Author's Notes:

I present to you Chapter 8, probably the hardest chapter to write. This went through several revisions, which is why I wasn't able to release it soon after 7, but as compensation, this one's also at round 7,000 words. That means a lot of action!

In the previous chapter, I mentioned a ship called the Midway. This was inspired by the USS Midway (CV-41), which has served for decades before being decommissioned and turned in a museum. It's considered a legendary carrier for its sheer longevity, with a record spanning the end of WWII up until the '90s. You may also notice a few Star Trek references—I grew up with the series, so that's more or else how I imagined a starship would work.

Anyway, enough of the backgrounders. ^_^ Please read and review!

Disclaimer:

Gundam Wing doesn't belong to me.

Lunar Ember Presents

A Gundam Wing Fanfiction

Death and Taxes

Chapter 8: Reckoning

"Seven have been confirmed dead while 15 were injured in two consecutive explosions that happened in the Department of Agriculture and along Main Avenue on Monday. Authorities are currently investigating both incidents, but have already tied it to the earlier threats to the life of Foreign Minister Relena Darlian, who is currently in an undisclosed location recuperating from her injuries. No one has come forward to take responsibility for the attack, however—"

Heero turned the TV off and sat up on the hospital bed he had been relegated to. Already, he had lost more than a day recuperating from the stab wound surgery. Une covering up the Foreign Minister's disappearance may have bought ESUN time, but he wasn't going to jeopardize Relena's safety any longer.

"Heero, I don't think you should be getting up yet."

Quatre had been in the room since he had woken up less than an hour before, and he had given him a quick briefing: the Preventers have yet to pinpoint Relena's exact location, but it would seem that she was taken to L4. A quick check with immigration showed that Sylvia Noventa's travels coincided with Marcus Kraz's trips to the colony, and with the incident in L2, the woman could very well be moving under the alias "Adebowale Misando".

Dorothy Catalonia's last transmission had given them a close approximation of the area. A map sweep showed a cluster of ruined, uninhibited colonies, which for Heero was all well and good—he wouldn't have to worry about tearing the place apart to get Relena back.

He was angry.

"I've wasted enough time here," he muttered, setting his feet on the floor.

"Heero, you've been stabbed and had your shoulder dislocated. You're full of abrasions and your back is covered with first-degree burns—oh and you've got a concussion, too. I don't think the doctors will let you out in your condition."

"Won't let me out?" He said, his tone dangerous. "They're welcome to try and stop me."

Quatre looked at him, closed the book he was reading, and chuckled under his breath. "Well, Sally wanted me to convince you to rest, but I told them it wouldn't work."

A doctor was eventually called in to remove the monitors and the IV drips, and in 20 minutes Heero was out of the room in the plainclothes Quatre had brought him. He noticed that he had been checked in under a different name, and after signing the waiver and the release, he agreed to ride with the Sandrock ex-pilot to the L2 Preventer HQ.

"I know you're worried about Miss Relena," Quatre began as he shifted gears after a stoplight. "We all are. But at the very least Dorothy is most probably with her."

Heero remembered how the woman had helped during the Perfect Peace and Mariemaia incidents, but he still had to ask: "Do you trust her?"

Quatre smiled and gave him a sidelong glance. "I do."

"Hn."

"But we're on borrowed time. If Kraz and Sylvia realize that Dorothy's playing both sides…"

"I'll get them before that," Heero growled under his breath. "I know I deserve pain from Sylvia, but she should have directed it to only me." He felt his anger rise and cool into a frightening calm. "She should have never involved Relena."

Heero knew Quatre could hear the dark malice in his voice, knew that he understood the ominous undertone of his words. The familiar, focused calm of rage had enveloped him now, making his mission infinitely clearer than ever before.

They took Relena Darlian.

There would be hell to pay.

Stopping a probable mobile suit resurgence was initially the plan, but now it was also a rescue mission: if their intel was right, Noventa and Kraz had Relena. That definitely complicated things.

Zechs was worried. Of course he was, but he knew the people who abducted Relena would not kill her—at least not right away— because they wouldn't waste their time taking her if that was their main objective. No, these people wanted something from Relena. There haven't been any demands yet, but the Preventers were not going to wait for any.

