AN: I've been developing this for a while and I am ashamed to say, I have had this sitting on my computer for too long. My schedule for updating is sporadic, but I have developed a significant amount to this story.
Chapter 1: The Seventh and Eighth Scientists (The Missing Scientists)
August, After Colony 196
The sun shined brilliantly over the city of Tanaka, Japan, reflecting its light off the myriad of windowpanes in captivating iridescence, bathing the city in a golden glow. The sun was at its zenith, and its intensity and breath stretched throughout the city, a lingering and uncomfortable current of heat that clung to one's skin. It was an exceptionally warm summer's day of August that many of the city's denizens were out and about, laughing freely and enjoying the afternoon's warmth. A remedy to the enclosed office spaces and floors that imprisoned workers to routine and responsibility.
People crowded walkways and streets overflowed with extroverted sightseers, itinerant residents, and sharply dressed businesspersons, travelling to their respective destinations in an ocean of noise and color that did not appear to thin but swell as the day grew on. The noise of the crowd and the traffic-filled streets echoed loudly, and most resoundingly, in local hotspots. At this time of day, people gathered around shops and cafes chatting amiably with locals and listening and watching various street performers drumming a storm of sound and moving rhythmically under the enthused eyes of passersby.
At one of the busy cafes in the heart of the city, juxtaposing a congested intersection that expelled angry honks and expletives, under a red-and-white-striped parasol, at a white circular table, sat a sixteen-year- old young man named Heero Yuy. Heero was gazing thoughtfully into his laptop, a calloused hand tucked under his chin and the other gripping his beverage. His messy brown bangs cascaded over his face, lightly kissing his newly tanned skin that glowed golden under the sun's care. He was clothed in a white buttoned-down shirt tucked into a pair of slim fitting blue jeans that ran down to his black booted feet.
His Prussian blue eyes watched his screen, although, they would flicker to an open quad across the intersection from time to time where children were playing joyfully in one of the city's fountains. Their carefree attitude and boisterous laughter as they frolicked in the water aroused many passersby, who, abruptly, stopped and watched this spectacle. They looked on the children with something akin to wonder and awe on their smiling faces. For Heero, it had been years since he heard a child's precocious jubilation. To some of the watchers, hailing from the colonies or some war-torn Earth province, they had probably felt the same he did, watching children at play.
The silence and fear from war had deafened such interactions.
Such normality, such joy was abnormal. This laughing and carefree air – Heero was not accustomed to seeing activities like this. Encounters with children his age during the Alliance's oppression and occupation in the colonies was minimal, restricted to observing and reconnaissance. To say he had a childhood would be the biggest understatement of his short life. His life had been carved from blood and broken by war.
Respite from the cruelties of the world did not exist, not even for young, rebellious children. So, the natural sight of children at play was foreign, an alien thing to him. It was like looking at something irregular in a normal day – or maybe he was the irregular who hadn't quite grasped the concept of "normality" and "regular".
It should have been normal, for him, for everyone, but that was not the world he grew up in. The world he grew up in was filled with a repeating pattern of anger, chaos, revenge, regret, and death, where people clung to and killed life. This peaceful scene before him, presented like a dream of paradise outside the atmosphere of fear or suspicion, was the world he and his fellow veterans had created: through their bodies, sweat, tears, and blood.
A land of peace. A land of hope. A land of beginning dreams and reason where rational minds fought tooth and nail keep a scarred world clean and protected from threats wanting to dip their hands in the blood of innocents.
He stared at the scene, his mind faraway, when a sudden noise blasted in Heero's ears, catching him by surprise. The raucous noise broke him away from his thoughts, and he quickly lifted his eyes to the disturbance, finding it moving down the street. A black Sudan rolled by him slowly, blocking his view of the children in the fountain. Its windows were tinted and closed, but its music was deafening and indecipherable as its bass thrummed miniature earthquakes in its wake.
Ignoring the pulsating beats that rattled the streets and windows as the car pulled away, Heero returned his gaze to his laptop. He reviewed any news-related sites and headings. His line of sight lingered on two pages, personal subjects of interest, superimposed on his screen about the demilitarization of armaments and the missing colony, Colony X-18999 in L1.
The first headline read: ESUN AMBASSADOR DORLIAN WINS ANOTHER ONE FOR GLOBAL PEACE! The latest disarmament happened earlier in the morning at a former Earth Alliance mobile suit factory at the North American, San Francisco plant, Metalworks. Officials planned to convert the factory into a material resource plant for the growing space colonies, to improve greater relations before the first anniversary of the formation of the Earth Sphere Unified Nations.
It would be a step forward in the right direction, thought Heero, knowing the distant relationship between the new nations could only separate, remain constant, or coalesce into something new. Heero found the appeal worthwhile. It was better than the previous animosity and suspicion that had played the year before. The world needed to change, and it now had to be done by the people themselves instead of using soldiers like him.
This factory would be a godsend for the colonies. The older colonies were dilapidated and falling into disrepair from over a century of use and needed reconstruction. Their outer frame was corroding and sections that supported gravitational stabilization were outdated and had fallen behind the times. The lack of funding, even with the cease of control from the Alliance and OZ, who had rerouted funds to strengthen their military presence in space and their coffers, still affected colony growth. Compared to the newer colonies, the older ones lacked enterprise and investment.
