Shades of the Self

[Author's Note: Disregarding Ground Zero and Blind Target, since I don't know exactly where in the timeline they fall. Also disregards the gundams' EW upgrades. | The chapter title has nothing to do with Trowa's Preventer codename. ^_^;]

A.C. 196, March
"This is Sand reporting. All clear in sector RGS-98."
"Storm reporting. Also clear in CNS-32."
"This is HQ. Roger that. Thank you, boys, the replacement patrol will be leaving shortly."
"Roger."
"Roger."
Two mobile suits broke from their assigned sectors to rendezvous at a predetermined point. Heavyarms reached it first. Trowa waited for a minute then ran a systems check for the heck of it. There wasn't much need since the gundam saw little use; he and Quatre were only part-time Preventers seeing as they had plenty to do in civilian life. However, on occasion Noin or Une would call them in when they needed an extra hand or two while recruiting was slow. Outer space was a large area, after all.
Before ten minutes passed Trowa ran a quick scan of the sector. Nothing came up on radar -- in particular, not the special signal the gundams used to identify each other. His grip tightened on the controls as he headed for RGS-98. It might not be anything serious. Quatre would have contacted him if he needed help. And if there was a problem, backup was already on the way.
As soon as he crossed into the sector Sandrock's signature came up, although weakly. That meant the suit wasn't at full power. Trowa tapped a line into the signature. "This is Storm, over." Faint static. "This is Storm. Sand, please respond." Even fainter static. With an exasperated sigh borne of worry, he tried one last time, "Sand, respond!" The comm clicked off. He saw it, now. The other gundam was just drifting. He raced toward it, his hand flying across a control panel as he typed in the codes to get a direct viewlink in Sandrock's cockpit.
He didn't like what he saw. Quatre was held in place by the seat harness, his head lolling to one side. A trickle of blood marred his forehead. But he was breathing, that's all that mattered. Unfortunately, with his helmet off, Trowa couldn't get into the suit to help him. All he could do was continue to talk to him, hoping his voice would rouse the blond pilot before he risked moving Sackrock to the nearest Preventer station, possibly jarring the cockpit in the process. "Quatre? Can you hear me? Quatre? If whatever hit you is still out here, we have to get moving. Quatre?" He pressed a button that made Heavyarms' signal beep loudly in the other suit. "C'mon, you can't be beat just like that," Trowa muttered. Then he thought he saw the other boy stir. "Quatre? Quatre, it's Trowa. Can you hear me?"
The other pilot finally moved, slowly raising his hand to his head. "Sand...here...Over..." He wiped off a bit of the blood and made an annoyed face at it, left eye closed. He leaned his head back and sighed woozily.
"What happened?"
"Got hit from...out of nowhere."
"Any idea what it was?"
"No...I..." His voice was hesitant. "Actually...I--I think..." He hesitated more.
"Wait until we get back to base. Need a haul, or can you pilot?"
"I -- I can. Just give me another minute or two."
"Roger." It would be maybe six until the other patrol arrived. "Nothing broken?"
"Nope. Just a really bad headache." Quatre smiled reassuringly although he still kept one eye closed.
"We should warn the--" Trowa was cut off when Heavyarms' right shoulder guard exploded abruptly, sending him crashing into Sandrock. Quatre slammed back against his seat while Trowa was nearly flung through the viewscreen. He instinctively put both hands out to stop his forward momentum, then jerked his left hand free to hit the button that would adjust thrusters and balance out the suit. His mouth had gone dry; thank God there was only a single missile in each shoulder, or else things would have been a hell of a lot worse.
Quatre groaned and rubbed the back of his head. "It happened again. Radar picked up nothing, and I doubt your gundam is going to randomly blowout boosters." A thought ocurred to him. "Sandrock's powerpack is still there, right?"
"Y-Yeah."
"Then we haven't been sabotaged. Something's attacking us."
"So you registered nothing before..." Trowa typed in a new comm setting. "Fire, this is Storm, over."
"Don't...bother. The frequency is jammed."
"What?"
"I tried to contact you as soon as I was hit. When there was no response...But it seems to have a range of sorts, and at a shorter distance it's open again."
Trowa frowned, murmuring, "Then we'll just wait until backup gets close enough.
In the end it was Sandrock that had to guide a limping Heavyarms, which could manage traveling in a left-angled direction that wasn't useful when they needed to go straight. They made it to the edge of CNS-32 sector where they met up with a small Preventer carrier. The pilot hailed them without visual. "Hey guys, I was sent to scout since we couldn't get ahold of you. I've only got room for one suit." His voice betrayed that he probably wasn't much older than Quatre.
"That's fine," Trowa radio'ed back. "Can we get a line out to maybe tow it?"
"Sure. Pilot's gotta stay to steer though."
Quatre assured that it wouldn't be a problem. He was glad Trowa didn't offer to switch places. He wanted some time alone to think.
Trowa docked Heavyarms in a genuflect position, sparing a half-curious glance at the tarp-covered form of what was obviously another mobile suit as he moved toward the control room hatch. More than half-curious, actually; the Preventers didn't exactly issue MS as standard equipment. But it wasn't his place to question. He waited until he slipped into the chair at the comm panel to the pilot's right before speaking. "No wonder you only had room for one."
"Hmph," was the reply, which managed to sound amused.
Trowa busied himself with contacting the patrol with their status and warning them to keep alert for the mysterious threat.

