After Colony: Revelation
Verse V
It was a three day, non-stop trip to reach Quatre's residence out in the desert. They escaped by boat and then crossed into the Middle East with the help of some Maganac soldiers. By the time they got in, everyone was about ready for bed, considering it was almost four in the morning.
Well, almost everyone was aching for a bed at least. When a few maids and man-servants rushed forward to help the pilots get situated, Isabella had no problem making herself at home by demanding a pot of very strong coffee.
"Uh, Miss Isabella," Quatre started, a tired, semi-forced smile on his face, "don't you think it's a bit late for coffee? Wouldn't you rather just rest? You couldn't have slept more than a total of fifteen hours over the past three days…"
"That's plenty for me, Besides," she said and pulled at her fingers to stretch them out, "don't you want me to help Duo Maxwell? I need to connect with him as soon as possible to shut down as much CSO control as I can. He won't be able to live his whole life without going in range of a satellite, you know."
"I'll take you to him," Heero stated and started to walk away.
"Alright then. I'll need my coffee and a change of clothes. Men's are fine." She followed after the young Japanese man.
"Can we trust her?" The master of the house asked as Wufei went his separate way, leaving him with Trowa. Not that Quatre really minded.
"What choice have we?"
Heero turned on the light, giving both he and Isabella a view of the pilot who could not go on the retrieval mission with them. The self-proclaimed God of Death was lying on his side, breathing steadily. He didn't even notice when the lights were turned on. "When we left him, he would fall asleep in the middle of sentences, and then wouldn't wake for a few hours."
"His stages weren't finished, so I'm sure the chips are basically overloading and shutting down, putting him to sleep until they restart. I should be able to eliminate those problems easily. I have to create some new commands to make sure he'll be able to bypass anything CSO tries to make him do on his own," she said and looked around, clearing off a table to put her laptop on. She placed both of her hands beneath the wooden top and dragged it across the wooden floor to Duo's bedside. "Clothes, please."
Heero had no intention of leaving her alone in the room, so he did not respond to her. She did not press the issue as she continued about the room, setting up her makeshift work shop. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" asked Wing Zero's pilot.
Isabella stopped her work and rolled her head to look at him. "Believe it or not, I have a genius level intelligence. I've been cracking encryptions since I was seven and creating my own since I was eight. I developed most of the systems that CSO runs off of while I was getting kicked out of Relena Peacecraft's girls' academy at the age of fourteen. While I didn't develop the chips for the Red Horse project, I did for the Green, and, unknowingly, for the Black Horse project. Most of the work in Maxwell's head belongs to me. The difficulty is just shutting down the stuff that won't affect his normal operations," the blonde explained, not hiding her annoyance with Heero. "I don't want to work in my filthy dress."
"You know Relena? How do you access the chips you're talking about?" He sat on a bench at the window sill, crossing his arms and watching her intently.
"Yes, very well. She just loves me," she answered sarcastically, "and there is a connection now drilled into his skull that plugs directly into the primary chip. It's a very painful process, but it's the only way for me to get into the very basic functions. The wireless has not been fully enabled yet, and hopefully won't ever be."
"Miss Isabella," Quatre interrupted, coming into the room while carrying a pile of neatly folded clothing, "I'm sorry, I don't have any women's clothing in the house beside those which belong to the maids, and I feel that those would be inappropriate for a lady of your birth." He looked around for a place to set the variety down, settling for the dresser. "Take whatever you need. I'll send the coffee up when it is ready."
Isabella stepped passed the blonde male, who was really only about her height, and to the clothing stack. She found a small tee shirt, which probably belonged to Quatre in his younger years, and a pair of athletic shorts. She wasted no time sliding the pair of shorts on beneath her dress and turning to the blonde male to have him undo the back of her dress. He shifted uncomfortably and raised his hands, unable to bring himself to undo the lady's dress. He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Ah… well…"
Luckily, his companion entered into the room just in time for his rescue. Trowa motioned for Quatre to step back, and he moved forward to unlace the dress—working so long in the circus had rid him of any shyness he may have had around women. That didn't necessarily mean that he liked them, however. She turned slightly so that she was facing away from all three males in the room, pulling the tee shirt over her head. She slid the dress down and off, tossing it in a crumpled pile in the corner of the large room. Throwing her blonde hair up into a high, messy pony tail, she sighed.
