Era of Change II Army of the Void

by TB the Third

The Gundam pilots and Transformers thought their battle was over-they thought wrong, for War is coming, and the epic is just beginning...

2. Starting the Waltz

Disclaimer: I own none of this.

CHAPTER ONE: STARTING THE WALTZ

Benign blue skies smiled down on the continent of Europe. In the city of Brussels the streets buzzed with the activity you would expect from the world capital. Lawyers with new legislative proposals, stockbrokers running to see whose star had risen or fallen overnight on the stock exchange, tourists showing their children the city from which they were governed. For this crowd, there were three main attractions;

The first (and most obvious) was the parliament itself. Formerly a mansion owned by the reclusive Romerfeller Foundation, the parliament building stood on an island in the middle of the river that bisected the city. Famous events that had occurred here included the creation of the United Earthsphere Alliance and more recently the Earthsphere United Nation. It was here where legendary statesman and general Treize Kushrenada had resigned from his position after a dramatic and moving presentation to Romerfeller, and it was here where a young girl had briefly reigned as Queen of the World. Though that particular office lasted for less than a month, the impact it had on the war that was being fought at the time was dramatic.

The second was 'Gundam Plaza', which devoted itself to commemorating the events of that same war of AC195 and the December Revolution of AC196. Built during the reconstruction of Brussels after that short but violent war, the plaza stood over the spot where the famed Gundam mobile suits had made their last stand against the forces of the Barton Foundation. The large open square had metal plaques built into the surface, on which were listed the names of everyone who had died in the two conflicts. Bronze models of the Zodiac class of mobile suits stood on pedestals around the square, and the fountain in the centre had a slightly larger statue showing the five Gundams themselves - Altron, Heavyarms, Sandrock, Deathscythe and Wing Zero. This was a popular place for parents to bring children to soak up the history of wars they had been too young to understand.

The building that was rated top on the list of any tourist guide was of course, the Presidential Residence, nicknamed by some as 'White House II'. Like the original White House of Washington DC or 10 Downing Street in London, the building had a rapidly growing mythology and there was always a crowd at the gates, trying to catch a glimpse of the hub of government half a kilometre up the tree-lined drive.

Like the rest of Brussels, the Residence had a connection to the wars of recent years. It was from here that the December Revolution had been conducted, and the final shot of that conflict was fired on the building.

Today however, was a day of celebration. Crowds of guests drifted across the open lawn behind the building. Bunting and banners proclaiming 'Happy Birthday' decked the building's rear facade and trestle tables continually distributed an ample supply of food.

One figure who was right in the middle of the crowd was an attractive girl currently helping herself to some of that food. Relena Dorlain sipped a glass of shiraz and chewed on a cocktail sausage as she observed the party. Dressed simply in jeans and a pullover, an observer would initially mark this girl as one of the guests, maybe the daughter of one of the ministers. That observer would have been very confused as other high-ranking government officials greeted her as they passed, a few stopping for brief conversations with the teenage Vice Foreign Minister.

Eventually satisfying her hunger, Relena began to make her way through the guests searching for a particular man. Eventually she found him, an elderly gentleman playing with a young girl, who beamed as Relena approached them.

"Hi Miss Relena!"

She chuckled.

"Hi Emily, you making sure your grandfather's behaving himself?"

Emily nodded vigorously, her grin stretching from ear to ear. At that moment a young puppy ran up and started yapping around their ankles. Her attention diverted, Emily ran off after her pet, chasing him across the green lawn.

President Stuart Parnell watched his granddaughter run off with amusement and affection in his eyes as he stood up. He was well into his fifties, and had been his granddaughter's only parental figure for many years, playing mother, father, grandmother and grandfather to the orphaned girl. Relena smiled with him as they watched her roll on the grass with the dog.

"She's a sweet girl."

"I know."

After a few seconds, Parnell looked down at the youngest member of his cabinet.

"So are you here just for the wine and canapes or is their something on your mind?"

Relena nodded, her expression suddenly serious.

"Yes, but I'd prefer if we talked about it indoors."

Relena reclined back in the large navy couch and smiled slightly.

"Well firstly, happy birthday Stu and I hope everything's gone well in my absence."

In an armchair across from her Parnell smiled.

"As well as can be without the brightest mind in my cabinet."

Relena blushed at the praise and pulled a dossier from her bag.

"This is the report I made during my month's absence. It's rather extensive so I'd like to give you a brief report of my own."

Taking the thick dossier, Parnell nodded and laid it aside. He clasped his hands and sat back, waiting patiently. Relena sighed and rubbed her forehead.

"Where to begin...Where to begin...Last October the Preventers were called out by an agent to a mining operation on Mt. St. Hillary in Oregon, USA. Blasting operations had revealed a series of artificial caverns within the volcano which the Preventers believed were part of a secret military base. A number of mecha were discovered in these tunnels and it was assumed they were either mobile suits or mobile dolls of some origin, but that assumption turned out to be incorrect..."

The president held up a hand and Relena halted. Parnell smiled.

"Firstly, you're getting worked up. Slow down a bit and take all the time you need. Secondly...what kind of mecha exist that can't be classified as MS or MD."

Following his advice, Relena took a moment to catch her breath then continued.

"The structure and the mecha were later verified as...alien."

The transformation in the President's face was amusing to Relena. Humour and slight curiosity were replaced by confusion, then utter disbelief as the meaning of those words set in. Parnell leaned forward in his seat and looked like he was going to be sick. He opened his mouth to reply, but all he could get out was a strangled - "My God."

Relena quickly left the room and came back with a beaker of water which she pressed into his hand. Grateful, Parnell sipped it and composed himself.

"When you say alien you mean...extraterrestrial."

"Yes, mankind has finally made contact with other life. The mecha turned out to be a race of sentient, living robots called the Transformers."

Brain racing, Parnell looked up.

"You mean...they were still alive?"

"Yes...They were reactivated before we realised they were not normal machines."

"Have you had trouble containing them?"

"Some...but the majority have proven themselves as civil and willing to abide by our laws. The others...have been taken care of."

The militant tone in her voice did not go unnoticed. Parnell looked at her for explanation. Relena started pacing slowly across the office, his eyes following her like he was at a tennis match.

"When these transformers left their homeworld...which has since been destroyed, they were engaged in a civil war. Two factions, the Autobots and Decepticons, locked in a stalemate.

The spacecraft we discovered was attacked and boarded during spaceflight some four million years ago. During the battle control was lost and it crashed to Earth, burying itself in St. Hillary.

When the Transformers awoke and discovered that their planet, the reason for their war was destroyed, the majority were willing to settle their differences in the hope they could build a new home somewhere in the Earthsphere. The faction that did not left, attacked an interstate, built an army, then came back to kill all of us. We were forced to...respond with equal force."

Parnell was once again shaking his head, then stopped, looked up slowly.

"We? You...didn't, did you?"

Relena grinned slightly, embarrassed and nodded.

"In a way...I operated Wing Zero."

Parnell chuckled, then burst out into laughter.

"My God...the public would take news of aliens and UFOs in their stride, but if it got out that the 'Pacifist Princess' has fought in a mobile suit...a Gundam...Damn!"

Relena started laughing as well, her bell-like chimes adding to his Oxford- accented chuckles.

"Well, technically it wasn't piloting but..."

After the giggling had ceased, the President of ESUN quickly got back on track.

"How many people are in the know on this?"