The two gundam pilots went straight to the medical room once they were returned to the moon base. Resident doctor Sally Po made Quatre sit down long enough for her to check for any lingering effects of a concussion while Trowa got away with a brief examination of his jarred shoulder. Both only had a few bruises. Sally handed a clipboard to Quatre so he could make an official report of the attack. "As if I don't have enough paperwork to fill out," he murmured wryly.
Trowa picked up Quatre's Preventer jacket from the side and placed it around the blond's shoulders, clapping him on the back as encouragement then started toward the door -- he had already completed his report. He had to take a hasty step back as the door swung open and a boy in full Preventer garb entered. Trowa nodded to him.
Sally greeted the boy with a smile. "Quatre, this is the agent who picked you up. Meet Preventer Quake."
The blond pilot made a few last scribbles on the report before looking up. The clipboard fell from his hands. He recognized the unruly brown hair and icy gray eyes. "D-Dimitri Reaves??"
The agent bowed shortly. "Glad to see you remember me."
Sally raised an eyebrow at Quatre. "You know him?"
"I--I -- yes," Quatre stammered, fighting off his surprise.
Dimitri smiled pleasantly, filling in, "We met right after Op M failed. I was on a...personal mission. I also know Duo Maxwell, but I never got a chance to meet the other gundam pilots." He strode forward and shook Quatre's hand. "It's good to see you made it through that final battle in one piece. I gave up my gundam to fight in the last leg of the war, but I managed to recover it."
"The other suit," Trowa commented.
"Yes." Dimitri turned and put out his hand. "And now for an official greeting. My apologies for the stiff treatment earlier. It's an honor to meet another gundam pilot, Trowa Barton." The taller pilot nodded, accepting the handshake warily. "I have to get back to patrol, but I guess I'll see you guys around, eh? Later." He gave a half-salute before disappearing out the door.
Trowa leaned back on his heels, crossing his arms. "Anyone know which side he was on?"
Sally shrugged. "Does it matter? He's dedicated to protecting earth and space."
Quatre leaned over to shakily retrieve the clipboard, only to drop it again when Trowa asked quietly, "Personal mission?"
Quatre swallowed, grabbing the clipboard, holding it in a white-knuckled grip as he replied hoarsely, "Long story." One he wasn't prepared to tell at the moment.

"Ten a.m. shift. Better get some sleep." Quatre tapped the assignment notice posted outside the cadet's quarters. Trowa only nodded as he walked into the room ahead of him. Bunk beds filled the area, and all were empty.
"Une seems to be expecting a lot of recruits." Trowa chose a bed at random, tossing his jacket onto the bunk above.
"More like this is storage for all the military leftovers." Quatre took the bed next to his. He was shrugging out of his uniform when he noticed Trowa giving him an odd look. "What?"
"I was trying to make a joke...I guess I need more practice."
"Oh.." Quatre looked sheepish. "Not used to it, sorry..."
"S'all right." Trowa attempted a light-hearted smile.
"It's been a long day..." Quatre sighed thoughtfully. He laid down, folding his arms behind his head. Of all the people to sign up for the Preventers...Dimitri Reaves... "Trowa?"
"Yes?"
"I think we should be careful around Quake. He no longer had a gundam the last time I saw him." Trowa picked up his meaning. Without a word Quatre knew that he had.
Troubled by memories, the blond boy did not get much sleep.