A picture of the one responsible for the change and negotiations was superimposed on the screen as she shook hands with the CEO of Metalworks. Dressed stylishly in a white dress suit, long blond hair swept in an elegant ponytail tied by a blue blow, Vice-Foreign Minister Relena Darlian, former Queen Relena Peacecraft of the Earth Sphere Unified Nations, stood firm and resolute in the picture. Her diplomatic presence reminded Heero of her stepfather, the deceased Vice-Foreign Minister of the United Earth Sphere Alliance, Martin Darlian. They both possessed an inner fire that shined brightly through adversity, an unrelenting fortitude that could demolish any fortification to rubble.
Relena was a strong person.
Heero believed this wholeheartedly. He was convinced by her very nature, a bold and compassionate personality that thrived under adversity and hardship. She had come a long way from the naïve and obsessive child to the young, astute, and courageous woman performing on the world stage, lighting up political battlefields with words and actions, and persuading nations and corporations to embrace peace and pacifism. Heero could remember quite fondly how her words had impacted him; how people, enthralled by her charisma had surrounded her like a small fire bringing light into the world, chasing the haunting darkness to its edges.
Relena was a natural-born leader and Heero was proud of her accomplishments, which, inadvertently, had kept her extremely busy – and away from him.
Heero had not seen Relena since the end of the Eve Wars and the conflict with Perfect Peace. Her work, always a constant in the placid sea and storms of politics, had taken her to new battlefields of diplomacy that continued bridging the divide between outer space and the Earth. She was in search of new plateaus of peace and cooperation, devoted to the promotion of bridging and building relations that had been fraught by distance and oppression. It was a miracle that peace could be attained, let alone the call for total pacificism, but with the greatest war of their age finished, many felt the spirit of war shift.
Whether that was a good or bad thing time would decide – and time had funny way of deciding fate.
It came as no surprise to Heero that Relena was beyond his sight, when communication and distance had taken over, knowing that she was tethered to the good of humanity. It was like the gulf between Earth and the moon. Of course, a shuttle ride there would close the distance, but one had to be on board, and neither seemed to have the time.
The future had unceremoniously come and swept them in different directions, aimed for the betterment of humanity, but set them on different roads. These roads did not seem to intersect, and Heero had found himself absently wishing they did. And yet, roads never mattered to Heero. He would abolish them, rid them, or take another route off the beaten trail to find his way to any target. His will was inevitable.
So, why had he not? Why had he chosen to slink away from Relena, a cowardly move, then chance a surprise meetup?
Heero knew the answer, but was determined play aloof and remain estranged, even to his own feelings. He knew how his presence still and continued to affect her. How her sky-blue eyes would light up, a smile burgeoning on blinding, that would have set her face aglow. How she would softly whisper his name, holding an emotion in her voice that sent arrows of fire into his cold heart.
Those feelings had called to him once, tumbling his frigid walls created from brutal discipline, but he had purposefully set them aside.
Relena was now in the good hands of those that yearned for the betterment of the world. Heero doubted she could extricate herself from her work. He withheld held a burgeoning sigh; she was very much like him in that way, compelled to finish a job at all costs and just as obstinate to a chosen path. Maybe his stubbornness had inadvertently rubbed off on her.
However, one had to be stubborn to persist in world of decaying hope.
Fortunately, or unfortunately for Heero, he did not have to be her dark knight anymore; her silent rescuer when enemies of peace declared her obsolete. The Preventers would fill that void. Knowing the Preventers and its capable leaders - Lady Une, Noin, and Wufei – Heero could rest easy. The protection of the world and its new peace was held by those willing to preserve humanity's virtues. He did not have to fight anymore – which Heero had found a lot harder than he would admit.
Heero had been on the battlefield for a long time.
The battlefield, at one point, was his only purpose; fighting, grinding, humping, storming, driving, pushing, hating, regretting, killing – these actions were embedded in the very nature of his being, and disengaging from those experiences was difficult. The dissonance was magnified in this era of peace. It could drive a man mad to separate a part of his soul that had been through the muck of chaos and death. If Heero was being poetic, he could say his soul was still bound to those times, chained in a never-ending, warring struggle of perpetuality.
Some days were good, even spectacular. Others were terrible, like the earth collapsing from under him. There were days where no good thoughts could pierce the veil of his tragedies. He had wallowed in them until he was ready to continue to fight, to move forward.
Conversely, he was trying to progress from his former life and do away from the manacles of war and soldiering.
He had enrolled in one of Tanaka city's esteemed colleges, double majoring in aerospace and computer engineering and minoring in philosophy, to contribute to humanity's progression into space. As a Spacenoid, he felt dutybound to the Earth and to space, built on the legacy of those before him. Compared to life before, it was the life of an ordinary and banal civilian.
Certainly, college life had its challenges – long sleepless nights, banal rivalries between classmates, intimidated college professors, taxing mathematical and astrophysical equations that spanned days – but, as usual, he took it all on his shoulders and easily managed his way. The throes of civilian life were nothing. The hours of sleepless nights were trivial in comparison to struggling as a freedom fighter.
Heero enjoyed peace, but it did leave him uneasy. He held a secret yearning, he compartmentalized, for his former life. Peace was a new experience for him, a new battleground that remained unconquered, and he was still trying to find the right weapon to assuage this unease, the right tactic to go about this new journey. Normality was its own battlefield, and it seemed to have its own treacherous obstacles to navigate.
