The War on Gundam

by Eyefantasy

New dangers lurk when our After Colony heroes are mysteriously transported to Anno Domini. A new war will be waged, and it's up to Heero and friends and their new Gundams to protect this new world from falling into catastrophe. Battle lines will be drawn and crossed as military and political leaders plot revolution. As the world changes, the war on Gundam has just begun.

2. Chapter 2: Anno Domini

Sorry for the wait! I really enjoyed writing this one. This will follow canon until, I think, episode 8 of 00. As you read, you'll notice some slight divergences later.

---

10 October 2307

La Tour Orbital Elevator

"Thanks for the ride, my man," Duo Maxwell said good-naturedly, patting the roof of the yellow taxicab.

He briefly caught his reflection from the rear-view mirror above the driver's bald, gleaming head. His long, brown hair was pulled back into a braid that fell to his lower back. His large, mirthful, mischievous, cobalt blue eyes stood out on his handsomely boyish, tanned face, between his long strands of dangling brown bangs that seemed wilder than tamed, unlike his braid. Duo's grin was a tad more enthusiastic than he felt, even as it reached his eyes, but, really, he felt good enough for the coming events.

Duo thought his reflection looked damn good, and he winked in agreement. He dipped his head into the driver's open window, and threw a smirk at the driver, who rolled his dark eyes in response and grunted.

Driving the young man had been a taxing ordeal for the Congolese driver. Duo's mouth could sometimes run at the speed of light, and the taxi driver had spent the last twenty minutes in a one-sided conversation with the young man. Topics Duo brought up ranged from politics to mobile suits to the press and his excitement and critiques for today's event at the Advanced European Union's military maneuvering ground, inside the nations of Burundi, Rwanda and the Democratic Republic of the Congo, west of Lake Victoria and Lake Tanganyika.

The AEU was unveiling, in a bold demonstration to the world, their new mobile suit called the AEU-09 AEU Enact, their first solar-powered suit developed to compete with the three great powers: The Union (Union of Solar Energy and Free Nations or World Economic Union), the Earth Sphere United Empire (ESUE), and the Human Reform League (HRL).

The Enact was said to compete, maneuverability-wise and power, with the Union's SVMS-01 Flag, but had a lower power output than the ESUE-12MS Taurus III. This drove overwhelming attention from the world for this demonstration of effrontery, especially towards the ESUE. The Enact's debut was a power move for the AEU, to coincide with the HRL's anniversary of opening their orbital elevator, Heaven's Pillar (Tenchū), and military posturing to the ESUE and their hegemony over 60 percent of Africa.

The AEU lacked what two of the four great nations had: a completed orbital elevator. La Tour was still in development and wouldn't be completed for another two years, which slowed business for competition in space, and the spreading of solar energy to their territories - but Duo wasn't here for that, though, it would have been a nice detour from work he imagined. A nice day in warm weather enticed him, and he would, when he had the time, schedule a visit for a vacation and lull on a chaise longue somewhere nice, not thinking about the complexities of the world that gave him headaches.

From what he could remember from reports, the AEU grudgingly shared control of the tower with the ESEU after the ESEU's African War of Conquest or what some social scientists now call the South African Rebellion. The ESEU decimated the AEU, the Union, and the HRL until sixty percent of the African continent was under their control. Duo wondered why they would go so far and yet not finish conquering the whole continent. They had the machine power and technology to wipe them away.

Maybe it was the preservation of the orbital elevator or something, thought Duo. The AEU, the HRL, and the Union, in a rare form of solidarity retained hold of the orbital elevator and their influence in the various nations in parts of North, Central, and East Africa. For the Union and HRL, it was corporate control of resources and companies; the AEU was the same, however, they wanted to consolidate their sphere of influence in the western, northern, central, and eastern countries.

They managed to halt the onslaught, but Duo knew it would not be for long. The nefarious ESUE were always up to something devious, including the wide array of proxy wars in the Sahel region and the Middle East. They had their hands shifting and pulling the threads of chaos. It would be only a matter of time until one of those threads snapped.

Duo shook his head at those concerning thoughts. He needed to stay focused. He was in La Tour, on this exceedingly hot day, as a reporter for the Japanese News Network (JNN), their military technology and mobile suit journalist or special correspondent. Oftentimes, he did more freelance work, but the company kept him busy.

The gig was an opportunity to monitor this new world without the hassle of sneaking around (although that was fun, too). He had the invented credibility and the intelligence, but he needed a paying and steady job.

He could not live off Quatre's money as the young Winner was more than willing to provide a helping hand. Duo told him not to bother; he was more than happy fending for himself. Life could only be lived by experiencing it to the fullest. To sleep it away was a waste of time and memories that could have been better spent doing something worthwhile. It made life more fun – and the news media was not that bad, either. They were a tad tedious and repetitive but not that bad.

Duo had showed up for an interview, with verified and analyzed data of mobile suits and military tech from all four nations, including their motivations, and had so impressed the senior correspondents that they gave him the job immediately after the interview. They called him Rookie at headquarters, but he would be making them eat their words soon. For as long as he was there, he was going to make a name for himself. And working for the news was also a nice cover job for his other unsavory work.

Duo smiled smoothly, bending his arms on the windowsill. The driver twitched his jaw and crossed his arms; wary dark eyes watched him in return. "You ain't gonna run away. I need to get back to the airport after this demonstration – and I kind of like you, ya know. So, help a man out," Duo said, pulling a smug smile.

The taxi driver released an exaggerated sigh. "Whatever. I understand. I'll wait. Just make sure you are on time," said the taxi driver, his accent deep and gravelly.

His tone was one of annoyance and suspicion. He did not seem to share the same boisterous attitude Duo had or seem to care if he had insulted him. Duo withheld a sarcastic reply as the man spoke again, this time frank and final.

"I'm leaving your ass here if you don't."

"Great! I won't forget. Catcha in a few," and Duo turned away and started walking toward the maneuvering ground.

He tugged on his suit's collar, hoping to bring some cool relief to his upper body. His armpits were pooling sweat into his undershirt. For an October day, the heat was sweltering, and although it was around ten in the morning, he could feel sweat cling and drench his clothes like he had just entered a sauna. He was smartly dressed in a navy-blue suit, with a white shirt, and a black tie, but at the moment, it felt unbearable.

Normally, accounting for the weather, and his own personal style, he would wear something light compared to the getup he had on, but, to his dismay, the job called for such a measure. They called it professionalism. Duo shivered at the word. It reeked of regulation.

Quatre would have laughed if he had caught Duo wearing something professionally (besides his Preventer uniform). He never did, he had no reason to, and he was the kind of laidback jackass to do his own thing. But this! A sneer on his lips, Duo's cobalt blue eyes appraised himself in disgust.

This was the worst! It was worse than an indignity because even indignities could be endured. This was a loss of self – his cool self! And Duo was vain enough to know his personality was tied to how he looked, and this look was not it.

He had still not acclimated to the Earth's temperatures and their intense weather patterns. Hailing from the L2 space colonies, weather control usually set ideal temperatures and climates. The sun was a factor, but it could be manipulated to suit colonists' interests. Comparably, on the Earth, Earthlings did not have that power and had to modify their environment to survive natural disasters and the intensity of the sun.

Duo looked ahead and saw many top military officials gather in the parking lot, heading from their cars, and ambling their way towards three rising structures where they housed the bleachers for the event. Anticipation shown on the faces of men and women in striking black and blue suits and reporters alike. Ahead of him, AEU officers patrolled the walkways heavily, prowling for anything suspicious or out of place, their eyes scanning the attendees perfunctorily, dancing from one target to the next. Their light blue uniforms, formfitting jackets with dark blue ties and peaked caps stood in contrast to the attendees; tidy, immaculate, arrogant, and all so annoyingly blue.

"The baby blue brigade out and on the prowl," Duo chuckled to himself.

Duo checked into security at the turnstiles, raising his badge, which was hanging from his neck, up, and gave a cheeky grin.

"I'm with JNN, the press."

The guards gave him and his credentials a measured look, nodded, and let him through. He hurried past the metal detectors and was directed toward the seats on the far left. He walked to the stairs where he came upon an entrance to the tiered seats. Many people were already there, chatting amongst themselves, taking pictures, scanning the audience. Others wore stern expressions, looking more constipated than serious, as their eyes roamed the training field, anticipation urging them to lean forward in childlike eagerness.

"Competition's gotta be tough for the Union," muttered Duo, and he took a seat in the back where the shade had gathered and covered the upper bleachers. He retrieved his tablet from his bag, turned it on, typed some words on the document and waited for the fun and action to begin.

In front of him, past the bleachers, was the main maneuvering field. They were city buildings to simulate combat in an urban terrain. Automated targets stood atop strategically positioned automated turrets at the far right of the city, glinting metallic black off their barrels. The objective was to shoot at the targets while the targets returned fire, showcasing the maneuverability and precision of the mobile suit and its pilot.

Further ahead of the city, a man-made lake was constructed for water combat simulations, and a grove of forests above it for forest-terrain combat simulations. Then past that was the semi-aridness of the savannah grasslands, the true suffers of the heat. Each battlefield was made to resemble the type of conditions and terrain a mobile suit and mobile armor pilots would encounter and how to utilize the environment to its highest efficiency and advantage. As he gazed upon the military base, a voice caught his attention and he turned to it.

"… I can't believe command would have us check this performance out," replied a male voice. "It's not like we'll see anything of worth that the AEU can compare against us. I say it's a waste of time seeing these weaklings monkey around for the world to see."

"Don't discount another nation's capabilities, major," replied another male voice, this one cooler in tone. "Arrogance, along with its brother Pride, leads capable men to destruction. Having this freedom to scout a rival's power is invaluable. Of course, I expect our being here might cause some commotion."

Duo raised his eyes, and then he hid a scowl. Great, he thought dryly, the Pink Brigade has joined the party.

He was not the only one whose mood had turned dour. Members from the AEU, the Union, HRL, and others, angled their heads to the four men dressed in dark pink. Scowls, frowns, uncompromising and resentful stares, were directed toward ESUE contingent. The anticipatory atmosphere dimmed and was slowly being replaced by brimming angry tension waiting to escape from battle wounds that were left unhealed.

Their impeccable dark pink shirts stood pronounced and glaring in the audience and were tucked into black dress pants. Thin, razor sharp, beige ties fell into their M-emblemed belt buckles that were forcibly restrained by thinner black shoulder straps. M-emblemed pins were donned on their ties and their pink-and-black peak caps. Black arm bands with the ESEU logo covered their right biceps. However, what differentiated these troops from the regular army, were their golden phoenix pins donned triumphantly and pridefully on their collars.

These were the Phoenix Troopers, the ESUE's elite forces. If OZ's Specials had a successor, then these troopers were its brutal personification, a far more zealous, extremist sect of the ESUE. Duo had written a scathing rebuke about them, and how they specialized breeding terror around the world. They had left a bad taste in his mouth that reminded him of his own universe.

With stellar battle performances, the Phoenix Troopers were granted the autonomy to act on their own within any battlefield independent of the regular army. There wasn't much known about this mysterious special operations group besides their excellent battle record and brutal conduct on the battlefield. What Duo had gleaned from an insider were that this group was the military wing of the Foundation and acted only on orders from Dekim and General Valder Farkill, the Minister of Foreign Affairs and leader of the Phoenix Troopers. The stories from survivors on what they did in Afghanistan and Pakistan along with the Mobile Doll 1st Independent Detachment Group was nothing short of monstrous.

