Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing.

Tragedy at the Gates

He sat with his feet resting on the table, leaning back into a chair, balancing it on its two back legs, his long braid dangling from the back of the piece of furniture. He wore a black priest outfit with black leather pants and black boots, a custom and trademark outfit that all had come to know as his favorite set of clothing. Amethyst eyes scanned a calendar than clearly showed the current year: A.C. 201.

He sure as hell hadn't expected to live this long, especially when he had once participated in a war of all things.

Yep, Duo Maxwell, pilot of Gundam Deathscythe, was living the high life. Well, truth be told, not really. It was, however, better than most of those who resided in the L2 colony.

Currently, the ex-terrorist and budding salvage business owner was spending his days helping out at a local scrap yard, working side-by-side with a war buddy, a woman by the name of Hilde Schbeiker. She had long outgrown the term "girl" and was now, in Duo's eyes, a woman. A very pretty woman. Hell, she was fucking beautiful!

Not that Duo would admit that out loud, manly pride and all…

For years now, Duo had considered Hilde a partner and a good friend but never family. He had always had bad luck when it came to those few he considered family… It had only been recently that he had begun thinking about how good of friends they were and the depth of the relationship they had. However, he stopped those thoughts immediately whenever he began thinking of Hilde in any intimate way.

It wasn't that he was afraid of commitment, far from it. As if a little thing like commitment could scare him after all the shit he had seen and been through. No, he was more afraid that she too would fall under the Maxwell curse as he called it. He didn't want her to die like all the others had. Solo, Father Maxwell, Sister Helen…each one he had become close to and each one was long gone into the after life or whatever it was they went to. Duo was determined to make sure Hilde didn't suffer the fate as those before her and any others. While he was friends with the other Gundam pilots, he wasn't that close. Once again, his so-called curse was the reason.

It wasn't like he didn't want deep relationships, but fear was a tough opponent to beat, even for the self proclaimed God of Death.

Currently, the ex-pilot was waiting for Hilde to return from picking up some scraps and other metal materials that were destined to enter the yard. It had been just a little over half an hour since she had left and she should be getting back soon by his calculations.

A phone ringing brought him back to reality and he quickly picked it up, already knowing who it was.

"Hey, babe."

"How'd you know it was me?" came the amused answer.

"Never underestimate the God of Death," Duo replied, cracking a smile to himself. A sigh could be heard over the phone and that only caused his smile to widen.

"Well 'God,' as you can well guess, I'm almost back."

"I know, I know. Open up the gate so we can get all that crap in."

"You know me so well."

"You bet your ass I do."

Laughter filled the earpiece. Duo only smirked, enjoying that lovely noise that the girl was making. Such a beautiful sound…

"Let me guess, you're only a few minutes away, right?"

"Uh huh."

"Alright, I'll talk to you when you get in."

"Just open the gate Duo."

"Mission accepted."

Duo could practically hear Hilde's eyes roll. She definitely knew where the braided man had gotten that particular phrase from. At least he hadn't learned any new ones. That is if there were any new ones left to learn…

Hanging up, Duo procrastinated a bit, knowing that he didn't have to do anything immediately. After all, the switch was in the office; it was just a few feet away!

Now, what was the gate anyway? Simply put, it was a massive steel door. It was there to keep anybody from just walking in and stealing the trucks both Hilde and Duo used to pick up new scraps. Plus, recently, there had been outbreaks of gang violence in the area. One could never be too careful on L2.

After waiting for a bit, Duo languidly pushed the switch, the steel gate outside slowly moving to a side. Stretching, Duo began making his way out to greet his partner.

An ominous crashing sound complete with a screeching noise caused him to stop dead in his tracks.

The hesitation only lasted a second as old training habits he had developed during his time as a Gundam pilot kicked in and he found himself racing outside to see what the commotion was. The horrifying sight that greeted him caused him to gasp.

Before him were two large trucks, one of which was an unidentifiable and the other…oh no. Oh God no…

Duo sprinted as fast as he could to the other vehicle, the one in which Hilde was in.

As he tore his way into the metal death trap, only the words 'please don't be dead, oh God, please don't be dead' ran through his mind, repeating itself as like a mantra. Duo prayed to whatever deity that was listening to let Hilde be alive.

His prayers were not answered.

