Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Broken Wing ❯ Broken Wing - Prologue ( Prologue )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Light expanded from the lone section of the Libra still headed for Earth



This is my first attempt at writing in the Gundam Wing Universe, please be kind! And many people will most likely be very angry with me. . . well . . . tough cookies!! Like it says in my profile, I am the self-proclaimed Shock Queen of the Sailormoon fanfiction world! And now I'm invading Gundam Wing! AAAH!!! Erm . . . I don't own Gundam Wing or Sailormoon. I wish I did, but I don't. I am diligently working on the first chapter of this fic, but I am putting a lot of effort into it so it will most likely be a while before it is done. But the more reviews I get, the faster I'll get the first chapter out! And . . . well . . . that's it. So read on and enjoy!




Broken Wing
Prologue

Light expanded from the lone section of the Libra still headed for Earth. The explosion was soundless in the vast emptiness of space, but it blared with ominous force inside her mind. Her hands were spread on the window of the shuttle, her blue eyes wide and quivering as she stared into the fading brilliance that had been the light. Her brother had been there. Could he have survived?
Before her silent question could be answered, another, smaller explosion lighted up inside Earth's atmosphere. What was that? It couldn't have been . . . no . . . not . . . the Wing Zero? One hand abandoned its perch on the window to cover her mouth as it tried to release a sob. She wouldn't cry. Not until she knew for sure that they were dead.
"Are they alive?" she whispered a spilt second before she turned her helmeted head to the man who was piloting the shuttle, "ARE THEY ALIVE?!?"
"I can't be certain about Mister Milliardo, but I'm picking up traces of debris inside Earth's atmosphere that are definitely Gundanium alloy. The Gundam that went into the atmosphere no doubt exploded."
"But he could still be alive," she insisted, grabbing the man's sleeve in desperation. She remembered how Heero had nearly fallen to his death outside the military hospital, releasing his parachute too late. But he had miraculously survived. If he could live through a fall like that, he could survive an explosion. Couldn't he?
"I'm afraid not, Miss Relena," the man shook his head sadly as he studied the readout, "I'm also picking up . . ." he paused, as if unsure how to phrase what he wanted to tell her, " . . . I'm picking up . . . human debris. Tissue, bone matter, blood. He didn't make it."

**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Relena's memory ended there, but the soldiers had told her later that they had caught her when she fainted, and guarded her all the way back to Earth.
That had been a year ago.
Now Relena sat on her bed, hands carefully resting on her legs in her usual fashion. She had been raised with proper manners, and the lasting grief she felt over the loss of her brother and Heero was no excuse to let propriety drop. No, she was still Relena Peacecraft, and she had a job to do.
She stood and walked to her bathroom to look in the mirror. Staring into the familiar blue eyes of a stranger, Relena ran a hand through her short, boyish hair. The decision to cut her hair had come not long after that day. It was her way of mourning. When she allowed her hair to grow out again, then everyone would know that she was moving on. A year later, only a few of the people who knew her best were beginning to worry. Everyone else seemed to think that it was natural for a girl to mourn so long for her brother and for a close friend. Only Relena knew what Heero had really meant to her, and only she knew that she would never let him go. This mourning would never end. Not until the day she died.
With no emotion she lifted a hand to swing open the mirrored door to the medicine cabinet. Within sat a single bottle of pills. These sole inhabitants of Relena's medicine cabinet had taken up residence there about five months ago. Her excuse was that she suffered from terrible headaches, which she did, and no one would deny Relena Peacecraft anything she needed. But she had not used one of those pills. She saved them, not quite certain why but knowing that if the time her subconscious mind was preparing for came, she would know.
She silently closed the cabinet and turned, walking out of the bathroom.
Her mourning would never end. Not until the day she died.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

