Sperare: The Rising Chapter 2: Part One, a gundam wing/ac fanfic

Title: Sperare: The Rising – Chapter One - Masquerade
Author name: Hileigh
Author email: link
Category: Gundam Wing
Sub Category: drama, angst, action/adventure, romance, humor, supernatural, mystery, suspense, sci-fi, fantasy...all of the above
Keywords: keywords are stupid. Keywordsdeath.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: When a world war threatens to tear the earth asunder, it's up to seven unlikely heroes to keep everything from falling apart. But will they save mankind before they kill each other? Evil minions, love triangles, torture chambers, bats out of hell, cheeky grins, smarmy gits, and lots of estrangement. Oh, and no gundams.

Chapter Summary: Creepy invisible stalker-men stalk, the Bobbsey Twins take up synchronized swimming, man-eating hills become vegetarians, fifty feet of double-sided masking tape is still dangerous, Really Big Problems are Really Big Problems, a trek to the Pyramids only takes ten minutes, and Elmur Fudd chases Little Bunny Foo Foo while eating three Twinkies, a pop tart, and sour cream and onion potato chips. In another country, everything is made of glass, except not really. More people than you can count almost get killed for no good reason at all, Dragons break into (and out of) dungeons, protocol gets broken more than once, and proper decorum is just thrown right out the window.

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on the Gundam Wing series and involves original characters and situations owned by Bandai. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. However, characters including but not limited to Raven, Stars, Lander, Kale, Cat, Corin, Kenji, Athens, Odin, Mac, Thais, Dyrin, Tnepres, Silo, Rapier, and Khan are copyright © Me, aka Hileigh. Also, collecting quotes has been sort of a hobby of mine for ages. Sometimes, I don't know where they're from, but if I do, I'll list it. If you see a quote that is not cited and you know where it's from, please tell me so I can give the author proper credit. Quote sources including but not limited to Buffy, Blackadder, Red Dwarf, Farscape, Dawson's Creek, Friends, and Frasier are copyright © their original authors. Other citations will be provided when needed.

Author's Note: The entire Sperare trilogy takes place in the year AC 221, twenty-six years after the original series. The characters in focus in this fanfic are older than the characters in the canon, and will behave accordingly. Mature themes should be expected. Also, the futures of the original characters have been interpreted to better the setting of this fanfic. In no way is this story a continuation of the original series, nor should it be considered 'real'.

Sperare is Latin for 'to hope.' It is pronounced spur-ARE-ay

!PLEASE READ! – Due to demand and several well-calculated threats, this is the actual Chapter One of Sperare: The Rising. The original chapter is not divided into sections like I have done/will be doing here. However, due to certain complaints that the chapters are over a hundred pages long each…I decided to post it divided. See what I do for you guys? …And for the sheer reason that I desperately need response on it, both the encouraging kind and the critical kind, and people tend to see novel-length fics and run the other way. But REALLY, I need to know if there is going to be any interest in this story…it's far too epic to continue if there are no readers.So I beg...if you read, REVIEW!– Audra

This chapter is dedicated to my wonderful, darling betas: Melanie, who is always there to poke me into writing. And Kaley, who is never afraid to say, "Gee, that really sucks." Love you guys J

Chapter One – Masquerade – Part One

"One of life's primal situations; the game of hide and seek. Oh, the delicious thrill of hiding while the others come looking for you, the delicious terror of being discovered, but what panic when, after a long search, the others abandon you! You mustn't hide too well. You mustn't be too good at the game. The player must never be bigger than the game itself." – Jean Baudrillard

ooo

Cosmic jet Kanori Skyrocket 451 was exactly on time. It had left its launch pad in Baltimore at precisely 2:45 in the afternoon, approximately fifteen minutes ago; destination: colony L2.

Airline captain Neil Coleman mentally checked over his instruments while answering his co-captain's verbal checklist.

"Altitude?"

"Check."

"Fuel?"

"Check."

"Boosters?"

"Check."

