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...

3. The Islands of Lady Une

CHAPTER 2. THE ISLANDS OF LADY UNE

A/N: Well, here we are. Chapter two is added. I hope you enjoy it. It's mostly Gundam stuff, but there are some snippets of what's going on with the Transformers, and at the end events take a drastic turn...for the worst. And the next chapter is only Transformers, so it all balances out!

Thanks to the following:

MICROWAVE JOCKEY: Glad that you like my work, and I hope you didn't mind that I used you in the introduction to this continuing saga. Thanks for the compliments by the way.

TARIQ: You're welcome, here's that update.

CYBLADE SILVER: I'm overjoyed that you enjoyed chapter one. Action is hard to write, but trying to write normal (well-semi normal) people in a normal situation (drunk in a bar) is harder. Looks like I succeeded.

BRAX: Cheers mate! Sorry that there's almost no Kranix in this chapter but I'm building up to it.

NEKO: Sorry if you're not a fan of long chapters, cos this one's longer than the last. And, its fantastic that you enjoyed the last chapter even if you're not a gigantic Gundam fan.

VINCENT KINNEAS: Glad you enjoyed Time of Change and good luck with your own work.

ANDREW: Your e-mails kept me laughing for ages, along with my brother. We both thank you for the comic relief ideas and I promise to write them up someday.

Thanks to everyone for contacting me or reviewing, and you're all welcome to e-mail me with questions, ideas, anything!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the trademarked/copyrighted characters, locations, machines or situations in the below work.

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ERA OF CHANGE II: CHAPTER II: THE ISLANDS OF LADY UNE.

With a barely audible ripple the waves parted before the blunt snout of the Genesis.

Making near to no headway she slid out of the cloying, encroaching fog, the placid grey waters lapping along her hull. The conning tower faded up like a a ghost out of the shroud. Gradually the hydroplanes and softly churning wash of the propellers passed before the walls of vapour closed back in again, fading away, a phantom in the mist.

"Dead slow ahead, maintain this course."

Howard turned away as a seaman rang the bridge telegraph, it's harsh bell the only sound in the cotton-wool void.

-------------------

Clad only in jeans and a sweat-soaked T-shirt that clinged to his body Duo stalked along the missile deck towards the conning tower. It wasn't the damp that bothered him. This fog seemed to sap the very life out of a person. It was downright creepy in fact.

Instead of the numbing cold that was expected, it had a sickly warmth, that gradually settled on his skin, which gradually began to sweat, further dampening him. Smelling slightly of sulphur it rose from the sea in swirls, bubbling and coiling up from the depths. The ocean itself was disturbingly flat, like a pond. No wind disturbed the surface, no current churned beneath. Around them, there was absolutely, nothing.

Nothing except this blasted fog!

Cursing his luck, he scrambled up the rungs to the conning tower. Howard grinned weakly at him.

"Weird ain't it."

"Yeah. Never seen anything like it."

"This area is very volcanically active. Undersea vents spew gasses, which rise to the surface. The coastal currents clash not far offshore as well, and that can cause some freaky weather. It's almost always foggy round here. That's where the island's name comes from. It's a Spanish dialect for "Cloud Island."

"Yeah, well I can't wait to get there. There's something unnatural about this."

"Not long to go now. Listen."

Howard spoke with the telegraph operator again.

"Reduce rotations to five knots, bring her around to course two-seven- zero."

Dimly, Duo could hear breaking surf.

-------------------------

The other Gundam pilots were gathered in the sub's rec room, busying themselves with whatever caught their fancy.

Heero was in the corner of the room engaged in physical gymnastics which seemed positively painful, sitting cross-legged and lifting himself up with his arms alone, before flipping himself upside-down into a one-handed handstand. Quatre was studying the Koran, murmuring to himself in Arabic.

To a casual observer, Wufei would have appeared to be napping at one of the desks, until his eyes opened slightly and he made a small mark on a piece of paper laid out in front of him with a soft pencil.

Trowa, unable to engage in his favourite pastimes of knife-throwing, acrobatics or lion taming, had elected to being Relena's tuition, starting with teaching her the basics of piloting Mobile Suits not fitted with the Zero's sensory control system.

To this end he had pulled together some of the spare parts from the Genesis' supplies during the voyage and assembled a reasonable cockpit simulator. It lacked display screens and the seat was just a plastic one from the mess, but it served its purpose well enough. Truth be told, Trowa thought Relena would be 'graduating' to an actual MS with very little instruction.

Hilde was standing behind Wufei's shoulder, admiring his drawing. Like every one of his sketches, it showed Altron - 'Nataku'-she reminded herself, in a power-pose, but the young Chinaman had managed to capture the sheer grace, power and nobility of the Gundam as it swept around, beam trident in hand, about to vanquish an enemy.

Any further thoughts were disrupted as Duo burst into the room wearing his usual expression - lunatic.

"You guys have got to come see this!"

---------------------

"Whoa!" Quatre breathed.

The Genesis was slowly drifting to a halt, her prow inching through the barrier of fog, which suddenly ended in a sheer wall, and ahead lay another.

Crashing waves broke onto sheer cliffs of rugged volcanic rock that emerged from the sea and swept up, seamlessly merging into foliage-draped mountainsides which continued on, their distant peaks lost in the cloud cover over the island. No fog drifted across the land-mass save for these areas, holding back to the ocean and surrounding it like a cage.

Even from a 1000 ft down the lush greenery was an impressive sight, rippling and undulating like a living blanket on the world. Animal cries drifted down from above, a never-ending medley of life.

It was a lush, jungle paradise marooned in the sea of fog, beautiful yet alien, terrifying and thrilling, sweeping right across the field of view, filling their world.

"It looks like Alcatraz," Trowa muttered.

"Forward on the port shaft, slow ahead on both when she comes around to three-zero-zero. You know the course from there."

----------------------------

About two miles north there was a cleft in the cliffs, a long narrow fjord. Slowly the helmsman eased the massive submarine's bow into the estuary and then the actual gorge. As she went she slipped past massive pilings strung across the bay, that looked like they might once have supported a roadway.

Hilde eyed the ruined bridge then Howard.

"What was this place?"

"It was a nature preserve of some-kind. Then it became a resort for the rich and idle. Now we use it as a hidden stash."

"Of what?"

"You'll see soon enough."

---------------------------

As the Genesis forced herself along the river, Heero reached one hand out from the missile deck and just managed to touch the red cliffs that bordered them. The stone crumbled away in his hand, like badly applied plaster.

Wufei ambled towards him and noticed the red fragments in Heero's palm. He considered the cliff that overhung them uneasily.

After about five minutes of this, they cliffs dwindled down and eventually fell back, and the sub was moving through the rainforest, towards a fully- equipped harbour. Wufei looked back towards the sea. Behind them the hills rose up to a horizon, beyond which was just grey sky.

"We're inside a volcano."

Duo looked at him, horrified as the Genesis butted up against the quayside.

"The cliffs around the island are the rim, and we're inside the crater."

"However, you not gonna suddenly fall into a lake of lava!"

Unnoticed, Une had stepped down the gangplank and onto the sub's deck.

"Welcome to Isla Nublar!"

------------------------------

Three red and silver Jeep Wranglers carrying Une, Heero, Duo, Trowa, Quatre, Wufei, Relena, Hilde and Howard sped along a tarmaced road that led away from the dock. Une's voice came over several speakers mounted inside each vehicle.

"The island's eight miles long and five miles wide at it's widest point. From space it looks like an inverted teardrop. Like Wufei said, it's an extinct volcano, though there's still a few active regions down in the south. We get our power from geothermal generators."

The three all-terrain vehicles tore around a corner, canting over on their suspensions. From the third, Quatre looked down at the valley to the left. What seemed to be the remains of massive cement constructs could be seen cutting across the jungle, dividing the island interior into several large sections.

"The Preventers purchased this island from the Central American Government two years ago. There was some controversy here around the twenty-first century so they were eager to offload it. Since then we've been fitting it up as a training and maintenance facility. We're not very far from several shipping lanes so we try to keep all operations within the outer rim."

Duo cocked an eyebrow at her from inside her car.

"What kind of operations?"

BA-DOOM!

Several large explosions went off to the south, sending tremors through the cars, which drove on. The blossoming fires were strung right across the visible width of the island, as if whoever planted the explosives was trying to blow off the southern half of Isla Nublar.

"Those kind of operations."

As the pilots watched with varying amounts of interest the driver chuckled to himself.

------------------------

"You put the left probe in, the left probe out. In, out. In, out, stir it all about. You run it through the scanner then you throw it in the trash. Then you go back to square one."