He sent Une the necessary clearances for the mission before shutting down his laptop. In a few hours, he and the rest of the team would be boarding the ESS Midway. The Peacemillion-class ship was initially built as rescue barge for refugees still displaced years after the Eve Wars, but it served another confidential purpose—it was a solid carrier with the ability to deploy three squadrons of mobile suits and four weaponized supersonic transport jets at any given time. Une knew that having such a ship was hypocritical given ESUN's stance of total pacifism, but she, like him, also knew that if they were to protect what peace they had, they needed to be ready. He didn't want another Mariemaia uprising. No one did.

He just wasn't sure if Relena knew about it or how she would react if she found out, but that was neither here nor there. If it took another battle to protect her and all that she had worked so hard for, then so be it.

Zechs was about to leave his makeshift office when Heero Yuy decided to drop by. True to form, the younger pilot went straight to the point.

"I heard you got command of the Midway."

"That's right."

"I'm coming with you."

Zechs took a moment to study him. There was an ugly abrasion on his right cheek, and he could see the bloodied bandages from peeking beneath the collar of the sweater he wore.

"You just came out of surgery, Yuy."

"Wing Zero exploded over Brussels with me in it and I'm still alive. A stab wound is nothing."

Zechs brushed past him. "Rest up and stay here. We'll handle this."

"No." The controlled anger in the other man's voice made him stop and glance back. Heero's eyes were clear and determined. "I'm getting her back."

Insistent bastard. He turned and walked towards his sister's bodyguard, deliberately invading his space. "If you had been more careful in the first place, Agent Yuy, we wouldn't have to get Relena back from yet another deranged group of political radicals."

He should have expected that the acid in his words wouldn't have any effect on him—Heero seemed to have already accepted his failure, but he wasn't about to wallow, back down, or take no for an answer.

"I am coming on this mission, Zechs. Whether you allow me on board the Midway or I have to steal a jet from right under your nose, I'm flying to L4."

He had wanted to punch him right where he stood, but at the same time, Zechs felt a spark of pride at the younger pilot's blatant defiance. If there's one thing that hadn't changed about Heero Yuy, it was that he was stubborn about his principles and had a one-track mind when he knew that something—or someone—was worth fighting for.

He hissed and glanced away. "You're a prick, you know that?"

Heero simply glared at him.

"We converge at the transport bay and leave at 0500," he said, finally relenting. "You're under my command, Yuy. I will not tolerate any foolhardiness because this is my sister we're talking about." He knew that he didn't have to remind him of who they were dealing with. He also knew that he would stop at nothing to get Relena back, but with Heero's past history of disregarding his own safety, Zechs had to admit that he was concerned—and he hated it.

"I don't want to be the one to tell Relena that you've killed yourself rescuing her like the bloody idiot that you are, so I expect you to follow my orders. Is that understood?"

Heero's face remained passive as he gave him a salute. "Yes, sir."

What a fucker, Zechs thought to himself as he turned around and walked away.

Dorothy stared at Kraz as they sat in his office, trying her best to look interested in what the man had to say, but the reality was she deep in her thoughts, imprinting in her mind corridors, access codes, and guard schedules that she had observed thus far. She played everything in her head, repeating information like a rhythmic chant with the regularity of a clock ticking. She now even knew Kraz' code.

"827543," she silently repeated "827543."

If all goes well, that would also be what would open what seemed to be the communications room she had seen in her limited comings and goings. For all its secrecy and external precautions, the base was rather lax when it came to interior security, with Kraz complacent with the fact that they were almost too far out for anyone to regularly travel in or out, or for any Lagrange point radar to reach. Unless of course one would send out a signal strong enough from within…

Dorothy's thoughts came to a screeching halt when the door suddenly slid open, and she held back her surprise when she saw who it was who entered.

"Welcome back, Adel," Kraz stood up and motioned towards her. "I've brought a guest."

"So did I." Behind the woman, Relena walked in.

Interesting, she told herself. "Who would have thought that the infamous Adel would be none other than Sylvia Noventa?" Dorothy curtsied. "Oh, and you even brought my favorite person in all of the Earth Sphere! Ms. Relena," she breathed, "we have a lot of things to talk about."

"It seems so." The Foreign Minister regarded her with a neutral expression, and it made her smile—it looks like a certain pilot had been rubbing off her a little too much.

