The Road to OZ (6?)

by Anne

Ratings/warnings: OK (Oz/Kiwi spelling/grammar etc) – PG13 – Action, drama, angst. Gundam Wing/Stargate SG1 xover.

Pairings: - Gundam Wing: 3x4, 1x2, 5+S.
- Stargate SG1: Non specific (at this stage although this may change as the story progresses.)

Summary: When a gateway is unintentionally opened, two unrelated missions become one desperate struggle for survival. SG1 and the Gundam pilots must join forces to take control of a weapon that could affect the future of both their worlds.

Archive: http/dryerspace. Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I promise to return the boys in one piece, more or less, when I'm finished, but hold no liability for any physical injury or psychological trauma sustained by them in my fiction.

Stargate SG1 are owned by Stargate (ll) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Products.

Thanks to the beta team: Bast, Hex, haraamis and Spaceseeker. Also to Misanagi and Linda for their input and support.

Comments to: anne Six

"Back off, Maybourne," Jack muttered under his breath. From the corner of his eye, he saw Quatre grimace and heard him mutter a comment under his breath.

"You wound me," Maybourne sniffed. "I'm merely showing /my/ good manners and introducing myself to the boy."

"I don't remember inviting you to the party," Jack said.

"He does this often?" Quatre asked him, raising an eyebrow. His expression wasn't that of surprise but of resignation.

"Colonel O'Neill doesn't like to share," Maybourne said, eyes darting between Jack and Quatre. Maybourne might be an idiot, but he was still a dangerous idiot. There was no way in hell that Jack was prepared to release these boys into Maybourne's care.

"Quatre is our guest," Daniel said, interjecting into the conversation. "The NID has no…"

"Oh, I assure you, Dr. Jackson," Maybourne said, "that we have every right." He smiled, and Jack fought the urge to punch his lights out. "I'm sure Senator Kinsey will see my point of view." Maybourne's eyes narrowed. "As much as you would like to believe that you have control over everything that comes through the gate, that assumption is erroneous."

He took a step closer to Quatre and smiled again. The kid took a step backwards. "I've been looking forward to meeting you and your friend, young man. You'll find that we take care of our…" He paused, glaring over at Daniel. Daniel straightened his glasses and glared back. "Guests." Maybourne ignored the glare. "Tsk tsk, Jack. Throwing children into cells as though they were dangerous terrorists. I'm surprised at you."

/Damn/ Jack thought. /Son of a bitch knows something./

Quatre's looked up sharply at Maybourne's words. "Colonel O'Neill has acted no differently than I would have in this situation." His words were matter-of-fact.

"And what situation would that be? Exactly?" Maybourne asked.

Quatre smiled. "I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to share that information." He paused. "And I would prefer my present accommodation to those you offer."

"Unfortunately, it's not up to you," Maybourne retorted.

"But it /is/ up to me." Hammond was annoyed, although his tone was polite. Jack hadn't seen him enter, but nothing got past the old man, especially when it concerned the SGC.

Maybourne smiled. "Your authority only extends so far." Jack rolled his eyes.

"It extends far enough, Colonel," Hammond replied.

"We'll see," Maybourne said. He gave Jack a curt nod. Jack didn't bother replying. "I really must be off."

"What a shame," Jack muttered under his breath just a little too loudly.

Maybourne shrugged, adjusting his hat. "You really need to work on your manners, Jack." He held out his hand to Quatre again. The kid ignored him. "I can see you've spent too much time here already. We'll have to do something about that."

"Over my dead body, Maybourne." While Jack wasn't sure what to believe about these kids, he would be the one to discover the truth, not Maybourne. The NID weren't exactly known for their warmth and hospitality, and, terrorists or not, Quatre and Trowa were still kids. For the moment, he'd shove aside his doubts about them. It didn't mean he trusted or believed them, but he trusted Maybourne even less. There were also bonus points in the fact that this would sure as hell piss Maybourne off.

"Interesting offer." Maybourne's smile became even less convincing. "Gentlemen," he said and nodded. Half way through the door to the cell he paused and looked back at Quatre. "Nice meeting you, young man, although I suggest you work on those manners."

A half-pained expression flashed momentarily through Quatre's eyes and his lips pursed. He said something that Jack couldn't understand in a low tone. Daniel, who was standing closer, turned an interesting shade of red. Whatever the kid had said, Jack figured it had been rather more than an educated guess about Maybourne's parentage. Definitely one to ask Daniel about, and file for later use/if /Daniel could be persuaded to share.

