The Last Beat

~Rest Amoung the Sand Dunes~







"My name is Nefertari Wakara. Welcome to my safe house."



Nefertari's eyes swept over the five of them. She seemed to be considering something.



"I'm sure you realize now that you are all in over your heads," she said simply. Nefertari turned and began to climb back up her gundam.



She turned back when she had reached the cockpit. Her movements were fluid and graceful, like water that defied gravity. "Gather your things and follow me."



***





They were surprised to find that the bunker opened up to a series of rooms and chambers.



This facility must have been here for a long time, Quatre mused.



The five former gundam pilots found themselves in a room with an incredibly high ceiling. Couches and chairs were positioned around the room and throw pillows and colorful rugs were tossed in no particular order all over the place. In a far corner, there was, what looked like, a kitchen, complete with a microwave, refrigerator, and bar.



Duo, being Duo, made a beeline for the fridge. "Man, I'm famished!" His face fell when he picked up the only object that took residence in the fridge.



"Ketchup! That's it! What the hell, lady! You've got about forty bottles of liquor in this poor excuse for a kitchen and one friggin' bottle of ketchup!"



Nefertari walked quietly over to a cupboard and pulled out a pile of foodstuffs. She handed one to Duo. "It is my opinion that ketchup makes everything taste better," she murmured.



"Wha?"



"Be grateful, Duo," Quatre admonished, accepting a packet of foodstuffs from Nefertari.



"If you’re hungry enough, you'll eat anything," Trowa agreed, accepting one as well.



Nefertari walked over to a chair, sat down, lit a cigarette, and watched the five men eat their meal.



"Are you not hungry?" Duo asked around a mouthful of ketchup and foodstuffs.



"No."



Heero watched the smoke from her cigarette curl around her face. Who are you?



Nefertari returned his gaze, sensing his eyes on her. They stared at each other so long they lost track of time.



"Hey, stop it you two! You're freakin' me out." Duo had just thrown away his foodstuffs packet and returned the ketchup to the fridge.



Heero ignored him. "What do you know?" he finally asked.



Nefertari smiled a little. "Considerably more than you, or I wouldn't have had to save your butts."



"That did not answer my question."



Nefertari was silent. She put out her cigarette and pulled her legs out from under. As she stood up, she pointed down a random hallway.



"There are many rooms down that hall. It doesn't matter which one you choose, they're all the same. You all should rest."



"Where are you going?" Duo asked.



"The energy my gundam put out to destroy those mobile suits fried most of the circuits. My gundam is pretty much useless after I use the Inverted Detonation Sequence. I have to fix my suit," she said simply.



"The what?!" Duo was beginning to get irritated. "You know, if you won't tell us everything you know you could at least tell us why you saved us back there. I'm getting really sick and tired of the silent treatment!"



"I didn't think it was your time to die," she stated. "And if you are so tired, why don't you go lay down?"



Duo was angry now. "I decide when I die, not you, not anyone!"



Quatre and Trowa glanced at each other over this exchange. Wufei rolled his eyes.



"Oh, yes. I remember. The God of Death. That's what you like to call yourself, isn't it?" Nefertari answered, sarcastically. "I don't have time for this. I have work to do. Besides, this will give you all ample time to discuss what's going on, yes? And I do believe that you have some information you want to get back to the Preventers."



Nefertari turned on her heel and strode back in the direction that they had came.



Duo clutched his hair. "What the hell is going on here?!"



"I dunno, Duo," Quatre said gently. "But, you must calm down."



"Don't fucking tell me to calm down," Duo said in deadly quiet voice. "My home is blown to pieces, my best friend is dead, I was just attacked with *mobile suits* outside a colony, and suddenly, psycho woman shows up with a gundam that looks a hell of a lot like each of our gundams! This is as calm as I am gonna fucking get until I get some fucking answers!"



"We're all in the same boat, Duo," Trowa said. "Now, she said something about you having information?"



"Yeah, we have some info about CR and ER and something about a possible White Fang uprising," Duo answered.



"Wait a minute," Wufei said suddenly. "Clarify something for me. Trowa, what were you and Quatre doing in space?"