She then all but fluttered to the other woman, "I don't think we've had the pleasure of being introduced before, Ms. Noventa."

"No."

The gun Sylvia held to her forehead wasn't something that Dorothy anticipated.

"However, your kind were the ones who got my grandfather killed."

Dorothy stilled for a moment, before allowing her smile to grow wider. "That's true, but that's the way war goes, doesn't it? There will always be… oh what's it called again? Collateral damage."

She let her final words drip with mockery, challenging her to pull the trigger.

Sylvia smirked, and whipped her hand to the side to shoot Kraz in the chest. Relena gasped sharply, watching the man fall on the carpeted floor with a dull thud.

Dorothy held the other woman's green gaze, the smile never leaving her lips. "Curious choice of person to kill."

"You're more useful to me now than he is," she said, clickling the gun's safety on. "But we'll see how long that'll last."

"Of course."

"Would you babysit the Foreign Minister for now? I'll just have housekeeping clear this mess up," Sylvia said, kicking Kraz's arm out of her path.

"Gladly. Shall we, Ms. Relena?"

Two of her own guards followed them as they left the room and walked through the dimly-lit hallways of the colony. Relena was smart enough to remain quiet—it would be easy to tap on their conversation in these areas—and it allowed her enough time to clear her thoughts.

Syliva was more volatile than she expected. Her doing away with Kraz, could only mean that she's most probably at her end game, and the mobile suits would soon be launched. She was running out to time to find out where she'll attack first or at the very least, send out information about the factory—Dorothy only hoped that Quatre had gotten her one and only message.

She ordered her men to stand guard at her door and as she ushered Relena into her room.

"Is it safe to talk here?"

"Yes."

"Good," Relena sighed, absently rubbing her forehead. "I'd like to thank you for helping us out."

Dorothy raised an eyebrow. "I'm not doing anyone a favor, Ms. Relena. I just don't want to complicate my life with another war."

"Of course, but we do appreciate the fact that you protected ESUN's funds."

That was true. It was one of the reasons why she convinced the now very dead Kraz to siphon the money through her banks, but she wasn't about to admit that. "Well, I might still consider spending them somewhere else, you know. Have you ever considered buying your own colony?"

Relena shook her head and laughed. "You never change, do you?"

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"May I sit on your bed? Whatever drug they gave me, it's still giving me headaches."

Dorothy nodded and settled down beside her. "I gather that you've seen the mobile suit factory," she asked, turning serious.

"I have, and we need to warn Preventer about it," Relena's brows furrowed. "But we're at the far edge of L4, well beyond any inhabited colony or station. The only way we can send a message is if we can find a transmitter that's powerful enough to do the job."

She glanced at her and smiled. "You never cease to amaze me, Ms. Relena."

"What are you talking about?"

"You've been kidnapped—again—and you've just seen a man shot dead before your eyes, but here you are being ever so calm and willing to sneak around the enemy base." She sighed dramatically, "If only Heero could see you now."

"We've seen worse during the Eve Wars. You know that."

"How's Heero, by the way?"

"Dorothy."

"Oh, sorry, yes, the transmitter." She stood up and walked to the window. The wide view of space was marred by junk and debris floating by. "I haven't been able to map all the key points of this base in the short time I've been here, but I've managed find one area that's producing more signals than most."

"How?"

She fished for her phone, opened an encrypted app, and tossed it to Relena. "Courtesy of Quatre. One of his companies produces devices for Preventer, don't you remember? He gave me that the night he kissed me," she smiled at the memory. "Oh, to break the hearts of lovesick women—I never knew that it would be quite enjoyable."

Relena raised an eyebrow at her, but decided against saying anything about her tryst. "So what am I looking at here?"

"See the green lines?" Dorothy asked, holding up a finger and moving it up and down to imitate waves. "Those are local radio frequencies. The blue ones are Lasercom, while the yellow ones are interplanetary optical communications. See how they conglomerate in one area?"

"That's near the factory itself."

"Exactly. It could be a communications room."

"What's that erratic signal, though?"

"Erratic signal?"

She approached Relena to take a peek. A red line that Dorothy had never seen before moved through the others. "That's interesting," she muttered.

"I have a feeling that we have to get to this room soon."

She nodded. "This place is continuously operational, but it slows down at around 2200. Let me confirm the rotation of guards, and we can probably get into the room without being noticed."