Dimitri returned to the point where he had found Sand and Storm, this time in his mobile suit, a rebuilt Shockwave sporting a new paint job of midnight blue body armor, pale gray limbs, and copper trim. He scanned the area carefully twice. Turning up nothing, he accessed the Preventer databank to see the exact coordinates each pilot had been patrolling. Although Trowa's were closer he decided to go to Quatre's first. As he neared the area, scanners picked up traces of metal. He magnified the scan then brought up the images. Most of the metal was charred but a few were large enough to retain some red paint farthest from the edges. He assumed they were pieces from Heavyarms. Spaced several feet away from them were more shards, these white and dull grey -- perhaps from Sandrock. He gathered all he could into a container. Still, there was something else he was searching for...He expanded the scanner's spectrum, hoping it could pick up the specific emission he knew just had to be present. He moved even further out of the area before a faint reading registered. He sped toward it, fearing he might lose it.
The signal became stronger. Its sourse then appeared on the screen. He reached for it -- a slender object of roughly average human height, a funnel shape at one end. He frowned as he closed Shockwave's fist around it tightly. Can't afford to lose evidence.

Quatre and Trowa were reduced to using a bland cruiser for the next morning's patrol. Heavyarms needed another day's worth of repairs. Although it was in working order, Sandrock just barely fit into the carrier portion of the cruiser. Quatre insisted on bringing an MS, however, as a precaution. He had been very quiet all morning otherwise. Trowa now glanced over at him from the comm panel as they cleared the first docking station beyond the moon base. The blond's face was pensive while he fidgeted with the scanner controls. He stopped abruptly, inclining his head to gaze at something beyond the window -- probably not even seeing the shuttle at all, if Trowa reckoned correctly. He decided to take the previous night's warning to light and inquire about it. "Can I safely assume that Dimitri is in some way related to Alexa?"
Quatre stiffened. He whispered, "You remember..." Then he coughed and replied flatly, "He is her brother."
"And you met him when..."
"...He was trying to kill me, at first blaming me for her death." He sighed. "It was not long after OZ cornered us. Duo was with me and Dimitri tracked us to the desert estate. He gave us a bit of trouble before we temporarily ditched him at Alexa's Siberia base. He caught up with me again later at the estate while Duo was in Africa meeting Imena. We fought and he...tried to self-destruct but it, shall I say, back-fired. Eventually we came to an understanding. However, there was much more involved..." He went on to describe the interruption by Advisor V, and also back tracked to the computers at the Siberia base.
Trowa made no acknowledgement until he was done. "Are we to trust him, or not?"
"I don't know...If he was serious about having a gundam rather than a regular mobile suit then he needed to have someone with influence to build it. It could mean he teamed up with his old mentor again...but I shouldn't go making assumptions."
"Yet it doesn't hurt to consider the possibilities."
"Yes...but...I just have this feeling..." Quatre fell silent, gazing out at the stars again. "I'm not certain if it has to do with Dimitri or...something else..."
Trowa did not offer any comment. He turned back to the control panel, leaving Quatre to his thoughts. Instincts alone had already told him to be wary of Dimitri even without speculating on how his past was affecting him in the present.
The comm alert sounded. Trowa flicked the response switch. "This is Fire, over."
"Storm here."
"Change your course to rendezvous at RGS-98."
"Roger."
"Fire, out."
Quatre uttered a short chuckle as he swiveled to type in the proper coordinates. "How terse of her."
"They might have found some clues to the attack."
Quatre stiffened once again, creating a tenseness that drew Trowa's attention to him. "Dimitri was patrolling there."
Trowa was genuinely confused by the certainty in the blond's voice. "Were you hacking reports when I wasn't looking?"
Quatre didn't answer.

