Not To Touch The Earth by Richie Ramos

Chapter One: Of Signs and Portents

He was floating in a sea of stars, looking at a battleship with skulls and crossbones on its hull. Standing on the bow of the vessel, ridiculously, was Trowa, wearing a stylized Pirate Captain's uniform, an eyepatch over one eye, and with a scar on his cheek.

I must be dreaming, Quatre thought, and then he saw himself - of course he would be the first mate.

Suddenly, in the distance he saw two mobile suits approaching, skimming over the glittering space-waters. He had never seen their type before: slender designs, with wings which were made of curved manifold-type pieces, very much like and unlike Heero's Custom suit. Their feet never even touched the "water"; instead, they glowed with the light of Minovsky generators, canceling gravity and giving off a strange yellow-greenish light. The legs were sculpted marvelously, as if each muscle in the endoskeleton were a human's, and then the armor shaped to reflect such organic perfection. The hip area was covered in fluid yet angular armor plates that covered the thighs completely, giving only a glimpse here and there of boosters hidden amongst the plates. The upper torsos were as organic as the legs, save for the radiator ports on opposite sides of the central chest area, which had some sort of circular beam emitter. Shoulder plates similar to the hip plates adorned it, this time the hints between the plates not only of boosters, but also of strange weaponry, like saber hilts and folded micro-arms with esoteric weapons on them. The arms, too, were organic-looking, but the forearms had nacelles that contained some sort of beam weapon. Its head had an actual face, not just a mask - it was shaped to look Greek in its proportions, and impassive in expression. The rest of the head had chain-mail-like armor over it to give the impression of hair, and over it was a circlet that went around the forehead, a single large sensor array on the forepoint. Side spikes like elongated wings were on the ear areas. The most spectacular detail however, was its color: the purest silver, with golden outlines and highlights. And, as a final touch, it had large swatches of cloth around it, making a makeshift cloak around its body, thus only glimpses of the body could be seen at any one time. In their hands were two objects, a weapon that looked like a cross between a beam rifle and a beam saber in the right hand, and a large round shield in the left, which looked like it had Minovsky particle ports at the edges.

The suits started to disintegrate into silver and gold dust as they came nearer to the ship. When Quatre looked at where Trowa should be, he only saw a statue made out of salt, looking out into the distance.

The wind suddenly picked up, and the sea of stars suddenly erupted into tiny supernovas, fuelling the solar wind with their combined heat, and still the suits came closer, disintegrating, falling apart. From the very centers of the suits, he saw human figures, in the same positions as the suits coming ever closer.

"I shall fear no evil, I shall fear no evil," Quatre started intoning, remembering a prayer he had heard from Duo, in one of the American pilot's rare moments of religious levity.

The suits had completely disintegrated; only the figures were left, and they alighted on the deck, right next to Trowa's statue.

They were twins, indistinguishable from each other. Both wore leather boots with ankle guards, pants tucked into them. Over this, they wore what seemed to be overcoats, with the cut over the right breast, emphasized by ornate silver buttons. The sleeves were long and drooping, hiding their hands; their arms were folded in front of their chests. Their clothes were black, with the overcoat having highlights and details of a deep shade of burgundy. They had European faces, and yet they had hair that was ebony in color and at hips' length, slightly wavy and being blown about by the wind, a perfect match for their too-dark eyes. On their belts hung paired swords of unusual design, long-handled and with short but broad blades, whose guards also had a bladed edge.

They stared at Quatre, and his clothes melted away. Naked, he stood in front of them. Their deep eyes mesmerized him.

"Little One," they spoke without moving their lips, a chorus of mental voices.

"Beware, for we have come -- not as angels of mercy. You do not remember us, but we know you, Winner's Son. We know you have the Gift, else you would not have been able to see us this way. Take care of yourself and your beloved. The Angels have come, and though our feet do not touch the Earth, wherever we walk there will be brimstone and fire."

With that, they burst into flame, their twin explosions tearing the Trowa-statue apart.

Quatre woke up with a gasp, sitting up suddenly in bed; beside him Trowa was already awake and holding his arm, quiet as usual. But his eyes betrayed his calm; they were piercing, searching for what troubled his lover's sleeping mind.

"I had a bad dream, Trowa, and I think it is a true one," he said, reverting to his formal speech, something he did only when he tried to hide his feelings. "It is nothing."

