A.C. 194, December
The small steel box on the bare metal floor emitted a buzzing noise. It wasn't particularly loud, but the fifteen-year-old boy kept glancing over at it. It sat a good seven feet away from where he slouched against an unmarked crate, with several other crates and boxes piled around him. The small supply bay was unusually dark for it being the middle of the afternoon. And certainly no one should have left any live electronics lying around. He thought about it for a few minutes since he did have some free time on his hands. Flight simulations were done for the day, and he had improved his targetting skills by five points, so he had the run of the place for the moment.
He took two steps out of his spot, cast a careful look around, then took three more bolder steps toward the buzzing container. He was brought to a stop a moment later by his older sister's voice.
"Don't touch it."
She emerged from the shadows on his right, her eyes stern even as she was tying off a bandage on her left arm. His gaze was questioning in return, but she yanked down the sleeve of her sweater, halting any comments on the matter. She nodded toward the box to remind him to focus on one thing at a time. "How long have you been staring at that thing?"
"How long were you in the shadows?" he countered.
"Dimitri..." The girl sighed. "I'm serious. I was looking for you. I want to talk to you about the mobile suit--"
"Again?" He hung his head, although it was more in exasperation than guessing it was lecture time. He moved away from the box toward her, meeting her solemn gaze.
"I want you to reconsider your answer from last time." Her voice had softened, almost into a pleading tone. "I am proud of how you've handled all the training, and I think you can put your skills to good use...but not on this project."
He scowled at her. "Can't I make my own decision about this?"
"Haven't you already? I'm just trying to dissuade you. It makes more sense for me to go-"
"Why?! Why shouldn't you be the one to go off and have a 'peaceful life'?!" The boy clenched his fists at his sides; his anger had already gotten the better of him. He didn't care. He hated it when she brought up this argument. But nary a week passed when she didn't try.
She placed her hands on his shoulders. "Dimitri, c'mon. You're mature enough to understand. Either way I may not be alive by this time next year, so it's better if I take this responsibility."
His eyes squeezed shut. "Why do you have to talk like that?!" He began to tremble.
Her hands drifted away, then she embraced him. "I'm sorry, little brother...but that's how things are going to be. All I can do is accept it. I wish you could..."
He uttered an indignant cry and squirmed out of her grasp. He had turned, halfway back toward the mysterious box, swiping at one eye with his shirt sleeve, when the main lights of the bay suddenly went on. The siblings looked toward the adjacent wall. The girl flung an arm up to shield her eyes from the glare, while her brother pulled a gun from seemingly nowhere.
"Great reflexes, Dimitri. You've really improved." The blond-haired young man standing by the light switch didn't look the least bit concerned that he had almost just been shot.
Dimitri tucked the gun away beneath the back of his shirt. "Hello to you, too, Nicolas. This yours?" He gestured toward the box.
"Yup. I wanted to see if someone would notice it." He flashed a grin as he loped across the room, his hands not leaving the pockets of his denim jacket. Once he reached the box, however, he removed them to fiddle with the latches on the cover. Dimitri leaned closer, interested in seeing what contraption Nicolas was building now. Neither of the siblings cared for the mechanic's perky attitude, but they did agree he had great skill at his profession, with four more years experience than Dimitri.
This time, however, the protective sister was particulatly irked by his dismissal of the gun. She nudged him in the side with her booted foot as she murmured, "I was trying to discourage assassination behavior. How about if you be so generous when he's doing electronic work?"
Nicolas looked up at her with a calm smile. "I'll remember to do that. But this mission is still important, Alexa. You know that. I think that the more colonists who are aware and able to be involved, the clearer our objective will be to those on Earth."
Alexa gazed off at the far wall for a moment, thinking to herself, And just what is that objective? Is everyone involved focused on the same thing? Without the other two noticing, her eyes took on a distant glaze, and her mind turned onto another path. But Nicolas' voice broke before her mind wandered very far.
"And how are you feeling today, Alexa?"
Her gaze snapped back into the moment, and she cast a dark look at him. "You know the answer to that."
He studied her for several seconds, but as her expression became more warning, he forced himself to shrug then return his attention to the sound box, and he began to show Dimitri how the different toggles affected the frequency of the buzz -- something he was testing to either interfere with or scramble communication signals. Alexa left them to it, wandering away from them and out of the supply room. It was only a short walk to the mech hangar, hidden here in the subcolony R-23985 of the LaGrange Point Three. She absently ran her hand along the segmented metal wall, ignoring the coldness against her fingers.
It's only a matter of months before the people of the Earth learn of the colonists' desires. Well, of certain colonists' desires. She glanced toward the closed doors leading to the hangar, a slight frown pulling at the corners of her mouth. Abruptly she doubled over as pain lanced through her side. She moved one hand to the spot, then the other before she could stop the reflex, and so ended up falling heavily with her shoulder against the wall, sending another jolt of pain through the very same side. She sucked in a breath and forced herself to stand upright.
...Only a matter of months.

