After Colony: Revelation

Verse III

They had returned to Quatre's home on Earth. His desert mansion was rather isolated, and natural metallic compounds found in the area deterred the CSO's satellites from spying on them. Duo also benefited from this—until they had arrived back on Earth, he would not wake up. His fellow pilots had started to wonder if he was comatose until he finally woke in one of Quatre's comfortable beds.

Though they did their best to help him recover, it was a slow process. Unlike Wufei, who had managed to keep his strength in tact despite being a prisoner for months, Duo's body had weakened over time. The pilots took turns helping Duo through a makeshift physical therapy program.

Heero was forced to drop out of their rotation after just a few weeks. While he was doing some system maintenance on Wing Zero, which seemed to take updates almost every day since it automatically improved programs when it found a defect, a message had come across one of his large plasma monitors.

He didn't hesitate to open it, not since Wing Zero had allowed it through in the first place. When the transmission came across, Heero knew immediately that it was their secret ally.

A white horse's head revolved in the background while text appeared on the screen:

[To the Pilot of Wing Zero:]

[Adelphie's weapon is to be housed in his newly renovated manor within the next few weeks. Should you wish it, I can provide ample means for you and your partners to retrieve his super weapon, and take it for your own. Your mobile suits may have lasted through one battle with CSO, but it is not likely that they will last a second or third time. You can utilize Adelphie's weapon for yourselves.]

[Three Thursdays from now at 13:15, stop by the café (whose daily special will be listed outside as a hazelnut espresso) along the street of Via dei Foraggi, right in the heart of Rome. You will receive everything you need enter into Adelphie's manor.]

[If you choose not to accept my aid, then I suppose I will have to discontinue my support and leave you on your own. To help you in your decision, please think—could you have successfully rescued Duo Maxwell without me?]

[Good luck in your endeavors.]

The message ended, just as he had time to finish reading. Heero, of course, already had his instructions imbedded in his memory. It was a good thing he did, since he could not manage to make the message appear again.

"What makes you think we can trust this contact of yours," Wufei asked after Heero and Quatre entered the sitting room. It was only one of the many in the Quatre residence, but it was the one that they seemed to prefer for group meetings. There were no windows and it was close to the hidden elevator that could take them to their Gundams.

"I don't trust them, at least, not entirely. But Quatre and I are in agreement—we don't have much choice," Heero said and crossed his arms. "I will be leaving for Rome in just a few days."

Trowa frowned, his mouth in a tight, thin line. "I suppose we don't get a say in this matter?"

"Duo's fainting spells are getting much more frequent," Quatre spoke up, wringing his wrists slightly, "Heero's contact was able to give us at least a starting point in helping him before. If Heero can meet with this person, maybe they can tell us how to fix Duo again…"

"We should not rely on this person any more than we apparently already have," Wufei snapped, "We should find out when the device will be at the Adelphie residence on our own, and then storm the manor. We have our mobile suits and we can get reinforcements. We can do it our own way, as we always have."

The blonde sighed and shook his head. "There's just too much at stake here. Our forces are dwindling and though we cannot be sure if the contact was bluffing, CSO really may be able to disable our suits upon attack. Adelphie's residence is bound to be highly protected, so we need to be as discreet as possible. Not only that, but think about it – we don't really know what his weapon/computer/program actually looks like. We may not be able to identify it on our own."

That was it – the decision was made. Just as Heero had said, he was on his way to Italy just a few days later. While the meet up was still about two weeks away, the Gundam pilot was forced to travel as inconspicuously as possible. He was forced to cross the desert via truck until he could reach the sea line. From there, he took a fishing boat to southern Italy. Over the course of that five and a half day journey, Heero would send blank messages back to Quatre to check in.

Once he reached the mainland, however, Heero was forced to cut back on his already sparse communication. Security into the nation was tighter than he had expected, especially so far south. CSO soldiers were stopping every ship entering the harbor, as if they were expecting to find someone.

He had no choice but to seal up as much of his important gear (cash, cell phone, falsified IDs and documentation,) and jump ship when they neared the shoreline. He swam to a nearby dock and waited out the CSO search until the following morning, when he was dry. Somewhat reluctantly, Heero smashed up his cell phone, just in case. If they were tracking him, he couldn't be too careful.

After he was safely out of Soverato, Heero was able to hop a ride with someone wearing the discreet badge of the rebels—a white feather patch on the left shoulder—up to Potenza, where he decided to wait out a day before traveling further. His original plan was to stick to the coast line, but the pilot felt it necessary to deviate from his initial course.