Quatre grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, about that. Noin sent us to rescue you."



"What?"



"She and Sally had a feeling," Quatre shrugged. "Female intuition, what can I say?"



A completely belligerent expression strangled Wufei's features. He blinked and shook his head. "Women. I swear..."



Duo started laughing and Trowa smiled. Even the corners of Heero's mouth twitched upward.



Wufei looked at Duo, who was wiping tears from his eyes. "What's on that disk, Duo?"



"I'll show you." Duo reached into his pocket and pulled out two tiny objects. One was the disk, the other was a mini projector--the same one, in fact, that Trowa had given to him six years ago. He slid the disk into the projector and raised it so that the images projected onto the far wall.





Colonial Rebellion Association



1st in Command: Commander Fai Chrissen

2nd in Command: Lt. Breiton

Mobile Suit Overseer: Steckel Fawn

Manned Super-intendant: Philip Tressen



*Click*.



Earthatorial Rebellion Association





1st in Command: Commander Han "Wolfang" Deans

2nd in Command: Lt. Temple

Mobile Suit Overseer: Fere Nektar

Manned Super-intendant: Tommy Becket



*Click*.



White Fang



Construction Super-intendant: General Phainen

General Mobile Suite and Doll Overseer: Commander Sean Hermann

Manned Super-intendant: Laryn



*Click*.







White Fang objective: unknown

Orion status: unknown

Operation 8: #8p0 status: Pending

WP status: Pending





"Wait," Heero demanded.



"Wait, what?" Duo asked as he pocketed the projector. "That's all there is."



"No...WP. I've heard of it before..." Heero pressed his fingers to his temple, trying to remember. It wasn't like him to forget.



"Wait! Wolfgang!" Heero looked around but was greeted with four uncomprehending faces.



"Commander Han "Wolfgang" Deans, 1st in Command of the Earthatorial Rebellion Association," Heero explained impatiently.



Wufei shook his head, still not understanding.



Heero narrowed his eyes and tried to organize his thoughts into something they would understand. "On Earth I heard some ex-soldiers talking about ER. They said something about a 'Wolfgang Prophecy'. You see? WP--Wolfang Prophecy. They said it was safely hidden. I think it’s a data chip...and I'm pretty sure its important."



Heero looked at Wufei. "That's why I came back."



Duo quirked a brow. "Ohhh okay, Heero." Man, this guy is weird. "If you say so."



Heero turned to glare at Duo. He hated it when Duo didn't take him seriously. "It's important."



"Yes, it is."



They whirled around to see Nefertari smiling approvingly at Heero. "I was looking for it myself."



"I thought you had a gundam to fix," Duo said coldly.



"I do," Nefertari walked passed them. "I forgot my smokes."



She picked up her pack of cigarettes and walked back out the room.



Heero's eyes followed her. That girl knows where it is. That's why she was in space.



"What are we gonna do about her?" Trowa's quiet voice interrupted his thoughts.



Duo grinned cheekily. "We could kill her, steal her gundam, and turn this place into the best club in the Universe!"



Quatre smiled and shook his head. "Is she an ally?"



Wufei scratched his neck, trying to be nonchalant. "She did save our lives."



Heero glanced at his ebony-haired comrade. Wufei had a soft-spot for strong women. "I don't think we can call her an ally. We can safely assume that she is not a part of CR or ER. She is looking for the WP and she destroyed all those mobile suits. However, I have never seen her before, and she has a gundam. Which leads me to think she may be a part of something bigger--something we've never heard of...something considerably older than us. I think we can safely consider her an asset, but nothing more."



"I agree," Trowa said. "I say we utilize the hospitality Ms. Wakara is offering us as long as it lasts and use this time to straighten out everything...figure out our next move. Then we leave."



Wufei nodded. "Agreed."



Trowa looked at Quatre. He understood that it was not in his nature to mistrust people--or use people, for that matter.



Quatre smiled faintly at Trowa then looked back at his hands. He couldn't help but feel at home in this place under the sands. It was so much like the Maguanoc's realm. Quatre wondered fleetingly if they knew about Nefertari Wakara.