"Good day, Colonel." Hammond gave Jack a warning look before he could add his two cents worth.

Jack grinned at Maybourne. "What he said. Enjoy it while you can."

Trowa stopped pacing at the sound of voices outside the cell door. Although he was aware that he was giving a good impression of a caged animal, he had no intention of showing his true reaction to the current situation. Lacing his fingers together, he leaned back against the wall near the cot and folded his arms against his chest.

The door opened and two people entered. He didn't recognise either of them.

The blonde woman spoke first. "I'm Major Samantha Carter. This is Teal'c." She gave him a nod and held out her hand in greeting.

The man beside her inclined his head. He was tall, his build reminding Trowa of Rashid. On his forehead was a gold symbol, and he and the Major were both dressed in green trousers and a t-shirt. Field uniform? Trowa wondered, remembering that O'Neill and Dr. Jackson had been similarly attired when they had visited him and Quatre in the infirmary.

"Trowa Barton." Trowa had already shared that information, so he saw no harm in stating it again. He made no effort to move and shake Carter's hand. Quatre would have, but he wasn't Quatre.

"We've met before," Carter continued brightly, "in the storeroom on your world, but you were unconscious at the time."

Trowa nodded. O'Neill had mentioned her name. Trowa hoped that their knives would be returned. It was all that he had left of his Gundam and although he wouldn't admit to being sentimental about that fact, his knife had been engraved with Quatre's pilot designation.

"How long do you intend to hold us here?" Trowa frowned, feeling his sense of Quatre grow suddenly stronger as his partner reached out for him empathically. Quatre was uneasy, which was never a good sign, and that uneasiness was increasing the longer they remained on this world. Outwardly, Quatre seemed calm and in control, and Trowa had no doubt that the blond was already calculating scenarios to enable them to extract themselves from this situation. However, something had happened to throw Quatre off balance, and although he had insisted that he was okay, Trowa knew that he wasn't.

"How long do you intend to withhold information?" Carter countered.

"That would depend on the information you presume I'm withholding." Trowa kept his tone even. "We've already spoken to Colonel O'Neill and Dr. Jackson." He uncrossed his arms but continued leaning against the wall.

"What is your real name?" Teal'c's expression matched Trowa's own, as did his tone.

"I've already told you that you can call me Trowa Barton." Trowa struggled to hide his reaction to the question. What the hell had initiated /that?

"That may be the name you're using, but we know it's not who you are." Carter paused. "03."

"You have no idea who I am." Trowa shrugged. "Names from our world mean nothing in yours." It was true. Daniel had not realised the significance of the Winner name, so why should they be interested in a name borrowed from a dead man?

"We know that you and your friend are Gundam pilots," Carter continued.

Trowa raised an eyebrow. Quatre would not have shared that information without reason, but then Nichol had already been aware of their identities before they had walked into his trap. Trowa had never trusted the man, even during the war, and Nichol had been suspicious of Trowa from the moment he had joined OZ. "And your point is?"

"We all act in ways we are not proud of, Trowa Barton," Teal'c said. "But a true warrior acts with honour."

"Define honour," Trowa said quietly.

"How would you define it?" Carter seemed genuinely interested in Trowa's answer. "Destroying colonies? Attacking off duty soldiers?"

"It is dangerous to judge events and people that you have little to no knowledge of." Trowa's voice grew cold. Whatever the source of information was, it appeared to be one-sided and most probably from an OZ sympathiser. "Not everyone has the luxury of being a 'true warrior'." Trowa paused and looked directly at Teal'c. "War is a dirty business and soldiers have to make decisions for what they hope is the greater good." He shrugged. "Sometimes it is the right decision, sometimes it isn't. All soldiers have blood on their hands, whether intentional or not."

Carter and Teal'c were quiet, watching him, waiting, but for what Trowa wasn't sure.

"Everyone has to live with consequences," Trowa continued. Quatre wasn't the only one with nightmares. Trowa had simply learnt to hide his better than most. "Victory comes with a heavy price for both sides." His next words were barely more than a whisper; he wasn't even sure if he spoke them aloud. "And neither ever has the luxury of forgetting."

Teal'c seemed thoughtful. "I am surprised to hear such sentiment in one so young." He might not have fought in the war, but from the way he spoke, Trowa realised that the other man understood, that he had fought his own battles, lived with his own consequences and inability to forget. Trowa regretted that Quatre wasn't here. He would have known how to bridge the gap between them and use it to their advantage.

