by YamchaOtaku
Author's Note: This story is a sequel to my first Gundam story "Studying Duo." It is recommended you read that first but I tried to put in some flashbacks so this story can stand alone. This one is rated R because it has more violence, more bad language, use of drugs and more lemony freshness. It's really not all that bad, but let's just say you've been cautioned. As always, reviews are appreciated -- makes sad puppy eyes at readers.
PROLOGUE
His hands ran over her hips and he wondered if anything could feel as soft as threadbare denim. She brushed her pale blonde hair back from her face with one slender hand and she smiled at him. "You came back," she said. "I couldn't stay away," he answered. Duo pulled Linnea up against him and kissed her slowly as he slipped his hand up under her tank top and decided that her skin was definitely softer than worn-out denim. She sighed and snuggled against him. "I love you," she whispered. "But isn't there something else you're supposed to be doing right now. What about those repairs?" Linnea shoved hard against his chest with both hands and he hit the floor . . .
"DAMMIT!" Duo said, sitting up from the floor and rubbing his head. "Another dream, only a dream." He groaned and pounded on the floor with his fist in frustration.
A boom made the hangar building tremble and the familiar sound of a Gundam taking off echoed through the walls. Duo raced out the open door and watched as Gundam Wing disappeared into a brilliant blue sky studded with white clouds. That guy had somehow repaired his Gundam without parts. He had to give him credit, Heero Yuy was one incredible pilot. Almost as good a pilot as Duo was himself. He went back into the hangar to be met by shocked faces. "That guy stole parts from DeathScythe," one of the technicians informed him. "That traitor, and I complimented him!!" Duo shouted in irritation.
He inspected the damage. "Do we have any of the original plans down here," he asked. A technician handed him a sheaf of computer printouts. The damage wasn't too bad but they would have to wait for new parts. Damn Heero, he thought. Then something at the very bottom of the printout jumped off the page at him. A reference code in tiny print at the very bottom of the page: LLGMS02L2AC195. He touched the tiny print. Linnea Lang, Gundam Mobile Suit 02, Colony L2, After Colony 195. Duo stepped outside the hangar again and looked into the sky. He tried not to think of her too much but sometimes she just bubbled up inside of him and so many little things reminded him of her. What would she think of Heero, he wondered. She'd either think he was wonderful for "being creative" or want to kill him for daring to vandalize DeathScythe. If only she were here, to help fix the DeathScythe as well as for other things. He let his mind travel back to last night's dream.
CHAPTER ONE
Linnea hunched over her computer keyboard uploading upgrades, schematics and other data to some unknown location. She sighed and reached her arms over her head and stretched to get the kinks out, she peered at her wristwatch and rubbed her eyes. "Three a.m. I've got to get some sleep," she said out loud, then she laughed. Since the launching of Operation Meteor she had become an insomniac, living on coffee and naps during class on the days she actually still went to school. "I'm talking to myself and I'm slap happy," she said out loud again, her voice echoing in the nearly empty, cavernous hangar building on Colony L2. She closed out her program and as usual before shutting down the computer Linnea clicked on the DeathScythe prototype file.
Her violet eyes, ringed by dark shadows of exhaustion, studied the mobile suit schematics although she could see them perfectly in her mind and could have rebuilt the mobile suit it in its entirety without the plans if she had to. Then, finally, she clicked on the last entry in the voice notes file. Her own voice spoke to her out of the computer -- pilot gaining mastery over systems -- pilot increasing dexterity with weaponry systems -- note to self: drill pilot on emergency repair techniques and then Duo's voice faintly in the background -- let me see that headset--. Then his voice came in clearly-- testing, testing (laughter)-- note to computer: pilot adores technician -- note to self: show her how much-- systems check: cockpit hatch closing, A-okay. The sound of static. Linnea continued to stare at the screen a moment after the program ended. "Duo," she whispered to herself, closing her eyes.
Tears of self-pity started forming, she was so tired and so alone and it would feel so good to cry right now. But the tears wouldn't fall. "Arghh!" she said. "Snap out of it and quit being so sappy. It really isn't you." LLGMS02L2AC195 she typed, then signed off. She hastily clicked off the machine and rose from the chair. Shower and sleep, she thought, running a hand through her hair. You should try to get back to some type of normal life, she told herself for the thousandth time. But pouring herself into her work was the only way she knew to cope with the stress of not knowing a damned thing about what was going on with the operation on Earth.