The hangar doors slid open. A man in his late forties, wearing a white lab coat, stepped out and turned to his left. Something made him glance to the right instead. "Alexa!" He immediately strode to the girl's side. "Here, dear child, let me help you." He held out both arms to her in offer of support.
She raised her eyes to his face. "Advisor--" Just then a third twinge stabbed into her. She jerked toward the wall again.
The man swiftly wrapped his left arm around behind her, taking her right arm in his other hand and directing it over his shoulders. "Come now, let's find you a seat and get you something for that. Just hold on to me, my dear. I'll help you."

Nicolas sat calmly with his hands on his folded knees as he watched Dimitri poke through the box's circuitry with a fine screwdriver, testing out adjustments to the frequencies. A faint scowl lingered on the younger boy's face. Nicolas understood why. "Maybe you should listen to your sister a bit more. She's trying to do what's best for you."
The scowl became much more obvious, although Dimitri didn't look up from what he was doing. "Why are you suddenly taking her side?! Before, you said more colonists should be involved!"
"And they can be involved, without using a mobile suit. Civilian support is needed even more than military. I don't want to have to build another of those things, you know." Nicolas gazed at the far wall. "One is already too many."
Now Dimitri looked at him, his face astonished. "You don't think the gundam is needed?"
"Something is needed, yeah, but...call it a hunch. If the rumors of other groups like ours is true, then I think we might be -- pardon the phrase -- going in for overkill. It's a lot of power to throw around." He then frowned a little, a closed look settling over his face.
Dimitri waited for him to say more, but judging by his expression, he wasn't sure the senior mechanic was even going to continue, so he focused on the box again.
He was pleasantly surprised when Nicolas spoke up thoughtfully, "Ever since I first met your sister, she's been like that. You have to give her credit for it. Picky about who she's friendly with, but she's got something going on inside that makes her want what's in the best interest for others -- even if they don't agree." He reached over and ruffled Dimitri's hair, grinning.
Dimitri swatted his hand away. "Uh, yeah, we've both known her since we were little. I know what she's like. You're talking strange again."
"But you're also her brother, so you think you know." Nicolas restrained the urge to frown at the last comment. If only he was aware of what he was talking about. But then, that makes two of us.
Dimitri scowled again. "What makes you the expert?"
Again, I wish I knew. "...Call it...elder brother intuition."
The younger boy snorted in disdain. "You are strange."
Now it was Nicolas' turn to be angry. "Are you even listening to yourself? Have you even been listening to me?" With a sigh of disgust -- as much at himself as the confounding younger boy -- he got to his feet, brushing non-existant dust off his pants, then turned toward the exit. Dimitri made to follow, but Nicolas put a hand on the boy's head and pushed him back down. "See if you can reset five other frequencies, then maybe I'll talk to you again." As he began to walk away, he threw in, "But only about machines."