"Now, down to business." She pulled up a cushioned chair to the table and sat down, "I can't make you leave but you cannot interfere with my work. I also can't be answering questions—it will only distract me. I promise though that I will sit through a full inquiry afterwards, when we're all rested up. Okay?"
The men looked at each other and nodded.
She cracked her knuckles and rubbed her fingers a bit, as if warming them up for the tasks that they would soon be performing. Exhaling, Isabella started up numerous programs at once. Her laptop was custom made, one that she had built after two previous attempts had melted down on her at the end of almost a thousand hours. That just wasn't good enough for her. This one was much more durable.
She had more things plugged in than a normal computer could hold—touch pads, keyboards with extra symbols, different drives… she had truly brought her work station with her. Lastly, she inserted a CD into her drive, holding it very carefully, as if it would break into a billion pieces at any moment. "Project Black Horse: open," she said into a head piece that they had not noticed she had put on. The pilots assumed that it was hooked onto her ear like most, a menacing looking point lined up with her left eye and a microphone-like piece near her mouth. "View: current status."
"Who is she talking to?" Quatre whispered up to Barton, who shrugged in response.
"My computer," she stated, "now—shh." Isabella started typing away. Heero dared to walk around and looked at the screen.
"That's impossible to work with," he said, "it's utter nonsense, even in computer language. I don't recognize it at all."
"I developed it only a few years ago. Stop looking over my shoulder or leave!" He complied and went back to his seat by the window. "Okay, there's some good news and some bad. I can cut off CSO's control, but if I do that, he may have to relearn some basic functions, and I can't tell you what those will be. Also, I'll probably have to update the neurochips periodically for the rest of his life to make sure his brain can function normally and smoothly, as if it were never toyed with."
"But—"
"No questions!" She snapped again and the blonde male who has spoken fell silent once more. "It's going to take a few hours. Some of you should really sleep. I'm going to put some music on, so talking to me will be useless." As Isabella reached down to her canvas bag and rummaged around, there was a knock at the door. Quatre opened it and allowed a maid to come in, bringing in a silver tray with a few coffee pots, cups, sweetener, and anything someone could possibly want with their coffee. Isabella jumped up quickly, music player now in hand, and smiled brightly. "Just the scent invigorates me!" Pouring what would be the first of many cups of coffee, she added only a bit of sweetener, blew on the hot liquid to cool it down, though it was really futile, and took a deep gulp. And then another. And then another. She filled her cup up again, returning to her seat after.
The three pilots were slightly disgusted by the way she practically inhaled her black coffee.
"Let's go," Trowa urged Quatre, "Heero will stay. We'll just be watching something we can't see." The two disappeared while she put both ear buds in and turned on her music.
Neither the pilot nor the hacker spoke again until just after sun up. "Terminate orders," she said abruptly, typing away, "repeat: terminate orders." CSO's communication satellite was working beyond its normal capabilities to search out the pilots and Isabella. Duo sat up sharply and then stood. He looked at her through half open eyes and took a few steps forward, waking Heero from his dozing slumber.
"Duo?"
"No, he's under CSO control, they just tapped into him," Isabella responded, trying her best to shut him down without harming him. The braided pilot grabbed her and she struggled with him. Heero immediately grabbed him from behind. With her free hand and verbal commands, she knocked him out, but not before he could reach her head piece. She let out a horrifying scream as he pulled it out. As he fell, so did the piece, now covered in blood. She cradled the side of her head, trying not to cry while Heero set Duo back into the bed.
"What's wrong?"
"I need a towel or something, fast," she replied, her voice cracking, "and maybe some heavy pain killers." Wing Zero's pilot grabbed a tea towel and handed it to her. He watched as she placed it to the side of her head, wiping away some blood that now stained her platinum blonde hair. Where had it come from? She went back into her bag and pulled out a small mirror, holding it at a certain angle to see a spot just below her ear.
