A.C. 195
The sound of excited shouts and running feet brought Regina Torres out of her room and into the hallway of the pilots’ quarters. She brushed her hands through her waist-length auburn hair, gray eyes confused as she watched the rush. At fifteen, she was one of the youngest pilots on the base, but she was good. "What’s going on?" she asked.
"Didn’t you hear?" one of the other pilots said. "We captured a gundam pilot!"
Regina followed the others to the pilots’ lounge. A closed-circuit television had been set up. One of the others grinned at her. "So many people wanted to watch the interrogation that they set these up all over the place."
Regina didn’t answer, for she was captivated by the sight on the screen. My God, she thought, he’s only a boy! He was seated on a chair, and his eyes followed the officer that paced in front of him, but it was too dark in the interrogation room to see what color they were. Words were exchanged silently, as no sound came out of the television. Suddenly the officer backhanded him off the chair, sending his brown hair flying. There was more of it than she had thought, the majority of it being tied back in a braid that looked like it fell to at least his waist.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the cheering of the other pilots as the interrogation officer proceeded to kick the boy in the stomach. "Yeah, get him!"
"Make him talk!"
"Beat the crap outta him!"
Two other soldiers in the room dragged the boy up off the floor and sat him in the chair again. He sat doubled over, arms across his wounded midsection. More words were exchanged, and the officer hit the boy again, this time a straight punch that rocked the boy back in the chair. The watching pilots cheered again.
Regina was finding it hard to breathe. They think this is some kind of game...a real-life movie. Can’t they see someone’s getting hurt? Pushing through the soldiers that had come in behind her, she made it out to the hallway and stumbled back toward her room. Once inside, she locked the door before collapsing to her knees, hot tears streaking down her face. "My God...my God..." she kept repeating. She knew she shouldn’t be crying. He was the enemy, wasn’t he? But he was so young, barely more than a child. How could they laugh while someone beat him?
She managed to muster the strength to go to the mess hall for dinner, eating quickly in a corner and trying to ignore the blow-by-blow reenactment of the interrogation that a couple of the other pilots were doing for the benefit of a tableful of soldiers who had been out on patrol. She understood one thing, though. The beating had gone on long after she had left the room.
* * * * *
Duo Maxwell tried to tell himself that he had been through worse, but the sharp pain from a cracked rib in his left side protested that. His chest hurt not only from the cracked rib but from the multiple bruises the soldier’s boots had left on him. His head was throbbing where it had been slammed into the floor and his jaw ached where it had been kicked. He could barely open his eyes, and he knew that in an hour they would be so swollen he wouldn’t be able to open them at all. Blood still trickled from his split lip and his nose. He was surprised they hadn’t broken it. He opened one eye long enough to see that he was alone in the dark cell before he surrendered to unconsciousness.
It seemed like only a second before he was being roughly shaken awake and dragged to his feet. "All right, you, enough beauty sleep," the man on his left said as they half-carried him back to the interrogation room. The flash of pain in his side jolted him fully awake as they dropped him in the chair. The officer stepped in front of him. "Well, I gave you a day to think about it, like I said I would. Tell us where the other gundams are."
"A day?" Duo asked. "A whole day’s gone by?"
"You were out the whole time? Too bad for you. Tell us where the other gundams are."
"I don’t know."
The man smiled, holding something in his left hand and tapping it against his leg. "That’s not the right answer, but since I’m such a nice guy, I’ll give you one more chance."
"I don’t know where they are," Duo insisted.
"Have it your way, then." The man nodded to the other soldiers, and one held Duo down while the other stripped his shirt off. A pair of handcuffs welded to a stout chain descended from the ceiling. They grabbed his wrists and locked them in the cuffs, and the chain ascended again, lifting Duo off his feet. I have a really bad feeling about this, he thought. When they did this in the movies, the person being tortured usually got whipped. "I want to introduce you to a friend of mine...back in history, they called it a cat o’ nine tails."
Duo peered over his shoulder at the whip the officer was wielding and tried to keep the desperation out of his voice. "You can’t be serious. You’re going to use some archaic torture device to get me to tell you the truth? Why don’t you just drug me?"