"Air pressure?"

"Check."

The co-captain, Tony, stretched within the constraints of his double-breasted seat belt and smiled good-naturedly. "Weather looks great too. And there aren't any asteroids in the forecast. Should be smooth sailing all the way to L2, captain. We clear the atmosphere in thirty seconds. Twenty-nine….twenty-eight…"

ooo

In first class, Carina Espier looked fondly at her husband as he comically tried to find the best answers to the rapid-fire questions being relayed by their five-year-old daughter, Aria.

"How do planes fly? Why are we being pushed back in the seats? Why do I have to have my seat-belt on? Are we in space yet? How long till we get there? Can I look out the window? Why do stars float? Why, daddy?"

"Err…what was the first one again?"

Aria laughed delightfully. "Daddy, you're so silly! Isn't he funny, mama?"

Carina smiled. "Yes, darling, he is." She turned away and looked out the jet's small window, a soft smile still gracing her face, and again thought of how fortunate it was that her family could be with her for this business trip. As an ambassador to L2, time spent with her family was rare. Ever since The Fall and the start of the New War, Kanor had counted on her to keep communications and intelligence open with its allied colonies. Anything to help her nation.

Funny how five years can change someone, she thought wryly. After all, it had only been five years since The Fall – the vast terror and the bombing of the great cities. Still, despite the youngness of the new country, she felt fiercely protective of Kanor, and like most citizens, gladly gave her services to better the Kanori front.

She was a lightfoot ambassador, of course – she traveled to many places instead of just one from her home in Baltimore. It was the only way she could stay in Kanori territory and not have to move her family into other…unfriendly venues. L2 was by far the farthest point for her, though, and she was relieved when her superior suggested she take her family along with her. Sighing in contentment for the first time in a long time, she turned her attention back to her husband and daughter as the plane prepared to exit the Earth's atmosphere.

ooo

In coach seat 15B, Muriel Creighton clutched at her arm-rest. She was getting too old for this. And all to see that rogue son of hers on the colony. He had a wife now, and children. It was past time for her to meet them.

She felt her stomach turn and closed her eyes tightly. First that retched launch, and now this. 'Exit,' she thought they called it. Something about leaving Earth's gravity. She liked the Earth just fine, thank you. This flying business could be saved for all the young people running around these days, if you asked her. The inertia pushing her back increased slightly. Yes, she was definitely getting too old for this.

ooo

Approximately seventeen minutes into flight, Kanori Skyrocket 451 exploded into a red ball of fire. The debris arched up and out, until the Earth's gravity brought it down again to rest with the ashes.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The unseen eyes watched the pair from his vantage point. The two fighters were garbed in total fencing uniform, from head to toe. They had been sparring for well over two hours now, but the time hadn't slowed their movement. Even through his closeness to them, he could barely make out anything save a seamless white blur, though he knew from earlier study what he would see if they were still. One, who stood to the right, was tall and broad-shouldered, but as quick on his feet as the other. The other, on the left, was shorter. Though, the watcher thought wryly, not that short – the second fighter was a little less than a head shorter than the first. His frame was much smaller as well. Perhaps younger, he thought.

The watcher couldn't help but smirk at his own brilliance. Oh, how easy it would be to get caught up in the reckless arrogance that he was practically invisible and – wait, scratch that, he was bloody invisible. He could be standing on the very mat with the fighters and they would not see him. Well…maybe. He frowned. Even so, he was watching them and they didn't know. Gold star for him. Man, the tower was lucky that he was such a humble guy. At that thought, he was reminded exactly how he was able to be here in one of the most high-tech and secretive training halls in the entire country; he had been aided by the higher-ups, naturally – higher-ups that had a tendency to watch their agents in action, especially on a case like this. He hastily turned his attention back to the two fighters. Best not make the brass angry.