A sour feeling roiled in Nicolas' stomach, something he felt all too often lately. Dimitri wasn't the one to talk to. He had wanted to speak of something, and starting with an observation about Alexa had seemed like a good approach...but Dimitri was already in denial about an event that had yet to occur. Nicolas sighed. I should probably just go talk to Alexa. She might even make more sense of it than I can.
Sometimes he truly doubted any possible wisdom he had gathered in twenty years of life when he had to go consult a sixteen-year-old girl with a terminal illness to give advice on something he couldn't even explain.
The corridor leading to their personal rooms seemed to be more dimly lit than usual. Nicolas frowned, suddenly feeling uneasy. He continued toward Alexa's room, although he did take one, quick paranoid glance over his shoulder.
Something just didn't feel right.
He stopped in front of Alexa's door, raising his hand to knock, but he paused for a second before rapping his knuckles on an eye-level wooden slat. Several seconds passed, then the piece slid away to allow him to see Alexa's slightly irritated gaze. Her eyes softened upon seeing who it was, making him wonder who that angry look had been reserved for. However, her tone was closed enough to make him step back. "Nicolas. What can I do for you? I was trying to sleep."
His face showed his chagrin, and he stammered, "I...um...I wanted to ask you about something."
The look in her eyes changed, and within the split-second when he blinked, she had yanked the door open. As she had said, she was dressed for sleep in a navy blue tank top and matching shorts, with a pair of ankle socks thrown on to avoid the cold of the metal floor. She glared at him expectantly; he hastily bowed an apology and entered after realizing he had been staring at a newly acquired cloth bandage wrapped around her left forearm. She closed the door after him.
He turned to face her, not entirely certain of whether to stand or if he should presume to sit on the bed. There was very little other furniture other than one of the computer desks they all had. "This may sound weird, but, well...I've been having this strange feeling about things."
"Which 'things'," she asked with a degree of serious interest he hadn't been expecting.
"I--I'm not sure exactly." When she scowled, he forced himself to think faster. "But I think it could be about Operation Meteor, or the tenseness around the hangar. I haven't felt it anytime I've been on the main colony level." He looked her square in the face for a moment, then blundered onward, "It's very difficult to explain. It's--"
"Feelings, not words."
"Yes."
"Don't think that it's only just anxiety over Operation M."
Now he was seriously doubting his seniority. "M-May I sit down?" She nodded, and they both took a seat on the side of the bed. He murmured thoughtfully, "So it isn't just me then?"
"It could be just the two of us." She eyes him carefully for a long moment.
"What?"
"Help me get rid of Dimitri."
"What!?" He drew away, shocked, his train of thought derailed.
"Not like that, stupid! Get him out of here, away from the gundam. I'm going to take this mission even if I have to fight him every step of the way." Her eyes darkened in what seemed to be anger.
"Alexa, are you sure..."
"Yes." I have to go to the Earth.
"It's not going to be easy. Advisor V has accepted his agreement. We'd have to do nothing short of kidnap him."
"Then we will." I have to go to the Earth. I don't know why, but I must.
Nicolas frowned but he knew he would give the matter some thought. He had already been partially in accord with her about Dimitri not being the best candidate. But then, he wasn't sure either of the siblings should have to contend with it. Dimitri was worried about his sister, and Alexa needed to worry about herself. "Well," he began, "If you want to drag him kicking and screaming out of here, it would be easier if you just went with him. We'll find someone else to pilot the gundam. Maybe even me." He gave a weak smile.
Alexa scoffed. "You can build machines, but I know you can't handle the weapons. No, I have to--" She was interrupted by a coughing fit.
"Alexa!" He caught her arm, holding her as she shook. He waited until the episode had passed before patting her shoulder and saying quietly, "Maybe you should reconsider."
"NO!" She leveled a defiant glare on him. "The Advisor will give me medicine. I can make it through the first stage, at least. I must! Now go." She roughly pulled her arm free, anger burning in her eyes.
Nicolas hastily stood and retreated to the door, face solemn. "Alexa, I don't mean to offend you. I only want to help you." Her expression did not change. He continued on the way to the door.
He was halfway down the hall when the thought arose of how it was not anger, but determination.