"Duo?" The question came from Heero. They had to be of an accord about this.



Duo shrugged. "I guess." He stalked over to a couch and plopped down on it.



"I still think we should kill her, though."



***







Nefertari looked up as Quatre entered the bunker. She had spent the last three hours re-wiring the circuits in her gundam and trying to decide if she should tell Heero where the WP was.



Quatre smiled warmly at her. Nefertari didn't smile but her cobalt blue eyes softened a great deal. Quatre wore a pair of neat khakis and white shirt, the sleeves rolled up, and, God help him, all the buttons in their respective places. His blonde hair was still slightly askew, but the thickness of it allowed Quatre's head some semblance of order, the pale locks falling in the general area that they are supposed to. The blonde Arab had always incited much interest of the global news community. That fact Mr. Winner was filthy rich didn't help much either. Nefertari had never seen so many Time, People, and GQ magazines dedicated to one man. It seemed at least one magazine was centered around the how-to's and the going-about's of the wealthiest and most eligible bachelor of this generation every month. Despite it all, however, the President of the Winner Foundation struck Nefertari as a very grounded individual.



Quatre held up Duo's disk. "I have to send this to the Preventers. I wanted to use the shuttle's computer because I know it’s a secure line."



Nefertari nodded. "Knock yourself out." She went back to working on her gundam.



After a few minutes, she looked up again as Quatre began walking towards her--straight into the gamma ray force field she had surrounding her gundam. Nobody could pilot the gundam but her because the gundam was programmed to answer only to her genetic encryption. Still, she wasn't going to take a chance on the pilots stripping her gundam for parts. These gundam pilots had a history.



"Ow!" Quatre rubbed his forehead where it had smacked into the invisible shield.



This time Nefertari did smile. The utterly confused look on his face was quite possibly the cutest thing she'd ever seen. With a very amused expression, Nefertari reached over and turned off the force field. She beckoned him closer.



"Pretty high tech," Quatre commented, as he came to stand beside her.



Nefertari smiled again and resumed her task.



"May I touch him?"



Nefertari glanced at him once more, interested. "You may."



Quatre reached out and ran a hand over the cool gundanium. "Beautiful."



"Thank you." Nefertari was staring at him inquisitively.



Quatre took a deep breath. "I miss Sandrock," he explained.



"Ahh."



"What's his name?" Quatre was choosing his questions as carefully as he could. He didn't want her to close up on him.



Nefertari looked up at her gundam. "Pharaoh."



Quatre nodded. "It suits him."



Quatre looked down to where Nefertari was seated. She had changed from her space suit into her every day clothes. Nefertari wore a black skin-tight turtleneck that had long sleeves but only came down just past the bottom tip of her ribcage. Her long legs were covered with thigh-high black leather boots and around her waist was a honey-colored skirt with two long slits up the sides. A green sash held the skirt in place and dark brown, fingerless, gloves covered her hands.



"Are you Egyptian?" Quatre asked. The question had been bugging him, being an Arab himself.



Nefertari leaned back to get a better look of the blonde man who was ravishing her with questions. "Partly."



She stared at him, almost daring him to ask him what the other part was.



Quatre gave in. "What else are you?"



"Japanese."



"That's an odd combination."



Nefertari smiled again. "Yes, it is."



Quatre and Nefertari stared at each other.



"Quatre," Nefertari said, finally. "I have a lot of work to do."



"I understand." Quatre turned to walk away. "I'm sorry to bother you."



"It was no bother."



Halfway to the door, Quatre stopped and turned back to the pilot of the Pharaoh gundam. "We're all settled in."



Nefertari, who had just reactivated the shield, turned to look at the former pilot of the gundam Sandrock.



"That's good," she said, patiently.



"Ms. Wakara?"



"Nefertari, please. There's no need to stand on ceremony here, Quatre."



"Fine. Nefertari...thank you for your hospitality."



"You're welcome." She turned back to her gundam.



It wasn't until she heard the door shut that Nefertari was able to concentrate on what she was doing.



That man is too kind for his own good, Nefertari thought.



Kindness wasn't a thing she was used to.