"A woman in a dirty white dress is bound to get noticed."

"You worry too much, Ms. Relena." She pulled a box from under her bed and opened it, revealing several sets of engineer uniforms. "I'm always ready."

The ESS Midway had a crew of 300, all handpicked by Zechs with the help of Une and Noin. This, after all, was a critical and highly-confidential mission, and they needed people who they could trust to never reveal anything they would see or hear during the deployment. The crew seemed to be happy that Duo Maxwell was there for the ride—the Intelligence Head seemed to be quite popular among the agents. Wufei Chang was a permanent fixture as well, and this obviously wasn't his first time to fly a vessel as large as the Midway.

Zechs realized, however, that there were some who wondered why "civilians" like Quatre Raberba Winner and Trowa Barton were also on board, and in spacesuits at that. "They're reservists" was Noin's simple explanation, but people would soon find out the real reason why, especially if it came to the inevitable point when the two would need to jump into Tauruses.

There were fewer questions about the Foreign Minister's Head of Security Heero Yuy, but maybe it was because his presence seemed to silence any argument. No one really knew who he was or how he managed to get such a high-ranking position so early in his employment—after all, this would technically be the first time he would officially be listed in the Preventer roster as all his previous missions had been deemed classified. While the older officers recognized him from incognito sorties, the new recruits gave him furtive glances, but instinctively knew he was not one to be messed with.

Noin's commanding voice pulled him out of his reverie. "We'll be skirting the perimeter of L4. A ship this big will cause unnecessary panic if seen," she said to the bridge. "Chang, how long will it take us to reach the transmission point?"

"We have about two hours with the current heading."

"Bridge to Flight Station," Noin called over comms. "Have the striker team prepare for deployment in two hours."

"Yes, ma'am!"

Zechs smiled to himself as his first officer approached to stand beside him. "Maybe you should captain this ship," he whispered to her.

"Nah, too much responsibility," she joked, staring ahead for a silent beat. "Do you think Relena's okay?"

That was what he had been thinking about since they pulled out of L2's orbit. Zechs exhaled slowly. "I think she is. For now. I'd like to hope so."

"She's a resourceful woman. She's probably planning her escape as we speak."

It's true. Things like this never really rattled Relena, and it was both something he admired in her and regretted about. Before the war, she was just as average as any teenager who grew up in the upper echelon of society could be. He would have wanted it to remain that way, but violence and politics had forced her to grow up fast, and now, whether she knew it or not, the Earth Sphere relied on her calm consistency. She had always been the voice of reason, even if she was faced with dissent. She carried the burden of being a symbol of peace so gracefully that even her critics gravitated towards her.

That was probably why many would want to either protect her or kill her.

"Oh, Zechs?"

"Yes?"

"You couldn't convince him to stay behind, could you?"

He followed her gaze to Heero who stood several paces before them, watching the dark emptiness they flew through. He was ready to be deployed, fully geared up in his spacesuit and now arranging a wireless communicator in his ear. His helmet rested on one of the nearby consoles.

"Yuy is a hardheaded idiot," Zechs muttered. "I'd rather have him on board than have him go his own way and compromise the mission."

"I know that you know that Heero won't compromise anything or anyone. And is that worry for his welfare that I sense from you?

"I'm not worried about him."

A smile played at the corners of her mouth. "Of course not."

"I'm worried about what we'll find once we get to the transmission point. I'm worried about Relena. I'm not worried about a goddamn maniac with a death wish."

"Things have changed since Libra. He's not the same person he was ten years ago. It seems that he has found something to live for," Noin mused, looking at him from the corner of her eye. "You of all people should know that he doesn't start something that he can't finish. He'll bring your sister back. You just have to trust him."

Zechs grunted in annoyance. He would never admit it, but he actually already did.

"They've never really told me why they took me," Relena said as she put her hair up in a bun. The quarters didn't have a mirror, so it took time for her to secure the pins. "At first, I thought they wanted to kill me because I knew too much about the embezzlement. But now…"

Dorothy sat on the bed in her engineer's track suit. "These are disgruntled soldiers, Relena. You prying into their operations is just the tip of the iceberg. They've been unhappy all these years, and in the end, it has come to this," she sighed. "It's not that I don't agree with dismantling military forces, but as I've said before, 'You can't do away with wars simply by taking weapons from the people. You first have to change the hearts of mankind.'"

