~Chapter One~ nikki Normal nikki 1 3 2001-11-12T16:12:00Z 2001-11-12T16:15:00Z 1 2009 11456 95 26 13439 10.2625 Clean MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 @page Section1 {size: 8.5in 11.0in; margin: 1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin: .5in; mso-footer-margin: .5in; mso-paper-source: 0; } P.MsoNormal { FONT-SIZE: 12pt; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt; FONT-FAMILY: "Times New Roman"; mso-style-parent: ""; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman" } LI.MsoNormal { FONT-SIZE: 12pt; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt; FONT-FAMILY: "Times New Roman"; mso-style-parent: ""; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman" } DIV.MsoNormal { FONT-SIZE: 12pt; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt; FONT-FAMILY: "Times New Roman"; mso-style-parent: ""; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman" } P.MsoBodyText { FONT-SIZE: 12pt; MARGIN-LEFT: 0in; MARGIN-RIGHT: 0in; FONT-FAMILY: "Times New Roman"; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman" } LI.MsoBodyText { FONT-SIZE: 12pt; MARGIN-LEFT: 0in; MARGIN-RIGHT: 0in; FONT-FAMILY: "Times New Roman"; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman" } DIV.MsoBodyText { FONT-SIZE: 12pt; MARGIN-LEFT: 0in; MARGIN-RIGHT: 0in; FONT-FAMILY: "Times New Roman"; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman" } SPAN.GramE { mso-style-name: ""; mso-gram-e: yes } DIV.Section1 { page: Section1 } /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";}

~Chapter One~

Trowa slowly opened his eyes and waited for his vision to clear. He rubbed his throbbing temples and grimaced. He looked to examine his surroundings. It seemed that he'd been placed in some sort of guest suite. He lay in a large bed with plain white sheets that matched the white walls of the room. From what he could see, it wasn't an elaborate quarters, and the sitting half of the room was left in the shadows.

"Ah. You're awake." The deep feminine voice came from the shadowed area of the room. The figure stood and moved into the light, revealing a woman of about 19 with her brown hair tied up in two buns with pink ribbons. Perched upon her nose were a pair of wire-framed glasses and she wore a maroon uniform with tight white leggings and ankle boots. "How are you feeling, Mr. Barton?" Trowa struggled into a sitting position. He clenched his teeth together as a wave of dizziness passed over him. He squeezed his eyes shut until it subsided. He turned towards the woman, who stood waiting with what seemed infinite patience.

"Mr. Barton?" he repeated. His face was alight with confusion. The woman smirked in unknown pleasure, as if only she knew some bit of good news.

"You don't remember, do you?" she asked smugly. Trowa shook his head. The woman folded her arms over he chest in smug satisfaction. "Well," she moved slowly toward Trowa. "I am Colonel Une." She smiled. "And you are Officer Trowa Barton. You work under me."

Quatre was beside himself in worry and regret as he and a dark haired boy named Heero were led by two OZ soldiers. He made sure his exterior relatively calm to keep from receiving unwanted attention. His mind, however, reeled with questions and worried thoughts. His worries became so loud that they rang in his ears. He clenched his teeth against them, and received a questionable glance from Heero. The guards continued to lead them like chained dogs, being herded obediently. Quatre's eyes widened as he witnessed the scrapped remains of the Vayeate. A cold lump formed in his throat at the sight of it. Without further thought, he roughly shoved one of the soldiers with his shoulder and ran up to the large hunk of metal. He looked up at the immense wreckage with tear-blurred eyes.

"Trowa," he choked. "I did this to you. Please forgive me." Quatre knelt beside the suit, in strangled sobbing. His nightmares resurfaced, hitting him all at once. It was a sharp, cold pain that could not be healed. Not without 'him'.

Trowa frowned as he examined the mobile suit before him. It was the suit that put him in his current condition. If it hadn't been for that OZ soldier, he would've died. That's what Une had told him. Luck had certainly been with him then. It had also been with him while he was recovering lost memories with Une's assistance. Within a week, he had been retrained and taught everything he'd known once before as an OZ soldier.

Seeing the Gundam again conjured up a feeling of anger. He cursed himself for not being able to overpower the Gundams. Une had reminded him just how much the Gundams were getting in the way of OZ's plans. That alone was enough reason to thwart the Gundams once and for all.

Trowa folded his arms over his chest as he observed the Zero system testing. Fortunate for OZ they could take advantage of this all-powerful suit. He smiled. His smile was cold and cruel.

