I wrote this to cheer me up when I had a terrible case of the winter blues last year, and I decided to get it out and finish it now in celebration of GW's 10 years in the USA.
Gundam Wing doesn't belong to me, sadly. This is for entertainment purposes only, and no infringement is intended.
1. Winner Tower
Contrary to pop culture, stars do not streak by when one travels through space. Not on short hops between colonies, at least, unless one made a sharp turn. Otherwise, the stars remained surprisingly stationary outside the windows of the rickety public shuttle that trundled between the moon and a colony in the L4 cluster.
Rickety was generous; the old shuttle creaked and groaned like its very structure was slowly tearing apart; from time to time there was the telltale hiss of escaping oxygen. The passengers were all decidedly nervous, clinging to each other in the flickering lights.
All but one. Near the back of the cabin Duo Maxwell slouched in his seat, asleep as soundly as if he was in a luxury liner.
He was a young man all of twenty, his boyish features finally giving way to a promising adulthood. His thin but sturdy frame was dressed in black leather touched with red and white, including heavy black boots and fingerless gloves. His sleeves were rolled nearly to his elbows; his rich brown hair was plaited in a shockingly long braid which was at the moment flopped over his shoulder. It was a startling enough feature to make people look twice when they saw him; but there was something about his posture and attitude which made him seem natural, in place right where he was, as if he had always been slouched in the shuttle seat and always would be.
It was a technique few mastered. The art of hiding in plain sight.
Despite his posture, the flight attendant still hovered over him a few long moments, trying to figure out the best way to wake him. There was something that instinctively told her that this was not a person you startled awake. "Um… um, Sir?"
He cracked an eye; a deep dark violet which took her in a moment before he blinked and straightened. "Yeah?"
"We're almost at our destination. Could you put your seat up please?"
"No problem. Wow. I musta been tired, huh?" He flashed her a smile, which she returned instantly before turning away. He straightened the seat and flipped his braid over his shoulder before peering out at one of the larger colonies of the L4 cluster. He sighed resignedly at it, fogging the window a moment. He had to be nuts.
The shuttle practically fell into its bay; there was a stampede for the doors which Duo waited out before getting up, throwing his bag over his shoulder as he headed out.
"We apologize for any inconvenience," the flight attendant was saying a bit hopelessly.
"No problem. Better than some rides I've been on," he told her cheerily as he headed towards the checkpoints.
The card he showed got him waved through instantly and he followed the signs towards the parking garage. People hurried past him in both directions, all busy, all with somewhere they wanted to go. Businessmen with eyepieces flashing the latest news across their corneas, families with children who skipped and hopped; a little girl dropped her teddy bear and Duo stooped to snatch it up and return it to her with a quick smile, hardly slowing his pace. People moving freely through space, between Earth and the colonies, peacefully and unencumbered.
He liked to think he had a hand in bringing it all about.
He reached the moving sidewalk and leaned on the rail, pulling out his smartphone and flipping through headlines briefly before checking his messages. "Blah, blah, blah," he muttered.
In the parking garage elevator he slid his card and tapped in the code, and it brought him down to the "VIP" level, where he slid his card again to get through one gate, and then through another where several vehicles stood stoically waiting.
There was just no question. He keyed a code to pull out the keys to the motorcycle that stood gleaming on one side. "What are you, a Ducati?" he asked it as he stowed his bag and revved the engine, spinning it around his foot towards the gate, where he flashed his card a final time to the waiting guard, who flashed him a thumbs up in return as he roared away.
This particular colony was one of the richest in the cluster, and gave the financial districts in L1 a run for their money for sheer opulence. Duo wove through wide streets filled with high-end luxury electric cars, past sparkling store fronts and the reflective windows of the tall office buildings. The people on the street were all fashionable and well dressed.
Duo didn't believe it for an instant. He had no doubt that for every fashionable pair of shoes and perfect hairstyle, there was someone who could barely afford the necessities of life not that far away. He turned one corner, than another, until he saw the building he was aiming for, rising above all the others, sparkling white in the filtered sunlight.
He was met by two men wearing blue and green jackets and carrying very large guns when he turned into the parking garage. "Take elevator two to the twenty-fifth floor," the one man told him when he showed his card.