Relena saw the barely hidden bitterness in her eyes, and she could feel the familiar sense of discontent rise in her chest.

"I've been trying, Dorothy," she said, picking up a cap from a nearby table. "I still believe that pacifism is the answer to violence, that kindness can overturn anger. Resistance doesn't need to be marred by bloodshed. But my words and actions may not be enough for these soldiers. I may not be enough." She put the cap on, securing in the bun and tipping it down to avoid Dorothy's gaze. "Sometimes, I wonder if I'm doing right by anyone. The people on this base—they're here because at some point, I've failed them."

"But you're not perfect, Relena," the other woman said, dropping the honorific. "And no one thinks you should be. Peace should not be a burden you alone should carry."

"You'd be surprised," she let out a tired chuckle. "When my efforts are less than the excellence they expect, it seems that these things tend to happen more often." It wasn't even narcissism to think that her sway over ESUN's policies have major repercussions in the Earth Sphere, and as many politicians know this, most rely on her and her decisions on matters that are often beyond her job description. She wasn't complaining—she had always been willing to help in any way she could—but sometimes, it felt that the burden was all her own. And in the off-chance that policies would crumble…

"Failing costs lives, Dorothy," she said. "But it seems that it's all I've been doing recently."

The other woman remained silent, and Relena shook her head to dismiss her ramblings. "I'm sorry, I don't know where all that came from." She smiled from beneath the shadow of her cap. "Well, if we're going to do this, we better get going. We might not have enough time to send Preventer a message."

She was about to leave the room when Dorothy touched her shoulder. Half-turning, she was met by an honest gaze.

"Don't lose sight of what's important."

Relena blinked, surprised at the sudden show of concern. She gave the hand that held her a gentle pat. "Thank you, Dorothy."

The other woman nodded, before her glacial eyes turned mischievous. "It seems that the current ESUN president is a bit of a prick. Maybe I should run against him in the next elections?"

"Are you serious?" She laughed.

The door slid open as Dorothy walked past her. "I'll take that as a challenge, Ms. Relena."

The corridors were dim and quiet. Dorothy had her guards temporarily disable the security cameras, but to be sure, she motioned Relena to keep to the walls. When they were clear of the residential wing of the base, they allowed themselves to walk casually through the passageways, keeping their faces down, nodding to personnel they would come across. It seemed that the disguises worked—nobody noticed anything out of the ordinary.

Dorothy checked the signal reading on her phone. Just a little further.

It was a long walk, and it would have been nerve-wrecking if she was doing it the first time. Oh yes, Dorothy Catalonia has had many misadventures, and they'd make for an interesting read—maybe she could pay someone to turn her life into a book. She filed that thought in her head for future reference.

She could already hear the sounds of construction from around the corner; metal clanging against metal, the whirring of gears, the commands shouted to the crew working the floor. It seemed to be busier than usual, and Dorothy could feel tension and anticipation in the air—which mean they had little time to make their move.

The two made a sharp left, once again with their back to the shadowed walls, until they reached a door.

"This is it," Dorothy whispered. "The signals are way off the charts."

"What about the passcode?" Relena asked and she rolled her eyes in amusement.

"Like I told you, you worry too much." She flipped open the keypad by the entryway and tapped in the numbers. "827543. Why do you think I was in Kraz' office when you came in?"

The door opened with a soft hiss—no one has even updated the access—and the two warily made their way in the dim enclave. The panel shut behind them.

It seemed to be a communications and monitor room, complete with huge displays and various controls. There were thick cables strewn on the floor and what seemed to be makeshift pods that were very out of place. In the far end of the room was one singular monitor that flickered, showing footage of mobile suits flying through space.

"Do you hear that?" Relena whispered.

Dorothy listened and perceived soft moaning and labored breathing.

"It's coming from there," she said, walking softly towards where the monitor's light flickered on a pod where an emaciated man sat. His head was in a helm and his fingers capped by what seemed to be motion sensors that blinked rapidly as his hands involuntarily moved.

Relena kneeled before the man, taking off her cap to see better. "Is this… is this Kraz?"

"Impossible," Dorothy breathed. "We saw him die."

