Author's Note: Things only go downhill from here on in. Also, I finally name another OC, this one by ShadowMajin. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or ShadowMajin's Brett Castle.
Warning: language, violence, death
Septum Takes Control
It was a misty morning that met Solo and company as they arrived one what had used to be the Noventa Estate. As they had unknowingly crossed the state border into California, the scenery around them had changed from barren wasteland to lush forest. Solo had never seen so much green in one place before in his entire life and while Dorothy didn't seemed that impressed by it, Trowa looked as if he was right at home as he continuously took deep breaths. It was a sound that was starting to annoy the blond and he knew for a fact that the unibanged fellow was not short of breath.
In truth, it had been some time since Trowa had been in the company of populace vegetation and it was a whole new, invigorating experience that he just had to breath in the cleaner air. It was so much better in quality than the air in the barren state of Arizona but he wasn't going to complain, not when he was experiencing such orgasmic joy.
No more were they surrounded by the sweltering heat of the desert, the same arid wasteland that easily zapped the strength out of everything not used to its unforgiving touch. The very coolness of the woods the trio found themselves in was a welcome sensation. No longer was the sun beating down on them, its heat attempting to burn them unmercifully. Instead, it was filtered out by the shade that fell onto them, the light and heat from the sun blocked by the multitudes of branches and leaves, nature's natural umbrellas.
The sounds of chirping birds filled the silence among the trio, none of the three venturing to say anything. That was how Solo preferred it actually; there would be enough time to talk once he found Duo.
"Wait," Trowa suddenly spoke up as they reached a dirt covered lane that ran through the woods. The unibanged young man looked as if he was searching for something or using that radar he had, Solo supposed. Looking down at the dirt lane, he noticed tire tracks running on it but he paid it no mind since he figured it meant nothing. Without warning, Trowa began marching across the lane and into the woods on the other side, stopping and crouching a distance away from it, his hand resting on some grass that held no significance to the blond.
"What is it?" he asked as he came up from behind, Dorothy following in his tracks.
Trowa frowned for a second and answered, "Duo was right here. The plants remember it clearly."
"Well where did he go?" the blond demanded, a hint of excitement in his voice.
"I can't tell quite yet," Trowa said. "I getting some gossip of there being others around at the time but…" he paused as the wind blew gently against them but carried the unmistakable smell of smoke.
"What?" Solo looked up. "Ya smell that?"
"Most definitely," Trowa replied, standing up.
"C'mon," Solo said and rushed ahead, Trowa following behind. Dorothy, though, paused for a second and bent down to pick something up. Not wanting to get left behind, she took off after the other two, carrying the long, ropy object in one hand.
Solo crashed through the underbrush, unfazed by all the small branches and thorny bushes that happened to be in his way. Breaking through a large hedge that didn't seem to be natural in this kind of place, he stumbled into an extremely large clearing which held the smoking remains of what used to be the Noventa manor.
Coming out from behind, Trowa quipped, "I think you left a rosebush untrampled back there." Looking ahead, he fell silent immediately.
In no time, Dorothy arrived but said nothing having managed to see the see-through column of smoke through the Solo-shaped hole-in-the-hedge.
After a few minutes of tense silence, Dorothy was the first to speak up. "What do you think could've caused that?"
"Don't know," Trowa answered, "but it had to have been something big if this place was burned to the ground." Glancing to the girl, he asked, "Where'd you get that thing?"
Looking over at the girl, Solo's eyes widened slightly and he snatched the strange, brown-colored rope that the blonde girl had brought with her. Examining it for a minute, the blond spoke, "This is Duo's braid!"
"How do you know that?" Dorothy asked, wondering how Solo would know such a thing.
"Trust me, I seen 'um braid the damn thing and it looks exactly like this," Solo stated, taking his eyes off the braid. "Where'd ya find this?"
"Somewhere back there, when we stopped," Dorothy answered, gesturing back towards the woods.
"Why'd he cut it off?" Solo wondered aloud. "He loved da damn thing more than himself."
"Nothing's adding up," Trowa murmured aloud, a pondering expression on his face. "Duo was here, I'm sure of it. But when we get here, there's nothing left and no Duo."
"Meaning he ran away or was captured," Dorothy stated her suggestion.
"Can ya find where he is?" Solo questioned, his green, slowly changing into amber, eyes looking over that the other male.
"I can try," Trowa replied.
"Then do it," Solo ordered, leaving no room for argument or anything else.
"Fine," Trowa sighed and closed his eyes in concentration.