"What is—" he furrowed his brows. She had a small, circular area in her damned head, and that was where the head piece had been. "What are you?"
"I'm a human being, okay?" She snapped, brushing away tears that had managed to escape before gingerly cleaning the area. "I've also undergone neuro procedures, but not as much as the others. Mine is not for control or anything. It gives me direct connection into computer systems, since the brain is nothing more than the most sophisticated computer ever created. We can't replicate the brain power in a computer form, so CSO decided to find a way to put the mind into a computer. It's how I access networks and why I can break into practically anything, including the brains of projects Red, Black, and Green Horse."
"Were you… made for this?" Heero asked, more out of curiosity than anything.
"I… yes, I was. I have a mother and a father, but I was not… birthed," Isabella responded, breathing deeply. She looked at the head piece and frowned. "My father had my mother killed when she refused to give me up to him custody for his projects. I had shown a very high intelligence from a young age, so I was the perfect choice. I'm going to have to reverse this for the time being. I can't plug in for now, so he'll have to." She nodded to Duo, changing the subject.
"Your own father put you up for such a thing?" Heero asked, more of a comment than anything. Suddenly, he was rather glad that he did not know who his parents were. He wouldn't have every wanted to know his parents if they were, well, psychotic like Adelphie appeared to be.
"Yes, well," she sighed and tossed the towel down onto the table, "I'm not the only daughter of someone who volunteered her for the projects. I'm just the lucky one. More later. I need to finish resetting him before CSO restarts his chips." Isabella stood and went to Duo's side, carefully searching for a similar connector also in his skull. She found it and went back to her table to get a cord from a box—one that Heero knew had been pulled from a locked cabinet in the tower. It had a sharp end, and, as much as he wanted to reach out and stop her, it took a brief moment for her to hook Duo up and connect the other end to her laptop. She frowned and shook her head. "This just got quite a bit harder…"
For two more hours, she did not stop work. She went through more coffee than Heero would have ever thought humanly possible, and went through a number of procedures, most of which he did not recognize. No wonder it had been so difficult for them to try to hack into CSO's systems. They had been designed using a completely new, sophisticated form. Finally, she sat back and stretched. "We should be good. He'll stop falling asleep, and unless he gets too close to the subject of Green Horse, Vince DeBordaris, CSO won't tap into him. Let him rest up and everything restart. We'll have to see what, if any, basic functions have to be re-taught."
"Hn."
"Right… so why don't you find out where I can shower and sleep, and then we'll talk after?" Isabella started closing down all of her things and packing up. She had no intention of leaving her precious laptop within reach of the curious Gundam pilots, who would most definitely go snooping around if they had the chance. Heero left and searched out a maid, who told him that a room had already been set up on the eastern side of the estate. It was on the second floor and its door was already open. He went back, grabbed the blonde young woman, and marched her down the hallways until they reached her room.
"You're going to be locked in. We'll get you after we're ready to deal with you," he stated as he let her go into the room. He was not to be argued with.
"Whatever, I'll sleep until then." She shut the door, listening as he did, in fact, lock her in. Heero, afterwards, went to his own room to sleep off the stress of their now accomplished mission.
By two in the afternoon everyone was sitting in Quatre's library, staring at the now brightly smiling Duo as he gulped down all of the tea sandwiches a maid had brought out for them. "I tell ya," he said between gulps, "food hasn't tasted his damned good in almost a freaking year, I swear."
"One of the first things they did to you was to start to inhibit your enjoyment. The food tastes exactly the same, but now your mind can register how much you actually like the taste. Before, it was just nourishment, stuff for survival, not something you could really like," explained Isabella, who sat cross legged in a cushioned leather chair, sipping on a cup of coffee.
"Gotcha. What are you, a scientist?" Death Scythe's pilot asked, waving about a half-eaten ham and pear sandwich. She shook her head and was going to answer when Wufei spoke up instead.