She looked back at the monitor and watched the mobile suits—Virgo IIs—zip through the space of what seemed to be a ruined colony veneered by floating junk, and it was then that she realized what the erratic red signal was, and that they might have already been too late.

"Ms. Relena, this isn't canned footage," she said in a low tone. "It's happening right now."

The other woman stood up. "What do you mean?"

"He's controlling them," she answered. "It's the Zero System."

The door slid open. Dull light spilled in to reveal a very unsurprised Sylvia.

"Of course I'd find you here." She lazily pointed a gun at them. "Well, at least at least I didn't need to drag you."

"What is the meaning of this, Sylvia?" Relena's voice rang out. "Mobile suits? Why would you resort to this?"

"Is this the part where the villain explains the entire plot?" She laughed. "Very well. Do you know why I spared you?"

Dorothy did. She understood it now. Why didn't she see it right away? "Because you know that I used the Zero System in the Eve Wars. You need me to pilot your mobile dolls."

Sylvia raised her eyebrows as she walked towards the monitors. "Wow, I am impressed. Yes, that's exactly why I wanted to you here. You're pretty smart, but easy to lure. I know how much you despise these factories, and how you've tried dismantling them by infiltrating them then reporting them to Preventer."

Dorothy bit her lips. How long has this woman been tracking her?

"Oh yes, and that man running tests on the dolls is Kraz. He's almost dead, so you'll replace him."

"How could that be him if you already killed him earlier?"

"Oh, that guy." The woman laughed. "That wasn't really Kraz. Just an old, disfigured veteran who didn't mind getting what's left of his face grafted into Marcus Kraz'. When we were starting out, we needed a mole in ESUN that wouldn't be linked to me, and we needed the real Kraz' brains. Did you know that he was a brilliant tactician before becoming a politician?"

"How could you?" Relena whispered, horrified.

"No, Ms. Foreign Minister. How could you." Sylvia said as she turned on the rest of the monitors in the room. "You've coddled the Gundam pilots—the likes of Heero Yuy—while blatantly disregarding the rest of the soldiers you ordered disarmed."

"I haven't—"

"Oh but you have. Just look at how many of them here are willing to get back into war because you've left them out to dry?"

"I know I'm lacking," Relena said, her voice low but clear. "I know I haven't done enough. But this isn't the right way to fix things, Sylvia. There must be a better way to help—"

"Wait, did you think that the reason for all this is because I'm fighting for veteran rights?" Sylvia laughed. "No, no, Ms. Relena, it's more personal than that." She flipped the main monitor on.

"I'm here for revenge."

Dorothy felt her eyes grow wide as the static cleared and the screen displayed silhouettes of the ultimate weapons of war.

"Gundams."

Two of the famous five stood before her in a frighteningly beautiful display of wings and blades. Wing Zero and Sandrock were copied to near-perfection that she half-expected that the suits would move on their own volition.

For the first time in a long time, Dorothy was frightened.

"They're impressive, but they aren't perfect, since we don't have the brilliance of the people who originally made them," Sylvia said, marveling at her own creations. "And they're only partially paneled with Gundanium alloy since the money for the whole stock didn't come in on time," she gave Dorothy a dirty look. "Wing Zero and Sandrock are the only two that are currently fully functional, but imagine what the people would do when they see them again. Imagine what kind of revolution these would incite. So much for the fictitious peace that killed my grandfather."

"You won't be able to force Heero to fight," Relena seethed. "You can't force any of them to go back to that kind of life."

"Who said I needed Heero Yuy?" The woman smiled, pointing the gun at her. "Sit."

Realization quickly dawned on Dorothy: the Gundams were dolls. "You're not going not going to let her pilot Wing Zero!"

"Oh I am and she will, or I'll kill her, and maybe Heero Yuy will kill himself when he finds out she's dead. I've always wanted him to suffer. Sit down, Relena Darlian."

Dorothy moved towards Sylvia but stopped when she cocked the gun at Relena's head. "I'm serious about killing her if you move one more inch, Catalonia. You'll get your turn. Now be a good girl and watch."

There was defiance in Relena's eyes even as she sat on one of the pods. "You don't have the power to make me do anything."

"I don't. But the Zero System does."

Relena gasped when the pod automatically folded around her, the helm moving to cover her eyes as the machine fitted her fingers with sensors.