Alexa dreamed of a planet she had never seen.
Unfamiliar images flowed through her sleeping mind. She had seen photos and videos, yes, but nothing compared to seeing everything in person.
Except she wasn't really there in person, despite how vivid it felt.
The sun high above was almost blinding. It was too hot to be wearing a heavy sweater. She pulled it off, straightened her tank top, then held the sweater over her head to act as shade for her eyes. There seemed to be nothing but pale yellow dust for miles around. No, it was sand. The hot breeze blew it in small whirlwinds. Heat rose from the dunes, making the air waver and dance. She did not know how she got there.
She turned and tried to keep inside the meager shade offered by a westward sloping dune. A shimmering figure appeared over the ridge ahead, walking with slow, measured steps. There was a calm and noble manner to his carriage that transversed the sliding sand. As he came closer, she could make out more details. He wore a pale djellabah criss-crossed by a belt linked over his shoulder. A sheathed jambiya rested on the portion angled close to his hip. Over it was a plain white burnoose. Upon his head was a white kaffiyeh, held in place by a light blue agal. The hair that did show beneath the headcloth was golden. His skin was fair.
The words for the items were foreign to her, but they came to her easily and she soon understood what they meant. She crept to the edge of the shade, watching the newcomer with caution. His face was youthful. "A desert prince?" she wondered aloud.
He opened his eyes as he neared, a gentle smile coming to his face. Those eyes seemed to be a fathomless dark blue. She drew back, huddling as close to the dune as possible, even though she knew it did not offer anywhere to hide. She did not feel threatened by the stranger, but something about him felt unusual.
He raised one hand and called out a greeting in a foreign tongue. Just as with the items of clothing, they sounded correct before translating to words she understood. "Salaam, fellow warrior. I am journeying a hard trail to seek my family's peace. Although we meet briefly in these sands, there will be a legacy to find amidst the night. Stars arrive soon." He gestured toward the sky. Her eyes followed to where a seeping indigo indicated the east. "Fare well, maid'n warrior."
She looked back toward him at the words, but he had vanished. She blinked, startled.
The land began to darken as the sun continued down along the western horizon. The wind grew cold. She hastily tugged the sweater on again. When her face cleared the neckline, the entire scenery had changed. She was standing in a snow-dusted field, a sprawl of buildings to her right. She spun quickly. The shadow of the dune had become the shadow of the gundam she intended to pilot in her brother's stead.
It stood dark and silent, although its head was turned toward the buildings. The wind blew again, whipping through her hair and finding its way into her clothes, making her shiver and cry out. She suddenly felt very cold and alone.

Alexa cried out in the waking world, shivering and convulsing on her bed. Her eyes flew open and she cringed at the unwelcome dark. She irrationally clawed at the air above her, feeling suffocated by an invisible weight. When neither rock nor dirt met her clutching fingers, she shivered again and tried to calm herself. The cold stayed, however. She wouldn't have minded the warmth of that desert just then.
The image of the stranger remained with her. She did not know what his cryptic words referred to...unless it was a hint about Operation Meteor.

A.C. 195
"You seem distracted today, Nicolas. That isn't good, with tomorrow being the big day." The young man looked up from the computer he had been running simulations on to see Advisor V standing beside him. He glanced back at the screen -- the same simulation was playing over and over.
He hastily turned it off. "I'm worried about Alexa."
A strange smile came to the Advisor's face. "Oh, we all are."
Nicolas looked around, making sure no one else was in earshot. Then he leaned closer and whispered, "She wants to take Dimitri's place as pilot."
"Oh, I knew that."
"And you didn't discourage her?!" Nicolas glanced around again, realizing he'd been a bit too loud. There was no indication anyone had been near enough to hear. He then gazed at the scientist watchfully, before speaking in a quiet tone, "She said you had medicine for her. Can you at least cure her before she leaves? Give her a chance to live through this war."
"Cure her?" V rounded on him with his eyebrows raised halfway up his forehead. "My dear boy, I cured her years ago."
Nicolas' hands fell like lead onto the keyboard. A smile formed on the scientist's face that struck the young man to the core with the horrible realization that the man he had entrusted with his life for the past fifteen years now seemed utterly sinister.
Advisor V continued as if Nicolas hadn't even flinched. "Do you remember the other boy from the clinic she talked to?"
Nicolas numbly inclined his head.
"His genetics contained the immunity needed to temper her illness."
"And mine." It sounded as only a half-question.
V nodded. "A slight variation, but the research did give me a clue to yours. You are fortunate to need shots only once every two weeks." He then lidded his eyes halfway. "You'd do well to remember just who kept you alive long enough to realize your dreams of making a worthwhile machine, and continues to provide you with it."
Nicolas swallowed with difficulty. Yet, when he spoke, his tone could have rent stone. "So why is she ill...again?"
A worse expression than the previous smile oozed across V's face, sending a double shot of revulsion down the mechanic's spine. "I'm still doing research."