Wheeljack disposed of the amber liquid in the aforesaid manner, humming to himself. After four million years most of the experiments he had assembled in his lab before leaving Cybertron had gone...stale, and he had spent the past few days determining what could be saved and what could not.

That liquid was quickly joined in the skip that formed his rubbish bin with several energon cubes, their surface coated in a translucent, slightly putrid slime, a shelf of culture growth vats whose contents were threatening to break out and start their own ecosystem, numerous rusted pieces of machinery and several gallons of 'turned' chemicals.

When his lab had returned to the level of uncontrolled clutter that he defined as tidy, the bipedal muscle-car turned to the latest project Prime had assigned him.

"Right...I've got repair the weapon that's killed more than a few of my friends."

Wheeljack began laying out the tools of his trade. Along with the expected soldering iron, measuring device and cutting torch was a roll of scotch- tape, a two gallon drum of acid, a buzzsaw, a crowbar and a device that looked like it was designed for vocal-chord scrapings, amongst other...things.

Wheeljack hefted a sledgehammer over his head. Like Howard, he believed that when a broken machine refused to co-operated, you should hit it...hard. He rapped it against the cannon's casing as was rewarded with a resounding 'CLANG!'

"Should be fun."

Unnoticed behind him, the contents of the skip bubbled merrily as they fused into a fluorescent scarlet substance that cheerfully ate through the metal bottom and started fulfilling Jules Verne's dream of journeying to the centre of the Earth.

---------------------------------

There had been a moment of shock among some of the pilots when the three jeeps had driven straight into a giant waterfall, but that was soon averted when they emerged into the massive metal cavern on the other side. Relena was the first to comment.

"Very impressive Ann. Tell me...How much of this came out of the Preventers budget which I allocated last year."

Une's silence said enough.

"This was built thanks to a bit of dabbling in the stock market and an offshore bank account in the Cayman Islands."

Heads turned towards the new voice.

"This is Preventer Quatorze - Lon Serman. He's our chief mechanic."

Serman was a well-groomed young man with dark hair and a pair of frameless glasses which did quite a bit for his already handsome face. He grinned insubordinately at Une before introducing himself to the pilots, and elegantly kissing Relena's hand. This provoked a great deal of blushing by Relena, some giggles, one comment about "stupid estrogen-addled woman", and a death glare from Heero that would have fried Prime's circuits.

Serman turned round, looked at Heero, then Relena, realised his mistake, and blushed in turn. What followed was the most unlikely reaction ever.

Heero laughed loudly, then shook Serman's hand.

"Heero Yuy."

"Yes, I know. You're a bit of a legend Mr. Yuy...Only a few people I know of can match your skill with a MS."

Introductions complete, Serman looked around at the dumbfounded pilots.

"Well...I guess these people are here for their Gundams. This way Ladies and Gentlemen."

------------------------------

The underground complex seemed to run in all directions, an endless labyrinth of tunnels, store-rooms and combat simulators.

"We're directly under the island's highest mountain. The base is a completely contained facility, though we do have to ship in food supplies every two weeks. Living quarters are on the surface, and below we have numerous training facilities."

As Une led, they passed a large door with a rather foreboding message.

MUNITIONS STORAGE – NO NAKED FLAMES OR STEEL-TOED BOOTS.

-----------------------------------

Eventually the nine entered a vast, empty space. Darkness fell on them like hounds after the fox, clinging, embracing, enshrouding. A cool draft blew from the depths of the unseen room and the pilots shivered slightly. Thinking, Trowa whistled, and the sound echoed back about three seconds later. Whatever it was, this room was HUGE.

Barely visible, Une nodded at Serman, who walked to a bank of switches on the wall behind them and started throwing them.

Straight ahead of them and about half a kilometre away the far end of the room was lit up by a bank of sodium lights. With each circuit Serman closed, a new set burned brilliantly into life, each coming nearer.

Even from far away, the pilots could see black outlines being illuminated by the lights and tensed. Only one machine humanity had ever built stood on two legs.

Someone breathed quietly in mixed shock and exhilaration. Heero's eyes began to brighten up as the light approached nearer. Duo licked his lips in anticipation. Wufei's hands clenched.

Relena however, was staring to the left of the pilots, staring up. As she gradually became visible, the pilots noticed her and followed her line of sight.

Directly beside them the dark was slightly denser than elsewhere. The distant lights gradually marched towards them, and a faint outline could be seen. There was something familiar about this shape, yet something...new, unfamiliar. Quatre blinked.

"No."

Une walked in front of them, only her silhouette visible against the steadily nearing light, now only three hundred yards away. Lon reached the final switch on the wall, and stopped, smiling.

Une cleared her throat, a faint gleam of white indicating smiling teeth.

"Preventers, I give you..."

Serman flicked the switch, and the dark was instantly burned away. The pilots, blinded looked away as Une beamed, a harsh corona lighting her profile. As the burning glare faded from their sight, the six teens looked up, and gasped.

"...Gundam."

Gundam, so simple a word, yet with such hidden meaning. Fear, elegance and power. Yet it could never come close to carrying the presence and power of the ten mechanical gods that stood at attention against the left wall. Beyond, ranks of other mecha lined to the horizon. Leos, Aires, Taurus, three versions of the Virgo and Serpents were all on parade, each proudly stamped with the Preventers P.

Despite their power however, these lesser machines were dwarfed and humbled by the first ten. They stood tall and proud, their lines instantly recognisable. Heero stepped out and lightly touched the red heel of the first. Serman stepped forward.

"May I?"

Une nodded, and Serman stepped forward with the confidence and poise of a grand orator.

---------------------------

"Wing Zero, Custom."

The Zero had...changed. Dramatically. No longer blocky and slightly squat, the V-fin on it's brow seemed to scrape the ceiling. The machine stood at ease, yet seemed ready for a fight, legs spread, hands bunched into fists. Light burned through the zero casing on the chest and cast a green veil on the onlookers. The blue around it and on the shoulders was buffed to a high finish along with the gold lining on the rims and air intakes. The waist and the armour plates below were decked out in red and scarlet. They noticed with some interest that the long, slender legs were plated with yellow and black Kevlar along with the standard white Gundanium. On the shoulders were the two machine cannons, the royal head rising between them.

Oddly, no shield was carried, and the Twin Buster rifle was slung along the back of the Gundam, it's tapered butt rising behind the head. Mounted in the shoulders were the two wing vulcans. Fitting into recessed holsters in the hips were the twin handles of beam swords, their power cables neatly linked to the reactor. The armament was virtually unchanged, yet seemed more potent.

Then the onlookers turned their eyes onto the most distinctive change to Zero. The large (and some would say, ungainly) Vernier backpacks had been replaced with two new units., which were bracketed onto the shoulder blades. Though longer than the old backpacks (they hung almost to the mobile suit's ankle) they were thinner, giving a machine a sleeker feel that matched it's speed and power. The frames that bracketed the engines were gold, the panels they held grey and blue. Stamped along the central panel in darker grey was the proud name WING ZERO.

The same gold Kevlar had been used on parts of the engines and to further enhance the amour, the thick, blocky material adding a sporty feel to Wing Zero, which was now truly the king of Gundams.

Serman smiled with pride and affection at what he had built. Heero ran a finger along line of the heel, checking for dust. It came up spotless. Heero turned and grinned faintly at Serman.

"You like?"

"Very much. The Kevlar's a nice touch."

--------------------------

Smiling Lon turned and walked on. Like sheep, the others dumbly followed. Serman stopped beneath the next and held his hand up to a machine that seemed to absorb all light.

It was painted in black, gold and white, a ghostlike entity with some features picked out in vivid red. On each arm was a scarlet shield with a razor-sharp drill bit protruding from a gold claw mechanism. From it's back rose two slender wings, raking upwards before they summitted in pointed tips. In the right hand it held the extended staff of the beam scythe.

The head was bone white, contrasting starkly with the black body. Either side of the mouthplate were air intakes, their gold blades looking like vicious teeth. Bracketed to the wings and framing the head were the two Hyper Jammers, the Deathscythe's legendary stealth projector.

In terms of decoration, it was simple, yet effective. Every edge was razor- sharp, almost everything on the Gundam was pointed and that which wasn't was as elegantly curved yet as lethal as the blade of a knife. It was a deathly, fearsome machine. It was magnificent.

"Deathscythe Omega, a worthy steed for the God of Death."

Duo's mouth hung so low you could have sworn he was about to salivate. Beside him Hilde slapped his face and he snapped his trap shut.

---------------------------

Trowa's visible eye glinted as it fell on the next Gundam. Serman's tone was lower, reverential.

"The fourth and greatest of the Heavyarms, the Blitz."

