Two chapters in so many days? Unheard of! By now… well, you know the drill; 'author thanks readers, author asks opinions, author continues with story…' by now it's ritual. Enjoy!

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Deep within the heart of Neo Hong Kong, Wong Yun Fat's mansion is the place where our story picks up anew, dear readers. Already fully restored from the Domon fiasco, the mansion looms over it's smaller neighbors, just as Wong's old government building used to loom over it's brethren. Repairs were still in the works as far as that particular matter was concerned, but that's not the point.

Ensconced in the epicenter of this sanctuary, his sanctuary, Wong himself worked with the pile of paperwork that had accumulated on his weekend off. Though he had only been absent three days, the stack of documents threatened to spill off of his desk at any given time. On the other side of the desk, an intricate model of the near-completed Neo Hong Kong colony sat, as it had set ever since the project was first started, well over a decade ago. On another nearby desk sat his computer, a Pentium Twelve that displayed a three-dimensional screensaver with dancing pocky sticks sat. Behind him a fat cat dozed on his bed. Shelves hung over the bed displayed all sorts of elaborate collectibles.

Though Wong had at least two hundred more documents to go through his mind wandered to his discussion with Sadira as they had returned to their respective nations.

Marriage...

Wong had never even considered the option of marriage before this day, and not just for the reason that he had not met very many truly appealing women. His zealous nature and enchanting voice was what had earned him the position of Prime Minister at just twenty years of age. Though he surrounded himself with splendor at home, he was constantly at work. Most of his friendships were political in nature and had been for quite some time. He didn't exactly mind it that way – he is one of the rare people who takes pleasure from his job– but the lifestyle had left him little room for a social life.

And then there's the rigors of being in a marriage...

That had been one of the main reasons why, when he did get time to go on social outings, he did it with such intense fervor that he usually seemed the life of the party, as passionate at play as he was at work. Of course, he had met quite a few women along the way. Most of them had been truly the stereotypical political airhead, and while he had enjoyed the pleasures a few had to offer, his heart was never in it. Still, marriage seemed such a chore. It was like a permanent diplomatic meeting where neither side could get the advantage over the other. He had also met quite a few men in his time who were married, and each and every one of them had detested their wives with a passion. Most drowned their depression... literally, in alcohol. And while Wong enjoyed the occasional glass of wine, he had no interest in becoming a raging alcoholic.

But she's different.... she's not like other women...

Wong had known Sadira Kreuz for the whole of three months. During that time, he had seen several layers of her, from the sarcastic firebrand who had insulted him in so many words when they had first met, to the thoughtful, shy lady whom he had shown the wonders of his city, to the sophisticated, studious scientist who had created his Politician Gundam. Still, three months was three months, a very short amount of time. Couples who had waited years to wed broke off in mere months or sometimes even days. Love was a very fickle mistress, as Wong had known for quite a while, even though he had not felt it himself. At least not the love shared between mates.

Still, he could not deny that he enjoyed being around her. Sadira was intensely strong, yet at the same time delicate. The combination intrigued him, just as it had intrigued him once before... in a young woman named Allenby Biazury. Yet there was more to Sadira than one simple paradox. Though she was obviously not a member of the aristocracy like he, she possessed many of the traits of the elite. Wit, intellect, sophistication, all there. Yet she lacked the snobbish mannerisms that he had seen in other 'women of refinement', which was a definite plus in his book.

Yet there's more to it even than that, isn't there?

Their relationship had begun in the most venal of ways. A man looking for a way to clear his name, a woman looking to be wooed. Yet, in three short months, it had become so much more than either of them had planned.

After all, it is said that love does not adhere to the rules of logic...

Love? Is it love? Can it be called love? That look in her eyes...

Don't kid yourself. This could very well be a trap, and you know it. You have plenty of enemies...

I...I...

When Wong looked down he found that the letter he had been writing to one of the executives over him had become a mess of indecipherable scribblings. Yet, when he looked closer, he could recognize a single word written in the mess of scrawls.

Love?

Argh! What's wrong with me? That's never happened before...

You just need some fresh air, that's all...

Fresh air... yes, he could stand to stretch his legs a bit. It was 4:30 P.M., and he had been sitting at this desk since 8:15 A.M. Wong rose from his chair, slipping his coat on over his shoulders.