"This is more fun."
Duo kept silent for the first five lashes, but it became too much and he started crying out every time the whip bit into his back. He lost count somewhere in the twenties and concentrated on just surviving. Eventually, the man stopped. "Now that just looks like a lot of raw meat, doesn’t it?"
"Sure does," one of the soldiers replied.
"You tenderized him, boss," the other added, laughing.
They uncuffed him, and he dropped to his knees. "Where are they?" the man asked.
"I...don’t...know..." Duo replied. He could feel the blood running down his back and heard soft plops where it dripped onto the floor. Please God, he begged silently, squeezing his eyes shut, don’t let them hurt me any more.
The man made a disgusted noise. "Take him back to his cell. We’ll give him a little more time to think about it."
The two soldiers dragged Duo back to the cell and threw him in. He tried to get up, but every movement was excruciating, so he remained laying face down on the dirty floor. He passed out, grateful for the darkness that took away his pain.
* * * * *
Regina could barely conceal her relief at being sent out on patrol, even if it was only for the day. She couldn’t stand everyone talking and laughing about the torture of the gundam pilot. What they were doing to him wasn’t funny.
The day was uneventful and she returned later that evening with a slightly calmer mind than before. Until she dared to ask one of the other pilots what had happened to the gundam pilot that day.
"It was so wicked!" the pilot, Thomas, exclaimed enthusiastically. "They brought him in and sat him in that chair like usual, but when he hit the back of the chair, he tried to jerk forward and fell off and one of the guys kicked him. They put him back on the chair and the officer started questioning him like before, but when he wouldn’t answer their questions, one of the guys grabbed his leg and held it out straight. None of us could figure out what was going to happen, and then the officer gave it one good kick and popped his knee right out of the socket."
"They dislocated his knee?"
"Yeah. It was pretty gross-looking." Thomas didn’t look like he had been very grossed-out, though.
"What happened then?" Regina asked hesitantly.
"They shoved him on the floor and the officer stomped on his knee."
"Oh my God!"
"Yeah, it was so cool. You could tell the guy was in agony."
Regina swallowed. "Did he...stop?"
"Yeah, but every time the guy refused to answer, he’d stomp on his leg again."
She stood frozen, unable to reply. She managed to nod, two quick, jerky movements of her head.
Thomas grinned, obviously taking her nodding as approval of the interrogators’ actions. "And every time the officer kept holding his weight there longer and longer until he was practically standing on the guy’s knee, and you could see the gundam pilot screaming his head off and writhing around on the floor. And then when the officer walked away, the other guys started beating him again, kicking him and stuff while he was laying on the floor. I don’t think he’s gonna last much longer. We’re gonna get the truth out of this guy sooner or later, I bet. And then we’ll get all the gundam pilots."
Regina tossed and turned, but she couldn’t sleep that night. She lay staring at the ceiling and wondered if there was anything she could do. This couldn’t continue forever. They’d either have to leave him alone or kill him, because she doubted he’d ever tell them where the other gundams were. She got up and sat on the edge of her bed, thinking. Then she stood up, slipping on her boots and filling her canteen with water from the bathroom. Slowly she walked down the hall, out of the pilots’ dormitory, and toward the prison facility. She eased cautiously into the front office, ready to bolt at the first sound of voices. All she heard was the adenoidal snore of the guard who was supposed to be on duty. She stepped silently over to the desk. A piece of paper taped to the desk had the word "pilot" penned in next to the number 8, and, wonder of wonders, it also had the code for the key pad. I guess they never thought they’d have a traitor in their midst, she thought, memorizing the code.
She walked down the hall to cell 8 and punched in the code. The door slid open silently, the dim light from the hall illuminating the boy as he lay on his stomach. His left leg was bent funny, and she realized that the knee was still dislocated. She swallowed and walked into the cell. Crouching down, she touched him and he flinched, a thin whine issuing from his throat. "Shhh, it’s okay," she said softly. "I’m here to help you, as much as I can, anyway. I brought you water."
Somehow she managed to get him sitting upright and she held the canteen to his lips. He sipped the water slowly, leaning heavily against her. Eventually he turned his head away and she lowered the canteen. "I always wondered...if the God of Death...had a guardian angel," he murmured softly.