***





Early the next morning, Duo found himself wandering the halls of Nefertari's safe house until he was quite certain he was lost. He couldn't sleep, no matter how hard he tried. Duo kept thinking about L2 and that damn Wakara woman. Nefertari definitely got under his skin. Duo didn't trust her, but there was something else. He could swear that she reminded him of someone but he just couldn't put a finger on whom.



Suddenly, a warm breeze caught at his hair. Duo followed the breeze straight into the bunker where he saw that the hanger was wide open. He walked outside finding his four comrades staring at something in the distance. He looked, and there was Nefertari Wakara, her black silhouette hauntingly beautiful against the rising sun.



She was apparently engaged in some kind of morning exercise with a pair of shining and curved swords.



Duo walked over to Heero. "Did you find out anything about her gundam?" Duo asked discreetly.



Heero was watching Nefertari intently with his arms crossed.



"I couldn't get near it," Heero answered without looking away from Nefertari. "She's got some kind of energy shield surrounding it. I couldn't even figure out where its activator was."



"This chick's no joke, is she?" Duo fixed his gaze on Nefertari as she continued her exercises.



"No, she's not."



Duo crossed his arms. "I sure the hell hope she's on our side."



"Hn."



Quatre was mesmerized. He recognized this. It was no exercise, it was a dance. When he was very young, Quatre's father had taken him to Earth where they had visited a place called Yemen. Here, the women wore long, dark robes called baltas and cowls and shar-shaf or lithma veils to cover their faces. The men wore long white shentis, futa-jackets, and checkered kuffiyahs. This place was still rich with the Islamic heritage of his forefathers. They had arrived in Yemen in the small hours of the morning and had stayed awake to perform the ziryat at dawn, so as not to be considered kufr, before resting. Later that day, his father had taken Quatre to a festival where acrobats danced with swords and merrymakers spat flames. The culture had struggled to stay alight with the ebb and flow of time, suffering the mingling of a few other cultures, like many more spices in a dish than is needed, but is still unusually savory. His father had told him how the Islamic culture has dwindled and become less severe as thousands of years pass since the Prophet walked the Earth. His father told him how he respected Yemen for holding tight to what is so very important to them. Yet, his father had said, he did not miss the days where wars were fought because of the differences between Christianity, Islam, and Hebrew Law. He said if the gods wanted to do battle for sovereignty, let them do it in Heaven. Humans have enough to worry about without throwing their deities into the mix. The next day they had embarked on the pilgrimage to Medina and Mecca.



Quatre had always acknowledged his Islamic heritage, but that is all it was. An acknowledgement. Gods do their own battle now. In these days, humans fight for their own reasons. It is very possible that they always have and simply never wanted to face their own selfishness. There are no gods here.



But he knew this dance.



Before Trowa could stop him, he walked up the sand dune to stand before Nefertari.



Let me dance with you, oh sister of the sands, Quatre thought.



Catching sight of him, Nefertari tossed one of the swords to Quatre, spun her heel, and stopped so that she was squarely facing Quatre. Quatre caught the blade in one expert hand and immediately moved his sword arm in a low sweeping bow. Nefertari answered the bow with a graceful one of her own. She lifted her other hand, two fingers outward.



Quatre understood. Two fingers to the sun, that's when the dance would begin. It was very close now. So close.



Slowly, without moving her fingers from her position in the sky, Nefertari stood and placed one foot in front of her. Quatre followed suit.



That was when the sun moved into position.



The pair pivoted and tossed their swords into the air.



The dance had begun.



As they danced with their swords and with each other, spinning, flipping, the occasional clang of metal when the blades made contact, dipping, and looking for all the world like to two desert sprites, Trowa watched. He was finding it hard to breathe.



Trowa knew this. He had done the same thing when he'd first met Quatre.



He remembered it like it was yesterday. Trowa had wanted so badly to talk to Quatre, but he could not find the words that were worthy of the blonde Arabian. It wasn't until he'd heard Quatre playing on his violin that he'd known how to cross the threshold of communication. He remembered how shaky his hands were when he had picked up the flute. How constricted his chest felt as he put the instrument to his lips. Then, just like that, all his fears were forgotten and they were playing music. He and his Quatre were making the most beautiful music he'd ever heard.



