Gundam Wing: War in A.C. 200
a Gundam Wing Fanfiction
by Torankusu Senshi
Chapter 6: Tortured Souls
Agent Wind, Zecchs Merquise, Milliardo Peacecraft. Each had once been the name of the former prince of the Sanq Kindom, the person who had, just recently, led the souls of one one thousand brave men and women to their deaths. One thousand. The best soldiers he had ever known, and probably ever would. Each had dedicated their lives to keeping the peace within the Earth Sphere, each had risen up and beyond the call of duty in their previous battle. Veterans, and friends, now gone. All he had left was a handfull of mere trainees, and they were being sent out as commanders in the Earth Sphere United Nation Armed Forces.
In his heyday at Oz, Zecchs Merquise had fought for honor, for the revenge of his beloved Sanq Kingdom. In his following days as a renegade, he had fought any who would oppose total pacifism, much like the Gundam pilots had. In the era of the Eve Wars, he had succumbed to his own inner demons and lost hopes, and took the White Fang out on a mission to destroy the Earth. He had always had reasons for fighting, reasons that most people would have been proud to stand up and say they would gladly die for. The reason these thoughts ran through his head was simple, Zecchs Merquise no longer knew what he was fighting for.
One week remained until the arrival of the Alien Armada. The entire thing, not simply three warships, such as he had fought before, with so many on his side. One and a half Million ships, each most likely carrying a complement of those fearsome mobile suits they had encounted, the ones that had hurt them so. The Armed Forces of the Earth Sphere United Nation were becoming ready for War, with literally millions of mobile suits and soldiers already commisioned. The Armed Forces mobile suit count at the date of the arrival of the Alien Fleet was expected to be nearly 20 million, which was far from what it needed to be, if they were to have any chance at survival. He had even heard a rumor that the old battleship Libra and the now junk heap Peacemillion were undergoing restorations. He didn't care, the Libra was symbol of his days as harbringer of doom to the Earth, and he wanted no more part of it.
One thousand men and women.
Zecchs was in his spacious quarters in the new E.S.U.N.A.F.( Earth Sphere United Nation Armed Forces), which was formerly Preventer HQ. The only furniture in the room was a desk and a bed, and the only ornament a single picture on that desk, despite the room's impressive size. That picture was one taken two years ago of him, Noin, and Relena. The only two that mattered to him, anymore. His little sister, whom he was more proud of than she could ever possibly know. And Noin, Noin whom had always been there for him. Noin, who had trained his fellow soldiers in combat, had stood by his side, even at the end. Noin who had been faithful, loyal, and the best possible friend he ever could have asked for.
Zecchs was in love with Noin. It took her probable death to notice that.
And he had failed her.
She had been there, her shredded white Taurus so close to the reach of the giant hand of Tallgeese. Then, she had been taken from him, taken into the depths of a warship that had slaughtered her comrades. If she still was alive, which he doubted, no doubt she was going through the worst of all horrors imaginable.
All because of him.
He shouted in rage, sitting up from his bed in a flash, and slammed his fist with all his might into the wall beside him. It stung like hell, the wall was made of metal, like most everything nowadays, but he ddin't cry out, not even as blood ran down his knuckles and onto the wall, stinging his hand. He drew back his hand and did it again, as if he was intent on punishing himself for the failure to protect the one he loved.
"You can break your fist like that."
So intent he was on hurting himself, he hadn't even noticed the arrival of Lady Une. He mumbled something, incoherently, swung his legs off the side of bed and onto the floor. He remained seated, looking at his bloodied knuckles with interest, as if he didn't want to face her.
Lady Une sighed. She had been expecting this kind of reaction from him, and had hoped against it. With one gloved hand, she pulled up the chair from the desk, and, sat down, facing Zecchs. The blonde haired man barely turned his head up in an acknowledgement, the shadows casting his eyes in a dark light.
"It isn't your fault, Zecchs. You had no way to protect Noin, or any of them, during that battle. You were fighting the Wing Zero, it would have been nearly impossible for you to defeat it in any length of time to make a difference." She said this, despite the fact that she knew not whether it was Heero in that Gundam.
"I am not a simple child, Lady. Do not patronize me." His voice came back, low and noble, like always, although strained.
"Sometimes we need to hear things we'd rather not, Zecchs. Your priorities should be on avenging your comrades, and saving Liuetenant Noin."
"Noin is dead." his voice had that same tone, as if he was by will forcing it not to break.
"How do you know, Zecchs? I have seen the battle records brought back from Altron and Tallgeese. Her Taurus was on the edge of that beam from Wing Zero, and her suit seemed disabled, but it is very well possible they could have captured her alive."
"She couldn't have survived that blast."
"She never gave up on you. Are you going to do it with her? That would be an injustice, one she doesn't deserve." She stood up, and from the way Zecchs almost jumped, she knew her words had hit their intended mark. Knowing that he must be alone, to reflect on what happened and what he must do, she headed for the door. Before she could step out into the lighted hallway, however, she heard Zecchs voice:
"It was him."
She stopped where she was as if she had been shot. Slowly, silently, she turned to face Zecchs, who now stood tall in the center of the room, the half light from the open doorway casting all of his body in light but his face. It was an eerie sight. He spoke again, as if to clarify himself, although the Lady already knew what he meant:
"Heero was piloting that Wing Zero, Lady."