Duo then brought his curious eyes onto someone else, a notable in the pink chicken brigade. Colonel Erik X. The Black Lion. A dark-skinned man in his mid-twenties with flowing dreadlocks that curved around his left eye and had cheek bones that were carved from rugged mountains. He wore two, black epaulets with a short mid-waist black cape donning his right side.

Duo had read about the man, and Duo's intrigue and distrust had only seemed to grow the more he knew about him. He was a native of former South Africa, had joined the ESUE's burgeoning militia, Origin, when the two entities had joined forces in 2303 and rebelled against the AEU. He had led them to great victories on and off the battlefield but was especially brilliant in uniting neutral nations against the HRL-, AEU-, and Union-influenced African nations and kingdoms. His record on the battlefield was more than stellar.

Duo expected Colonel Erik X's rise contributed to the expansion of the ESEU's foreign policy. What was more insidious and devious, the lingering of OZ's treachery, was his military advising role in the proxy wars in Northern Africa and the Sahel. The man was given a vast number of resources for clandestine operations. Duo was lucky he had got that tip from his informant, otherwise many of the general public would be none the wiser of how much control this prominent young colonel had.

Colonel Erik X looked around the bleachers, his stern features set in impassiveness until they melted into something of a feral smile as his eyes lit up like a candle. He had found a new prey as his eyes silently stalked and remained on Duo's form. Without prompting, Erik moved towards him, his followers at his heels like loyal dogs. Duo sat up and crossed his arms. Today was not going his way at all.

The Black Lion stopped in front of him, his smile still terrifying and predatory. The men behind stared threateningly at him. A beat passed, and then Duo spoke up. "Ya came to say hi or what? If not, you're blocking my view. This isn't something I'm willin' to miss, not even for a person like you."

The Black Lion chuckled lowly. "I did not expect for you to be here. Funny how the world works that you would end up in my territory, Duo Maxwell."

Duo shrugged, raising an eyebrow. He would have snorted but felt, ideally, it would not be the best time or have a good effect on the man. "You seemed to be well informed on who I am. Your territory, huh? We're still on AEU grounds, pal."

Colonel X raised an eyebrow; his lips curled slyly. "Indeed, we are, as of now. Quite frankly, it's all semantics. This continent belongs to us. You are on borrowed time. Like the rest of these colonizers and leeches."

"Is that a threat to the other three great nations?" Duo asked lightly, but there was a clip to his tone.

The man was not wrong. The AEU were on borrowed time. With the technology ESEU possessed, and now the man and machine power they were able to attain from the mineral rich regions they conquered, they had the capability to consummate their victory. The only variable left was how much time did the other three great nations have.

"No," replied Colonel X coolly. "Knowing you and the lying press, you would manipulate my words into starting another world war. A talent one such as you is known for: a serpent tongue that speaks human and the devil's language. Lies disguised as truths."

Duo laughed. This was rich. "My tongue may not be a serpent, but it certainly comes from the God of Death and manifests the ills of this world. Don't be deluded by your own lies, pal."

Colonel X hummed, his eyes shining in amusement or misplaced cruelty. "I'm sure. But I'm losing track of time. No, I did not come to block your view, Mr. Maxwell. I simply came to understand my target."

Duo blinked. An incredulous look appeared on his face; one he could not mask if he tried. Now, he was curious. "Me? Your target? As honored as I am for being on the top of the Black Kitty list, I don't think I'm worth it."

The Black Lion's men scowled and ambled forward at the slight. Colonel X merely waved his hand at them, and they fell back begrudgingly like the small shadows they were. Colonel X ignored the slight as he said, "Mr. Maxwell, you underestimate your value to me and my nation. I wonder how a man like you could receive top confidential information on ESUE operations. It's not something many are privy to."

Duo smiled easily as Erik leered down at him with baleful and demanding eyes. He gave a slight shrug to humor the man, and said, "Well, you should really be finding that out yourself. It seems like there are those against your nation's romantic aspirations of world conquest and militaristic upheaval and terrorism. I'm just a witness receivin' the news and spreadin' the good word."

"Militaristic upheaval are dirty words, Mr. Maxwell," Erik replied. He then spread his arms and said, "I like to call uniting the world in common revolution against the threats to our nation and the world's deranged governments and their colonial mentality a benevolence to the citizens of the Earth. Someone's got to take command and throw off the shackles of their oppressors."

Erik then leaned forward, hands balled at his sides, and eyes glinting in malice. "Liberation is not without its casualties. Man must change through reformation and conflict if he wants to survive the world's cruelty."

"Even if that means invasion and war?" Duo countered lowly. "Sounds downright awful to me. The hurt, taking their pain, and exploiting others. The oppressed becoming the oppressor. Sounds like a repeating cycle of violence I don't wanna be a part of. So, count me out of it."

Leaning back, Colonel X smiled at his response and said, "You didn't answer my question. What you received and what you and your vile JNN press spread, about our goals, our people, our ideals, are terribly misinformed. The individual who must have sent you our information must have had special privileges within our organization. Tell your people we are watching very closely. I'd hesitate to make any more unnecessary moves if I were you. I hope we don't meet again, Mr. Maxwell."

The Black Lion gave a curt nod and headed down the bleachers to the open seats at the bottom. Duo scrunched his face in distaste as he gave the ESUE contingent another look of disgust. Duo would have felt his middle finger to their backs would have justified his loathing, but he realized that he was not the story here, or his nasty retaliation. He then shook his head, wondering about what to do about this information. He would need to tell his informant somehow, less they grow overconfident in their next indulgence.

Let's just get this show on the road, he thought irritably. He had a feeling by the end of this performance he would be watching his back while he was in country. As if hearing his thoughts, the AEU announcer spoke:

"May we have your attention. To the HRL, Union, the ESUE, to our many various guests from around the world, we would like to thank you for your participation on this momentous occasion. We will now begin testing of the AEU-09 AEU Enact in two minutes."

"About damn time," Duo said, leaning back against his seat, propping his feet against the back of the empty bleacher seat in front of him, and placing his tablet on his lap, his hands on his camera and aiming it at an incoming sea green figure in the distance. The machine flew south of the orbital elevator's direction, and his camera went wild as he zoomed in, catching the machine of war in flight.

The suit circled the field like a hawk. The sunlight glistened off the turquoise armor in resplendence. Its legs were in the rear, acting as jet propulsion; two double wings on the side, the ones to the starboards larger and longer than the ones near the aft; its linear rifle was its beak on the aft and under the wings, two arms stuck out like engines. The mobile suit's manipulators were closed in solid fists.

After its round, the suit slowed in the air, and transformed, the metal contorting into mobile suit mode. There was an approving chorus of ohs and ahs for the midair transformation. Only gifted and experienced pilots were capable of such acrobatic talent, especially in the heat of combat. The move required the pilot to handle the shift change in increased momentum and G-forces.

The pilot made it look easy, Duo thought with approval.

The Enact shifted from the waist, becoming a vertical metal man, the rifle now gripping in its right manipulator. The mobile suit's face was shaped like a boomerang, with the main camera visor at the axis. It had a short neck leading to a bulky chest frame, a thin abdomen, a wide pelvis with smaller wings flanking each side flowing to slender legs. Its spiked kneecaps ended at heeled spiky feet, where two more spikes protruded. The shoulders were long and bulky, and the larger wings flanked behind it, next to the two propulsion engines. Behind the hips, two more engines were parallel from the top engines.

The Enact fell behind a cliff, its back away from the orbital elevator, and out of sight.

"I, Patrick Colasour, the ace of the AEU, have arrived!" the pilot proclaimed from the suit's speaker system.

Duo groaned miserably at Patrick's proclamation. Of course, Patrick Colasour would test the new unit, the winner of over 2,000 mock battles, and one of the AEU's most celebrated and annoying and arrogant assholes of the nation. The man was just a glorified test pilot with a battle record so sparse, one could get lost in the blank space.

Duo had met the guy once while he was covering his 2000th mock battle – something forced by JNN when he had tried to refuse. The bastards. They had no remorse for him. Not like it changed his original opinion of the man, and that was still abysmally low.

Patrick was a man Duo had a hard time taking seriously. Sure, the man was great on the mock battlefield circuit, his feats above average. He also had a good but limited combat record. He was sure the AEU placed him on covers of magazines and media, to purposefully put him in the public limelight and increase recruitment. With a handsome man like that, full of charisma, brilliance, and proudly arrogant and nationalistic – the kind that thought he was the god of men – who would not be wooed by such allure?

Patrick had a handsome face with sharp and pointed features and fluffy, long, red hair that looked like it spent too much time in a hairdresser. When he smiled, angels sung, or so what Duo had found from his crazed fans on message boards and social media. But Patrick's greatest feat of all? He had the predilection for chauvinism and being an ass.

Many would call Duo jealous; however, he was anything but. If arrogance was personified in human form, then God molded Patrick into that shape and filled him up to the brim with pride. Pride and arrogance were intertwined in the creation of Patrick, and he wore that as a badge of honor. He bragged about how many women he seduced, how talented he was compared to veteran pilots, how many accolades and awards he received (many of them noncombat-related). His lascivious eyes and desire never new no bounds and were always drinking for more.

Unfortunately for Duo, Patrick and he were at odds for Duo made it known, besides how skilled the pilot was, he wrote him in a column as an arrogant braggart. Patrick had been livid was an understatement. The idiot had tried getting him fired, saying he did not know, as a journalist, the art of piloting and mock battles. Duo's public email and social media had been barraged by Patrick and his fans' caustic remarks. Duo had nearly become catatonic from laughing at Patrick's disparagement.

The man seriously did not know his battle history because if he did, then Duo would have wiped the arrogance completely from his face. Duo dreamed of that often, and it made him smile from time to time. Too bad it was only a dream. If he could only make that a reality someday.

A loud alarm sounded in the stadium, and Duo refocused his attention on the field. In a burst of motion, the Enact, propelled by its four engines, took the field in aggression and flamboyancy. The AI controlled defense, spotting him from their cameras, responded by firing burst of yellow shells at the Enact.

The Enact weaved through the linear yellow shells with tremendous speed, dodging a burst near its shoulder and maneuvering acrobatically over the shells, swiftly dodging others as it closed in, like a swift bird of prey. Patrick's over-eagerness and -confidence displayed in full view as he hounded closer to the first set of targets, bringing his rifle up and firing four blue beam rounds, destroying the targets soundly. Patrick then climbed higher, flipping upside down. The machine fired three more shots, hitting the five targets at its rear.

Duo leaned forward in his seat, eyes wide with astonishment. It was not the maneuver that Patrick performed that had amazed him, no, he could care less of the man's performance. Indeed, what had just happened was not produced by the pilot but the machine's mechanics. It was the striking blue that came out the rifle that had gripped him so.

"Beam weaponry!" Duo exploded, nearly standing up as his legs trembled from the rush of energy.

He saw others around the stadium in fits of unrest, on their feet while the rest, like under a spell, were compelled to watch the Enact and its blue destructive energy. Duo had not thought the AEU would arrive this fast as their main focus had been on the orbital elevators. What the AEU had done would only heighten tensions around the world, Duo was sure of that, but this put the AEU into a group of known nations that utilized beam weaponry.