Heavyarms Blitz was a delicious sight. In it's left hand it held a double Gatling Gun. What appeared to be two large beam sabres were slung on it's hips and the chest obviously harboured deadly secrets like it's forefathers. The short, stubby barrels of the vulcans sat on top of the torso.

The observers noticed two things before this however. First, the shoulders were bulkier than before, obviously storing the Heavyarms' infamous arsenal of homing missiles. This seemed supplemented by further micro missiles in the legs.

Before all this however, you saw IT. Rising straight up behind the head was the biggest cannon in existence, longer than the Gundam was tall. It was clearly an eight-barrelled Gatling gun which when in use could pivot under either shoulder to be grabbed by a free hand. Either side of the gun was a shrunken down Vayeate generator, each linking to the back of the weapon by a long conduit that resembled the magazine of a mounted machine gun.

Finally an army knife was tucked into each arm, short, but effective.

The whole machine was painted a dark blue, with thin green striping adding a bit of colour. The V-fin was the traditional gold of the Gundams. The Gatlings were light grey, blue and black.

Trowa nodded in approval, and Lon smiled at the warm praise, before turning to Quatre.

---------------------------

"Master Winner, I hope this can serve as some repayment for all the aid you have given both Earth and the colonies by your generous charitable donations."

Dramatically he waved at the new Sandrock. It was now truly a machine of the desert. Most of the machine (legs, shoulders, arms) was arrayed in gleaming silver with thick bands of grey lining the edges. Pure gold was scattered over the bodywork in trace amounts. Above it's head a high plume rose, and it's shoulder armour was the same feathered variety it had briefly worn in Brussels. It was beautiful, shining, but as incandescent as a mirage.

From the holsters on its back curved its signature heat shotels; long refined and wicked. They seemed slightly larger and more durable than before. On each hip was a medium-sized rifle, and riding on the forearms were what appeared to be a pair of crushing mandibles.

The Sandrocks had always been the strongest of the Gundams, and the chunky arms of this version seemed to bulge with mechanical muscle. However, where the previous incarnations had gained this at expense of speed, this one seemed sleek, graceful and powerful. It was a Mobile Suit fit for a prince.

"The Scarab."

Quatre's eyes swelled as he looked on his beloved machine, and he turned to Serman with tears in his eyes.

"This is more than enough payment Mr. Serman. I owe YOU."

-----------------------

Touched and gratified, Lon walked onto the next machine. Wufei, arrogance slightly tempered by awe and anticipation looked on Altron with relief.

"Nataku, he hasn't maimed you."

Puzzled and slightly amused, Serman scratched the back of his head.

"So he's a she? Well, like a woman, careful work and a sympathetic hand can take an body that is already magnificent to the brink of perfection."

Wufei seemed surprised that anyone could respect his mecha as much as him. Bowing, Serman stepped back and allowed Wufei to inspect the Altron.

Altron seemed the least changed of the Gundams. As all versions of this design, the chest-plate curved elegantly over the slatted cockpit hatch. On each arm were the two Dragon-Fangs, but they had changed. Serman pointed them out and explained.

"The last set of Dragon-Fangs were only really suited for space. They were too heavy on maintenance if operating on Earth, so we took the design almost back to basics and then put them on a sugar-high."

The new Dragon-Fangs were larger and bulkier, adding mass and prescience to the lightest Gundam. They were folded back on themselves so that the two vernier engines mounted on each weapon's rear faced downwards. The actual Dragon-heads were elegantly styled. Two emerald optics rested either side of a long snout that opened up to reveal spiked teeth. The tapered snouts were set between the linkages of a collapsing hydraulic mechanism that when unfolded, would hold the Dragon-head level with the Gundam's face and then propel it forward with devastating force, aided by the Verniers.

Two short bronze flamethrowers jutted either side of the hand, each connected to piping which linked up with the elbow mechanism. Either side of the decorative collar around the base of the head was a small beam cannon on a pivoted extendable support. In it's hand was the collapsed strut of the beam trident and like the Deathscythe, elegantly raked wings extended from it's back. Unlike the Deathscythe however, the lower edge of these wings were lined with thin exhaust ports.

The machine looked fresh and potent in it's two-tone green and white colour scheme, a scaled dragon poised to strike.

Wufei turned to Serman, who seemed about to quail under his fierce expression.

"What have you named her?"

"The engineers wanted to call it Alto-long. I had other thoughts."

"Such as?"

"Count the weapons. Four flamethrowers, two fangs, two cannons and the trident. A dragon with nine weapons. I call her the Hydra."

Still serious faced, Wufei regarded the machine. Serman shook his head and turned away. Wufei yelled back over his shoulder, grinning.

"Good choice!"

---------------------------

Serman halted, smiled to himself, then walked on.

"Other than the modifications to Wing, all of the other upgrades were designed by Howard and Chris Latta. This Gundam though, was my own piece of work, and I'm rather fond of it."

Heero looked up.

"Wing."

Wing Gundam, Heero's original mecha, was often disregarded as an inferior downgrade of the Wing Zero, like the Leo was a downgrade of the Tallgeese. That crude statement however, could no longer be applied to the behemoth that rose before them.

Wing's head and body were now admittedly identical to Wing Zero, and the colour scheme of red, blue gold and white was also shared, but the body only matched the Zero's in shape. The torso used mainly navy, with extensive red. The shoulder armour was three layered, red, blue and a virgin white on top. Likewise the legs were shining white, along with most of the head with the exception of blue slats and red decoration around the optics.

Swooping back from it's shoulders were two long flat wings, the red, blue and white panels almost translucent, the gold framing burning under the lights. Unlike the neat fighter-style wings of Altron and Deathscythe, or the sleek engine packs of Wing Zero, these looked like they were meant to fly. It seemed that if Wing flapped them, it would lift into the air.

Covering the right arm was a red and white shield, traditionally shaped like an aircraft's nose and cockpit.

Held in the right had was the Buster Rifle, still less powerful than Zero's but now boasting its own reactor, unlike before. The weapon was steel grey with red trim, and a pair of spiked blue manifolds extended back from the aft of the two targeting cameras.

The traditional beam sabres, machine cannons and vulcan guns could also be seen affixed to the Gundam.

It was a bright, Technicolored machine, but it wasn't garish. The predominant use of white and the gigantic wings gave it a pure, angelic feel. By far, it was the most visually appealing of the Gundams after Sandrock, and gave off an aura of power and speed.

Wing had finally come into it's own.

Almost tearful, Serman stroked the hull of his creation. Heero sneaked a sideways glance at him.

"Who's the pilot?"

"There was no pilot until a week ago, but we wanted as many combat ready suits as possible, so we went to the effort of fixing it up."

Heero began to realise what was being implied.

"Then Une said we needed Gundams for several promising pilots. When I heard most were female, I decided Wing here was perfect for one of them."

"Zero system?"

"Installed, but currently locked out. I have the key required to activate it."

Heero turned, nodding in approval. The other pilots were all scrambling over their Gundams, checking out their new abilities. Une was watching them with pride evident in her face. Hilde and Relena however, stood aside, chatting. Heero motioned them over and the two girls stared up at the imposing Mobile Suit."

"Relena. This is for you."

Despite the hubbub, those words carried as far as Deathscythe. Four heads leaned out of their cockpits and stared. Relena, overwhelmed, stepped towards Wing and touched it's foot.

"Me...But..."

"Wing's a good suit for a beginner. It's ideal for you."

Relena looked up at her new command, and smiled in shock and awe.

"Oh, my, God!"

Serman was watching this moment in amusement, before feeling a hand tap him on the back. Duo was not beaming as would be expected. He looked on the verge of mutiny.

"How come Relena gets a Gundam but Hilde doesn't?"

Under attack, Lon looked towards Une for support, but she was fifty feet away and out of earshot. Help came from an unexpected source.

Hilde stomped up to Duo and crossed her arms.

"Duo, do you think I'm gonna be piloting anything with my head like this."

She gestured towards the freshly changed bandages on her head. Duo grinned abashedly.

"No...I just..."

Hilde grinned mischievously.

"Anyway, I've got my sights set on Deathscythe. As soon as these things are off, you better start hiding the keys."

Duo's brain reeled for a second before Serman cleared his throat loudly.

"Actually, provision has been made for Ms. Schbeiker to pilot a Gundam."

The couple, already bickering like they were married, halted and stared at Lon, who waved to the final four machines, which were faintly familiar, yet radically different.

------------------------------

The first was tall and proud, arrayed in gleaming mail of navy and white. The legs were thick and muscular, the torso broad and strong. On the left of the two gauntleted arms was a mighty beam cannon, and the right held a sturdy shield, the curving tip of a heat rod protruding through. A pair of beam swords were slung to the hips.