From his bed came an audible meow. Wong walked over and scratched Candy behind the ear. In response, the cat flipped over on it's back, presenting her prone belly.

Sighing, Wong rubbed Candy's belly until she purred with ecstasy.

"You're impossible, you know that, don't you?' Wong asked Candy rhetorically. Yet a smile crossed his face as he strode from his room.

As he passed by Urube's room he could hear faint grunts. No doubt the former major was exercising; he had specifically asked for a set of weights when he had come into Wong's employment as bodyguard. Though he was no longer part of the military, Urube was still a very disciplined man. That was part of the reason why he worked so well with Wong... he kept his head even in the rare times when Wong lost his.

Hopping into the driver's seat of his red car, Wong drove the short distance to the coast and found a parking spot with relative ease. At this relatively late hour of the day, few people were still at the beach, but the beach was not where Wong was going.

He had been up this peak a couple of times before, and as he walked up the moderately steep hillside, he remembered those times. The first time had been when he was very young, and he had been accompanied by his sister and his best friend. The second time was after the accident...

You've got enough problems without having to go through all of that again, Wong.

Mentally skipping that memory, he instead focused on the changes that had gripped this distinct hill. There were not very many. The beach was off to the other side, and that was where most of the people who visited this part of Neo Hong Kong had come for.

Reaching the top, Wong looked at the sight before him – a thirty-foot drop to the rocky waves below, a vast expanse of ocean, and the distant form of Lantau Island beyond. He found it hard to believe that more people didn't take the chance to enjoy this spectacular view.

This is pleasant... I had forgotten.

How long Wong just stood there, eyes closed behind his sunglasses, appreciating the scents that the breezes brought to his nose, appreciating the sounds of the crashing waves below, he didn't know. All he knew for quite a while was appreciation and thought.

Though he wanted to think about the situation at hand, Wong found himself drifting back to the past. He made it a habit not to do that... and yet, here, he found he couldn't stop.

You shouldn't have come here. You knew what was waiting for you.

Yes, he knew... and unconsciously, that's why he had come. This hilltop contained a distinct memory... and, in coming here, he was looking for the guidance that was beyond his reach.

Huang, what should I do?

As Wong searched for answers in his past, someone else searched for answers in the future. Unlike Wong, though, this person dwelled not on the sphere that bore humanity called Earth, but in a sphere created by humanity called Neo Singapore.

Though business hours at the Paragon Institute had ended well over two hours ago, Sadira Kreuz still worked in the main hangar. Her hands were stand with oil and grease, as was her lab coat. She sighed as she cleaned her glasses for the umpteenth time that night on her shirt – not that it mattered, her shirt was probably just as dirty.

You're being silly, Sadira. Go home and get some rest.

Though these were the words of her rational mind, she paid them no heed.

Normally you wouldn't even be doing this. You're the head engineer. You could always get your crew to do it for you.

Not exactly, considering this is something for me... sort of...

Yeah, and a big waste of time at that. You're losing valuable sleep just because of...

Of what? What is it? Is it infatuation? Is it desire? .... Is it love?

As she mentally argued with herself, her hands worked wonders. A layman would not have the slightest idea what she was constructing, and to be truthful, most of her crewmembers wouldn't either. She dealt with mobile suits; this sort of thing was out of her league entirely. Yet, when she had run across the blueprints just a few days back she had immediately snatched them up. Not much had survived the collapse... but enough had survived for her to fill in the gaps.

And you'll get absolutely no reward for this, you know. This is your time and energy devoted to practically nothing.

It's not nothing... after everything he's treated me to, he more than deserves this.

Maybe he has wined and dined me, but it's all been for his own ends. I saw that article, after all.

Maybe that was the reason in the beginning, but things are different now... for both of us.

Am I so sure? After all, Allenby's still alive and well...

No, she wasn't so sure. Sadira Kreuz wasn't the type of woman who was sure about anything. Surety, she had seen, was a fool's indulgence, and it was best to live life with a come what may attitude. Yet, she had never felt this way about anyone before...

Big deal. I also haven't been in very many relationships before.