/Anger. Fear./

Trowa cringed from the echo of Quatre's anger and hid the movement by stretching slightly. He smiled, his mouth turning up a fraction. The idiots would learn soon enough how dangerous it was to piss off his lover.

"Where's Quatre?" he asked, keeping his tone calm as he abruptly changed the subject.

"What were you doing in the storeroom on your world?" Carter didn't answer Trowa's question.

/Guilt. Regret. Protectiveness./

Quatre was struggling to stay calm. Trowa recognised the emotions as those often connected with Quatre's nightmares.

"I asked you a question," Trowa said, hiding his own agitation. What was happening to Quatre? If these people harmed him, Trowa would…

"Your friend is fine," Carter said. She and Teal'c exchanged a glance.

"Really?" Trowa glared at her. He had spent enough time in the company of OZ to know that captors tended to have a warped definition of that word.

"Really," Carter repeated. She smiled. It did nothing to set Trowa's mind at ease.

/Anger. Worry. Concern./

"There is no need to question us separately," Trowa said, wishing not for the first time, that Quatre wouldn't insist on playing the overprotective hero. Self-preservation was not one of Quatre's strong points, especially where those he cared about were concerned. "We are not your enemies." From what information he and Quatre had managed to discover, it appeared as though these people were not connected to the original Preventers' mission.

O'Neill and his team appeared to have stumbled onto the storeroom unintentionally. How much control did they have over this Stargate? Trowa shook his head. Quatre had often expressed the desire to start over, to find a place where he had no expectations to live up to, no fear of atonement for his past actions, for /their/ past actions. The identities of the Gundam pilots were not common knowledge, but Trowa was not foolish enough to think that the information could be kept hidden forever. As he had told Teal'c, actions have consequences.

"We only have your word on that," Carter said. "How do we know that you aren't playing both sides?" She paused, no doubt to give him the chance to react. "You've done this before."

"I'm not," Trowa said simply. He did not have the energy to argue and doubted that it would do more than add to her suspicions. "What is the source of your information?"

"Are you denying its authenticity?" Teal'c asked.

"Information is often tainted by the opinions of those who provide it." Trowa reached out empathically for Quatre, trying to reassure him while trying to hide his own misgivings.

There was no response.

"It's important to hear both sides before drawing conclusions." Trowa frowned. What was happening to Quatre? Trowa still had a sense of him, but it was not like Quatre not to respond. Could something be blocking their connection? Was that even possible? There was so much about Quatre's empathic abilities that he didn't understand.

"Are you denying that you are a Gundam Pilot and a terrorist?" Carter asked.

"We fought because there was no choice," Trowa said. "Don't presume to judge where you have no right." He moved away from the wall. The cell door had been locked behind Carter and Teal'c after they had entered. Trowa had no weapons and no idea of Quatre's whereabouts.

"We have the right to protect our own, Trowa Barton," Teal'c said.

"So do I," Trowa snapped. What the hell were these people doing to Quatre? Trowa reached out again, closing his eyes in an attempt to focus. He'd grown used to the reassurance of Quatre's presence. Quatre was a capable man, well able to take care of himself, but this mission had taken several turns for the unexpected, and Trowa didn't like it.

"Are you okay?" Carter's voice cut through his thoughts. Trowa felt a brief caress against his consciousness and let out a sigh of relief.

"Fine," he said curtly, hoping that she wasn't about to ask for a definition of what he meant by /that/.

Voices outside prevented the conversation from going further. Teal'c raised an eyebrow as one voice in particular grew louder. Carter rolled her eyes and attempted to hide a groan.

"Friend?" Trowa couldn't resist asking. Neither replied. The door opened and a man entered. The uniform he wore was presumably military and his smile most definitely fake.

"Major Carter." The man tilted his hat towards her. "What a pleasant surprise."

"Colonel," Carter replied. "I wish I could say the same."

The man frowned slightly, but instead of answering her he held out his hand to Trowa. Trowa ignored it. "Come now, young man," the Colonel said, his tone showing his disapproval. "Where are your manners?"

Trowa glared at him. "Outside this cell," he muttered.

"Colonel Harry Maybourne, NID." Maybourne didn't withdraw his hand. It made him look like an idiot. "I've been looking forward to meeting you, Mr. Barton."