Dorothy could feel the panic rise in her chest. The Zero System was unforgiving even to the original Gundam pilots—it stripped you of your humanity, before turning you into a mindless instrument of war. It showed you your past, your present, and all the probabilities of your future, killing those who mattered and those who didn't again and again, revealing a thousand ways to die before you succumbed to the madness, and once you did the pictures in your head never truly went away.

She had it easy. The probabilities she had seen using Zechs' iteration were almost limited to the actions of the dolls she held in her control—they had to be or the program would be impossible to utilize. But for someone like Relena to dive into a crude copy of Zero…

"She'll die, Sylvia!"

"That's the point, then she'll take Heero with her. Keep up, Dorothy," the woman said, switching on the base's comms. "Captain, prepare to drop."

"Yes ma'am!"

Loud hazard sirens signaled the countdown. From the monitors, Dorothy saw the eyes of Wing Zero blink rapidly in bright blue, and in her chair, Relana gasped as she tried to reach up to pull the helm off even as the sensors held her hands down. She lunged, choking, her voice rough and incoherent, as the Gundam before them jerked forward. The floor moved beneath it, preparing to drop it off into space.

"I might as well test Sandrock," said Sylvia, handing Dorothy her gun. "You can kill me now, and then kill her. It's up to you. My job here is done. I've just given Heero no other recourse than to finish her off. I mean, this is much more fun than just shooting him dead, right?" The woman walked to another pod. "Destroy her Gundam or pull her off the simulation, and her brain probably won't take it. Unless of course, she masters the system. Or finishes her mission. And what a fabulous mission it would be."

Before the woman could even sit, Dorothy grabbed her by her hair and clocked her head with the butt of the gun, pushing her towards the door and throwing her out even as she felt her fingernails carve the skin off on her arms. She shut the door and cancelled all access codes, dropping the weapon and running to the monitors.

There was smoke and the loud scraping of old, worn-out gears. From somewhere, a siren blared, and Wing Zero dropped.

Dorothy ran to Sylvia's pod. She didn't know what she was doing, but she sure as hell wouldn't allow Relena to finish this suicide mission. She had met Zero before. She can handle it again.

The pod folded around her and muted the sound of Relena's guttural screams.

They saw the suits a few ways past Dorothy's last transmission point. Their movements were erratic, allowing Midway's guns to quickly down a dozen in quick succession.

It's been years since Quatre had found himself in such a situation, years since his mind processed the ugly subtleties of war. With a trained eye, he knew that the Virgo IIs that flew towards them were dolls, and weakly programmed ones at that. "Real pilots don't move that way," he murmured.

From behind him, Zechs gave the order to deploy. The Midway's shields came up, and in minutes he could see Preventer's Tauruses zoom before the vessel, methodically scrapping Virgos IIs that came their way. It seemed that the dolls weren't even using their defensive advantage.

Beside him, Duo shook his head. "You have got to be kidding me. We were all worked up by this?"

"That's just the first wave. Look."

More suits were flying towards them. "They seem to be coming from an uninhabited colony," Wufei said, his fingers running over the console. "L4 V0732."

"Plot a course for it," intoned Zechs. "This number of suits means that it's a working factory."

"Second wave," Quatre called out as he watched the skirmishes. Already, there was a difference in the way they moved, as if they were slowly figuring out what their pilots would do next. It's as if they're testing these machines on us.

Trowa folded his arms over his chest. "They're learning. This isn't good."

Explosions brightened the monitor as Preventer once again dominated the field. There were a few moments of stillness, before streaks of light appeared in the distance.

"Third," Heero ominously said.

In a short span of time, the squadrons of Virgo IIs have begun to learn how Preventer pilots moved, and the latter were soon taking hits. Quatre bit the insides of his mouth. This seemed to be a rough iteration of the Zero System, and since it didn't have enough data to predict enemy movements, it was learning as it went. What was frightening was how fast it did.

"They actually did it. They actually created their own Zero System," Duo echoed his thoughts. "But who's piloting these dolls?"

"It doesn't matter," Heero said. "We have to destroy every one of them."

Quatre glanced at the man. He could feel his impatience, and he couldn't blame him. Relena was somewhere in that colony, and the more time they spend skirmishing with the Virgos, the more dangerous the situation became for her.

A Preventer Taurus barely dodged one Virgo's beam saber, splicing off one of its arms. From the other side were explosions—some of which were too close for comfort.