Now, it was happening again. Only, Trowa wasn't a part of it.



Did I show you this, he thought. Or, has it always been your talent to get people to open up to you, Quatre?



The worst part was, as they danced the most pulchritudinous dance he'd ever seen, Trowa's worst fear was that he was losing Quatre to this girl.



He looks so peaceful, Trowa thought. Nothing compared to the mess he'd encountered in the circus only a few days ago. I couldn't fix you, or give you the comfort you needed. So, now that this girl is healing you with her dance, will you shower your smiles on her only? Will you forget me? These thoughts troubled and irritated Trowa. Trowa had always clung to the part of him that could seem to disappear even though he was in a room full of people. His detached personality is what made his con artistry something to be reckoned with. Trowa was always the first choice to infiltrate an enemy camp or an opposing army. He was able to blend in pretty much everywhere and anywhere he wanted to. As far back as he could remember, this had been his most significant characteristic. No one had even bothered to give him a name until he was given the orders for Operation Meteor. Not even the mercenary group he was raised in. When he took the name Trowa Barton, he had felt exposed. He had startled himself when he'd realized, when the war was over, he didn't want to discard this name as badly as he had thought he did. He had found himself with a dwindled desire to blend back in. So Trowa had gone back to the circus, with Catherine Bloom and all the other people who knew him as Trowa Barton...and didn't realize that that was not his real name. Trowa was constantly battling that terrible thought. He wasn't Trowa Barton. He was the man who stole Trowa Barton's name.



Quatre had once told him the he was Trowa Barton as he should have been. Duo had once told him that Trowa Barton was as good a name as any. Did it matter what he was called? Or did it just matter to him?



Quatre had surprised him, the first time they had met, when Quatre had not bothered to ask him his name until Trowa was leaving...as if his name didn't really matter at all. As if Trowa the person was more important than Trowa the name. Perhaps this was the reason he felt so terrified as he watched the Arab and the Egyptian dance atop the sand dune. And it irritated the hell out of him.



Then, after what seemed like an eternity, the dance ended. The four spectators took it like a blow. It was if they were under a spell and a wicked witch cruelly lifted it, leaving them feeling barren and wanting more.



Nefertari accepted her sword as Quatre offered it to her. Quatre murmured something to her and kissed her cheek. Then Quatre ran down the dune, beaming at Trowa the whole way.



Nefertari remained where she was with a look of shock on her face, touching her cheek like she'd been slapped.



***





I feel alive again, thank you...



I feel alive again...



Alive...



Nefertari couldn't get the words that Quatre had spoken to her out of her head. I am a killer, she thought. I am not supposed to make people feel alive.



She was lounging on a couch and smoking a cigarette, contemplating the morning's events over a glass of hard liquor.



Duo had found a radio and was blaring music in the other room where she had left the others so she could organize her thoughts.



God, that music is so fucking annoying...





//...the brothers come round...

...I get out of my dirty bed...//





Nefertari drained her liquor and put the glass down. She could hear the other pilots start laughing as Duo started imitating the song and start singing.





//...I shake my pretty little head...

...tap my pretty little feet...

...it’s a bunch of insomniacs...

...down with the thunder...

...dancing like a yoo-yoo wooot!...//





Oh, God, she thought. He would know a song this idiotic, wouldn't he?





//...don't got no problems...

...ain't got no suities...

...ain't got no clothes to worry about...

...ain’t got no real estate, no jewelry, or bump itinerary...//





There was a loud crash and the guys exploded into laughter. Nefertari actually smiled this time, she could only imagine what he was doing in there.





//...chilly down with the fire gang...//





Nefertari put out her cigarette. She was waiting for orders. However, she knew they probably wouldn't come until she delivered the Wolfgang Prophecy. Saving the former pilots was not in her plans but she couldn't stand by and watch them get slaughtered because they walked unknowingly into a hornets nest. Now she was behind schedule because of the damage to her gundam.





//...bottle crazy...

...really lazy...

...eye rollin'...

...funky strollin'...