Heero worked on studying the areas with a military presence before he decided to steal a beat up silver car from outside of bar. The driver wasn't likely to notice it missing for a few hours, which would put him far enough away that he could ditch it and grab another before morning. He did exactly that without any problems. With three days until his rendezvous with his contact, he bussed into Rome.

Though it might have been risky with the extra military personnel patrolling the street, Heero wanted for an opportunity to scout out his meet up point. The only annoyance with his idea was that he wouldn't know which café had a special of hazelnut espresso on Thursday unless he asked. He certainly did not want to draw attention to himself by doing any inquiring.

There were three cafés on the street that had chalkboards outside reading a daily special. He scoped out the first two in one day, going to one in the morning and buying an obligatory coffee and the other at night to buy a tea. Both little shops made him very uneasy. Heero did not like the amount of people crammed into the small spaces with only one visible exit in each, besides the door behind the serving counters. He sat for a good forty five minutes in each, finding that at all times, people were coming in and out of the door. He would have to keep on intense alert if he were in one of these shops.

He remained outside of them, on the street, for periods of time, trying to see if there were any 'off' hours in the cafés. There was no such luck. They were quite busy all day long.

The following day, the day before his meet up, Heero went to the only other candidate. He preferred it to the others instantly.

Compared to the other two, it was almost considered dumpy. Their selection wasn't as vast as the other two, and their machines appeared to be dated. It had a quiet, homely atmosphere. Most notable, this one did not have a WiFi connection, which probably led to the lack of foot traffic. There was also a door that apparently led up to a roof top patio that was currently closed.

At least if he needed a quick getaway, he could break through the door and escape via rooftop.

Heero returned to his cheap motel room after his scouting. As tempting as it might have been to stay out and explore the city while he had the time, he did not want to risk anyone recognizing him, however slim the chance. He remained in for the rest of the night, reading the papers and munching on a sandwich he picked up on his way in.

The next morning, it was raining. On the downside, sometimes water and mud made it easier to track him in the event of a chase, but on the bright side, the number of people with umbrellas and hoods would make it easier to disappear in the crowd. Heero pulled on his clothes, clothes that were gratefully donated to him by the rebel who gave him a lift, and left the room for good. He would not return one way or another.

At 12:55, Heero was walking down the street, looking for the signs that read the daily specials. Unfortunately, because of the rain, most were propped up in the window. He had to search out the signs before he found the correct shop.

It was the third café he had visited.

Upon entering, the pilot glanced over everyone in the room. There wasn't anyone who particularly looked interesting. No one displayed the signs of a solider, which was what he had honestly been expecting. In fact, except for the teenager working the counter, no one even looked up at him. Heero crossed the floor and ordered the daily special.

When he sat down, opening the newspaper in front of him to make his presence casual, it was 13:05.

After sitting quietly for eleven minutes, Heero was ready to leave. He could not explain it, but he simply had a bad feeling. Something was going to happen, and he surely wasn't going to like it.

The power cut in the café as thunder rolled overhead. The remaining customers murmured amongst themselves before they started to stand and leave the building. The barista called out to everyone, speaking in Italian of course, stating that the power outage sometimes happened and it would be back up and running shortly. The customers did not seem interested in staying.

Heero stood as well to leave, believing his contact would not show up with an empty café, when he noticed that one of the patrons was going out of her way to get to his table. He tensed as she reached into her half unzipped hoodie. He believed she would pull out a weapon, but instead, she pulled out a manila folder.

It was a young woman in brown with jeans that were soaked up the back of her legs, to her knees, from dragging a bit in the puddles. She was on the shorter side and petite, and she avoided eye contact with Heero. She set down the folder and hunched over as she pulled out a pen.

Don't go out the front door.

She capped the pen and stood. Heero managed to catch her gaze, but had to keep himself from flinching. Her green eyes looked… lifeless.

The young woman put her hands in her hoodie pockets and rejoined the crowd.

Heero scooped up the folder and went straight to the patio door. Despite it reading 'Closed,' the door was unlocked. He ran up the damp stairs and pushed open a damaged, second door, entering onto the rooftop patio. He could here yelling from down below, yelling that sounded like orders. He didn't need to look over the railing to know that soldiers were waiting to storm the building.

Tucking the folder into his own jacket, the pilot got a running start before jumping over onto the next roof. No one seemed to have noticed him, thankfully, and he continued to cross that roof as well. After hopping over two more buildings (and nearly falling off of one due to the slick flat top), Heero found an emergency exit to climb down.

"Too close," he muttered to himself as he left the alleyway and fell into the crowd. He would have get out of the city as fast as possible and head north to Florence, where he would meet with the others. If there was a plan to get into Adelphie's manor, they had to actually be close to it to pull it off.