"I don't wish I could say the same," Trowa said, "and I don't recall telling you my name."

Maybourne tapped the side of his nose. "I've just had a nice chat with your friend. Charming young man when he wants to be, I expect."

"You have no idea." Trowa adopted a bored tone to hide his annoyance. If this man was the reason for what he'd felt from Quatre, Trowa was not impressed.

"What is the purpose of your visit?" Teal'c asked. He seemed as pleased to see Maybourne as Carter.

"As direct as ever, I see." Maybourne chuckled. He glanced around the cell. "Better conditions than those I left young Winner in, but still not exactly the first class accommodations I would expect."

"Better?" Trowa took a step forward. He didn't like the insinuations Maybourne was making.

"The cells are identical," Carter said, placing a warning hand on Trowa's arm.

"If you insist, Major." Maybourne grinned at her. The coldness in his eyes confirmed Trowa's suspicions that Maybourne's manner and tone were part of an act. Trowa knew from experience just how dangerous it could be to judge someone by outward appearance and demeanor.

"I do/Colonel/." Carter placed herself between Maybourne and Trowa.

"We can offer you so much more." Maybourne ignored her and directed his next comment to Trowa. "Information is something I'm always interested in."

"Life is full of disappointments," Trowa replied.

"You'll find that I get what I want, young man," Maybourne said. "The SGC and my organisation have an understanding regarding the flow of information. I am sorely disappointed to learn that they have been disregarding that policy."

It appeared that bureaucracy was alive and well in this world too. Quatre would be overjoyed. For the first time since they had been captured, Trowa was pleased that they no longer had their Gundams. "I do not have anything you want," he told Maybourne.

Information he did not possess could not be shared. While it was true that he had worked on Heavyarms before Operation Meteor, but without plans he could not rebuild it. Quatre had built Wing Zero, but he'd had resources to draw on and the blueprints. The Gundams were gone. Even if somehow they were rebuilt, they would be useless without a pilot and neither he nor Quatre would cooperate.

"I'll be the judge of that," Maybourne said.

The cell door opened again. General Hammond entered, flanked by two armed guards. He looked annoyed. "Maybourne, I believe I told you to leave."

Maybourne shrugged. "I decided to acquaint myself with the other pilot on my way out."

Other /pilot? How much information was Maybourne privy to? Was the source the same as SG1's?

"Don't push me, Colonel," Hammond said.

"Just following orders, General." Maybourne gave Trowa a nod. "We will talk more later. I'm certain with the right incentives we could embark on a very lucrative relationship."

Trowa muttered a few choice words under his breath. Time spent in the company of Abdul had its advantages at times. Trowa had been more than interested in adding Arabic to the languages in which he could swear fluently.

Maybourne dropped his façade for a moment to glare at Trowa. "Watch your manners."

"I am," Trowa said, matching the glare with one of his own. Given the opportunity, he would show Maybourne exactly why it was not a good idea to mess with Gundam pilots.

"Colonel," Hammond interrupted, taking control of the situation. "Sergeant. Corporal. Escort Colonel Maybourne off the base."

"General." Maybourne tipped his hat, the smile back in place. "Nice seeing you again, Major. Teal'c." He began walking towards the door. "I'm sure Senator Kinsey will find my report most interesting." Maybourne looked at Trowa. "I'll be seeing you later. And your friend."

Trowa leaned back against the wall, and folded his arms. His decision was already made. If Quatre was threatened in any way, or Maybourne followed through with any of his insinuations, Trowa would kill him.

"I don't like this," Duo muttered. "First Cat and Tro disappear and now Wufei and Sally."

"They haven't disappeared," Heero said, calmly. Like Duo, his weapon was drawn, and he was examining their new surroundings warily. "They are here somewhere. We will find them."

"When did you become Mr. Optimist?" Duo asked.

"I'm merely stating facts," Heero said. The satellite appeared to be strangely empty. Suspiciously so, but he doubted that they were alone.

"Right," Duo said in the tone that usually meant he wasn't convinced. "I don't like this."

"You've already said that." Heero checked the corridor ahead and gave the all-clear sign.

"So, I'm saying it again." Duo came up beside Heero. They moved forward cautiously, taking turns to check the area ahead and provide cover. "It's just a matter of time before the resident wicked witch turns up to throw us into her oven."

Heero raised an eyebrow. Sometimes the analogies Duo made were far from logical. "It's more likely to be one with guns than an oven."