They were very good. He wasn't one to exaggerate when he spoke – well, he wasn't exaggerating now. Though the fighters were unmatched in size, they seemed perfectly matched in skill. It took all his talent to follow their blurred movements. They seemed to know each other well…it was as if each could predict the other's movement before it was executed. He frowned again. Of course, they were very different in style. The smaller of the two was quick and bold in his attacks, while the other used a more calculating, forceful style.

He was jerked out of his reverie at the sound of a shrill bell…or something. He jumped and looked around guiltily before realizing that the fight had immediately stopped. The smallest fighter was searching his pockets and brought out a small silver device that the watcher recognized as a cell phone. The fighter stared at the screen momentarily before putting the infernal noise-maker (which had finally shut up) back into his pocket.

His attention was caught momentarily by the tall fighter, who had moved without a word and grabbed the other's sword, along with his own, and walked to the adjacent wall to hang them. When the fighter turned his attention back to his partner, the watcher's attention turned as well.

And his mouth dropped open. The other fighter had taken off his white fencing helmet. And…he was a she. Dark, mahogany hair fell to her waist, and bangs of the same color nearly covered her eyes. Nearly. And judging by the fact that the other fighter, who had also taken off his helmet (he sighed in relief to see that this fighter was not actually a woman) had the same high cheekbones and richly-colored hair, the two were related. Probably brother and sister.

Holy shit.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Galen Stars Yuy shrugged into the sleeves of his navy-blue blazer as he half-walked, half-trotted out of the building. He didn't have to look to know that his sister was beside him, pulling her hair back with quick, practiced fingers. As they cleared the barn door of the large training hall, habit made him stop, and turn.

A very computer-generated, very feminine voice called out to them. "Thank you for coming to visit, Mister and Miss Yuy." Ah, the joys of technology.

"No problem, Caitlin. Lockdown, level three."

Immediately, layers of steel bars came from the ceiling and the sides and barred the door; a rather flimsy-looking set of wood doors swung closed to complete the security.

The 'Barn,' as it was called, was very much, to all appearances, an old barn. Granted, a very large, very unstable looking barn; no passer-by would dare enter, for fear of one of the large wooden beams falling on their unsuspecting heads. And if they ever tried to enter…well, they would have more to worry about than wooden beams. Not to mention that Caitlin, the 'security system muse' was programmed to do something 'shocking' in case of any such transgression. None of them had any idea of exactly what that was, but Stars really had no desire to find out. The last time something 'shocking' was administered, the poor bloke that had been walking by was attacked by mechanical shrubbery. All inquiries of his health thereafter had been tactfully dodged. After all, inside the Barn was one of the most advanced gyms on the planet, for use by a select few defense agents in the territory of Kanor. More specifically, it was built for only four agents of Kanor – one team.

Sperare.

He turned and resumed his brisk pace to the rickety shed where his Jeep was hidden. He felt more than saw his sister split from his side and jog to the passenger seat. She grabbed the roller-bar and easily slid in through the open window. He quickly did the same, and then they were speeding down the deserted highway towards the city.

"Well, that was fun while it lasted. I'm glad you talked – no, wait, tricked – me into coming, Stars."

He flashed her a grin, not at all remorseful. "No problem, Raven." It was one of their atypical off days. They weren't restricted to the Core City, but all of them knew better than to stray too far away, no matter how bad they wanted to run to some remote place. So, their activities were more than a little limited. They could train at the KIC; they could sleep; or, they could get drunk. However, considering that the last time the latter occurred, the end results involved bobby pins, fifty feet of double-sided masking tape, and a rather unsavory game of Scrabble, that option wasn't really available. So, he had driven to the Barn at the crack of dawn, dragging his sister with him on impulse – in hope that maybe he could figure out what had been bothering her lately.

Smirking, he turned toward her. He was spoiling for some classic sibling banter. "I needed an easy victory."

Her indignant gasp brought a rare smile to his face. "You did not win, you over-confident pillock! Your constant jealousy of my superior skill has left you woefully deluded. Besides that, it was a draw. We were only fighting for…what, two hours? We didn't even get to round three."