Duo refocused his gaze on the blitzing machine, eyes narrowing, and mind in speedy contemplation over this new piece of information. The Enact charged to the ground at the mid-level guns. The Enact brought its left arm up and its defense rod, a rotating rod usually connected to the elbow joint of the mobile suits left arm, deflected the shells and returned fire, annihilating five more targets consecutively. Patrick again rose into the air once more.

As all this was happening, Duo was taking precise shots of each motion – "not bad, not bad, Mr. So-called Ace. I'll give you some credit for the flashy performance. Only you would be able to display the talents of showcasing the Enact's capabilities. Though, it's definitely a carbon copy of the Flag."

The SVMS-01 Union Flag, the Union's mass-produced and high-performance suit, was a-near facsimile of the Enact, a slenderer and more stylish light sky-blue version of the suit. The head was rounder, had an orange visor, two antennae were situated on the sides of the head – the left side bigger than the right - and the structure was more geometrical than its copy, the Enact. Besides the structure the output was remarkably similar, Duo noted humorously, as he continued taking more pictures.

"The Union's not gonna like that," Duo murmured, "but I doubt they would care."

And why would they? If the Enact was the only promotion they could show of their power, then the HRL and the Union had everything in the bag with their solar energy towers. The ESUE, although without a solar tower, had a strong presence in space – a tense presence among the HRL and Union. They would surely laugh or scoff. Even with the competitive edge of beam weaponry.

This performance was a farce, and most of the spectators knew that well.

Duo turned his attention to the tablet in his lap. The pictures were sent and updated to the G-cloud storage. The main terminal database was stored on A-O III. He typed on the tablet and brought up the specs and compared it to the Flag. This camera was special as it collected data and sent it to his tablet. Howard and he had updated the camera with components from the Search Eye function that were installed in the Gundams and refined it to fit in this little handy camera.

It made analyzing enemy suits, surreptitiously, easy.

The resulting data popped open on his tablet screen. The Enact was slightly shorter than the Flag by 0.3 meters, giving its full height at 17.3 meters, weighing at 66.8 metric tons. The armor was composed of E-carbon armor, an artificial artrotrope of carbon, and mostly used in construction of mobile suits and the orbital elevators. Despite being based on the Flag, it did not use the same E-Carbon fuel system. The Enact's fuel tank was located on its back and was used for its propulsion system, and judging by the solar system, the Enact should, theoretically, have unlimited operational time, if it stayed in its territories.

Duo had to applaud the capabilities of these new suits; they far surpassed the Aires suit of his own home – in mobility, maneuverability, atmospheric flight. However, he wondered, in battle, what suit would come out on top, the Taurus III or the Flag and Enact.

Someone else, apparently, was thinking alike when they said aloud, "The Enact is just an imitation of the Flag, besides the exterior parts, anyways."

As the Enact finished its test, it paused in the air and turned its head to the bleachers. It flew to the crowd, landing near the bleachers. The seats trembled under its landing, and Duo gripped his tablet from falling out of his hands. The cockpit opened and a brash Patrick ran out, standing at the edge of the cockpit ramp, a hand on his hip and the other holding his helmet, his flailing fiery red hair as angry and agitated as his expression.

"Hey - you there!" Patrick yelled at a blond-haired man and a bespectacled man with a long ponytail. "I can hear you! Take that back! Now! Come on!"

And then he pointed arrogantly at the pink brigade contingent. "Don't think I didn't hear what you said, too. The Enact is far superior to your little bull."

Laughter erupted from Duo's lips at Patrick's hilarities. The man could not contain himself when he felt his or his country's pride attacked and reduced to a cheap knock off. Besides his arrogance, he was the AEU's top cheerleader. More than once, his cheerleaders, Patrick's fellow soldiers or technicians, bragged openly about the man. And if the man was present, oh boy did his ego balloon to the size of a mountain.

Looking at the two men harangued by Patrick, Duo leaned a bit closer as he recognized the duo. "Well, well, well, if this ain't a gathering of top Union military officials."

The dashingly handsome, windswept blond hair of the white-skinned American was the legendary Graham Aker, First Lieutenant of the Mobile Suit Warehouse and Development. At the age of 27, Graham was an incredible ace pilot who had served in the ESEU's war and various operations during the Solar Wars. Graham rose to prominence and notoriety after killing his leading officer during a mock battle testing new suits, or so was the story. Confirmation of details were scarce, but the death of his leading officer was a surety.

He soon became a man to look out for during his battles in Monrovia, Liberia, holding back a mobile doll force of the ESEU while evacuating personnel at the Union-American diplomatic embassy compound. He personally shot down 10 mobile suits that day, earning an Air Force Cross. The man had a certain caliber to him that reminded Duo of his friends – the terrifying exhilaration and thirst for battle.

Watching footage of his missions, the man was as unpredictable as he was fierce and daring on the battlefield. He reminded Duo of Zechs as his maneuvers were strategic and his ability to favor fast-moving suits in aerial combat, if given the chance, could soon rival the formerly masked man. Despite this similarity, Graham was more brash than Zechs, sometimes to a point of self-destruction, but the guy knew his limits. Graham was never one for the press, the anthesis of Patrick, and chose to remain out of the spotlight unless on the battlefield.

Privacy was his domain. But that wouldn't stop Duo from interviewing him about his thoughts on this performance test.

Duo watched Graham gaze upon Patrick amusedly, his lips curling into a small smile as Patrick bellowed a storm of indignation. Sitting next to him was another prominent star, but this one in the realm of mobile suit engineering. The Japanese man, Billy Katagiri, looked delighted at Patrick's gesticulations as humor brightened his face. The brown-haired, bespectacled man was a scientist of multiple disciplines. A graduate and Suma Cum Laude at the Union International University, Katagiri worked with the fame professor, Ralph Eifman, someone who Duo wanted to interview very much.

Eifman was an erudite of the highest sciences, a man devoted to knowledge and scholarly integrity. People rarely impressed Duo, but those that did, he kept a particular eye on them. Eifman was one such person. To interview Eifman would have been a dream for Duo, a dream that never seemed to come into fruition.

The man had a busy schedule and would bypass media interviews and conventions. His world revolved around engineering and science, thus after graduating MIT and then receiving his post-doctoral degree at ETH Zurich, he had joined the Union, collaborating on mobile suit technology. He had soon found his teaching at the Union International University in Berlin, Germany whilst working with the Union military. Duo had sent his assistant emails for an interview, but alas he was denied or delayed.

As Duo went back to perusing his mobile suit data, a message from Howard popped up. Duo furrowed his brow as he read over the message, his eyes becoming sharper and darker, and he looked up, seeing something approach from the stratosphere, wisps of green particles trailing behind it like the tail of a meteorite. As the figure descended into view of his camera's zoom, his mouth dropped open.

"A Gundam! What the hell is a Gundam doing here?!" Duo hurriedly placed his tablet on his seat, stood up and started zooming in on the suit. As soon as he clicked away, the Gundam descended to the military grounds and landed near the bleachers. A crackling sounded from his camera. He tried taking a few more shots, but the resulting clicks from the camera stopped.

"Electrical interference, huh," Duo speculated as he placed the camera in his satchel. "Pretty strong."

The Gundam was eccentric and alien in its design, something otherworldly. It certainly did not call to mind anything Duo could think of that resembled such a build. The Gundam had a slender build, painted in the colors of blue and white. Like all Gundams, the V-fin decorated the head, and the angular green eyes were a facsimile to his own Gundam, and the chest frame – like his universe's mobile suits - had a large blue armor covering a dark green orb, perhaps a sensor of some kind.

The armor covered the shoulders and gold fins, on each chest, speared into the air. Red colored the waist and feet; and the legs were gray like steel. A sword was tucked underneath its forearm shield.

"Are you from the Union? AEU? HRL? ESUE? Well, I'm Mr. Special! And you're going to lose like all the rest," Patrick proclaimed, reentering and closing his cockpit.

The Enact's visor glowed yellow in battle readiness. From the hip, the Enact pulled out a sonic blade, and Duo covered his ears as the sound sharply pierced the air, screeching like grinding metal. It was a thousand times worse than nails on an ancient chalkboard. He gritted his teeth at the Enact as his jaw muscles tightened like clamps. Any more pressure and he was afraid he would crack his teeth.

"That idiot! Does he not know they're people here?" Duo managed to shout through his clenched teeth, still gripping his ringing ears.

The Enact charged forward, and when it was in range struck its blade at the Gundam. The Gundam's eyes glowed green, and in a flash, the Gundam's sword unfolded and slashed the arm in quick succession. The audience appeared shocked, as the arm smashed into the ground, a tremor shaking the bleachers from impact. The Enact proceeded to use its rifle, and blue bursts flew at the Gundam.

The Gundam effortlessly dodged the pointblank range attack, sidestepping, spinning, with an agility exceeding normal mobile suits. When it was close, the Gundam pulled out a pink beam saber and slashed at the rifle arm. The Enact's left arm fell and then the Gundam used its momentum in a spinning slash at the head. The head and the AEU's hopes and ambitions, their military might, Patrick's scream of denial – "I won over 2000 mock battles!" - fell to the ground, conquered… by a Gundam.

A terrified silence gripped the audience. Their state was in disbelief, the machine, capable of competing against the Flag and Taurus, was cut down in all its glory. The Gundam, its green particles coming from its conical engine, flew off to the orbital elevator. Duo watched it go, grinning like a child at a surprise birthday party. He whistled lowly, appreciating the Gundam's performance.

It was a close-quarter combat suit with mid-range capabilities. The suit was versatile and its ability to maneuver, like water, was exceptionally brilliant and uncanny. The pilot was skilled, but, unfortunately, through this little display, Duo noticed the holes in the pilot's skill: the pilot relied on the Gundam's abilities too much. It was not obvious to an untrained eye, but Duo experienced plenty of battles and he knew a thing or two on how to use a mobile suit. The pilot needed work perfecting their own style than relying on the Gundam's natural combat programs.

And the fact the Gundam was not the one to provoke the situation, left Duo concerned. Did the pilot drop in to warn the AEU or showboat its design? If he were the pilot, he would have ravaged the base and mobile suit before it had time to gather acuity. Surprise and stealth attacks were the best approach, not some random display of power, if that was the mission.

So, he wondered to himself, what is the point, Gundam? Why cause this big show?

Duo could hear the alarm claxons screaming as AEU-05/05 AEU Hellion Perpetuums flight mode suits jetted off runways and appeared from the orbital elevator to confront the Gundam. They appeared in elements of three to four, charging at the threat, courageous in their would-be attempt to stop the Gundam. Hellions were the standard suits of the AEU, the third incarnation of mass-produced Hellion suits with long legs and a shorter upper body, and yet Duo knew they would lose as soon as they took the field.

Fighting a Gundam left no room for amateur mistakes, and the AEU, in all of their military might, looked to be making such mistakes. This wasn't going to turn out pretty Duo thought with a wince.

Another thought barreled into Duo, one that sparked a momentous epiphany, especially for a great headline. The surplus of suits attacking the Gundam surprised him. It was more than the treaty designated of suits – and Duo smiled knowingly – "Not only did they reveal the Gundams, but they also revealed the buildup of arms to the world, from the AEU! Those sly bastards. Ha! I bet the ESUE aren't gonna like that!"

He chuckled, shaking his head in wonder. Whoever this team was, if this was the intention, they were good. He'd give them that at least as a Hellion fell from the sky, its wing clipped by a blow from the Gundam's sword. The pilot had enough acuity to eject, but the damaged vessel fell to the ground and impacted in a brilliant explosion of flame and smoke. Duo had hope there wasn't any residential areas nearby, they wouldn't have made it out in time.