"Too many, though fate couldn't have dealt us a more capable team to deal with it. The five Gundam Pilots all know, six if you count my brother. Five other Preventers agents, Marimaia, the mining team, and a group of engineers who take undercover contracts for the Preventers. Some Winner Corporation staff have had contact but the handsome salaries Quatre delivers ought to inspire secrecy. The numerous people who witnessed the interstate attack were too distracted fleeing for their lives to notice anything untoward about the their attackers."

Parnell listened and filed the information for further consideration later.

"You said something about these...Transformers building a home in the Earthsphere...has a location been put forward?"

"Yes actually, Quatre and I suggested..."

Again, Parnell held up a hand.

"I don't want to know, yet. Knowing you it'll be a good solution but radical enough to set me against it. Draw up detailed plans, feasibility studies, tie it all up with a few miles of red-tape and then present it to me."

Pensive, Parnell leant forward, resting his chin on his hand as he thought. Thinking he wanted some privacy, Relena turned to leave.

"You know of course I'm relocating you to act as government liaison to this project."

Relena stopped, her hand on the doorknob; she slowly turned, and Parnell was able to see the slightly hopeful smile on her face.

"I see it in your eyes everyday, weariness, isolation. Shoulders as young as yours were never meant to bear the weight of politics, and you've carried this burden for four years. You put in more hours and twice as much effort as any other minister, including myself. Any longer and you'll have grey hairs before this year's out."

There was a moment's silence. Parnell stood up and smiled at her, holding the dossier against his hip.

"You're young, and devoted to the Earthsphere, but you need to live the life of a normal teenager. Posting you to this project will allow you to do your part for the people and be around your best friends. Set yourself easy hours and do what kids your age do. Go get raving drunk at some seedy bar for all I care but have some fun."

Relena nodded her head, her eyes shining and walked out the door. Parnell scratched his back of his head and smiled down at the dossier, glad that he had done right.

Two seconds later, Relena darted back in through the door and hugged the taller man, who returned it, then stepped back and tousled her hair like a proud uncle.

"I leave everything up to your judgement. If you think these Transformers are trustworthy, then I'll back you and them all the way."

Relena leaned against the door, "It'll be alright. I trust the Transformers as much as I do the Gundam pilots."

Parnell mimicked utter despair, "Then we're all doomed - I remember your American friend spiking the punch at the 197 New Years Eve party."

She grinned back, "We were all blind drunk long before midnight weren't we."

The CD case cracked open and removed the compact disk from within. Someone had scrawled '02's favourite tracks' across it with a thick marker pen. Long white fingers shoved the disk into the player and turned the volume up to the max.

Duo Maxwell grinned and clicked his fingers as a heavy-metal tempo slammed at him from the speakers mounted around the cockpit of the Leo Mobile Suit. Electric guitars screamed and percussion bombed his world as he grabbed the collectives and grinned into the mouth-piece of his radio headset.

"Right Ironhide; Bring it on."

The steel face that filled the display screens broke into a grin and blue optics narrowed in mirth. As Duo rammed his weight against the twin controls he began screaming along to the lyrics.

"Always...Noting on my time, a little left of centre now!"

It made quite a sight from the outside. The olive-green Leo collided with bone-crunching force with the southern-spoken Autobot. Sparks flew as their metal chassis ground together and they wrestled each other into an arm- lock. Even from out here the echoes of 'Not Falling' by twenty-first century punk rock band 'Mudvayne' could be heard, driving more birds from the adjacent trees than the actual battle.

"Reflect, as I realise..."

One uppercut from the Leo snapped Ironhide's head back and the red Transformer stumbled back as Duo took up a fighting stance.

"...That all I, need is to find - the middle-pillar path."

Duo's off-key yowling was broken by the sight of Ironhide wiping a thin trail of lubricant from his mouth and smirking.

"The only thing wurse' than yer' combat style is your taste in music."

Unprovoked, Duo grinned back.

"Oh you are so asking for it!"

Once again the two wrestlers charged each other and locked hands, straining to push the other back, one a life-long soldier, the other a street-raised kid with a knack for piloting. It was an equal match. Metal buckled as they squeezed the other's hand, their feet dancing back and forth as they tried to gain advantage.

"I, I'll stand, Not Crawling, Not falling down!"

Ironhide quickly broken the stale-mate by transforming and using the weight of his vehicle-mode to override the mobile-suit. Duo countered by kicking the offending van over his head and planting it's bonnet in the ground behind him. With the familiar sound signature, Ironhide morphed back and tried to take Duo's machine out of commission with a punch to the balance gimble in the exposed back. Anticipating, Duo rolled back and the Autobot's fist sliced the air above him. The Leo reached up and seized Ironhide's arm at the elbow, yanking him down and pinning him to the ground with a move Duo had seen on WWE.

As the final cords of Not-Falling played a car-horn sounded loudly and the two contenders fell apart, shattered, Ironhide standing back to allow Duo to climb out of the cockpit and catch his breath on the rim.

A yellow Autobot who would have barely come up to the Leo's waist walked across the marked-out wrestling ground and declared the results.

"And the winner, as judged by performance, technique and sheer style is...Shinigami, making both of our contenders equal after ten rounds in the ring. People, Transformers, give it up for your champions!"

A small chorus of cheers rose up from the edge of the clearing, where Bumblebee's twin Cliffjumper had been watching from. Beside him were the Autobot brothers Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, while the two pint-sized Recordicons Rumble and Frenzy applauded, not caring who won as long as they saw a good fight. Cheering for Duo was his girlfriend, Hilde, currently with a large bandage wrapped around her head and leaning against a blonde youth who cheered just as loudly as the rest.

The fight concluded, the five Autbots quickly tore out of the makeshift wrestling arena and burnt rubber back to their HQ some miles away.

Duo jumped down from the Leo cockpit, high-fived Quatre Winner and swept Hilde into his arms, carrying her towards a US-army jeep that waited in the shadows of the trees. Chuckling, Quatre watched them as Rumble stood up and stretched, clicking the support-columns in his neck.

"I assume that was good Quat?"

"Brilliant Rumble, just brilliant. I've never seen a Leo pull moves like that. Hate to admit it, but Onslaught knew what he was doing when he re- engineered these suits."

"Yeah, that's Onslaught. Loyal and dumb on the outside, but a sly glitch if I ever saw one!"

Chuckling at the Cybertonian curse, Quatre scrambled up the leg of the Leo.

"You and Frenzy need a lift back to the Ark?"

The two cassettes looked up at the mighty suit with mixed awe and foreboding.

"Yeah..."

Quatre yelled down as he booted up the suit.

"Then jump on and hang tight!"

With the same sound as the Transformers, the Leo shrank and twisted into a compact but lethal half-track. The two tapes climbed onto the tread covers nervously, the massive drive wheels spun, and the vehicle tore after the rapidly retreating Autobots.

Seen from the air, Mt. St. Hillary looked...odd. Until a few months ago it had been an average and mostly ignored part of the local landscape, a cinder-cone volcano that had long burned out, its steep sides and long skree-slopes nearly impossible to climb.

Now however the mountain had changed. An entire chunk of the lower southern flank had been destroyed (thanks to an errant fusion cannon), causing a slide which had collapsed the volcano's entire southern side as far up as the cone. Some distance below the point of disturbance and at the foot of the slide was a cluster of buildings, again, until recently a normal mine complex, now turned over to a very different objective. Construction equipment laboured all day and night on the northern side of the complex, drilling, blasting and excavating, before loading the waste into trains for dumping in the ocean.

On this particular day, as the stars began to light the sky, the approaching convoy of Autobots, Decepticons and humans were treated to a magnificent sight.

