"Let me get this straight," Trent Wolfe was struggling to contain his immerse anger," We have lost six bases in less than three hours and you are telling me only now!? Imbecile!" Books and paper were flung all over the room. The three men who brought him this news stood their ground silently, even as a file slapped one of them on the face and scattered into a few pieces of paper. Trent continued," You know what the problem is here? All these six bases are all of our bases in Asia! Now, we are blind! Deaf! Comprehend? We have lost total control over the other side of the globe!"

After a few more minutes of screaming and ranting, the commander of the Earth Frederation calmed down a little and asked, "So, do we know who did it?"

"As a matter of fact, sir, we do. From-"

"Spit it out!"

"It's W.O.R.L.D., sir." Another one of the officials spoke.

"And what the hell is this W.O.R.L.D.? What is it and why did it attack us?"

"The Freeden IV is on that, sir."

"So we... don't...know?"

"The Freeden IV is finding out, sir."

Another burst of emotion swept through the commander," Don't tell me what I already know! I'm not an idiot! Screw Freeden IV!" There wasn't time to contact the Freeden IV and certainly not to wait for Admiral Jamil to finish his probe, he thought, not without a sense of disgust. Unlike the previous commander, Trent was young, energetic, charismatic, and more ruthless. The treaty between the Earth Federation and the Space colonies were actually in his favour. It was difficult to imagine that the previous commander had thought that absolute power was in conquering everything. That man was wrong, so he's dead now. Absolute power lies in domination. Earth was enough. As long as there is a place where he had absolute power.

Recently, however, another mysterious force known only as W.O.R.L.D. appeared in his neighbourhood to vie for control, and had amazingly taken out all six of his main facilities in Asia. Even though he certainly had more than that, the rest were engineering, research, manufacturing facilities and the such. All in all, he had lost coverage of Asia. Something had to be done!

"Listen up," he spoke softly, looking at each of the three officials in the eye," I want mass production of the NRX-020 Daughtress Knights. Immediately."

"But..but..the ah, the treaty said-"

"The treaty said that we cannot amass armies, sir." Another official spoke for the stammering one.

"We have a right to protect our lands and influence here on Earth. I'm sure they'll allow for that. Anything more?" The glare said it all, and the officials noticed and got ready to leave, stooping down to pick up some documents before heading for the door.

One man remained," Commander Trent, sir, I have news from our communications crews. It seems like the Satellite system on the Moon has been started up again."

* * *

Space was never alien to him. Lonely, maybe. And certainly quiet. And definitely boring. But never alien. Lancerow Dawell could sit in his cockpit forever, drifting through the endless sea of darkness and space junk, listening to her songs and secrets. There were times when he actually felt the power in him again, the ability to hear the thoughts of humanity.

"Hey there, Mr Dawell!" A loud shrill voice cut in onto the screen, jerking him from his dreamy state. He opened his eyes to see a red comet flash past him several times, circling his Crouda at an incredible speed. His head quickly switched from dreamy to dizzy.

"Stop it, Ennil, you're making me puke." the Crouda extended a fat right arm and grabbed the G-Falcon in one fluid motion. However, the force of stopping shook the plane strongly and Ennil El was thrown back violently on her seat.

She ran a hand through her short red hair and complained," You sure don't know how to treat a lady right."

Jamil Neate was not the only one keeping the peace in the treaty and maintaining that all else stays good in the world. Lancerow Dawell also had a small team in space to sure that nothing goes wrong. Being more used to space and lacking a home, Ennil El kind of stuck around with him, irritating Lancerow to no end. However, he reflected, looking after space is about as exciting as observing bacteria growth. The spacenoids are simply not interested in any kind of troublemaking and politics are way out of his reign. In other words, Lancerow was bored out of his life (five years, imagine it! And with Ennil too!) and managed to squeeze a ticket down to the blue globe for a visit to an old friend/rival.

He can't wait.

* * *

This is the place, Crash Tricre thought, as he approached a small hill. Even with the severed arm, the gundam was still able to operate efficiently and reached this desert in a matter of hours. His late dad told him of the location of the forest where his parents found him six years ago, and this hill, a few miles from the forest, was the only recognisable structure for the next fifteen miles. It seemed stupid, coming all the way and hunting so long for a hill. But he had no choice, his past was the only thing he could try to get back now. There was no reason a boy was found walking in the middle of a desert. (The forest was in the middle of the desert, and Crash's parents used to go there regularly to relax and escape from civilisation.)

Upon closer inspection, Crash found that there was a small metallic door by the side of the hill. Other than that, the hill looked perfectly normal. As the gundam X approached the hill, a slit opened on the ground behind. Crash turned around just in time to see the it slide back together and resemble a perfectly innocent and dusty looking desert ground.

What the-?

Suddenly, a shadow fell across the land. Instinctively, Crash looked up and saw a lone mobile suit in the air, just floating there and observing him. It was not a gundam. However, it was also something he had never seen before. The mobile suit was an all-white, sleek model that did bear a resemblance to a gundam, though. It bore two huge thrusters on its back and had a small shield attached to its left forearm.