For hidden within the gentle soul of Heero Yuy was the past of an assassin and a freedom fighter. Those occupations were his life, his valuable tools to remedy and change the world. His guardian as a child had formed him. Dekim Barton's colony revolutionaries had trained and shaped him. And the war, his war, was his teacher and greatest trial. To truly let go of soldiering, to let it fade into the background of obscurity, called for him to give up the one thing that gave his life meaning: Fighting.
Heero fought for a cause bigger than himself. He fought for himself. He fought to stay alive. He fought for revenge. He fought against tyranny. He fought for outer space, his home, the colonies. He fought numerous losing battles. He fought redundant battles. He fought against destiny. He fought for humanity. He fought to his last breath. He even fought for love, for Relena.
The teen sighed deeply, pursing his lips together in irritation. He should not be thinking those counterproductive thoughts. Heero disliked the feeling of missing the war, but he somehow felt helpless without the throes of battle. To fully extricate himself from battle, when he missed those arduous days of fighting, of being in combat amongst his comrades, feeling the addicting burst of adrenaline course through his veins, was a blow to his self.
Nothing could compare or surpass those days. Not even these monotonous days of traversing in peace that seemed to replicate in a never-ending pattern of routine. The banality of peace for warriors was obsoletion. Death was more appreciated for death was a finality, not an ongoing battle for relevance.
"But those days are over," Heero whispered to himself as the sound of people resounded around him, moving past him in streams, never stopping, eyes forward like boxes on a conveyor belt.
He had said these words numerous of times, reminding himself over and over that the world did not need him anymore. He was a civilian, let those who have power, the beneficiaries of this new world, guide them to a new era of peace. He had relinquished his duties to those that could, albeit reluctantly.
Being normal, a civilian, was strange but he would try, for Relena's sake. She meant more to him than she would know. However, he was still dissatisfied with his placement in this new role. He felt insecure, his hands and mind restless, waiting for something, anything to happen; to take bold action; and the demons that haunted his past did not make socialization any better. In fact, they appeared to him in the night, when he drifted to sleep.
Sometimes sleeping was impossible.
Heero would be up all-night thinking: of people long gone, of dying men and women he held in his arms, of the innocents he had killed, of battlefields and their untold and roaring chaos and sorrow. When he had finally found respite from his ponderous thoughts, he would wake in a cold sweat, shivering, looking for his weapon – any weapon – that would silence the familiar silhouettes and stirrings of battle and leave him in peace. In a cacophony of erratic heartbeats and guttural moans, sleep sometimes never came to him; it was elusive.
Feeling the need to change his current thought, Heero then moved to the second headline of the day. THE DISAPPEARANCE OF COLONY X-18999! the headline read. This article had Heero on edge all day. A colony had gone missing under Preventer watch was outstanding. Something like this, he was sure, should have never happened.
Heero clicked the video clip of the article. A brown-haired reporter appeared, along with the background of space behind her. "This is Colony News reporter Eves Laurence. Behind me here" – she pointed to the background of the stars of outer space – "in Lagrange-1, should be Colony X-18999. As you can see, nothing is here but the stars. Within the last 24 hours of its sudden disappearance, the missing colony has sparked grave trepidation among the colony nations and the ESUN.
"Many feared that the colony could have moved from its geostationary orbit though conflicting reports have invalidated that theory. Others claim the colony self-destructed, but there is no sign of wayward debris or wreckage as an indicator. We have asked the ESUN's Preventer's spokeswoman for more information. She said and I quote, 'This is a high-level investigation, and we are using our global networks to find out about its disappearance.' End quote.
"She remained tightlipped about any operations and not disclosing any information after numerous questionings for more transparent disclosure. Colony News had tried to reach out to the colony's main financial backer, the Barton Foundation. Regrettably, they could not be reached. Whatever has happened to this colony and its people, this is an alarming situation for the colonies. Eves Laurence, Colony News."
Heero sat back in his chair and stared thoughtfully at the screen. There was more to this story, from the colony's disappearance to its financial funder, Dekim Barton. That name made Heero shiver with anger. It felt like an age-old fury rearing its head up in search of destruction.
Colony X-18999. Thinking of that colony gave Heero bad memories. Heero had history with the colony, terrible history that dredged up immutable and unforgivable nightmares. Nightmares that continued to this day to haunt his dreams.
He remembered, because the past formed his choices and the choices of others, how his life had shifted from becoming an orphan to meeting Doctor J. He remembered, and it flashed in his mind, the dead body of his guardian, shot through the chest by a sniper. Doctor J, finding him in the rain and offering him a simple choice. The disaster of his choice that befell innocents. And finally, Barton's reconditioning, making him more weapon than man.
What was the Barton Foundation doing now? he asked himself internally, frowning, as his eyes listlessly read the text on the page.
Certainly, Operation M had failed, Heero and his comrades had made sure of it; and with Quinze's death from the White Fang, Heero thought all operations had surceased. It seemed the Barton Foundation had its hand in something insidious. Something dangerous was afoot, and it left Heero wary for the future.
Could it be another Operation M? Heero suddenly thought, the back of his neck hairs standing as if a bolt of electricity shocked him.
"It would be plausible," Heero said after a moment of rumination, but he then threw it away. The colony, he realized, would still be moving in the Earth's sphere. Such an occurrence of a colony changing its current geosynchronous equatorial orbit, unless of external dangers like debris or asteroids, was rare. A move like this could mean –
"Hey!"