"She's Adelphie's daughter," he said, his expression dark. "We're housing the child of the man who captured us and toyed with us. We should kill her, or use her to our advantage, not take care of her." Everyone turned to Duo, whose cheerfulness had faded.
"You left voluntarily, right?" he asked her, and she nodded, "I guess that makes you either a spy or a rebel. I can understand the spy angle, but what's the rebel one? Why would you leave the comfort of your luxury home? The protection of your father? Risking everything to help us? This isn't a game you know." Duo resumed eating, watching her intently. Now she was the one whose smile had faded. She didn't answer.
"You said your father killed your mother," Heero stated after no one said anything. "Trinity Orestes Vespasian Valentinian was in the business of arms dealing, but she did it under the cover of military research, correct? So they created you, sealing their undocumented negotiations, because neither wanted the other as a competitor. Your mother wouldn't hand you over though, because she was supposed to use you as her subject, not because she actually loved you and wanted to protect you." It was a mouthful for the normally silent pilot. Quatre jumped up, appalled by what he had just said.
Isabella raised her hand and shook her head. "He's right," she sighed. "You've done your research, Mr. Yuy. She was supposed to handle project White Horse while my father did the other three. He decided that he didn't want her involved because he didn't want her to have any claim over me or the projects, and with no claim she would thus have no right to actually use any of the projects. She was ruthless, just as my father still is. They fought it out in a nasty way, trying to ruin each other for some time. It took three assassination attempts before he was able to get a semi-truck to intentionally hit her car, killing both her and her driver. I became his and his alone. Of course, being the very bright child I was, I went along with everything, and kept the control chip from being implanted, unlike Red and Black Horse subjects."
"So you're here because…"
"I want to help you," the blonde answered simply, "plus, it will be a new challenge. I like challenges."
The silence befell the room once more, and Duo was once again munching on his food. Heero watched the young woman, and how her eyes showed that she was lost somewhere else, deep in her thoughts. She would occasionally glance up, take in her surroundings and the people within it, absorbing every detail of the large library with large windows flooding the room with desert light. Heero recognized the way she made a note of each of them and the way they interacted with each other, as if she were studying them. However, it was not so much the way a spy would learn every detail, but like a researcher. He could reason that Isabella, with all of the privileges and riches she was born with, had lived a rather lonely and reserved life when it came to people. Much like themselves.
"So, what now?" The twenty-five year old Heavy Arms pilot asked, placing a hand on Quatre's chair top.
"I reconfigure your systems. I'm guessing you're going to want to go to the Lunar-2m base to spring Milliardo Peacecraft, aka Zechs Marquise, and Lucrezia Noin, am I right? They've been held there for a few months now, and I'm sure they'll be of help if you want a full on revolution," Isabella replied and stood, her bare feet touching the cool wood floor. "I will just change into the pair of jeans you gave me, grab my laptop, and be ready to spend the rest of the day hard at work helping you guys."
And so she did.
"What do you think of her?" Duo asked, walking up, juggling an apple back and forth between his hands. Heero didn't even turn to glance at him. They were in the underground hanger where not only their Gundams were stored, but some of the Maganac Corp's suits as well.
"Don't trust her," Heero grunted in response.
"Yeah, didn't think you would, but hey," he said, biting into the juicy red apple, "she helped me out. Feel better than I have in seriously long time. Plus, she's cute." The braided young man walked past the perfect soldier, patting him on his shoulder as he did so. Duo was off to flirt with one of the few women he had even seen in the last few months.
The hanger echoes as Duo called out to the young woman who was working on Sandrock. Heero walked away, leaving the two to chat. He had another woman in mind at the moment, one who could be much more useful to him.
It was not Relena, though he had thought about calling her to inquire more about their temporary housemate. He had decided against it since it was very likely that CSO was monitoring her, expecting some form of contact from either him or another pilot.