RGS-98 was devoid of human interference at the time they arrived. Mere eyesight didn't reveal any other transports and the scanner/radar showed the same. "Fire, this is Storm, over. Fire? Come in, Fire..." Comm, naturally, yielded similiar results.
Quatre's fists hit the panel in front of him. "That dampener again!" He rose and strode to the back of the cruiser, pausing to fumble with the latch on a cabinet. He pulled out the space suit contained within then tugged off his Preventer jacket. "I'm going out there to check around. Keep trying to hail Miss Noin." Trowa nodded and prepped the airlock.
Systems check, one hundred percent output. Quatre waited for the carrier compartment to finish folding out. The comm clicked. "Be careful."
"I will."
There was a pause. "Try to stay close enough so we don't lose contact."
"Roger." Not that we know what the range is, the blond mused to himself. He tagged the cruiser's signature on the radar just in case that, too, was knocked out by whatever was jamming the comm. If it was indeed affected he would know when he reached the field's boundaries.
Ten feet away from the cruiser and the signal was still strong. Twenty, the same. At forty it grew weaker. He clicked the comm. "Sand here, do you read me?" No response. "Storm, do you read me?" He waited then steered back the way he had come. At thirty feet he tried again. "Storm, do you read? ...Fire, do you read?" Hailing Noin was an afterthought. With a frown he adjusted power to the verniers and sped to where radar indicated the cruiser's location.
Abruptly the signal began to move. Quatre shifted Sandrock's angle to follow. "Storm, come in!"
"I've been hailing you for five minutes. What happened?"
"The dampening field is about twenty feet out but I didn't see anything that might be causing it. Did you have better luck?"
"I've got a weak signal. It might be Noin's shuttle."
Quatre checked Sandrock's scanners. "I'm not seeing anyth-- wait! I've got it." He quickly caught up to their cruiser then passed it. The second signal became stronger. Soon the shuttle came into sight; it looked much like theirs, only it appeared that the back end had been sliced off. As he neared, Quatre also saw that the two lasers on the front had been completely destroyed. "Fire, this is Sand, can you hear me?"
"Roger."
He let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. "Are you all right?"
"Yes. My ship's trashed, though."
"So I've noticed. What was it?"
"...I don't know."
This isn't a coincidence... Quatre frowned. He radio'ed both cruisers. "I'm going to scout around. You'll be fine for transfer, right?" Two affirmatives and another warning to be careful. He positioned Sandrock's shield on its left arm as precaution then headed away, switching his attention from scanners to regular visual in case a trace of anything came up.
And he did find something, in the form of short bursts of beam fire that he just barely avoided, taking the brunt of it on the shield. He hastily drew the heat shorters but the source of the fire was no where in sight. Then an object came zooming out of the distance, the tell-tale glow of a beam weapon in the lead. A beam blade would be able to cut through the cruiser!! He couldn't believe his eyes when the object was close enough to give a slightly better look -- and it was getting too close for comfort. It is Shockwave, isn't it... Feeling a sudden surge of anger, he rushed at the approaching suit. At the same time the comm clicked. "This is Preventer Quake! Prepare to surrender for attacking our shuttle--!"
The proclamation was cut off in a gasp. "Oh my God! Sand...I'm sorry, I didn't know it was you. The signal was scrambled...It didn't I.D. you as a gundam!"
Quatre swallowed back his anger. His eyes were trained on Shockwave's shield -- with the sonic part of it being useless in space, it had been compensated for the lack with two gun barrels protruding from under the spikes -- the source of the beam fire.
"Quatre, are you all right? I'm sincerely sorry. My radar only saw the plain signature, and I assumed it was the attacker. When I couldn't reach Noin, I assumed..."
The blond did not reply for a long moment. Only when he was sure he wouldn't say anything uncalled for did he speak. "Storm and I found Noin. She should be aboard our cruiser now." Without another word he turned Sandrock toward the cruiser's last position. He should have seen me easily. That story was too thin. He pushed away his suspicion. It could wait until they got back to the lunar base.
He tapped into the cruiser's frequency directly so Dimitri wouldn't also hear. "Noin, did you know that Quake was out here?"
"No," came her surprised reply. "But I have stranger news. I was telling Trowa how lucky I was that you two showed up. He said you had received a message calling you here. But I hadn't yet sent a message..."

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(c) 2001-2004 Autumn Loweck. This work may not be copied, distributed, or reprinted without the author's permission. Character of Dimitri and mecha Shockwave are property of Autumn Loweck (aka Shiri) and may not be "borrowed" or mentioned in other works without notifying the author first. Characters of Quatre R. Winner, Trowa Barton, Noin(Fire), Preventers, Sandrock, and Heavyarms belong to the creators of the GundamWing series, Sotsu Agency, Sunrise, Bandai, and whoever else in Japan involved in this most cool anime.