A male voice broke Heero out his thoughts. He shifted his gaze onto three young men who stood nervously in front of him, in bright colorful jerseys and shorts. A nervous air surrounded the trio. A black-haired teen with a wide face stepped forward timidly, his expression open and closed at the same time. Heero noticed the tight expressions of the other two right away. It was the look of fear.
"Hey, you're Heero Yuy, right? You played at last night's street b-ball game. Would you be up for a short session with us?" the black-haired teen asked, loosely holding a basketball between his digits.
Heero eyed the teens calmly, capturing their nervous dispositions in his gaze. Maybe the ice barrier between him and his peers was finally melting, giving way to burgeoning friendships. Maybe his countenance had become less frightening if the boys before him wanted a friendly game. Besides his love of sports, Heero had pushed himself to comingle in team sports like basketball.
Heero had always had a love of sports: fencing, basketball, shooting, equestrian, martial arts, track and field, and swimming. Sports kept him busy, kept him fit and reactive, but they also forced him to work with people. Those that knew Heero knew he was a solitary guy – doing things – anything – by himself was a personal choice. He preferred his own rules.
When he competed in team sports, he was able to give helpful pointers and build some form of comradery around his teammates. And yet that comradery mainly stayed within the team. When practice was done, he was gone. He forewent social activities with team members to spend time with himself.
He declined invitations to aftergame parties to monitor the world in his room. Duo would have been catatonic at his refusals, probably saying his antisocial behavior had become a crutch. Heero saw it differently.
These people did not know his struggle, did not know depths of pain and endurance he had undergone just to see the light of day. These people were innocent to the enduring truths of hardship, the life experienced when fighting for one's life meant the death of thousands if not millions if he failed. They could not relate or comprehend the magnitude – or believe him for that matter - and Heero would rather not regal them as a veteran of Operation Meteor and the Eve Wars.
They were normal. The only challenging thing these kids ever faced was a death in the family or an ill relative. These people… these people…
"Um, yeah, I don't think it'll be the best time," the youth said hurriedly, and Heero blinked, as the teen received affirming nods from his friends, before he and his friends fled the vicinity swiftly.
Heero stared quietly at their departure, feeling nothing. It was not the first time that this had happened, and he was sure it would not be the last. He was a quiet person, and his aloofness and seemingly clairvoyant eyes did not draw-in friends. Would-be friends fled like being chased by a monster.
A monster birthed by intimidation, he thought as he stared at their backs until the amorphous crowd swallowed them.
Some of his classmates liked him, though, Heero noticed they kept their distance as if he contained a contagious pathogen. They admired him, gossiped about the mystery of him, but none of them wanted to get to know him like his fellow pilots and Relena, whom circumstance brought them together.
And yet Heero was fine with that. He did not need friends like them. He lived in solitary, and that was by choice, not force. He enjoyed living and being alone.
Heero took another sip from his beverage. He hoped to relax more before this day turned even odder, but he couldn't. The world was in danger, and he could do nothing but ponder his plans for future missions in the safety of a peaceful city. A few hours had passed as he remained at the cafe, the sun, now, looming over the horizon, had covered most of the area in evening, clearing a path for encroaching shadows that threatened to leave him in darkness. Feeling his time was up, Heero stood, packed his belongings in his dark brown satchel, and proceeded to walk home.
XXX
The walk home was a quiet one for Heero. Luminescent night lights sparked into existence, one by one by one as if it were a call to arms, to ready the transition into night. Cars and buses thundered down streets in a symphony of red and white blazing lights. People were still idling about, enjoying the summer weather and the lightness of the day that still defended against the early hours of night.
The city never slept, and it was one reason Heero had settled there. Besides the college, the city was always in motion. Like a living organism, its internal network thrived on people instead of blood. People from all over came and made the city's arteries clogged, its train stations packed, and the streets crowded. The city was ceaseless in its excitement and remained abuzz twenty-four seven.
Heero liked the crowds and the motion. It was a place to feel and get lost in, to drift in the endless sea of bodies like schools of fish. No one knew him and no one could spot him in the throngs unless moving against the current of the crowds. He was, in a sense, a nameless face in a sea of millions.
Heero made his way down Takemoto Street, to a residential building that towered with its siblings over the long, winding street. It was as it should be: rows of parked cars, in the shadows of towers and high-rises, resting from their morning journeys. His eyes swept over them with practiced ease, looking through windows and past seats, as yellow lights from lampposts splashed along their metallic bodies like an aura. It was a simple and automatic routine.
The blue, white, red, gray, yellow, and black vehicles slumbered on, unmoved, uncaring, and waiting. As his eyes glided over the vehicles, they lingered on a specific one. There was a new vehicle in the mix, tucked neatly away with the familiar black and red cars that filed in two single lines. It was positioned in a way that one might overlook it.
It was the black Sudan.
He knew this from its tinted windows he gleaned from its passing. He could only withhold another groan as it could only mean new college students moving in. The young adults were quite loud in their excitement and had the predilection for noisy music blaring all into the night. They certainly did liven up the city atmosphere with their youth, if only they could be kept away from drunkenly asking him out. He did not need to suffer another night of drunken confessions or sensual proposals (for that matter) dressed in perfumes of alcohol and lascivious gestures that aroused his annoyance rather than his libido.