Tears filled his eyes. Hilde's body, the eyes wide open, glazed with death, slumped up against the driver's window. He couldn't see the lower half of her body and her neck was bent at an unnatural angle. Blood leaked from a gash on her forehead, flowing down her face and pooling around the girl's head.

Quickly, Duo checked frantically for a pulse only to find none.

No…

This couldn't be happening. Not now, not to Hilde, anybody but Hilde!

Why her? Why now?

However, reality was being so cruel at the moment. Hilde was dead. All signs pointed to that undeniable fact and there was nothing he could do to change that. Sadness and anguish soon turned to anger and rage. Who the hell was driving that other truck?! If they weren't dead by now, they were going to be real soon!

Leaving the mangled truck cab, metal scraps surrounding the accident, Duo made his way to the other vehicle. It was only now that other civilians began making their way to the scene but the ex-pilot could have cared less about any of them.

Nearly ripping the driver's door off of the other truck, Duo could plainly see, much to his own disappointment, that the other victims were already dead. They were two ordinary looking males, both dressed in dark blue, unidentifiable uniforms. Eyeing a computerized clipboard, Duo knew who these men were.

Fucking delivery boys.

What was so special about this truck that it just had to be driving down this street at this time of day? It had better be some vital organ or something just as important, else Duo didn't know if he would be able to keep his temper in check. Taking the clipboard with him, he left the cab and opened the back.

What fell out stunned him. At his feet now laid assault rifles, machines guns, pistols, even ammunition. It was a miracle that the truck hadn't exploded yet! Inspecting one such weapon, he found that the serial number had long since been scratched off.

What the hell were illegal arms doing here?!

Duo didn't give himself the chance to continue with this train of thought as he quickly loaded a weapon. This wasn't the best place for such things to be. There was a gang war going on here and both sides would die to get their hands on these. It would be some time before the colonial law officials got here. Luckily, thanks to one Lady Une, no matter what action he took right now, it would not get him into too much trouble. Besides, members of the local gang were beginning to poke their heads out and catching sight of the accident

Stuffing the clipboard under his shirt, tossing the munitions back into the truck and closing it up, Duo proceeded to do his self-appointed task of guarding this dangerous hoard. Coming to terms with Hilde's death would have to come later.

--

He sat in darkness, his amethyst eyes glued to the clipboard. Whoever was transporting illegal arms in L2 was obviously bringing them to a buyer somewhere on the colony. Whoever the buyer was was in part responsible for Hilde's death…

At least, that was the conclusion his mind brought him to anyway.

One of the best things that had happened to him was gone now. What he wanted now, what he needed now, was retribution. Revenge.

After he had managed to hold off gang members from getting their grubby hands on the treasure trove of arms, defending the truck for 89 minutes straight and the "proper" authorities had arrived on the scene, there had been a "misunderstanding" of sorts.

The cops had tried to arrest him of all people, not that he couldn't blame them. What would anybody else have done if they had to face off with a nearly insane ex-terrorist in possession of a semiautomatic? Thankfully, that get-out-of-jail-free card he had gotten from Une cleared up the "misunderstanding" even though he was receiving a lot of suspicion from the cops, he was back in the scrap yard, planning his next move.

Blood needed to be spilt, bones needed to be broken, lives needed to end. Oh yes, the God of Death was coming back for an encore performance…

No matter how much he acted like a fool, as everybody else would say he was, he was much smarter than what other people gave him credit for. He was much more dangerous than how he appeared. His jester mask was perfect and it had successfully fooled everybody. Now it was time for him to discard that mask of his once and for all and show everybody who he really was.

After all, he had tracked down one Colonel Bravis, the man responsible for ordering the destruction of the Maxwell Church, and had obliterated him along with the rest of the base he had been occupying during the first Eve War. It had been his first "mission" and it was one that he had taken great pleasure from.

According to the clipboard, the weapons were to be delivered somewhere in the warehouse district. It would be there that he would find some answers.

Closing down the scrap yard would be simple. He'd tell Howard to come take over while he was gone. Taking a few weapons of his own, including his favorite gun, a pistol, hunter knives, and whatnot, he was preparing himself for war. No more would he sit back and watch all his loved ones perish before his eyes time and again. He was going to give the powers that be a piece of his mind.

Covering himself with a long, black trench coat, Duo Maxwell departed into the night.