Looking at the eerie sight of Zecchs Merquise a moment longer, she turned and stepped out of the doorway, the hatch closing behind her.
Zecchs stared at the door, still. Heero had been in that Gundam, alright. No mistaking his style and ferocity, his one minded drive to accomplish his goal. Having dueled with the man extensively five times in his life, Zecchs knew it, without question. The words of Lady Une had also alerted him to one thing:
Until he was aboard that alien ship, holding Noin in his arms, alive or dead, he would not give up. Even if he had to slaughter every damned alien in that fleet, by himself.
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Dorothy Catolonia pulled up on the stick of the ship she had rented. It was a small craft, meant to shuttle only one person in and between colonies, not entire clusters, as it was know being forced to do. It was painted in the red and white hues of the Earth Sphere United Nation, and was shoddy enough in appearance and control it might've been put together originally by Duo and his scavenger companions. She cursed under her breath, something she rarely did, these days. The wreckage of a few thousand mobile suits surrounded her, deep in the center of the L3Colony Cluster, where the battle that was now being referred to as "The Preventer's Last Stand," had been fought a week ago. She was terribly late.
Upon the confirmation that the spaceways of the L3 Colony Cluster had been turned into a warzone, her once 'brave', and she used the term loosely, space pilot had decided that those areas were too risky. He had made an emergency landing at Colony X-18999, where most traffic had been diverted to. Unable to find transport to the L3 Cluster, she had been forced to watch, as all the rest of Humanity had, as Relena Peacraft, the once peace minded girl, had declared War on the rapidly approaching alien fleet. Dorothy shuddered to think what must have been running through the mind of that girl, she knew her well enough to know that Relena aborrhhed violence, in any form. Much less the simple fact that in doing so, she had likely just sent millions of warriors to their deaths, was not any more comforting a thought. No, Dorothy was glad she was not Relena, that she wasn't forced with that decision, but she had a job to do, much the same. And the fate of Humanity depended on her successful completion of it, maybe as much as Relena declaring war. So far, everything had gone as she had been foretold.
So, after the Declaration of War, she had went on a manhunt for ships, and for a relatively low price, managed to procure the junk heap she was currently behind the controls of.
She was too late.
The Alien ships had retreated back into the blackness of space, whatever mysterious purpose they had come to fulfill completed. All that was left behind was the funeral zone of the Preventer Agency and the silent, terrified minds of the entire L3 Colony Cluster. She had come out here in an an attempt to see if there was anything she could find out, and information she could make use of, or even a signal that her mission need not be completed, but after a cursory check, knew there was only wreckage.
A quick glance at her fuel gauge told her that she didn't have enough to make it all the way to the Earth, again. She would have to make a stop at Colony X-18999, refuel, and return to the Homeworld at that time. A long and tedious trip, but unfortunately, a necessary one.
With that, the little Colony Hopper Shuttle began it's slow 180 degree turn, and faced the direction from where it had come, the graveyard of the Preventers behind it.The engines flared, and the little ship took off, leaving behind only a blue trail of engine flame, the dashed hopes of Dorothy Catolonia, and a thousand dead souls.
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The Gundam-Class Mobile Suit Hangar of the E.S.U.N.A.F. was roughly one mile long, and half of that high. Built into a giant bunker beneath the Earth, it was the perfect place to house the multitude of mobile suits that the Preventers had once utilized.
Now, it was simply the resting spot of four mobile suits. All stood right next to each other, all bearing the same lifeless look, that one that could turn from inanimate to terrifying, all depending on whether their respective pilots were in them. Their massive frames stretched to the ceiling, with railways and balconies being the only access to the higher points of the suits. Their massive armament was in place, and their equally huge power generators were turned at a low level. This way, if any more emergencies were called upon, the four mobile suits could be launched at a momen't notice.
Gundam Deathscythe Hell, recently restored and looking none the worse for it, stood tall, it's huge bat-like wings wrapped around it's body, it's inactive yet still intimidating beam scythe held firm in one limp Gundanium hand. The rjust repairedGundam Altron, the one so resembling a dragon coiled and ready to strike, stood equally silent and foreboding, it's trident held in one hand, a large claw extending from the other.
The only mobile suit not a Gundam in the Hangar, the Tallgeese III, still wearing it's newly earned battle scars, stood a bit less tall, but none the less intimidating. The Mobile Suit itself managed to posess somewhat of a regal air, the two titanium hands resting on the hilt of it's Mega Cannon as if it were a royal scepter. It's large, almost wing like shields were behind it, and the balconies themselves had to be modifed to fit the entire width of the mobile suit in the Hangar.
And the one that had just arrived roughly an hour ago, newly built like the Deathscythe, and still gleaming a metallic sheen in the glowing lights, Gundam Sandrock. The weapon seemed far less intimidating than it's brother Gundams beside it, a throwback to the creator's peaceful nature. The only visible signs of warfare on the entire Gundam were the two large metal heat shotels, one held in each hand. Despite the other apparent lack of weaponry, simple those two large weapons, each half the length of the Gundam itself, would inspire fear in it's enemies.