Heero moved into the apartment complex and walked past the busy foyer. People were around, bags and suitcases in their hands or over their shoulders, a mesh of young faces filled with glee and joy as their parents proudly looked on. With a simple glance forward, he moved to the elevator, ignoring the concierge who tried getting his attention with a friendly wave. The elevator closed with a soft ring, rose, and then opened at the fifteenth floor. Removing his keys from his pocket, he opened his door at O-01.
Heero walked into his spacious loft. The room was quite large. It was a junior, four room plan that had one-bedroom unit with four separate rooms – a bedroom, kitchen, living room and another small room that could be used as an office or sleeping space. His place was sparsely decorated, including a wooden-circular dining table and a leather plush couch situated by a walled-built flat screen television. He put his keys on the table and moved to the open window.
The city lights danced in eclectic brilliance as the cacophony of people talking, vehicles honking and rolling, and music blaring rose to his floor level in musical dissonance. Even from this height, the restless city did not leave him alone. He rested his elbow on the windowsill, feeling the cool wind tread its fingers through his hair as his right hand moved to his pocket. A sudden noise caught his ear, and he plunged his hand into his pocket in one fluid motion and pulled out his handgun, training it on the figure behind him.
The figure standing before him was a young man impeccably dressed in a familiar navy-blue Preventer jacket and trousers tucked into blue single-zippered boots. The Preventer jacket was adorned in dark moss green shoulder stitching and had double breast zippered pockets. Underneath the man's Preventer jacket, he wore a lavender button-down shirt tucked inside his trousers with a skinny black tie and a black leather belt. On his hip sat an armed holster.
Looking to the man's face, a familiar grin was plastered on it. It annoyed Heero to no end. He wanted to break his face in - just between the eyes and one more punch into the gut. The satisfaction of hearing him grunt and collapse in pain would be well worth the effort, no matter the verbal barbs that would spew from the man's mouth.
The man seemed to understand what Heero was thinking by how his cobalt blue eyes shined in mirth and knowing and the way his grin stretched to eclipse his face. The man chuckled to himself, raking his hand through his unruly brown bangs, his long braid bouncing about his hip.
"Is that the proper way to greet a friend, ole buddy? No warm greetings or friendly smiles? Perhaps a brotherly hug between men? I get a loaded gun pointed at me, huh? A frightenin' greeting this turned out to be," the man said, his grin never leaving his face as Heero raised his sidearm to his face.
Heero turned the safety off and narrowed his eyes. If he just pulled the trigger, this annoyance would vanish forever.
"Of course, it is, friend," Heero responded coolly, his eyes sharp and his words precise. "You broke into my home. An unannounced and unwanted visit. And opened my window. This is a perfect self-defense against intruders."
The man chuckled. He waved a hand in his face like a fan. "Really?" he asked in an incredulous tone that bordered on humorous. "It was damn hot in here! I felt like I was in a sauna! I couldn't breathe. You could have at least opened a window or two – this place is spacious enough for that. You barely got anything in here as well. You ever heard of air conditioning or do you like baking inside a hot room?
"It's not like" – and the man looked over Heero's shoulder to the darkening city – "someone's gonna break in from where you're livin' at."
Heero snorted. Like you, he thought, but did not say aloud. He gave a tired sigh, flicked the safety on, and placed his firearm on the table. He leaned back against the windowsill. A delightful cool breeze caressed his neck. He crossed his arms mechanically, eyeing the man in suspicion.
"Why are you here, Duo? You got into another fight with Hilde? You know I'm not your therapist," Heero said to Duo Maxwell.
Duo smiled at the question under Heero's withering glare. "It's not that – and I know you're not. I don't come to you every time with my problems, ya know? I can manage that myself."
"Sure," Heero replied tersely, knowing the guy was not being completely honest.
Duo's romantic life with Hilde… Heero could not figure if they were romantic or platonic. With how independent they both were, love seemed to exist in an intermittent modality between the brief throes of passion when reunited and a certain companionship one values through comradery. When one missed the other, without contact, and through extended periods, expect a round of fearsome quarrels that left Heero's ears rattled from the volume.
"So, are you going to tell me why you're here, then?"
Duo's good-natured grin became grim, and Heero grew wary of the motives that brought Duo to his household. A darkening shadow spread across Duo's face, leaving only his mouth untouched in the reddish-orange dusk. Heero did not like the look. It could only mean trouble, or trouble had somehow found him.
"Heero, as much I usually like to make house calls, today is a very serious call," Duo said plainly.
"More so than the Gundam Circuit?" Heero asked.
The usual protocol for Gundam pilots after the Perfect Peace mission was to establish an encrypted social network for all the Gundam pilots – hence the Gundam Circuit – to keep in contact. The Circuit functioned to funnel top-secret information among the five and keep current on world and colony affairs. For Duo to make a house call meant something was seriously wrong in the world.
Duo nodded slowly. He moved to his hand to his pocket and pulled out a photo. "Heero, ya remember the original scientists of the OZ-00MS Tallgeese and the Gundams, right?"
Of course, he did. It was not hard for him to forget the eccentricities of the five – Mike Howard, Master O, Instructor H, Doktor S, Professor G, and most notably in his young life, Doctor J. Jay Null or as he preferred Doctor J, was the closest thing he had to an uncle. He was the most eccentric person Heero had ever met – and probably will ever meet – besides Treize Khushrenada.