He traveled up the industrial elevator, heading back up to the main house. It only took a few seconds for the machine to screech to a halt and open its doors. He had to physically open the grates that were locked when it was not in use himself. The elevator doors were hiding behind a huge tapestry; it was red fabric bearing the Winner's crest, reaching from the ceiling to the floor.
The hallways of Quatre's residence were always so bare—not of decorations of anything, but of people. He kept only a few members of hired help on his staff, most of who were affiliated with the Maganac. Unless Rashid or other men of the corps were stopping by for some reason, the hallways barely saw any action. Heero turned a corner and went freely into the master of the house's office. The door was open, signaling that it was acceptable to enter. Quatre was on the phone, speaking in Italian to whoever was on the other line. He raised his hand and Heero nodded. Silently, the Wing Zero pilot sat across from Quatre in a perfectly carved wooden chair.
"Mm, si, si, ciao," he said as he hung up the phone and smiled at Heero from across his desk, lacing his fingers together in front of him. "What can I do for you?" Quatre, on top of fighting as a rebel and working to defeat CSO's technology, also had to run the Winner's family business. His multitasking was amazing. However, when he was behind his desk, the blonde was in full business mode.
"Any word on the aftermath of our rescue?"
"Yes, actually, that was what I was just speaking about. A friend of mine just informed me that the entire country is going crazy. There has been a nationwide alert issued for all of us, as well as Miss Isabella. However…" Quatre trailed on, looking slightly smug.
"What?"
"Well, they can only describe us. There are no images of us on file, our previous persons of interest files were mysteriously deleted, and all security footage has been corrupted. They know what Isabella looks like, but she could be mistaken for millions of other blonde hair, blue eyed girls. We're in the clear for the time being," said Quatre. Heero barely blinked.
"Isabella. She's a liability. We need to get rid of her as soon as she finishes with our suits."
A cold stillness settled into the room, and Quatre's smile fell. "I knew you would say something like that, of course. But what about Duo? What if something goes wrong? We won't be able to do anything about it."
Heero shrugged. "I think she's bluffing. To make sure she keeps her usefulness. She said she's smart—I believe it. She knows we'll get rid of her when she's no longer worth the trouble."
"I know, I know," Quatre sighed, "just… let's not rush into anything. Once you kill her, that's it, she won't be back to help us if we need her."
000
"Yes, thank you very much," Trowa said and took a brown bag filled with clothes from the woman behind the countertop. At first, when he walked into the women's clothing store, everyone had looked at him strangely. What did he care, though? He didn't, not one bit. But when one woman refused to help him, he came up with a quick story. He said that his younger sister had flown in to visit him, but her luggage was lost on the way, and needed new clothes. They believed him.
Sadly, the clothing choices weren't exactly fashionable. They were mostly Middle Eastern garb that were worn by the local women in the town, which was about an hour's drive away from Quatre's estate. Other than that, it was made up of more militaristic clothing targeting a slim market consisting of women fighting as rebels in the area. He bought a mixture of both, just in case.
Wufei had also come into town with Trowa. It had been a quiet ride.
Trowa walked into a slightly dingy pub and immediately spotted the Wufei, who stuck out pretty badly, considering the scenery. He was sitting with Rashid, both speaking in hushed tones. When he joined their table, neither gave him more than a glance. "—but yes, I managed to dig up just a little bit on her. There isn't much available, my guess is that most of it is classified information. Even some of the CSO agents we… questioned… only knew of her by name."
"Who are we talking about?" Trowa asked and waved to the barmaid to bring him a drink. Anything at this point would do. "Isabella?" Wufei frowned and Rashid shook his head.
"No. The young woman known as Edan," the bulky Arab answered.
"Ah, her."
"When I had my match with her," Wufei said, "all of the soldiers around seemed to recognize her and her style—that is, they noticed that she fought with her right hand, but switched to her left. I therefore assumed that many if not all soldiers knew who she was. That does not seem to be the case." Wufei actually had a drink in front of him, Trowa noticed. He must have been thoroughly aggravated with the situation. He drank the least out of all of them (Quatre aside, for religious reasons.) He did not like feeling like he was not in control, however slight it may have been.
