07-Apr-2002

Title: Juxtaposition 1/?
Authors: Dan
and HopeofDawn
Legal Stuff: Raptus doesn't own the girls, Hope doesn't own the guys, and neither of us owns any of the rest of Gundam Wing either, more's the pity. It belongs to Sotsu Agency, Bandai, and others, and we're just two rabid fangirls who thought the character roles needed a little bit of tweaking. *evil grin*
Warnings: AU, of the 'cracked mirror' kind. Angst, dogfights, and other fun stuff. (Hope: We have also determined that fanficcing sessions until 1 a.m. combined with waaay too much caffeine produces excessive giggling. We recommend everyone to try it. :-D )
Notes: Hello all! Yes, I too have been the strong silent type lately, but I here I am with something brand new. Dan and I started this little idea together, and we're not quite sure how far we're going to go with it, what with RL commitments and all, but we thought we'd throw the first part up for public review and see what you guys thought.

Okay, I think I've babbled enough--on to the fic!

Juxtaposition By Dan And Hope Of Dawn

Prologue

She watched the people file by the open grave that held her father's body. She watched as weeping women and solemn-faced men threw handfuls of flowers onto the dark coffin. She watched as the crowd of mourners slowly dispersed with the air of people who understood that they were taking part in important ceremony and nothing more.

Her eyes narrowed as she watched the people walk away; watched them walk away from her father and all that he tried to do. The people were already starting to shake away the vestiges of the vision that he had given. The child did not understand everything that was going on, but she knew that everyone was walking away from something important. Something that her father had believed in. Something that they had killed her father for, and it wasn't right. She placed one delicate hand on the railing and tightened her grip until her knuckles turned white.

'It's not right,' she thought, full of the righteous rage of the innocent. 'It's not right that they should just leave.'

A small boy paused as he followed his mother away from the open pit. He rotated his shoulders as if to free them from something and then looked up. He saw her standing there, pale and sharp like the edge of a broken plane of glass. He stood as people flowed around him, transfixed by the set of her face, the emotion in her eyes. He waited until she noticed him watching her.

She cocked her head and stared at the unruly-haired boy who stood in the middle of the procession away from her father. He stood unmoved by the constant flow of people around him watching her with curiosity and a little bit of fearful confusion. She placed her other hand on the railing, leaning into it, leaning down to him.

"Come on, Heero."

He didn't protest when his father picked him up and followed the rest of the people away from the grave. But he watched the girl standing on the balcony until he couldn't see her figure anymore.

She watched the man carry the boy with the intense eyes away into the rest of the crowd. The boy was the only one that didn't walk away.

The man standing next to her on the stone balcony hunkered down to her level as the last of the weeping bereaved wandered away. He said nothing to distract her from her intense study of those distant faces. He waited with the perfect stillness that only a certain type of walking dead can cultivate. Waiting until she turned that lilac gaze to him.

"She's now more mine than yours, my friend,' he thought as she turned to him with those guarded eyes. "More mine than yours.'

"Here." He held out a pair of dog tags on a battered chain. "Yours."

She held out a fragile five-year-old hand. "What are they?"

"A promise."

She looked up at him, and for a moment her eyes were those of the child she should have been: lost, confused, and afraid.

He let himself touch that dark honey-gold hair gently, fatherly. "A promise that you will live. And that you will remember him."

They sat at a small, round table in a cheap kitchen with a lamp that jerked gently with every whirring turn of the fan. The light glinted off their pale hair as they sat together in an odd parody of a family dinner. She chewed thoughtfully on a piece of bread as she watched him systematically breakdown and clean his tools. She studied each movement, memorizing them.

He felt the weight of her somber gaze, curious and patient. She would watch his every movement with a sound, without a question unless he broke the silence between them. That stillness was not normal, he knew that, but he appreciated it--could use it. He set down the rifle with a solid 'thunk,' and with one easy movement, placed what seemed to be a small gun in his hands on the table before her.

She picked it up with no hesitation. Such things had never been allowed in her presence until her father's death. Until the night when everything changed, but even after all of that she was not afraid of the sleek weapon. It was as if, at even five, she understood that a weapon was just a tool, just a means to an end. She ran one small finger over the etching on the side that read: 'Desert Eagle 5.0'

Then she looked up at him expectantly, too young to be anything other than curious.