The arc lights mounted around the excavation and the headlights of the equipment lit up the underside of four giant nacelles that protruded from the collapse-zone. They were the only visible part of a much larger structure that lurked below the mountain's surface, and the first to be dug out by the relentless human engineers.

'Engines, rocket exhausts for the first ever UFO in human history for which there is undeniable proof', though Duo as the jeep named Hound skidded through the gates around the complex. Not needed to actually drive the Autobot, Duo leant back and enjoyed the view as Hilde leant against his shoulder, her eyes closed in blissful sleep despite the rough ride.

'The operation's left her weak, and all this recent activity must have drained her.' Happy and content, Duo stroked the smooth, unblemished skin of her cheek as they passed under the four bronzed, cannon-like engine manifolds and though a hatchway into the actual spaceship.

The Ark. No matter how many times he saw it he would never cease to be amazed. Giant walls of metal rose up around him to a ceiling nearly a hundred feet above his head. There were no obvious lights, the walls, roof and floor seemed to glow of their own accord, a rich golden aura that filled the vessel with warmth and comfort. It was odd to think that this place was quickly becoming home to him.

Hound skidded into the store-room that served as accommodation for the humans onsite, a store-room the size of a cathedral.

Portacabins filled this space; lined up alongside streets big enough to drive through, stacked two on-top of each other with scaffolding holding up the necessary stairs. Everyday a new amenity was added to this small community within a community. Bar, nightclub, showers, even a small cinema. Not to mention the bunkrooms that most of the plastic structures were given over too, though more opulent accommodations were available for a lucky few.

Hound pulled up outside one of these cabins. Duo thanked him and gently lifted the sleeping Hilde over the threshold. Hound's door shut of its own violation and he drove away with a cheerful beep on his horn.

Inside, conditions were comfortable if not luxurious. There were two rooms, one containing a bed, vanity table and a sink, the other a fridge, couch and TV set. Duo laid Hilde down on the double-bed, pulled the blankets over her petite form and closed the door.

Still exhilarated from the fight, Duo decided to walk-off his excess energy before heading back to sleep beside the girl he loved. Striking out in the vague direction of the bridge, hoping there was someone on watch to talk too, he was soon distracted by the sound of yelling and laughter.

'Even at this time of night there's someone awake.'

It was easy enough to trace the sound; though the corridors lit themselves the lighting dimmed in synch with the sunlight outside, all Duo had to do was follow the noise till he found a room with light creeping out from around the edge of the door, which slid open for him. What he found gave him a moments humour.

Three structurally identical Transformers were seated around a projection screen, which was airing late-night human TV. The purple sigil of the Deceptions was proudly displayed on the large wings that projected from their backs, and their chests resembled the cockpits of jet planes. The principle Seeker (their designation), coloured red and silver sat in an metal chair in front of the screen, while the other two, midnight blue and jet black respectively, sat on the edge of the recharge bunk set against the far wall.

All three were craned towards the screen, transfixed.

Skywarp, the black jet, whooped suddenly in exhilaration - "Go on hit him, hit him!"

On one of the armrests of the chair sat a single human figure, dressed in the black and tan uniform of a Preventer. His black hair was pulled back into a painfully small ponytail and his oriental eyes briefly flicked down to Duo as he came through the doorway.

"Hey Guys, Wufei!" Duo yelled up in greeting. The blue Seeker, Thundercracker, ever the thoughtful one, leant down and lifted the American teen up to the position of his colleague as the youngest of the three, Skywarp yelled again - "Use the chair, GO ON!"

Expecting to find WWE or one of the other wrestling channels on, Duo raised a surprised eye at Wufei Chang.

"Jerry Springer re-runs?"

Wufei nodded in reply, his face impassive, but Duo could see the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Duo looked at the screen again.

"What's the topic?"

As Skywarp continued to crow at the screen Starscream spoke out, amusement tingeing his words;

"My mom won't let me sleep with Grandma."

Chuckling, Thundercracker leant forward.

"We were on the side of the son but it turns out Grandma's been dead for two months!"

A sudden series of jeers went up from the screen and the five males leant forward to the screen, soaking up the violence, then sinking back disappointed as security guards pulled the contestants apart. The late Springer, (golden hair perfectly groomed) turned to the camera, dazzling viewers with a smile that contained more teeth than a shark's and which was probably just as friendly.

"And now, our next argument. A man who discovers his wife is a lesbian, who married him just so she could make love to his likewise-orientated sister who shares his home."

The five men grinned in anticipation.

The floor panels trembled to steel footfalls as the largest of the Decepticons stalked along the corridors towards the bridge. The faint light gleamed off the silver and chrome of his body and his red optics gleamed from within the helmet that encased his head.

The figure paused beside a doorway and glanced into one of the larger store- rooms . Inside it looked like a scrapyard, a charnel house of mecha.

At least fifty steel corpses were crammed into the large room, all mangled and deformed. Some lacked limbs while others had large chunks hacked out off them, several looked like they had been dismembered and severed by energy weapons. Damage and heavy burn marks had dulled their recently gleaming paint, but it was still possible to make out the purple Decepticon sigil that adorned each machine.

Incongruously among the wreckage were what appeared to be the limbs of a large transformer, each resembling a combat vehicle. Four shattered railroad locomotives had been heavy-handedly lugged into the wreckage as well. The air stenched of oil and lubricant, aromas which to transformers were as appetizing as the smell of blood is to a human.

Most of the mecha had been drones, with only the standard OZ-optic plate for a face, but a large percentage of those rammed into this tiny space had various Transformer flex-metal features, currently frozen in hellish shock, the grey optics wide, mouths hanging open in terror. Despite the misery that was etched onto these faces, not a speck of compassion or mercy could be seen in the similar features of the observer as he grabbed one particular transformer out of the pile. This one had no face and was distinguished by the missile launchers that rose through his back. One of the railroad engines was lodged through his abdomen, and the visitor yanked it out like a stake, trailing the fluids and components of the dead Decepticon with it.

He held the corpse up to the light and spoke in gravelled tones.

"Onslaught...Coward, traitor, usurper."

Had this transformer been carrying a weapon he would have used it on the pitiful remains of the Combaticon commander, but instead had to satisfy himself by repeatedly punching the head hard enough to cave in the mouthplate.

Carefully, he re-mounted Onslaught on the Canadian-built engine then hurled the entwined machines across the room, where they slammed into a wall and partly disintegrated; wiring, piping and liquid bursting from them as they slid down the wall onto the top of the pile.

His anger satisfied, the Deecpticon left, shutting the door behind him and plunging the necropolis back into darkness.

Elsewhere in the Ark things were quiet. Few Transformers or humans were awake at this hour, either sleeping or recharging.

One figure was on the bridge, occupying the command chair and staring into the reddish rock that had smashed through the former viewscreen before him. Processors and equipment hummed around him as he sat pensive, sapphire optics narrowed, a hand frozen against the mouthpiece that covered his lower face. Checkerboard displays flashed in sequence, reflecting off the highly polished red metal of his armour. His body was frozen, a casual human observer would have assumed him to be offline, only the most perceptive were able to hear the faint hum of his ancillary systems.

Optimus Prime's right hand was held steadily on the armrest, and the tips of his fingers had opened to reveal cables which were attached to terminals in the chair., feeding a steady supply of power and data into his vast quantum-mechanical mind.

One of the aft bulkheads slid open and the same Decepticon who had recently been taking out his anger on Onslaught stepped up behind him. Expecting his former nemesis to say something, he was surprised when his entrance provoked no response at all. Walking in front of the Autobot commander he noticed the fixed look and power cables linking him to the chair, and waved his black fingers in front of Prime's optics, trying to get a response.