On one large metal balcony, a railing that went the entire length of the hangar, and was meant for the pilots to exit on, three men stood. The last time they had seen each was when they were boys, and had done this for a living. Now, they were men, and though they regretted returning to the old life, they knew they had to. Two regretted it, at least. Wufei Chang was happy for the challenge, yet resentful for the loss of his comrades. He leaned against one railing, his arms resting over his chest.
Duo Maxwell posessed his usually cheerful demeanor, though if one knew him well enough, as these others did, it would suggest otherwise. His trademark long golden braid hung off the railing, the one on which he leaned opposite Wufei. His arms supported him from it, and he grinned widely at their new arrival.
Quatre Rababera Winner stood in the center of the metal platform, his arms folded in his chest. Duo noticed, not without some smug satisfaction, that both Wufei and Quatre's faces had lost their boyish roundness and innocence, looking more mature and angular, while he looked almost exactly the same as he had four years ago, albeit a bit taller. He spoke up, in a tone that suggested mock-grievance:
"So they got you too, eh, Quatre?"
The new President of the Winner Foundation smiled gently. "Nobody 'got' me, Duo. I chose to come out here, after I heard what happened with the Preventers."
Wufei's gaze pierced into Duo, his face set in hard lines. "If you're too scared to be here, you can always go back to your hole."
Duo huffed, indignant. "You know me better than that, nothing escapes the God of Death, Duo Maxwell. Lighten up you two, I was just trying to shed a little light on things."
Quatre smiled at his old friend, nodding gently. "I know, Duo, and thanks."
"It is a shame about Trowa, though. We really could use him out there. Any idea who took the shot at him?"
The young man's cheerful facade dropped, and Quatre looked at the floor. "No one got a good look at him, and by the time we got organized, he was long gone. He could have been any of a million people, it wouldn't be the first attempt on our lives that have been made since the Marameiya War. As for Trowa, the doctors don't know when or if he'll return from the coma. I left Catherine watching over him."
Duo's smile dropped, and he stared hard at Quatre, a stare that was almost as hard as any Heero or Wufei had ever given any of them. "And what about the Heavyarms?"
Quatre rubbed his forehead, as if this was too much for him to handle. He didn't want to see his friend Trowa head off into battle the moment he got better, but they all knew Trowa well enough. He would pilot a rusted space Leo to battle, if he had to.
"Raseid told me that him and the rest of the Magonac Core will rebuilt it for him. They went off to who knows where, they never did tell me where their new hiding place was."
"Yeah, those guys sure like keeping their secrets, nowdays. But hey, soon enough, Trowa will be back, and we'll all be together again. Then, nothing will stand in our way."
Before Quatre could whole heartedly agree, Wufei spoke his mind. "I don't now what the two of you are so happy about. There are one and a half million alien warships heading right for us, and with Heero piloting the Wing Zero in their aid."
Duo turned to face the other man, frowning. "But I assumed that wasn't Heero. I mean, how could he have gotten back into space, and with Wing Zero, no less?"
Wufei leaned off the railing, turning to face his beloved Nataku, and began walking, his boots clanging against the metal ramps.
"Zecchs fought him. He says it was definitely Heero. The two of them have fought each so much that I don't doubt it a moment."
Before the two other stunned pilots could think of any other comeback, Wufei spun around to face them, his face seeming perfectly calm, but his voice betraying a hint of anxiety. "Just remember, that next time we go out there, we'll be fighting Heero. Can either of you do that? Can you fight your vaunted champion, as simply as you battled me, four years ago? I don't know about either one of you, but I can and I will. I saw him murder hundreds of my comrades with that twin buster rifle of his. I won't soon forget, and neither should you."
Quatre Rababera Winner and Duo Maxwell stared in silence as Wufei headed for Gundam Altron across the metal platform.
Neither of them really knew what to say, to that one.
But both dreaded the moment that they would find out the answer to it.
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Akira Tomino was hungry. He had woken in this small room with the giant window for what seemed like days ago, and he hadn't yet been fed. He assumed it was simply that the aliens didn't know what to give him, or that he needed to eat: if they wanted him dead, they would have slaughtered him, days ago, when he had the gall to attack their fleet in one barely armed twenty year old mobile suit.
There was nothing much that he could do, in the small room. In his first hours of waking, he had contented himself with thinking of all kinds of horrible things he would do to any alien murderers that came to feed him. When that hope proved false, as no feeders came, he had busied his mind with coming up with any plans of escape, and hopefully to some kind of weapon that he could use. Unfortunately, as he knew nothing of the area beyond his room, and the room itself was simple, locked, and with nothing he knew of that could open it, that also died rather quickly.
So, when push came to shove, Akira Tomino stared out the window of his room, at the fleet of a million warships. He gazed at their terrible magnificence, and waited for the time when they would either destroy the Earth Sphere, or when his captors would enter, and finish his miserable existence once and for all.
Countless hours passed, and all he could do was stare at the Fleet of Death before him. He couldn't remove his eyes from the spectacle anymore, even if he had wanted to. Then, his door opened, and he assumed the end had come.
If it had, it had come in the guise of a twenty something year old woman who was terribly injured.
Before he could see how she had been shoved into the room, the door slammed shut just as quickly. He stared at her in shock, glad he had decided not to give up and go to the bathroom in his clothes, quickly. The woman was certainly beautiful, with mid-length black hair, large blue eyes, and a black jumpsuit that fit her form nicely.