"That's another part of the promise."

"Promise?"

"That you live, and you make everyone remember him. Remember what they did to him."

He watched, almost fatherly, as she methodically broke down the gun--only fumbling a few times--and then put it back together. Then she looked up at him with those too serious eyes.

"I swear."

She stood in front of the massive mecha, her eyes the same waiting blankness as that seemingly distant day when she watched the faithless colonists bury her father. She was aware, as she was always aware, of the people moving around her. Of the people as they stopped to stare at her and wonder. Of Dr. J studying her every breath.

But even with that tense knowledge, her fingers found the battered dog tags around her slender throat. She fingered them thoughtfully.

"I swore," she whispered to the hulking monster. "I swore I would make them remember. Make them all remember."

Juxtaposition By Dan And Hope Of Dawn

Part One: Operation Meteor

The snapping sound of Howard's flip-flop sandals against the steel decking was ample warning of his approach--a auditory complement, Trowa thought, to the visual assault of the old goat's vivid Hawaiian shirts.

"Something interesting out there? Or d'ya just feel like watching the gulls?"

Despite the casualness of the question, Trowa heard the real curiosity underneath. A thin, ironic smirk tugged at his lips, white teeth flashing in the shade of the small, powerful binoculars he had focused on the horizon. "Oh nothing much. Just looking at an Oz patrol is all--heading straight into your drop zone."

"What?! Give me that!" Howard grabbed for the binoculars. Trowa allowed them to whipped out of his hands as Howard spun, shirt flying, and scanned the vast expanse of glittering blue ocean for himself. Out in the middle of it as they were, that meant a lot of horizon. "I don't see. . . sheeeeyite! What in the blue blazes are *they* doing there? There aren't supposed to be any patrols in this area!"

Trowa tucked his thumbs comfortably in the waistband of his jeans. "I guess they didn't get your memo, Howard." He cocked his head to one side, eyes narrowed on the now-barely visible specks in the sky, and chuckled.

"You find this funny?"

"Just a little. After all--it's not every day you get to see such a sterling example of Murphy's law in action."

***

"Aries One to Aries Two; status."

"Two to One: well, I was feeling a little queasy after mess, and I've got a little gas, but other than that I'm just fine, thanks for asking." Duo grinned cheekily at the screen, and waved a hand in front of his face, blinking innocently behind his goggles. "Getting a bit rank in here though--I might have to go on oxygen soon."

"Funny, Two," Zechs snapped wryly. "Your *Aries*, cadet."

"Holding steady at 468 mph and angels 15 above sea level, sir." Duo sobered, pushing at his cap with one hand as he surveyed his instruments. "2200 pounds of fuel remaining."

"Roger that." Zechs made a quick note in the flight records, then pushed it aside. "Training Flight 342 to Victoria tower."

//"This is Victoria tower. Go ahead."//

"Commencing training maneuvers and patrol sweep of fourth through sixth quadrants."

//"Affirmative, Flight 342."// There was a wry note in the air controller's voice. //"Good luck, Instructor. You'll need it."//

"Oi! I heard that!" Duo protested.

"You were meant to, Duo. Now cut the chatter and take the lead for the first patrol sweep." It took an iron will to stifle the smirk, but Zechs managed.

"Yes, sir. . ." Came the resigned reply, and the compact blue form of Aries Two moved ahead. A low mutter came over the com. ". . .stupid patrol patterns. . .would it kill us to do something *interesting* for a change?"

Keeping a careful eye on his sensors, Zechs said, "Routine patrols happen, Duo, even in Oz. Get used to it."

"Awww, c'mon, Instructor. Just one wheelbarrow roll, just for old-times sake?" Duo wheedled, grinning impishly.

"No."

"C'mon... "

"I mean it, Duo."

"But... "

"No."

"Dammit." Rolling his eyes, Duo banked hard and settled down into cruising speed. "Aries Two, commencing patrol sweep."

Hilde double-checked her coordinates, looked at her vid-screen, and then swore viciously. She keyed in the alternate drop-zone coordinates with one hand, and the data still came up that same. She swore harder. Howard had said that this place would be clear of patrols for at least two hours, but here they were as clear as day. Two Aries units sitting right in the middle of her way.