Nicolas wandered the halls that night with the weight of a thousand condemnations on his shoulders. V had purposely given him information he knew the mechanic would want to spread, but he had also thoroughly chained him with his threat. Either of the siblings would take vengeance upon their caretaker without second thought. V would be prepared, too, and would know Nicolas had told them. He would stop them and the mechanic would pay the price of telling. The only thing he could do for them was stay quiet -- and alive.
He walked in the direction of Alexa's room. He needed to double check with her about Dimitri anyway, but also began to hope he could find a way to warn her, somehow. By the time he arrived at the door, he still had no idea what to say. He knocked once and called, "It's Nicolas." It opened immediately. She had been waiting.
"The car is ready," she said without preamble as he closed the door.
He nodded, following her to sit on the bed. "I'll be waiting at five. The mission doesn't start until oh-eight hundred, but we'll need to delay enough so Dimitri doesn't have time to get back here."
"Too bad one of us can't stay here to ensure that, but I can't drag him off alone, and he won't behave for you if I'm not there to see him off." She gave a wry smile. "So we'll be a late meteor." Nicolas nodded again, but found he couldn't manage a reply or other comment. His eyes drifted to the floor. Alexa placed a hand on his shoulder briefly. "Don't worry, we'll pull this off."
"I'm...I'm sure we will." He glanced at her, then back down again. His mind churned desperately. "Alexa," he started, reaching for her hand, "We've known each other a long time. I'm not in denial like Dimitri, but...I'm...concerned for you, too. I--" He squeezed her hand and tried to look her in the eye. If only I could tell you!
She looked down at his hand uncomfortably. "Nicolas..." He brought up his other hand, gently cupping her cheek and directing her gaze back to his face. She permitted him a few seconds of that before pulling his hand away. "If you seem to be suggesting something, rethink it," she said softly. "Nicolas, I don't love you that way."
He nodded. "I know. It doesn't matter. What does is that before you go off to die, you need to know you are loved."
Accepting this, she allowed herself to relax in his embrace.

At five o'clock the next morning Alexa snuck from her room to the adjacent hallway. Nicolas was already waiting outside Dimitri's door. He waved an envelop at her, the name of a space transport airline printed on one corner. She managed a smile. Now for the difficult part.

At oh-eight hundred hours, Advisor V stood gazing out of the port window of an airlock, his eyes on the planet that seemed just out of reach. He could have traced the paths of five, maybe six meteors from there, if he had felt inclined to. For a moment he clasped his chin thoughtfully, then slid his thumb up to scratch his moustache. At length he turned away, folding his hands behind his back. As he walked, one hand shifted to a side pocket while the other ran over his hair.
He walked to the mecha hangar, where several technicians were milling aimlessly, although a few of them had a distracted look as though they knew they should be doing something. Their consternation was due to the seven-odd ton, sixteen point three meter tall mobile suit in their midst still being there. Its designated pilot had disappeared without a trace, and they had not planned for a replacement. At least, the techs haven't, V thought. Unless Nicolas was fool enough to betray me. He went over to a computer terminal set apart from the main bulk of equipment. He typed a quick series of commands, then shook his head at the resulting data. No. It's still too early. He returned to the main screen and called up a report on the gundam's status. Everything was flawlessly in the green, except the pilot condition.
He turned away and sighed. For the moment all they could do was wait. He was a very patient man.
Less than an hour later one of the side entrances opened, and V whirled expectantly, faking an expression of ire. Internally he smirked with something bordering on wicked triumph. He made his voice stern. "What are you doing here, girl? Where is Dimitri?"
"He isn't able to attend," Alexa replied calmly.
V built up some fury. "What-?! Where?!!"
"You need a pilot for this thing, don't you?" She interrupted, jabbing a thumb toward the mobile suit poised silently to her left.
"And you know how to pilot it?" he inquired, mocking and skeptical.
Her eyes narrowed in warning. "You know I do."
"And this 'thing', as you put it, is a gundam. Do you accept that responsibility?"
"LunaAria."
"...What?"
"It is not just some 'thing', or just some gundam. I name it LunaAria, and I will see it fulfill its responsibility."
He settled back on his heels, clasping his hands behind his back. "Very well. I think you know the mission briefing already, too. I will contact you when needed...and you know where to strike in general." With an extremely curt nod of her head, she turned away to start preparing for launch, secretly relieved that she had avoided interrogation. Meanwhile, V shifted his attention to the computers to enter the new pilot information When no one but the monitor before him could see his face, he let slip an outward smirk.
Go, my unwitting little hound, and find what I seek.