Prime's vocal unit rumbled softly and he chuckled.

"Evening Megatron."

Momentarily startled Megatron stepped back before composing himself. He waved at the power feeds.

"Do you normally recharge while on watch?"

Prime shrugged.

"A habit I picked up during the war. I took to recharging whenever I had an opportunity. You could be pretty random about when you chose to attack. It also makes a watch easier when you're plugged into the actual security network."

"Constant vigilance eh? I like you Prime."

"Well I should hope so given that we're working together."

The two leaders shared a grin, not that you could see Prime's, and he stood up, unplugging his digits as he stretched his stiff limbs. Megatron glanced curiously at him

"But since we haven't got the security network fully on-line, what were you doing?"

Megatron could sense a slight rise in the temperature of Prime's emotion circuits in his cheeks and hear his 'pulse' quicken as extra coolant was pumped up to cool them; he was embarrassed.

Prime replied in a low mumble which Megatron prompted him to repeat louder. he sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"I was watching 'The Lord of the Rings, The Two Towers.'"

Megatron chuckled at Prime's expense and then pointed out that the 'Return of the King' was better. Even, they turned to more important matters.

"Are all of your Autobots back on line following last week's battle."

"Fully repaired and itching to give their new systems a test-drive. Ratchet's using human technology to repair them because he says it's simpler to install and remarkably powerful."

"The Constructicons agree. While repairing Starscream they went over him with a fine tooth-comb and were amazed how much his speed, endurance and agility have been boosted by the Gundam parts the humans fitted him with. Scrapper's hoping I'll let him refurbish every Decepticon in this manner and I gave him carte blanche to update anyone in for repairs."

"Is Soundwave out of your repair bay yet."

"Completed but Hook wants him to remain for observation for another day. Soundwave is apparently grateful to that human female Noin for taking care of his 'children' during the time he's been offline."

Prime nodded and then looked straight at Megatron.

"How's your arm?"

Megatron winced slightly and held his right forearm up, an entire panel had been removed exposing damaged systems and overloaded circuits underneath. Without the black fusion cannon that was normally mounted on that part of his body he looked remarkably different; one's optics were drawn first to the actual Decepticon rather than the weapon he commanded.

"Scrapper's getting Hook to patch my damaged system up tomorrow now that the more critical cases have received attention. The actual cannon is probably 75% destroyed, and since no-one knows how the mis-functioning thing works it's going to be difficult putting it back together."

Prime's brow furrowed in confusion.

"You don't know how to repair your weapon? I can strip my proton rifle down and repair it easily enough..."

"...Except the fusion cannon never breaks down and has never required maintenance. All I know from my diagnostics systems is that there's a particle acceleration unit inside and a subspace pocket that can feed it antimatter, as you saw last week...It's a self-contained unit that only draws a fraction of its power from the Transformer bonded to it. Except for polishing I've never had to do anything to the blasted thing so I don't have the first idea about what's inside it and neither does anyone else."

"Before we left Cybertron Wheeljack was experimenting with nuclear weaponry. Would you like him to have a look?"

If Megatron were human his face would have paled, "I'm not sure...I've heard his projects have a habit of self-destructing..."

Prime's optics narrowed in humour, "Mere rumour, only one out of three objects that Wheeljack comes into contact with explode..."

Megatron's concerns about Wheeljack were not aided by the fact that most of the Ark personnel were awoken the next day by a small explosion from his lab. The self-professed 'mad scientist' of the Autobot team briefly left the room to apologise then disappeared back into the acrid fumes that were curling from the doorway.

Wheeljack was the oddest in appearance of the Earth-bound transformers. Like many of them he had no mouth but a smooth face-plate. Sitting either side of his head however were two large fluorescent beacons that lit in up synch with his words. It gave him a distinctly eccentric appearance and Megatron was extremely hesitant when he handed over his treasured weapon into Wheeljack's 'tender care'.

The morning sun was just creeping over the horizon, lighting up the area around the entrance to the Ark and beaming orange streaks of light into the azure sky. People were just beginning to stir from their sleep, but no-one had yet to appear on the surface of the complex.

Save one.

Chris Latta slumped against a large boulder and stuck his hands in his pockets, shivering slightly in the cold.

'Damn it! Since when did this job include duties as a babysitter - and with this particular baby!'

His foot idly played with a discarded Coke can while he waited.

High above the Oregon skies an aircraft was currently dancing an intricate ballet, the dawn's rays gleaming on its multicoloured metal skin. Gold, azure, scarlet and silver glinted as it climbed over and under through a loop, Vernier emissions powering it above and beyond, higher and faster. The long bulging cylinders of those engines fused into a red manifold that swept around the cockpit, curving into a sharp, angled beak. Instead of wings it was fitted with two giant silver assemblies that each sprouted an extra pair of engines.

It was a beautiful bird, but it was clearly a bird of prey. Under the raked beak two identical weapons jutted into view. The long, smooth barrels merged into a pair of tiny Minovsky generators, capable of punching vast amounts of deadly energy through the weapon and into the unfortunate target. In the previous wars, this weapon had destroyed a colony, an entire battleship, an armoured bunker and several hundred unfortunate mobile suits. Yes, the Twin Buster rifle was ideally suited to the occupation of this aircraft's pilot.

Chris looked up at the sound of a powerful engine and winced in disgust as an electric pink Rolls Royce rolled into the mine complex, now just a collection of burnt -out shacks.

The tasteless car pulled up beside him and the elderly driver – Pargan, opened the door for the passenger. A mop of red hair squatted over cool grey eyes which instantly locked onto her assigned escort. Latta shook his head slightly and saluted to his protectee.

"Miss Kushrenada."

The portion of the Ark where the humans spent most of their time other than their quarters was the Mobile-Suit bay. Like most of the vessel, an empty cargo-hold had been turned over to a function it had never been designed for. Temporary holding racks for mobile suits had been erected along the walls and some of the equipment from the submarine Genesis had been used to construct a repair-shop.

Five of the ten racks were currently occupied, three Gundams, and two derivatives of the Leo design. Numerous mechanics were currently scrambling over the three Gundanium machines. Though it had been a week since Sandrock, Heavyarms and Altron were crippled in battle neither had yet been surveyed. The backlog of work meant that repairs to the on-site Mobile Suits was only just beginning.

Of the three Gundams, the least imposing was probably the machine that was painted in various shades of green, deep emerald striped in lighter shade. It had the least armour and the most slender proportions. However, despite it's utilitarian appearance, many souls could testify to the 'awesome lethality' of the Gundam Heavyarms.

The military machine's captain was currently elsewhere, but someone was half buried in the open chest. The four Gatling Cannons had been removed, and a pair of legs clad in Hawaiian shorts were sticking out of one's recess. That person was currently cursing voraciously as he fought a reluctant piece.

"Fit in there you piece of crap! Damn it!"

Something snapped and the person gave up fighting. A steam turbine was thrown out of the aperture and clattered to the ground and shortly after a bespectled man sat up in the hole.

A red metal hand reached down and picked up the turbine casing, the smashed blades scattered around the floor. The white Transformer held up the metal manifold and put it to his right optic.

"I spy with my little optic, one irate little Howard."

Chuckling the Autobot medic lowered the device and smiled at his human counterpart's expense.

"Won't fit?"

