TWISTED DESTINY

A Gundam wing fanfiction

Most of these characters are copyrighted by Bandai, Cartoon Network etc

Gundam Wing is property of…blah blah blah…all the legal stuff.

Episode 1 - The Shooting Star She Never Saw

“So, it's just as headquarters warned us...”
“Yes. It’s Operation M for certain.”
“How many of them can this ship catch up with?”
“Just one, the one which will be falling somewhere in Eastern Eurasia.”
“That’s fine. One will be enough.”

Zechs Marquis. The Lightning Count was almost certain that OZ would quickly undermine the little rebellious scheme known as Operation Meteor. As his ship closed in on the enemy, which closely resembles an old fighter plane, Zechs began to have doubts about his mission. Here he was, the distinguished son of the Peacecraft monarchy, he was running clean up missions for the peons of the Alliance. It was almost more then he could stand.

“Don’t you think we should leave these jobs to the Alliance space forces?” Otto asked. Otto always seemed to have the ability to know what Zechs was thinking.

For an instant Zechs wondered, “Should we be?” But his only response was, “Yes. Remember I am a true soldier.”

And that summed his life up in a sentence. He was just another army grunt. Taking orders blindly, always remaining loyal to Treize, always getting the job done right, and always getting up the next morning to do the same exact thing. Was that what a true soldier was, a puppet?

Otto Barbuta. The experienced mechanic knew Zechs was having doubts lately, especially with the rebellion about to begin. But he had to quickly turn his attention, as the fighter plane in front of them suddenly seemed to burst and started to form the shape of a Mobile Suit.

“It…it’s transforming!” his companion shouted.

“Damnit!” Otto cried as he fired on the mobile suit.

Zechs stood up. “A fighter jet that transforms into a mobile suit?” he said.

Heero Yuy. The perfect soldier turned his Gundam, Wing, around and steered it back in the direction of the transport ship as 2 Aries and 1 Leo appeared. As he watched the civilian shuttle enter the atmosphere he brought the Buster Rifle around and fired blowing the 2 Aries away. Just as he thought the mission was done a shot from Zechs’ Dober Gun hit. Heero fired at the free-falling Leo but it dotted about eluding his every shot. Heero was surprised at the skill of the pilot. They had made it through the atmosphere and now more Aries had shown up to take care of him. The Leo was attached to a parachute and was floating above him. A sound above Wing startled Heero; he had barely enough time to bring up his shield before the Beam Saber smashed into it. The 2 suits hurtled towards the sea. As Heero swore under his breath the Leo cockpit opened. He saw a parachute open, a masked man fly up in the air, and then Wing hit the sea.

“That pilot, he was strong,” he murmured before he collapsed

Quatre Rababa Winner. The noble in the desert was feeling very out of place in the snowy tundra as he cursed his Gundam, Sandrock. He had finally made it to Earth, a place that always held so much beauty in his eyes, only to have the navigation system malfunction as he entered the atmosphere. He guessed he was miles off from the area where the Magnacs were waiting.

“And the poles always looked so nice from space,” he muttered cynically. “I’m sure Rashid and the others are worried about me. But there isn’t much I can do now. I’ll just fly around until I either find them, or sit here and freeze. He pulled his goggles down over his eyes and headed off into the cold.

Chang Wufei. The solitary dragon was just finishing up torching an OZ carrier. The job had been easier than he thought. Probably because the people here were all cowards. He had barely been scratched and had managed to leave no trace of the carrier. His first mission had just been completed. A dark house on a cliff overlooking the sea was the only place that another human soul could possibly be after that battle. Wufei didn’t want to destroy it though. He had killed enough of the weak for one day. He felt like he was supposed to be happy he couldn’t stop the feeling of emptiness inside of him.

“I hate destroying the weak,” he spat out. “When so many of the enemy are weak I can’t help but wonder, Nataku, maybe I’m the coward.”

A shadow. A cold shadow watched as the Shen-long disappeared into the twilight. It, the shadow, walked to the window from which it had been watching the ordeal. The shadow pulled its baseball cap down, completely annihilating the chance of a person seeing his face. Quietly he thought to himself. Now was the time to act. He had been waiting for this chance, waiting for a long time. Now all he had to do was stay in the shadows, which he was so much like. Now he would have to do all he could while staying as a shadow, as an illusion, as a mirage. He turned from the debris filled waters and walked away from the window.

He had nothing to say.

Trowa Barton. The silencer was sitting inside of his Gundam, Heavyarms. The spaceport and the surrounding area were destroyed. It would be at least 30 minutes before reinforcements arrived. Slowly Trowa removed his hand from the left control stick. The heavy Gatling gun arm fell to his side slightly deprived of bullets. The battle was won, but Trowa couldn’t help but wonder. He had been ordered to destroy the spaceport but he had destroyed the base nearby. The people in that base weren’t supposed to be his targets. They were supposed to be doing their jobs, carrying out their regular lives. Just as he was. The sky was darkening; red light glinted off of the wreckage that Heavyarms had wrought. It didn’t make sense sometimes.