It was hard to say, but the styling was...familiar. It broadly resembled a Leo, but there were aspects of each Gundam that could be seen in it, notably the ZERO System casing on the chest.

The head however, gave away the mecha's identity. A smooth curving face- plate was held beneath two blue optics, and a curving red crest swept over the brow, the four prongs of a V-fin meeting underneath.

Sleek, strong and powerful; there was nothing dated about this machine, but it seemed...venerable, an older knight among the more youthful Gundams, but one with a sharp sword and fire in his veins. Serman looked up at it with pride and slight humility.

"It has been a true honour to work on the true grandfather of all Gundams and Military MS. This was built from the original blueprint...of the first ever Gundam."

The young pilots could only stand and be awed by the new machine, chronologically the fourth in this class but actually the first. Duo's mouth hung open.

"You're giving Hilde the Tallgeese!"

Serman stared at him as if he had grown an extra head.

"What! Good Lord no, this little toy is reserved for Zechs. Not that he knows it yet...No, Hilde's machine is right along here..."

Lon walked into the space between two nearly identical machines that stood just along from Tallgeese and rapped on the foot.

"I give you, the Gundams Whiteflight and Darkflight."

In terms of bodywork these machines were twins, and like the new Tallgeese there was something broadly familiar about them, perhaps the armour on the arms and shoulders, and the two large air-vents that pointed down either side of the waist.

"Serman," Trowa quizzed, "are you building Gundams by knocking together Taurus, Vayeate and Mercuirus parts?"

Lon looked briefly insulted by Trowa's audacity.

"No, though I guess it looks like that...These machines are actually built from the blueprint which the Taurus and Gemini suits were later derived from. The scientists came up with this at the same time as the Tallgeese. Not bad is it?"

-------------------------

Not bad. The two suits looked brilliant. From the waist down they resembled the Gundams, though the legs seemed slightly more slender. The waist section was fitted with manoeuvring rockets like the Tallgeese and above was a torso somewhere in between the Tallgeese and Gemini suits, though they distinctly did NOT have the ZERO system installed. Instead of the faceless 'heads' of the generic Taurus they were fitted with slightly different head units, each with a proper Mohawk sensor above the V-Fin instead of the Tallgeese's Romanesque crest.

The mechanism that supported the arms was identical to the standard Taurus, a giant roller-ball assembly, but it was then when you began to notice the differences between the two machines.

As suggested by it's name, the Whiteflight was done up in similar colours to those of the Tallgeese; overall white and blue but with touches of the red and purple of the Sanc Kingdom. Slung to its back were a pair of engine manifolds and a large beam cannon resting in-between, like the Blitz a pivoting weapon.. Two beam sabres were racked in the shoulders and mounted to its left arm was a heat-rod shield.

It seemed to have sacrificed most of the Taurus's spiked armour in turn for a more utilitarian design, but one which brought out it's striking lines dramatically. The head, like the body, was overall white, with blue edging on the air intakes that framed the face. Above the eyes was a four-bladed V- fin and a blue Mohawk sensor. It was a startlingly attractive machine.

"We whipped this up for Noin, and then styled the weapons systems after the Tallgeese because of with its pilot."

It was easy to grab what Lon was implying, and when you compared the Whiteflight with the Tallgeese, they did look good together, almost a family resemblance given their broadly similar colourings, weapons and styling.

"We did something similar with this machine, which is Hilde's."

Darkflight just as imposing that the elegant Whiteflight, though in a radically different manner, appearing smaller, lighter and swifter. It was painted in matt black, with a small amount of red and blue detailing. The shoulder armour still retained the Taurus's elegant upward sweep and cruelly sharp tip and like the Deathscythe, the remainder of the body armour was sharp, jutting.

The weapons sytems were also different to Whiteflight, dropping the beam cannon for a pair of hyper-jammers. In its hand was a long staff and it carried a Buster Shield just like Duo's machine. On each arm was a flamethrower set-up like the Hydra's.

The head was similar to the Whiteflight's, but had an elegant pattern around the frame like the Deathscythe Hell's. The lens on the Mohawk sensor was red instead of green, and the camera swept back to a sharp point. The engines on its back seemed longer and flatter as well, giving it a swift, demonic appearance.

Hilde was overwhelmed.

"This is for me?"

Serman nodded slightly as she looked up at her new ride with silent joy. Duo was a bit more...verbal in his response.

"WHO-HOO! The God of Death and his Angel are going for a ride!

He wrapped her into an embrace and Lon looked away embarrassed as they whispered sweet nothings to each other, instead focusing on the other pilots who were gathered around the feet of the last, and perhaps the most formidable of the new Gundams. It was Heero who was the first to speak.

"What the hell is this?"

-------------------------

'This', was a charcoal and navy Gundam standing just as high as Wing Zero, and looking almost as demonic as the Deathscythe and Darkflight. It's 'face' seemed sleek and sharp, almost evil, and the V-fin upon its brow was as jagged as a fork of lightening. The substantial armour was elegantly curved, yet razor-edged. The array of hatches and vents on the torso almost resembled a face, that of a wrathful demon outcast from Pandemonium.

Sweeping from the back, were a pair of curved engines, massive exhausts almost brushing the floor.

It was very similar to a machine all present remembered, but there were differences. The legs were sleek, but not over-armoured. There was no beam- sword carried at it's side. No giant shield rested on the right arm, though the heat-rod remained, a twin tucked into the left arm. Noticeably, the green sphere of the Emotion Process Yield & Omission Neural System was absent.

The shoulders now housed a pair of small calibre guns, and thin, spiked wands extended from each shoulder and forarm, making a total of eight.

However, what they were looking at, was still a striking reproduction of the Gundam Epyon, despite the different colouring and weaponry. Navy blue covered the chest and face, with ash and charcoal grey detailing the remainder. As on the Epyon, the slatted air intakes were coloured in yellow.

Serman was slightly hesitant to approach this machine, as if intimidated by it, but few could not be.

"This, is not the Epyon, though it's very similar. This is it's twin, it's sister. This, is the Zenith."

Wufei was admiring the suit, clearly the weapon of a skilled warrior. As the other pilots questioned Serman, he hazarded a guess and turned round, raising his voice just loud enough to be heard.

"Trieze built this didn't he. He intended to fight in it."

Heero, Trowa, Quatre and Relena shifted their eyes to Wufei, then back to Serman. Hilde and Duo had eventually finished 'necking' and had joined them in admiring the Zenith. Lon nodded at Wufei.

"Yes. Just like the Epyon and the Tallgeese's 2 & 3, the Zenith was built as part of General Kushrenada's Excalibur Directive. It was meant to work as a team with the Epyon as a counter MD force, hence the spines."

"Pardon."

"The eight spines on the arms and shoulders; they project a counter minovsky field that nullifies planet defensor shields and can also project a beam shield."

Heero was staring up at the Zenith.

"Treize was playing us like pawns all along. He told me he didn't feel worthy of piloting his 'God' Epyon, but was just waiting until this Zenith was finished for him to pilot."

Everyone just stood for a few seconds, drinking in the magnificent aura of the Zenith and the other Gundams, wondering for a second how drastically different history could have been with or without these weapons.

------------------------

Lon was strolling back along the ranks, enjoying watching the pilots scrambling over their new toys. Trowa fell into step with him.

"Are you the Lon Serman of MO-V?"

"Yeah, but I only lived there for a year before being transferred here by Preventers HQ."

"But you did help build the PJ Engine while you were there?"

"I was part of a team, and we were building on the work of another, but yes, I did help bring the Plasma Jet Engine into the world. I also fitted Wing Zero, Wing, Tallgeese, Zenith and the two Flights with various versions of it."

"Fast, light and non-polluting – quite a development."

As they turned around by Wing Zero and began walking back towards the Zenith Trowa finally brought the conversation round to his way of thinking.

"These are some pretty impressive modifications you've come up with. It's surprising that such a 'green' engineer could be so creative."

Serman, eyeing Trowa silently, nodded for him to continue. The acrobatic youth paused, as if choosing his words like diamonds.

"When I was infiltrating the Barton Foundation, I overheard Dekim mentioning Quinze trying to obtain powerful MS in the last days of the war...MS that could turn the tide of the war...MS from MO-V..."

He left the obvious question hanging. Smirking, Lon answered cryptically.

"Once again, I've built on the work of some good friends, who have given me their whole-hearted approval."

Trowa stopped to mull over this information as Serman walked on, before being halted by Hilde, who seemed overjoyed.

"How's Darkflight suit you?"

"Perfect. It's like having my own Deathscythe."

"Pretty much, but it can do some things that Duo's machine can't do."

"Such as?"

"Well it's got flamethrowers, and an anti-MD system like the Zenith. Plus it's faster."