Having gotten used to all the strange habits that her companions partook in, Dorothy looked back towards Solo who was gripping the Duo-less braid tightly in both of his hands. He really did care about his friend, didn't he? After what she had heard they had been through, she wasn't surprised but seeing that kind of devotion…not even she had had that with Relena, her best friend in the whole wide world. In fact, she hadn't bothered to look for her this whole time, not since escaping that nightmare at the circus, and she had had plenty of opportunity to leave to go search for both Relena and Heero. She could've left a long time ago, but she hadn't and she didn't know why…
Yet here was Solo, looking for his best friend the second he found out he was missing and the intensity that he pursued this venture with was astounding. She didn't know whether or not to be jealous that Solo was doing this all for Duo or the fact it wasn't her he was looking for…
"Got something," Trowa spoke up, his eyes snapping open. "It's barely there but I know where he is."
"Then what da hell are ya waitin' for?" Solo spoke up. "Let's get a move on!"
"After me then," the unibanged young man said, turning towards what seemed to be a random direction only to be stopped as Solo grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. Trowa gave the blond a quizzical look, wondering what Solo was doing since he was so impatient in finding his wayward friend.
"Can ya take us there faster than walkin'?" the blond demanded.
"I don't think so," Trowa stated blandly.
"Hey, ya burrowed ya way away from those assholes in the lab coats and I don't think ya stopped just outside of da place either," Solo said, amber eyes boring into Trowa's emerald.
"What makes you think I'm capable of transporting three people that way over a stretch of maybe a hundred if not two hundred miles?" Trowa demanded, becoming defensive.
"If ya could do it then, you can do it now," Solo said firmly. "You've had so much time ta get stronger. I think ya can do it."
Staring the blond down, Trowa looked away and sighed. "Alright, I'll give it a shot but don't get your hopes up."
"That's more like it," Solo smirked. "Knew ya would've seen it my way."
"Don't get a big head just yet," Trowa muttered as web-like roots slowly began to grow out of the ground and form a ball around them. The round, brown orb slowly sank into the earth, taking the three companions down into the bowls of the planet in which they lived on.
---
The majesty that was Washington D.C. was lost on Septum as he awaited the arrival of his militaristic peers. It was time for the unveiling of Project Maxwell and the General was more than enthused to show off his new weapons. He didn't have a full idea of what Xavien was planning but he needed not worry about opposition from certain sources.
Besides, if he got a resounding "nay" from his colleagues, he'd just "clean house" as his partner-in-crime suggested.
Currently, he was standing in the middle of a large circular room, surrounded by curved tables that formed rows similar to what could be found at a UN Council room or a University Auditorium-classroom. Behind him stood the black clad forms of the two weapons Xavien had sent to him. He had an idea of what their abilities were and had elected to call them by their names and not by the number ID that Xavien had sent with them.
The taller one was known as Brett Castle and according to his file and verbal confirmation, he had control over liquids. Both the file and Brett hadn't elaborated on it but the file did say that his specialties included assassination. Still, as long as Brett followed his orders, he could care less about what he was trained as.
The other one was known as Rex and the file on him was even more ambiguous than Brett's. According to it, and the boy as well, his power was "combustion," whatever that meant. He supposed it had something to do with fire or something close to that; otherwise, he had no clue as to what it meant.
The room was slowly filling as military personnel and high ranking politicians entered and leisurely walked down the steep stairs, dividing into the rows created by the curved tables and taking seats in the chairs positioned at equal intervals. The noise level was slowly rising, a pet peeve of Septum's that he disliked. Talking for just the sake of talking had never really been on his list of enjoyable things to do and was something that annoyed him.
Well, at least he could say that there wouldn't be any noise once he unveiled what these weapons could do.
A flash of white caught his eye and when he looked up, he nearly blanched. There standing in the doorway was none other than Admiral Noventa himself. But he thought Xavien had dealt with him already! Yeah, that was right; there was nothing he needed to be concerned about. Everything was already taken care of and all he needed to do was act, something he felt more comfortable with than anything.
Noventa's jovial boomed throughout the room, the acoustics working wonders for it as the Admiral said, "I hope that whatever it is that you're presenting, Septum, is worth me cutting my vacation short. My granddaughter was quite displeased that I had to leave so soon."
Chuckling nervously and pulling at the collar of his uniform, Septum answered, "I assure you, Admiral, that you will be more than compensated, that is if you will take a seat so we can get started…"
"No thank you, I'd prefer to stand," Noventa said, his eyes twinkling mirthfully.
"Of course…" Septum trailed off awkwardly, becoming slightly nervous as he became the center of attention. He conquer over his stage fright soon enough as he began, "I thank you all for coming on such short notice. Recently, there have been rumors about a weapons program called Project Maxwell and today I wish to clear up any disinformation about it that you may have."