Howard Calahan was an excellent designer and mechanic of mobile suits. As he himself put it, he'd "been in on this scam since the beginning." Many however wished his dress sense was advanced as his skill with a spanner. He invariably dressed like a surfer regardless of the weather, and his shirts came with a warranty that they would blind at a hundred yards for a minimum of five years.

Howard scowled back at Ratchet over the top of his triangular sunglasses.

"Oh it'll fit."

"Of course it will. You humans are so obsessive at your work. You'll make a round plug fit into a square socket just to prove a point."

Picking his spanner back up Howard went back to work on the mechanism that rotated the cannon barrel.

"Thanks for the compliment, at least I think it's a compliment."

Ratchet leant against the wall and pointed across the room.

"Could be a compliment, but I was commenting on your stubbornness. For example."

Howard followed the finger with his eyes and looked on the two 'Leos' mounted on opposite racks to the Gundams.

"Please observe. The Tallgeese, designed over twenty years ago, partly by you I understand. Next to it a Leo, a design your military kept mass- producing till AC195 despite its quickly becoming obsolete. Now as both the Tallgeese and this version modified by Onslaught show; you were onto something with the design, but why, oh why did you keep manufacturing a flawed downgrade for twenty years? The answer is because you were adamant that it worked and wouldn't be swayed."

Howard smirked as he threw gears, bearings and drive shafts out of the chest cavity.

"You've got us pegged, or at least our bureaucrats."

"And yet..."

Ratchet trailed off, Howard turned from his work and saw the Autobot medic examining the mechanism that protruded from the machine's severed left arm.

"...You're remarkably inventive."

He waved at the intact arm.

"Mind if I have a look?"

Howard nodded, curious about what a fellow engineer would have to say about the systems he helped design. Ratchet lifted Heavyarm's right arm up to him and flipped open an access panel on the forearm. His finger prodded the machinery inside.

"I'm amazed. There's practically nothing in here. Twenty years development and you've reduced all the mechanics down to the bare minimum."

Howard shrugged and walked along the outstretched arm to where Ratchet had opened it up. He knelt on the edge.

"Like you said, in theory it's simple. There's two hydraulics in the upper arm and one in the lower, both pushing on a common pivot. There's a few motors to help. But then you've got to calculate variables, tolerances etc. With mass production you could churn these out, but each Gundam is tailored for it's pilot. Plus each Gundanium component takes a hell of time to grow. It's a genetic metal, we program the desired shape into the liquid material which then grows gradually and sets. Then, the process is so delicate it has to be done in zero gravity. It's a lot of time and even more effort."

Ratchet was calmly nodding through this.

"Seems that both technologies are lacking. Transformers have too much surplus mechanicals, while the best MS are too much effort to manufacture. Perhaps a fusion of the two would benefit both parties."

Howard looked up, a twinkle in his eye.

"I had the same idea when I first looked inside Starscream, and then Chris and I locked ourselves in a room with a draughtsboard and several casks of beer."

Chuckling at a private joke, Howard looked across at the Tallgeese 2.

"I guess most space in a Transformer's body is taken up with computers that deal with your personalities, emotions etc."

"Yes, but once again your human technology has the solution to shrinking that down, and Onslaught used it."

"The ZERO supercomputer?"

"Yes, I had a look inside Onslaught's new Decepticons and compared them to your blueprints of Wing Zero. Each laser-core was connected to a simplified ZERO superprocessor, only Epyon had the full system. Those few circuit boards could replace 42% of the micro-processors in my body."

Howard smiled slightly.

"Well the Zero is perhaps the only portion of Gundam tech. I had no-part in developing. That was down to my former colleagues. It must have worked though...Tallgeese was Treize down to a tee from what I've heard."

As he chuckled Ratchet frowned.

"Well it was General Kushrenada in there. Onslaught used the MS's stored profile of the last pilot's brain when he designed the laser-core."

Howard's chuckling trailed off. He locked eyes with Ratchet, face suddenly serious.

"You're bullshitting me!"

Confused the Autobot shook his head. Howard was suddenly thoughtful, contemplative.

"Well what'd know...All this time the solution was right under my nose...Guess I couldn't see the wood for the trees."

Ratchet watched on as Howard laughed.

On the other side of Altron from Heavyarms, Marimaia watched on, bored as Chris pried open the access hatch on Sandrock's upper torso with a crowbar. He briefly looked up at a technician.

"You pulled the fuel-rods?"

"Yeah."

"Any damage?"

"Some, one had ruptured and we lost the fuel."

Latta shook his head.

"So that's only several million credits worth of Helium-3 lost." He threw the crowbar down, it's task done, and it clattered along the curved chest before sliding off the side and dropping to the ground. "Perfect."

Disgruntled, he turned back to the now open hatch and stuck his head in, before pulling it out again. He turned to Marimaia.

"Alright hotshot - you're a child prodigy, so tell me this. This Gundam was caught in an explosion which smashed the chest-plate in. All power was lost - extreme internal damage. What happened?"

Marimaia replied as if reciting from a textbook, her eyes fixed on the machine on the other side of the hanger, the one which had been of so interest to Howard and Ratchet.

"The reactor shielding failed and the released plasma melted the innards. The reactor shut down instantly so the damage was short of a self- detonation, but not by much. Only the Gundanium armour endured."

Latta's confidant grin slowly dropped and he gave up any pretence of toleration, barking out violently.

"Fine! What is it!"

The young red-head whipped round and locked eyes with him as he carried on unabated.

"You've been deliberately ignoring me for half-an hour and only speak to me like you were an android. So what was it? What did I do to deserve your contempt?"

Her reply was stern, almost as if she was scolding him.

"You shot my grandfather, Communications Officer Latta, you 'executed' him."

Silence fell as the enmity between the two rose to a palatable level. Marimaia's tone suddenly lowered, softened.

"And you carried me to the medical officer, and gave me three pints of your own blood, without which I would have died from blood-loss."

Latta, unable to hold the gaze of those eyes looked away. She continued, a trace of confusion in her voice.

"Why? If you had no qualms over killing Dekim Barton, why make such an effort to allow Marimaia Barton to live."

Staring away from her, Chris grunted back in clipped tones.

"I let Marimaia Kushrenada live."

She cringed slightly. He sighed.

"I knew your father, served under him. He was a good man, loved his men. I was betraying his memory by following Dekim, though it took Commander Une's words to wake me up to that fact. After that transgression I owed it to him to keep his only child alive. And...you were just a kid. Dekim was well aware of his sins and died because of them. You were an innocent in his plans."

Marimaia nodded in understanding and looked across the hanger. Latta followed her gaze and grinned slowly.

"Come on."

The same machine that had been dancing over Oregon swooped low over Mt. St. Hillary. As it reached the lowest apex of it's swing, it transformed. Components twisted, engines extended into legs. But unlike an Autobot or Decepticon, there was no audible sound to this change, save a faint clicking of gears.

On the chest of the Gundam which now towered over the surroundings a compartment opened, and a young man climbed into view. Messy brown bangs covered his head, and he wore only a baggy green shirt and a pair of jeans.

Heero Yuy, the unofficial leader of the Gundam team looked up at the head of Wing Zero which overhung the cockpit, and patted the metal in a gesture which was odd for this introverted youth, for it displayed emotion. It was almost...affectional.

"Well done Zero...and thanks."

No-one other than Heero noticed, but the optics of Wing Zero gleamed briefly in response.

"...Thanks for taking care of her."

"Here it is. Tallgeese 2. Your father's mobile suit."

Tentatively, the young girl reached out and touched the cool metal of the machine's foot, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

Gently, Chris cupped his hands and boosted the would-be world conqueror onto the Tallgeese's foot and then pulled her up the handholds to the cockpit.