Hilde looked up in anticipation at the impressive Darkflight before looking back at Serman with a slight smirk.

"So, tell me, Mr Serman? Why does Heavyarms have caterpillar tracks arround the edge of it's shoulders? Just an observation, but Sandrock also seems to have tyres either side of its head."

This part of the conversation had not passed unnoticed. The other pilots looked to Serman for an explanation. Only Une seemed unsurprised. He grinned.

"Pop quiz kids. Who was the first actor to speak in a motion picture?"

Duo stuck his hand up.

"Al Jolson, in the Jazz Singer."

Serman was now toying with a device that resembled a detonator.

"Correct, and those first words were?"

"You ain't seen nothing yet."

"You said it."

Serman depressed the button on the remote and a mechanical sound the Prevnters were now very familiar with resonated through the cavernous underground hanger.

The sound of Transformation.

Slowly, they turned around and reacted in mixed ways. Quatre stared, Trowa and Heero blinked. Wufei and Relena wore masks of disbelief, while Hilde looked smug.

Duo's face slowly split into its usual manic grin.

"Oh, yeah!"

--------------------------

Evening had come to Mt. St. Hillary, and Wheeljack's hours of work on the fusion cannon had amounted to very little. Though he had taken most of the weapon to pieces the central unit, which housed the elusive power-supply, refused to be cracked.

Frustrated, Wheeljack pounded the offending weapon with his sledgehammer repeatedly, with no effect. After venting his fury on the unyielding device, he finally turned back to the notes he had composed throughout the afternoon.

Date: Feb 17th AC199.

Project#: 1340928

Subject: Weapon repair, Fusion Cannon.

Initial Notes:

Discussion with Megatron has prompted me to believe the Fusion Cannon is simply what it says it is, a micro particle accelerator which generates high-speed collisions between particles travelling in opposite directions, causing nuclear fusion and the release of massive amounts of energy. Said particles are admitted through the cannon rear via what I assume to be an electromagnetic containment field and are accelerated in arcs within the main body. It is reasonable to assume as well that a sub-space portal is contained in the main body to allow the containment and discharge of anti- matter. However, my own fusion weapons have required generators the size of buildings to power them. Concordantly, I eagerly await discovering what power source resides within the cannon.

Chronology:

13:10 – Work commences with the measuring and analysis of the cannon.

13.43 – From the barrel I remove 4 Deritek XY-2 Radiation converters, which I assume convert the harmful gamma radiation into energon, which is then used to supplement the on-board computer's power supply. Very efficient. The actual barrel is shorn off, with only the XY-2s remaining due to their high heat tolerances.

14.56 – After 1 Earth hour's effort I am able to remove the electromagnets from the aft molecular intake, and set them aside for later study. The intake housing is damaged Durasteel, easily cut through and removed.

15.23 – Analysis of central cannon unit suggests gaining access to the internals will be simple. The outer Durasteel armour is heavily cracked.

15.32 – True to my guess, the armour is removed with little effort. Internally I am able to remove the subspace harmonics package with little difficulty. This is attached to a unit about the size (proportionally) and shape of the ball used in the Earth sport 'American Football'. At the aft end is an intake for the molecules, and a thick band runs around the device's equator.

17.45 – After careful work, I am able to locate and remove the particle accelerator unit. It is in the large equatorial metal hoop and fits easily over my forearm like a giant bracelet. On the forward edge is a number of small holes, I assume for the venting of fusion energy. On the underside are a series of power conduits which connect to the football-core.

NOTE: Unlike the remainder of the cannon, which is extremely damaged, the core unit is in pristine order.

19.15 – Frustratingly, the core unit is constructed of a material virtually identical to the human element Adamantium; supposedly indestructible once set. All of my cutting tools have been ineffective in opening it.

Wheeljack picked up the core unit and tossed it in his hand. Whoever had built this thing must have intended for it to be opened some point in the future; but how?

The only clue he had so-far was a seam down the centre of the device, directly under where the accelerator sat; presumably this should be where it came apart, but everything from pry-bars to magnetic clamps had failed in opening it. At either end of the unit were five tiny data-ports, the exact size required to accept a Transformer's fingers. Obviously Wheeljack had stuck his hands in these ports like a infant human with a wall-socket and like that same infant had received an electric shock for it.

'Perhaps I'm going about this wrong...'

Still tossing the unit like he was going to throw it Wheeljack began pacing around his lab.

'Firstly, who built this cannon? Not the Decepticons, records show it was used before the factions were formed.

Secondly, why Adamantium? It's notoriously hard to manipulate and there's no record of it being used by either Transformer faction with the exception of one item and Prime always carries that around in his chest...'

Wheeljack stalled mid-thought and slapped himself in the head.

"Bugger me with a fish-fork!"

Realization dawning on him Wheeljack quickly opened the door and ran down the corridor as fast as he could.

"I've got to find Megatron."

----------------------------

"How's our visitor?"

Ratchet looked up from his equipment.

"Stable Prime, but really weird."

"Define weird."

"Weird like I can't figure who the inferno he is or where he's from."

The Autobot commander cocked his optic rim. Ratchet motioned him over to his terminal. He pointed at a read-out.

"Right - he's giving off a signature energy wave, but it doesn't match Autobot or Decepticon frequencies. Secondly...here..."

Prime put his optic to the microscope Ratchet motioned towards.

"This is a sample of his armour. Normal right? Except that is a totally different material to anything on our planet or this. He's not a cybertronian. And when we switch the microscope to electron mode...Everything goes white."

Prime looked at his medic in shock...

"He's irradiated."

"Was...given the rate of electron degeneration I'd say somewhere less than a vorn ago, but whatever it was, it was big."

"A battle."

"Could be, but it would have had to have been a shitstorm of a war. We're talking more power than the total Autobot and Decepticon armaments...cubed."

-------------------------------

When the Preventers had purchased Isla Nublar from the Central American government several years ago, a second 'property' was included in the land package.

'Property' defined an island chain about eighty miles south-southwest of Nublar, known to the locals as 'Las Cinco Muertes'.

The Five Deaths; tied to a legend akin to the labours of Hercules, of a brave warrior who was offered the choice of five means of execution, and elected to take them all; one on each island. Crushing, drowning, burning, beheading and suffocation.

Like Nublar, each of the deaths were volcanically active, but seen from the air, it was easy to tell that each had once been part of the rim of a much larger volcano, one which had all but disappeared beneath the Pacific's waters.

Islas Pena, Matanceros, Tacano, Muerta and Sorna. All names of death and destruction.

Fitting really.

Of the five, Sorna was the largest, situated halfway along the run where the chain swung from south-east to north-east. The entire coast of the island was either lined with cliffs or the long arcs of sandy beaches, and inland the terrain either collapsed into the 'sink' of the large lagoon known as the Ondo Channel, or rose up into large mountains. Narrow, high ridges ran across the island, decorated with foreboding names such as 'Crest of the Fallen', once the edges of craters. Heavy rainforest blanketed the hills, with wide open grasslands on the lower reaches and hardy conifers on the slopes of the principle mountains, the San Fernandos.

Seventeen miles across at it's widest point and sixteen miles from the northern tip of Trinidad Point to the coast in the south, it was nearly one hundred and ninety square miles of overgrown rainforest, open grasslands and mountainous valleys.

For the uses of the Preventers, Sorna and its sisters were perfect.

-----------------------------

The only point where the island terrain gradually sloped down to the ocean was on the southwest, where a long, narrow meadow separated the foliaged hills from the edge of a small estuary, the many tiny streams that fed into the pool making this a favoured watering-hole with the island wildlife. Bisecting the field was a rutted track that struck out to the north and curved around the coast out of sight. Not far inland from this track the trees rose up again, their thick canopy casting the jungle into darkness despite the blazing sunlight of the early evening.

Birds chirped in the trees, and twisted animal cries echoed among severed stumps, darkened hillocks and sudden gullies. The air was moist, heavy with moisture and the smell of nature. Primal, secret, hidden. A Lost World forgotten by man and time.

There was a sudden crash and a shrill scream as a small figure fell from one of the higher branches. The tiny monkey landed unharmed on the ground, and looked around, judging it's safety.

All clear...Suddenly the monkey's ears pricked up, and it hunched defensively, whipping it's head back and forth, sniffing for danger through it's large nostrils.

In the darkness, something moved. Rays of light that played through the foliage shone on dappled skin, a predator hiding just outside of this tiny clearing. The monkey, intimidated made moves to leave.

An animal growl was heard, a low and threatening purr. Leaves rustled as they were shoved aside by something large, nearer with a calm and deadly steadiness. The monkey's keen eyes soon spotted its stalker, barely visible through shrouding boughs. Trying to frighten its pursuer, the monkey hissed like a snake, flinging its mouth open and bearing sharp teeth.