She was confused for a moment, then realized he was talking about himself. He called himself the God of Death? Who was this guy, anyway? "I’d better go," she said. "I’m not supposed to be here and if they catch me I’m in really big trouble."
She eased him back to the floor and he murmured the word "angel" again. She left the cell and hit the button to shut the door, which slid closed. She walked back to the front office, noting with relief that the guard was still snoring away. Leaving the prison facility, she headed back to her room, hoping that she’d be able to get some rest.
* * * * *
They let him lay in the cell for a week, waiting as he slowly regained some strength. He was too weak to even open his eyes. His guardian angel visited every night, bringing water that kept him alive. Finally, he decided he’d had enough of the painful awkwardness of his dislocated knee. "Knee," he said, trying to catch her attention.
"What?" she asked.
"Knee," he repeated.
"Oh God," she said. "You don’t really expect me to be able to just...pop it back into place, do you?"
"Please," he said softly. He felt her hands rest hesitantly on his knee. "Push. Hard." She pushed down on his knee, increasing the pressure until it suddenly snapped back into place. A jolt of pain ripped through him, and his stomach heaved and he threw up the water he had just swallowed a minute ago.
"I’m sorry, I’m so sorry," she kept repeating.
"It’s fine...it’s okay..." he replied.
"Are you sure?"
He moved his leg back and forth a few times. It hurt like hell, but the pain was considerably less than when he had tried to move it before. "Yeah. More water?" She gave him more water and he rested against her like before. He guessed he could open his eyes by now, but he had the funny feeling that she’d disappear if he tried to look at her. He left his eyes closed.
"I have to go, I’m sorry," she said, and helped him lay back down on the floor. He heard her footsteps recede and the door whoosh shut. He allowed a tiny smile to twitch at the corners of his lips. Whoever this woman was, she certainly was a blessing. I guess somebody up there likes me, he thought.
He retracted that thought the next day as he hung by his hands. He hadn’t believed at first they would actually do it. He saw the machine as soon as he walked in, but he didn’t know what it was until they turned it on and he could see the electricity jump from one electrode to the other as the soldier held them in his hands. But he still didn’t think...who in God’s name electrocuted people these days? Apparently they did. Now he was watching with increasing panic as the soldier brought the electrodes toward his body again. "No, no, please no..." He knew he was begging, the desperation apparent in his voice, but he couldn’t help it. This was worse than anything he’d ever experienced before.
"Where are the gundams?"
"Go to hell!" Duo shouted. The soldier shoved the electrodes against his chest and the electricity jolted through him again. He writhed like a worm on a hook, screaming at the top of his lungs. The pain was so terrible he wanted to die. It raced up to his hands and down to his feet, his body on fire as it arched and flopped in helpless reaction to his tormented nerves. Finally, after what seemed like hours but was probably only seconds, the soldier pulled the electrodes away and Duo hung limply, panting. "You’re going...to kill me...and then how will...you find them?" He passed out before he heard a reply.
* * * * *
Regina gasped when she opened the door to the cell that night. The boy lay on the floor, shaking badly. His body was covered with odd little black- and-blue marks. "My God, what happened to you?" she asked, dropping on her knees beside him and gathering him into her arms. She held him close to her, trying to stop the shaking.
His eyes half-opened and then shut again. "‘Lec...tric..." he said, his voice barely audible.
"Oh...oh Christ...this...this is the absolute last straw...these bastards don’t deserve anyone’s loyalty, much less mine. I’m getting you out of here now." One hand clenched her shirt tightly. His lips moved but no sound came out. "What? What are you trying to tell me?"
"Death...scythe..." he repeated in his whispery voice.
"What?"
"Gundam..."
"Oh...yes, if we can get to it, we’ll be able to get out of here." He suddenly went limp, and for a moment she was afraid that he’d died. But his breathing came regular and steady, and she realized he had only fallen unconscious. She heaved him up on her shoulders in a fireman’s carry. He felt so light and frail, it frightened her. Slowly, cautiously, she left the cell and walked out of the prison area without awakening the guard who was, as always, asleep at his post.
