1 Star's Gaze
2 Chapter 7: Be it Ever So Humble, There's No Place Like Home
Kattie
Disclaimer: reads dictionary Discipliner: One who or that which disciplines.
Discipular: Of or becoming to a disciple.
Discission: In surgery, a cutting apart scrunches nose ewww..
Disclaim: skips
Disclaim (it's in here twice ^^*) To disavow all part of share.
*Disclaimer*: 1. A person who disclaims, disowns or renounces. 2. In law, an express or implied denial or renunciation of certain things in question ^^* 3. A public disavowal, as of pensions, etc…
….. ^.^* ooooook now you all know what I have done by disclaiming my beloveds! glomps G-boys and sobs
Note: Someone asked for a sequel to this sequel. Anyone have something to say on that? I wasn't planning on writing a third (okay I had considered it) but if enough people ask, I have gotten an idea. ^.~
Another Note: After serious thinking for days I've come to the conclusion this fanfiction can probably be read without reading "Bravest Eyes"… a tad confusing at a few parts but it should be alright overall. (Maybe I should put this note in the first chapter ^^*)
Important Note: Fanfiction dot net doesn't like my computer at all- and has set it to crash a lot lately ^^* And so… I haven't been able to put this online. (Plus the whole server issue) No no! I'm not insulting this glorious site! glomps ff.net I wuuuuuuv it! … After writing this I find that the document manager is down… …. ….. sorry for the LONG WAAAIIIIT! sobs sobs sobs I'm trying my best I swear!
Dedication: To Webster's New Twentieth Century Dictionary!… and CelesteFlame! Go read her fanfics! Go! Shoo! Okay fine, you can read this first if you want. BUT RIGHT AFTERWARDS you have a task ^.~
Thanks: Thank you to the Seattle Police Department for their information on guns ^^* No, not that much information. I'm not researching firearms hours on end for this fanfiction ^^*
Winner Mansion
"Do you really think that you can keep the five of us locked up in your house?" Hiiro questioned Mr. Winner.
"Of course not," Quatre's father replied, spinning side to side in his chair, "We're not staying here."
"Then where are we staying?" Wufei snapped.
"Earth." Mr. Winner said simply.
Duo shook his head, and let a disbelieving expression come to his face. "Why do you want to keep all five of us? Do you want OZ to win this war? It doesn't matter what you think about war itself, if OZ is not defeated we'll be left with a world dictator who loves death."
"Actually," Mr. Winner began, "Keeping you with me has nothing to do with the war. Quatre's been depressed lately. Maybe you can cheer him up?" He suggested.
"The only thing that could make him happier," Hiiro spat, "Would be his freedom."
Mr. Winner sighed and put a hand on Hiiro's shoulder, ignoring the death glare placed directly on his face. "That is the one thing he can't have."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Not so far away
"Well, in't it a nice surprize ta see ya 'ere, rich boy?"
The voice was familiar. As cheerful as the woman's tone was, it sent a shiver down Quatre's spine. Only months ago he had heard that exact same voice telling him of his fate. A fate which he had somehow escaped.
"Be prepared for a bad suffering this year."
Mizz Naihu. One of the four-person crew on the "Lost Hunter". One of three torturers who had made his time on that ship the most horrible and hurtful in his entire existence.
"See you've gone and remembered ol' Mizz Naihu." Naihu said in a tone that made it clear to Quatre that she was grinning. "Bet you've been dyin' ta spend so'more time with her."
"I don't have time for this right now." Quatre said with a sigh.
"Doesn't matter ta me whether Mizter Rich 'un has time fer Mizz Naihu or not." The pressure of the steel to Quatre's neck increased. "We need ta get ourselves offa the street. Don't want no one recognizing us, do we?"
"I'm sorry, Naihu, but I really don't have the time to be captured right now." Quatre repeated, a hint of annoyance making its way into his voice.
"Did yer ears go gettin' broken while you was away? I don't care if you have time for me or not, you're coming anyway."