It was a stalemate, predator and prey facing each other off...or so the monkey though.

Something moved, and the real prey was revealed. In the open field beyond the treeline a swift something darted across the grass with the speed of a gazelle, swift and near-silent.

The predator roared, and the monkey was suddenly terror-struck by the beast that burst out of the trees towards it. Two blazing eyes full of deadly malice sped towards it, and the tiny mammal shrieked and ran for its life as the dinosaur thundered past it and towards the open terrain.

-------------------------------

Trees exploded outward as the alien beast smashed out of darkness and into light. Sunlight made a dazzling display on its hide of metal, and caterpillar tracks ground into the dirt with brutal power.

The All-Terrain tank rode over a hillock, scattering animals and birds, the roar of it's engine challenging the silver and grey vehicle it powered after, skidding and sliding along the game-trail.

Despite it's size, the dark-green tank soon drew near to the armoured attack truck at nearly 60mph. As it came level the fearsome tri-cannon armament could be seen, surely enough to strike terror into whoever drove the eight-wheeled transport carrier it raced.

Not so. With a chuckle of laughter the carrier's pilot downshifted and took a position behind the tank, serving around and up the other-side, pulling fast ahead. Behind, the tank roared and struggled to gain ground.

-------------------

It soon had its chance. Shortly, the game trail began to slope upwards, climbing above the plains on the shoulder of a thin but high-ridge that rose above them. As the gradient increased, the mighty 8WD carrier began to fall behind, while the tank's All-Terrain caterpillar treads pushed it higher, faster and further.

The track struck out for a narrow pass into the actual island, where the ridge almost met the southern point of the San Fernandos, the only actual mountain range on the island. In between was a tiny cleft that was measured in terms of meters rather than kilometres. Neck and neck, the two machines skidded west into the gully, struggled up the final ascent, and halted on the crest of the pass. With a final rumble, the engines ceased and silence fell, gradually replaced by the hiss of hot metal cooling and contracting.

----------------------

With a pneumatic click, the crash-bars on the front of the carrier split apart, exposing a red cockpit hatch behind them which in turn, collapsed and ejected a single human. Meanwhile, a second figure had dropped out of an access hatch on the tank's underside.

Quatre and Trowa high-fived each-other, each flushed and panting from the exhilaration of the chase. Bending over, hands to knees to catch his breath, Quatre grinned up at Trowa.

"Nice ambush."

Trowa nodded slightly, smiling faintly.

"Nice driving."

He gestured around them.

"Even nicer view."

As Quatre recovered, he was finally able to take in their surroundings. Behind them the ground dropped off into the valley and estuary they had just negotiated; across the narrow, turbulent waters was the bottom end of the San Ferandos and a plateau that jutted out of the forested mountainsides, overhanging the ocean far below. Rugged, dramatic; but not exactly beautiful.

Ahead of them however, directly west, was something different. On their left was the opposite side of the ridge, which headed south and then bend west for about four miles, before cutting north again, right across their line of sight. To their right were the San Fernados, and between them the two pieces of high ground enclosed a wide, grassy valley, which sloped gently away from the pass towards the bent-back ridge.

About two miles before reaching it however, the land dropped off sharply into a wide, deep valley which ran parallel to the ridge and then cut through it, the only way out of this enclosed section of Sorna besides the pass they stood on. Over the top of the shallow ridge they could see the waters of the Ondo Channel, shining in the pre-dusk light as the sun gradually dipped towards the western horizon.

It could have been pastoral, were it not for the heavy trees that clung to the area around the valley, ranging from mahogany to redwood, pine to oak. Large birds perched around the stream through the valley, squawking to each other with loud alien cries. There was not a single sign of human influence.

The net result was magnificent and terrible, inspiring yet frightening. And very, very beautiful. The two just stood there for a second, feeling like intruders to a secret place, an island paradise. Perhaps even, this was the Eden from which Adam and Eve were banished by a wrathful yet loving Almighty.

Eventually managing to tear his eyes away from the view, Trowa pulled an Ordinance Survey map from his pocket and unfolded it, consulted. After a few seconds, he pointed towards the distant bluffs.

"The map shows that there's an abandoned complex down in there, about a mile and a half from the bottom of the cliffs."

Quatre caught on to the implication and pulled out his own map.

"First one there wins?

"You game?"

You're on."

Each allowed the other a minute to decide on the best course before scrambling back into their machines, Quatre simply walking in and Trowa scrambling up a ladder. With a roar the engines came to life and the two vehicles lurched slightly, coiling to leap on the starting line. Quatre, on the left, called them out.

"3-2-1-GO!"

Giant wheels pummelled the ground and treads spun and caught. Like thoroughbreds on the Derby, the two machines thrust ahead.

---------------------

Quatre quickly began to swing away from Trowa, aiming up the valley sides towards the jungle. Trowa's tank however, powered straight down the valley, ploughing through swamps and streams, sometimes sinking up to it's suspension in the quagmire, always pulling itself back up.

Running on firmer ground, Quatre reached the treeline and began to skirt the valley Trowa kept getting bogged down in behind him. Soon however, Quatre began to face increasingly larger trees in his path and frustrated, kicked in a set of rocket boosters, using sheer speed and weight to over- ride anything in his path.

Trowa meanwhile remained unfazed, forcing his way up out of the marshland and beginning a long, gradual climb towards a thick band of forest ahead of him and the cliffs a mile beyond. As he hit the treeline the three Gatling drums on his machine thundered into voice, creating a clear path towards the top of the rise.

Together, the two machines tore parallel lines through the narrow bar of jungle, eventually breaking through the encroaching undergrowth. Ahead, the land ran level for half a mile, before dropping off two hundred feet, and in the valley below, faint grey structures stood mired in the rainforest that were divided from the foot of the cliffs by a wide swathe of chest- high elephant grass.

Quatre's grey carrier, about a quarter of a mile ahead of Trowa's tank and rapidly gaining ground, suddenly swung through ninety degrees left towards the entrance to a rocky grey canyon.

Trowa's machine, now mud-splattered and covered in the detritus of the jungle slammed to a halt on the edge of the cliffs and watched Quatre drive off in a completely different direction. Inside, Trowa pulled out his map and consulted it. Lo and behold, the canyon Quatre had vanished into led straight down onto the plain below, from where you could spit to the ruined complex.

"Sneaky little guy...Well, two can play at that game."

Trowa crunched into reverse gear and backed off from the cliff-edge.

---------------------

Quatre meanwhile was pounding down the steeply sloped canyon, which was barely wide enough for his ride to fit through. After scuffing the paintwork innumerable times and demolishing several rocks unfortunate enough to get in his way, Quatre reached the bottom of the run and sped out onto the plain, the roofs of the complex visible just ahead. Suddenly, his headset went off in his ears and he heard Trowa...yelling?

"BONZAI!"

Momentarily distracted/stunned, Quatre stared in astonishment as Trowa's tank sailed off the bluff ahead and above him, soaring out into the void like a graceful bird. Soon however, gravity looked up at Trowa and asked him "what the hell he was playing at" and told him to get back down immediately. Complying to Sir Issac Newton's theories, the tank began to curve down in an elegant parabola.

Engrossed watching this seemingly suicidal action, Quatre didn't notice his machine coasting to a halt as he took his feet off the accelerators.

Suddenly...the tank changed. The main body stood straight, weapons re- arranged themselves, legs appeared and caterpillar treads became arms. Still in a freefall, the Gundam Heavyarms Blitz fired it's Vernier rockets to slow it's descent, before snapping back into tank form just before impact. Unscathed, Trowa's machine drove on and reached the wrecked compound in seconds as Quatre and the Gundam Sandrock Scarab watched on in silence, before a number of colourful Arabic curses turned the radio-waves blue..

-------------------------

Elsewhere, another race was being waged. Two delta-winged aircraft catapulted along the island's rim with reckless speed, sliding past numerous peaks and jagged outcrops.

The aircraft were each Mig-31 Firefoxes, or at least resembled them, one matt-black and white, the other cream and green. The long nose-cones were both pale, and above each nose was a panel of shining obsidian. Astern the long, thin fuselage bloomed into the engine housing, which sprouted razor- tipped wings and stabilises. From each machine trailed a long blue streak of fire, vented exhaust which gradually dispersed in the stiff sea breeze.

Under both plane's wings large pieces of machinery protruded, one a pair of folded over weapons which resembled crane-arms, the other a pair of red and gold claws. Two beam cannons nestled between the two vertical stabilizers on the green jet, while it's black twin had a pair of grenade launchers fixed in the same place.

They were sleek, avenging angels of death, terrible and beautiful as they crossed over and under each other, vying for supremacy, trying to push ahead.

