Twisted Destiny
Episode 4: Those That Squirm in the Darkness
by Masamune


"Thanks for all of your help, Howard wasn't it?" Zechs asked as the OZ chopper gently landed on the dock, the sun barely up. "If you don't mind I'm just going to get a few more things from my room and then be on my way."

The old engineer smiled, "That's fine with me. It's been a pleasure meeting you. Zechs Marquis, the Lightning Count, it's a shame you don't have a better mobile suit."

"Strange that you mention that," the masked soldier responded. "Lately those Gundams have made the entire Alliance look like fools."

Zechs walked away from the goateed man. He too had been humiliated in battle by the Gundams. He had failed Treize by not shooting down that Gundam over the Pacific. And then he had lost almost his entire search party to the Mirage Squad, as the golden Gundams were being called. Quietly he went back to his room and upon turning a corner nearly knocked down a young boy.

"Watch it will ya?" the boy said, obviously an American. Then the youth looked up at Zechs. A look of panic ran across the young braided boy's face before turning into a hard sneer. "Sorry my fault," he replied callously before turning to leave.

"Wait a moment," Zechs responded. To him there was something about this boy, something he had seen in very few grown men, yet this boy had it. It took him a minute to figure out what the boy had.

Impatiently and with obvious disdain the boy said, "I'm terribly sorry but I have to get going. Gotta do work and all so have a nice day." The boy tipped his hat and stalked off to a nearby hangar.

Around that time Trowa was finishing the reloading of Heavyarms. The massive, red Gundam had barely any dents in it but was exhausted of bullets after its battle. Trowa walked back to his makeshift camp area. A cold wind blew threw the forest, as he approached the camp he sensed something was wrong. He took out a snub-nosed pistol and cautiously approached. A rustling noise from the bushes to his left made him turn.

"Pleased to meet you," a hushed voice came from right behind him. "Trowa Barton isn't it?"

Trowa turned to face a young boy, brown hair standing up in spikes over his head, obviously gelled for the wind didn't move it. A slightly tan complexion face and dark hazel eyes met Trowa's. Trowa slowly put his gun to his side.

"You are Trowa Barton aren't you?" the boy repeated. Trowa's silence told him the answer. "Well in any case I've just come to talk to you, maybe make an ally."

Trowa scanned the hazel eyes again; they were almost completely void of emotion. "Sure, I'm interested," was his response.

The tape rewound over again. It was a tape of the newscast on the Corsica attack. The reporter kept talking about what a tragedy the attack had been for the Alliance. But the only thing Quatre could see were the Magnac troops being destroyed by the gunfire from the Heavyarms. Silently he rewound the tape, watching the red Gundam tear his friends into dust; his eyes were hard and cold. He had shed his tears for Rashid and the others. Now he did not fell sad anymore. It was almost like that feeling he had felt in the Arctic, in that house after reading the old man's letter. Quietly he walked over to a drawer and pulled out the letter again. He didn't know why he still had it; it seemed to fascinate him. He paused the tape, a picture of a Magnac crumpling under bullet rain frozen to the screen. For a moment he wondered what he would do if he were to ever meet the pilot of that Gundam. Would he kill him? Would he attempt to reconcile with him? The possibilities ran threw his head like a cold breeze.

A beep from his computer made him forget the recent tragedy. Another mission. He was to meet up with another pilot and then head for New Edwards. The rest were simply details. Quietly Quatre wondered if all of his comrades were like the pilot of the red Gundam. That was impossible he reassured himself. The others had to be nice guys he knew it.

Explosions rocked the once silent African night. Screams from the pilot's quarters rang out as accompanists of blasts followed. Confusion ran threw the air, it was almost as fast as Chang Wufei. He sped down the open African savanna, ponytail flapping in the wind behind him.

"Another easy job, killing more weak people," he sadly said to himself. "What the hell?" He grabbed the steering wheel pulling it sharply to the right, swerving just as an Aries mobile suit came boosting out from the trees behind him. For a second he hesitated and then he hit the gas pedal sending the motorcycle speeding ahead. Gunfire, Wufei was thrown from the bike and skidded across the ground. He stood up to face the Aries as it landed near him.

"Huh just a kid?" he heard a voice from inside say in awe.

/A woman, no wonder he was still alive/. Quickly he attempted to cause a distraction with his bag of fireworks but the Aries rifle fired again. He was thrown to the ground once more.

"Don't even try that shit with me kid," the female voice came from the cockpit. "You just killed a lot of my students and I'll be damned if I let you get away, even if that means wasting you. Understand?"

With a groan Wufei stood up and looked at the Aries. "Women get so violent at times," he quietly reminded himself. He stood there for a moment; the pilot didn't do anything. He dashed for his bag again and once more he was knocked away by gunfire. This time however he hit his head against a rock. With a sharp cry he clacked out.

Lucrezia Noin got out of her mobile suit. She walked over to the limp body of her enemy.

"God, he's still so young," she said to herself in shock. "I can't believe a kid like this could do some much damage. Why would he do such a thing?"