Quatre smiled and hugged Trowa. Though Trowa returned the embrace, he stayed quiet. He didn't know what was going on, but he did know that if his lover talked so stiffly, there must be something wrong. He gave Quatre one final squeeze and slowly stood up from the bed.

"Where are you going?" Quatre looked at Trowa with slight confusion. "It's three in the morning!"

"To the suit hangars. I do not have bad dreams like yours, but I know how to prepare for them." With that said, Trowa walked towards the door, his pants and shoes already on, his turtleneck balled in his left hand.

"Sleep."

The door clicked silently behind him.

Quatre stayed in bed, staring up at the ceiling. All he could see was the Trowa-statue disintegrating into shards of salt crystals.

"No, not if I can help it!"

He picked up the wireless phone from the bedside table. "Rashid, could you please send for our best suit designers and engineers? I have a few ideas which may need their expertise."

"As you wish, Young Master," the voice over the phone said, so crisply that Quatre could almost imagine the salute that may have accompanied it. Quatre rose from the bed, and started to dress up.

"No, not if I can help it, definitely not," he whispered to himself; Trowa was right. Sometimes even the most far-fetched notions had a glimmer of truth behind them. His experiences in the past war were proof of that. He fully intended to call up his fellow pilots, and perhaps the Queen Relena herself, whose current state of affairs was one of those far-fetched notions during the war. After taking care of his own preparations of course. That too, he had learned from Trowa.

Trowa sat in his cockpit, waiting for the various systems of his mobile suit to come online. He remembered how he had awoken to Quatre's disturbed murmurings and jerky movements, of how his partner had awakened with a sharp intake of air, as if he had been drowning. The suits systems were now operational. He started running a maintenance check on all of them.

He remembered the aftermath of the Marimeia affair: How Duo and Wufei had joined the Preventers, how Quatre had become even more like his father, how he had gone back to the circus, how Heero had disappeared. And Queen Relena, of course. Who could have forgotten her? Now, Marimeia was part of her entourage. Lady Une, of course was still the Head of the Preventers.

How time had changed everything. Two years later, and he was now back with Quatre. The circus life had proven to be as much of a mask as that which he wore as a clown - though perfect for hiding, it was not, in the end, fulfilling. Catherine had been very supportive, acting as his sister in troubling moments, but in the end, he knew that she would always despair at not knowing who he really was. He went back to Quatre at that point. They had given each other their final goodbyes when he left for the circus again, thinking rightly at the time that the famous son of Winner would be more effective without the shadows of prejudice behind him. When he came back, a year later, Quatre had grown enough in confidence to not care about such things. The fact that Rashid approved gave Trowa much relief. They had been together ever since.

Now, a year into their peace, something was happening again. Trowa understood Quatre's abilities. He wouldn't have had such dreams unless he knew something was coming.

The systems check yielded no problems; HeavyArms was as good as it would ever be.

He noticed that someone had left a message on his mobile suit's comlink reader. He was instantly cautious; he hadn't used that system since the times of his original mission, when he was still working for Doctor S. It was a video transmission. He touched the screen, and the message was activated.

A face appeared on the screen. It was of an eighteen-year-old with brown hair and a crewcut, and distinctly fine features. He had an easy smile and a relaxed demeanor, in contrast to silver-pupiled eyes.

"Heya, bro."

Trowa froze.

"I know what you've been doing, and the name you've taken. You will always be one of us. It's been decided; the Lost Cluster is showing itself soon. Take you and your lover away. Go to Mars, if you have to. Your lover should know anyway, the Gemini have visited him, I think. And I know you know that he's been visited, otherwise you wouldn't be in the cockpit of your MS.

"Take care."

The screen turned to snowy static. Trowa knew better than to watch it again. If it were his "brother", then it would be a file with a self-erasing command imbedded in it. He knew what to do now. And he thanked Quatre that he had money and resources for what he was about to do.

"If it's about upgrading your gundam, Master Quatre has already seen to that, Master Trowa," Rashid called from the control booth of the suit hangar.

Trowa sighed. His partner was getting more adept at reading his thoughts. Or was it that he was no longer the boy he knew, but was now more like himself? He was both happy and sad at the thought.

"Good."

He left the cockpit of his mobile suit, and decided to go to the library; he had quite some research to do now in the Winner personal archives. Behind him, engineers and technicians began to meet about the new specifics for the HeavyArms.