Marimaia had always had a respect for her father, the man of legend who she was raised to follow, but she'd never had an actual physical link to him. She was born out of a brief and unsuccessful marriage, one that should have stayed as a love affair had Dekim Barton not insisted on Treize Kushrenada and Leia Barton tying the knot. In retrospect, she could now see that that was just so that her claim to the throne of the Earthsphere would be genuine, rather than a real desire for her father and mother to be happy.

Her father had left before Leia had taken the pregnancy test. She had intended to present his daughter to him at the age of ten, but cancer of the stomach had put an end to that ideal.

This machine, this mobile suit, was the first time she had come into contact with anything that belonged to her father.

Marimaia reached out and touched the fabric of the seat, the handholds on the collectives. And, for the first time in many years, Marimaia acted her age, and burst into tears.

Preventers Message Log. 06/01/199.

Time: 18:29.

From: H. Callahan, C. Latta.

To: Isla Nublar.

Message Recipient: L.Serman.

Text: Gundams 03/04/05 received severe damage in recent classified combat. 02 & T3 destroyed, 04 unusable. Currently en route to I.Nublar via Helix. Data suggests upgrade/overhaul needed replacement of destroyed MS.

Action: Remove components CUSTOM / GABRIELLE / OMEGA / BLITZ / SCARAB / HYDRA / GUNDAM TG from storage and prepare for installation by 15/02/199.

End Message.

Howling wind drove a wall of dust through the main hatch to the Ark. Curious, the fourth Gundam pilot made his way along the corridor. Trowa Barton's emerald eyes stared out from beneath his distinctive fringe as he fought his way through the dust-storm, a hand held up to shield his face.

Four Mikoyan-Tianamen 1.5K Helix helicopters hovered low over the mining complex, the downdraft from their two counter-rotating rotors stirring up tornados.

Engines idling the four MiT's touched down on the concrete surface of the marshalling yard. They were very ungainly aircraft. The rotors were mounted on a thin stick of Gundanium, the machine's keel. Astern the keel billowed out into the massive stabilizing fin, the tail-rotor mounted in the vertical wing. Straddling that were two jet engines and the long, insectile landing struts. Forward sat the two turbines that drove the rotors and the ungainly bubble of the cockpit that hung from the keel. The fuselages were painted a plain olive green, indistinguishable from the colour-schemes of most militaries.

They were Chinese-built heavy lift transports, and were often sold to various armies where bomb racks, gatling guns, surveillance equipment and sometimes even manned, armoured bunkers were fitted to the brackets suspended from the keel. Quatre had picked ten of them up at an auction in Beijing, finding them useful for the transport of certain pieces of 'heavy machinery'. Despite the helicopters weight and ungainly appearance, the jets mounted to their sterns could push them at the speed of most air- liners.

Beside them a small personal helicopter touched down, it's lovingly polished silver and blue bodywork gleaming as brightly as the gold W on the tail.

Admiring the aircraft Trowa stumbled towards the woman who jumped from the smaller machine's door.

Ann Une was as business-like as ever as she climbed out of the helo, dressed in her formal uniform of white shirt, black skirt, tie and jacket. Composed despite the howling downdraught and gusting sand, she made a commanding presence.

Une pushed several strands of her hair out of her eyes and returned the salute Trowa threw her. Almost deafened, Trowa was forced to yell to make himself heard.

"What's with the fleet!?"

Une cupped her hand to her ear and motioned for him to wait for a second as she watched the second passenger jump out of the plane. Trowa's eyes blinked in surprise.

"Relena?"

Relena was wearing a very...'unusual' outfit for her. Her ample chest barely fitted into an olive T-Shirt, while her legs were squeezed into black trousers which ended in zip-up boots. Over the T-shirt was a loose jacket; black with tan shoulder pads, on which was a black hexagon containing a green P.

She was wearing a casual Preventers uniform.

As Une made a 'time-out' gesture with her hands to the helo-pilots the engines finally shut down and they could hear each other speak. Trowa continued to stare at Relena in surprise and mild disbelief, barely registering the footsteps he could hear behind him.

Zechs Marquise jogged up to the small group and mimicked Trowa's expression as he laid eyes on his younger sister. After a few second's silence he put voice to both their thoughts.

"What the hell!"

Two minutes later, indoors;

"I've temporarily asked to be transferred to the Preventers, until the Transformer situation is dealt with," Relena explained.

Zech's didn't reply, just stared at his sister with a disapproving expression. Relena locked eyes with him.

"What! You're not happy?"

Trowa chuckled slightly as he compared the militant expressions on the two sibling's faces as they stared each other down. Une likewise, stepped back, as it was possible that anyone who stepped into either's line of sight would be instantly incinerated.

Eventually someone had to though, and she did.

"Right, break it up kids."

Lucrezia Noin, a woman both siblings held a great deal of respect and affection for stepped between them and pushed lightly on Zech's chest with the palm of her hand, snapping the stalemate.

"Zechs, Relena's staying and I doubt there's much you can do to stop her, Relena, you should expect this kind of behaviour from an older brother. Now kiss and make up."

Zechs rolled his eyes while Relena flicked hers skywards in exasperation, but she was grinning. Une stifled her giggles while Trowa watched the affair over his drink glass.

Relena bounced down off the table she was sitting on while Zechs stood up from his chair. Reluctantly, they shook hands. That action seemed to release something within them and they embraced tightly, Relena pecking her brother on the cheek. Noin laughed.

"I didn't mean literally."

DOWNLOAD IN PROGRESS.

Howard waited impatiently as the cockpit screen blinked rapidly; at this point, discovery would lead to questions, questions he would rather not have to answer.

One of the shredded control panels beside him suddenly sparked violently, briefly illuminating the damaged cockpit.

'Why did I never tell anyone about this.'

The progress bar on the screen continued to fill slowly.

'You know full well - you wouldn't want to get Une's spirits up until success is certain.'

DOWNLOAD COMPLETE.

One hour and several drinks later the atmosphere in the base bar was extremely jovial. Relena was still sitting on the edge of the bar while the five Gundam pilots lounged around. Noin and Une seemed to be engaged in some kind of drinking game while Zechs served up further drinks from the pumps. The air was heavy with yeast and the scent of cigarette smoke that seemed to hang around the room even though no-one smoked.

Just enjoying being around others and not having to worry about politics, Relena sipped a G&T while observing the others. Her jacket was rolled up on the bar and she wiped a few drips of sweat from her brow in the contained, muggy space.

Duo drunk his Castlemaine with his right hand while throwing darts at the board on the wall out of the corner of his eye with the left. Getting all of the darts within an inch of the bulls-eye he turned round with a beaming grin on his face.

"Better that!"

Hilde smiled at him over her apple juice (her head injury meant she wasn't allowed alcohol for at least two more weeks). Silently Trowa put down his half-pint of Guinness and retrieved the darts. Holding the three lengthways in his hand he raised his arm to twelve-o-clock, then whipped his arm forward in a snapping motion. The three darts flew straight and true and thudded into the bulls-eye with pinpoint precision. Duo's grin faded.

"Well, those three only count as one! You threw them together!"

Unsurprised by Duo's comment, Trowa returned to his pint. Beside him, Heero regarded his untouched glass of Strongbow cider like it was an unexploded bomb, arms crossed and brows furrowed with suspicion. Tentatively, he took a sip, and the same brows lifted with surprise.

Quatre was halfway through some fluorescent fruity cocktail which had at least three different liquors and pink dye in it, already looking more convivial than he had thirty minutes before.