Loud voices erupted from the suit. The men at the outside controls were frantically looking over the out-pour of new data. Trowa moved quickly to assist them. Two more soldiers were now pulling the test pilot out of the cockpit. The man they removed from the suit had wide frightened eyes with a face gone pale and slick with sweat.

Trowa's eyes widened a little at the affects of the system on the pilot. That might explain why that Gundam pilot had been so reckless in it. Trowa shook his head. He wondered where that pilot was right now…

Quatre sat in the forlorn silence of the OZ base. Wherever he went here, he always felt alone. Though he doubted that would go away no matter where he went. His conscience was heavy with grief. His own two hands felt covered thick in blood, more so than ever before. So many had died…

Quatre jerked his head up at the sound of someone entering the room. The boy with messy, dark brown tufts of hair that fell lazily into a pair of cobalt blue eyes leaned up against the wall with arms folded over his chest. His blue eyes, shielded from emotion, looked Quatre over for a moment. After a long period of silence, Heero began to speak.

"You shouldn't seal yourself in a loop of self-regret." He said bluntly. "That's not what we need right now." Quatre looked down in shame. "Besides, there's something I want you to do." Quatre looked back up. "They want to test me on the Zero system. I want you to stay with them in case something happens." Quatre nodded.

"Yeah," he replied absently. He lifted himself out of his seat, which took much more effort that it should have. Heero pushed himself away from the wall and Quatre followed him out of the room.

Trowa stood completely still by the test monitor, awaiting the arrival of the new test pilot. He hoped that this time they had chosen someone competent.

"Get into the cockpit." A rough voice commanded. Trowa saw a boy of about his age with ruffled dark brown hair glare at his instructing officer, and then hopped into the cockpit with complete ease. Trowa noted the boy's familiarity with the suit. The other OZ soldier joined Trowa along with another boy in his wake. The boy in tow, Trowa noticed, had a feeling about him that some deep part of Trowa recognized. The smaller boy's blonde head snapped up and his aqua eyes widened marginally. Trowa thought he saw joy sparkle in those innocent eyes.

Quatre observed the soldier that stood before him. He was rendered speechless, which at the moment was a good thing, otherwise he'd have babbled Trowa's identity away. He knew Trowa had infiltrated OZ, and somehow, he must've managed to get back there. Joy and relief surged through him at once. He clamped down on his emotions as soon as he felt them rising. No use in giving everything away and blowing it. He just hoped Trowa could see the happiness he felt. Trowa raised and eyebrow and turned to his fellow officer.

"Colonel Une wants us to gather all the information we can on this thing's system." He informed Trowa. Trowa nodded. The former seated himself before the monitor. "It's pretty intense, I hear." He continued, starting up the test. Quatre observed the more elegant soldier as he watched the monitor with eyes of stone. Trowa held himself perfectly as a top officer among the OZ soldiers. The blonde shuddered involuntarily. This Trowa made his skin crawl. He didn't like the idea of being Trowa's enemy, even if it was only an act. Quatre's half-trance was broken when he heard a gasp. "He's-he's going out of control!" the officer shouted. Wing Zero began to move, began firing recklessly. Quatre flung himself out of the way, following the two officers. Quatre gripped that railing of one of the walks and shielded his eyes with an arm. He watched the destruction.

"Heero?!" he shouted. Quatre frowned deeply. "No, you're not Heero!" Debris flew about him in all directions. A large chunk of metal flew at him. Quatre's eyes widened, he stood there paralyzed. Trowa appeared, throwing himself at the blonde, causing the two to roll out of the way.

Trowa lied there for a moment; Quatre sprawled out beside him. He wondered why he'd even bothered to save the blonde boy's life. He had no relevance to Trowa. The tall soldier pushed himself off the floor, and pulled Quatre up gruffly. For a moment, the two stared into each other's eyes, heedless of the sparks and metal that flew about them. Then Trowa's emerald eyes hardened, and he frowned.

"Move!" he barked to Quatre, and he took off. After a moment of dumbfounded ness, Quatre stumbled after him.

After losing track of Trowa, Quatre went after his next plan. He sprinted to the idle Mercurius.

"Hey, you! Hold it!" a soldier shouted as Quatre approached the crimson suit. Quatre whirled to face them angrily.

"You people don't wanna die here, do you?!" he spat angrily. Feeling he'd satisfied them, he climbed into the cockpit. The machine jerked into motion.