The pilots' comms were starting to get chaotic.

"We better get out there," noted Trowa.

"I'm coming with you." He faced Zechs, "Do we have your permission?"

The other man nodded. "Be careful."

"Don't worry!"

As he ran to the flight station, Quatre couldn't help but feel dread rising in his chest. Dorothy had not been able to send any other message after giving him her location, and it could only mean that she and Relena couldn't find a transmitter powerful enough to do so, or something went horribly wrong.

"I'm worried, Trowa," he said, as he boarded his Taurus. "I know the situation is bad, but I can't shake off the feeling that it's going to take a turn for the worse."

"Which is why we're here. We're not going allow it to get worse." Trowa's voice was soft but firm over the speakers. "Flight station to Bridge, we're moving out with Squadron 2."

"Roger."

Quatre felt the momentary sensation of weightlessness as he led the Taurus out the Midway, before he kicked in the thrusters and g-force pressed him back to his seat. It was no Gundam, but he had to admit that he almost felt a rush of animal excitement as his body automatically remembered the hold of a mobile suit. He shook the feeling away, reminding himself of the reality that being in one meant being in war, and if he could help it, he was done with war.

He led the machine to bum rush the newly deployed Virgos. Over comms, he could hear one of the Preventer pilots slightly panic.

"Condor to—heck Mr. Winner, do you even have a callsign? Don't fly into the—"

But he had already activated the beam saber, weaving past several suits and leaving explosions at his wake.

"Holy shit!"

"Just call me Quatre, Condor," he radioed. "We've never really had any use for callsigns back in the day."

He could hear Trowa chuckle under his breath.

Between the two of them, they made easy work of the mobile suits as the rest of the squadron chattered their barely hidden amazement. Thankfully, no one had yet put two-and-two together.

Still, the third wave was a far cry from how the first had performed, and Quatre knew the next would be much tougher. He gripped the control sticks tighter. He was not about to accept any losses from their end, what with four Taurses already called back by Noin.

"We're nearing the colony," Zechs' voice filtered through the speakers. "We might as well avoid these skirmishes and infiltrate—"

"Wait."

It was Heero who spoke, and as he did, Quatre saw more streaks of light from afar, only to be snuffed out by consecutive blasts.

His sensors came to life, reading a large object coming their way. Looking up at the HUD, he felt his throat go dry, and over comms, Duo's voice came in.

"You have got to be kidding me."

Emerging from the explosions were winged-shaped thrusters firing forward to boost the lethal form of Wing Zero.

There was stunned silence on the bridge and a scramble of voices over comms.

"Is that a Gundam?"

"I thought they were gone!"

"Why would a Gundam team up with these terrorists?"

But as soon as the words were spoken, Wing Zero charged into a line of Virgos, slashing them with its beam sword. Its movements were rough and erratic, as if it didn't know what to do next, and its eyes continuously flickered blue.

"What the fuck is going on?" Duo exclaimed. "Why is it attacking its own team? Hell, how could they have built a Gundam? They don't have the data!"

"Hail the pilot," ordered Noin.

"We can't get the frequency Ma'am," a female crew member answered.

"Try again!"

Wing Zero then turned its attention to him and Trowa.

"Oh no."

The Gundam zoomed towards them with its sword flashing. Quatre and Trowa easily dodged the attack, sharply turning as they peppered it with artillery. Unfazed, its veneers lit up as they thrusted the machine forward, and this time around, Trowa took an aim at it with his beam canon.

"This will hurt."

"No!"

Quatre's sensors went wild as a scream echoed over comms and a mobile suit rammed into both him and Trowa just as the Wing Zero flew past. The impact propelled the Taurus forward and he quickly powered the thrusters to shoot up, aiming his own beam canon at the other suit only to pause in shock.

It was Sandrock.

The melee-type Gundam placed itself between Wing Zero and Quatre, shotels on ready.

"Don't," came a garbled but unmistakable voice.

"Dorothy?" He asked quietly. "What's going on?"

"I had no choice. Don't hurt her."

"Hurt who?" He almost exclaimed. "Who's piloting Wing Zero?"

She gasped, as if something was causing her physical pain.

"It's Ms. Relena."

To be continued

Next Chapter: An unbridled spiral into madness