Une and Noin had two shot-glasses, a bottle of Smirnov and a deck of cards set up between them. Each held a hand, though they seemed to be having difficulty focusing. Noin pulled a card from her hand and laid it on the drink.

"Snap. Take a shot."

Triumphantly, Noin poured an inch of Vodka into the glass and held it out for Une, who regarded it like Heero his cider, before knocking it back.

"You fold Ann?"

Unable to speak and her eyes watering, Une shook her head. Noin shrugged, wiped some sweat-soaked hair out of her eyes and started to shuffle through her hand. After a few seconds she looked up again.

"So how's life?"

She waited for a second before Une began gasping a reply.

"So-so. Work's satisfying but time-consuming as hell. Home's great. Marimaia might be the only ten-year old in the world who has MS blueprints pinned to her bedroom wall instead of boybands but its nice to have someone round my apartment. Used to get lonely."

"How's she adapting to family life?"

"Slowly, but I'm wearing her down. She accidentally called me 'mum' last month. Guess it's difficult trying to be a normal kid when you're on a major conglomerate's board of directors."

"She's still with the Barton Foundation?"

"Secretly yes, and snap, snap, and snap again."

Noin looked down at the vodka bottle.

"Oh-great!"

Zechs slowly sipped some Wild Turkey whisky, pacing himself. Wufei leaned against the wall beside him, a glass of orange juice in his hand and a disdainful expression on his face.

Fans slowly wafted air over the faces of technicians as they gazed into their monitors, not noticing the splendour of the cosmos outside the viewscreen.

The International Space Station was outdated long before the first colonies were in orbit, but had been retained throughout the centuries as a symbol of national unity and man's determination to conquer the stars. In recent years it's main use had been as an early-warning station after the UESA had given it a hefty refurbishment, but it still retained the pioneering sense of the years of NASA, Yuri Gorgerin and Neil Armstrong. And, in addition to it's long and venerable history, it had a special part in the story of the Gundam pilots. In April AC195, words had been spoken here that had begun their legend.

Today, a remarkably similar conversation was taking place.

"Sir! Moving object confirmed at Lagrange Point moving in the LXG direction."

The commanding officer leant over the control panel and observed the green blip on the radar.

"Check it out, but don't get too concerned. It's most likely pieces from an old satellite or something."

The technician leant over the beeping console as the projected course of the object altered.

"Unidentified object is easing it's angle of descent."

The officer leant out the window. In the far distance he could see a streak of light, almost like a line of hastily applied paint, angling away across the violet rim of the Earth. It's current position was directly above Japan, streaking west at a remarkable shallow angle.

"Yeah, piece of space junk. Maybe even the first stage from one of the old Apollo rockets. Leave it."

"But sir!"

"What?"

"Would a satellite be riding the radiation belts without burning up?"

On the verge of total collapse, Une stood up and rapped her empty glass against the edge of her table. The mostly intoxicated crowd looked up at her; The ever-so dizzy Relena was supporting Heero who was staring into the empty bottom of his first ever alcohol with a glazed expression on his face. Duo seemed to be dozing off to sleep while a tired (but not drunk) Hilde leant on his arm. Trowa and Quatre were laughing at some private joke. Noin looked dishevelled, while even Wufei had been prompted into sharing a drink with Zechs.

"Right people...I said I'd let everyone get comfortable before I announced the course of action...Guess that was a mistake."

There was a series of chuckles. Une tried to pull herself upright and staggered a few paces.

"Right...As you are probably aware, the beautiful Relena Dorlain has joined the Preventers - there she is people..."

Une pointed across the room where Relena stood up and took a bow.

"Give her a hand."

Relena sat down to scattered applause, a few cheers and a wolf-whistle. Glancing at Duo, Une shook her head.

"She was meant to just help and aid the Transformers but since those affairs are handling themselves well enough, came to me asking if she could do some time with our happy little band. I warned her the hours were crap and the pay worse but she, in her insanity was adamant, and specifically asked if she could learn how to pilot after cutting her teeth on Wing Zero..."

A few raised eyebrows were directed at Relena. Were Zechs more coherent he would have probably have objected to that request but he was currently staring at his hand as if he'd never seen one before.

Une continued, sipping from Wufei's discarded water and composing herself.

"On the bigger picture, I'm pulling the Gundams out of here tonight on those Helixes that Quatre kindly leant us..."

Quatre, likewise received some applause.

"...I will be personally escorting them to our Pacific base where an elite group will try to correct the damage you lot have wrought on them with your cack-handed driving. I have had to hire a team of demolition experts just to take them to pieces so we can put them back together again..."

Laughter.

"...As punishment for your sins, you will enjoy a four day cruise to that same base on the Genesis, and I hope your Typhoon gets stuck in a typhoon."

Some mock booing and hissing. Une grinned.

"Okay, guess I deserved that. Zechs, Noin - I want you to stay on post here and do the job Relena should be doing if she wasn't desperate to learn how to kill people in an MS. You other seven leave tomorrow. I suggest you get some sleep."

That done, Une slumped down in her seat and seemed to pass out. The others, rather than leaving for their quarters seemed content to stay in the bar and doze. All were in that happy place between wakefulness and sleep, not wanting to move in case they shook off the pleasant feeling of warmth and security that enveloped them like a blanket.

There was a knock on the door. No-one stirred. Unnoticed it opened and Marimaia Kushrenada stuck her head through the gap, wrinkling her nose at the smell of beer, second-hand smoke and sweat. She stepped in and manoeuvred herself among the prostrate forms, Chris following behind her. He shook his head good-humouredly.

"You guys had a party and didn't tell me."

Duo raised an arm, his words slurring slightly.

"Hey Chris, I'm too out to think, so no hard questions. Live with it."

Chris chuckled while Marimaia jumped into her adoptive parent's lap with unusual cheerfulness. Une jerked back into consciousness and grinned.

"Hey there red."

Marimaia shook her head.

"Red? You are drunk."

Une tried to straighten up.

"Yeah, I know, and why are we so happy?"

Chris smiled at the two from by the bar where he was mixing the dregs of different drinks together, resulting in a runny brown solution that resembled st. Judging by the reaction on his face it probably smelt as nice too. Perfect.

While Une and her daughter continued to talk, Chris walked around the bar waving his creation under the noses of the comatose pilots, a cheap and nasty alternative to smelling salts.

Preventers Message Log. 06/01/199.

Time:20:48

From: %($)ERROR!

To: NeurologyWard, BartonHospital2, L3 Cluster.

Message Recepient: !(SCRAMBLED!

Text: Here's a present that might help TK.

Attachment: Pilot Profile/T2. zip.

The streak in the sky was first noticed over Sendai, Japan, where people watched the rapidly moving red dot pass overhead with grim expressions on their faces. Astrological events had been regarded in the middle ages as portents of evil times, and the same seemed to apply to more recent years. Four 'meteorites' four years ago had triggered a war, and one Christmas eve a particularly beautiful display of 'shooting stars' over Europe had turned out to be several hundred hostile mobile suits.

Following roughly the 40 Degrees North Latitude it soon crossed the Korean city of Pyongang. By the time Beijing passed beneath the Chinese could see the red line of its firey trail.

Crossing over Asia the object beat the dawn over the Caspian Sea. Turkey didn't notice a thing but the people of Italy, Spain and Portugal were rather confused by the white contrail that was burned across their sky when they awoke. At their mid afternoon the Azores saw a glowing line zip across the northern horizon.