An unfamiliar sound echoed in the hangar and suddenly a bright light shone in her face, blinding her in the darkened room. "What-who," she wondered stupidly, shocked by the suddenness of it all. "Linnea Lang?" a disembodied voice spoke. "In the name of OZ you are ordered to immediately travel to Earth and provide the information you have on Gundam mobile suit design." Before she could protest two soldiers grabbed each of her arms and started dragging her out. "Copy all files from this system immediately," the disembodied voice ordered. "NOOO," Linnea shouted, adrenaline pouring through her. She twisted one arm free and slammed her wrist against the wall, setting off a detonation button on her watch.
The hangar lit up with the explosion and two OZ soldiers attempting to start up the computer were incinerated in the blast. Linnea wrestled her other arm away from the shocked soldier who held her as the building started to blaze in the aftermath of the explosion. "Damn, I wasn't close enough to go with it," Linnea thought regretfully as she ran out into the night and smack into another group of OZ soldiers waiting outside the hangar. "Stop her or we're in deep trouble with Engineer Tsuborov. She already destroyed the computer files and took two men out," a voice shouted from behind her. One of the soldiers panicked and slammed the butt of his rifle into the side of her head and everything went dark.
***
Darkness and pain. "Did I die and go to hell," Linnea thought as her head throbbed in agony. She could feel sticky blood drying on the side of her face and tried to reach up to rub it away but she couldn't move her hands. "Sleep deprivation, slow reflexes. You let OZ capture you, you fool," she berated herself angrily. She forced her eyes open. She was on a space shuttle apparently and they had shackled her hands behind the seat. She struggled a little, but the way she was feeling she wasn't going to be busting out of any metal handcuffs anytime in the near future.
"Awake already?" a voice questioned her. "Tough little thing, aren't you? Caused us a lot of trouble blowing up those files!" the unit commander said and slapped her sharply across the face. She blinked back startled tears of pain. "We had orders to treat you carefully but you've proven to be dangerous. Did you know you killed two of my men?" Linnea glared at the commander. As if she was supposed to care. "Only two, that's a shame," she said. The commander clenched his fists, then composed himself. "Engineer Tsuborov will decide how to handle you from here. My mission is completed. Now it's time for you to take a little nap, it's a long way back to Earth." He jabbed a needle in her arm roughly and she grimaced.
My first trip into outer space and I'm going to sleep through it, she thought with regret. Linnea had spent all her life on L2 colony, her father trying to hide her technological genius from OZ and the EarthSphere Alliance. Often she had detested the necessity of subterfuge that kept her from traveling and meeting other scientists. Be careful what you wish for, she thought grimly. She stared out the window at the fathomless blackness and the myriad sparkling stars, planets and colonies. She thought how beautiful and peaceful it all was before she passed out.
CHAPTER TWO
Linnea choked as someone tried to pour water down her throat. She coughed and was surprised when she was able to reach up with her hand to cover her mouth. A bizarre man dressed in distinctive Tudor style clothing was watching her closely as a nurse wiped her head with a wet cloth. She tried to pull herself up to a sitting position, as the man started to speak. "Miss Lang," he said. "I am Chief Engineer Tsuborov of the OZ military. I can't tell you how deeply I regret the appalling treatment you received. I gave strict orders that you were to be treated as an honored guest." Linnea merely looked down at her raw, bruised wrists and decided not to speak, she really didn't want to spend another week hanging from a wall in a prison cell, she decided, not just yet anyway. "I firmly believe that you will come to realize that OZ is the future of Earth and Space and that it will be of no use for you to resist joining us. We need brilliant young people like you. I promise that if you join us you will be the shining star of universal technology. Think about it Miss Lang. Anything at all that you require will be yours. Don't tell me you haven't wondered what we've been working on. Everything will be at your fingertips. You're beautiful, young and brilliant Miss Lang. You have everything to look forward too." "All I want is peace and freedom for the colonies," she said, looking at him directly. "You're behind the times Miss Lang," Tsuborov said, slightly irritated. "Even the colonies themselves don't want that anymore. They will soon realize that cooperating with OZ is the right decision, and you will make the same realization. OZ can be very persuasive." Linnea merely shut her eyes and slid back down in the bed, curling her arms around a pillow. She felt too weak to argue or protest right now. "Get some rest," Tsuborov said in an approving voice. The girl had spirit and she would be an incalculable asset to OZ once she'd been shown the error of her previous beliefs. And he had been the one to discover her. The top men at Romefeller were pleased and anxious to meet the girl. "There'll be a reception tomorrow night here at OZ headquarters so we can show you just who we really are and how happy we are that you'll soon be a part of our organization. Try to recover quickly, I can't put this off." He waited for her answer, but she was already sleeping again.