Doctor J was the one who had found him and gave his life new purpose. He trained him under the auspices of Dekim Barton and the Barton Foundation. His training was brutal as it not only gave him the tools for war but recreated his body, changing his genes to something more than human. Doctor J was more than just a "doctor" of mechanical engineering and thermal energy, but he also earned his degrees in the medical field as a geneticist.
He gave Heero something more than anyone else, choice. He gave Heero the freedom to define his choices in life. Although that did not mean he still had ill feelings toward the deceased man. Heero knew the consequences of Doctor J's actions, understood it, and completely resented him for them. The old man and his colleagues had paid with their lives during the end of the war. It was a reciprocal end to the monstrosity they had constructed for the space battleship Libra.
Heero nodded and said, "I do."
With a flick from his fingers, the photo sailed to Heero. He snapped it out of the air and brought it before his eyes. A spark of recognition kindled in Heero, and his eyes brightened. Gazing at the people in it, he certainly remembered this photograph.
It was a picture Doctor J had in his office, sitting in a corner on his desk, his only memento besides the other junk piled on it. It was of him and the four other scientists at an Alliance factory. They all looked young and confident, with J having full use of his hands before one was blown off and replaced with an artificial limb; his eyes were electric blue and alive, not obscured by glasses that made him look more machine than man. The five of them were in a line behind what looked to be a white leg of the prototype Tallgeese.
"I'm sure you're not here to share your love for these old men, Duo," Heero remarked before placing the photograph on the table and giving Duo a pointed look.
"Hmph," Duo grunted, "I'd rather not think about them too much either, but that's one of the reasons why I'm here.
"They keep bothering me even when their dead," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "There's always more to a story than what you see. This photo is a perfect example of a hidden truth outside the lens of a camera. Let's dive deeper."
Duo again reached into his pocket and pulled out another photograph and tossed it to Heero. "Now identify these people."
Heero caught the photograph, and he cocked his head slightly at the picture, narrowing his eyes and thinning his lips. It was the same photograph, but there was more to it. Three more individuals were in the fold. One was a youthful looking Howard, his hair brown and full, his black sunglasses sharp, and a cocky grin on his face. He wore a vibrant blue, short-sleeved shirt with a pattern of palm trees inside his white lab coat.
Heero nearly rolled his eyes. Somethings never changed, he thought with a small sense of humor. The man's flare for tropical clothing remained unchanged and ever flamboyant, even for a Spacenoid's taste. Heero guessed it represented Howard's relaxed and easygoing personality: a brilliant and industrious mind wishing to be lounging off on a Caribbean coast, entertained by the simple lapping of the ocean waves on a golden shore.
There were two other men beside Howard, two men that Heero had never seen before.
Why haven't I've seen them before? Heero thought furiously, perplexed, as his eyes glided over the men. He could not seem to recall them as he hounded his past thoughts for evidence. He drew blanks and frowned in return.
The one next to Howard was a man with a severe expression, bordering between frigid and stern. He looked like the no-nonsense type of person as dark eyes glared behind circular horn-rimmed spectacles on his rigid nose into the camera, a cool glare that seemed to hold a weighted meaning as if the world were at stake. He had a full head of brown hair and medium chin-length hair. He too wore a lab coat.
The man next to him looked somewhat familiar. His strong features reminded him of someone he could not put a name to but see in his mind's eye. He too wore a lab coat, wearing a serene expression in his light blue eyes as he gripped the unknown man's shoulder. His hair was in a blond ponytail with two stray strands falling in his face, and a light goatee painted around his lips and jutting chin.
As Heero stared at the men, it became quite clear they were omitted from the previous picture. He was not too certain of the reason. Perhaps for secrecy or a falling out? Heero thought with concern. It was odd as Doctor J made no mention of these two individuals. Recalling his conversations with Doctor J, the man never mentioned any of his compatriots while Heero was training with him, not even Howard crossed his lips, and Howard often spoke fondly of them.
Heero had never bothered to ask. To know was not important. Doctor J would not have bothered if asked anyway, claiming, in his appeal to reason, it would be meaningless information not beneficial or relevant to the mission. Secrecy was law and private information was given only on a need-to-know basis.
He looked at Duo sharply, whose grim face took on an encouraging smile as he nodded to the photograph.
"No clue," admitted Heero, placing the photo next to the other.
Duo nodded. "I thought not."
Duo pulled out a seat and sat on the chair backwards, his arms hugging the back as he looked up into the dark ceiling. There seemed to be something great on his mind. Heero moved to the switch for the kitchen lights. A bright and warm yellow light welcomed the two individuals and Heero moved back against the windowsill, eyes carefully studying his fellow pilot.
"Ya know," Duo began, still looking up at the ceiling, still seeing something beyond the golden halo of the lights, "I thought I knew everything there was about Operation Meteor. Ha! I thought I knew everything about the Colony Liberation Front – the struggle for the independence of the colonies! - and then this jewel drops down on my head and I'm left with so many more questions - about us, about our role in this world, about the people involved.
"I'm left with picking up the leftover pieces, scattered in the wind, just found by happenstance. The world certainly works in complexity, buddy. We think it's simple, but we often are fooled by its intricacy. Maybe we're just idiots, overthinkin' in our god complexes, thinkin' we have all the answers. I honestly thought I knew all the players, but Howard caught me up. These two people are the reason why I am here on this little late-night rendezvous.