He threw back his head and laughed, enjoying the fact that right now, they could just be brother and sister. Because in twenty minutes, IC headquarters would come into view, and there, they weren't allowed to be human.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Want to race back to the station, Sparky?" Lander Maxwell muttered sardonically under his breath. He was sitting behind the wheel of his red Corvette, top down, on the side of a two lane highway. The street they were on was lined with colorful buildings, mostly nightclubs. It was called the Tunnel, and in about twelve hours, it would be the place to be, even on a Monday. At the moment, though, it was completely empty. Except for me and Mr. Moto-prat, Lander thought sourly.

"What was that?"

He rolled his eyes at the cop. "Nothing, nothing. Listen, officer --" he peered at the shiny silver nametag "—Shitzenfeltz?" He almost choked trying to swallow his laugh, and turned it into a cough instead. Tee hee hee. Shitzenfeltz. That was funny. The cop – Officer Shitzenfeltz – was starting to look a little red around the ears. He obviously didn't think it was funny, which, Lander thought, was a damn shame. He was going to bite through his lip trying not to laugh; if he had a name like that – well, thank God he didn't. The cop's eyes were hard; nope, no laughter there. Lander cleared his throat and managed a relatively strait face before continuing.

"Officer, I appreciate your dedication to your job, but really --"

"I need to see some identification, son."

Son? The man couldn't have been a day over twenty-five. Lander might only be nineteen, but he was tall and well-built, even if his face had a boyish sort of charm. He's trying to pull rank on me, Lander thought incredulously. The thought was so absurd that he laughed aloud without thinking about it. This little Peacekeeper, trying to patronize me, Merlin, First Principle, Alpha Task Force Sperare of Kanor. How funny. This had never happened before. All the law-enforcement in the city knew he was off limits. Most of the Enforcers and the Peacekeepers knew his fire-engine red car by sight, and they stayed away from him. Not that he would bite or anything; but it was typically good practice to stay out of the way of the guy who was considered to be one of the four most dangerous people in the world. And even if they didn't know his car, the tag on the back spelled out his call sign: Merlin. And everyone knew that name.

Lander felt like a kid in a toy store. Can't I play with the big bad policeman, can't I? Hell yes, he could. "Sorry, but I find it terribly inconvenient to carry IDs. Always lose the little buggers, you know." He started to hum the theme to Hawaii 5-O under his breath.

Officer Shitzenfeltz moved his hand to rest on the butt of the gun holstered at his side. His whole face was red now.

Point for me, Lander thought gleefully.

"I need to see some ID immediately, or I'll have to detain you." The officer's teeth were clenched so hard that the order came out as more of a snarl.

Lander's face fell into a customary, cold mask. All emotion stripped from his face, he looked at the officer with cold, calculating eyes. He knew that the change was split-second, and completely unsettling. Shitzenfeltz blinked, the beginnings of fear starting to show in his eyes. Lander mentally gave himself another point. He carefully cultured his voice to have a sharp contrast with his face. "Gee, and mom always said never to go anywhere with strangers." He pretended to think. "I could show you my library card?" He said the last words harshly, the threat carrying on the air, and let his violet eyes pierce through the cop; he was rewarded with a flinch. The unspoken words hung in the air between them: Back off, Barney, I've got a piece.

"Gosh, officer…you're not going to check my criminal record, are you? I swear, they were all accidents, honest. I didn't mean to run over that other Peacekeeper. He just sort of popped out of nowhere, you know? And I wasn't really drunk in public – okay, so I was the first three times, but those last six were completely unfounded --" His fun was cut short by a sharp beep from his cell phone. A single three digit message was displayed on the screen.

911.

Lander turned toward the cop, who was in the process of calling for back-up. "Look, I gotta run, man. It's been fun. No hard feelings, right?"

He didn't wait for the cop's answer, and before Officer Shitzenfeltz noticed that his suspected fugitive was gone, Lander was shifting gears smoothly down the city streets to the IC headquarters.