Letting his frustration get the better of him, Quatre jerked to the left and spun around, grabbing Naihu's gone right out of her hand. Letting out another sigh, Quatre turned it to face her forehead. "You should hold your gun with both hands," he explained, "Most people in movies only use one hand but the shot is more accurate if you use both. It also helps, if using one hand, to use the hand you write with." Quatre looked Mizz Naihu in the eyes. "You're left handed."
Naihu stared at the gun in horror, going cross-eyed in the process. "I didn't mean nothin', Mizter Winner. Jus' playin'. Mizz Naihu has a regular job now. Working in security now. Good job." She forced a fake grin to her face and let her eyes plead for her life.
Quatre pocketed the gun and grinned at her. "I'm glad to hear that." He looked back at the empty car owned by the Gundam pilots. While falling into his thoughts, still keeping Mizz Naihu's presence amongst them, an idea struck him.
Hiiro wouldn't take his laptop with him on a recovery mission, so maybe, just maybe, it was still in the car.
Quatre dug his hand into his pocket and withdrew it a moment later holding his key to the car. He pushed it into the lock carefully and twisted, causing the lock to click and the button on the inside to change to "unlocked". Quatre opened the door and reached under the seat, hoping to find Hiiro's laptop.
Apparently, Lady Luck likes blondes.
He brought the laptop out from under the seat a few seconds later with a slight grin. Opening the small computer, he was greeted by the machine's mechanical voice.
"Please identify user."
Quatre knew that Hiiro had given him an identification on the laptop, but he'd never been told what it was. Then again, there were only so many ids possible, weren't there?
"Quatre."
"User registered. Please state password."
"….."
Now that was a problem. There could be literally billions of passwords, using a combination of letters and numbers. The password could be in any language from Hebrew to Celtic. It would be almost impossible to guess the password.
"Uh… Sandrock?" Quatre tried.
"Password incorrect. Voice recognized. Login process complete."
There was a short and lively melody that played as the computer loaded the desktop. "Good afternoon, Quatre." The computer stated, after finishing loading. "What would you like to do?"
Resting his fingers on the keyboard a moment, Quatre began typing. "Where is the main power supply on Level Four Colony Cluster?"
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Winner Mansion
There was a knock at the door. "Mr. Winner." A servant poked his head in and looked nervously at his employer.
"Come in." Mr. Winner said, motioning for him to enter the room.
Slowly the servant stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He had a foreboding expression on his face, looking like a man who'd just signed his own papers for execution. "Uh… sir…" The man's voice trailed off as he looked at the four pilots, silently pleading for help.
"What is it, Wesley?" Mr. Winner asked, sounding a little irritated.
"Well… sir… It's about your son…" Wesley's voice trailed off again. Tears came to his eyes when he saw the expression on his employer's face.
"What about Quatre?" Mr. Winner was now focusing all his attention on the young servant. "Did he try to escape again?"
Wesley fell silent for a moment, thinking over how he should answer this carefully. "…Yes…"
"Stupid boy!" Mr. Winner yelled, throwing his fist into the table. "Wouldn't he have learned the first time. Does he really think he can escape with a broken ankle?"
Wesley began fidgeting nervously. "Actually, sir… the problem is… you see… he DID escape…"
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Not so far away
Quatre slowly made his way through the building, stepping carefully over cords. Under his arm he carried Hiiro's laptop. Luckily, it was a Sunday, and there weren't many workers at the Power Plant. Still, what few there were, Quatre made sure to stay away from completely.
As he reached the control room, Quatre was surprised to see Naihu sitting in one of the chairs, watching the screens with interest. "Naihu?" He questioned.
Spinning in her chair, Naihu stared at Quatre with equal confusion. "Mizta Winner? What you be doin' here?"
"I have some work to do." He explained. "You?"
"Mizz Naihu," she began, "Works here. Security officer. Didn' know you been workin' here too."
"Yes, maintenance," Quatre lied, "I need to fix some of the power transmitters."
Immediately, Quatre began connecting Hiiro's laptop to the main computer. Turning it on again, he was very displeased to see the sign in screen again.
"Please identify user."
"Quatre."
"User registered. Please state password."
Again, Quatre wracked his brain for what could possibly be the password. "Winner?" He tried.
"Password incorrect. Voice recognized. Login process complete."
"That mus' be a new system. Never seen such a voice recognition program on a laptop before."