"The man next to Howard that looks like he's never had fun in his life – or gotten laid for that matter - is Aeolia Schenberg and the other – you can see the similarity in the stick up his ass too, - is Tomas Quarante, the White Fang's Quinze Quarante's elder brother.
"These two people, believe it or not, were tasked by the Barton Foundation on creating new Gundams or mobile suits after their breakaway from the Alliance and the assassination of the famed politician, Heero Yuy."
Duo now looked down, his blue eyes wide with excitement and something else indistinguishable in the back of his eyes. It looked dark and brooding.
"Heero, did it ever occur to you that there might be more than our six engineers in this whole operation?" Duo asked seriously.
Heero shook his head and his eyes glanced at the photograph again. He knew before Operation Meteor there were colony movements against the oppression of the United Earth Sphere Alliance and its shadowed hand OZ. It was waged fiercely in the colonies where he was a part of their minute forces. Heero only knew his part for Operation Meteor. Any other information was either suppressed by the UESA or deferred to someone else in the upper echelon of Operation: M.
Feeling curious, Heero leaned forward. "What happened to them?"
Duo smirked, but it was not a cocky one. This one held little humor. "Aeolia and Tomas were engineer partners during the pre-Operation Meteor days, assigned at the resource satellite A-O III. However, Aeolia and Tomas had a falling out of some kind. Something happened and they both went their separate ways. Perhaps a difference in ideology – who really knows."
Duo gave a slight shrug before continuing, "Aeolia continued his work on A-O III, moving it near Jupiter. Tomas went elsewhere, perhaps hidden by Dekim. We, the Preventers, found it by chance. In Jupiter's orbit. Or I should say I found and alerted the Preventers while looking through Professor G's stuff in L2. I thought I could find something to sale of his. 'Cause the dead don't own a thing except their names.
"This guy…" unrestrained appreciation danced in Duo's eyes. His hands trembled in excitement. A grin adorned his face, and he nodded to himself a couple of times.
Heero had never seen such a look on Duo's face, except for after the war, when he had shot the remnant of Libra in Earth's atmosphere. The brilliance of the shot and how close it came to hitting the Earth – and killing him – did inspire a state of disbelief. It was this look of disbelief and awe that came unbidden when witnessing the unbelievable had arrived on Duo's face and made it brighten with emotion.
"Heero, this guy was unbelievable! The technology he developed… the plans he had made… This man was in his own realm! He had developed some unique stuff that might have radically altered Operation Meteor if he had gotten his way. Would have completely changed the world!"
Duo then shook his head, a scowl on his features. "Too bad Dekim sold him out. Dekim had found out that his money wasn't producing results fast enough and sent a team to investigate."
Heero blinked in surprise. "Was he captured or killed?"
Duo shrugged his shoulders, and then crossed his arms and adopted a thoughtful look. "Beats me. I don't know the full scope of it, but somethin' happened that has now happened recently. We found some record and they are unbelievable! Some mysterious particles from the engines he had been working on created an anomaly or something. Aeolia simply disappeared, vanished in a ball of light particles, like Colony X-18999. He left all his resources on the resource satellite A-O III. The Preventers have been checking it out since late January."
They've been looking since January? thought Heero frantically, feeling unnerved and left out. How did I not follow on this? How much was I left out of the loop?
"What aren't you telling me?" questioned Heero, giving Duo his best glare. There was a burning desire that erupted in Heero. He needed to know the results of their findings, needed to fill the void of his ignorance.
"Uh, uh, uh," Duo wagged his finger, unfazed. "Now that is something coming after this next part.
"Now this is where the story picks up." Duo leaned forward on the chair; a conspiratorial smile spread across his face, and he went on. "You've been out of the loop, buddy, and I'm here to rope you back in.
"I've been keeping busy, splitting my time with the Preventers and Aeolia's satellite. Doing some snooping on the Alliance's and OZ's records for the Preventers, more specifically their logistic work – the labor, mobile suits and weapons, revenue, yatta yatta. We learned that OZ had been manufacturing a new mobile suit called the OZ-17MS Serpent, a successor to the Leo. It was supposed to be mass produced under Treize's orders."
"Let me guess: Manufacturing grounded to a halt because the war ended," Heero posited.
Duo smirked and nodded. "Yes and nope!"
"Huh?" Heero uttered, perplexed.
Duo's tone now became jovial as he saw the confusion written on Heero's face. "On the surface, the Serpents did ground to a halt, but production increased in secret, unbeknownst to the Romefeller Foundation. A thousand suits were created, all on the budget of one man I'd love to send to his maker: Dekim Barton and the Barton Foundation."
Heero took two steps forward, shock rolling off him in waves. It was as he feared. "If that's true, then Dekim has plans to implement Operation Meteor with his own private army."
A thought bulldozed into Heero as he remembered the reporter's words about the Barton Foundation. "He's going to use Colony X-18999. Is that where all the revenue was pouring into?"
Heero also aired his thoughts on the late completion of the colony. It was strange how after ten years the colony's development had not made significant headway to completion. Alliance resources during their formative years on the colony were mismanaged and allocated to building military facilities in the colony. Even after the departure of the Alliance, the colony should have opened for business.