Tsuborov stalked out of the room and ordered the execution of the team that had brought Linnea to Earth, they had certainly botched the job, treating his treasured discovery so roughly.
***
Two maids fussed over Linnea, ooohing and aaaahing over her appearance. She looked dully into the full-length mirror hardly believing that she was that girl. Her pale blonde hair was curled and styled like a Greek goddess: braided up in the back with ringlets on the side and a headband made of amethysts. The dress was also reminiscent of ancient Greece, made out of layers of transparent lavender material. The girl in the mirror was a stranger. She looked ethereal and delicate enough to blow away on a strong wind. Well, Linnea, thought, sleep deprivation and not eating right will do that to you. Not to mention being kidnapped and beaten and drugged. And now OZ wanted to throw her a welcome party. The organization was truly insane.
***
She truly looked like Athena, the goddess of wisdom, the brilliant and beautiful Miss Lang. Tsuborov had gone over some simple mobile suit schematics with her that morning and without even trying she had dazzled him by pointing out numerous flaws in the designs, and he could tell she was holding back. But soon enough she would be willing to take the project on. She would be tempted into it by her own genius. She was addicted to technology, it was like a drug to her, he could tell. And sooner or later she would have to do something about it. He pulled her around the room of Romefeller dignitaries like a prize, showing her off to everyone, before handing her over to a handsome young OZ soldier, designated as her bodyguard. Tsuborov wouldn't put it past the rebellion to try to assassinate Miss Lang in order to keep her from joining OZ. Her defection would certainly be the end of their futile attempt to stop the juggernaut.
Linnea had the same thoughts. Tonight would be the perfect chance for her allies to get her out of OZ's hands, one way or another. She was perfectly willing to die and she kept alert for anyone suspicious that might mean her way out of this nightmare of a farce. Wandering off alone would be impossible with her hand held so tightly by this idiot OZ soldier who thought he was her boyfriend or something. Well, she'd think of something, wasn't she the "brilliant and beautiful Miss Lang"?
CHAPTER THREE
"Please dance with me Miss Lang. It would be such an honor," Officer Huit said to the girl whose hand he held. He thought how lucky he was to be her bodyguard. He had heard Engineer Tsuborov brag about how important she would be to OZ. He might get a promotion if he could make her happy. Officer Huit wondered what her problem was. Everyone he knew would be thrilled to be pursued by the Romefeller Foundation, it was an honor not to be dreamed of. Well, she had probably been brainwashed by the evil rebellion, poor little thing. Huit squeezed her hand tighter as she finally agreed to dance with him. He'd show her that OZ was a wonderful organization and he started talking about his loyalty to the cause.
Linnea stood in the ballroom at the Romefeller Foundation headquarters trying desperately to ignore the inane chatter of Officer Huit. If something didn't happen soon she thought she would go crazy. Either this fool's babble would make her head explode or she would become so tempted to work on a mobile suit that she would beg Tsuburov to let her upgrade OZ's mobile dolls. She could tell he knew how she felt, that bastard. She had barely been able to contain herself when she toured the factory and saw all the obvious errors they were making in the design. The biggest mistake of course being the lack of a human pilot. Linnea believed deeply that the pilot was the most important part of the mobile suit and if she could have she would have customized one for every soldier that wanted to fight for the rebellion. But of course that was too gigantic of an undertaking even for her, she admitted.
Suddenly the air was filled with sirens and the room was filled with panic. "It's a Gundam attack," someone shouted. Huit, whose only purpose in life at that moment was to keep the young technological genius safe, snapped to alert. Linnea, however, saw only her chance to escape. She let someone in the panicking crowd push her over and when he helped her up she slipped her hand inside his coat and grabbed his ornate, gilt-encrusted pistol. In the noise and chaos, no one noticed or heard when she pulled the trigger and shot her bodyguard point blank.