"Everyone, please head to the shelters until this crisis is over," said an announcer over the speaker system. AEU personnel filed into the bleachers, directing the mass of people to the exits. An AEU personnel saw him and urged him down with a wave of his hand.

Duo ignored him, sat back down, and watched the spectacular fireworks from the Gundam fighting an overwhelming force of Hellions. The squadron of Hellions had confined the Gundam, but its mobility kept them on guard from a distance. Then, a purple beam erupted from the ground, lancing one of the Hellions.

A sniper?! Duo guessed, looking in the direction of the suit, hidden by the mountains and foliage. The sniper unit fired multiple shots at the Hellions. The beams hit home, and the close-quartered combat Gundam seized its opportunity and sliced its way out of the battlefield. Suddenly, Duo felt his arm grabbed by a hulking AEU soldier and dragged away from the battle, curses spouting from his lips as he caught the last images of the battle before moving inside the facility.

An hour later, after the departure of the Gundams, the attendees could leave. Duo found himself jittery from restrained excitement and nerves. The battle had left him riled up, and he couldn't shake the feeling of something ominous at the appearance of the Gundams. It had to mean something, he was sure of it, as those green GN particles looked eerily like what he had remembered in After Colony.

As he strolled out the building, he flipped through his camera on the pictures of the mysterious Gundam. Duo blinked in surprise at his taxi driver waiting in the parking lot because he thought the driver would have left by now. Any sane person would have left at the start of the shooting than become collateral damage in a barren place like this.

He clicked open the door and entered the cab. The driver turned his astounded and sweaty face to him – "Did you see that! What in the – how – how did a battle start here?! I couldn't even leave because they grounded all vehicles!"

Duo chuckled but his eyes were bereft of mirth, only a seriousness laid in them. "Buddy, it was a Gundam."

---

The cabby took him into the city, to the airport, but all flights were grounded for the threat level was still high, and he had to put down reservations for another day's stay in his hotel room. In his room, he took a quick shower, relishing the stress of the day leaving his body. All his mind could do, without stopping, was contemplate the day's excitement.

He soon came out the shower, a towel over his head, in a white buttoned shirt that was open at the collar, and a pair of black leather pants. He felt a smirk light his features as the colors of the screen danced around the walls of the room. "This day just gets more interestin'," he remarked casually, eyes staring in wonder at the television.

The television was on, blaring breaking news information, with Aeolia Schenburg's debut speech:

I would like to address this statement to every single human being born and raised on Earth. We call ourselves simply Celestial Being. We are a private armed organization in possession of the mobile weapon Gundam. The main objective of Celestial Being's activities is to completely eliminate acts of war from this world. We do not act for our own benefit or for personal gain. We have chosen to intervene for the greatest goal of all to rid ourselves of the scourge of war. As of this moment I make this declaration to all humanity. Territory, religion, energy no matter what the reason or excuse if there is an evident act of war being carried out, we will commence intervention with our force. Any country, organization or corporation that promotes war will also be a legitimate target for our intervention. We simply call ourselves Celestial Being. We are an armed organization that was established to eliminate all acts of war from this world. I repeat...

The television blared Aeolia's rebellious declaration to the world loudly in the hotel room where Duo stayed. It was the only thing on or relevant, for that matter, on every channel. The news replayed his speech in its cyclical amnesia, to remind the audience how a mysterious armed organization, with Gundams, throttled the AEU at La Tour. The news brought up whether Celestial Being were terrorists or saviors, considering how two Gundams saved the HRL's Heaven's Pillar orbital elevator's low orbiting ring from a terroristic plot.

Duo found the whole ordeal amusing. Had he not been a Gundam pilot and served his time on the battlefield, he would have been just like every ordinary citizen with their mouths agape and in a frenzy, at the unique capabilities and bullishness of Celestial Being. He would have been the first to offer his opinion, amid the dramatic backdrop of towers of black smoke and raging gunfire of combatants, yelling in a shelter to a camera, microphone hugging his chest, as if it would be his last dance on Earth.

Too bad he was not and took it all in stride.

Gundams attacking military targets, who would have thought? he thought sarcastically, smiling as his photos appeared on the JNN news affiliate channel here in La Tour. They were great shots and included the battle around La Tour. He was upset he could not get any closer due to AEU's personnel. They shielded him from danger like a helicopter parent over an unruly child. If he could had swept away in the chaotic confusion, he imagined the amazing shots he would have captured.

Unfortunately, he was stuffed in a confined shelter and made to wait when the firefight had finished. Getting back to the hotel had been hectic – from the constant stops and questionings at checkpoints, to the pandemonium of the Gundams' skirmish against the AEU, and the armed patrols that decorated street corners and claimed streets – it felt like the world was on edge. Gundams were on Earth, proclaiming, in their violence, the eradication of conflict.

He certainly could not have predicted the Gundam arrival. The thoughts of Gundam existing in this universe had crossed his mind, but it seemed futile as Aeolia was long dead. Aeolia had never left them with any insurance of his goals or intentions besides Howard's stories. From his speech Celestial Being released, he had different motivations than he and his comrades during Operation Meteor. Completely different. It seemed the man like to give information when needed or when it fit some part of his warped plan.

"Damn," Duo muttered, sitting on his bed, his back resting against the headboard. He rubbed his hand down his face and bemoaned, "How come all Gundam engineers have to be eccentric? These old men will never let me be nor unveil their close guarded secrets. This is so lame."

The room suddenly shuddered, shaking the lamps and appliances, and jolting Duo alert. He quickly stood and moved to the window, opening the blinds to spy three Hellion Perpetuums flying in element in the evening sky. They gathered with four others and then dispersed across the city. The city was on high alert, and by how nervous the AEU looked it could only mean a delay for him to get back to the Special Economic Jurisdiction of Japan.

He tiredly sighed and slouched into his sofa by the window. Today had been one tiring thing after another. Apparently, Aeolia's Celestial Being had done another intervention during the 10th anniversary of Heaven's Pillar. Two more Gundam sought to show themselves and obliterate some suicidal terrorists threatening the orbital elevator. JNN News was barely able to capture their pictures, just blurred images, before their particles jammed all communication devices.

Gundam. Four Gundams in total, so far. Four Gundams to unite the world through violence. How poetic, Duo thought, chuckling, the irony is ridiculous.

It reminded him of his own time as a freedom fighter, attacking the threats known to the colonies. He held invincible power at his fingertips – the Gundam – and raged a guerilla war that grew into tragedy and then peace. It was a titanic struggle that consumed the Earth Sphere and all her people. It had left him betrayed, lost, and redeemed.

"Are they ready to start a war, to put their lives on the line, and risk it all?" Duo asked to the room, eyes on the ceiling. Only the television answered him with commercials of toothpaste. Lucky Brand. Whitens and fights plaque.

He chuckled again, but it was hollow and mirthless. It was the kind of laugh that knew the gravity of a grave course of action. "They better be ready, cause the world isn't gonna be forgiving. Good intentions can pave the way to hell, and hell would be a great place considerin' what these people will subject themselves too."

Duo reached down to the floor and pulled out his tablet from his satchel. He checked his inbox and found multiple messages from his colleagues. Most wanted to know if he had any more information or pictures, others were concerned. One, he found amusing, as her messages matched the number of copious text messages on his phone. Too young his ass, he snorted, looking through Kinue Crossroad's messages.

He forgot through all the commotion to text her that he was okay. How could he forget that? As he was about to video call her, an alert came on his tablet, flashing with a red exclamation mark notification over his message box. He raised an eyebrow at the number. It was from the Gundam Circuit.

He answered the call, finding more than one person on the video call. A conference call? he thought, surprised. Noin's serious face graced his screen, followed by Quatre who looked in-between being concerned and delighted, and then the relaxed countenance of Howard.

Duo greeted them with "How's it hanging? Didn' expect y'all callin' me this early."

"Do you answer all biweekly debriefings this cheerful?" Noin asked, shaking her head. "I shouldn't be surprised. This is who you are."

"If you're not Une, then hell yeah," Duo said simply, shrugging, as he laid an arm on the armrest of his sofa. "Besides, you're not as scary as Une. She, right there, can be vicious when she needs to be."

Getting on Lady Une's bad side had not been a pleasurable experience. The tools she was willing to use to claim victory, even in small arguments, made a shiver pass through his spine. Luckily, she had a soft spot for him and the other Gundam pilots. He guessed the war, and losing Treize, had done a toll on her psyche. A far better toll than fighting her unforgiving and merciless self during the war. That particular Lady Une was not someone to cross or double-cross. He had heard how General Septum had died and that wasn't a river he was willing to fall in.

A small smile grew on Noin's lips, and her eyes looked as if they understood him. She probably did as Une was her superior – still was in some odd way despite being colleagues. "Who wants to debrief first?" Noin asked.

Duo raised his hand. "I'll go. I figure I got more important stuff to share. You all got my cloud info on today's ego showin', so I'll get to the good part."

He debriefed his fellows on the day, getting enthusiastic at how the Gundams performed. He noted the striking differences between the two and how effectively they relied on their Gundams' strengths and each other's teamwork. Celestial Being, he speculated, emphasized specific combat roles, but without more sufficient intelligence he could only surmise. He put an emphasis on his meeting with the Black Lion and the AEU's breaching the La Tour Defense Treaty of appropriate designated military hardware stored inside the orbital elevator.

Quatre was the first one to speak after Duo's summary. A hint of surprise shined in his eyes. "Did they really seek to incapacitate?"

"Yeah. It was a shock to me too. I'm sure lives were lost – we'll probably get the total by tomorrow. Yet, unlike the two in space, they only killed when necessary. Most of their attacks were nonlethal blows."

Patrick should have died today. The way the Gundam moved outclassed the Enact's pilot. This had to be a warning to the AEU, and the Gundam made that clear as day. Hopefully, this gave Patrick some time to think over his ego and humble himself.

Losing, and with the AEU's new mobile suit no less, would not improve his standing with his commanders, technicians, and engineers. Patrick would probably get a sympathy vote from his deranged fans. They'd probably file a grievance against Celestial Being for injuring their vaunted hero. Duo could imagine the message boards, whining and decrying, complaining and seeking vengeance for their lone and brave hero whose total defeat would be framed as a training failure.

"This was a warning," Quatre echoed Duo's thoughts out loud, "a signal of the growing arms race between all four nations. It was a call to deescalate. Conversely, I feel like this may ramp up arms. All nations are going to be on the defensive. How could they not when an unknown entity eliminated their best mobile suit so completely. Has there been any news from the ESUE?"

"Nothing major," Duo said, finding the train of thought disturbing. "Just their mindless drabble of makin' their nation great and how the AEU has betrayed the trust of the people, betrayed the trust of the ESUE and should be held accountable. More propaganda that the AEU is planning to withhold on the promise of energy distribution. They're riling up their base, nothing more so far than the usual clandestine tactics."

"So, they're quiet on the Gundam situation…" Noin said, her voice sounded distant, like she was talking to herself. "Strange. Ordinarily, by how warlike their people are, they would have sounded the sirens and began offensive preparation against Celestial Being, even planning military exercises as a deterrence."

Quatre agreed and said, "They're waiting. Their economy, like the Union's, has finally stabilized after their conquest and minor revolts from the indigenous people they conquered. They were pretty brutal from the records I've seen."