"Thank you, Sir!" Duo called as he pulled away.
He gave the motorbike an affectionate pat and headed towards elevator two, which was carpeted and actually had a soft bench seat in the back, which he flopped down on after punching in his code yet again. Damned security. This was getting annoying! Soft music tinkled around him. Ye gods.
The doors opened to a carpeted hallway that led to a large foyer with a splashing fountain under a bright skylight. Several trees swayed in an artificial breeze. The floor was marble, columns flanked each of the four hallways that branched off from the foyer. There was a information station in one corner, a woman sat answering phones, she put a finger up as he came and leaned on what looked like an insanely expensive wood desk. After a moment of making some sort of appointment she looked up at him. "Yes, Sir?"
"Duo Maxwell," he said, unable to keep from glancing around. "I'm expected, I think."
She held out her hand a bit impatiently; he forced his eyes to keep from rolling as he handed her his id card. She handed it back to him after a moment of scrutiny. "You are," she said. "Right down this hallway, it's conference room B."
He thanked her with the customary smile; she just barely returned it before answering yet another phone.
He followed her directions to enter what looked to him more like a ballroom than a conference room, with a long table set up in the center. People were milling around, most of them in the green and blue jackets.
"Duo!" Quatre Raberba Winner was at his shoulder in an instant, a tall, handsome blond man dressed in an impeccable dark blue suit. "Oh, I am so glad you could make it."
"Quatre," Duo cried, yanking his old comrade-in-arms closer, not worrying with whether he was rumpling the expensive fabric. "What the hell is this?"
"What's what?" he asked, blinking, honestly not understanding. "What's wrong?"
"This…the fountain in the foyer and the marble columns and the couch in the elevator?"
"It's what's expected of an executive," Quatre told him, gently detaching himself. "You're a bit dusty. Did you take the motorcycle?"
"I did. But don't change the subject. Expected? Dude, last time I invited you to my place we had grinders at Sal's and went bowling."
Quatre grinned. "And I had a fantastic time. How is Sal?"
"Fine. He's fine," groaned Duo.
"I have to play the part, Duo. I have to do what's expected of me."
"Yeah, and next time just send someone to pick me up."
"You didn't like the Ducati?"
"It isn't that. It's that I had to show my i.d. about fifty times between the spaceport and here."
"Surely not fifty," said Quatre, taking his arm and drawing him towards the conference table. "I think you know almost everyone here?"
"Yeah," he sighed. Preventers, all of them.
Lady Une stood from her place at the head of the table and leaned to extend her hand. "I am very pleased you accepted our invitation, Mister Maxwell."
Duo shook it briefly and sat down where Quatre gestured. "Well, I just couldn't say no to my old buddy," he replied with a smile he knew was tight. "But you know how I feel about all this Preventer stuff." The organization was growing at what he thought was an alarming rate. The Sweeper Group tried to work with them all they could but sometimes there was friction between the somewhat independent-minded Sweepers and the ever vigilant Preventers.
"Not all of us do, Maxwell," said a sharp voice right behind him. "Please enlighten us with your insight."
Duo couldn't help but smile despite himself. "I think you're getting too big for your britches. Hey, Wufei."
Chang Wufei circled the table behind Une so he could seat himself across from Duo and Quatre. "You really think that?"
"Hey, I'm just a little working guy in a big solar system," said Duo with a wave of his hand. "I calls 'em like I sees 'em. But don't get me wrong, I see the need. I just also see the need to be cautious, that's all."
Arms encircled him from behind. "He has a point. Hi, Duo."
"Hi, Sally." He petted her arm and threw Wufei a comical look before she released him. Wufei pointedly ignored them both.
"Now that we are all here, if we can all be seated," Une was saying. "We have a situation developing that can no longer be ignored." She flipped folders towards the various Preventers, including one for Duo, who threw a questioning look at Quatre.
"Let's cut right to it. There are rumors of a super weapon that has been secreted out of one of the factory satellites in the L1 cluster. The intelligence we've gathered is stating that there will be a sell off, possibly at L2-V18011."
"My people haven't heard anything about any arms deal in L2," said Duo, flipping through the papers. "And why in New Vegas?"