It was fairly late at night and she kept away from the main halls as much as possible, and so far she’d been lucky enough to have not been seen. But the hangar they had the gundam in was almost on the other side of the base, and she was sure she’d be spotted before she made it even halfway there.
She went around a corner and nearly bumped into someone. Stepping back, she realized he was a lieutenant. "I’m sorry, sir," she stammered, "I wasn’t watching where I was going."
His face was unreadable, especially since half of it was covered with a silvery mask. She suddenly realized who she was standing in front of. Oh God, it’s Lieutenant Zechs, the Lightning Count. I’m dead. I’m court-martialed and thrown in prison for sure, she thought frantically. What do I do?
He reached out and lifted the boy’s head for a moment. "You’re taking on quite a dangerous task," he said quietly as he let the boy’s head hang down again.
"I can’t let them hurt him anymore. They’ll kill him."
"He is a gundam pilot, you know."
"They tortured him...what kind of sickos do that these days? They don’t deserve my loyalty or respect." Her heart pounded. He could get her in trouble just for talking to him like this.
To her surprise, he smiled slightly and gestured for her to follow him. "It’s faster if you go this way."
"Sir?"
"I may be OZ’s star soldier, but that doesn’t mean I feel any more loyalty toward them than you do. You can trust me."
Nodding a little, she followed him down the hall. He led her outside and to a jeep. "Take this. No one will notice who your passenger is."
She put the boy in the passenger seat and buckled the seatbelt around him to keep him from falling out. "Is there a lot of security around the gundam?"
Zechs looked at her, and she had the impression that he was surprised by her question and was regarding her intensely from behind that mask. "Do you think you can fly it?"
"I don’t have much choice in the matter. He can’t do it and I’m not going to leave it behind."
"Indeed," Zechs said thoughtfully, then added, "I doubt there’s much security. With the pilot locked up and half dead, what would be the point?"
They shared a small smile at that. "Thank you, sir," Regina said finally.
"You’re welcome. What is your name, by the way?"
"Regina Torres."
"Good luck, Regina."
"Thanks," she replied and got in the jeep. Starting the engine, she drove toward the other end of the base. The shoulder strap on the seatbelt held the unconscious pilot upright in the seat next to her, even though his head flopped around a little. She parked the jeep behind the last hangar and got out, then walked around to the other side and released the pilot’s seatbelt. He slumped against her, and a small sound came from him. "Hey, are you awake?" she asked.
His arm twitched. "Death...scythe..." he muttered.
"We’re almost there. We’re outside the hanger."
His eyes flickered slightly open. "Leaving?"
"I hope so. Can you try to walk just a little?"
"Yeah..." She helped him out of the jeep and they walked to the hangar. He limped and leaned heavily against her, but they were moving.
The first door they came to was locked, so they continued down the side of the building to another door. It opened when Regina turned the handle, and she peeked inside. "No one in sight," she whispered as she helped the pilot get inside.
"Sorry..." he said, and he slumped to the floor, unconscious again. Regina sighed and heaved him up on her shoulders again.
She set out across the hangar floor to the gundam, examining it as she walked. "Deathscythe, huh?" she said to herself. "That’s appropriate." The massive black and silver machine was still holding the weapon that became a thermal energy scythe in battle. She’d seen enough battle damage to know exactly what that thing could do.
She stepped onto the small elevator and it carried them up to the catwalk from which they could reach the cockpit of the mobile suit. She glanced down at the floor, kind of surprised that there hadn’t been at least one or two soldiers in the hangar to guard the suit. Unless Lieutenant Zechs had decided to help her out and called for them to get them out of the hangar. I’ll have to ask him if I ever see him again, she thought.
Reaching the mobile suit, she hit the recessed button next to the cockpit and the door opened silently. Glancing up at the face of the mobile suit, she suddenly had the urge to introduce herself to the machine. "My name is Regina Torres," she said softly. "I’m--I was an OZ pilot. There’s no way I could go back now, and I wouldn’t want to. I helped your friend," she added. Nothing changed, but she could almost sense acceptance in the air. You’re crazy, girl, she told herself. It’s a mobile suit. It doesn’t have the capacity to accept or reject you. Just get in and get out of here.
