Wings of Love

Part 2

Kasage Starrunner

Feb. 14 AC197 06:00

The tall woman with twin blond braids called Sally Po was waiting in the hangar when the lovers arrived. Lines of worry creased her well-tanned face, and her whole body was tense.

Her grey eyes turned apologetic when she saw them. Quatre had changed from his Arabic robes into his more familiar pale pink blouse, lavender-grey vest, and two-inches-too-long khakis. His pale blonde head leaned on his koi's shoulder, and his aqua eyes were open slightly, filled with melancholy preocupation.

A sigh escaped him as he lifted his head from his broad shouldered companion. At the release of the pressure, Trowa straightened, looking briefly down at the desert angel who clung so lightly to his tight-fitting black turtleneck. For a brief instant, those cold emeralds softened, looking for all the world like the ice of Winter melting away to reveal a gentle, green Spring. However, the ice froze over once again as he turned back to the taller woman, serious and waiting.

The woman codenamed Water shifted in her seat. "I'm terribly sorry about this mess," she started ackwardly. "It just seems that some of the Barton followers won't give up on fighting."

Trowa nodded and pointed to the Preventer's laptop. "So where are the fires located?"

Quatre stepped close to the screen as the tall woman bent down to adjust the picture. With the click of a button, a map of the L-3 colony cluster appeared. One could easily see that the potential fires were marked by red points.

"As you can see, we have more fires than available Preventers in this sector. That's why I had to call this inconveniant meeting." Sally Po clicked again and the zoom screen appeared on a colony near the outside of the cluster. "This is colony X18989," the Preventer continued. "The colony has as of lately been suffering a number of highly organized raids, not-to-mention riots, caused by a covert militia group believed to be former members of the Barton Foundation. We have established that this Barton group's headquarters is here." Another box appeared on the screen showing a detailed map of a number of warehouses and other buildings, some of which were under contruction.

"Why are you elaborating on this Barton group?" asked the silent clown.

"Well, it seems that this group is involved in a massive operation to 'retrieve' their quote, unquote leader, Marimeia Khushrenada."

The lion stood like a marble statue, cold and unyielding, however, the gentle blond beside him could see where this converstaion was going. She wanted the both fo them to keep an eye on Marimeia-as both bodyguard and babysitter. Sally Po knew as well as the rest of the world that the Earth Sphere Unified Nation didn't need another catastrophe like the one suffered over the holidays.

"We'll take good care of Marimeia," stated the alabaster youth. His voice showed genuine kindness, if not enthusiasm. He liked children-even ones who had been raised to act like Marimeia. However, Sally Po interrupted him before the Arab could begin to offer a forgiving smile.

"No. They've succeeded."

Silence wove itslef around the room in thick webs, like an omnipotent god coming to show its true reign over the Earth in quiet triumph. The tendrils of darkness gagged the shocked lovers-stifled and muted them. Former Barton followers had gotten hold of the one icon that could ignite a conflagration- one that could engulf the whole worlds in seconds. The child had learned a lesson, but still ... A child was easy to control ... Too easy.

The prospect was enough to choke the hope of true peace and a "happily ever after" right out of their very souls, leaving them balnk, empty, and confused at their abondonment. Sally Po's strange explaination was taking effect. Her next words, however, confirmed their worst fears.

"What we're doing is sending a group to inflitrate the building as swiftly and safely as possible. This, however, will only be a distraction to give you two time to rescue Marimeia, although I can't promise all fo the rebel soldiers will be kept at bay."

"And what group will you be with, Sally?" questioned Quatre.

"I will be in charge of the infiltration group. From my experience, the fewer the members of the rescue team, the more likely they are to get in and out again unnoticed."

They would be alone. All alone, with noone to help them if they failed. It wasn't that this had never been done before, but it had been a while since either Quatre or Trowa had a need to fight. They would have to rekindle the senses they branded into themselves over two years ago in Operation Meteor. That might take more time than they had.

If they were lucky, it would come like riding a bicycle ... They had to hope for that, for each other's sake, and the child that needed their assistance.

The Arab was suddenly struck with something and raised a worried eyebrow. "What was Marimeia's medical condition when she was kidnapped?" He remembered how the gunshot wound had debilitated her.