Rashid looked at the departing figure of his Master's partner. He was a strange one, Rashid thought to himself, quiet as the desert, yet just as savage when angered. He was a perfect mate for Master Quatre. Too bad, he thought, that they are both men. A child from their union would have been unstoppable. And with that thought, he started to go over to his jeep, preparing to visit yet another part of his Master's personal colony.

Duo yawned as he headed for the cabin he called home; It was no joke to be one of the heads of the Preventers he thought, and even worse to be working with Lady Une. It still ran chills up his spine; she had been once an implacable enemy.

He buried himself in work now, and it did him much good, ever since Heero disappeared.

The thought of him still made him quiet down and be sad in a way that he couldn't articulate. He remembered when Heero had disappeared again. He had been in charge of special security precautions for Queen Relena's official coronation. Of course, all five pilots had to be there, for the sake of formality.

It was the post-coronation banquet. Heero was standing by the terrace balcony of the Cinque Palace, resplendent in a formal suit with a deep brown vest, to match his hair.

He was staring into the distance, to the forest. Duo walked up to his side.

"What are you thinking of, luv?"

Heero remained quiet. Duo rolled his eyes.

"Heero, not that I'm complaining, but aside from the fact that the other person with a thing for you is waiting for you inside, I'm also wondering what you're going to do about it."

"Do about what," Heero asked in his usual cold manner.

"Well, she knows, really that we're kinda, err, together, but you have to tell her yourself, for her to believe it. It would be unfair to her not to say, and it's not because she's the Queen. It's because she's Relena.

Heero looked at him with his piercing blue eyes. He felt his throat dry up. He knew what Heero was about to do. Heero brushed his cheek lightly with his hand, and kissed his forehead.

Heero jumped off the balcony, and then disappeared into the night. Duo didn't even hear a single sound, aside from crickets, and the faint sounds of music and people talking and laughing. He continued to stare into the heart of the forest, much as his lover had done.

"He left you." Hilde was standing by the glass doors, her form silhouetted by the light. She went closer and reached for his shoulder. He winced. He wasn't feeling exactly stable right now.

"You knew he would leave, Duo. It's not in him to settle down. He's too much the warrior to know anything else at this point. You have to let him go for now. He will be okay, and if God is willing, he will come back to you."

Duo threw the champagne glass that he had been holding all this time. He heard it shatter on the floor level below them. He turned to face Hilde, his eyes brimming with tears.

"You think that makes me feel any better," he shouted at her.

Hilde stood there, impassive.

"I'm sorry," Duo muttered after a few seconds, He was wiping the tears from his eyes with his sleeves, and he was trying very hard not to sob, trying to compose himself.

"Go to your quarters, Duo. I'll take care of things here. Bring a bottle with you if you like."

"But the Queen... "

"With Lady Une and that superbrat Marimeia, Zechs nearby and Wufei too, not to mention Trowa and Quatre, I think she's pretty safe. Go home."

Hilde held both his shoulders and smiled weakly.

He did go back to his quarters that night, and he got horribly drunk. But he still felt the deep pain of being alone in bed.

As he was reminiscing, he came up to his house; situated just outside the main city of Cinque itself, it was a simple log cabin, but that was just a front; his property had many security devices, and the cabin itself was practically a bunker, and stocked with many weapons. Underneath it was the subterranean hangar for Shinigami. He smiled at that thought, though weakly. The whole thing about destroying their mobile suits was a sham thought up by Quatre, of all people.

Quatre had argued that there might be a need for them someday. All pilots agreed on it, and though Lady Une had expressed disapproval, and Relena herself hated the idea, they allowed it to happen. It was always better to have an ace in the hole.

He went in after disarming three different security systems. He looked at his message pad. There was a message stored in it.

"More work? Dammit, Une, I'm there early anyway, earlier than Wufei, too!"

Then he saw the message, composed only of three words: They are coming.

Duo's hands grew cold, he started shaking, and grabbed the nearest bottle of booze he had in the house.

He had remembered how Professor G kept on talking about the Lost Cluster, a group of colonies which had "disappeared," taking with them advanced technology, better than what the Five Doctors had used in the Gundams. When Duo asked once how he knew this story, Professor G looked wistfully into the distance. "Because I was supposed to go with them," the doctor had answered softly. "One day, they will come back, Little One. And heaven help us all when they do."