She picked up the young Chinese boy and looked at him for a second in the moonlight. He was so young and could have been full of happiness. He should have been at school someplace or talking to friends over the phone at night. Instead he was out here, bleeding from a nasty gash in his forehead. It made Noin wonder exactly what kind of world was it that allowed such things to happen. She wiped the blood from his face and then tore a piece of cloth from her pants, making a bandage of sorts, hoping to stop the wound at least a little.

"Personally I don't see the reason for your revolt," Alex said as he sat with Trowa. They were enjoying a surprisingly good dinner courtesy of Trowa. "I know that OZ is evil and that they are going to kill a lot of people so they can replace the Alliance. That's what I'm fighting to stop."

"You're basically asking me why personally I'm fighting?" Trowa cut in. "Isn't that question irrelevant?"

"No," Alex shook his head. "No that's were you are wrong. People shouldn't just fight because they are given orders. If you truly believe in your cause then I have no problem with it, but you know as well as I do that OZ will eventually replace the Alliance. And then what? Keep fighting?"

"All I know is that I was sent here by a scientist that wanted me to attack OZ as a way of getting back for the assassination of Heero Yuy. But personally, I fight for another reason."

"Which is what?" the hazel eyes danced in the firelight, obviously curious. But the sparkle faded at Trowa's response.

"I don't really feel like telling you right now."

"That's fine, in time if we get to know each other more then maybe you will?"

Trowa looked up from his food. "Sorry but I don't think that you're my type."

Alex spit out a piece of meat. "Shit! No that's not what I meant by it!" Silence stood between them for a minute. Obviously I'll have to break it, Alex thought to himself. "I really don't have a problem with you being…gay or anything like that." Trowa looked up at him. "Just for the record," Alex quickly added.

Trowa almost smiled. He liked this hazel-eyed guerrilla. He was id and courteous and all but he seemed normal, and that was something that Trowa really wanted; just a friend that could bring him down to Earth every now and then. Alex however felt that they should keep on with business.

"So what do we do if we eliminate OZ?" He asked the silent mercenary. "What if OZ wins the war? What if they actually bring peace to the Earth Sphere?"

Trowa hadn't considered those possibilities yet. What, if anything did they do after the war? And of course OZ would bring peace but they would kill thousands in the process.

"In that case there would be no need for us, the Gundams," he said softly. He looked at the campfire. "That's what I want to do, I want to bring peace to space as well as the Earth."

"Even if that means helping OZ? I don't think the other pilots will go along with that so easily."

"Doesn't matter," Trowa replied. "If OZ ends up defeating the Alliance I'll go to space and help them there. If the others don't want to go along with that then they don't have to."

"In any case I think we should dispose of these scientists. They seem to be running the show these days. Frankly I don't know why you take orders from them. But they'll get what's coming to them. Why am I doing all the talking? When is your next mission anyway?"

Trowa's showed only a hint of amusement. "You know I can't tell you that. For all I know you could be an Alliance spy."

"Good point, I never thought of that," he said in mock surprise.

Heero Yuy was cautious as he looked about the cave. He had gotten an unsigned letter telling him he could find his Gundam in a cave near New Delhi. Of course it was against every instinct in his body to have gotten on a plane and come alone to the cave. Now he was standing right in front of Wing. He had scanned it from top to bottom, no bombs, no dents, nothing. He held the videotape in his hand. It had been lying in the cockpit of Wing. Heero jumped into the cockpit and inserted the tape. A picture of a man garbed completely in black, even covering his face appeared. The figure hit a few knobs and buttons and then faced the camera.

"Heero Yuy," he sighed almost. "I had much higher expectations of you. I understand your losing the Gundam known as Wing but to make me go out of my way to recover it for you, that's just unprofessional." The figure sat back in the seat. "I am Shadow, pilot of Mirage, one of the golden Gundams that has been attacking OZ facilities. I guess you don't care who I am but there are a few things that I am now going to tell you. First and foremost, the Leo pilot that you fought over the Pacific Ocean wasn't any normal pilot. His name is Zechs Marquis. He is an elite Specials officer, friend of Treize Kushranada, and one of the most highly skilled pilots ever."

"So Zechs is his name," Heero said quietly to himself. "Zechs Marquis, you are my enemy, my number one target from now on. I will beat you next time we meet."

The tape continued. "Second, I am not your enemy. I am not your friend either so don't get that idea in your head. You work best alone, just never underestimate your enemy. Sometimes soon I believe that you and I will meet on the battlefield. Just to make one thing clear to you; I WILL kill you should you interfere with my plans."

"Lastly, you have a mission to carry out. One of your Gundam buddies named Chang Wufei slipped up on an infiltration mission to the Lake Victoria Base in Africa. Not only did he fail to destroy the Taurus mobile suits, OZ's latest model, but also he was captured. Dr. J sent you a transmission ordering you to go and wipe out the Tauruses, recover or destroy the Gundam Shen-long. What you do with Chang that is up to you. He called while I was hauling Wing into this cave. I told him you'd be glad to take the job. If you need further details contact him."



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