It was true. Sadira had not met very many men in her life. Growing up she had devoted all of her time to success in school, which didn't end up getting her much anyway. When the opportunity to advance her life came along she snatched it up and hadn't looked back since. For the first time in her life, she had been truly happy – finally doing something she enjoyed, making a decent living, having somewhere nice and clean to call home, and even someone fuzzy to wake her up in the morning. Yet, she had never gotten into a relationship. The men she had met on the job were all chauvinist pigs who didn't think that she could do their kind of work. That was early on. Now even the older men respectfully called her 'Sadira-sama'. It wasn't that she was some sort of chart-blowing super-genius... it was just that she had a knack with technology in general, and mobile suits in particular.

Which reminds me about that strange order that came in today...

Earlier in the day she had received an order from a man identified only as T. Farkill. The order was odd even by the standards of the Paragon Institute... a custom compound sensor system, six mobile-armor grade beam sabers, and a mobile-armor grade EMF shield. Compound sensor systems were rarely used due to their high cost. Mobile-armor grade weapons period were not in high demand, due to the proliferation of mobile suits in colony forces. An EMF shield of mobile armor proportions hadn't even been created yet. The EMF shield was a very new and very effective defensive weapon that was only available to the most advanced of development centers and the highest of bidders. All in all, an order of this caliber spoke of a bidder with lots of experience in mobile weapons and lots of money to play with.

Yet, why just order the parts? Why not request the weapon entire?

Sadira shrugged to herself. She had more problems to deal with than one weird order. Namely, the problem of dealing with this stupid compact hydraulic system. It was really kicking her butt.

Then again, this is out of my league. I admitted that earlier. So, why am I still working on it, when it is... Sadira paused to look at her watch, 11:37 P.M.?

Probably because you want to surprise him... she answered herself.

And while you're slaving away, he's probably in bed dreaming of Allenby...

Oh, stop it!

Intelligence in the midst of ignorance for many years had sharpened Sadira's sarcasm, sometimes more so than she'd like.

I wonder what it will be like when we do get married...

That's making a big assumption.

Maybe... she thought, gritting her teeth in the physical world as she tightened the screws on what appeared to be an oblong air conditioner, ..but in this case, I don't care.

Why not? she asked herself.

Because... she answered her cynical side as she worked, I know he cares about me.

She stepped back, her hands on her hips as she examined the ovoid contraption. Only when she examined every inch of it did her face break into a smile that illuminated her features despite the smudge of dirt clinging to one cheek.

Her hands on her hips, Sadira looked outside, beyond the barrier over her colony home, to the stars beyond.

I wonder what you are doing right now?

Farther out in space rests the Neo Italy colony. Just as on the Earth, colonies have their own time zones, and while it may be midnight in Neo Singapore, it is only 7:00 P.M. in Neo Italy. Within this colony sits a man watching a screen. Shown on the screen is a shuttle docking with the colony. So, when this man heard the footsteps coming to his door, he said to the intruder.

"Yes, I already know he is here. Lead him to my conference room, and treat him with the utmost courtesy."

"As you bid."

Mordred allowed himself a sigh as he rose from his veritable throne and made his way down the halls of his home. A castle that had been his family's going back twelve generations, it had been completely disassembled at his father's command at the time that the Neo Italian colony was first constructed. The castle had been transported to the new colony and reassembled to perfection. And, it showed. The stones lining the walls around him were easily over two hundred years old.

Stepping into the conference room, Mordred sat down at his personal chair at one end of the square table. Four minutes later his guest entered. Mordred shot a look at the form beyond, who immediately retreated, closing the door behind him.

"Welcome to my home, Faulkner Essex. It is a great honor to finally meet you in person."

Faulkner sat calmly at a chair on the opposite end, watching every move Mordred made with his forest-green eyes. Mordred was perfectly aware of this.

"The pleasure is all mine... Mordred, you said your name was?"

"Mordred will be fine."

Faulkner picked up the glass of wine that sat next to him and sniffed at it. He looked up at Mordred.

"Vintage FC 38?"

Mordred nodded. "Correct. February FC 38, to be precise."

Faulkner sipped at his wine carelessly, then looked at Mordred. "I believe you have requested my presence for more reasons than simply to show your knowledge of distillery, Mr. Mordred."