She stood shakily, almost falling, and gazed about, her eyes seeming glassy. She finally managed to fix her gaze on him, and he noticed that she was holding her side, a side in which the black jumpsuit she wore had been soaked red. She stared at him, deliriously, then mumbled a name that he thought he would never hear:
".......Zecchs?"
As if that one word had taken all of her energy, she actually did fall, collapsing on the floor in a heap. Akira was at her side in a moment, he finally had a companion, and, selfish or no, he wasn't going to lose her. He knew rudimentary first aid, and would do the best he could, under the circumstances. Ripping off her shirt as quickly as possible, he did the same with his own, momentarily glad she wore a tanktop underneath it. Tearing only the side of it, so she could preserve her dignity, he pressed his shirt into her side, and wrapped it around her midsection in a makeshift bandage.
After the few minutes it took him to completely fasten it and be sure the woman was asleep, he turned his attention on the jumpsuit shirt. If she had, like had thought, been captured in a similar manner as he was, then she was military, and should have her name tag on her shirt breast. Lifting up the blood soaked garment with one hand gingerly, he searched the left breast, then the right, and sure enough, it was there.
"Liuetenant Lucrezia Noin, Agent Fire, Preventer Agency, Earth Sphere United Nation." he said aloud, as he hadn't heard the sound of his own voice in hours.
Preventers? Liuetenant? This was way over his head. However, the thing that troubled him most was the name she had uttered before her collapse. He may have only ever lived at Forgotten Star, an unimaginable distance from the homeworld, or the place where the Eve and Marameiya Wars had taken place, but he did have a vid-screen, and he did notice news broadcasts. Zecchs Merquise, ex leader of the White Fang, and leader of the Preventers. And the way she had said the name, it seemed almost....
Affectionate. Hopeful.
She must know Zecchs Merquise awfully well.
He sighed, resigning himself to her wait for her to wake up, and inform him of how she got here, and why.
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Relena was happy, or as happy as she could be, with the current situation and all. She was in her one room apartment in a small building in Brussels. Contrary to popular belief, she did not own three palaces and a mountain home. Her apartment was small, but cozy, a one bedroom affair. Currently, she was resting on her large princess bed, dressed in nothing but the long shirt she had slept in.
The reason she was happy was that she had managed to get a week off, the rest of the time until the Apocalypse came calling. Marameiya Khushrenada had arrived a few nights earlier, and it was interesting to speak with the eleven year old prodigy that had declared war on the entire Earth Sphere just four years ago, when she had been a mere seven year old. The girl's intellect certainly hadn't suffered any with age, if anything, she had grown twice as smart as Relena remembered, which was scary in it's own right. Unfortunately, the good mood was to be short lived, as she fully awakened.
She had declared war. She had stood on that podium, under the eyes and hearts of the entire Earth Sphere, and told them that they were going to war against an alien fleet of 1,500,000 warships. She had renounced all her peaceful beliefs, given in to the simple fact that there was nothing she could do, and had taken the easy route. Humanity would go to war with the Aliens, and it would die. Of this, she was sure. Humanity could only survive in the first place because it had become peaceful, five years ago her brother Milliardo had proved that well enough.
The thing that irked her most was that they and the aliens knew barely anything about the other. The other race had entered and simply began destroying things, and, much as she might resent and even despise it, they would have to retaliate. They would have to make their stand, once and for all, or face destruction. It seemed that was the only possible way, or one of a million other horrible fates that the aliens would decide on. Whatever the case, she did not intend to leave Humanity to the mercy of another species, one not even from the Earth Sphere. She would fight, and, again, much as she hated doing so, she would lead the charge.
The next thing that irked her, well, didn't very much irk her at all. It terrified her to a point that she questioned everything she had every known.
Heero Yuy, her Heero, had been piloting the Wing Zero at the battle of the L3 Colony Cluster.
Shaking the thought off, not wanting to deal with it, she sighed.
That was when she heard a scream from the kitchen.
She practically leaped up from her bed, running with all her speed across the apartment, her long shirt being blown behind her. She could only hope that the scream wasn't Mara's, the girl was finally starting to get on with her life, it wouldn't be fair....
And she arrived at the kitcen. The scream HAD been Marameiya's. The girl was crouched in the corner, a look of utter terror on her childlike features. She was trembling uncontroallbly, so much so that Relena grew fearful.
Until she saw her puppy, Darlian, playfully licking the leg of Marameiya. The girl screamed again, and shouted when she saw Mara:
"This THING is attacking me!"
Relena laughed so hard and so long that Marameiya almost died of embarassment.
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And while the warriors each had their thoughts, their own inner sufferings, Armageddon yet descended upon them all. They would be glad for these days, the days when they had time to think. Soon, things would start happening, and they would barely be able to keep up, much less stop and reflect.
And if they couldn't keep up, they would die.
The young man currently hospitalized, attached to a set of machines to keep his life going, was one such key player in the events about to come. He would wake, as everybody hoped. He would play one of the most important parts in this trial of life that Destiny had laid out.
Trowa Barton sleeped soundly at the moment, unaware of the Alien Doom descending upon his friends and family, his comrades.
But he would be aware, soon enough, and he would be faced with the choice none of us ever want to face.
