. Photos. Five cans rolled on the pavement. There were objects still inside. Miliardo kneeled and reached into the container--nothing wet, soft, or dead graced his fingers. There was no odor. He pulled out a can opener and more photos. Letters. He gave a soft gasp. "A map..." He quickly unfolded it and spread it on the top of the safe. A convenient X was placed between two points: one point was Luxembourg, off to his right. The point to his left was unintelligble.
"Where did you find this again?"
"Just off the road, about 300 feet into the trees."
"Show me."
Miliardo took the map and was led to the exact spot where the safe was extracted. He looked ahead, further into the scorched woods and spotted what looked like an estate. From his position, it appeared whole. He looked overhead; the light was fading. He finally turned to the handful of people behind him.
"Dark is approaching, and we don't have much time. I want those who are armed to clear that building of any hostiles. Take no chances; if it moves, shoot it. Inspect the structure, make sure it's sound. Once clear, we move into the building. The injured goes first. We will camp there tonight and continue in the morning."
"Sir."
"Yes, Otto?"
"How far do you think we've come?"
Miliardo frowned lightly and shook his head as six people with shotguns and rifles surged forward. "It's hard to tell. We have a map now, and hopefully something in that building can tell us exactly where we are. How are our injured?"
"They're hanging on, Sir."
"Aren't we all hanging on?"
Otto nodded lightly. "Yes Sir. We are. And we have no intention of letting go, either."
"Neither do I." The sounds of gunfire filled the air. "Tell me the truth Otto: how far do YOU think we've come?"
"...We have people injured, but they're definitely not down for the count. Those who aren't injured are up for any task." Otto rubbed his neck, half in pain and half in contemplation. "If we're not close to headquarters, we've at least found shelter for a few nights and maybe more food and supplies. A lot of people died doing exactly what we're doing, but we're still alive. We've done pretty well. I'd say, we're pretty damned lucky, Sir."
He hummed in agreement. The gun fire ceased, and two people ran towards him. They came to a stop; one shouldered their rifle, the other coughed briefly before straightening themselves.
"Building's clear, Sir. No casualties on our end. The structure is sound and intact; there's even a cellar with supplies. Food included."
"Let's get the injured and that safe off the road. Keep an eye out until everyone is inside. Once again: if it so much as moves, I want it dead. We don't need the marauders at our backs."
"And the bodies in the building?"
"Strip them and burn them."
"Yessir!"
Days or weeks ago, a small group of civilians told him a rumor that Luxembourg was completely destroyed, including headquarters. He asked if they heard anything about Treize or Noin. They said no, before stalking off to their fate. Miliardo knew both of them well; they would never give Dekim Barton the satisfaction of an easy victory. Especially not after fall of the colonies. They were alive. They were at Luxembourg, and he will get there by any means necessary.
"The light's getting dim...we'd better go on ahead, Sir."
Miliardo nodded and fell several paces behind Otto.
Doing well? This is true. But 'damned lucky'? That's an understatement.
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Thank you for reading! Please, feel free to review (I'll even return the favor!). Thanks again.