"Still are, Quatre," Duo grimly corrected, now seeing Quatre's frown deepen in worry. "Still are."

"Annexing all that territory into a single national economy won't happen overnight," Howard said, nodding thoughtfully. "Business investments, trade routes, reorganizing labor and industries…"

Howard stroked his beard and added, "Maintaining a peacetime and wartime economy put them in a precarious situation, which is why the vast resources that Africa provides has been a boon for them. It is a moneymaker and has only deepened the ties between the continent and space. And of course, their wallets.

"Now Duo, what's your next move? You gotta be careful with the ESUE folk. They're not gonna like it if you keep in their business." Howard gave a pointed look to him.

Duo pulled on his collar a bit and then answered, "I'm gonna return to Tokyo. Now that Gundams are here, my job's going to get busier than usual. It would be terrific if my sleep schedule remained the same, but I don't see that happenin' anytime soon. Maybe I can ask the chief for a few days off to get my head straight. There's nothing like drowning in paperwork in the excitement of daily breaking news."

"You can always work for me," Quatre offered, his turquoise eyes appraising him. "Judging by your new suit, your job has taken away your identity."

Duo groaned, palming his face. "For the love of…" he muttered. Quatre had noticed. He should have put away his suit jacket more discreetly instead of plastering it over the sofa like a rug.

Duo, of course, rejected his offer. He liked the freedom of travel journalism offered compared to bodyguard duty or experiencing the wonderful life of macro- and micro-economics. The thought of numbers, so many numbers, left him feeling uncomfortable. Perhaps, it was the lingering feeling of the Zero System and all of that raw data filtering into his mind that made him less agreeable on taking the offer and wary of number-inducing mania.

Quatre took it in stride, merely shrugging, not looking put-off by the rejection.

"If that's it, how about you, Quatre?" Noin asked, eyes moving to the platinum blond, and Quatre nodded in turn.

Quatre filled them in on his coming meeting with Marina Ismail the Princess Royal of the Kingdom of Azadistan. Quatre's offer to fund solar energy panels and generators had been a boon to the near-economic-collapsing country, although the princess had accepted it a bit tentatively. He was going there to oversee the reconstruction of a facility. There had been an attack on his employees which had sent Quatre into indignation. He had been hearing dire reports of the Conservative Party's anger at his intrusion.

"They don't like foreigners," Quatre said sadly, "and they see my donation of goodwill as traversing over their beliefs and national sovereignty. I am also concerned for my engineers and their state of safety. If they agree to our negotiations, operations can begin."

Duo knew of Quatre's challenges; he kept up to date with Azadistan's news and the surrounding countries. The reformists were advocates of change at the detriment of the conservatives who felt, since the solar crisis of the past, left out. They had been taking their anger to the streets, at times becoming violent against the reformists. The heavy sanctions on oil exports had spiraled Azadistan's economy to its knees. The Royal Yasmin, from what he had seen from reports, had been a blessing for the country.

Quatre's company, The Royal Yasmin Company, had grown tremendously since its inception in September of 2306. From forging metals in space and the production of resource satellites to building infrastructure for solar generators and antennae for economically developing nations, business had increased exponentially. The Union, HRL, and AEU were benefitting from Quatre's industry as well.

The loans he had gotten for his idea were all from the HRL, Union, and AEU in a mission to foster cooperation between three global leaders. Besides their zero-sum game, alliances for space habitation proceeded in cooperation. The ESUE was the only exception, refusing to do business as it competed with their own resource plants. The distrust from the other three nations brought business to Quatre's doorstep, completely omitting any organization from the ESUE.

As beneficial as this was for the world (and needed), behind all the benevolence and unity of The Royal Yasmin Company, lay the heart of its purpose, the façade: the construction of weapons to combat Dekim Barton's ESUE. A fake subdivision had been created to fund the building of armaments for the Gundams and the Preventer agency. They had nothing in this universe and to create a system of revenue to benefit their organization was made painstakingly careful as to avoid unwanted suspicion.

"Great. Has anyone heard from Heero or Trowa? I haven't had contact with them in a while," Noin asked, interrupting Duo's thoughts. He refocused as Noin continued. "I suspect Heero's caught in a tough place against the extremists in Northern Africa. Wufei, on the other hand, has been consistent. It doesn't take much for him to get back these days."

Noin chuckled and put her fist under her chin. Her eyes seemed positively joyful at the turn of Wufei's behavior. "You would think with his antisocial proclivities he would be the one we're concerned about. Times sure have changed. He's still going by his own sense of justice, though that sense has been collaborative."

"People change each other. Y'all must have been great influences on him," Duo said, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. Wufei was a person Duo knew who liked to work alone. Well, he had at one point.

Noin smiled at his comment but did not reply. There was a twinkle in her eyes that he did not like, though. He felt there was more to the story. Perhaps, he could get her to open up and reveal the change in Wufei's behavior.

Wufei was hard to understand, and he understood Heero! The zaniest Gundam pilot of them all. With Wufei, his thought pattern was complex. He moved on his own accord and left them filling in the blanks.

Solitary life played an important role for Wufei, and he came wherever troubled lied, holding pertinent information everyone was seeking. Where he had gotten it was just the mystery of why and how he knew, and in the knowing Wufei was dangerous.

"I've received word Heero's supposed to contact you, Duo," said Quatre with a smile.

"He left a video message for me to be careful, saying things are tenuous in the Middle East. It was a welcome message, and we know how incredibly warm Heero is," joked Quatre.

Duo blinked and a lopsided smile appeared on his face. "He is? About damn time. I was beginning to think he forgot about little ole me. Anything from Trowa? I got his message a while ago."

Noin shook her head. "Afraid not. Just his last report. I'm not worried. He's always been a capable person. Quatre?"

A frown developed on Quatre's lips, and Duo narrowed his eyes. Trowa and Quatre were quite close, so it was odd that Trowa had not been consistent.

"I'm with Noin," Quatre agreed. "I know Trowa is capable – always has been – but I'm worried. It's not like him to fully disappear. I'll keep my faith in him. Something will come up, it has to."

"Howard, how are the Gundams coming along? Are they operational?" Duo asked eagerly, switching topics.

Howard smirked and he seemed to look younger and cheerier. Working on machines had been Howard's pastime and it seemed to make him happier, sometimes more than watching the waves lap on a sandy shore.

"Not yet," said Howard. "You simply cannot rush delicate operations like this, Duo. By my estimation, I give it two to three more months."

Duo sighed loudly. He refrained from agitatedly moving his hands through his bangs. He was not in the mood for bad or slow news, not with the world about to be on the edge of cataclysm. "That's too long, ya old man."

Howard raised an eyebrow and cryptically smiled at Duo; a smile that showed his wisdom, where he would dip his head, his sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, to reveal his dark intelligent eyes. He felt naked under Howard's gaze. Duo had once called it the "old-man smile", a joke at Howard's age and his experience. It told him, in Howard's cryptic way of saying, he had things under control.

"The Polaris Gundam Generation are not machines to be pushed for speedy completion," Howard lectured, his tone easy and light. "Any shortsightedness on my part could cause irreparable damage not only to the machine but to the GN Drive itself. I suggest you don't worry about this. I'll give ya a call when I'm done.

"And thank Zechs the next you see him! He makes a great test pilot," Howard added. "A few more months and then we'll commence Operation Hydra. Thank our buddy, the warlord, for the ammunition."

Howard nodded towards Quatre.

Quatre looked ashamed, turquoise eyes finding something at the bottom of his screen more interesting while his lips seemed to disappear into his mouth. "If we did not have to takedown Barton, then I would never have dreamed of becoming an arms dealer. But we need weapons to restore order and create peace, and this sense of false peace is only temporary. Dekim's never been the one to let plans be.

"We're all just passengers waiting for the bus. Whether the bus will stop or crash into us is up to the driver. I'm not counting on Dekim on being a patient driver," Quatre ended with a roll of his eyes.

A beat passed and Noin clapped her hands. "Great! If that's all, we'll meet again in the next two weeks or before another international emergency. Keep updating. I'll be sure to inform Une. I know she'll have more to say on these Gundams and planning for our operational stages. Safe trips, Quatre and Duo."

"Later!" Duo called. "Don't get in too much trouble. Otherwise, you'll give me another headache."

His tablet screen went black, and he set it on the table. Duo checked his phone again, noticing another message and he smiled. "Well, old buddy, I see you're in town!"

---

Wufei scanned Zurich's scenery with a hint of curiosity in his dark eyes from his window seat inside the moving bus. The window mirrored his countenance as he gave himself a quick one-over. His long ovular face had become thinner, more masculine, and his cheek bones curved like a crescent moon. His opened at the top, buttoned down, dark blue shirt clung to his lean form and was swallowed by a grey V-neck sweater. The shirt found shelter tucked neatly into black dress pants that cutoff at the ankles.

The pants were fastened by a sharp, thin, black belt with matching-colored loafers. His black hair was down and relaxed, pooling on his broad shoulders. Square-framed, Brooks glasses sat on his round nose. A black satchel lay against his side while its strap was tight against his shoulders and chest.

The more he looked at himself, the more uncomfortable he felt. He had not looked so normal, so studious since his departure for Earth in After Colony 195. The image in front of him, perceived as civilian attire, was not something he saw himself in just yet. He usually wore clothes of his traditional culture, and, strangely, found that he was missing his white changshan with black pants and slippers, the uniform of the Preventers, and his pilot's uniform. They were more welcomed than his tourist attire.

The difference was stark to how he felt and the task he was on. He looked more at home in the role of a tourist than a warrior. Perhaps, in some far away world and time, he would have found this more acceptable if he had not joined Operation Meteor, if he had continued his studies, living the life of a scholar caged by the white walls of an ivory tower of academia. He chuckled inwardly at the thought. Yes, Nataku would have found him hilarious and less than ideal.

Of course, he blamed Sally Po for his mild irritation. He did not realize how much of an influence her fashion aesthetics had on him. He was sure his exasperation brought her great joy. Too much joy.

Considering Sally wore her uniforms like a second skin, Wufei did not expect she had a fashion sense. He presumed she was more like him in a way, that work came first, and all other comforts were set on the backburner. Fashion was extravagant and expensive; he was more prudent with specific things he wanted. He would have contributed it to her being a woman and that fashion was a woman's expertise not withholding from Quatre or Duo.

Thoughts like that would have gotten him an earful from Une; an acerbic lecture that would have eviscerated his pride as a man and emasculated in front of her subordinates. Or maybe Noin's hostile glare. His right cheek twitched at the thought of Noin as a phantom pain spread across it. She certainly could slap hard.

Sally was different. Her patience was power, and it thrived when he least expected, throwing bits of wisdom and knowledge in easy conversation. She was like her callsign Water, a person that could adapt to any situation and counter when necessary. It was to Wufei's great surprise that he found himself listening to her advice and ruminating – her main goal – on her words.

She never pushed, but she teased, and those playful exchanges were dangerous. Whether it was on the clothes that he bought, his choice in books, his prejudices, she certainly left an imprint he loathed to admit, especially to her. And true, some of it was good. He had read more books on women and gender and extended his studies to history. He had a feeling Sally knew and enjoyed the change more than him.

She knew knowledge and philosophy were Wufei's weaknesses and she used his pride to subvert his preconceived ideas. What he lacked or found myopic, she teased and exploited. He could not leave an assault unchallenged. Roused to meet the challenge, in his spare time, he studied vigorously. He would not be caught unaware again.