000

Since Heero had gone to the information drop off site, they all agreed that it would be less risky to send someone else in to scout out the manor. Duo was still out of the running to do any work, since he had become rather… narcoleptic, falling asleep at any given time, despite whatever task he had been doing. Wufei, also, could not be given any jobs that might have him spotted by CSO—the fact that he had spent a few months as a prisoner with frequent interactions amongst the soldiers also meant that he had a higher chance of being recognized than almost anyone else. It left Quatre or Trowa for the job.

Trowa offered himself up.

As per their contact's plans, he was now peering out at the manor, past the rim of his baseball hat.

The caterers had to come by a day early to set mass amounts of tables in the humongous ballroom, as well as lawn tents that reminded him of the circus. With the mocked up security badge that was supplied to them in the manila folder, all the pilots had to do was add a photo and he was able to walk right into the manor. Because of all of the new faces that were brought in to help the catering company, no one, not even his supposed employers, questioned him.

Trowa was up on a ladder, helping to build the frame of the tent, which was basically second nature to him, and scouting out the area. There was a body of water next to the manor—either a very large pond or a very small lake—and he could see a very familiar blinking occasionally come through the water. CSO's metallic grey Pisces were probably beneath the lake, with Seals around the building and in the forest. He didn't need to see it to know that the CSO's dolls were watching the house and waiting to put an end to anything that moved without clearance.

Soldiers were at every door and circled the perimeter.

The house, Trowa knew, was basically state of the art. It had the most intricate security design—one that could compete with most military bases he had seen. It took after the former Earth-Sphere president's residence in that it could be locked down and lowered—then no one could get in or out, except through some secret route that only Adelphie knew about.

Duo had made a comment saying that he wouldn't want to get stuck down there during a zombie outbreak. Then he proceeded to contemplate who would win—them in their Gundams or the zombies? Duo fell asleep before he could give his opinion as to who would come out as the victor.

They all agreed that the zombies would win while he was asleep.

Anyhow…

Trowa reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out what looked like an iPod. It was a thermal detector. Yes – there was an app for that. He inconspicuously held it up as though he were picking a song and took some snapshots of the manor—specifically, the tower. From what he could see, there was no one in it. It was a security room with enough computers and like technology to run a country's stock market. It made sense that the software they were after would be there, but why only at midnight? He still believed it was a trap.

Trowa stared to climb down the ladder, putting the fake iPod away. Whenever he reached the bottom, however, he was slightly, ever so slightly, caught off guard. He touched the ground and turned to face the other way, his eyes locking with a set of dead looking green and blue eyes. He recognized them—he could not forget them.

It was the female who had apparently been sent to stop him and Quatre from rescuing Wufei. Trowa tensed up, wondering if he should be preparing to fight the robotic-like woman. After a moment¸ she turned and walked away at a brisk pace.

She had to have remembered him. He needed to escape, and fast.

"Hey, you," a voice called out to the Heavy Arms pilot from his other side, "stay there."

A guy, probably just a few years older than Trowa, walked towards him – all soldiers and hired help clearing a path for him. He had dark brown, maybe black hair, spiked in different directions, slightly tanned skin with tattoos covering his arms (one marking being the Japanese character for death, despite the fact that he was Caucasian,) and numerous piercings in his ears. Trowa did not know who this approaching guy was, but it was clear that causing trouble with him was not a wise decision.

"Yes…sir?" Baron commented, trying to remain in the character of an ignorant caterer worker.

"What's that in your pocket?" The guy nodded towards the hand that was in Trowa's pocket and stopped only a few feet away.

"My iPod."

"Looked more like an iPhone." He had a good eye. It was thicker than just the iTouch and had the camera of a phone. "All phones were to be left at the entrance gate, same as any cameras."

"I know. I left my phone at the gate like everyone else," Trowa stated, trying to find a way to get away from this guy whom apparently everyone else found intimidating.

"Let me see your ID," he demanded and put his hand out. Reluctantly, Trowa reached into his back pocket, pulling out the fake card. The pilot handed it over. "Dave King… I don't remember seeing your name on the background check registrar." He pulled out his phone and started to dial a number. Trowa remained calm, though it wasn't easy. He was about ready to snatch the phone from the tattooed hand and break it when—

"Vi—ince," a young lady's voice called out in a sing-song sort of way, "there you are! When did you get back?" It was a blonde who looked like she was probably Duo or Quatre's age. She practically skipped to the guy who was in the process of calling someone to check Trowa's background. She wrapped her arms around one of his, hanging on him.

"Isabella," the man named Vince growled, "you're being annoying."