Destiny was a cruel thing.
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a Gundam Wing Fanfiction
by Torankusu Senshi
Chapter 6: Tortured Souls
Agent Wind, Zecchs Merquise, Milliardo Peacecraft. Each had once been the name of the former prince of the Sanq Kindom, the person who had, just recently, led the souls of one one thousand brave men and women to their deaths. One thousand. The best soldiers he had ever known, and probably ever would. Each had dedicated their lives to keeping the peace within the Earth Sphere, each had risen up and beyond the call of duty in their previous battle. Veterans, and friends, now gone. All he had left was a handfull of mere trainees, and they were being sent out as commanders in the Earth Sphere United Nation Armed Forces.
In his heyday at Oz, Zecchs Merquise had fought for honor, for the revenge of his beloved Sanq Kingdom. In his following days as a renegade, he had fought any who would oppose total pacifism, much like the Gundam pilots had. In the era of the Eve Wars, he had succumbed to his own inner demons and lost hopes, and took the White Fang out on a mission to destroy the Earth. He had always had reasons for fighting, reasons that most people would have been proud to stand up and say they would gladly die for. The reason these thoughts ran through his head was simple, Zecchs Merquise no longer knew what he was fighting for.
One week remained until the arrival of the Alien Armada. The entire thing, not simply three warships, such as he had fought before, with so many on his side. One and a half Million ships, each most likely carrying a complement of those fearsome mobile suits they had encounted, the ones that had hurt them so. The Armed Forces of the Earth Sphere United Nation were becoming ready for War, with literally millions of mobile suits and soldiers already commisioned. The Armed Forces mobile suit count at the date of the arrival of the Alien Fleet was expected to be nearly 20 million, which was far from what it needed to be, if they were to have any chance at survival. He had even heard a rumor that the old battleship Libra and the now junk heap Peacemillion were undergoing restorations. He didn't care, the Libra was symbol of his days as harbringer of doom to the Earth, and he wanted no more part of it.
One thousand men and women.
Zecchs was in his spacious quarters in the new E.S.U.N.A.F.( Earth Sphere United Nation Armed Forces), which was formerly Preventer HQ. The only furniture in the room was a desk and a bed, and the only ornament a single picture on that desk, despite the room's impressive size. That picture was one taken two years ago of him, Noin, and Relena. The only two that mattered to him, anymore. His little sister, whom he was more proud of than she could ever possibly know. And Noin, Noin whom had always been there for him. Noin, who had trained his fellow soldiers in combat, had stood by his side, even at the end. Noin who had been faithful, loyal, and the best possible friend he ever could have asked for.
Zecchs was in love with Noin. It took her probable death to notice that.
And he had failed her.
She had been there, her shredded white Taurus so close to the reach of the giant hand of Tallgeese. Then, she had been taken from him, taken into the depths of a warship that had slaughtered her comrades. If she still was alive, which he doubted, no doubt she was going through the worst of all horrors imaginable.
All because of him.
He shouted in rage, sitting up from his bed in a flash, and slammed his fist with all his might into the wall beside him. It stung like hell, the wall was made of metal, like most everything nowadays, but he ddin't cry out, not even as blood ran down his knuckles and onto the wall, stinging his hand. He drew back his hand and did it again, as if he was intent on punishing himself for the failure to protect the one he loved.
"You can break your fist like that."
So intent he was on hurting himself, he hadn't even noticed the arrival of Lady Une. He mumbled something, incoherently, swung his legs off the side of bed and onto the floor. He remained seated, looking at his bloodied knuckles with interest, as if he didn't want to face her.
Lady Une sighed. She had been expecting this kind of reaction from him, and had hoped against it. With one gloved hand, she pulled up the chair from the desk, and, sat down, facing Zecchs. The blonde haired man barely turned his head up in an acknowledgement, the shadows casting his eyes in a dark light.
"It isn't your fault, Zecchs. You had no way to protect Noin, or any of them, during that battle. You were fighting the Wing Zero, it would have been nearly impossible for you to defeat it in any length of time to make a difference." She said this, despite the fact that she knew not whether it was Heero in that Gundam.
"I am not a simple child, Lady. Do not patronize me." His voice came back, low and noble, like always, although strained.
"Sometimes we need to hear things we'd rather not, Zecchs. Your priorities should be on avenging your comrades, and saving Liuetenant Noin."
"Noin is dead." his voice had that same tone, as if he was by will forcing it not to break.
"How do you know, Zecchs? I have seen the battle records brought back from Altron and Tallgeese. Her Taurus was on the edge of that beam from Wing Zero, and her suit seemed disabled, but it is very well possible they could have captured her alive."
"She couldn't have survived that blast."
"She never gave up on you. Are you going to do it with her? That would be an injustice, one she doesn't deserve." She stood up, and from the way Zecchs almost jumped, she knew her words had hit their intended mark. Knowing that he must be alone, to reflect on what happened and what he must do, she headed for the door. Before she could step out into the lighted hallway, however, she heard Zecchs voice:
"It was him."
She stopped where she was as if she had been shot. Slowly, silently, she turned to face Zecchs, who now stood tall in the center of the room, the half light from the open doorway casting all of his body in light but his face. It was an eerie sight. He spoke again, as if to clarify himself, although the Lady already knew what he meant:
"Heero was piloting that Wing Zero, Lady."