Trowa asked the coming night, “What’s the point? Why must people die this way? Maybe…maybe I’m just as bad as OZ. They have a good cause actually. They wish to unite the Earth and keep it under not a tyranny but a peaceful, decent order.”

He lifted his left hand to his face. The twilight made his hands look crimson, like blood. Blood on his hands, the blood of people that could have been good. And for what purpose did the blood spill? So 5 old men could have their revenge? For a moment Trowa hated them. If OZ was destroyed then they would be happy, and the world would fall into chaos. They had no intention of helping the colonies or the Earth afterwards. They were bastards, but they were Trowa’s bosses. Night had come and still no reinforcements.

“Damn it,” was all that Trowa could say.

Relena Dorlan. The heroine of our time was simply out for a stroll along a beach halfway around the world from her true homeland. She had slept during the flight back to Earth. It was good to be home. Apparently there had been a disturbance near the shuttle, but Relena had been asleep she missed the whole thing. She turned and looked at the beach, the crashing waves, and the sand that had not yet been disturbed. For a second she faltered, she saw something lying in the sand not far from her. She ran to it, half-curious, half-afraid.

“Phew,” she sighed in relief. It was only a wet and dirty uniform

Duo Maxwell. The God of Death was fuming over the mission he had just received. Some fool had lost his Gundam in the sea near Japan. The American had put his Deathscythe in the hangar and was almost asleep when the transmission had come. He would have to set out early in the morning if he wanted to beat the OZ recovery crew. They would be occupied with the search, making his job much easier. But still, he, the God of Death was now running a stupid recon operation for a careless pilot.

“Man this is sooo uncool,” he said as he rolled over in his bed.

Treize Kushranada. The OZ commander was still studying the pictures of the mobile suit that had landed near China. The meeting had not gone smoothly with the Alliance leaders. They were really pissed about losing 3 suits and not even have possession of that one Gundam as they were being called. But next to the number of losses that the Alliance had experienced today three was nothing. Zechs was on the recovery team near the JAP area. The Alliance’s Marina was also searching there. It was no coincidence that all of the places attacked had been OZ controlled. It was so close to the revaluation that it had to be a very well thought out plan. The shock was the skill that the pilots had. They were far better then any pilot, save Zechs that he had ever seen. The next few days would be interesting, very much so.

“Those pilots,” he said to himself in wonder, “They are the true essence of battle. They are my foes but I truly respect them.”

Alex Vendetta. The normal face in the crowd was running an errand. At 15 with spiky black hair and hazel eyes he looked older then his age. He was 5’9” with a slightly muscular build. He was a normal kid to the naked eye. But anyone might think him suspicious if they saw him now, breaking into an Alliance weapons storage facility. He was down three bullets, leaving 3 more in his pistol. The entrance guards were disposed of and he had all the time in the world to take as many explosives and weapons as he could find and then blow the facility to hell.

It took him fifteen minutes in the main storage area before he was ready to go. About a half a million dollars worth of weaponry was loaded in the back of his truck. With a grin he pushed the little bleu button which would cause the destruction of the base in another 10 minutes. As he drove out of the facility gate he thought to himself.

“War”, he murmured, “It is the drive of this time. A new era will be beginning soon, and when it starts bloodshed will cover the entire Earth sphere.” He sighed, “And then, after all the fighting is done, I and the rest of the world will attempt to get on with their ‘normal’ lives.” He scoffed at his own remark. “But then, long after I’m dead, the fools of the future will do the same thing. They too will attempt to spark a great era of change and righteousness. And the sad part is that all of these fools will be doing it for a good cause, with every bit of themselves sure of it. And I guess that’s why we are all fools.”

Author’s Note: OK Episode 1 is finished. For those of you that missed it the story takes place at the beginning of the Gundam Wing series. I added two characters in this episode and more will come. As you can guess the fact that Heero doesn’t meet Relena is going to greatly influence the future of this fanfic. Well I’ll start on Episode 2 and please please send me comments, suggestions, hate mail, whatever to masamuneEHS@hotmail.com

Episode 2- From Strange to Insane

Heero Yuy sat in a bathroom. He was pissed off and still a bit wet. He had managed to make it to the shore and inside of an Alliance seaport. He was now dressed in a loose fitting dock worker’s outfit. Thoughts ran through his head like fire.

“How come I couldn’t stop that Leo pilot?” he asked himself.

The memory of the Dober Gun’s bullets riddling Wing and then the Leo suit carrying him to the bottom of the sea bit at Heero. The 2 Aries had been destroyed of easily enough. But a Leo! One free-falling single Leo had managed to best him. He had failed his first mission because of one masked man. Dr. J had made a mistake in picking him. Heero struck a box near him. And then he realized that there were two things he had to do.

“The next time I meet that pilot, I’ll kill him,” Heero spat. Not sure whom he was angriest at, himself or the enemy pilot. “But first I have to recover Wing. I can’t leave it sitting at the bottom of the ocean for OZ to find.”

Unfortunately this was easier said then done. For the seaport that Heero currently found himself at housed no deep-sea recovery vehicles whatsoever. He was contemplating this in the silence; the only sound was his breath and the beating of his heart. And then a gun cocked and he felt cold steel on his neck.