The figure carefully contemplated the images that it had just seen. Death, and despair, all for the death of one boy. The girl named Relena Peacecraft had fooled herself into believing that she mourned two people, her brother and the boy she loved. But the figure knew the truth. Relena did not mourn her brother at all. No proof had ever come forth that Milliardo Peacecraft had perished in the destruction of the Libra, although most people found it easier to simply believe he was dead. Those who knew him, however, had a faith that he was alive somewhere in outer space.
It was the boy, Heero Yui, that Relena missed the most. He was proven dead, and she loved him.
The figure shook its head and spoke.
"This cannot come to pass. Heero Yui must live, and Relena Peacecraft must not be allowed to despair."
A staff appeared in the form's hand. It resembled a large key and fit perfectly into the hand it was designed for.
"The course of Time must be preserved."
Another window opened before the observer, and another set of future events unfolded.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Duo pulled the brim of his cap lower over his eyes. His trained ears picked up the sound of footsteps on the wet pavement behind him. His stalker was not giving up. They wouldn't attack him as long as he stayed on the crowded street, but Duo couldn't avoid the fact that he was running out of crowded street. Night was creeping into the city quickly, and with its arrival people were dutifully filing into the safety of their homes. Unlike Duo, who had no safe place to go.
Well, he thought to himself, I might as well go ahead and deal with this joker.
But he didn't really feel that confident. For he knew who it was who followed him.
Without warning he slipped into an alleyway, removing his cap and tossing out onto the sidewalk as a signal to the stalker. I'm here. Come and get me.
Standing in the shadows, anticipating the arrival of his enemy, Duo shook out his newly shortened hair. It was shoulder-length now, a far cry from the long braid he had proudly worn for so long. With the murders of all of the engineers who had helped build the Gundams, and the mysterious, unexplained death of Quatre Winner, Duo had thought that the removal of his trademark braid might be a good option. Obviously it had not earned him the anonymity he thought it would, for the murderer had found him anyway.
"You know I'm going to kill you, Duo," stated the shadow that had joined him in the small space. A small build hid the boy's inherent strength and resourcefulness.
"Yeah, well, why don't you come over here and get it over with, huh, Wufei?" Duo's voice wavered. It was a normal inflection that was always present when he spoke, but became more pronounced when he was nervous or afraid. Silently the boy cursed for letting his fear get the best of him.
Wufei didn't bother to respond, or even mock his former comrade. Duo dodged the first barrage of fists, but neglected to move timely enough to avoid being hit in the jaw. He scowled as his tongue darted from his mouth to taste the coppery blood that flowed from his split lip, staining his chin. His indigo eyes sparked as he lurched forward, fist aimed at Wufei's stony face. His shadowy enemy grabbed the fist in his hand and twisted Duo's arm around, forcing the chestnut-haired boy to turn to alleviate the pain. A swift kick in the back and Duo stumbled forward, hitting the pavement hard on his shoulder. He wasted no time in bounding back to his feet.
Oh man, he's better than the last time we fought . . . worlds better . . .
As Wufei strode forward, face slack and body relaxed in perfect calm, Duo began to get a real sense of the danger he was really in, and his hands began to shake.
"You're not kiddin' are you? You're really gonna kill me!" He stumbled back in surprise, staring out from the damp brown hair matted to his wet face, "Then . . . it really was you who killed Quatre and the others!"
In answer Wufei merely reached into his pocket and pulled out a lock of white-blonde hair, tied with light blue yarn. Duo's eyes widened as he recognized it as Quatre's. Another step backwards brought him to a brick wall. He didn't really want to fight Wufei. Not only because the two had gotten to know each other somewhat before the events that had ended in Heero's death, but because he didn't think he would win. Duo could fight, but he had already proven that he couldn't fight like Wufei. But pride and anger wouldn't let him hold back the words he knew would enrage his enemy.
"Damn you, Wufei. You're just a coward," he managed one of his devil-may-care smiles even as his nemesis pulled out a dull black handgun, "Can't deal with the memories, huh? So you're erasing all of the people and things that remind you of what we Gundam pilots used to be."
Wufei's face contorted with anger, but he didn't physically attack as he would have only one short year ago. This surprised Duo so much that he didn't even hear the gun fire. In fact, he didn't even realize that the blood dripping onto the pavement was his own until he was face down in it, and by then it was way too late. He attempted to push himself up only once. For the few moments that he managed to keep his head up, he glared at Wufei in betrayed anger.
"I told you I would kill you. Don't act as if you thought I wouldn't."
Wufei aimed the gun at Duo's face and fired three more times.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