Mordred leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Indeed, I have, Mr. Essex. Indeed, I have."

Mordred then pressed a small button on his chair. The wall behind him opened to reveal a large screen. A movie began to play, without any sound, merely images of the Earth, and past Gundam Fights.

"The Gundam Fight... an elegantly simple solution to the problem of international war. For over sixty years, the nations of the universe have relied on this form of government to keep the peace."

As Faulkner watched Mordred, he frowned. His usual calm confidence turned to perplexion.

"Yet, the Gundam Fight has it's holes. These holes first appeared in the 11th Gundam Fight, and have only grown more conspicuous in later Fights.

"Yet, despite the obvious and very real dangers Neo Japan released on the entire universe, still they are allowed to rule over Earth and space. Clearly, then, the Gundam Fight has reached a point where it's value to the nations as a whole must be questioned."

"Then what is your solution?" inquired Faulkner.

Mordred grinned. "One elegant in it's simplicity. It is time for the nations of the world to once again be united under one flag, just as they were in the days of the British Empire. The power is there for the taking... and as a man of vision, I intend to be the one to take it!" He ended that statement by clenching his fist, then looking at Faulkner, who rubbed his chin, deep in thought.

"That, then, is why you have called me here. You wish for my Faulkner Industries to assist your... plan.

"Correct." smiled Mordred. "I believe that we can help each other a great deal. What do you think, Mr. Essex?"

To his utter surprise, Mordred watched as Faulkner laughed... not a cruel laugh or even a mocking one, but a low laugh with just the faintest hint of scorn. Then Faulkner, serious once again, turned to his host.

"You see, Mordred, I may not be aware of the full details of your scheme, but already I am certain that you have your own private reasons for a conflict. Why should I waste billions on what would amount to a venture with little to no gain for my own?"

Mordred smiled wickedly at Faulkner. "There wouldn't quite be a gain, but there wouldn't be a loss, either. No one would ever know your little secret."

Faulkner's green eyes narrowed. "So, you do know."

"That's right." nodded Mordred. "However, I will give you credit – I found out only very recently. You hide your true nature very well, Faulkner, but you cannot change what you are."

"So, I suppose now it's no longer a business proposition." mused Faulkner. "Now your grand plans have come down to common blackmail."

"You needn't think of it as such, Mr. Essex." replied Mordred. "Instead, think of it as a... joint venture."

"I will think of it as neither." said Faulkner, his eyes cold, "... because I will not be a part of it."

The only change that came to Mordred's face came to his eyes. One narrowed into a slit, the other grew dangerously bright.

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Essex? Surely you must have misstated your intentions."

"If you know everything there is to know about me..." replied Faulkner, "... then no doubt you are aware that I never misstate anything. And, the fact of the matter is that I have no interest in helping you pursue your pathetic plans. Even without my abilities I already know what your true plans really are. One has only to read it on your face."

"Then allow me to do the same, Mr. Essex." sneered Mordred. "When I make offers, they are not refused. You have the opportunity of a lifetime at your feet. Your company, now merely respected, shall stand alone, first among all nations! Merely a businessman now, great leaders would tremble before you! Why throw all of that away?"

"Simple." answered Faulkner. "I have heard plenty of grandiloquent schemes in my time, and I know how to dissect them. There is more to me that my birthright, Mordred. Or should I instead say your true name?"

"If you do not join me, my dear Faulkner, then obviously you are against me." said Mordred coldly.

"If that is the way you wish to see it, Mordred."

For a moment Mordred considered his options. He had more than enough servants to overpower Faulkner. Disposing of the shuttle would be easy enough.

One less nuisance to annoy me in the future...

But the look in Faulkner's eyes reminded him just why he had wanted so badly to have the entrepreneur on his side. Even though he had taken precautions, Faulkner was still a powerful man.

It doesn't matter. I'll dispose of him at my leisure.

"Well, then, it appears as though there is nothing more to say. My servants will show you out."

Faulkner rose and made his way to the door without looking back. Mordred watched him go, his face twisted into a mask of hatred.

"No one insults me and lives to tell the tale. Your secret will be exposed and your name dragged through the mud, Faulkner Essex. And yet... it will be nothing compared to what I shall inflict upon Wong Yun Fat."