To the two pilots they must have seemed to be riding on a razor's edge. On one side the mountain ridges dropped straight down into the churning sea, on the other they collapsed into the jungle. It was a suitably striking and barren place for a contest of skill and power between two machines.

--------------------------

Together the Deathscythe Omega and Altron Hydra skimmed past a cliff of towering stone, and from this peak two mecha watched on. They were similar in bodies and structure, yet seemed markedly different. One was coloured in dark reds and blues, massive engines rising from it's back. The other was similarly coloured and structured, yet used more white paint and boasted a pair of red, silver, blue and gold wings, shining in the dawn. Despite their differences, they were both imposing and elegant. Behind them, the transport carrier that had carried the six machines some eighty-miles stood waiting on the shaved off peak of this mountain.

Wing Gundam Gabrielle stood closer to the cliff-edge, looking down on the raging waves that dashed against the feet of stone, relentlessly beating the island until they reduced it to nothing in the distant future.

Behind Wing stood the Zero, which suddenly took a step toward its younger brother. Over the comm.-link between the two machines two voices, the first male, the second female talked privately.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

In Wing's cockpit Relena grinned wanly at Heero's face in the monitor.

"Yeah, best way to learn, jump in the deep end – literally."

"Don't worry. I'll control Wing through the ZERO initially; give you time to adjust to the G-forces, then I'll gradually give more control over to you."

Relena nodded nervously.

"Wish me luck."

Heero tried to reassure her.

"You know this stuff, and you don't need luck because Trowa promised me you'd do good."

Without warning, Zero suddenly stepped towards Wing and pushed it over the edge! As Relena yelped Wing began falling headfirst towards the rapidly nearing ocean, gaining speed with each second.

Via the modified ZERO-MD programme the same image was relayed to both humans. Despite pointing straight down Relena's body was pushed against the back of the seat by the acceleration, allowing her a perfect view of her apparent death rushing towards her. Heero could see the rocks that thrusted out of the water like Trojan spears flying towards him, but waited to take appropriate action. In his right-hand view screen a sub-window projected Relena's terrified face, yet amazingly she did not scream.

Heero began counting slowly.

"5...4...3...2...1"

---------------------

Wing had less than a hundred feet to fall and Relena was convinced that she was going to be skewered on the rocks when she felt the Gundam shift around her.

Wing's new transformation was even more impressive than before. As the head retracted the torso pivoted through ninety degrees, the legs locking onto the back. The shield attached to this section to become the nose as the arms folded into landing gear. The transformation almost complete, the Buster-Rifle's barrel attached to the shield and the actual weapon lay along the Gundam's back, looking like a very large and powerful engine. Finally the wings spread out and Wing Gundam flew for the first time in years, banking hard to the north and soaring across the ocean with a bird's grace.

Relena, eyes squeezed shut and awaiting the fatal impact, opened her eyes and saw the Pacific's surface flashing beneath her. Amazed she blinked and pushed some loose hair out of her face, before taking in the beauty visible through the monitors.

Wing's down thrust at this low altitude created massive walls of water to be thrusted up around it, water which was vaporised to steam by the rocket exhaust. All Relena could see however, was the sunlight burning on the ocean and the undulating swell of the jungle on the cliffs around her as Heero forced Wing through a tight canyon between Isla Sorna and an offshore outcrop that rose almost as high as the island. Bringing the nose up to pass over a small rise, Heero pointed the aircraft east and pushed his accelerators to the max.

With a roar and a rush Wing blasted off at an extreme angle, it's exhaust punching a deep hole in the ocean behind it. Forced right back into the seat as if a giant's hand was on her Relena grunted and went wide-eyed as first the jagged outline of Isla Tacano rocketed far below her, followed by the tiny atoll of Isla Pena. As Heero banked the mecha-jet high above Pena he rammed the collectives forward and rammed Wing down towards Sorna at a near vertical angle, allowing Relena to feel G-forces that could only be exceeded by space-combat.

Again, as Wing neared the ocean, Heero made a drastic manoeuvre, punching in the airbrakes and slinging the machine to port, taking it away from the ocean and into a narrow fjord, easing it through multiple valleys and gullies until Wing passed the island rim and the splendour of Isla Sorna was unveiled before Relena like a blanket.

"Whoa..."

Smaller mountains and hills, all draped with lush greenery unfolded towards the lagoon far away and below. Beyond they rose up again to the opposite rim. As Wing dipped lower into the crater at a more sedate speed fields and meadows became visible, gorges spliting the island and cascading waterfalls plunging into lakes and rivers. No-one could see this view and not be awestruck.

Choosing the moment when Relena was at her most relaxed state of mind and body (she was to overwhelmed to be tense), Heero let go of his controls and sat back, arms crossed. He had given Relena the push, now to see if she swam or drowned.

Relena was admiring the view when the whole-world turned crazy. Wing pitched forward and the mountains, jungle and sky span around her as it went into a tail-spin. Reacting, she tried to yank back on the collectives, but they wouldn't budge, locked by the dive and Wing's weight.

"WhatdoIdo, whatdoIdo," she panted as the ground loomed large before her. Heero broke her out of her panic by yelling sharply over the intercom.

"Relax, don't panic and do what Trowa told you."

Flustered, Relena nodded vigorously, her eyes darting across the consoles.

"RELAX!"

Forcing herself to calm, Relena stomped on the two foot panels and felt the kick of the engines letting themselves out. As Wing gained airspeed the wings generated more lift, and she was able to pull the collectives back and coax the Gundam out of it's deathspin, sending it shooting along the lagoon towards the open canyon and the sea beyond.

Still recovering from the shock, Relena finally saw what she had achieved. She pulled back on the left joystick and Wing crabbed to port. She corrected the move and sensed the Gundam's weight beneath her, could hear and feel the roaring engines behind her head following her commands. Experimenting, she rolled forward slightly, and Wing gracefully crept down and parted the waters with the end of its landing gear.

Relena blinked in astonishment. She had done it...She could do it...Overjoyed, she screamed in triumph, and led Wing into a barrel-roll.

--------------------------

From the outside, it was a beautiful sight. The setting sun painted the sky in red, blue and purple, and the lagoon reflected this on it's tranquil surface. Wing, a blazing, hurtling comet, blasted across the waters going through all manner of contortions. As Relena crowed with joy in his headset, Heero smiled and watched on from the top of the mountain.

'Times like this,' he thought to himself, 'it's good to be alive.'

--------------------------

The AC age had marked a new beginning for humanity, the era of 'the final frontier.' The years had changed from BC to AD to mark the birth of Christ, and from AD to AC to mark humanity's new goal; to join their saviour in the heavens.

In the two centuries that followed, technology had leapt ahead as quickly as ever; sixty years from the Wright Brother's first flight till the moon- landing. Sixty years. Since then propulsion to the stars had shifted from chemical rocketry, to the revolutionary Minovsky/Vernier engine, and now the first of the new PJ engines.

Likewise, man's aspirations had shifted. From exploring space and new worlds, he had shrunken his objectives to simply living in space. And why?

Space itself, was simply too great, too vast to be explored for such a fledgling species. Even light, fastest being in nature, takes centuries to travel to wondering eyes from those burning stars in the night sky. The ultimate goal, had always been faster-than-light travel, but despite the evidence demonstrated by mythical franchises like 'Star Wars' and 'Star Trek', that goal had rapidly been accepted as impossible.

So man had turned in on itself, in order to carve out an empire in its miniscule corner of the cosmos. Rather than pushing beyond Sol's light he had filled Low Earth Orbit with infinite satellites, and littered the five Lagrange points with hundreds of colonies. Numerous meteorites were towed into orbit for exploitation of their rare minerals and the elusive moon was populated.

With so much life in space so close to the motherland of Earth, people rarely ventured further into space. The Mars Terraforming project was the notable exception. Preliminary work had begun to establish facilities on the planet that would pump massive amounts of pollution into the atmosphere to melt the polar ice and create an Earth-like climate. Ironically, the Greenhouse effect that had almost destroyed humanity was now being turned to create a new home, but one which would not be fully populated for decades.

Further out the mark of man was less and less. The only vessels that journeyed as far as Jupiter were the fuel-guzzling behemoths of the Jupiter Mining Corporation; the 'White Giant' and the 'Red Dwarf', gathering and transporting home the elusive Helium-3 gas that had powered the After Colony age. There were-refuelling depots and small communities on some of the gas giant's moons, Ganymede and Titan, but the total populous was less than the 1.1 Million who lived on each Lagrange colony.