Looking at the eerie sight of Zecchs Merquise a moment longer, she turned and stepped out of the doorway, the hatch closing behind her.
Zecchs stared at the door, still. Heero had been in that Gundam, alright. No mistaking his style and ferocity, his one minded drive to accomplish his goal. Having dueled with the man extensively five times in his life, Zecchs knew it, without question. The words of Lady Une had also alerted him to one thing:
Until he was aboard that alien ship, holding Noin in his arms, alive or dead, he would not give up. Even if he had to slaughter every damned alien in that fleet, by himself.
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Dorothy Catolonia pulled up on the stick of the ship she had rented. It was a small craft, meant to shuttle only one person in and between colonies, not entire clusters, as it was know being forced to do. It was painted in the red and white hues of the Earth Sphere United Nation, and was shoddy enough in appearance and control it might've been put together originally by Duo and his scavenger companions. She cursed under her breath, something she rarely did, these days. The wreckage of a few thousand mobile suits surrounded her, deep in the center of the L3Colony Cluster, where the battle that was now being referred to as "The Preventer's Last Stand," had been fought a week ago. She was terribly late.
Upon the confirmation that the spaceways of the L3 Colony Cluster had been turned into a warzone, her once 'brave', and she used the term loosely, space pilot had decided that those areas were too risky. He had made an emergency landing at Colony X-18999, where most traffic had been diverted to. Unable to find transport to the L3 Cluster, she had been forced to watch, as all the rest of Humanity had, as Relena Peacraft, the once peace minded girl, had declared War on the rapidly approaching alien fleet. Dorothy shuddered to think what must have been running through the mind of that girl, she knew her well enough to know that Relena aborrhhed violence, in any form. Much less the simple fact that in doing so, she had likely just sent millions of warriors to their deaths, was not any more comforting a thought. No, Dorothy was glad she was not Relena, that she wasn't forced with that decision, but she had a job to do, much the same. And the fate of Humanity depended on her successful completion of it, maybe as much as Relena declaring war. So far, everything had gone as she had been foretold.
So, after the Declaration of War, she had went on a manhunt for ships, and for a relatively low price, managed to procure the junk heap she was currently behind the controls of.
She was too late.
The Alien ships had retreated back into the blackness of space, whatever mysterious purpose they had come to fulfill completed. All that was left behind was the funeral zone of the Preventer Agency and the silent, terrified minds of the entire L3 Colony Cluster. She had come out here in an an attempt to see if there was anything she could find out, and information she could make use of, or even a signal that her mission need not be completed, but after a cursory check, knew there was only wreckage.
A quick glance at her fuel gauge told her that she didn't have enough to make it all the way to the Earth, again. She would have to make a stop at Colony X-18999, refuel, and return to the Homeworld at that time. A long and tedious trip, but unfortunately, a necessary one.
With that, the little Colony Hopper Shuttle began it's slow 180 degree turn, and faced the direction from where it had come, the graveyard of the Preventers behind it.The engines flared, and the little ship took off, leaving behind only a blue trail of engine flame, the dashed hopes of Dorothy Catolonia, and a thousand dead souls.
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The Gundam-Class Mobile Suit Hangar of the E.S.U.N.A.F. was roughly one mile long, and half of that high. Built into a giant bunker beneath the Earth, it was the perfect place to house the multitude of mobile suits that the Preventers had once utilized.
Now, it was simply the resting spot of four mobile suits. All stood right next to each other, all bearing the same lifeless look, that one that could turn from inanimate to terrifying, all depending on whether their respective pilots were in them. Their massive frames stretched to the ceiling, with railways and balconies being the only access to the higher points of the suits. Their massive armament was in place, and their equally huge power generators were turned at a low level. This way, if any more emergencies were called upon, the four mobile suits could be launched at a momen't notice.
Gundam Deathscythe Hell, recently restored and looking none the worse for it, stood tall, it's huge bat-like wings wrapped around it's body, it's inactive yet still intimidating beam scythe held firm in one limp Gundanium hand. The rjust repairedGundam Altron, the one so resembling a dragon coiled and ready to strike, stood equally silent and foreboding, it's trident held in one hand, a large claw extending from the other.
The only mobile suit not a Gundam in the Hangar, the Tallgeese III, still wearing it's newly earned battle scars, stood a bit less tall, but none the less intimidating. The Mobile Suit itself managed to posess somewhat of a regal air, the two titanium hands resting on the hilt of it's Mega Cannon as if it were a royal scepter. It's large, almost wing like shields were behind it, and the balconies themselves had to be modifed to fit the entire width of the mobile suit in the Hangar.
And the one that had just arrived roughly an hour ago, newly built like the Deathscythe, and still gleaming a metallic sheen in the glowing lights, Gundam Sandrock. The weapon seemed far less intimidating than it's brother Gundams beside it, a throwback to the creator's peaceful nature. The only visible signs of warfare on the entire Gundam were the two large metal heat shotels, one held in each hand. Despite the other apparent lack of weaponry, simple those two large weapons, each half the length of the Gundam itself, would inspire fear in it's enemies.