Quatre began typing quickly to finish what he had started. "It's very new."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Winner Mansion
For a moment, Mr. Winner sat still in his chair, staring at Wesley with an expression of shock and disbelief. When he finally regained himself, he stood up and walked over to Wesley, who, in turn, stepped away.
"When did he escape?" Mr. Winner asked, grabbing Wesley's shoulders.
Wesley stared at Mr. Winner in horror. "A-around the time your guests arrived, sir."
"Damn it! He must have gotten away when the guards were seeing to you!" Mr. Winner pointed at the pilots with a fixed glare.
Duo shrugged and grinned at Quatre's father. "I guess that means we've completed our mission."
Looking back to Wesley, Mr. Winner ignored Duo's comment. "Inform the police. He's still underage, therefore we're telling them that Quatre ran away from home. Set up a search party, but hire some new men for security. Tell them if they don't find my son in an hour, they're all fired."
Wesley grimaced at the word "fired". "Y-yes, sir. Right away." The servant left the room with a relieved expression. He was quite pleased at not being fired himself.
Mr. Winner sat down in his chair again, and began massaging his temples. "How could I be so stupid?" He asked himself.
"Do you understand now?" Hiiro questioned, sitting down in the chair next to him. "You can't keep the four of us here for long. If Quatre could escape with a broken ankle, it shouldn't be any problem for us."
"Be quiet!" Mr. Winner snapped, obviously seeing Hiiro's point and disliking it.
Suddenly, the lights flickered and went out.
In the pitch darkness, the movements made couldn't be seen. Only the rustling could be heard and a few voices shouting, possibly from another room. But one thing was certain. Within the minute that the light's stayed off, Mr. Winner had ended up alone in the room.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
End of Chapter ^.^
Sorry it took so long. I hope you liked this chapter. For those of you who figured out that it was Naihu tips hat Good job! (Though I hope this doesn't mean I'm predictable ^^*) See ya next chapter glomps Please review! Reviews= Inspiration= more chapters out more quickly, possibly longer too!
Thank you for reading this! Be happy and well!
2 Chapter 7: Be it Ever So Humble, There's No Place Like Home
Kattie
Disclaimer: reads dictionary Discipliner: One who or that which disciplines.
Discipular: Of or becoming to a disciple.
Discission: In surgery, a cutting apart scrunches nose ewww..
Disclaim: skips
Disclaim (it's in here twice ^^*) To disavow all part of share.
*Disclaimer*: 1. A person who disclaims, disowns or renounces. 2. In law, an express or implied denial or renunciation of certain things in question ^^* 3. A public disavowal, as of pensions, etc…
….. ^.^* ooooook now you all know what I have done by disclaiming my beloveds! glomps G-boys and sobs
Note: Someone asked for a sequel to this sequel. Anyone have something to say on that? I wasn't planning on writing a third (okay I had considered it) but if enough people ask, I have gotten an idea. ^.~
Another Note: After serious thinking for days I've come to the conclusion this fanfiction can probably be read without reading "Bravest Eyes"… a tad confusing at a few parts but it should be alright overall. (Maybe I should put this note in the first chapter ^^*)
Important Note: Fanfiction dot net doesn't like my computer at all- and has set it to crash a lot lately ^^* And so… I haven't been able to put this online. (Plus the whole server issue) No no! I'm not insulting this glorious site! glomps ff.net I wuuuuuuv it! … After writing this I find that the document manager is down… …. ….. sorry for the LONG WAAAIIIIT! sobs sobs sobs I'm trying my best I swear!
Dedication: To Webster's New Twentieth Century Dictionary!… and CelesteFlame! Go read her fanfics! Go! Shoo! Okay fine, you can read this first if you want. BUT RIGHT AFTERWARDS you have a task ^.~
Thanks: Thank you to the Seattle Police Department for their information on guns ^^* No, not that much information. I'm not researching firearms hours on end for this fanfiction ^^*
Winner Mansion
"Do you really think that you can keep the five of us locked up in your house?" Hiiro questioned Mr. Winner.
"Of course not," Quatre's father replied, spinning side to side in his chair, "We're not staying here."