"J wasn't big on fairy tales as part of a well rounded education, huh?" Duo rolled his eyes. "Hansel and Gretel. Gingerbread house. A trail of breadcrumbs."

"I'm familiar with the story," Heero said. "But, even if you're right, and this operation was designed to attract Gundam pilots, it is more likely that the witch already has Trowa and Quatre and therefore will not be expecting us."

"Depends if they're after just them or all of us." Duo shook his head. "I don't feel like playing fly to their spider. I say we find the guys, kick ass and get out of here." He spoke into his radio again. "05, this is 02, come in 05."

He was answered by static. Whatever had taken out their communications when they had arrived was preventing internal radio contact, too. Heero doubted that Wufei would have switched his radio off, and Sally was not answering either.

"Did you hear that?" Duo placed a warning hand on Heero's arm.

Heero listened carefully, but could hear nothing. "Mice?" he said, immediately on guard.

"Or large rats," Duo replied, smiling grimly. "Looks like we're about to get some company." He stopped at the junction between two corridors. There was a slight squelching noise, rubber against metal. Whoever was expecting them had moved suddenly and not taken into account the sound of the soles of their boots against the floor.

"Good." Heero preferred to meet their enemy directly rather than waiting for the inevitable attack.

Duo pointed to the left corridor. It led further into the centre of the satellite, while the alternative would mean retreating back the way they had come. "Further into the valley of death?"

"Let's get this over with." Heero headed down the corridor, Duo behind him. At each doorway they stopped, checked the room, one covering the other, and then moved on. Nearing the end of the long corridor they heard the distinct sound of a gun cocking.

"Down!" Duo yelled. They both rolled and came up, guns at the ready. "Damnit, what the hell are they waiting for?"

The sound of solitary clapping filled the air. A man walked out in front of them, his gun still in his holster. "Why, Mr. Maxwell," he said. "We were waiting for you."

Heero and Duo glanced at each other. Duo shrugged. "Excuse me if I don't thank you."

The man laughed. "Lower your weapons, gentlemen. I assure you that you're surrounded."

Several men stepped out of the shadows, all heavily armed.

Duo snorted. "Bad guys always have to make a statement. Haven't you people heard of being subtle?"

"They're probably as familiar with the concept as you are," Heero muttered.

"Hey!" Duo said. "I can do subtle."

"Right." Heero knew that Duo was using their banter as a distraction while he sized up their enemy and worked out possible escape routes. There weren't any.

"I believe introductions are in order," the man said. "It's quite remiss of me to forget my manners." He nodded and another man stepped forward. "Nichol here will relieve you of your weapons and then we'll get better acquainted."

"Fucking traitor." Duo lowered his gun. There was no point in committing suicide. They were outnumbered.

Nichol smirked. "I'm working for the greater good," he said. "You pilots need to be taught your correct place in the scheme of things." He took their weapons, another man covering them while he searched them thoroughly.

"Quite the arsenal." His superior nodded. "You boys certainly enjoy playing with your toys." Nichol had found their knives and the spare gun Heero carried.

"I'm a playful kind of guy," Duo said, his eyes glinting dangerously. He glared at Nichol. "Except when I'm pissed."

Heero had never understood why Une had given Nichol a position within the Preventer organisation. None of the pilots had ever trusted him.

"Mr. Maxwell, Mr. Yuy." The man seemingly in charge still hadn't drawn his gun. It was foolish to rely totally on the firepower of others to keep him safe. Even without weapons, the Gundam pilots were still dangerous. "My name is McConnell. Colonel McConnell. You may call me sir."

"Like hell," Duo snorted. "I only use that to address people I respect."

"You will respect me before we're done," McConnell said. "Just remember, Maxwell, that, once this operation is underway/you/ are expendable."

"Tsk tsk," a familiar voice interrupted. Heero spun around, unable to hide his disbelief. "That kind of attitude is not the way to achieve the results you want."

An older man pushed his way through the group of armed men, another shorter man dressed similarly in a white coat, by his side.

"Don't you guys know how to stay dead?" Duo sounded angry. Past angry.

Heero glared at the two scientists. He didn't like the way the dots were connecting in this particular puzzle. "Where are Trowa and Quatre?" he demanded.

J and H exchanged a glance, then J smiled. "Nice to see you again, too, boy. Your presence is just what we need."

End of Chapter Six

TBC