The observer quietly closed the time window, and was solemnly silent for a few moments in respect for the boy who had fallen in the scene that had just played out. Duo Maxwell hadn't deserved to die like that, gunned down by a former comrade. No one deserved that, and this form was determined that this future would never occur.
Clutching the key staff tightly the watcher stepped from the shadows to reveal a tall, tanned woman with a sea of green-black hair that cascaded to her knees. A serious face, locked forever into a severe expression of responsibility too hard for such a lovely visage, stared out into the dark mists of the plane she inhabited. There, in the shrouded distance, she could see the outline of the Gate she guarded and maintained. The Gate she had sent the Senshi though so many centuries ago. The Gate she had not passed through in nearly as many years.
But that was the only choice now. Drastic changes needed to occur, both in the weapons of the Gundam pilots and within their minds, to avoid such a radical and tragic future. She knew this, but because of her isolation she didn't quite know how to bring about the mental changes. The physical changes, yes, but she knew little about the inner workings of the typical human mind. And the mind she needed to change was certainly not typical. The Guardian rapped her staff on the ground as she pondered the problem of finding someone who could reach such a hard person as Heero Yui without taking him off the chosen path of his destiny.
There was only one person.
She could easily contact the NeoQueen. The Guardian was one of the few beings in the Universe who knew the whereabouts of the last true Moon Kingdom royal and her descendants. Serenity was one of those people . . . she had that tendency to get under a person's skin and become a part of them before they realized what was happening. But she was old. Not physically, of course. Physically she was only about twenty-three years of age, and that way she would stay forever.
Serenity had the combat and ruling experience needed to lead such an incorrigible group as the Gundam pilots, but her age was a problem. The boys would never follow someone of that age. Youth, especially these youths, had a natural distrust of adults. For the pilots, nearly all adults were their enemies, part of OZ and the Romafeller Foundation. No, Serenity would not be the best choice, despite her experience.
The Guardian needed some form of Serenity, however, if she expected to be able to make her plan work. A younger version would be acceptable, though not preferable.
The boys were 15, save Trowa . . .
Trowa.
She hadn't looked in on his future. What will become of the oldest of the pilots if this future goes unchanged?
She opened another window on the circus where Trowa was known to spend his time when he wasn't being a Gundam pilot.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

The lion became a kitten beneath Trowa's gentle touch, purring for attention as if it had always been so tame. The boy gave a small smile. He never smiled for people, only animals. Not since Quatre had died.
"Trowa!" came the voice of Kathrine, the red haired acrobatic woman whom Trowa called sister and for whose voice he was grateful for at the moment, "You've got a telegram from Earth!"
He paused. Who from Earth would send him a telegram? The only people he knew there had been Quatre's men. As far as he knew, they had long abandoned Earth, the final resting place of their young master.
Trowa stood and accepted the paper from Kathrine's hand with a hard expression on his partly hidden face. His jaw set, leaving his lips in a thin line of anger as he read the telegram, eyes even more flat and unreadable than usual.
This is it then, he thought as he looked up and across the circus that he had come to call home, I will leave here, and search out Wufei, and either kill him or die in the process. Either way I won't return here. Killing nameless soldiers in space is one thing. Killing a person you once considered a teammate is another, and I won't corrupt Kathrine.
"I'm leaving here," he informed his sister with a nonchalant tone as he tossed the telegram over his shoulder, "I'll be going to Earth. I once asked the authorities there to keep me informed of certain people, and they have done so. The situation there requires my presence now."
He walked away from her, the information brought with the telegram still burned in his mind. Duo was dead. It had taken DNA testing to confirm the bodies identity, seeing as the face was little more than mulch mixed with bullets. It was a violent killing, unlike those of the engineers and Quatre.
Trowa frowned. The police had told him that there was no way to say for certain that the boy had been murdered. After all, he could have simply fallen off of that cliff, or committed suicide. As if someone who had everything would want to kill themselves. Quatre had been a Winner. Rich, with bodyguards up the wazoo and anything his kind little heart had desired. And in the last seven months of his life, he had also had Trowa. The older boy had not left his young companion's side for a moment. There was just something about Quatre, with his pale looks and gentle heart coupled with deadly fighting ability, that captivated Trowa. He had known from the first second he met the young Winner that something special was happening between them.
But it had ended that night when Wufei tossed Quatre over that sea-side cliff. No, Trowa hadn't seen it happen and no, he couldn't prove either the identity of the killer or even if it had been murder at all but he knew. Quatre didn't take midnight strolls along dangerous cliff edges by himself, and Quatre wouldn't have killed himself. Not to mention the fact that poor Quatre's face had been more battered and bruised than a fall would have done. He had been beaten. Of course the police didn't believe Trowa. It was much easier to assume the death an accident or a suicide than try to hunt down a nameless, faceless killer with no motive.
Of course, the killer was neither nameless nor faceless to Trowa. He knew the name only too well and the face would never leave his memory. Wufei.
He would kill Wufei.
Or die trying.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