...ball playin'...

...hips swayin'...

...trouble makin'...

...booty shakin'...

...trippin', passin'...

...jumpin', bouncin'...

...growlin', stylin'...

...creepin', pouncin'...

...shoppin', screamin'...

...double dealin'...

...rock-n-rollin'...

...and I'm reelin'...

...with a napkin'...

...sex appealin'...

...can you dig?...

...I groove with feelin'!...//





Nefertari almost laughed aloud. This song really did have Duo written all over it.





//...so when things get you down...

...and your chin is draggin' on the ground...

...and even down looks up...

...bad luck!...//





"I know how it feels to be on the outside."



The voice had come from behind her. Nefertari turned and sought out its source. Wufei was standing in the doorway. He walked over and refilled her glass. Then he sat next to her and helped himself to a glass of his own.



"Thank you," Nefertari murmured.





//...we can show you a good time...

...and we don't charge nothing...

...just strut your nasty stuff...

...wiggle in the middle, yeah...//





"Make it stop," Nefertari implored him.



Wufei laughed. "Good luck. Once he gets started, there's really no stopping him."





//...chilly down with the fire gang!...//





They were positively howling with laughter, now, in the other room.



"Why aren't you in there with your comrades?"



Wufei snorted. "Comrades? Barely acquaintances."



"Ahhh." Nefertari tipped her glass against Wufei's and drained it. Wufei followed suit. It burned pleasantly.



"Nefertari," Wufei began, shifting to face her. "Why are we here? Why are you letting us stay here?"



Nefertari shrugged. "Why not? Wing Zero showed you that your destiny coincided with the other pilots, right? Well, maybe it didn't show you me because I never piloted the Wing. Maybe my destiny coincides with yours because I'm a gundam pilot...Maybe it doesn't, I don't know."



Wufei was shocked. "How did you know what the Zero system showed me?"



Nefertari smiled faintly. "Because I designed the Zero system," she replied.



Wufei started. "No, you didn't."



"Believe what you want, Wufei." Nefertari was irritated with herself. She shouldn't have said that.



They were silent for a moment.



"Did you really?"



Nefertari gave him a look that said of course I did, you moron.



"How long have you been around, Nefertari Wakara?" The way he asked the question said that he believed her. There was something else in his tone, though. Was it admiration?



"I was the one sent to give Meiran her orders for Operation Meteor," she said evenly, never taking her eyes from Wufei's.



Meiran...his long-deceased wife--the original pilot of Shenlong.



"It was my first mission," Nefertari added softly.



Wufei's hand began to shake. "What don't you know about me?"



Nefertari reached behind Wufei's head and untied his hair, allowing it to fall in glimmering, inky, silkiness around his face.



Nefertari's eyes widened. "How beautiful you look with your hair down," she answered.



Nefertari touched a silky strand. "The honor you must have, to fight for the memory of one you barely knew."



It was true, Wufei's marriage was an arranged one and lasted only a few weeks before Meiran died, passing Shenlong to him.



It was that moment that Duo swaggered drunkenly into the room. He did a double take at what he saw.



"What the hell are you two sitting in here in the dark for? The party's down the hall, man!"



Duo strutted in as Wufei stood up, still trembling.



Seeing the bottle of liquor on the table, Duo grinned and picked it up. "Ooo! Goldschlager! Don't mind if I do!"



Duo poured himself a glass and gulped it down.



Wufei spared one last shaky glance at Nefertari and left the room; leaving her to deal with the drunken mass of braid and cheeky grin that was Duo Maxwell.



Nefertari stood up and prepared to reprimand Duo.



However, Duo swayed on his feet and apparently chose that moment to collapse, unconscious, into Nefertari's arms.



***





Nefertari walked into the room where Heero, Trowa, and Quatre were still listening to music and dumped the drunken, unconscious Duo, unceremoniously, on the floor. She glared around the room and walked out.





//...may impair your ability to operate machinery!...//





Trowa snickered.



Quatre giggled.



And then they were both laughing so hard they were clutching their sides.



Heero remained silent, lost in his thoughts, and staring at the doorway that Nefertari had just stalked out of.