The signature of the message had been Professor G's. Which was quite impossible, since he had died a year ago. And now they were coming.

He went down to the Shinigami and crept into its dusty cockpit. He started drinking there, and fell asleep after consuming half the bottle in a melancholic state.

He remembered, before drifting off, that he should warn the others.

They were coming. God help us all, he thought, and then surrendered to fitful sleep.

He was imagining himself in the middle of a white nothingness. He was removing all thought, all disturbance from his mind, concentrating on a focus so total that he would be able to sense all things.

He was in such a state that he nearly did not hear someone silently enter his sanctum. Nearly.

"What brings you here, Zechs? It better be important, Duke of Cinque."

He had given the query the proper amount of annoyance, to convey his displeasure without overstepping his bounds as Head of Special Operations.

It was then that he sensed that Zechs was not alone; there was someone behind him, and it was not a familiar presence.

He suddenly spun towards Zechs, in the process grabbing his hand and pulling him away from whatever weapon had been prodding his back. A shot was fired, but hit only the opposite wall of his featureless meditation room.

Zechs, for his part, lunged towards the weapons rack that served as Wufei's repository of swords. He grabbed a Chinese broadsword, and assumed a classic Western fighting style.

Idiot, he thought to himself. A sword was no use against a gun. One had to move, to sidestep a gun's line of fire.

The assassin fired two more shots, both of which missed Wufei as he went through the kata for avoiding such a weapon, looking to the entire world as if he were dancing carelessly and acrobatically in front of a loaded gun.

"Idiot," Wufei whispered to himself in Chinese.

Zechs had wisely decided to not engage, leaving the assassin to Wufei's tender mercies. He was activating a special emergency beacon disguised as one of his coat buttons; Lady Une would be here, if the assassin were lucky.

Otherwise, Marimeia would be.

The assassin was able to lunge for the door before Wufei could reach him. The small hideaway pistol the professional was using was empty; he had not expected the Chinese teenage boy to be so skilled. He started to run for the nearest exit, when a small girl with a beret and what looked to be a scout's uniform blocked his path. No more than ten years old, he thought to himself; a perfect hostage.

The child suddenly raised her hand and shot him with a pistol much like his own, which was just big enough for her hands. He fell to the floor lifeless, his skull shattered.

Lady Une came up from the other side of the corridor. She was still in her gown, her hair down, a long-barreled pistol in her hands.

"You should always be prepared," Marimeia happily said, her smile in that smirk that Lady Une knew to be from her father.

Wufei was standing over the corpse, and Zechs was behind him.

"He should have been captured, not killed, " Zechs intoned angrily, his face showing such cold intensity that even Marimeia herself went pale.

"This... pig... ambushed me as I was on my way to a function. And yet, his target was Wufei. He was merely using me as a passkey, since I had universal access to the whole palace." He was not called the Lightning Duke for nothing, and his visage was practically crackling with static electricity as he looked at Marimeia.

"I... I apologize," Marimeia looked down at her shoes. Lady Une looked at the tableau with amusement. Marimeia may be unnaturally mature for her age, but she was still a child when in front of the Duke Milliard himself. Even her father had been in awe of the man then known as Zechs, the then-Lightning Baron, in his own way.

The Duke smiled. "You did your job, child, but remember that sometimes we need people who can talk."

Wufei was still looking at the corpse. He kneeled down and searched the dead man's pockets. It yielded a simple keychain, with a medallion attached to it. When Wufei looked at the medallion, his eyes narrowed and tossed it in Lady Une's direction. Une caught it and looked at it.

"Well, Wufei?"

Wufei looked askance at them, his fingers touching his chin in that scholarly look which he sometimes fell into when he was thinking deeply. "We have to double security for the Queen herself, and start mobilizing all our troops. The Duke can take care of the army; while you, Duo and I must prepare to protect the Queen, and if necessary have a place for her to escape to. I think we all may have to go into battle again."

Lady Une looked at the medallion; it had an inscribed illustration of an angel with wings spread out. On the opposite side was inscribed one Greco-Roman letter: Omega.

"Only one organization has those symbols, Lady."

Lady Une nodded. "The Lost Cluster."

"Yes."

The Duke frowned.