The Guardian frowned and immediately changed the window to a new scene. The fate of Trowa and Wufei.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Wufei's dark eyes lost the last of any true feeling that may have been held in them as he gazed silently up at his handiwork. Blood from several wounds dripped down his left arm and joined the pool on the ground. Life soaked the grass and colored the mud a dreary shade of red as rain pattered into the liquid, diluting its purity.
Trowa's body hung limply from a tree. His blood no longer dripped, it had been flowing for far too long. It was all spread on the wet ground, and Wufei's mixed with it as he stood there. The dark haired boy was almost sorry he'd given in to the urge to show off his kill as a trophy. Pride was a strong force, however, even when it was for the wrong action. Unlike Quatre, Trowa had not been weak, and Wufei felt that a certain amount of pride was in order for such a kill.
Still, there was that voice from deep inside his mind that told him killing Trowa had been wrong. That every kill he had made in the past year was wrong.
It was nearly over. There was only one more person to dispose of.
Wufei limped through the crimson mud towards his fallen katana. His pale hand wrapped about the handle slowly, shaking ever so slightly. As he was righting himself by pushing the blade deep into the mud , Wufei recalled the words he had said to Trowa seconds before cleanly snapping his neck.
As fighters, we Gundam pilots represent a risk to the peace of the Earth and the colonies. I cannot allow that risk to exist.
Finally catching his breath, Wufei turned the katana blade in on his own stomach, prepared to atone for the dishonor of killing his teammates. But he hesitated. Did he really deserve the right to absolve his sins with his final act? Whether he wanted to believe it or not, the events before Heero Yui's death had effected him, made him not quite as hard. He had respected these people, yet killed them all in cold blood. No, he did not deserve to absolve those sins from his soul.
Wufei took the blade from his stomach and instead slit his own throat.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

The Guardian shut the window quickly, a slightly heartsick expression on her stern face. So young, all of them, to die in such gruesome manners. Isolated from the universe as she was she had not known the condition of things until it was too late to stop the spiral towards darkness. Such a universe to create boys so hard they could murder nameless people by the thousands, then kill each other. She felt a heavy weight in her soul from the knowledge that she could have changed things if only she had caught it early enough.
But enough dwelling on what she could have done. It was time to act, to stop the scenes she had just witnessed from moving from the future into the past. Future was fair game, but the past was off limits. If she wasted enough Time to let these events happen, then they could never be altered.
She tapped her staff against the ground again, and the Gate's heavy white doors opened wide. Maroon eyes peered into the unknown of the Time warp. In their depths could be seen the Guardian's hesitation, and fear of her own failure. But she braved the hardest part of this journey, the first step through the Gate, and flung herself into the mercy of Time.


End Prologue.