I know you're out there people, I can hear you breathing. Type something up about the story so I know if I've screwed up. You may notice our star is a little...vindictive. She got it from her dad.
Uno
She paced. She paced often. There wasn't much room for it, and Uno could barely take two steps before having to turn, but she had settled into the routine long ago. It was the only real activity she was allowed.
She was Jail's biological daughter, nearly his clone. Despite this, she was not the same as him. Jail himself had known there was a danger in creating another him, and while Uno shared his genes she did not share his mental conditioning. It meant little to her; she wasn't aware of the difference because she had never experienced it. To the Bureau pyschologists, however, it meant everything; Uno was, in relative terms, sane.
Like Jail she wasn't ever going to win any accolades for her personality. Uno was quite aware that Quattro had tried to kill her to get her out of the way. In fact, the senior Combat Cyborg didn't even consider any other reason for why Quattro would have done what she did. Testarossa was too far away from the Cradle to reach it before it had gotten too high for a flight mage to reach without oxygen assist. Testarossa had posed absolutely no threat to the greater plan.
No, Quattro had known of Uno's suspicions about her lack of sanity and general untrustworthiness, and given the chance had attempted to eliminate her elder sister. It was a blatant, naked power grab. Uno wasn't terribly surprised by that. Nor was she surprised that Jail had allowed it to proceed. Of all the Combat Cyborgs she knew best what their father was truly like. She was his flesh and blood after all.
That did not mean she was okay with it. The Engineer's Revenge Jail had spoken of so grandly had an engineer of its own. Some of the other Combat Cyborgs had been extranous to the plan, certainly, but not her. She was indispensible to Jail achieving any level of success, her skills allowing her to keep tabs on what the Bureau knew and suspected about him, about what his benefactors were thinking of him. Without her, Due's infiltration would have been impossible, the Relics untrackable.
The engineer of the Engineer's Revenge was more than willing to get a little revenge of her own when the time came, as she knew it must. Jail had a plan for this occurance too. It was merely a waiting game.
The Bureau had assumed her behavior the result of loyalty or general intractableness. They had been right, partially. The truth was she had been feeling rather vindictive when she was taken into custody, particularly over the rather…uncouth interrogation technique that had been used first. It was a personality trait entirely descended from Jail.
But now she waited. Like Jail, she was quite aware of the value of timing. Unlike him, she had carefully considered all the variables. Admittedly, because there were far fewer with only two opponents to fight as opposed to the entire Bureau. To Uno however that was merely proof that she was right; she knew how to pick her battles.
Uno knew everything there was to know about Jail's networks, his hidden bases, his other benefactors besides the high council, his infiltration of the Bureau hierarchy. It was information that even the Bureau would gladly have killed for. She had every intention of making use of it. But not immeditately, eventually.
Despite all that she knew, Uno was not privy to the details of every contingency plan Jail had, only aware of their existence. A random stab in the back would serve no purpose. It would be a mere inconvenience, not a threat. Jail and Quattro would find out about the old bases and people being compromised and not go to them, if Uno just went and told the Bureau everything now. Uno wanted to make sure she hurt Jail and Quattro. By waiting, she could bring their world down around them.
So she bided her time. Either Quattro in her infinite maliciousness would find a way out of this prison, or Jail would tire of his cell and set his plans in motion. In the meantime Uno had done her best to convince them both she bore them no ill-will. Her communications with them were all written-form and screened, everything paraphrased by a rotating censorship officer to prevent coded communications being passed, so how successful she was she could not entirely know. Still she was fairly sure it had worked.
So she waited patiently, a knife with blackened blade held high over its unsuspecting victims. Uno quite enjoyed that imagery. She would have enjoyed literally stabbing the two in the back as well, but knew that this was her only recourse.
Unless the Bureau let her enlist after one or the other escaped. That would be very satisifying. One more thought to hold close while she counted down the days, waiting for her chance to strike.