He wondered idly how she was faring in space. She and Noin had become the commanders of the Anno Domini Preventer agency, with Noin taking second to Lady Une and Sally taking third. The Noin and Sally had become a lot busier managing the new agency and constructing the Polaris series Gundams while observing the world. Because of the new hierarchy, Sally was the preeminent choice for the role, thus precluding their partnership.

Wufei knew she would never turn down the role despite how much she seemed to enjoy their partnership, and Wufei wouldn't allow it. The agency needed quality and qualified officers to fulfill missing positions, and this would give Wufei some reprieve by striking out on his own. It was not that he did not miss Sally, her companionship was pleasant and far from merely tolerable, but he liked the feeling of solitary travel more.

As Wufei gazed out his window, and the expanse of the beautiful Romanesque and modern architecture of the Swiss homeland passed by in silence, his thoughts returned to his destination. His mission in Zurich had come while reading one of Aeolia Schenberg's papers. It was one of those sleepless nights of crosschecking references where, in Aeolia's footnotes, he spotted the unfamiliar name of Eternal Alan Ray, a geneticist that studied prolong living in outer space and the effects on the human body. He was also a strong proponent for cloning research which, by the 21st century, was still a polemic hot topic among scientists and the religious. From his own time, it seemed those non secular thoughts were outdated.

It seemed Schenberg and Ray had association, judging by their closeness. Photos of the pair participating in chess matches delineated their closeness: Aeolia did not prefer companionship. He was a man whose solitary existence existed solely for academia and his work and advocation of solar energy. He was notorious for his privacy.

This was out of the ordinary for the deeply reserved man.

Ray and Aeolia were seen interacting on campus and in minor debates, recorded by the campus supervisory and uploaded to social media. They were contemporaries and what led Wufei to this was their disappearance. Both Aeolia and Ray had disappeared around 2102 AD, after Aeolia's proclamation of advancing space habitation. Their relation and Ray's influence in Aeolia's essays left no doubt in Wufei's mind that the two were bouncing ideas off each other.

Wufei's first thought was how long were the two intimates? For they became ghosts not long after, leaving no record or trace of their whereabouts.

There were no records of their return from space, either. They abandoned everything, but for what reason and purpose? And why? Ray was not the first scientist or engineer that had gone missing two hundred years ago. There were other lesser-known figures, but just as talented and educated. However, their relationship to Aeolia was not as solid.

Wufei hoped to determine their motive at the ETH University. Whatever work or old manuscripts lay in the bowels of the university, there had to be a clue, a signal, about themselves. The dead were alive, and they were sending a message to the future of the past. Wufei would be the receptacle that pieced it all together.

The bus came to stop at Leonhardstrasse and, smoothly, Wufei glided down the steps into the foggy morning. The cool air caressed his face, and the grey fog came down the city like a curtain. The excitement of the fall morning clamored in youthful voices of students striding their way to the campus, bundled in scarfs and overcoats, disappearing and reappearing in the fog like ghosts.

He quietly followed the students along the sidewalk to the stairs of the ETH University. One, two, three, up he climbed to the plateau and to the campus. The fog had lessened as he closed to the building door, revealing its majestic structure of neoclassical architecture that seemed more prominent than ancient.

Opening the door, he made his way inside. A tranquil yet busy atmosphere greeted him. Students strolled from classes, studies on their mind, unperturbed by the world outside their academic bubble. However, the words "Gundam," "Aeolia Schenberg," and "Celestial Being," current topics that had certainly captivated the world, swirled around him in excited whispers. There was a touch of fear mixed in as the Gundams did attack the AEU.

Finding the history department in the humanities section, he told an administrator he was here for a meeting with the historian and document preservationist, Ramona Fahrer. He stood to the side and leaned against a wall, watching students dip in and out of the department room. Coming through the door, dark eyes spied two darkly dressed men, wearing black sunglasses and blank expressions. They met with the administrator and talked in whispered tones, one, pointing to his watch, and the other man blocked Wufei's view with his back.

The administrator seemed to nod as her head dipped up and down and dialed her phone. Words were exchanged and she hung up. The two men nodded and situated themselves by the door. One of them with blond hair and a suitcase looked at him. Wufei could feel his intent.

He seemed curious; his vacant expression belied his curiosity. When Wufei looked back at him, the man pretended to be staring at an artwork behind the administrator. Wufei followed the man's eyes on the painting. It was an interesting painting of a brown-skinned hand pointing to a backdrop of hanging stars. It looked ordinary.

The more he analyzed the painting, the more it resonated with him. What he thought were scattered stars seemed to organize itself into constellations. He recognized the long, broad wings of Aquila the eagle; the pincers of the crab Cancer; the long, slithering body of Hydra, and many more. There was an engraving in the painting's black frame in gold:

Humanity's step into the stars will bring about its destruction or rebirth. To save it, the celestial ship of innovation must blaze through the cosmos, freeing humanity from their manacles tethered to the Earth. – E.A. Ray

The sight of Ray's name made him pause. A coincidence indeed. Fate had a way of intervening in the business of mortals and whisking them into danger. Wufei smiled inwardly, thinking fate must be colluding with the spirits of the dead. He would be a fool not to take the offering.

He reread the engraving, pondering his words. It was a clear warning against the hubris of humans. Civilizations had fallen from ravenous greed and immoderate control. Oppression had walled hope and caged courage. Was there more meaning of a future to come, of hopes and dreams uplifted or diminished? It could be literal in the sense of -

The sound of a door closing brought his attention back to the front. A middle-aged woman with greying red hair, intellectual blue eyes on her square-shaped face, walked to the front of the administrator's desk. She wore a mustard yellow long-sleeved top tucked into a black calf-length skirt. A red scarf snuggled against her neck.

She moved forward, her eyes switching between the men in black and Wufei. She pressed down her skirt and brought her hand up.

"You're early. Good. I'm Professor Ramona Fahrer," she said, her accented voice cool and clipped. "You must be the student who wants to dive into the depths of knowledge."

The two men turned sharply to him, this time their faces stern and suspicious.

Wufei did not correct her. He was on the thought process of letting people assume whatever he was – a researcher, student, - if it made his job easier, then he was fine with it. Wufei shook her hand. "I'm Wufei Chang."

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Chang. You two must be from the AEU Europol." The men nodded their heads curtly.

"Correct," said the blond-haired man. "We are here for any information pertaining to the records of Aeolia Schenberg."

"I suspect you're here for the same reason, Mr. Chang?" Professor Fahrer asked, giving him a pointed look.

"There are a few documents I would like to look at. These documents, as I came to be aware, are stored in this facility. Aeolia Schenburg and Eternal Alan Ray's," Wufei said politely.

She nodded slowly, almost knowingly. "I'm not surprised. History tells us many things, but it is a fact the past is instructional for the present. Our lives are not defined just by present day occurrences, but sometimes the hauntings and stirrings of the past. From 200 years to 2307, a man long forgotten from the world is now thrown into the spotlight of all academia and the world's eyes once again. Follow me, then."

The men followed her down a corridor to a door. Professor Fahrer peered back at Wufei. "Can I inquire your interest in these records, Mr. Chang?"

Wufei responded without hesitation, "Recreation with all that's going, I like to be well informed."

"Most, if not all, documents are uploaded and saved to our university's online database," she said flatly as they continued their pace. There was a look of condescension that he ignored. "Most people know that."

"True, but diligent notetakers leave clues to their genius," Wufei remarked and then, there was a flash of understanding on her face before it resumed an air of importance. The investigative pair gave him an odd look but said nothing.

The woman turned her head and gave a small smile. "Well, here we are."

They stopped at the door. "When we enter the interim room, wash your hands. Oils from your skin can leave stains. Put on gloves when you are finished. And…" she gave them a stern look, her lips a line, "please be gentle with the artifacts."

Wufei nodded and followed her to the interim room where he washed his hands and put on gloves, with her careful supervision. They proceeded into the room. The room smelled of dry, stale paper. She moved to a computer interface and researched the first name. Aeolia Schenberg. In section S, cabinet A-12.

He was followed the by the Europol guys who stood behind him, expressions vacant and patient. He knew they were spying on what he would find and choose from Schenberg. Their shadowing of him was drawing an inner ire of annoyance. Tossing the annoyance away with a meditative breath, he continued.

Wufei followed the shelves to the S section and proceeded to look up Aeolia. Finding the cabinet, he opened the cabinet and perused the manuscripts carefully. Each file was dated and in between the green folder sections were manuscripts of the man's genius. Wufei picked on his genius as he grew to a mild state of irritation. The man was a nuisance; even his manuscripts were perfectly clean as he rifled through each section, speed reading his works. Wufei filed away two references he found on Ray on space habitation during the construction of orbital-like elevators on his small tablet.

An hour passed by, and he sighed and said, without turning, "He's all yours."

"Mr. Chang," the blond-haired man said, "do you mind if we know what you were searching for?"

"The Gundams, of course," Wufei said simply, nodding. It was a simple truth. With the world's attention on those mobile suits, the obvious would be the truth. In any case, the Gundams had no value to him on this mission. They were the least of his problems, for the moment.

The blond-haired man shared a look with his partner before replying, "Did you find anything of interest related to the Gundams?"

Wufei shook his head. "Not sure," he admitted honestly, screwing his face in what he believed to be a state of confusion. "Maybe I'll check again the next day."

Without waiting for a reply, he moved to the R section, E-24. He could hear the two men converse softly. He hoped that his fake naivety threw them off his trail. Otherwise, it would be a confrontation he purposely wanted to avoid.

He rifled through Ray's file and found a manuscript called Space Physiology. In his perusing the document, he noted how Ray stated humankind would change once living in space and the genetic changes from living in space. As he moved down the paper, something caught his eye that made his heart skip, and he inhaled a sharp breath. It could not be!

Dark eyes widened at the discovery and Wufei could barely keep his chest from heaving deeply. He calmed himself down, putting a gloved finger on the notes. Ray was referencing genetic manipulation of the human genome to endure space's harsh environment and next to the description was a mention of Jay Null. The Doctor Jay Null. The Gundam scientist and engineer from Lagrange-1.

How could this be?

This should have been impossible. It was inconceivable. Why was Null here? Why mention him when he was killed on Libra with his other colleagues in After Colony 195?

He did not exist in this universe, so any reference was moot. Or was he wrong? Did Null and Aeolia find some way to meet? Questions spun in his mind at a furious pace, and he tried to gather something that was tangible.

A thought occurred to him, and he narrowed his eyes. "Aeolia," he whispered, "what have you done?"

The material Ray referenced as a footnote by Null was "The Future of Spacenoids" as Ray wrote:

A human living in space will face the harsh environments that space offers, thus changing their DNA to adjust and adapt. To acclimate to the environment, the human body must change its DNA structure. The transformation will occur through prolong stress to the body confronting threats using fight, flight, or freeze responses. The instrumentality of quantum mechanics to produce human gene change must come with prolong exposure if human beings are to endure the uncompromising realities of space habitation and travel past our solar system's boundaries.

Written in the margins next to Null was "the key is in the pawn." He took out his notepad and filed it away, along with Null's referenced work. Wufei checked his other works, but found, again, a clean record.