Should I fire first? Crash was undecided. The unknown mobile suit was not doing anything, just floating there. Maybe I should establish contact, he finally thought, emitting from different frequencies to request for a 'chat'. However, there was no reply from its pilot and this whole affair was really giving Crash a bad feeling.

He was wondering what to do next when two packs slid up from the two thrusters of the unknown MS and it reached for the back to draw out what seemed like two beamsabers. That's all I need to know! The gundam X drew its own beamsaber and charged into the air. Why do I always have to fight during first encounters?

The two beamsabers drawn by the MS suddenly extended to form what looked like two long spears. Confused, Crash slowed down just in time to dodge the first spear, which streaked past his chest and buried itself into the sand, then switched off its own beam. Looking back up, he saw the MS aim with the other beamspear with one hand and reached for another from the pack with the other hand. What kind of fighting is that? Crash just could not understand. What MS throws beamspears as its primary weapon?

The next spear caught him in the left shoulder, dragging the gundam X down along with it and onto the ground, where it was pinned. Okay, Crash mentally kicked himself, adding to the vast network of pyschological scars, that kind. He tried to stand but found out that the spear was stuck fast and deep into the ground. Even trying to pull it out using the right hand was impossible, due to the angle.

Well, sh*t.

Now he understood. Even though there were a very limited supply of these beamspears, in the hand of an expert thrower, it's more effective than normal beam rifles. Especially against a gundam. In a duel.

The white mobile suit was now holding up yet another beamspear, and readied to throw. Panicking, Crash shook the joysticks violently but the gundam X, damaged and fatigued, could barely raise its right arm in a futile attempt to block.

* * *

"Let him go," Jamil Neate sighed. This was the second time he had said this phrase today. Then again, a lot had happened today as well.

"What?" Witz Sou was nearly exploding, his face red as a tomato and steam was forcing out of his ears," But he stole my Gundam Airmaster Burst!"

Garrod Ran walked from the front of the bridge and rested a hand on Witz's shoulder," Shagia is dead, can't you understand his feelings?"

The door slid open and Tiffa Adil ran in, hair streaming behind her. She saw the gundam fly at the same direction where Crash Tricre went, and placed a hand on her chest," Olba will die too."

* * *

"A miracle from God!" Crash Tricre couldn't help but exclaim, when he saw the incoming beamspear suddenly turn and stabbed into the ground next to him. However, there appeared to be yet another MS which materialised out of nowhere a distance away. It was a red-white gundam. An Airmaster, with a scar across its chest.

"Apparently not," came the mocking voice of Seanelius Winner, holding up one smoking beam rifle. Then the Airmaster's head turned towards the white mobile suit," Earle, can you leave him with me? We have something to settle." The other hand pointed at the scarred chest. The white MS gave him a thumbs-up, turned, and descended into a hole which opened up in the ground.

Pinned down like an insect, Crash Tricre just wanted to get the hell out of here, fast. But nooo, these weirdos just have to keep coming, one after another. Still, what the heck was this guy doing here? This place may be related to my past and this pilot has something to do with it, too. Does that mean the massacre of the town occured because of me? It can't be... his head lowered. First, I failed to protect it; and now you tell me it's because of me!?

"You!" Crash glared at the blond pilot," Why did you attack my town? Who are you?" Then he broke down," Who am I?"

The ground rumbled, and a loud whining sound was heard by the both of them. Seanelius's gundam dodged a few beam shots coming from afar and quickly retreated, not sure of who the enemy was. The image was magnified by the gundam X's monitors to show the blue Airmaster Burst, which had its formerly broken leg hastily welded back on. Had Witz came all the way for him?

"I'm here to seek revenge for Shagia!" An unfamilar voice broke into Seanelius's cockpit, and was overheard by Crash. Now who was that?

* * *

Olba!? Seanelius Winner was both horrified and pleasantly surprised at the same time. Now that was a definte plus. From what he just heard, he could assume that Shagia Frost was dead and his younger brother, Olba Frost, came to seek vengence. Ever the impulsive one, this Olba. Since the GX was not going anywhere for the time being, he might as well entertain the new guest.

Seanelius's Airmaster took off into the air and headed straight for Olba, who had transformed back into the gundam mode and was firing its beam shotguns. The beams lanced the skies, but Seanelius managed to avoid every one of them and yet still get closer to Olba. Astounded, the gundam Airmaster Burst thrusted backwards because Seanelius was actually coming right at his face!

Even at point blank range, the former ace pilot could not damage Seanelius at all, as the plane went into a spin and became a blur. Every shot Olba fired went through without hitting him. As the nosetip of the Seanelius's plane slammed into the gundam, the impact jolted the guns off the Airmaster Burst's hands, and nearly knocked Olba unconscious. Both gundams fell into the ground with such a force that, the Airmaster Burst's welded leg fell apart when it landed upright, thus losing balance and falling backwards. Turning back into the gundam mode, Seanelius Winner crushed the Airmaster Burst's head with one hand and placed the barrel of his beam rifle in front of the cockpit.

Then fired.

Smoking from the large gaping hole in its torso, the Airmaster Burst laid on the ground, arms still in the upright position from holding on to Seanelius's gundam.

The GX's pilot, a pale-faced little kid named Crash Tricre, finally asked," Are you going to kill me?"

"...Maybe."