Fucking typical.

She palmed the controls, calculating the distance almost faster than her computers before changing the course of her dive. She angled between them, since it was far to late to try to bank. If she tried she'd just plow into one or both of them. Maybe they'd mistake her turbulence for really strong wind.

Well, a girl could hope, couldn't she?

She hunched her shoulders unconsciously as she shot between them. As good as her baby's cloaking devices were, they weren't going to be worth a damn in about sixty seconds. She managed to blow past both the Aries without mussing her paint job, but Deathscythe was going down towards those pretty whitecaps headfirst at a wicked speed. Not wanting to take the ocean in the kisser, she throttled back her main engines and hit her maneuvering thrusters, flipping herself around. Her lips pulled back into a vicious snarl, she slammed her main engines wide open and shot up from the ocean with thoughts of death and mayhem dancing in her head.

Here they were, just sitting there like they were the lords of the place. Hilde's eyes narrowed into burning blue slits. They were the enemy, and they were fucking dead. She sneered at her radar as she watched the little fool try to keep up with her. Well, if he wanted to play fucking tag, they could bloody well do that--but it was going to be just the three of them playing by her rules. She didn't have time to deal with a whole bloody battalion. Hilde smiled sweetly as she keyed in the jamming sequence. "Sorry sweethearts, right now it's just going to be you and me."

She leaned over her control panel and whispered to her mech. "We'll just start this party a little sooner, that's all."

"What the FUCK was that!?!" Duo screamed. He piled on the thrust, powering the Aries into a dive to follow, fighting to keep it under control as it bounced around in the wake of the strange black Suit. "Instructor, I have visual confirmation! Orders?"

Zech shook his head, still dizzy from where it impacted against the back of his seat. "Operation Meteor... so soon?" He swiped blood from a cut over his eye, noting in passing that two of his lateral thrusters had flamed out. "Stay on it, Cadet! Don't lose that Suit!"

"Yes sir! I'm on it." Duo grinned savagely. "Shinigami's here to play." The Aries' engines rose to a scream as he continued his power dive, coming up hard and fast on the black Suit's tail. "Cheeky bastard. Ignore me, will ya?"

Apparently the pilot of the Suit had heard him. The black mech reversed course too fast for him to react, powering up out of its dive with a speed the Aries couldn't hope to match. "Fuck!" He wrenched his Suit around. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, baby, don't fail me now!" Banking madly, he heard the metal plating rattle in protest as he jigged to the left, trying to get a clear shot. That Suit was huge; big and black and *damned* fast.

Swearing under his breath, Zechs toggled the com. "Training flight 342 to Victoria base, come in! I have an unidentified Mobile Suit, bearing 42 degrees, mark--shit!" He ripped off his headphones as a piercing feedback squeal assaulted his ears, and slammed a fist into the steel paneling. "The bastard's jamming us!" He banked hard, knowing even as he dove that he stood little chance of joining the fray--the two suits below were too far away, and moving too fast for his crippled Aries to follow.

Duo swore under his breath. The black Suit was dead in front of him, perfectly lined up--and the targeting computer *still* refused to lock. Of course, it was only sheer luck that he had any armaments at all--the Aries had been scheduled for live-fire exercises, and was carrying a full load of ST-10s in addition to its chain rifle.

Eyes narrowed, he squeezed the trigger anyway--only to overshoot his target as the black Suit kicked in a burst of new speed. With a sudden sharp veer to the left, it disappeared--only to reappear on his tail. "Sonuva--" Sweat trickled into his eyes as the proximity warnings screamed, telling him what he was all too aware of--that for all his desperate maneuvering, the Suit was still on his tail. He pushed the Aries to its limits, redlining the engines as he banked through the clouds. Then the alarms stopped--and in the eerie silence, Duo noticed that the Suit was no longer anywhere to be seen.

"Dammit!" He craned his neck, watching his screens and the horizon as best he could. "Sir! I've lost him--do you see it?"

"Five o'clock low--!" The information came too late. The demonic black Suit materialized in front of him, a curved beam scythe spitting green sparks in both armored hands.

For the first time in his life, Duo froze.

She banked hard to the left as the overeager Aries shot by her, coming around behind the other suit before the pilot had a clue as to what was going on. Hilde chuckled softly as she raced along behind him; her fingers flew over the control panel, inputting the commands to draw her thermal scythe. "Come to momma..."