"Then where are we staying?" Wufei snapped.
"Earth." Mr. Winner said simply.
Duo shook his head, and let a disbelieving expression come to his face. "Why do you want to keep all five of us? Do you want OZ to win this war? It doesn't matter what you think about war itself, if OZ is not defeated we'll be left with a world dictator who loves death."
"Actually," Mr. Winner began, "Keeping you with me has nothing to do with the war. Quatre's been depressed lately. Maybe you can cheer him up?" He suggested.
"The only thing that could make him happier," Hiiro spat, "Would be his freedom."
Mr. Winner sighed and put a hand on Hiiro's shoulder, ignoring the death glare placed directly on his face. "That is the one thing he can't have."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Not so far away
"Well, in't it a nice surprize ta see ya 'ere, rich boy?"
The voice was familiar. As cheerful as the woman's tone was, it sent a shiver down Quatre's spine. Only months ago he had heard that exact same voice telling him of his fate. A fate which he had somehow escaped.
"Be prepared for a bad suffering this year."
Mizz Naihu. One of the four-person crew on the "Lost Hunter". One of three torturers who had made his time on that ship the most horrible and hurtful in his entire existence.
"See you've gone and remembered ol' Mizz Naihu." Naihu said in a tone that made it clear to Quatre that she was grinning. "Bet you've been dyin' ta spend so'more time with her."
"I don't have time for this right now." Quatre said with a sigh.
"Doesn't matter ta me whether Mizter Rich 'un has time fer Mizz Naihu or not." The pressure of the steel to Quatre's neck increased. "We need ta get ourselves offa the street. Don't want no one recognizing us, do we?"
"I'm sorry, Naihu, but I really don't have the time to be captured right now." Quatre repeated, a hint of annoyance making its way into his voice.
"Did yer ears go gettin' broken while you was away? I don't care if you have time for me or not, you're coming anyway."
Letting his frustration get the better of him, Quatre jerked to the left and spun around, grabbing Naihu's gone right out of her hand. Letting out another sigh, Quatre turned it to face her forehead. "You should hold your gun with both hands," he explained, "Most people in movies only use one hand but the shot is more accurate if you use both. It also helps, if using one hand, to use the hand you write with." Quatre looked Mizz Naihu in the eyes. "You're left handed."
Naihu stared at the gun in horror, going cross-eyed in the process. "I didn't mean nothin', Mizter Winner. Jus' playin'. Mizz Naihu has a regular job now. Working in security now. Good job." She forced a fake grin to her face and let her eyes plead for her life.
Quatre pocketed the gun and grinned at her. "I'm glad to hear that." He looked back at the empty car owned by the Gundam pilots. While falling into his thoughts, still keeping Mizz Naihu's presence amongst them, an idea struck him.
Hiiro wouldn't take his laptop with him on a recovery mission, so maybe, just maybe, it was still in the car.
Quatre dug his hand into his pocket and withdrew it a moment later holding his key to the car. He pushed it into the lock carefully and twisted, causing the lock to click and the button on the inside to change to "unlocked". Quatre opened the door and reached under the seat, hoping to find Hiiro's laptop.
Apparently, Lady Luck likes blondes.
He brought the laptop out from under the seat a few seconds later with a slight grin. Opening the small computer, he was greeted by the machine's mechanical voice.
"Please identify user."
Quatre knew that Hiiro had given him an identification on the laptop, but he'd never been told what it was. Then again, there were only so many ids possible, weren't there?
"Quatre."
"User registered. Please state password."
"….."
Now that was a problem. There could be literally billions of passwords, using a combination of letters and numbers. The password could be in any language from Hebrew to Celtic. It would be almost impossible to guess the password.
"Uh… Sandrock?" Quatre tried.
"Password incorrect. Voice recognized. Login process complete."
There was a short and lively melody that played as the computer loaded the desktop. "Good afternoon, Quatre." The computer stated, after finishing loading. "What would you like to do?"
Resting his fingers on the keyboard a moment, Quatre began typing. "Where is the main power supply on Level Four Colony Cluster?"
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Winner Mansion
There was a knock at the door. "Mr. Winner." A servant poked his head in and looked nervously at his employer.