That instantly got the reaction the General was looking for. He held power now and it was an addictive feeling that he never got tired of. Now was the time where all his patience for the past ten years paid off.
"As I have just confirmed, Project Maxwell is a weapons program that is designed to create the next generation of weapons should we ever engage in an armed conflict or, God forbid, a war. The Project itself was based on research done by one James Maxwell and from there, our knowledge has expanded to lengths that would not have been imaginable a decade ago.
"If you will now direct your attention behind me, allow me to introduce you to a sample of just what the fruits of this project are!"
With a flourish, he stepped to a side and directed all attention towards Rex and Brett, the General's colleagues gasping and exclaiming disbelief in his words.
"What is the meaning of this?!" an angry voice demanded, putting the ball back into Septum's court, just where he wanted it to be.
"These two boys, these weapons, are the results of Project Maxwell," he proclaimed to his captive audience, sounding more and more like Xavien than he would've liked. "Both have undergone the process and have completed the training required by the Project to become the newest weapons to be used at the military's disposal. Their very presence will change the battlefield in ways we could have never imagined yesterday and our enemies will never be able to take them and use them against us for their loyalty is to us and us alone. The possibilities are virtually limitless and we will show the entire world that the Unites States is not a nation that you mess with!"
The silence that followed that proclamation was short lived as the audience suddenly roared into a cacophony of noise. No one could understand what one person was saying as each one was raising their voice to be heard over the other one. Whether they were on Septum's side or against, the General did not know and his uncertainty was beginning to show through his flustered facial features.
From a section of the audience, it began to quiet down and spread to the rest and soon a clapping sound was audible to everyone. Much to everyone's surprise, the very person who was clapping was the last one any of them would have expected, including the General.
It was Noventa.
The Admiral was slowly making his way down the steps to where the General and the two Maxwellian weapons stood, his slow clap never wavering in the slightest.
As he stood before the General, the Admiral's voice boomed, "Well done General! You have certainly outdone yourself this time."
Unsure of this unexpected reaction, Septum replied, "Thank you…sir."
"How can you support this?!" a voice suddenly demanded from the peanut gallery. "This thing is hideous! Unethical!"
"It's the initiative we need if we are to keep the United States the most powerful nation on Earth," Noventa stated coolly in voice that didn't sound like his usual self and finally Septum caught on. Xavien hadn't lied when he said he would take care of the problem that Noventa had represented. This was just too sweet for him!
However, the rest of the people in the room didn't think so. In fact, when they began the cacophonous racket again, one could easily tell what they thought about this.
They didn't like it one bit.
At all.
Noventa didn't seem too happy about this reaction, though, and he suddenly snapped, "Rex! Do something about this already!"
The boy known to Septum as Rex nodded in agreement and his eyes changed from their dark hazel to a red-orange, the very color of fire itself. One of the unfortunate men who happened to be yelling the loudest suddenly burst into flames, his yelling voice turning into a high pitched shriek before vanishing completely as he turned into a pile of ash.
The silence was deafening and Septum blinked owlishly before it suddenly hit him. The boy's power of combustion…it was the ability to cause things to explode with intense heat no matter the distance. The boy's victim had literally spontaneously combusted and it was all due to him…
Noventa spoke up again, his voice grave. "You have all decided to be against this, I presume. It's people like you who make this nation weak but not for much longer. It's time we purged the poison you insignificant insects spew once and for all!"
Turning towards Septum and giving him a nod, the General nodded and ordered to the two Maxwellians, "Clean house boys!"
The two boys nodded eagerly in understanding. Turning his eyes towards the panicking crowd, a fiery light glowed from Rex's eyes and another person burst into flames, their scream short lived. Brett on the other hand was stalking towards the nearest person, his dark blue eyes changing into an inky black. With a jerk of his hand, a knife-like blade snapped out from under the cuff of his sleeve and with a quick slice, he cut off a Naval officer's lower arm. But the boy was far from finish as he took hold of the crimson red liquid spilling from the disarmed man with tendrils of his power. Then in a rush, all the man's blood came flooding out of him and forming a large bubble of blood hovering in midair while the man himself became withered from the loss of blood and collapsed into unconscious, slipping silently into death.
Brett wasn't done quite yet though; with a casual flick of the wrist, he shot the floating ball of blood to a new victim, the liquid snaking through the air like a snake and wrapping around a nearby woman. As she screamed in fright, the blood plunged down her throat, continuously filling her up until she ripped apart and all her internal liquids joined that of the invaded blood. From there the formless pass divided into two and searched out new prey, as per intention of Brett himself.
It was needless to say that anyone who was anyone was trying to get the hell out of dodge. That escape was cut off as they soon discovered the doors that were their only escape were locked. If only they had known that the man that they all respected, Noventa, had been the one that had locked them.