"Last I heard, her physical therapy had been going very well. In fact, right before she was taken, the child had been able to start walking on her own again for brief amounts of time."

Trowa and Quatre gave each other a knowing glance. "It sounds like there was a someone keeping very close watch on Marimeia. They obviously have been waiting for her to become independent again before taking her."

Sally nodded. "Right now, however, the objective is to return her to Lady Une. You know what you have to do. We roundevous at the coordinates I gave you this morning at 22:00. Until then, get yourselves ready and try to find as much more information about these people as you can."

The Preventor started to walk into her shuttle, but then remembered something else, and turned back around, a sharp glint in her slate eyes. "I'd suggest you get in contact with Lady Une, as well. She has more notes on the attacker than I can personally give. She can also tell you more about Marimeia's medical status. Meet you again at the roundevous."



Feb. 14, AC197: 19:00

The shuttle space seemed cramped to the two ex-gundam pilots en route to their mission. It was too small, too clean, too white, and on autopilot, but there was nothing they could do. It was the only shuttle available and it had to be small, that way no one could guess that the two were in league with the Preventors.

As to their conversation with Laday Une, it had gone well. The head of teh Preventor Organization had only reaffirmed the conditions that Trowa dn Quatre already knew, with a few extra details on the side. As it was, they had found out that the red-headed child would have to be carried. She couldn't walk long distances, and in her present condition there was no way that she would be able to run, if that were necessary.

"Three hours to operation time," stated Trowa smoothly. The blonde nodded at him and tried to reassure himself with a smile.

"This is a routine rescue mission, right, Trowa?"

"Of course."

/Then why do I feel so nervous,/ he thought.

"What's wrong, koi?" asked Trowa, very conscious of his partner's emotions.

"I-I just ahve a bad feeling, that's all."

Trowa nodded. He knew that feeling. It was the one he had woke up with and hadn't quite been able to dislodge. It was that pit feeling in his stomach, the prickling of the hairs on his neck ... The lion had never known himself to be intuitive before, but no he was certain something was going to happen. This wasn't going to be easy. He had known that from the moment the doorbell wrnag after he had thrust away his fragmented nightmares. He reached for them again, but they fled at his touch- like thousands of tiny insects skittering away when one turned on the latern at a campout.

This only made the pit feeling worse. He really wished Sally had called Duo up for this job. There was no dangerous feeling about his life, but there was something wrong with their lives today. The Fates had a hand of cards that she was ready to play- Trowa didn't know if they were waiting for the two to call they're bluff or if they were playing true, holding one of the lovers' threads taught and ready to cut with the golden scissors wielded by Lachesis.

The brown haired lion reached out, and his tanned hand was met by the angel's pale hand, his delicate fingers gently twisting in his grasp, trying to find some comforting gesture. Their eyes met for the second time that day, but this time those shining baubles were windows to pangs of worry, not the kind, gentle lapping of the waves of love and passion. Quatre could see Trowa's fear plain as day, event though the mime still fought to hide it-The Arabs emotions were just as open. He alwasy held them ackwardly in the palm of his hand, for all the world to see. It were as though he didn't want the human race to be alone with their pain.

The lovers turned to the stars, spinning about in steady orbit in the galaxy called Milky Way. The shimmered and sparkled, shining down like millions of eyes- smiling at the kind, chiding the cruel, and crying for the lost souls making their weary way from the colorful land of the living, to the cold tombs of the inescapable Underworld. The rising Earth cried with them-cried for the return of her children, but the solem gatekeeper Death just turned his grim eyes away, letting the Earth, moon, and stars flicker in languid grace. It all made one feel so small, and yet, space made one feel welcome too. It was almost as the stars were some of those wayward souls, escaping from the gloom of Hades to live again as an angels in the sky. And there the myriad beings looked down upon the world from the sparkling realm of Dreams- warning lost travelers to beware, and cradling those who needed love and kindness.

In this sort of half-mediational state, the two living stars reached out and wrapped each other in their waiting arms. Nestled together, the stared off into the hollow realm of Outer Space, and waited for the Fates to come to them.