They all started to go to their respective offices, leaving Marimeia alone in the corridor, with the corpse. By this time, soldiers were coming in to take care of the body.

"Child! Come, there is much I have to teach you about this enemy," Wufei shouted at Marimeia. She made a face of distaste. She hated it when Wufei became teacher-like in demeanor. On the other hand, anyone who could penetrate their defenses this well had to be stopped. And what a challenge it would be. She smiled and walked towards Wufei's library.

Wufei, in the library, was shaking his head. He rubbed the Nataku's control key, which he always kept on a necklace around his neck. Soul of my departed love, he whispered to himself, help me. Help us all. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, letting all his doubts and fears become part of that one breath. Then he exhaled, resuming his calm demeanor just as he heard Marimeia about to enter his library.

Kansas Colony was well named: it's internal environment was one of flat fields, meant for agricultural purposes, grain and animals in separate squares of land making the living areas of the cylindrical colony's innards look like a quilt. Of course, the three main windows of the colony provided enough sunlight, angled as the mirrors outside it were towards the sun. A central tube ran through the cylinder; it was here that certain crops and other industries that needed near-zero gravity for better yield were located.

Heero wiped the sweat from his forehead. This colony is definitely hot, he thought. Having the sun practically in your face was something he was not accustomed to inside a colony. After six months of wandering and covering his tracks, he had decided to settle here in a colony that was near Earth, but just unlikely enough for him to disappear in. He had himself hired out as a farm hand, and he had enough money to have his own private quarters, which suited him just fine. He had ditched the spandex and tank-top look in favor of a shirt and a pair of decent denim pants. He kept his work shoes.

When he had left the palace, he had made sure that there were enough implanted programs inside the computer system that he would be getting proper information as to what was going on. That way, he could still keep an eye on things.

He had truly had enough of fighting then, but he simply did not know what to do, and so he wandered, the first step of his disappearance aided by Sally Po, who herself was also quite familiar with his need to get away from all the fighting. After that, he set up one identity after the other, covering his tracks so thoroughly that even Duo's instinctive genius for tracking people wouldn't have been able to find him.

He stopped walking, and stood in the middle of field made golden by wheat. If only Duo were here to see this, he thought to himself. He smiled coldly. If. That was the strangest thing, he thought to himself. I'm human now, but only when I'm in hiding. He still loved Duo with all his heart, but his loyalty was given to Relena. He knew what Relena was fighting for, what she wanted to achieve, and he too, was committed to such ideals - it was just that she was a true idealist. Heero thought of himself as more of a practical man. Of course, you couldn't say such a thing to the Queen. So, he decided to slip away, and always be there when needed. He snapped off a plant shoot, and clamped on it with his teeth. He wanted to see Duo again. But he couldn't. Duo would never have let him go, and neither would he understand this need to be alone. I love you, he thought to himself, but I think we can never be together. He sighed deeply and walked back to his boss's farmhouse.

After dinner, he went into his room and checked his personal computer for messages; this was the last vestige of his war-torn days: the laptop he had used for most of the war. He spent half an hour looking at all the data that had been going through the private interoffice network of the Preventers.

The next day, with his clothes already packed from the night before, he said goodbye to his farmboss and headed for one of the rented, private loading docks at the colony's zero-G ends. He opened the door to the spacedock/warehouse, and looked at the visage of his mobile suit.

He thought of all his love for Duo, and his belief in the ideals of Relena, the Peacecraft Philosophy, and then submerged them into the depths of his soul. His face lost its smile, and he became impassive again, ready to kill, so that what he valued would live. An hour later, the space dock opened it's doors, and the Wing Zero Custom made its way towards Earth, taking off in a fiery blast.

Unknown to its pilot, it was being observed by another suit, which stood with its feet clamped to the colony's wall. It was enshrouded in holographic projections that hid it from sight, yet it was similar to the winged suits of Quatre's dream. Except that this one had a spear-like weapon in its hands. The pilot of the suit shifted in his cockpit seat.

"And so it begins," he murmured. He had a photograph of Heero in his hands, and he was looking intently at Heero's image, two pairs of Prussian blue eyes looking at each other. The pilot brushed away his dark brown hair from his line of vision, and then activated the propulsion controls. The suit leapt up from where it had been anchored, and flew into deep space, disappearing into the stars as its holographic cloaking system activated once more.

End Part 1

(:./lee/earth1)