She paid the second suit very little attention as she hunted the more ambitious of the two. He was quick little bugger. He kept trying to shake her off his tail with these sharp maneuvers. Her soft chuckle developed a crueler edge. She had visual confirmation and that was all she need. Hilde's lips twitched for a minute, "Well, hello there."

Deathscythe went into an easy roll to the right, cutting off his escape. Then she banked to the left, harrying him through the clouds. It amused her to watch him scurrying before her, like he thought he could get away.

But she was late; you know, people to meet, things to blow up, and a war to start. With her luck Trowa had already left, saying that she had broken their 'date.' Hilde swore viciously at that thought. Channeling her irritation, she activated the scythe, dropped sharply and banked hard to the left, anticipating where her little bird would try to fly. With Deathscythe's speed, he'd never see her coming.

Hilde's chuckle burst into a full-throated laugh as she watched the Aries desperately try to reverse course out her path. She ripped her scythe through the blue Aries, cutting off its wings, and then took off his legs on the reverse stroke, fire belching in the wake of her attack. The suit began to tumble helplessly downward, out of control, fuel spraying wildly from the severed lines. Then a spark caught--and ignited. Hilde watched in satisfaction as the Suit fell screaming out of the sky, violent explosions tearing it apart even as it fell. So much for Ozzie number one.

Turning her attention to the second suit, far, far behind them, Hilde cocked her head to the side, for a moment looking sweetly quizzical. "Poor darling, are you having problems?"

For a moment she thought about letting him go; the second Aries was having so many problems that he was an almost pathetically easy target. It seemed cruel to blow him out of the sky now. But, well, she couldn't let him live and then blab about her existence to everyone, now could she?

Lazily, Hilde reversed course and dove down towards the second Aries. He tried to veer away from her, tried to swerve and throw her off course. The outcome was easy to predict. Already crippled, thrusters firing erratically, she felt like she was plucking the wings off a dragonfly. She came up from underneath him, and sliced off the Aries' wings in two swift clean strokes.

She whispered a small apology. "Sorry darling--but I really can't let you live now that you've seen me." Swinging her weapon in a swift arc, she slammed the end of her scythe into one of the Aries' main engines. With its engines now nothing more than a smoldering mass of twisted metal, the Aries fell helplessly into the sea, belching smoke as it began to break apart.

Hilde watched for a moment, sighing in a small amount of regret. Then, she turned away, and sped off to make her 'date.'

Smoke filled the cockpit rapidly, black and choking, and Zechs fought to control the racking coughs as his lungs struggled to find breathable air. The temperature was rising rapidly--and a second explosion threw him against the confines of his harness as it kicked the Aries sideways. He wheezed, hands searching blindly in the dimness for the eject button.

After a small eternity, he found it. The cockpit blew open in a cloud of smoke and fiery debris, propelling him outward. Covering his head from falling debris, Zechs' felt the sharp jerk of his chute as it deployed, yanking him upward--but not before he saw the glittering surface of the water rushing up at him, too close, too fast. A brief moment of realization was all the warning he received, then he hit the water with bone-shattering force, his chute only half-unfurled.

After the suffocating heat of the Aries', the plunge into seawater was shockingly cold. Spots darkened his vision as he fought against losing consciousness, the chute harness buoying him upward. He hacked and wheezed, flailing as his head broke the surface of the water, and was promptly swamped by the waves caused as pieces of the Aries plunged into the ocean. Instinctively, he sought his cadet.

"Duo!"

There was no response. He twisted frantically in the water, scanning the floating debris. "Duo!" Then he spied a flash of color--the tiny red flag of the hair tie at the end of Duo's braid, floating in the water. "Duo!" Hampered by what felt like a broken leg, Zechs struggled to his side, pushing his way through the choppy water to haul the bobbing, face-down pilot upward. Dragging Duo's limp body up on his chest, Zechs frantically sought for a pulse--and sighed in relief as he found one, weak and thready beneath his clammy fingers. "Thank God. Hold on, Duo. Help is on its way."

He only hoped it would be in time--because he knew with grim certainty that they had already been too late to prevent Operation Meteor.

End Part 1

(:./dan/juxtaposition1)