"Well, I'll be sure to tell my daddy you said so," she replied brightly, "Moira was looking for you earlier. You should probably find her. You know how angry she gets at you when you avoid her." The blonde looked at Vince and smiled. "She's sometimes worse than my father…" He groaned and hung up his phone. He tossed Trowa's fake ID back at him, stomping away and muttering to himself. The blonde remained, smiling at Trowa.

Her smile was almost as unnerving as the other young woman's emotionless eyes.

"Thank you," Trowa started after a moment, "he wanted to take my iPod. I don't like setting up without music."

"Of course, Mr. King," Isabella replied and hooked her thumbs into her belt loops, "you need to be more careful. There's always someone watching here. You got lucky, this time." She twirled around and walked away in the same direction as Vince. Trowa followed her with his eyes, watching how she met up with the girl who he thought would report him.

He guessed she did report him—she reported him to this Isabella girl, who proceeded to eliminate the cause of Trowa's possible problem.

Was this their contact?

He didn't want to stick around to find out, fearing the consequences he may face if he were to be wrong. Trowa left when the first shift of hired help left for the day.

Returning to the flat that Quatre had rented out in a fake name (for nothing about their lives seemed to be real,) Heero, Wufei, and of course, Quatre were all waiting on him to hear his report. "How did it go?" Sandrock's pilot asked eagerly, pouring a cup of tea for his very close friend. "Was there any trouble?

Trowa dropped into the chair across from the blonde male and passed off the iPod-like device, accepting the tea. "I think I was nearly caught. Some guy named Vince. He wasn't dressed like a soldier but he must work for Adelphie. Everyone stayed away from him. A blonde girl named Isabella distracted him long enough to get him to leave. Does Adelphie have another daughter? She spoke about Moira and her father, so—"

Wufei, who had been leaning against the wall, looking out through the window, stood straight and answered. "Yes, he does. Isabella Vespasian Valentinian. I saw her while I was still held captive. She showed up once—looking friendly with the girl who was outside of my cell, waiting for you when you arrived. I believe she was called Edan."

"That's what? Her first name or last?" Heero asked and took the iPod from Quatre. Wufei shrugged.

"Not a clue. They announced only the one name during the single match we had. They announced my full name," the Chinese male added to show the oddity of the situation.

"I cannot be sure but I think this Edan woman saw me, recognized me right away from the attack, and went to tell Isabella. I'm starting to wonder if they are our contacts," Trowa explained his idea. There was silence as they all waited on Wufei's response, since he was sure to have one.

He did not disappoint.

"What? Those women? Absolutely not. The one is a mindless zombie and the other is the spoiled brat of our enemy. They have no reason to want to help us—unless of course it's a trap," he snapped and crossed his arms, refusing to believe that it was possible. Heero furrowed his brows and turned to Wufei.

"A mindless zombie?

"Yes, a mindless zombie."

Quatre shook his head, "Heero, what I think he means is that she's… not normal. When we encountered her, she showed no emotion while she was attacking. She did not seem to register any pain, and did things that should be beyond human limitations—"

"Sounds like someone else we know," Trowa mumbled. Heero just stared at him. "My point exactly."

"—and at one point, she just stopped and stood at attention, as if waiting for orders from some… disembodied voice."

"Her eyes," Heero started, ignoring the rest of them, "were they green eyes and looked—"

"Dead?" All three of the other pilots responded at once.

"I saw her. She was the one who delivered all of the plans to me while I was in Rome. I encountered Isabella while rescuing Duo. She gave me access to his medical room without question and bypassed the security on the door without any problem. She must be White Horse." Once again, silence filled the room as everyone thought over the words of Wing Zero's pilot.

"It must be a trap," Quatre sighed and placed his china tea cup onto the wooden table in front of the couch, on which he currently sat. "Why else would she deliberately betray her father?"

"She doesn't use his last name. I'll see what I can find on who I would assume was her mother," the tallest of the young man stood once more and started to head back towards his room. He halted just before disappearing out of sight, "Quatre—not everyone has compassion for their family. Especially when their family does terrible things."

000

Author's Notes: it is unlikely that I will continue to update every day. However, since there has been such a large gap between my first post and the second, I will put a few up, hopefully to generate some interest.

There will be some character death throughout the story. I will say that outright. This story can be seen as operating in "arcs." Readers will notice where the storyline starts to shift into different directions. This is very much in the same taste as the anime—villains change, people switch sides, goals that were once important seem useless after a while. Relationships become very important (I don't necessarily mean romantically. But friendships help to influence the outcome of certain situations.)

I am very interested in heading the opinions of the readers—what you feel works, and what doesn't. What do you like, and do you hate? There will be any explicit slash, though some relationships are implied.

Thanks for reading!

A.F