"No one knows her first name," answered Rashid, who gulped down his drink, "some know her as Edan, which we assume is her last name, but most know her only as War, she has no rank—"
"That's strange," Trowa commented, "since at the party she wore an outfit for a ranking soldier—possibly even a Colonel."
"—and she's been involved with CSO for at least ten years."
Wufei and Trowa both opened their mouths to speak, but then closed them, a slightly confused expression on their features.
"She couldn't have been more than—"
"—maybe twenty two or twenty three," Wufei finished for Trowa.
Rashid shrugged. "That's just what I heard. No one knows much. Best person to ask is that Isabella. People said that they're known to be friends. Now," he said and put down money to pay for all three of their drinks, even though his was little more than some non-alcoholic desert concoction. "I've got to take my leave. A shipment of suit parts should be coming in, and I've got to receive them. I'm sure I'll be seeing you again soon." Rashid stood, bowed slightly, and then left, leaving the two young men to their thoughts, and, of course, their drinks.
"Do you want to ask our guest about—"
"—the mindless zombie?"
"Yeah," Trowa said, "her."
"Not one bit." Wufei raised his glass to his mouth and gazed intently at the slight crease in the paper money that Rashid had left behind.
"I think I will also pass on that."
000
"Lady Une, yes, no, yes, tell her it's a family emergency. She'll accept. No, I'm not lying. It really is an emergency. Her nephew. Of course she has siblings. Yes, a brother. He's dead. Now get her on the phone," Heero demanded and hit his head off of the back of Quatre's chair. It was always such a pain trying to get in touch with diplomats. Une's secretary just refused to connect him. Finally, he was put on hold.
"Une," a female voice answered with a sigh.
"It's Yuy," he responded.
"Oh! What a surprise. How are you? I heard you crashed Prime Minister Adelphie's house warming party," she said with amusement, even a slight giggle.
"Fine. Yeah, we did. Everyone knows?"
"Well, no," she sighed again, but this time, with a happier tone, "they have no proof, but all of us who know you—well, we had no doubt, the moment it happened, we knew. Relena was very unhappy though. She's angry that you haven't contacted her for some time…"
"Hn," he responded, and though he couldn't see it, she rolled her eyes at him. "And what about his daughter?"
"Isabella? Everyone's in a total uproar over her. He says you kidnapped her. That's not true, right?" Lady Une asked, actually concerned that he did
"Of course not."
"Oh, that's good because I really thought—"
"She came with us by choice," he said.
She shrieked in response."What?! How could you let her go with you?! Adelphie will hunt you down! And if you survive, Relena will murder you herself!" Lady Une shouted, and he could hear her slam her hand on what was probably her desk.
"I know, Relena doesn't like her—"
"That's an understatement," muttered the woman, "Relena, if she could hate anyone, it would probably be Isabella Vespasian Valentinian. She was a thirteen year old genius who caused more trouble than she was worth at the Sanc Kingdom, what with her pranks and ever changing grades…and now, her father is holding Relena's brother and potential sister-in-law captive! You, surely, can see why this will lead to bad places, don't you?"
"Sounds almost like Duo…right now, Une, there's not much I can do. We need her help getting past CSO's viruses, so I can't get rid of her just yet. As soon as we're operational, the first thing we'll do is get Zechs and Noin. You can tell her that, but don't tell her about Isabella," Heero said, showing that he was about done with their conversation.
"I understand," Une replied, "good luck to you–all of you."
"We'll be in touch." They disconnected and Heero sat, taking a few moments to gather his thoughts. What should they do? What was the best course of action?
First and foremost, they had to retrieve Zechs and Noin. Those two would surely come for them if they had the means. Maybe they should get in touch with Sally Po… he would think about that at some point. For now, he had to give Quatre back his spacious office and secured telephone line.
000
"So," Duo said from the cockpit of Deathscythe. He was helping the blonde debug and reconfigure the Gundam systems. "I realize that you're Adelphie's daughter and all, but how did you get into, well, you know, all of this." He waved his hand about to all of the Gundam parts and computer equipment.