“Don’t move,” a voice whispered in his right ear. “I will blow your throat apart. You work here?” The voice sounded serious and deadly. Whoever was holding the gun meant business. But Heero really couldn’t care. As far as he was concerned he was a failure, and that he would need to be destroyed anyway. The only thing that made him stand still was the thought of the masked man. He couldn’t die here. He had to take his vengeance.

“No I don’t,” Heero replied coldly. “I can’t help you.”

A moment passed and then the voice, “Hmmm.” Heero felt hands probe his body from the leg up until they reached his right hip. “So you carry a gun. You are no dock worker.”

The hands took the gun attached to Heero’s hip away and it clattered across the dark room. Heero felt the steel leave his neck and then the figure backed up. The shadow had snuck up on him perfectly and it was retreating just as silently. Heero stayed still, knowing a movement and his life would end. A door closed and the room was silent again.

The American pilot had just finished breakfast when his watch went off. Wiping his face Duo stood up and looked at the time. 5:30 already. The mess hall of the salvage ship was empty except for Duo and an empty container of cereal. Deathscythe was ready to go and for Duo it seemed that this cursed recovery operation was getting more annoying by the moment. For a moment Duo looked around the mess hall. He was hoping that he could talk to Howard, the guy that ran the salvage ship before he left. Howard however was a very late sleeper.

“I’ll be back before he even wakes up,” Duo laughed to himself. But for some odd reason the usual cocky pilot wasn’t feeling to good about this mission. Maybe it was just a stupid premonition. Whatever the feeling was Duo quickly dismissed it and got into his Gundam. He sat in the cockpit for almost 10 minutes until he realizes he was falling asleep.

“Damn this mission,” Duo said to the Deathscythe. “I must be the friggin most unlucky guy around. 6 in the morning.” He brushed his long ponytail back and closed the hatch.

However at that exact moment Duo wasn’t the unlucky guy around. Quatre’s plan had not been working at all. He had moved all around the Arctic region but still had not found the Magnac Corps. He had stopped talking to his Sandrock hours ago and now had become very much contrasted to his usually cheerful self. The cockpit of Sandrock was warm but the harsh winter storm around him had almost completely wiped out any chance of his finding the Magnacs, even if they were straight ahead of him. The radar had gone out when he had entered the atmosphere and Quatre was no very frustrated. He had about given up hope when he came upon a little middle of nowhere cottage. Quickly he dashed to the warm house and knocked on the door. No response came.

“Come on come on,” Quatre said as he frantically knocked on the door. “Someone has to be home here.”

After almost five minutes the blonde pilot was ready to kick the door in. Angry as he could remember he ran around the house was he found what he had been looking for. A medium size window was open just a crack. Pulling with his near numb fingers Quatre pried open the window and hopped inside. Slamming the window shut he turned around to see an old fireplace with an old man sitting in an armchair, the back facing Quatre.

“Oh sorry sir,” he said humbly. “My name is Quatre Raberba Winner and I really a sorry about breaking in and all but it is really cold outside and I needed to come in.”

The old man didn’t respond. What Quatre really had to do was use the bathroom. Guessing the man hadn’t heard him he walked over to the armchair. Ignoring the strange smell that seemed to fill the room Quatre peeked around the side of the chair. Quickly he turned away, repulsed at what he had found. For a second Quatre was on the verge of tears but instead he ran from the room and found himself in what appeared to be the kitchen. The kitchen was a mess; old spoiled meat and dried blood splattered all over the counter tops. Obviously some kind of animal and just been slaughtered and the old man never got around to finishing it. The room stank much worse then the living room. Feeling sick and dizzy Quatre left the room. As he shut the door to the bloody kitchen he noticed for the first time that the house, although on one floor, was huge. As he walked through he noticed a grand dining room, guest rooms, a study and many rooms that appeared to be made for little children. The house made Quatre think of his old home. But this place, it was different from the Winner family house, it was so quiet and sad.

The Deathscythe noiselessly moved across the ocean floor. Branding his Beam Scythe, Duo waited for the Cancer unit to move in. He had watched the Alliance search fleet for almost two hours.

He had resorted to talking to Deathscythe in order to keep his sanity.

“You know something Shinigami?” he called his old friend. “No matter what happens in this war there is always going to be one victor. You know who that is right?”

He leaned back and waited as if listening for a response. “Death, what a bitch she is. Always able to beat us no matter how good we are. No body can cheat Death…not forever.” He sighed and looked out into the murky deep waters. “Ever since the beginning people have looked upon God as the all powerful force in the universe. Damn, people even believe that since humans populate the Earth Sphere so much that we are Gods now. But still, if the strongest entity in creation is God, it has to be Death. Otherwise….”

Cancer and Pisces units moved across the deep ocean floor. As they scoured the ocean floor Zechs finished up a radio conversation with an Alliance official. As the monitor turned off Otto turned to Zechs.

“You know sir,” he started respectfully, “There isn’t anything wrong with our ship.” Some how he knew that Zechs had another plan behind this. The masked man turned to face him.