A multitude of thoughts and theories buzzed through Wufei's head like a hive. He found a lead, but which direction should he go to. Which direction would prove more formidable in answering the new questions posed by E.A. Ray? If he followed Aeolia's lead to his kin, he was sure he would gain more attention, especially from those Interpol agents, and if he chose Ray, he was sure to he would still be followed, but at a more sedate pace.

He smirked to himself. Aeolia, you're playing a dangerous game.

Thanking the professor, he took off to the library. His next destination was made. There had to be more to this story! He was sure he would find definitive proof on this new course of action.

---

A great commotion stirred within the crowded restaurant. A fervor of enthusiasm punctuated the room, thick and fervent and building. Voices ranging from the highest to the lowest of volume battled for supremacy. Some folks were huddled in tight-knit circles, whispering excitedly amongst the growing noise of the restaurant. Others mixed in at tables and the bar, like heated molecules, they never stayed in place for too long, shooting in one direction to another.

People, casting their workday out the window, enticed by the smell of food, wandered in to catch the latest news or meet with friends. It was another busy day for Shooting Stars, and business only increased with evening hour unfolding.

A warm yet dim light shined in the room, just enough to keep the dark at bay and relax its occupants. The yellow lights from the walls and ceiling fixtures intersected, fending off looming black shadows, leaving some parts of the ceiling dark. The television monitors hanging from the ceiling lit the room with flashing pictures; a large one on the left of the room, where customers sat at small tables; one at the booths, on the right; and another at the bar, in the middle.

Chefs raced against the clock preparing meals and the sounds of pans hitting stoves and various metallic clinks and noises merged with the excitement of the crowd. The smell of food from the kitchens wafted and swirled in the air, promising sustenance to the hungry customers awaiting their meal. The aroma turned heads and rumbled stomachs.

The crowd became louder, and the whispers grew harsher as the television aired the evening news.

A lone individual sat on his stool at the bar, head down, avoiding anything and everything, as if a great invisible barrier barred anyone from approaching. The polished, wood-covered, bar countertop was swallowed by the hands and arms of patrons who could not find a spot. Many a drink splashed and soaked the top with sticky alcoholic beverages. The smell rose from the counters and wisps of it caught the young man's nose as he tried to avoid the casual messes of his fellow patrons.

Heero's nose wrinkled in revulsion. The bartender, a man with plain features and pale skin, nearly lost his balance with the growing demands of drinks as his wandering eyes switched from his eager patrons to the blaring television behind him. Sweat colored his brow and he hastily wiped it off in the crook of his arm. The beating lights above him accelerated his fatigue as his eyes danced around the many who raised their glasses for more, eyes glossy, cheeks flushed, and words slurred.

The raucous patrons did not seem to affect Heero. He never noticed them, not even the casual flirtations and winks from women and men trying to warm their way into his heart and possibly into his bed. He ignored them, pretending that they did not exist, that they were figments of his imagination, completely meaningless and transparent, with less than savory ulterior motives.

Those that observed him from afar noticed the intensity in his striking blue eyes, making the young man appear older and aloof. And his composure carried a great maturity only seen in older men, which confused his many suitors at the bar… or maybe it was how his wild, dark brown hair fell into his face, obscuring his youthful looks, a brown-haired silhouette of mystery, that lustful eyes gravitated towards.

If Heero could have found another seat, one closer to the door, he would have taken it. He was lucky enough to get a seat. The place was full and even with the air conditioning he felt the humid heat from all the body temperatures in the room, clinging and suffocating, stick to his skin like sweat. Luckily, he had a glass of cold water to fend off the aggravating heat.

Heero made it a habit of intermittently looking at his watch and glancing at the doors then looking back into his water. He was expecting Duo to come barging his way in. He checked his watch and the clock read: ten to seven. A few more minutes before the start of the meeting, a quick rendezvous, and then he would be back in combat.

Though his face was impassive, he groaned inwardly. If he had had the choice, he would have picked a better meeting place - like a vacant park or somewhere absent of people - but Duo, his friend - which was a new word for him - chose this restaurant, Shooting Stars. The irony was not lost on him. Only Duo would choose something so blatant and nostalgic and ironic.

His eyes roamed the restaurant, noting the black walls sprinkled with glitter, blinking under the yellow lights like stardust. Intricate galaxies and star patterns made of paint and glitter decorated the black ceiling, bedazzling the customers. Some specks of glitter fell on customers heads, gravity too strong to hold them together. Appropriately, they were spaced apart from the seats and booths. Business would not boom if glitter was part of the entrees. In a way, it reminded him of home, in a banal and miniscule kind of way, the one where a fleeting thought captured by the senses brought back certain memories.

Heero's Prussian blue eyes then flicked to the television, narrowing to slits. They were calculating and hard. The news was replaying yesterday's events which got the crowd abuzz and wild with conversation.

Of the four new mobile suits, two of them prevented a terrorist attack on the Human Reform League's Heaven's Pillar and two more attacked an Advanced European Union's latest mobile suit, the Enact, at an exhibition. The female newscaster revealed these new machines as Gundams - the words were noted atop the head of the enigmatic mobile suit that defeated the Enact. Those words sent a chill through his heart and ignited old passions and storms that lay buried beneath his calm exterior.

The word had far more meaning than most of these people of this universe realized. To build a Gundam was a defining achievement. Gundams were more than the average and conventional mobile suits. They were vehicles of revolution and change, of war and peace, necessary in bringing in the new era – or whatever era deemed worthy by their pilots and creators. They were rooted in humanity's long history of violence, a history humankind still had trouble in curing or finding a cure.

Some picture frames were blurry and unfocused, but he could identify the mobile suits. Four mobile suits, four Gundams, were the media's - and the world's! - newest fixation.

There were four in total and completely different and unique in style, weaponry, and armor. Only two were taped and disseminated throughout the media. The first picture that rotated on the screen showed a slender blue and white Gundam. Like all Gundams, the V-fin adorned the head, and the angular green eyes were facsimile to Gundams of Heero's universe, and the chest frame – like his universe's mobile suits - had large blue armor covering a dark green circular sensor. The armor covered the shoulders and gold fins, decorating the chest, speared into the air. Red colored the waist and feet; and the legs were gray like steel. A sword-like shield covered the right forearm.

The second picture was slightly unclear, but there was no doubt to Heero that it was a Gundam, judging by the pixelated V-fin. The image of the Gundam only showed the sides, but it was enough to decipher its bulky weaponry – an extraordinary large beam cannon. The heavily armored machine was large and its white and black armor matched the color scheme of outer space. It held a large beam cannon, and many other cannons situated on its legs and shoulders.

A range mobile suit and a close quarter combat, huh, the young man thought, swirling the water in his glass. And that was not the worst. A new organization calling themselves Celestial Being declared to intervene in all nations justifying war and conflict through race, creed, religion, territory, and/or energy. An emphatic statement like that could not be denied or ignored. The four nations would declare them terrorists and with terrorism came the unsubtle and very alarming escalation of arms.

His eyes went up, and the news resettled back in its usual routine of replaying Aeolia Schenberg's speech to the nations. The older man's face was neutral, his brown eyes defiant and heavy. His words and eyes carried far more gravity and weight than this world could infer. This was the man responsible for their entire debacle in this world. Heero suddenly had a burning need to turn off the television.

"Out of the way! I'm in a rush here. Move your behind!"

A voice broke his attention, a loud and boisterous tone, that sailed happily over the noisy commotion. Heero turned to see a familiar face moving through the thick crowd, bumping and sliding his way to the crowded bar. When he finally reached the bar, Duo, with joyful blue eyes, long flowing bangs that reached his chin, and a waist-length braid that jostled with his movement, gave Heero a big brotherly grin. Like usual, Heero did not return it, meeting him with sharp eyes and an indiscernible expression.

"Heero! Long time no see, pal." The braided youth slung an arm around his comrade's shoulder, giving a rough pat on the back. Heero grunted at the over-enthusiastic exchange and accepted the gesture rather reluctantly.

Heero nodded in acknowledgement. "Duo."

Duo took his side on the left, sitting comfortably against the congested bodies of the patrons at the bar and the hot bar light. Heero thought he looked right at home, his smile easy and his eyes delighted by the busy atmosphere. Heero seemed to recall Duo's predilection for enjoyment, a lax and amiable personality that thrived on social interaction, comforted by his magnetism to conversation and keeping people entertained, all easier than Heero's willing reluctance to preclude such events. It was a switch Duo could turn on and off whenever the situation called for it.

Heero studied him thoroughly. It had been almost a year since they last saw each other, last confirmed their whereabouts. Heero noticed Duo's hair was longer and spikier at the front than ever, bangs dipping into his face like drooping branches of willow trees. His wardrobe was entirely different, less of a resemblance from his days on Earth.

Instead of his usual black leather jacket with a red turtleneck zipper, he wore a black jacket with white faux hair stitched into the hood, a blue t-shirt, and black pants. His usual black sunglasses hung loosely from his crew neck. He looked comfortable, and that annoyed Heero. A comfortable and relaxed Duo made for an obnoxious number of jibes and jokes at his expense. In a social environment like this, it would exponentially increase.

"So, how's it going? What have you've been up to?" Duo asked excitedly. "Saving any princesses yet?"

Heero stared blankly at Duo. Duo's lips curved higher into a sly smile, and he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Duo's joking nature had always been a nuisance for Heero, and he doubted Duo could handle his own dry sense of humor. Duo seemed repulsed by it and delighted, because Heero at least, according to him, had a sense of humor than being made of stone.

"Or maybe" - his blue eyes narrowed and moved to the right - "someone else caught your attention," Duo said, his voice low and smoothed like a long trumpet note, flowing and soulful, rolling with sensuality that made Heero's ears prick in awareness, his eyes slightly narrowing in suspicion he knew would lead to his expense.

Heero followed his eyes past a horde of people grouped at the end of the counter to a woman sitting close by. She was stunning. Long, black, curly hair framed her face and cascaded down her back. Her hair fell in waves and the yellow light from the ceiling made her hair appear luminous. Soft, pale, skin glowed under the light and showed through her exposed black blouse, the fabric dipping deep, forming a downward triangle that juxtaposed the swell of her breasts.

She casually hunched forward, her index finger idly tracing the frost of her drink that continued to condensate and fall to the counter like melted snow. Her brown eyes were on the television. As if feeling his eyes, her tracing stopped and her eyes dropped to Heero's, a focused looked that conveyed an unsubtle arousal, a smile tugging at her red lips.

Their eyes met and for a moment, Heero felt something familiar that stirred in his belly. The emotion was light and seemed to flutter like butterfly wings. Heero watched her brown eyes darken, overcome with a heavy feeling, that seemed to permeate.

"Not bad, ain't she?" Duo whispered, his eyes on Heero, glinting in intrigue. "As soon as I got here, I noticed her immediately. A woman's smile is a mystery to those gazin' at it. But I'm pretty sure that mystery lays in a bedroom. A hot and sweaty one."

Heero merely turned away, his face watching Duo's. He was not interested in some beauty (not at this time); his priorities outweighed such casual encounters. Duo frowned and raised a pronounced eyebrow. It was the look of disappointment. Terrible disappointment.

"So, you're gonna be like that, huh?" Duo asked, his voice falling into disapproval. "Figures Mr. Machine would forgo female company, his heart made of Gundanium alloy. The hardest stuff known to existence. I know there's a burning core inside it, just waitin' to be released!"

"We have more pressing issues to talk about," Heero argued, setting the issue aside.