On one large metal balcony, a railing that went the entire length of the hangar, and was meant for the pilots to exit on, three men stood. The last time they had seen each was when they were boys, and had done this for a living. Now, they were men, and though they regretted returning to the old life, they knew they had to. Two regretted it, at least. Wufei Chang was happy for the challenge, yet resentful for the loss of his comrades. He leaned against one railing, his arms resting over his chest.
Duo Maxwell posessed his usually cheerful demeanor, though if one knew him well enough, as these others did, it would suggest otherwise. His trademark long golden braid hung off the railing, the one on which he leaned opposite Wufei. His arms supported him from it, and he grinned widely at their new arrival.
Quatre Rababera Winner stood in the center of the metal platform, his arms folded in his chest. Duo noticed, not without some smug satisfaction, that both Wufei and Quatre's faces had lost their boyish roundness and innocence, looking more mature and angular, while he looked almost exactly the same as he had four years ago, albeit a bit taller. He spoke up, in a tone that suggested mock-grievance:
"So they got you too, eh, Quatre?"
The new President of the Winner Foundation smiled gently. "Nobody 'got' me, Duo. I chose to come out here, after I heard what happened with the Preventers."
Wufei's gaze pierced into Duo, his face set in hard lines. "If you're too scared to be here, you can always go back to your hole."
Duo huffed, indignant. "You know me better than that, nothing escapes the God of Death, Duo Maxwell. Lighten up you two, I was just trying to shed a little light on things."
Quatre smiled at his old friend, nodding gently. "I know, Duo, and thanks."
"It is a shame about Trowa, though. We really could use him out there. Any idea who took the shot at him?"
The young man's cheerful facade dropped, and Quatre looked at the floor. "No one got a good look at him, and by the time we got organized, he was long gone. He could have been any of a million people, it wouldn't be the first attempt on our lives that have been made since the Marameiya War. As for Trowa, the doctors don't know when or if he'll return from the coma. I left Catherine watching over him."
Duo's smile dropped, and he stared hard at Quatre, a stare that was almost as hard as any Heero or Wufei had ever given any of them. "And what about the Heavyarms?"
Quatre rubbed his forehead, as if this was too much for him to handle. He didn't want to see his friend Trowa head off into battle the moment he got better, but they all knew Trowa well enough. He would pilot a rusted space Leo to battle, if he had to.
"Raseid told me that him and the rest of the Magonac Core will rebuilt it for him. They went off to who knows where, they never did tell me where their new hiding place was."
"Yeah, those guys sure like keeping their secrets, nowdays. But hey, soon enough, Trowa will be back, and we'll all be together again. Then, nothing will stand in our way."
Before Quatre could whole heartedly agree, Wufei spoke his mind. "I don't now what the two of you are so happy about. There are one and a half million alien warships heading right for us, and with Heero piloting the Wing Zero in their aid."
Duo turned to face the other man, frowning. "But I assumed that wasn't Heero. I mean, how could he have gotten back into space, and with Wing Zero, no less?"
Wufei leaned off the railing, turning to face his beloved Nataku, and began walking, his boots clanging against the metal ramps.
"Zecchs fought him. He says it was definitely Heero. The two of them have fought each so much that I don't doubt it a moment."
Before the two other stunned pilots could think of any other comeback, Wufei spun around to face them, his face seeming perfectly calm, but his voice betraying a hint of anxiety. "Just remember, that next time we go out there, we'll be fighting Heero. Can either of you do that? Can you fight your vaunted champion, as simply as you battled me, four years ago? I don't know about either one of you, but I can and I will. I saw him murder hundreds of my comrades with that twin buster rifle of his. I won't soon forget, and neither should you."
Quatre Rababera Winner and Duo Maxwell stared in silence as Wufei headed for Gundam Altron across the metal platform.
Neither of them really knew what to say, to that one.
But both dreaded the moment that they would find out the answer to it.
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Akira Tomino was hungry. He had woken in this small room with the giant window for what seemed like days ago, and he hadn't yet been fed. He assumed it was simply that the aliens didn't know what to give him, or that he needed to eat: if they wanted him dead, they would have slaughtered him, days ago, when he had the gall to attack their fleet in one barely armed twenty year old mobile suit.
There was nothing much that he could do, in the small room. In his first hours of waking, he had contented himself with thinking of all kinds of horrible things he would do to any alien murderers that came to feed him. When that hope proved false, as no feeders came, he had busied his mind with coming up with any plans of escape, and hopefully to some kind of weapon that he could use. Unfortunately, as he knew nothing of the area beyond his room, and the room itself was simple, locked, and with nothing he knew of that could open it, that also died rather quickly.
So, when push came to shove, Akira Tomino stared out the window of his room, at the fleet of a million warships. He gazed at their terrible magnificence, and waited for the time when they would either destroy the Earth Sphere, or when his captors would enter, and finish his miserable existence once and for all.
Countless hours passed, and all he could do was stare at the Fleet of Death before him. He couldn't remove his eyes from the spectacle anymore, even if he had wanted to. Then, his door opened, and he assumed the end had come.
If it had, it had come in the guise of a twenty something year old woman who was terribly injured.
Before he could see how she had been shoved into the room, the door slammed shut just as quickly. He stared at her in shock, glad he had decided not to give up and go to the bathroom in his clothes, quickly. The woman was certainly beautiful, with mid-length black hair, large blue eyes, and a black jumpsuit that fit her form nicely.
