Review replies!

YiyangYoung: Yeah, I've had great fantasies about having the opportunity to sit down with an entire tub of ice cream all for myself, too. Figure skating, eh? It'd be the destruction of easy PRTs and no dieting for me. (laughs) And thanks for the compliments on the characterizations! Trowa… I know he's a silent soldier, but I always figured that the quiet ones have the most going on in their skulls. And Quatre I wrote this way to stave off from the 'little angelic beauty' that everyone characterizes him as. (rolls eyes) The boy destroyed colonies and butchered people from episode 1 'till the end, for crying out loud. Little angelic beauty, my butt. Glad you're of the opinion that he's plausible! I tried quite hard to make him mesh with the characterization in the series. And in response to your question, I'm lucky to not suffer seasickness. Aircraft carriers are pretty stable, but once waves get over 30 feet they rocking fiercely. (nods)

Disclaimer: I in no way own Gundam W. Don't sue; I'm simply an E-5 in the USN, therefore I have no money. Ha.

-BEGIN FIC-

13:30 Hours --

Trowa sighed, leaning forward upon his seat, resting his chin upon his folded hands as his elbows pressed firmly into his knees. His dark eyes focused steadily upon the board before him.

Glancing away from the board, he waved to a servant who was dusting carefully around one of the meticulously placed chessboards that stood upon the far corner of the Persian rug from where he sat. She looked over, her chocolate eyes catching the rays of the sun that forced her to squint, and nodded.

"Anything I can do for you, Trowa-sama?"

"Please close the drapes. The sun is making it difficult to see."

"As you wish. Do you want me to turn on the lamps?"

"Aa."

With smooth and steady steps, the veiled girl walked to the translucent white drapes and loosened them from their rings, dragging them across the windows to block the intense light of the early afternoon sun. Instantly the rainbows that had previously been scattered around the room vanished as the sun's rays were blocked from their path to the beveled edges of the chess table Trowa currently sat at. With an easy stroll to the door, she flicked the light switch, bathing the room instantly in soft golden light from the four lamps and the lights secreted away within the pyramidal chandelier that dominated the ceiling above the delicate glass chess table.

"That will be all."

Glancing over, she nodded at Trowa's affirmation of the completion of her job for him and returned to dusting the other chess tables.

Trowa simply stared at the pieces he had arranged upon the board.

He'd replicated what Quatre had on the board that held the secrets to their last battle upon the main board that dominated the center of the room.

'Where would Quatre move from here?' he silently pondered, his eyes still dark with concentration and narrowed.

His hand hovered for a moment over the platinum queen that represented the still-missing blond.

08:20 Hours --

"Answer my question." Trowa's eyes narrowed into dangerous emerald slits.

"Fine. But I don't believe you're going to like the answer."

Trowa silently awaited Xavier's revelation.

Sighing softly, the soldier turned his gaze to the television, folding his hands in his lap. "He's with Channok. Gregory Channok. An affiliate of Douglas Kesslinger, friend of Col. Tsuberov."

'Gregory….'

'That sounds familiar….'

03:45 Hours, Yesterday --

Trowa's brain calmly relayed the information he'd gathered from the bug he'd planted on Quatre's shirt across his mind's eye.

The man's name was Gregory. He was a friend of James Waverly. He was also affiliated with Douglas, whoever that was. He was working as a computer consultant and had been called in to check out some sort of security breech and a virus that couldn't be repaired. He was usually stationed out on the eastern seaboard of the continent of North America, but had been ordered to travel out here to assist in repairing and reestablishing the network that had apparently been broken into by Rebel forces.

08:21 Hours --

"Channok. That's the man he met in the bar yesterday."

"Yeah. Greg's one of James' good friends. Not exactly someone to be trusted, but…"

"Why would Quatre be with him?"

Shrugging slightly, Xavier smirked. "Because of his affiliations with the organization, my friend. Quatre lost his link when Browens had to be eliminated."

"Explain."

Xavier arched a brow. "Quatre hasn't told you the details yet, has he?"