"Come in." Mr. Winner said, motioning for him to enter the room.
Slowly the servant stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He had a foreboding expression on his face, looking like a man who'd just signed his own papers for execution. "Uh… sir…" The man's voice trailed off as he looked at the four pilots, silently pleading for help.
"What is it, Wesley?" Mr. Winner asked, sounding a little irritated.
"Well… sir… It's about your son…" Wesley's voice trailed off again. Tears came to his eyes when he saw the expression on his employer's face.
"What about Quatre?" Mr. Winner was now focusing all his attention on the young servant. "Did he try to escape again?"
Wesley fell silent for a moment, thinking over how he should answer this carefully. "…Yes…"
"Stupid boy!" Mr. Winner yelled, throwing his fist into the table. "Wouldn't he have learned the first time. Does he really think he can escape with a broken ankle?"
Wesley began fidgeting nervously. "Actually, sir… the problem is… you see… he DID escape…"
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Not so far away
Quatre slowly made his way through the building, stepping carefully over cords. Under his arm he carried Hiiro's laptop. Luckily, it was a Sunday, and there weren't many workers at the Power Plant. Still, what few there were, Quatre made sure to stay away from completely.
As he reached the control room, Quatre was surprised to see Naihu sitting in one of the chairs, watching the screens with interest. "Naihu?" He questioned.
Spinning in her chair, Naihu stared at Quatre with equal confusion. "Mizta Winner? What you be doin' here?"
"I have some work to do." He explained. "You?"
"Mizz Naihu," she began, "Works here. Security officer. Didn' know you been workin' here too."
"Yes, maintenance," Quatre lied, "I need to fix some of the power transmitters."
Immediately, Quatre began connecting Hiiro's laptop to the main computer. Turning it on again, he was very displeased to see the sign in screen again.
"Please identify user."
"Quatre."
"User registered. Please state password."
Again, Quatre wracked his brain for what could possibly be the password. "Winner?" He tried.
"Password incorrect. Voice recognized. Login process complete."
"That mus' be a new system. Never seen such a voice recognition program on a laptop before."
Quatre began typing quickly to finish what he had started. "It's very new."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Winner Mansion
For a moment, Mr. Winner sat still in his chair, staring at Wesley with an expression of shock and disbelief. When he finally regained himself, he stood up and walked over to Wesley, who, in turn, stepped away.
"When did he escape?" Mr. Winner asked, grabbing Wesley's shoulders.
Wesley stared at Mr. Winner in horror. "A-around the time your guests arrived, sir."
"Damn it! He must have gotten away when the guards were seeing to you!" Mr. Winner pointed at the pilots with a fixed glare.
Duo shrugged and grinned at Quatre's father. "I guess that means we've completed our mission."
Looking back to Wesley, Mr. Winner ignored Duo's comment. "Inform the police. He's still underage, therefore we're telling them that Quatre ran away from home. Set up a search party, but hire some new men for security. Tell them if they don't find my son in an hour, they're all fired."
Wesley grimaced at the word "fired". "Y-yes, sir. Right away." The servant left the room with a relieved expression. He was quite pleased at not being fired himself.
Mr. Winner sat down in his chair again, and began massaging his temples. "How could I be so stupid?" He asked himself.
"Do you understand now?" Hiiro questioned, sitting down in the chair next to him. "You can't keep the four of us here for long. If Quatre could escape with a broken ankle, it shouldn't be any problem for us."
"Be quiet!" Mr. Winner snapped, obviously seeing Hiiro's point and disliking it.
Suddenly, the lights flickered and went out.
In the pitch darkness, the movements made couldn't be seen. Only the rustling could be heard and a few voices shouting, possibly from another room. But one thing was certain. Within the minute that the light's stayed off, Mr. Winner had ended up alone in the room.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
End of Chapter ^.^
Sorry it took so long. I hope you liked this chapter. For those of you who figured out that it was Naihu tips hat Good job! (Though I hope this doesn't mean I'm predictable ^^*) See ya next chapter glomps Please review! Reviews= Inspiration= more chapters out more quickly, possibly longer too!
Thank you for reading this! Be happy and well!