Author's Note: Don't own GW, though the original characters are mine. Don't own much else. Please, don't sue me.

Warnings: Occasional OC POV, Lady Une Centric. Action/Adventure, possible romance. Gonna try and keep this PG-13.

Chapter 1:

Lightening broke the sky. Thunder clapped. Windows shook in their frames.

"One second." Mariemeia shouted. "One mile and closing."

Une winced as her adoptive daughter gripped her hand more tightly. Mariemeia hated storms. Hated them with the passion born of fear, pain, and the memory of Wing Zero's beam cannon. Still, the clutching grip was a decided improvement. A year ago, the child would have curled in her lap and shivered. A year ago, when they had started this game, she whispered the seconds so softly, the thunder swallowed her sounds. So much changed in a year.

"Maximum kill capacity!" Mariemeia screamed as the sky caught fire again.

Une smiled. "Did you learn that one from Duo?"

Mariemeia nodded. "When he taught me the trick to reprogram the sinks to…" She kicked her feet out from inside the quilt. "I mean, last time I went with you to the office."
"Right." Une shook her head. She'd have to have another discussion with the Preventor's most popular practical joker.

"It's nothing against the policies."

Probably because the 'policy' hadn't been invented yet.

Thunder crashed. Mariemeia jerked against Une's side. Une carefully unclasped her hand and dropped it around the girl's shoulder. Lightening.

"Two miles." Mariemeia choked out.

When Une stopped to think, she felt it should be strange, her arms wrapped around Treize's daughter as Trieze had once held her in this house. Then again, it felt natural. In a way, they were both orphans.

Eventually the rain steadied, not stopping, instead beating a staccato rhythm against the roof. The wind stilled to a gentle breeze; the thunder rolled off into the distance. Eventually Mariemeia's voice fell silent and the child fell asleep.

It was then Une heard someone pounding at the front door.

****

"The docking bay?"
 "Gone sir."

Former Alliance Admiral Michael Caldwell arched an eyebrow turned to grey. He did not look pleased. "What do you mean, gone?"

"From what my team can determine, a 6.5 meter circumference around Dr. Andrew Keton disappeared. It was not an explosion, not a laser mine; the surrounding area shows no signs of Minovsky particle residue, which rules out a beam weapon as well."

Former Alliance Commander Brian Desperoix stood in at ease position, beefy hands folded behind his back, feet apart. But his mind was far from eased. In plain language, something had ripped a hole out of his docking bay, left it bleeding to space, and Desperoix had no idea what had done it.

Caldwell sighed. "The Marx quandary, once again."

"Sir?"

"I doubt you've heard of him." The admiral shrugged. "Carl Marx. He wrote a number of books in the pre-colony era. Constructed a logical, beautiful theory of society. Great Empires built themselves on his words. But like all pure theories, his possessed a fatal flaw."

"Yes sir."

"You know, the time for soldiers is past." Caldwell's blue eyes brightened. His tone grew hard. "Our swords are beat to plowshares, and peace reigns over Sol."

"Sir." Behind his back, Desperoix felt his hands begin to sweat. He was familiar with the look of madness. He had seen it on the battlefield often enough. The horrors of battle changed a man. Broke him, forged him, and sometimes drove him insane.

"Dr. Keton had his perfect theory." Caldwell leaned back in his leather chair. He closed his eyes. "Instantaneous personal transmission. His phase calculations for the weapon were in part based on this passion. It made him well suited for the project."

"You believe he was successful." Desperoix blurted out.

Caldwell smiled. "I believe his theory was flawed. How flawed, of that I am less certain. Either way, find me the remains of the docking bay, and I believe we will find our missing scientist. And the missing data crystal. You are dismissed, Mr. Desperoix."

Desperiox turned towards the door, his mind spinning. Simply find a 6.5 meter sphere of the remains of a docking bay, scattered anywhere in the colonies, earth, or most likely, floating in the uncharted depths of space. Caldwell was insane.

But insane or not, Desperoix would search, because the admiral was also right. The peace Desperoix had fought for died when his wife died, shot down by a Gundam beam cannon while piloting Alliance diplomats to the site of a peace treaty.

What peace could be built on the backs of terrorists, turncoats and murderers?

And if peace was a lie, what choice did he have but war?

****

Une didn't like surprises. Surprises meant assassination attempts. Surprises meant hidden caches of gundanium. Surprises meant coups. Surprises meant secrets, and secrets never boded well.

Mariemeia barely stirred as Une shifted herself from beneath the girl. She slipped quietly through the door into the hallway, and pressed her hand against the far wall, next to the floor to ceiling bookshelf. A screen appeared. On it were five different full color views of the house, including the front and back entrances. At the front stood the hunched over form of a man she didn't recognize.

He leaned against the corner of the porch and pounded on the door again. The audio pickups caught the word, "Preventors."

It had been over a year since anyone attempted to assassinate Mariemeia, but Une hadn't built and lead the Preventors by being a careless woman. She brought the radar array online first. On three corners of her property were radar transceivers. Each sent out a separate signal. The combination of the three built a three dimensional representation of her property. She superimposed the new data against the baseline map of her house, and noted two anomalies: 1. the man outside her door and 2. a 150 centimeter circular lump imbedded in the ground approximately fifty feet from the back of her house.

Une touched the screen in the far right corner, turning on the outside speaker. "Who are you."

The man's voice held a mixture of exhaustion and terror. "Kill me. They'll kill me."

Une activated the sonar next. A low ping echoed from the basement. A moment later, data bounced back. The results were obscured a little by the falling rain. Even so, the mystery item came up as inert. Metal. Accuracy 78%.

A low hum sounded. Alarms were dispatched automatically to Preventor HQ as the autocannons perched on her roof dropped. A red warning flashed on the screen, "Fire: Yes? No?"

"Who's trying to kill you?" She waited a moment, her hand hovered over the screen, then touched, 'No.'

"I need to contact the Preventors." He shivered. Damp dark hair fell into his eyes.

Une couldn't help a bitter smile. "You've got them, now talk."

"I…I..."

"Preventor officers are in route." Une explained. "Any evidence you might offer to aid the Preventor organization is welcome."

The screen blinked again. "Incoming. Request Identification. Identification Acquired."

Two minutes. Heero and Duo must have been moonlighting at the office again.

 "You can by telling me who you are, and how you made it through my perimeter security."

Bright light bathed her porch. Two Taurus mobile suits landed on her lawn.

"I…I…" The man turned his head frantically left and right, then stared, his eyes wide with terror.

"Your name?" Une prompted.

"My name is…" He took a step forward, then swayed. "My name is…I don't know."