Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Just Communication. ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )

Just Communication.

Disclaimer.

I don't own Gundam Wing or any of the characters therein. More's the pity. Me being a staunch supporter of 2x1 you can expect some yaoi or shounen-ai here.

Warnings.

Pairings - 2+1 possible 2x1 (what did I tell you) 3x4, 5xS.

Prologue.

In a black and white world there are categorically speaking, two types of mission. Polar opposites to each other and yet both cut from the same mold.

On one side there is the sparkling, dazzling white of "The Midas Touch Mission." Missions that are blessed by the Gods themselves. They run without even the smallest hitch, a slight trip on the stairs will result in the discovery of a secret laboratory; a wrong turn will end up leading the pilots away from a hidden posse of Oz soldiers. Downloading vital information from inside of the enemy's base takes no time at all, the data practically throwing itself into the disc with a happy little cry.

Base schematics are accurate...vents which indicate an exit on the thin blue paper actually do lead to the great outdoors instead of dumping their unsuspecting travellers right into the middle of the Oz officers' mess during happy hour. No one is captured or hurt. Even the Gundams are damage free, as though the bullets and cannon fire have been reflected from their surfaces, ricocheting back to cut down the enemy and aid the rebels further.

These are the missions that make Shinigami smile, Quatre's space heart is as quiet as his taciturn green-eyed partner; even the perfect soldier hides a smirk as he delivers his line, "Ninmu Kanryu."

The second type is also simple to describe. It is what Duo Maxwell jokingly refers to as the "Murphy's Law Mission". Anything that can go wrong WILL go wrong.

The black to enhance the white. This is the flip side of the coin, the missions which seem as if the clothing that the pilots wear is magnetically enhanced...bullets appear to change direction in mid-flight, drawn irrevocably towards the hapless team. A single shot fired from a gun held by a ninety year old blind man suffering from St Vitas Dance so badly that a glass of milk would turn to butter before he managed to raise it to his lips would set off Wing's self destruct mechanism nine times out of ten...the tenth time it would make its home in the Wing pilot's body instead.

Gundams stall, beam cannons jam, and ammo runs out during the single most crucial shoot out of the whole war. When collecting data from the bases computer viruses also decide to tag along for the ride creating mayhem later on when Heero decides to check over the information on his precious laptop before sending it to the doctors. In these missions trips down the stairs lead to nothing more than broken limbs and scratches while wrong turns lead the troupe into the heart of the base.

In a black and white world there are two types of mission.

But, as the Gundam pilots are about to discover, this is most definitely not a black and white world. Midas Touch and Murphy's Law are polar opposites in one respect but they are lovers in another. They touch each other on the basest of levels, bleeding white into black and black into white with glee.

The outcome is always grey. Varying shades granted but no mission will ever be pure white and there is always a little light at the end of the tunnel during the darkest of plights.

When things go wrong and the black begins to ooze its way into the mindset of the mission there is only one thing that will save the outcome. One thing which can bind the five pilots together against the world and ensure they are prepared for what may come.

That thing is Just Communication.

TBC......

Author's Note. I know it seems a little weird right now but bear with me, I do have a point lol. I hope you enjoy this....I know it's a bad time to start another fic but I'm currently in the throes of writers block so I thought I'd break down the walls by striking out in another direction.

Thanks for reading!!