"Why not? It's a gambling and resort colony. People coming and going all the time. We are certain other deals have gone down there."
"Yeah, but drugs, usually," Duo admitted, pulling out his smartphone.
"Please," Une said quickly, reaching for him. "This is highly sensitive information."
"I want to know if my people know anything," he said, frozen in an attitude of turning it on. "I can do that without spilling anything."
"No, you can't. We believe this is an insider job."
Duo set his teeth. "Are you accusing the Sweeper Group of arms dealing?"
"No," said Quatre quickly. "No, but we do feel there are people possibly inside the Preventers and other organizations, including my own, who cannot be trusted."
"All my comrades can be trusted," Duo said lowly, meeting Une's unflinching gaze.
"We don't want anyone outside this room to know we suspect anything at this time. That is why this meeting is so small."
Duo laid his phone on the table. "I think that you Preventers are starting to see enemies in every shadow."
"It's better to be cautious in this case."
"What sort of super weapon?" he asked after a moment.
"We don't know. We just know that it's something developed for the war."
"Could it be a gundam?" Quatre asked.
"No. We believe it is being transported, and it is not a plan or model."
Wufei drummed his fingers thoughtfully on the table. "It could be a dirty bomb. Nuclear."
"Or biological," Quatre added.
"Or it could be a killer monkey," said Duo. "If we don't have the data there's no use speculating."
Sally grinned but Une's glare was positively withering. "We have to be prepared for anything."
"And therefore will be prepared for nothing," said Duo.
"Maxwell--"
"No, he's right," said Wufei. "There's no use pretending we're not going into this blind."
"Hopefully we won't be blind before the sale goes down."
"And when is that?" Duo aked.
"Three days, by all reports."
Duo groaned. "Why didn't you just tell me after the fact? It's going to take at least a week to move the Sweepers into--"
"Did you not hear me?" Une snarled. "We're not using the Sweeper Group. Or the main branch of the Preventers."
"So who are you using?" Duo asked. When there was no instant answer, he looked at Wufei, and then Quatre, then shook his head. "No. No, no no. We are not soldiers any more."
"Speak for yourself," said Wufei.
"You aren't! We aren't. Une, don't tell me you want the Gundam pilots."
"You're the best at what you do, Duo," said Sally gently.
Duo scowled. They had done this three times previously in the five years since Duo had hit the button and watched his partner in crime blow to pieces. Three crises where "only the gundam pilots" could pull their asses out of the fire. The first one was fun, the second disastrous. The third time Duo had told them where they could put their precious mission, and refused to answer his phone for a month.
That's why Quatre was holding it here in at his headquarters. So Duo wouldn't realize what it was about until it was far too late. Those jerks. He had half a mind to get up and storm out, but a part of him wondered if they would let him go without a hassle and he wasn't ready for that yet.
"We have to help, Duo," said Quatre gently.
"Agents are meeting with Trowa Barton as we speak," said Sally.
It hung in the air. Oh, did Duo have to ask it? Fine, fine. He leaned back and crossed his arms. "My terms haven't changed," he said. "You refused to meet them last time, and I hear you just barely made it out alive. That's a real shame. A possible dirty bomb or biologic, huh? That's pretty grim, if it falls into the wrong hands. I bet these guys aren't the fooling around sort. Probably one of the big organized crime factions backed by ousted Romafellers." He looked at his nails. "I work with four men. Not two. Not three. Four."
Une groaned. Some of the Preventers glanced at one another. Wufei actually smiled. Quatre was still.
"Maxwell," Une began slowly. "You know that it is an extremely difficult request."
"Really? Where do you have him locked up now?"
"Nowhere! He isn't locked up!"
Duo leaned forward. "You want me to help you out? Then Heero Yuy helps too. Spring him, and send him to us."
"There's no where to spring him from! He's been free for over eighteen months."
"The incident on L3-X16455 was not his fault."
"If anyone's it was mine," Wufei admitted. "I had the responsibility to call for no weapons fire."
"You couldn't know the gas was still on in an abandoned warehouse," Quatre assured him.
"Hey, we got the baddies, didn't we?" Duo asked. "Those teeth we found identified them."