That was inconsequential as they crowded around the wooden barricade, all shoving against it, trying to force them to open. In their panic, a few unfortunates were crushed by their peers as their civility vanished in favor of flight, one that was permanently put to a halt as Brett sent tentacles of bodily fluids to block off the weakening doors and kill those closest to them.
Those that weren't torn apart by or drowned in the dangerous liquids were forced into combusting into flames that were absolutely unrelenting, burning those who were too close to them.
Slowly, the volume level in the room decreased until the last gurgle of life was either drowned out of them or turned to ash. Chuckling into the quiet, Septum took a few steps closer to the carnage, his eyes lightening with glee at the sight. Actually seeing the destruction caused by the Maxwellians was completely different from just looking at results of it, such as the example of that town out in Arizona.
No, Septum was sure that this was the beginning of a new era in warfare. Wait, let him correct himself; it was the beginning of a new era of humanity!
"I hope that we were up to your satisfaction, General," Noventa spoke up, approaching the General from behind.
"More than my wildest dreams," Septum answered truthfully, turning towards the Admiral.
An uncharacteristic smirk formed on Noventa's face, soon followed by a rippled all over his body as the man began to change, his stature shrinking somewhat as he assumed a different form.
The man-now-boy shifted his weight to a muscled leg, his hands planted firmly on his hips and his smirk now matching well with his incredibly handsome features and smiling green eyes that reminded the General of 12093. Oh there were differences to be sure, that this boy was actually slimmer and slightly shorter that 12093 and his confidence with himself was through the roof.
Cracking a crooked grin, the boy said, "Good. That is what we were sent here to do after all."
"And you have exceeded all my expectations," Septum replied. "To top it all off, your performance even reeled me in. Er…you wouldn't happen to have a name, would you?"
Chuckling, the boy said, "Just call me Copy Chris."
---
"Are the preparations complete?" Xavien asked Malkov as he continued to sort through documents on his desk as Katsaris looked on.
"Yes, Mr. Xavien," Malkov intoned. "Everything is as you wished it. However, 15211 has requested to go along as well."
"15211?" Xavien said aloud, frowning slightly as he wracked his brain on who it was. "Oh, yes, that one. Hasn't he failed me already?"
"Yes he has," Malkov answered.
Xavien thought about it for a moment and then shrugged, "Why not? I guess having it go against 12093 was asking a bit too much. Besides, I doubt Romafellor will be expecting this so the more the merrier."
"As you wish, Mr. Xavien," Malkov said, leaving the office.
"What are you up to?" Katsaris demanded from where he sat, his eyes narrowing.
"Just a little surprise from our mutual thorn in the side," Xavien replied whimsically. "In fact, it's one that Romafellor himself is just dieing for."
---
The ground parted and a ball of roots and branches emerged from the soil, unraveling to reveal the three individuals on the inside, two guys and a girl to be precise.
"Now that was cool!" Solo exclaimed, looking like a child who was just given a sweet piece of candy. "If we weren't busy, I'd ask if we could do it again!"
"Maybe later," Trowa said. "It was tiring doing that. I'll need some rest first before I can do anything else."
"If I never go through that again, it'll be too soon!" Dorothy added her two cents in, looking green at the gills from the experience.
"Grow some balls, will ya?" Solo said testily, eyeing the blonde girl.
"I'm a girl; I couldn't grow any if I could!" Dorothy retorted, half-glaring at the blond. "Besides, haven't you heard that women are the fairer sex?"
"Nope," Solo replied honestly. "By da way, that's the sorriest excuse I ever heard. Fair sex? If ya can sell it, there ain't nothing fair 'bout it."
"I don't think she was talking about intercourse," Trowa butted in, his shoulders trembling with suppressed mirth.
"Just a bunch of nonsense ta me," Solo shrugged as he looked forward and paused, a look of familiarity on his face at the sight.
Only a distance away he could see the sprawling metropolis that was Los Angeles, California, the towering skyscrapers casting sinister shadows over the city, a symbol of the wealthy elite's power over the poor.
"Never thought I'd see this 'gain," he said solemnly.
"Are you saying you came from here?" Dorothy asked, looking towards the blond.
"Naw, it was some place called Seattle," Solo said, "but once ya seen one of them, you've seen all of them. Now if Trowa can figure out where Duo is in all that, I'll be able to get ta him in no time flat."
"Sorry, can't," Trowa sighed, his exhaustion palpable in his voice. "I can't…get a lock on anything in all that. There's hardly any plantlife in there as it is.
"Then we'll have ta do it the ol' fashion way," Solo said, his eyes hardening on the sight of Los Angeles.