Heero was not going to divulge his love life or the person who had been occupying his thoughts recently. He did not know where they stood and how much time he had left with her before Operation Hydra would start. Also, Duo's incessant pestering would rouse his ire if he got wind of that there was a person he was romantically inclined to, that was not Relena. He had been surprised by that fact when he realized his romantic feelings had not dimmed, considering their situation.

"But your love life is a much better topic, so forgive me for rousing the deviant in you," Duo complained childishly, pursing his lips.

"Let's just –"

"Wait!" Duo interrupted, his eyes and face lighting up in joy, like finding a light in the dark. "She's coming over."

The woman had left her drink on the countertop and moved through the crowd of people. Her gait was confident, and her eyes never left Heero's. Tight jeans curved and fitted to long legs and flared hips. Her hips swung like a pendulum, an enticing and hypnotic rhythm.

Heero stared at the woman blankly. He really did not want to have a conversation with her. A quick "I'm not interested" would hopefully deter her. Maybe. Most of the time, he ignored suitors and that worked.

As if fate heard his silent plea, a man wearing the dark blue colors of the Union uniform blocked her midway. He whispered in her ear. Heero could not read the words as his gloved hand covered his lips. Her brown eyes seemed to jump, startled, at the man's words. She turned her head and nodded to him. The man headed towards the door, and she followed him but not before giving one last look to Heero, a mischievous wink and sultry smile.

"Well, there went your chance," complained Duo.

"Duo, shut up," Heero said curtly, making sure to emphasize his annoyance.

"Fine, fine. So, what have you been up to?" Duo said, without missing a beat. "How's the combat life for Moralia? Find anythin' new? I'm still not sure why you're doing this. What's the benefit for you, for us? No one's forcing ya to fight on Moralia's behalf. Besides, there's nothin' they could do if the ESUE initiates confrontation."

There was an underlying of mockery in his tone. Duo did not bother to hide it; that was the point: his role with PMC Trust was a useless endeavor. Heero understood it very well.

"Complicated," he responded after a moment, answering the first question.

The intensity of the battlefield in a mobile suit less than stellar was difficult. Consistent ambushes and guerilla tactics from insurgents, spurred on by promises from the ESUE, had kept him and his comrades in frequent engagement. They had recently been given military leave from combat until the next mission, which was coming a lot sooner than he had hoped.

"The ESUE's proxy war has been scaling up," Heero continued, eyes flicking among the gathering throng of customers filling and moving through the restaurant before resting back on an inquisitive Duo. "The rebels are using outdated 00 AEU Hellion Mediums and Anfs. The PMC has been digging in, but the rebels feel invigorated by ESUE support.

"I heard Serpent Is were deployed in the Sahel yesterday, made and paid for by the ESUE from their factories in Norton, Zimbabwe and Zomba, Malawi. Those two places specialize in construction of Serpent 1s on Earth, not discounting Colony X-18999 and its territorial resource satellites.

"There's no way these insurgents could afford expensive weaponry when they're only revenue is decrepit oil fields, human trafficking and ransoms, or land-rich minerals barely protected from enemy attacks. The nations fending off these insurgents, so far with only military aid in the form of training and arms from the AEU, are struggling as it is."

A grim look appeared on Duo's face and a low whistle sailed from his lips. "Damn. This is not lookin' good. It's goin' to be an uphill battle for the AEU and Moralia, ya know," said Duo, tilting his head forward to emphasize his point.

"You asked why I'm fighting on behalf of Moralia? I did not know exactly, either, at first."

A lie. It was a lie he was willing to use.

Duo's eyes bulged and he fumbled off his stool. He righted himself on the stool and said, "What? Ya kiddin', right? I did not believe you'll be that reckless, Heero!"

Heero inclined his head but did not respond right away. He turned his eyes on a group of teenagers laughing, faces dancing in oblivious delight, smiles abound, and life's struggles out of sight. A peaceful scene in a peaceful land. It was unsettling, and then he suddenly despised them. Their peace was an illusion.

"It's all I can do," Heero whispered, clenching his fists, "until Zero is finished. The ESUE are wanting to grab power. I can be a bulwark to preclude further bloodshed and war."

Cobalt blue eyes pierced him. Duo just stared, uncomfortably silent, motionless amid the moving throngs in the front. There was an indiscernible depth to his eyes that looked like it could see into his soul.

"Just because you can do it, does not make it right or worthwhile. Don't go gettin' sucked into other people's affairs, pal. It'll be hard to part when the time comes. And if things do escalate, and I – and you – know they will, will it be worth it? Things are gettin' more complicated these days, ya know. To be entangled in another's mess is only askin' for trouble."

Heero did not disagree with his words. To be drowned in chaos was nothing new. To willingly go back to it, probably made him insane. A slow nod did not dissolve Duo's steely look. As if to emphasize his point, Duo held it for two beats. It only fell when he put two hands on his face and groaned.

"You're gonna be the death of me, buddy," he muttered through his hands. "Ya know that?"

"The same goes for you," Heero grunted.

An understanding silence passed between them, both men lost in wayward thoughts beyond the restaurant. The crowd continued to expand. Duo was the first to break it, as usual.

"Do you –"

"A journalist? At a high-end agency, no less?" Heero asked, locking eyes with his comrade. "That's something I didn't expect… especially from you."

Duo shrugged indifferently. "Hey, it's been great. I've traveled to the three great nations – the HRL, the Union, and AEU. Foreign journalists are limited or banned from the ESUE. Got more info on them and their little secrets, too."

Duo winked playfully and continued, "Money isn't tight and I met a cool woman. She's a little obsessive when it comes to work, but she's nice enough. I think stickin' out is the way to go. It won't be so obvious if they gunned me down in broad daylight with a cameraman near me."

A small smile warmed its way onto Heero's lips. The smile was nostalgic in origin. He remembered saying the complete opposite to Duo during his hospital stay in the colonies during the war. Some lessons were hard learned and hard earned. He hoped Duo learned that lesson before the foundation slipped from under him and he was trapped underneath the debris of his naivety.

"And besides," Duo continued, "the chief gave me special clearance to the orbital elevators anytime. I can use this chance without wastin' any money to meet Howard and the rest. Everything is lookin' up in my direction."

Heero nodded mechanically, swishing his water, and watching the cubes dissolve into his drink. The change reminded him time never stood still. It had its will on everything and it changed all. He then raised it to his lips, taking a large gulp then setting it back down. He glanced again at the screen, watching the replay of the Gundam at the Pillar of Heaven. Duo's eyes drifted toward Heero's gaze.

"So, you saw that shit, too. They called them Gundams," Duo said, mockingly. He brought his hands together and placed them under his chin; his elbows met the polished wood of the counter. Then, he realized the wetness of the counter and he groaned in disgust as he tried to find something to wipe his elbows. The visiting bartender gave his apologies and quickly washed the counter while handing him some napkins.

"Well, it's no coincidence, considering the one whom created them. I'm surprised he was able to complete them," Heero stated, his expression one of contemplation and puzzlement.

"Right. Good ol' Operation Meteor," Duo said, enthusiastically drying off his elbows. "Ya know the Gundam's have jammers and are not visual on radar. It's the particles. They interfere with electrical signals."

"Anything else? I checked you're update on the Gundam Circuit, and it seemed sparse."

Duo shook his head. "I would take your questions to Howard as he's the one in charge of their development. I could not get much else. Their armor nor their weaponry. I bet the particles are their defining features."

"Not surprising. The original blueprints of our mobile suits were based off similar properties," Heero replied.

"Hell yeah! At the AEU exhibition, all electric phones and radars in the vicinity were jammed. Reminded me of Professor G's tech. I couldn't get any better shots. Only at a distance, and even that was tough with AEU hounding me out of the bleachers.

"You don't think their objectives are similar to ours in After Colony?" Duo asked, his tone curious and anticipatory, as if to confirm something he had already knew.

Heero gave Duo a measured look and then shook his head. "No. We wanted to eliminate OZ and the Romefeller Foundation – those were our main targets, our revenge and retaliation against their oppression of the space colonies. Celestial Being wants to wipe out all conflict, for the sake of ending war, as Aeolia Schenberg dictates. It sounds like idealism, but I've known from the past such idealism can turn to fruition, though, not without its consequences."

"The Big Three," Duo said, giving Heero a knowing look.

Heero nodded at his words. The Big Three were essential to the After Colony's complete disarmament of the Earth Sphere. Relena for unification and Milliardo Peacecraft and Treize Kushrenada for showing the tragic history of war on humanity. Together, humanity feared and hoped for a better world without the horrific sacrifice of its people.

"I wonder if the world would follow in our same footsteps, repeating the same mistakes of our tragic past," Duo said, his tone solemn. He had a wistful look as he gazed at the boisterous people about.

"It will probably happen again," said Duo, suddenly, with such certainty that sounded prophetic. His eyes reflected sorrow as they seemed to glaze in thought. Heero had no objection to his view.

"Yes, it will," said Heero, agreeing, "And again and again and again. Like an endless waltz. The people, the world's citizens, have to want peace first; but they're not united in that objective. Looking at this crowd, it would seem war and chaos is in some far-off land."

No, it was not that they were not united, but a strong division, one centered on the energy crisis, shattered any forms of cooperation and furthered the degradation of world peace for consumption and power. If they did unite, under one banner, who were to say the people wanted peace? Would it lead to it and what would it look like?

Those with absolute power often end in corruption, Heero mused thoughtfully, or, like Treize, lack the will to complete their endeavors and abdicate their powers to those with a predilection for totalitarianism. Consolidate their power for the few and exploit the majority. Most put up a façade, championing justice and peace, while slamming the iron fist of authoritarianism on their opponents.

Would peace truly be peace?

The thought reminded him of Treize Khushrenada in Luxemburg, Belgium, weighed by self-loathing and fallen in the well of defeatism and him, a lost fighter who had no solid foundations, looking for a fight to end his life. Treize had the power to change the world, to take it, once again, from Romefeller's reach, but he was not a good loser, and the world suffered in the aftermath of his decision. Treize and Heero could not realize there was a brighter future worth fighting for and that depended on the leap of faith and unity to renounce and reckon with their bloody history. Heero had found this reckoning later during the war, and he only seemed to have more questions for his placement in life, when Earth's bloody history had not been erased from his own bloody hands.

"They don't even realize how close they are to the beasts of wars," Heero added offhandedly, eyes roaming the crowd in disdain. He noticed in his periphery Duo shrug.

"I'd rather keep it like that. Not everyone has to know war to support peace. I guess we'll have to take the watch-and-see approach," Duo said as Heero turned to stare at him. There was a soft and tired look in his expression that made him seem far older than his age. Heero knew that expression as at times he found it on his face, the look of bone-tired weariness.

"Yeah," Heero said quietly.

A moment passed by the two pilots, who had retreated to their thoughts. The crowd swarmed and swam around them, some leaving, and even more entering. The whispers became louder and drunken rants and words slurred among the patrons. "Fuck Celestial Being!" was called and a chorus of positive affirmations and calls resounded in the restaurant.

Feeling ready to leave, Heero drained his glass, stood from his stool, and left for the door, with Duo at his heels, rolling his eyes. The door pulled open and entering was a blonde girl holding a young man with brown hair and a meek expression by the wrist (he seemed to be overwhelmed). The brown-haired boy held the door open and the two pilots, giving a grateful nod, Duo a small bit of conversation with the boy and a cheerful wink, left the building, walking into the busy metropolis of Tokyo to get lost until the world brought them back.