She stood shakily, almost falling, and gazed about, her eyes seeming glassy. She finally managed to fix her gaze on him, and he noticed that she was holding her side, a side in which the black jumpsuit she wore had been soaked red. She stared at him, deliriously, then mumbled a name that he thought he would never hear:
".......Zecchs?"
As if that one word had taken all of her energy, she actually did fall, collapsing on the floor in a heap. Akira was at her side in a moment, he finally had a companion, and, selfish or no, he wasn't going to lose her. He knew rudimentary first aid, and would do the best he could, under the circumstances. Ripping off her shirt as quickly as possible, he did the same with his own, momentarily glad she wore a tanktop underneath it. Tearing only the side of it, so she could preserve her dignity, he pressed his shirt into her side, and wrapped it around her midsection in a makeshift bandage.
After the few minutes it took him to completely fasten it and be sure the woman was asleep, he turned his attention on the jumpsuit shirt. If she had, like had thought, been captured in a similar manner as he was, then she was military, and should have her name tag on her shirt breast. Lifting up the blood soaked garment with one hand gingerly, he searched the left breast, then the right, and sure enough, it was there.
"Liuetenant Lucrezia Noin, Agent Fire, Preventer Agency, Earth Sphere United Nation." he said aloud, as he hadn't heard the sound of his own voice in hours.
Preventers? Liuetenant? This was way over his head. However, the thing that troubled him most was the name she had uttered before her collapse. He may have only ever lived at Forgotten Star, an unimaginable distance from the homeworld, or the place where the Eve and Marameiya Wars had taken place, but he did have a vid-screen, and he did notice news broadcasts. Zecchs Merquise, ex leader of the White Fang, and leader of the Preventers. And the way she had said the name, it seemed almost....
Affectionate. Hopeful.
She must know Zecchs Merquise awfully well.
He sighed, resigning himself to her wait for her to wake up, and inform him of how she got here, and why.
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Relena was happy, or as happy as she could be, with the current situation and all. She was in her one room apartment in a small building in Brussels. Contrary to popular belief, she did not own three palaces and a mountain home. Her apartment was small, but cozy, a one bedroom affair. Currently, she was resting on her large princess bed, dressed in nothing but the long shirt she had slept in.
The reason she was happy was that she had managed to get a week off, the rest of the time until the Apocalypse came calling. Marameiya Khushrenada had arrived a few nights earlier, and it was interesting to speak with the eleven year old prodigy that had declared war on the entire Earth Sphere just four years ago, when she had been a mere seven year old. The girl's intellect certainly hadn't suffered any with age, if anything, she had grown twice as smart as Relena remembered, which was scary in it's own right. Unfortunately, the good mood was to be short lived, as she fully awakened.
She had declared war. She had stood on that podium, under the eyes and hearts of the entire Earth Sphere, and told them that they were going to war against an alien fleet of 1,500,000 warships. She had renounced all her peaceful beliefs, given in to the simple fact that there was nothing she could do, and had taken the easy route. Humanity would go to war with the Aliens, and it would die. Of this, she was sure. Humanity could only survive in the first place because it had become peaceful, five years ago her brother Milliardo had proved that well enough.
The thing that irked her most was that they and the aliens knew barely anything about the other. The other race had entered and simply began destroying things, and, much as she might resent and even despise it, they would have to retaliate. They would have to make their stand, once and for all, or face destruction. It seemed that was the only possible way, or one of a million other horrible fates that the aliens would decide on. Whatever the case, she did not intend to leave Humanity to the mercy of another species, one not even from the Earth Sphere. She would fight, and, again, much as she hated doing so, she would lead the charge.
The next thing that irked her, well, didn't very much irk her at all. It terrified her to a point that she questioned everything she had every known.
Heero Yuy, her Heero, had been piloting the Wing Zero at the battle of the L3 Colony Cluster.
Shaking the thought off, not wanting to deal with it, she sighed.
That was when she heard a scream from the kitchen.
She practically leaped up from her bed, running with all her speed across the apartment, her long shirt being blown behind her. She could only hope that the scream wasn't Mara's, the girl was finally starting to get on with her life, it wouldn't be fair....
And she arrived at the kitcen. The scream HAD been Marameiya's. The girl was crouched in the corner, a look of utter terror on her childlike features. She was trembling uncontroallbly, so much so that Relena grew fearful.
Until she saw her puppy, Darlian, playfully licking the leg of Marameiya. The girl screamed again, and shouted when she saw Mara:
"This THING is attacking me!"
Relena laughed so hard and so long that Marameiya almost died of embarassment.
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And while the warriors each had their thoughts, their own inner sufferings, Armageddon yet descended upon them all. They would be glad for these days, the days when they had time to think. Soon, things would start happening, and they would barely be able to keep up, much less stop and reflect.
And if they couldn't keep up, they would die.
The young man currently hospitalized, attached to a set of machines to keep his life going, was one such key player in the events about to come. He would wake, as everybody hoped. He would play one of the most important parts in this trial of life that Destiny had laid out.
Trowa Barton sleeped soundly at the moment, unaware of the Alien Doom descending upon his friends and family, his comrades.
But he would be aware, soon enough, and he would be faced with the choice none of us ever want to face.
Destiny was a cruel thing.
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