Cursing the idiotic, neo-Greek dress they had made her wear she hiked the skirt up over her knees, clutched the pistol, and ran like hell toward the OZ mobile suit armory. The place was in as much of an uproar as the ballroom and no one saw the girl in the lavender dress clamber up into one of the Taurus suits in a very unladylike manner. They noticed however when the suit started up, but Linnea took care of that by blasting out half the building and a good number of the idle mobile suits. "Now, it's payback time," she whispered, wishing she had Duo's skill at the controls, but also knowing she would've made a damn good mobile suit pilot herself. Even if she didn't get out of there she'd take more than a few of the enemy with her. She quickly acclimated herself to the Taurus cockpit and took off into the heart of the battle.
***
The Gundam pilot was faced with tough odds as the majority of OZ main force swept around him from all angles. He might not make it out but at least he'd accomplish his mission of decimating a devastating percentage of the enemy arsenal. The pilot noticed a large explosion from the main arsenal building and wondered what could have happened to help him accomplish his objective without his having to go deeper into enemy territory. He returned his attention to the battle at hand and tightened his hands on the controls as he saw an enemy blast headed right for him. "Sandrock, you can withstand this. I know you can do it," he whispered, as if in encouragement, to his Gundam.
He unconsciously closed his eyes before the impact and was surprised when a full 30 seconds had passed and nothing had hit him. He blinked as he noticed a Taurus mobile suit careen past and turn a graceful spiral in the sky while blasting away at the OZ troops. Blasting away at the OZ troops? What was happening? Did this mean he had an ally or was it a trick? He spoke to the pilot of the Taurus but got no answer. Well there was no time to investigate this strange turn of events further. Between Quatre and the mysterious Taurus the OZ suits were soon smoldering masses of molten metal. As soon as Quatre decided he was definitely going to make it out of there successfully he noticed the Taurus leave the battle field. "I've got to find out who that is and why they wouldn't answer me," he muttered to himself deciding to follow his mysterious ally.
Linnea breathed hard and navigated the Taurus away from OZ headquarters. She was shaking in exhaustion, her adrenaline rush was fading fast and she didn't have a clue what to do next. She thought about the battle, it had been a great satisfaction to finally pilot a mobile suit against the enemy. She managed a weary grin, she hadn't done badly at all. She considered the Gundam she had seen. It was similar to the DeathScythe, really not a bad piece of work. She'd like to meet whoever crafted it but now was not the time to make new acquaintances. She had to find a safe place to hide out before Romefeller figured out she was among the missing. There was actually only one real option she could think of to be absolutely sure she didn't re-captured. She started looking for a self-detonator, but it didn't seem like these models had them, after all there wasn't any secret about the Tauruses. She looked below her and saw mountains. Option Two, she thought, crash and burn. Better to take rebellion secrets to the grave than to be faced with the persuasiveness of OZ. She thought briefly of Duo. He would probably never find out what had happened to her, which was just as well. She shook off the thought, now was no time for sentiment, and she rammed the controls forward, closed her eyes tightly and headed toward the ground at sickening speed.
Quatre gasped as he saw the explosion ahead of him. That suit had just taken a nosedive and crashed into the mountains. What was the pilot trying to accomplish? He landed the Sandrock and hopped out of the cockpit. Quatre scanned the area and saw nothing but the glowing remains of the Taurus mobile suit. His sky-blue eyes brightened with unshed tears, whoever it was had helped him, maybe even saved him. Why had they done this? He turned to leave when he spotted a small, crumpled form thrown clear of the wreckage. His first thought was that she looked like an angel that had fallen from the sky. Carefully he let his fingers rest on her neck to try and feel a pulse. It was unbelievably still there. "You'll be alright, I promise," he said to the unconscious girl. "I have to find out who you are and why you helped me."
***
A concussion, exhaustion and shock, the doctor said. If only that was all, Quatre thought. He frowned at the bruises on her wrists and the obvious needle marks on her arms. He wasn't usually a vengeful person but he hoped that whoever had hurt her had been killed in the attack. More than ever he believed she had to be a member of the rebellion force. "We need a secret password or handshake to identify each other," he thought, remembering his first meeting with Trowa.
"Master Quatre," Rashid called to him, lowering his head respectfully. "I don't like to question your decisions but we can't have a woman here at the base. I'm afraid she must be a spy and besides our culture does not allow women to be involved in the waging of war. Send her to some hospital far away and forget about that battle. It was probably a trick. I do not like this."
Quatre merely shook his head and returned to the girl's bedside. He wished Trowa were here to discuss the obvious merits of what Rashid said. But he believed in his heart that she wasn't a spy, that she had really meant to help him that night. He had to know who she was and why she had purposely crashed that mobile suit.
TO BE CONTINUED . . .