She shrugged. "I told you, my father chose me for his experiments when I showed such high intellect."
"Yeah, but you did so, willingly," he said, raising a brow.
She paused for a moment, her shoulders dropping and gazing off to the side, as if remembering something she'd rather not. "When Edan resisted, they took away her humanity. When that happens, you have no control over your own body, no way to stop yourself when your conscious is telling you no, don't do it. I didn't want that to happen to me, so I did what I was told, planning my escape without anyone's knowledge," Isabella sighed.
Duo let all of the information sink in before he nodded in understanding. "Okay, I guess that makes sense… would that have happened to me?" He touched the side of his head, grazing over the implant that slightly protruded from his skull.
"You're one chip away from being almost completely under their control. Aren't you glad I helped break you free and set your escape suit to autopilot so you'd get back safely? I've risked so much to help you." She was quite sure that if she was ever caught, they would put her back under the knife to implant a control chip. She would rather kill herself than go back to being her father's slave. "You'll be fine, don't worry. Any problem you have, I should be able to correct. Boot her up."
"Aye, aye, beautiful," Duo responded with a grin and started Deathscythe Hell. The hum of his suit was comforting to him. He leaned forward and hugged one of the control consoles. "Oh, I missed you." Being unconscious for almost the whole of a month had kept him from his darling Gundam, and even before then, he only had one opportunity to take her out for a spin. That time, however, he ended up attacking his friends and falling unconscious again anyhow. He looked forward to piloting his Gundam with no worried. "The screens are different," he noted and called out to Isabella.
"Well, do you like them or not?"
"Uh, I guess. The windows are more organized and sleeker looking. The new font is bigger and easier to read. It's different, that's all," the braided pilot said.
"Are you sure, because I can change it back just as easily…"
"No, no," he called out, "I like it, really. I'm sure the guys will too." In reality, he wasn't so sure about that. He wasn't lying—but he just knew that the others weren't always happy when changes were made to their Gundams. "How much more until you're done?"
"I don't know," she said absently, "twenty minutes? Half of an hour? My alterations are processing right now, and then I just want to run my program to see if CSO can still break through. They shouldn't be able to, but we don't want any surprises…"
"Well, we can leave it run and go—"
"No," Isabella interrupted quickly, "I don't leave my laptop unless I absolutely have to."
Duo blinked, surprised by her slightly snappish response. "Oh, okay," he said slowly. It was like moving cautiously because a deadly creature was around, talking to a woman. A guy could never know when their attitude would suddenly just… change. "Well, if I go and get us lunch from the kitchen staff, want to eat together? I'll make sure to bring back coffee…"
"Coffee?" She immediately perked up, sitting straight from her lounging position or the metal platform some feet below him. "Yes, okay. I won't be going anywhere for a while- though Yuy and Chang may lose it if I'm left along with your suits. I'm sure they think I'm going to sabotage them or something. As if I couldn't do that whenever I wanted," she laughed arrogantly, causing Duo to slightly roll his eyes at her.
"If they have a problem with it, they can just come down and watch your every move themselves. They'd get real bored, real fast," Duo replied and hopped out of Deathscythe.
"And you don't?"
"Heck no!" He grinned mischievously, "out of all five of us, I'm the one who can most appreciate a lovely woman." With that, he went down the metal stairs, the rubber of his black converse making only a small amount of noise.
Isabella shook her head and rolled her eyes. She had, of course, had young men (and sometimes not so young men) flirt with her before. Usually, they tried to be at least a little subtle. Duo Maxwell however, did not know the term subtle when it came to women.
000
Author's Note: tonight and tomorrow night will be the last updates for at least a week, I promise.
I also promise that Isabella is NOT the focus of this story. She is important due to her involvement with CSO, but she is not the main character. Hopefully, you as readers can bear with her for just a bit longer before the… team dynamic kicks in!
I am very interested in your thoughts—about the characters, about the science, about the plot… whatever crosses your mind!
Thanks everyone!
A.F