In the minds of many the 'last outpost' of humanity in space was the asteroid belt between Sol-4 and 5. Here were the two asteroid colonies MO-4 and MO-5, from where the new PJ engine that would reduce inter-planet journeys to mere hours had its origins. This area of space was active enough to allow rumours to arise of a 'Bermuda Triangle' effect in one region, along with the persisting myth of an automated MD factory known only as Vulcanus...

However, despite the rapidly growing activity on and around Mars, it was still possible for large spacecraft to hide in its dark-side and not be noticed by mankind's eyes and ears.

Today, that was the game of the Cybertronian Vessels Salvation and Vengeance, having arrived by proving the 'faster-than light' nay-sayers dead wrong.

------------------------------

The Decepticon Crusier Vengeance was laid down at the Kokular Shipyards on the same-day as her predecessor, the Nemisis was launched, and was initially planned to be a twin of the infamous battleship. A sudden spate of victories for the Decepticons however caused the plans for the vessel to be drastically enlarged. In human terms, Vengence was the 'Queen Mary' to the 'Titanic' of the Nemesis; longer, broader, more heavily armed but only slightly faster due to her bulk.

The bridge was also more elaborate. Set high above the flight deck in the front of the giant stern assembly, the viewports allowed a grandstand view of the three-thousand ft. long flight-deck, a long, tapering snout which strode ahead, before sweeping down into the hooked nose of the prow.

The commander's chair was on a raised dais at the immediate stern of the bridge, above it a giant glass bubble that allowed the captain to look up to the gargantuan vessel's stern-fin behind him, and the five-hundred foot high Decepticon sigils plastered on either side of it, intended to further encourage him to victory when the chips were down and the battle all but lost.

--------------------------------------

For Shockwave, those giant emblems were a constant reminder of the responsibility that pressed down on his shoulders every minute of every day. If not for the fact that it would have destabilised morale he would have had all such sigils burned off the ship long ago, rather than have them forever stare down at him.

Currently, he was engaged in activities which brought a disquieting 'pleasure' to his otherwise ordered and logical mind; simply being alone and observing the splendour of space, perhaps with a cube of refined and fortified energon at his side. For the current leader of the Decepticons, it allowed a...pleasant few breems escape from the burdens he had to bear.

Just off to his command's starboard he could see the golden hull of the equally powerful vessel Salvation. Most likely his counterpart and good...friend Ultra Magnus was currently engaged in battle-drill, or generating a new strategy for proposing peace to the warring Transformer factions on Sol-3, rather than waste time in this manner.

The com-link in his throne's arm chimed softly, and a familiar face appeared.

'Speak of the Devourer and he appears', Shockwave mused as Magnus nodded respectfully.

"Busy Shockwave?"

"Sadly no, I would prefer to engage in activity than waste time doing little or nothing."

To Shockwave's surprise Magnus chuckled.

"What, you actually don't like sitting up there doing nothing? For at least three breems? Every astrocycle?"

If Shockwave had a brow he would have wrinkled it in confusion. Magnus explained.

"You can't see into the bridge of the Salvation because it's at deck level. I on the other-hand can and often see you enjoying some quiet time way up there. It seems to be very restful, so I'm doing likewise. What energon is it?"

"Energon?"

Magnus held up a similar cube to Shockwave's, a vivid purple.

"Reactor Waste from Iacon city."

Shockwave's optic flashed for a second.

"Undrinkable filth for the masses."

He held up his own pastel-green cube, cupping it with an aloof air.

"Methane crystals grown in Megatron's private province in Kokular. An excellent vintage."

Magnus shook his head, mirth in his eyes.

"Weak refreshment for the higher-classes. This will put fire in your spark."

"I may be old-fashioned Magnus but I'd rather a cold-spark to one with fire in it and a dissolved chassis."

Magnus blinked, then chuckled, then burst out into a belly-laugh.

"I don't believe it Shockwave! You just made a joke!"

Shockwave's body went rigid.

'Primus above. I've sunk as low as him.'

As Magnus's laughter dwindled he smiled slightly, a reflective expression on his face.

"The Vengence looks beautiful from here Shockwave. Purple goes well with the stars, reflects their radiance nicely."

"I do not concur. The Salvation's gold is far more impressive when in synchrony with this red-planet's light."

Magnus nodded in thanks to the compliment and reached to turn off his end of the comm.

"To each his own. Evening Shockwave; enjoy your methane.

"Likewise Ultra Magnus."

-----------------------

As the screen blinked out Shockwave turned and stared towards the system's distant star, and the planet that surely lay ahead. As he thought he began to drain the dregs of the energon through his finger intakes.

'What will we find on Sol-3. The Transformer war in full rage, with two leaders unshaken in their desire to win? Or one faction victorious and the other subjugated...'

Shockwave's musings were disrupted by a respectful chime from the bridge hatch-way. Laying the drink down he replied.

"Enter."

The door slid open and the darkened bridge was lit by a faint golden hue from this new Transformer, who saluted crisply. Shockwave returned it.

"Sunstorm."

----------------------

Sunstorm externally was a generic Seeker, one of the millions that had loyally fought the Decepticon 's war under both Scorpinok and Megatron. However, it could easily be seen that he was...different. Unlike the other Seekers - whose bodies were painted in a variety of colours, his gave off a distinct aura, and was plated in gold and silver, with no paint staining his form, not even a sigil on his wings. Attention would also have been drawn to his amber (rather than the traditional red) optics. Despite this, he was a Decepticon to his core...or Starscream's.

Early during the Autobot/Decepticon alliance, Shockwave had attempted to 'clone' several of the most powerful of the missing Transformers. To this end, he had gathered samples of their 'genetic'; a fluid that flowed through each Transformer, and used the information therein to create identical sparks, which were then allowed to 'mature' in culture growth vats. By this process, liquid metal added to the vat was gradually shaped into a new form by the spark itself, becoming a direct clone of the lost Autobot or Decepticon. They would have all of their personality traits, physical and mental powers, though none of the memories.

Shockwave had a second objective in mind however. As each spark matured, he had downloaded as much raw data into its 'memory' as he could. Data, from Vector Sigma...

Attempts to install the ancient Transformer supercomputer into either the Vengence or Salvation had failed, the Transformer technology incompatible with the computer. Transformers that had tried to decipher much of the unknown information in Vector Sigma had likewise nearly been destroyed by the data feedback. Shockwave had hoped that by connecting his growing clones to the supercomputer it would help them develop compatible circuitry, consequently the clones could help translate much of the unknown data in Vector Sigma's memory banks, data that could be vital in destroying Unicron.

Sadly, most of the finished clones, though able to understanding Sigma, did not have enough electrical power to keep their core processors – now smaller Vector Sigmas in themselves – active. The duplicates of Optimus Prime, Jazz, Ironhide, Megatron and Soundwave had all gone into fatal shutdown seconds after being activated.

Starscream's clone however had survived, because Shockwave had realised the problem and installed an experimental solar reactor in him prior to activation. The net result therefore of Starscream's genetic base, the parental influence of Vector Sigma, and a hyper-powerful energy-source, was Sunstorm; calm, collected, with all of Starscream's intelligence, battle- skill and ability.

And the...other power. Sunstorm's knowledge of Vector Sigma grew slowly, so he did not over-reach himself. The further he went however, the more his own...supernatural abilities grew. Precognition, a near telepathic sense, and the odd ability to project solar energy from his hands might only be the tip of the iceberg of his abilities.

---------------------------

Shockwave looked on his most senior and favoured lieutenant.

"You are troubled Sunstorm?"

Sunstorm bit his lip and scratched his cockpit, as if something was itching within his very spark.

"A power, a transformer's spark...nearby. Great, powerful; but tainted. I feel him, near death, but somehow alive..."

Sunstorm looked up and locked eyes with Shockwave.

"This Transformer reeks of Unicron's influence!"

----------------------------

Space. Deep, rolling, black, and empty. An endless vacuum of nothingness, the eternal void...and a voice. Rich and rolling; humans would describe this voice as 'godly', a voice that hinted at boundless wisdom, infinite knowledge and power.

"MY SERVANT..."

The transformer that floated in the void, an incandescent ghost, opened his eyes. As he came to consciousness, the eternal voice was suddenly tainted with brooding malice and evil.

"...YOU HAVE FAILED..."

The Decepticon gasped in fear as he stared into the maw of a being he knew could crush him in a second. Cold, raw terror surged along each of his circuits as he prostrated himself.

"Master," trembled Onslaught.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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A/N: Bet you didn't see that one coming! He, he, he! If you're nice and give me lots of feedback, CHAPTER 3: FAUSTUS, will go online soon. Hope to hear from you soon!

PS. In case you haven't got it...Isla Nublar, Isla Sorna, Los Cinqo Muertes...WELCOME TO JURASSIC PARK!

Bye for now!