Once Faulkner left, Mordred made his way back to his control room. Once there, he sat down in his throne and watched Faulkner board his shuttle. Yet it wasn't long before he grabbed a nearby remote control and pressed a button. The screen shifted; now showing again the tape of Wong from the 12th Gundam Fight.

For hours Mordred sat in the darkness, watching the tape over and over again. He did this quite often, and his servants knew better than to disturb him. For it was during this time that their master was plotting out his intricate stratagem, and his reasons for doing so.

Wong... considered Mordred,.. I will first destroy your power, then your material joys, then your friends and loved ones. And then, once you are alone and defenseless... once you are mine... I will take great joy in your anguish. I will rip the skin from your flesh and the flesh from your bones and scrape your bones dry. And still, you will not have suffered enough...

Six months later

A fierce duel was being fought. Two mobile fighters and their Gundam Fighters within, going at it tooth and claw. One of the mobile fighters was vaguely reminiscent of the classic Spiegel Gundam, only it had large shoulder claws and two rapier blades instead of the arm-mounted blades of the Spiegel. The other mobile fighter was no more than a giant clam, and it was currently closed up, simply withstanding the assault of the other mobile fighter.

This was the image being broadcast around the world, and more specifically, on Wong's television. Of course, this was the start of the 14th Gundam Fight, looked upon by many with suspicion and apprehension after the events of the previous Fight.

The Survival Eleven was underway, and in just a few months the final matches would be held in Old Japan's long-since decrepitated Tokyo. To 'calm public fears' (or at least that was the excuse he gave), Prime Minister Karato ordered that Neo Hong Kong refrain from participating in this Gundam Fight. That was fine with Wong, though. Even if his nation had been given the ability to participate, he had virtually no one who could don the mantle of Gundam Fighter.

Also, in a move that surprised everyone, none of the former Shuffle Alliance deigned to even enter the Gundam Fight. Even Domon Kasshu had declined. Speculation of all sorts was made, and Karato had to settle for an unknown by the name of Ikkitou Sen as Neo Japan's Gundam Fighter. Though he had no experience to speak of, Karato was banking upon the fact that Ikkitou wouldn't even have to compete until the Battle Royale, and there he could probably let the other Fighters take care of each other.

To his great surprise, Wong found that he didn't care much about the Gundam Fight, and not just because he had no personal stake in it. Though the decision didn't bat relentlessly at his mind as it had done early on, he found himself thinking more and more about Sadira's proposal.

They had gone on one more date together – an outing to one of Sadira's favorite restaurants at Neo Singapore. She had not asked what his decision was, but Wong had seen that she wanted to. Instead, she made subtle hints that she had a surprise in store for Wong. Whatever it was, Wong was curious. He had always enjoyed surprises.

As for the proposal itself, Wong had given it more thought than he had given to decisions that had changed his nation. For months he had gone about his work, all the while debating the issue in his mind. At the same time, he had kept track of the name 'Mordred.' Very few were willing to talk about him, but from what little Wong had gleaned the man was exceedingly wealthy, and his fortune was surpassed only by his cruelty. What 'Mordred' had to do with him he had no idea.

Clicking off the image with a disinterested flick of a button, Wong got up and stretched.

So, the day has finally come…

Urube walked in as Wong slid his coat on. He sat down in a chair opposite the former Prime Minister.

"So, I take it you'll be leaving today?' he asked.

"Yes." acknowledged Wong. "I've already got everything arranged with my superiors, and I trust you can take care of matters while I'm gone…?"

"Of course." nodded Urube.

Wong got up and made his way to the door. As he put his hand on the knob he heard Urube's voice behind him.

"And, Wong?"

"Yes?"

"I know you've already made up your mind and all… but, take it from me as a friend…. I think you should… well, go with this."

Wong's eyebrows rose in surprise as he turned to face Urube; it was rare for the major to ever comment on his decisions. The two usually kept their friendship at business length.

"I mean, you need someone like her in your life, Wong. It sounds presumptuous coming from me and all, but…" Urube seemed to be at a loss as to what to say.

"I know…" responded Wong "… and trust me, this is the best decision that I've ever made."