The total time from the ISS technician's observation till New York reported a giant sonic boom in the sky over their head was one hour. Minutes later, Chicago's evening sky was lit by what one reporter described as a giant meteorite, now low enough for individual flames to be seen in it's wake.

Night had come to Oregon. In a sky remarkably clear for it's climate stars could be seen. Like the night before, Mt. St. Hillary was being transformed as further sections of the ark were exposed.

On the northern flank however, all was peaceful and silent; the air still, the grass dry and cool.

Two young couples sat near a Humvee that had brought them some distance up the mountain. Though Hilde had driven them it was probably still an irresponsible thing to have done, but they had done it. They were just above the tree line, and from here there was a beautiful view over the wooded foothills that unrolled from the mountain. In the distance could be seen the cut of the Colombia gorge and a faint glow on the horizon indicated the small town of Astoria.

Grasshoppers chirped and a wolf howled in the distance. Hilde and Duo held each other's hand and enjoyed the silence.

About a hundred feet away Heero and Relena were similarly engaged; he lying out on the ground, she hugging her knees to her chest.

After a few minutes of her staring at the view, a contented smile on her face, and he gazing steadily at the stars, they shuffled closer and took each other's hand.

Soundwave was a bit higher up than the humans, actually sitting on the crater's rim. His audio sensors had picked up the human's movements below him and he had altered his position to give them some privacy.

He maintained a still vigil, staring out east across the geological valley between the Cascade and Rocky Mountain Ranges. Rumble, Frenzy and Buzzsaw were currently 'dormant' in his chest, but Ravage and Lazerbeak were outside with him, the robotic puma crouched by him, slowly being stroked by his indigo parent. Lazerbeak was somewhere in the skies above, enjoying flight. Soundwave wasn't bothered, as long as the mechanical bird didn't disturb some human aircraft.

'Pain. Pain like no other is all my world has been reduced to. But that is the summary of my life from the day that Chaos came. This pain, burning in my spark surpasses all else. The cold, knawing pain of loneliness. But I must warn those who he seeks, those who wield the powers he fears. They are the universe's only hope, and I have tracked the energy signature of their greatest vessel for an eon. Now I have reached them, I have drained myself. My energy has fallen to the point I can barely control my fall. I'll most likely die on landing, alone on a strange alien world. But then, I am Kranix, the sole survivor of Lithone. I will always be alone.'

Ravage pricked his ears up as something stirred his audios. Soundwave, noting the puma's action, reactivated his superior senses and was instantly bombarded with a wave of sound. A great wind, the crackle of flames, the scream of oxygen molecules being split by temperatures too great to comprehend.

Homing in on the source, he looked to the north-east.

It was Hilde who noticed it first, shaking Duo to get his attention, shocked into muteness. He looked up and his mouth hung open in surprise.

Shooting over the Rockies was - something. It was impossible to make out it's shape or even it's size, only that it was coming in fast on a bearing that would take it just north of their position.

"Holy Shit!"

Heero and Relena, who had both been considering a kiss, whipped their heads towards Duo's yell and saw what had provoked him.

It was kind of hard to miss, given the mile-long flame that trailed behind the metal object, which glowed-white hot with heat. But it was totally silent.

Suddenly, a giant sonic boom ripped across the open countryside, after which a high-pitched screaming and a deep throated roar assaulted their eardrums, every tone and pitch between barely audible and ultrasonic rolled into a single wave of sound.

Less than five seconds after Hilde first noticed it, the projectile angled down and struck pay-dirt about four miles to the north, throwing up a tidal wave of soil ahead of it. A second later, the deafening BA-DOOM of the impact could be heard and the ground beneath their feet shuddered with the impact.

The four teenagers could only stare in shock first at the crash site, then the mammoth silhouette of Soundwave lunging down the hill towards them.

Again, it was Hilde who was driving the Humvee, though given the shock that all were suffering, a blind-drunk Duo's driving would have been on-per with hers as the 4WD vehicle pelted down a ranger-track that bisected the pine trees of Mt. St. Hillary National Park towards the pillar of smoke that rose towards the heavens.

Relena was currently yelling at a small blue tape-recorder she was holding in her hand.

"This thing isn't natural Soundwave?"

Soundwave's monotone voice could barely be heard over the roaring engine and squealing tires.

"Negative...Ultrasonic, radar and sonar scans indicate object is composed of metals of non-terrestrial origin. Possible origin is Cybertronian."

Duo yelled over his shoulder from the passenger seat.

"Wait, I though Cybertron was destroyed."

"Correct, though it is reasonable to assume some Transformers survived whatever cataclysm destroyed our home-world."

Heero did not speak, waiting till they reached Ground Zero before he passed comment. Lazerbeak, who had scouted ahead suddenly appeared in the sky and landed on the Humvee's roll-bars. He squawked loudly and Soundwave translated.

"Lazerbeak confirms initial analysis."

Shaking her head Hilde shook her head as she threw the car round the final corner and down the hillside towards the crater.

"Just when we thought we had this whole alien shit sorted out, something else comes and screws everything up."

Surprisingly, they were not the first to reach the impact. Optimus Prime, Megatron, the Seekers and the Autobots Jazz and Trailbreaker had managed to cover the two miles in the time it took the teens to negotiate their way down the mountainside.

The two leaders and Starscream were currently clustered on one side of the quarter-mile diameter cleft in the ground. The contrail of the object was beginning to settle, draping a sickly grey blanket over the area, tinged with wood-smoke from the forest fire which had been quickly spreading before the Transformers had arrived.

The two Autobot soldiers were currently marking the perimeter, Jazz pulling down trees with a grappling hook his arm had sprouted to act as a fire break, while Trailbreaker tried to contain smaller fires with his force- field projector. Thundercracker and Skywarp were doing the same thing as Jazz, but using their sheer robotic strength rather than gadgets.

Megatron looked down at the Humvee as it pulled up beside his foot. Relena stepped out, holding Soundwave out in her hand, from which he quickly leapt and transformed into his blocky robotic self.

"Prime!" Duo yelled up, "what's the situation?"

Optimus Prime knelt down beside the humans.

"Perhaps you should see for yourselves."

He held out his hand and lifted them to a height where they could see down into the crater, where a bronze and tan robot lay, face-down in the Earth. Though he was of Transformer size, it was instantly obvious he was neither Autobot or Decepticon. Neither sigil could be seen on him, his the odd proportions of his body made him look decidedly alien.

Surprisingly, it was Heero who spoke first.

"What is he?"

Starscream shook his head.

"Currently, Primus knows."

To be Continued...

A/N:

Well, that's the Prologue and first chapter of Era of Change 2, brought out on July 4th as an Independence Day present for any American readers.

Some may be disappointed with the lack of action in this chapter; my idea was to showing the characters as believing that the war is over, before throwing Kranix into the mix.

I would like to hear your feedback on this, and rest assured the next chapter, 'The Islands of Lady Une' should be up soon. In the meantime, why not read my other Gundam Wing fic, 'Runaway Train', which envisions a world where the Gundam pilots lost the war and were imprisoned for life in an Alaskan prison. Though some have escaped, Heero, Duo and Zechs are still under the thumb of the sadistic warden Une, but if they have their way, not for long...

I'm sorry if these new chapters have been late in coming but for me it has been unavoidable. However, I have managed to write forty pages in three weeks so now that my exams are over I will soon be back up to speed, with a bit of luck.

See ya'.

PS. Many Transformer fans requested to see Galvatron and his forces in Era of Change. Rest assured, his appearance has always been part of the planned plot and he will make his debut in Chapter Three: Faustus.