Trowa was swiftly becoming annoyed with the fact that this Xavier apparently knew more about what was going on than he did.

"Man, if he hasn't told you anything, it's gonna be a long tale to tell. Maybe we can continue this conversation in the kitchen? Don't know about you, but I had to skip breakfast this morning to make it over here, and I'm starved."

"Fine."

13:40 Hours --

Trowa's hand slowly crept away from the platinum queen as he shook his head. 'I can't do this. I can't think this way. I can't relate to this game like Quatre does, and therefore can't follow whatever it is he's planning.'

Returning the platinum and gold pieces to their beginning position, he rose from the plush chair and strolled over to the original board that held the battle setup they'd just completed bringing to reality - the very battle setup that had Trowa running from the implications it held in its inhumanly still portrayal of strategy.

"Queen threatened by the pawn. Rook Sandrock immobilized, unprepared to move. Rook Deathscythe surrounded by knights, bishops and rooks. Pawn to be killed by the king. A suicide mission…"

"But if we were to be next to move rather than the enemy…"

"Queen would capture the pawn. Rook Deathscythe moves to square H3, and can systematically begin eliminating every opponent without danger. And the pawn…"

Trowa's eyes widened.

"King capture?"

22:25 Hours, 2 days ago --

Trowa allowed a small smile to play along his lips as Quatre's smile faltered slightly, his eyes acquiring the slightest shimmer to them.

"Aaa ah! You're forcing me to surrender my pawn. Clever, Trowa. Very clever."

22:42 Hours, 2 days ago --

'Both bishops, which had been relinquished with no worry in his eyes. He was more panicked over that pawn than he was over the bishops…' his mind reflected.

22:44 Hours, 2 days ago --

Trowa's brow furrowed. 'Quatre's going after my knight, eh? Well, if he thinks he's going to get another one of my pieces, he's sorely mistaken.' He hurriedly moved his endangered hero from F6 to G8.

Quatre smirked.

'What? But my knight is out…'

And, with a leap of a platinum knight from D5 to C7, Quatre lifted a golden pawn.

'He wanted… oh shit.'

"Check."

13:43 Hours --

His face falling back into its neutral position, Trowa attempted to calm the rapid beating of his heart. 'He wasn't going to sacrifice the pawn. He was going to capture the king, wasn't he?'

'Even in our first game…'

'He utilizes his pawns.'

'Whether he sacrifices them or saves them, he utilizes his pawns.'

He felt like kicking himself.

08:30 Hours --

Trowa simply stared blankly at the man named Johnson as he grinned, digging into the cereal that had been brought for him.

"Mmm. Honey Smacks. Always very good."

"You said you'd relinquish with details. I'm waiting."

"Have some patience, will you?" Xavier said between bites. "With all the ruckus you and your friend Duo caused on base, putting me out of a job and slapping me into a tent to sleep, you can have the nicety to let me finish my breakfast."

Trowa sat in silence as the man hurriedly finished his bowl. After he drank the milk that remained in the bowl's bottom and handed the ceramic dish to a waiting servant, Xavier wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and nodded. "You two certainly did a number."

"We aren't here to discuss that."

"Right, right. You want to know what Quatre's up to, don't you?"

"Of course."

Xavier nodded, as he waggled a finger at a maid and mouthed the word 'muffin.' "Alright. This is what I know."

Trowa listened patiently.

14:00 Hours --

Trowa eased himself into the chair before the computer, his back to ten-foot tall windows which had heavy drapes drawn across them to keep the desert heat from soaking the room. Taking but a moment to note the golden trim around the walls, the thick carpeting on the floor and the sturdy construction of the desk, Trowa quickly shrugged off the astounding display of finery and wealth that would have landed most other people. Rather, he pressed the power button on the computer. Listening to its loud bong, he flipped open the container that Xavier Johnson had given him.

The disk he'd fought to hard to make three days ago was finally back in his hands.

His eyes narrowed as he looked at the computer screen.

Login:

He quickly typed in Quatre Raberba Winner.

Password:

'Shit.'