Trowa looked out the window of the departing shuttle. He felt a taste of regret in the pit of his stomach for leaving so many behind. He had been lucky again. He'd caught an emergency shuttle leaving to the nearest OZ base. Still, he couldn't help feeling pity for those two boys. The loss of the scientists, he would get over, but those other two…

Trowa shook his head. They felt so familiar, it was a strange feeling. He knew logically, though, they had no connection to him whatsoever.

"Is that it Heero?" Quatre said as he knelt beside Heero's limp form with his hand placed over his heart. "Let's go to Earth." Quatre stood and supported Heero on his shoulder. He looked back at the two suits among the bright orange towers of flames. "I pray Trowa made it through this." Trowa, I promise I will find you, no matter what.

Duo sighed heavily as he walked out into the night air. Or the fake night air, as the colonies had artificially induced nature. He didn't appreciate the fact that no stars were visible. He smiled ruefully.

"I fight to protect something I can't even enjoy." He declared to himself. He walked on through the street casually, his long chestnut braid trailing behind him. His thoughts drifted to his comrades and the sudden inquiry of where they were began to bother him. He stopped short and frowned. "I can't care about them that much, can I?" He rolled this over in his mind and realized, besides Hilde, they were his only friends. And Heero…

Duo shook his head. How odd that he would cross his mind. Or maybe not. Duo smirked inwardly. "Damn Yuy. Now I wish it had been me instead of you." For all Duo knew, Heero could be floating around in space dead. Duo shuddered. Not the kind of thought he needed right now. "That guy can survive anything. He'll be back."

Duo made his was back to where he and Hilde stayed. The air around him seemed heavy and desolate. He opened the door to the house.

"I'm home." He announced flatly. He looked about him. No one.

"Duo," Hilde's voice came from the other room. It seemed to waver a bit. Duo made his way there and his jaw fell open. Next to Hilde, holding a gun, was a man clothed in OZ uniform. He had curls of brown hair with side burns on his face. He smiled at Duo's entry.

"Duo Maxwell. I'd appreciate it if you'd come with me." The gun made a clicking sound. "If you don't mind."

There were blasts of smoke and fire as each explosion bit into a section of the colony. Each went off, one after another. The sound hollowly rippled across the area, growing distant. The endless space of air mad it impossible to send back an echo, yet the sound rang dully in the ears of the young pilot observing the nothingness it left. He watched in dumbfounded horror the space before him, which had once been his home. The memories it had held for him, the honor, which had been so intricately woven into his mind, his heart, and his soul. Now it was nothing, sparse flakes of dust and ash. Rage and frustration grew within him, and he threw back his head and let out a long, desperate cry of anger, sorrow, and…vengeance. This deed would not go unpunished. There would be justice. And that thought settled itself at the front of his mind, not to be forgotten.

Une slowly leaned back into her seat, legs crossed at the knees, a slow smirk growing upon her face. She clasped her hands together with a feeling of victory. It was quite fortunate how pieces of catastrophe had fallen so wonderfully into place. First, she had managed to escape and attempt on her life. For a moment, he brown eyes darkened in anger. But it subsided when she thought of Trowa. He had already been valuable. Yet somehow, it was all the sweeter when the package was…airtight. There were no possibilities of failure this time. His Excellency would be most pleased with her.

"Now the scene is set. And Master Treize has the upper hand. If we're lucky, maybe they'll give us a good fight." She laughed through closed lips, smug and confident. Her joy, however, was cut short by a sharp pang that shot through her head. Her hands quickly moved to her face and temples and she slumped to the floor on her knees. After a few moments, her head cleared, and she moved her head to look around. She blinked a few times, and then pushed herself to her feet slowly. Once standing, she untied the ribbons in her hair, and let it fall loosely over her shoulders. In one smooth motion, she removed the wire-framed glasses perched upon her nose. With movement much less brusque than when she came in, she silently abandoned the room. It was a new woman who left.

~owari~

Lorelei: I'm proud of me.

Pinku: *sigh*

Lorelei: Well, I am!

Pinku: …

Lorelei: What's your problem?

Pinku: You never write anything about me and A-chan!

Lorelei: *sweatdrop*

Pinku: Plus, your writing stinks!

Lorelei: *tears in eyes* You…you can't mean that!

Pinku: I do.

Lorelei: But…you're the one who helps me write…

Pinku: *facefault* Oh yeah…

Lorelei: *grin* Minna-san! I'll be writing more soon! In the meanwhile, I will not be writing AxP/PxA stories!

Pinku: But…

Lorelei: Bai bai!

Pinku: *pouts*