Author: Madilayn
Fandom: Battle of the Planets
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Battle of the Planets is owned by Sandy Frank. Gatchaman is the property of Tatsunko. No money is being made from the use of characters owned by Tatsunko or Sandy Frank.
Summary: Zoltar is boasting about capturing the Condor, and G-Force decides that they need to do two things: persuade Zoltar that the person he captured isn't the Condor and get Jason out of there. When she's asked to "impersonate" the Condor during the mission, a certain Swan discovers that there is often a lot of fun to be had when you don't have to be what everybody expects you to be.
Part 1
"But she looks nothing like Jason," complained Keyop looking at his sister.
Mark couldn't help it. He looked her slowly up and down. "No. Nothing like Jason."
If they'd only stop looking at her, it would help. A lot. Of course, if Mark looked at her more often like that, she'd be happier, but still. It did absolutely nothing to help her try to impersonate Jason – or more importantly, G2 – the Condor.
She looked at the others in Anderson's office. "I can do this," she said. "And the important thing is that Spectra thinks that they made a huge mistake in their identifying Jason as the Condor."
"Princess, I'll be honest here. You look nothing like a male."
She grinned, and the others found her grin through the indigo visor disconcerting. "So glad somebody noticed I'm a woman"
Tiny laughed. "Believe me, Prin, we've noticed. Some of us more than others," he said, glancing in Mark's direction.
"It won't work," he blurted out. "Princess, you look nothing like Jason – to start with you're a lot shorter than he is, you don't move like him and, well, umm…" and he trailed off.
"Mark, it's hardly like the two of you will be stopping to chat with the Spectrans. At the speed you move, they'll see the Eagle and Condor colours and that's what we want them to see."
"I'm the only one who has even a remote chance of doing this. I'll keep my wings around me – and if we keep far enough apart, then they won't be sure just how tall I am."
"What about fighting – Jase and I…"
"How long have we all trained together? I know exactly how all of you fight. Hell, I helped you and Jason work on your fighting style. If you don't believe me, let's go down to the floor now and go up against the sims."
Anderson nodded. "That would be a good idea. It would help you both. Princess, are you sure that you're up to this? That you can use Jason's weapons competently?"
She nodded. "Yes. I can even drive the G2 if I have to." The other four in the room went pale. "No. Not the car," said Anderson. "I don't think that will be necessary."
She noted the pale faces. "I'm a good driver, actually. Never had a chance not to be, not when you've got Jason teaching you."
Mark put his hand on her shoulder. "It's not that, Prin. I trust you; it's just that, well, what if something happens to the car? Jason won't take it out on you – he'll blame us. I definitely don't want to have to dodge Jason if something happens to his car."
"Better you than me," and suddenly Princess grinned wickedly. "You know, there may be something fun about this whole Condor impersonation after all."
Tiny was chuckling and Mark turned on him. "What's so funny?"
"It must be the uniform. She's starting to think like Jason already."
Mark flashed his patented "exasperated commander" look at Tiny and then turned to face Princess who was looking as demure as she ever could. It didn't deceive her Commander one little bit and he gave her the look he usually reserved for use on Jason only. The effect on Princess was the same as it was on Jason – absolutely nothing at all.
Mark sighed and accepted the inevitable "If you're determined, then let's hit the floor. Try to keep up with me."