With a shrug, he began rummaging through the desk for any hints.

09:40 Hours --

"So Quatre's really after this supposed Romefeller Foundation."

"Yep," Xavier said, sipping from his glass.

"And this is because…?"

"Romefeller's the sponsor of OZ. OZ's orders come from the Foundation. Therefore, if he knows the motives of the Foundation, he can easily predict OZ's movements."

"And he plans to use this Channok to do it."

"Aa. Just as he was using Browens before he discovered that Quatre was affiliated with the Rebel Alliance and warned Captain Bradshaw of the infiltration attempt going on at his base."

Trowa scratched his chin. He'd have to check Quatre's board later to see if he could identify this particular strategy on any of them. "And how is he doing this?"

"What do you mean?"

"He can't be portraying himself as a soldier. Otherwise he would have targeted Captain Bradshaw to alleviate suspicion over his presence. That would have been more logical…"

Xavier laughed. "Well, yes it would have been. But it would have been the wrong target, you see? He had to get close to Browens, not Bradshaw. Cap's pretty clueless when it comes to the Foundation. Browens was active with the committee."

"Ah."

"Besides, could you see Quatre as a soldier?"

"Now that you mention it, not really."

Xavier nodded.

Trowa simply arched a brow. "So how?"

"He's using the most powerful tool known to man, my friend," the OZ soldier said as he took another sip of his drink.

"He's paying them off."

"Nope. Men in positions of power with the Foundation aren't so easily bought off. For peons like Lesley, Waverly and me, that works perfectly, but not them."

"Then what…?"

"Seduction."

The slurping sound Xavier made as he drank echoed through the silent room.

14:10 Hours --

Trowa glowered at the computer.

Quatre, apparently, simply memorized all of his codes. No written passwords on paper, no scraps with numbers on it, no hints whatsoever.

'Shit!'

He quickly reset the machine, and was presented once more with the prompt.

Login:

Grumbling, he attempted to simply press enter.

Trowa fought his body, attempting to keep his forehead from smacking into the hardwood desk as it so longed to do as the computer clicked happily and logged him in as 'Guest.'

With a snort, he popped the disk into the drive and awaited its mounting on the desktop.

09:45 Hours --

Trowa stared blankly into space.

'Seduction.'

Xavier finished his drink.

'He wouldn't…'

Arching a brow, the OZ soldier leaned forward and waved his hand before Trowa's face. "Hello?"

'He wouldn't…'

"Yo." Snapping his fingers, he frowned.

"Huh?" Trowa intelligibly replied.

"Ah, sorry there. You were kind of spacing out."

"Sorry."

"And for the grand finale of my visit here," Xavier muttered, digging into his back pocket, "here you are."

Trowa stared as the disk, HIS disk, was tossed casually onto the table. "How did you…?"

"I was the one who pulled it off of you, remember?"

"You held onto it?"

"I retrieved it when you two started raising hell at the base. It was no problem. 'Securing valuable information' and all of that other shit," Xavier said with a smile.

"Why are you betraying your organization like this?" Trowa whispered, his eyes suddenly narrowed in suspicion.

Smirking, Xavier chuckled.

"I'm not."

14:15 Hours --

Trowa's eyes were as wide as saucers as he stared at the computer screen, taking in the contents of the computer disk that had been burned for him by Quatre at the base those three long days ago.

The information he'd been entrusted with was valuable enough to be put to death over.

New developments and improvements with the Mobile Doll system.

Schematics on how to reproduce the system.

Current test sites.

Development lab sites.

Statistics on the functionality and capabilities of the system.

All encrypted to look like financial records, daily base logs, system reports and update logs.

Trowa slowly swallowed. If he'd known what he was getting himself into, he wouldn't have taken the mission in the first place.

Of course, the information he now had his grubby hands on could possibly be vital for turning the tidal wave that was currently plowing down on their heads.

He felt a satisfied smirk form upon his lips as he closed the file he was perusing. Then, something caught his eye.

It was a word file entitled 'contact log' that was saved on the desktop.

Curious, Trowa opened it.

tbc...