Duo gave a curt nod at his explanation. "The Barton's Foundation's financial records and the missing Romefeller money has all been planned for this moment. Colony X-18999 was the holdout for the missing Serpent suits and whatever else he had planning."
Heero crossed his arms but said nothing. He was too angry to formulate words into a coherent sentence. How could I have missed this? he thought angrily. He should have known about this development, should have done his research instead of playing student. Relena's and their peaceful world was at stake.
"It's not your fault, buddy," Duo said softly, as if reading Heero's thoughts. "We all found out late. We found out late about everything, Heero, including his encrypted broadcasts."
"Encrypted broadcasts?" Heero asked, furrowing his brow.
Duo nodded grimly. "I guess peace wasn't enough for some. Since the war ended, there's been gatherings of military servicepersons and people disillusioned with total pacifism and enraged at Relena's plan for demilitarization.
"Apparently, like the Gundam Circuit, Dekim had his own encrypted networks, issued to his rabid and loyal supporters, who then distributed their propaganda to the disillusioned, the hurt, and the zealous. And ya know when crazies party, everything is destroyed. Everything."
Duo banged his fist on the table. The smack echoed in the room and shook the table. Anger flashed on his features. "This man is startin' another revolution. The Preventers notified me when they realized they were using jammers to infiltrate colonies and transport materials."
"What's their strength?" Heero asked calmly.
"Anywhere ranging in the thousands if not tens of thousands," expressed an enraged Duo. "It certainly clarifies the scale of resources made available to the Barton Foundation."
"And the organization?"
Duo threw a smirk. "They're calling themselves Origin, an organization bent on reforming the world through conquest and might. When we found out about this, it was the day the colony went missing, no doubt Tomas Quarante is behind this revelation.
"The Preventers had kept a media blackout – if this gets to the ESUN president, shit will hit the fan. Can you imagine the chaos this would bring to the people who had fought in the wars? It would also show opposition to Relena's worldview."
Duo's eyes enlarged and flashed with terror as his voice shook his next words, "Heero, imagine the blowback this could be to the world and Relena! It's gonna set us back years, man. Years!"
Calming down with a large exhale, Duo then laughed halfheartedly and briefly looked up at the ceiling again. "What am I talkin' 'bout? Shit's already hitting the fan, and we're getting splattered all in it."
Duo sighed and brought his eyes on Heero. "Surveillance showed the whole the colony started emitting red particles and it glowed red and then…! Boom! It was gone. Vanished like it wasn't even there. There is nothing left but a strange energy reading. Which brings me to the crux of why I am here."
Duo stood up suddenly and gave Heero an earnest look. "We might be able to trace their whereabouts and find them. I came to get you. It's time to suit up. Trowa, Wufei, and Quatre are waiting for you. Will you answer this call one last time?"
Heero did not have to think about his decision. It was already made. He had waited too long for this, and, serendipitously, opportunity had found him. The world was in danger, and the peace won by the Gundams was at stake, held in glass hands of those who stood for peace. He could never forgive himself if he did not take the risk.
The words came out of his mouth automatically, like reciting an old script. "Mission accepted. I'll do all I can to stop this."
XXX
The pair left Heero's apartment the next day before dawn. The birds were still asleep as Heero and Duo walked out the foyer, the perennial stars alight in their feeble attempt to stave off the dawn morning light. Heero had not slept a wink last night, and he remained by the window, thinking thoughts that stayed on the coming task and Doctor J. Duo had crashed in his guest room saying he had not gotten a good night's rest in a while.
As Duo slept, Heero had wondered about the mysterious particles that vanished Colony-X18999 and those engines Duo had talked about. Duo remained tightlipped and ended discussion until they were at the resource satellite. He said it was better to see it in person. To describe it would not do it justice.
Heero held off a yawn that was building in the back of his throat as he followed Duo, his satchel and travel bag pressing lightly against his him. Duo had given him an amused stare at his travel items. He had said it was not like him to carry anything, and it was true. Heero usually traveled light.
He never needed much and, usually, what he required was stored in the ceiling compartment inside his cockpit when he had traveled with his Gundam. He had no association with his Gundam, the Wing Zero, since he sent it to Quatre by his request. He sent it immediately; the disarmament of weapons had proven Gundams unnecessary to the Earth Sphere Unified Nation's defense.
Whether Heero had a Gundam or not was inconsequential. A Gundam was only a weapon, a tool, a cold, unfeeling machine to wage war, not peace. He was more than his Gundam. There were always other means of achieving victory and Gundams were one variable in the equation.
They made their way to the street and Duo stopped at the black Sudan he had noticed yesterday. He knew it and gave Duo a pointed look. Duo responded with a smirk as he opened the trunk and said, "Ya didn't think I would come before scoutin' ya out. Ya do love some sun, dontcha?"
Ignoring the question, he put his stuff in the trunk and headed to the passenger door. He waited while Duo closed the trunk, the car bouncing slightly from the motion, and made his way to the driver's seat. The car's headlights flashed twice and Heero opened the passenger door and sat inside. Opening the door Duo entered the Sudan and started the engine.
They drove to the spaceport in silence, both their minds drifting toward the coming launch. Bypassing security and finding a parking spot near the Preventer hangars, the pair made for the shuttle. It would hurdle them into the ocean of stars above. From there, their journey would start, a journey born from the distant past.