Sally turned her face into her hand. Wufei rubbed his temples and Quatre sighed. Duo held back the smirk. The explosion had taken out several blocks and knocked a hole right in the structural surface of the colony, damage that would have imploded an older, weaker structure. He remembered lying in the rubble, ears ringing painfully, a piece of his tibia sticking out through his leg, and then through the smoke seeing a figure slowly limping towards him -- from within the blast zone -- grim triumph on his face.
Duo had no idea what that man was made of but it was not human flesh and bone.
But there was a huge backlash and someone had to take the fall for the operation gone bad, and to protect the Preventers proper that backlash fell on the one who had actually fired into the gas-filled warehouse (why were they using gas on a colony with a residential section anyway?). There were inquiries and hearings and the talk of other, smaller, incidents with former OZ soldiers hassling a former gundam pilot and getting their faces smashed in for their trouble (won't do that again will they?) and questions about whether someone of his nature and background should even be allowed to walk free, and what to do with him if he wasn't.
Duo had only gone to that place once. Pretentious bastards with their green gardens with the high walls and smiling orderlies with their carts of pills and frilly curtains over the barred windows and French doors with the heavy locks. It had made him sick and angry and Heero Yuy's calm acceptance made him even angrier; he had practically screamed at him in the middle of the gardens, calling him all sorts of names for not fighting harder for his own freedom. Heero had merely watched him with something close to amusement in his dark eyes, then told him quietly that he didn't have to come, if he didn't like it, that he would let him know when he was out.
Duo couldn't remember getting that message.
"Are you sure he's out?" he asked. "I hadn't heard."
"Neither had I," said Quatre, looking at Wufei.
"He wanted to go off the grid a while," Wufei replied. "I have a contact e-mail."
Duo took a deep breath to release any resentment those words caused. He understood about slipping off and not wanting to be found. He had done it himself before. Heero probably just realized that Duo may have tracked him down and come to see him (which he could and would have) the instant he got word he was free. Heero would have shown up when he was good and ready, Duo had no doubt.
There was a long silence. Une looked at Wufei. "Can you control him?"
"No," said Wufei. "But he's a reasonable man. He will listen to commands and obey accordingly. Personally, I feel that's more than can be said for Maxwell here."
Duo did let himself roll his eyes then.
"I think he would be a very welcome addition to the team," said Quatre. "Besides, if this weapon came from L1, he might know something about it."
"He was just a tool to J," said Duo. "He wouldn't have confided in him."
"He still may have heard or seen something."
Une looked at Sally, who shrugged. "You know how I feel about him."
"Look, if it goes bad you can throw me in the loony bin next time," Duo said with a wave of his hand.
"It was not a--" Une stopped and took a breath. "Fine. I'll hold you to that, Mister Maxwell. Now, as for your fee." Duo straightened as Une slid a piece of paper towards him. "As an independent contractor."
He unfolded the paper and squinted. He wasn't seeing it right. Those were way too many numbers. "You're kidding."
"And this is before the cost of the mission. We'll give you access to an expense account."
"That's…Wow, you really want me for this, huh?"
"We do," said Quatre.
Duo nodded. It was too much money. "Split this between me and Heero Yuy," he said. "You can call him my sub-contract."
"You sure, Duo?"
"Yes. So what next?"
"So," said Wufei. "We meet on New Vegas in thirty-six hours."
"I'll have info for you by then," said Duo. "And I'll be careful," he added as Une opened her mouth. "I'll only use my top, most trusted guys. But I'm telling you now Howard's gotta know the score."
"What about his niece?" Une asked with distaste.
Duo shrugged. The Sweeper Group's leader had suffered a stroke and though his mind was as sharp as ever, he was really still leader in name only. Duo and Howard's "niece" (he had no idea what their actual relationship was) pretty much ran the show, Duo doing most of the inside work and Howard's niece doing the high-profile stuff.
"She might have to be in on it. I know she's a bitch but she's the most trustworthy bitch I know. Who else knows?"
"The Vice Minister has been informed, as has the president."
Duo nodded, and looked back at the piece of paper. Half of that could buy him a nice little island somewhere warm. Or at least a nice house on an island. "Okay," he said. "You got yourself a gundam pilot."