She slung the pilot down from her shoulders and heaved him into the cockpit seat, buckling him in. She got in and was just barely able to sit on the edge of the seat between his knees. Examining the controls, she found them both familiar and unfamiliar to her. She was pretty sure about the basic operating system, which she hoped was all she needed. She didn’t want to get into a fight with the soldiers at the base.
She hit a button and the door closed. So far so good. Another series of buttons brought up the screens. "Okay," she said softly. "Time to rock and roll." Grabbing the controls at the end of the seat arms, she backed the suit up a couple of steps. It responded smoothly, and she grinned. She turned the suit and sent it walking across the floor to the big doors at the end of the hangar. They were closed. "How do I..." she muttered, and then realized the door controls were down at floor level. "How am I supposed to get down there?" she said aloud, opening the cockpit door and peering down. Then she noticed the black handle sticking out of a recess similar to the one that housed the outer cockpit button. She grabbed it and there was a click as the handle released and pulled away from the suit, still attached by a thin but strong rope. She took a breath and jumped out of the suit, the rope lowering her slowly to the floor.
She cautiously let go when her feet touched the floor, and the handle remained dangling above her head. "Wish they had that on the Leos," she said, giggling softly to herself. This was starting to be fun. She walked to the control panel and hit the button, and the doors began to slowly rumble open.
As she walked back to the suit, a door opened down the hangar and a group of soldiers ran in. They saw her and shouted, running across the floor toward her. "Oh jeeze," she said, grabbing the handle. It started to pull her up as a few bullets ricocheted off the suit. "Please go faster, please go faster," she said under her breath. "I feel like target practice hanging here." When the rope stopped, she scrambled back into the cockpit and shut the door, pushing at the controls to make the suit move forward. The hangar doors were just wide enough to allow the suit to exit.
Sirens were sounding an alarm outside, and she knew she didn’t have much time left before the soldiers scrambled to their suits and started an attack. She hit the flight ignition button, and the gundam took off with such force that she was tumbled back against the unconscious pilot. She pushed the acceleration to its limits, wanting to just get away. She watched one of the screens as the base quickly vanished amid the forest it was in. Glancing back at the boy, she sighed. "I sure wish you were awake, because I haven’t the slightest idea where to go."
The suit flew for a few hours, and as the sun came over the horizon, she realized she had reached the ocean. Water stretched out in front of her as far as she could see. She glanced at the fuel gauge. It was still pretty full, and for lack of any other obvious direction to go, she let the suit continue out across the water.
A few miles out, she passed over a boat. She was afraid that someone had seen her and would report her, but she was even more surprised when someone hailed her. "Duo Maxwell, is that you?" a husky male voice asked. "Everybody’s been lookin’ all over for ya. Duo?" She hit the visual button and the man popped up on the screen. He was thin and balding, wearing a loud Hawaiian shirt and black sunglasses. "Who are you?" he asked, sliding his sunglasses down. "Where’s Duo?"
"My name is Regina Torres, and if you mean the gundam pilot, he’s right here with me." She leaned to the side to reveal the still-unconscious boy. "I rescued him from the base."
"Well if that don’t beat all. It’s obvious you can fly that thing, but can you land it?"
"I think so," she said, "where are you?"
"On the ship you just passed."
"Okay," she replied, turning the suit around and heading back to the ship. With a little bit of maneuvering, she managed to land it on the deck. A crane lowered it to a horizontal position and she opened the cockpit door and climbed out. A team of medics was ready and waiting, and they scrambled up the suit, lifting the boy out of the cockpit and carrying him away on a stretcher. Duo Maxwell, she thought to herself, remembering his name.
The man with the Hawaiian shirt sauntered over to her. "My name’s Howard," he said. "I’ve worked with Duo before, done repairs on his gundam." He looked at her uniform. "You’re with OZ?"
"I was," Regina said. "I’m not planning on going back."
"I’m guessing you were a pilot."
"Yeah."
"What’d ya fly?"
"Leos, mostly. I flew an Aries a couple of times."
"The Deathscythe is a bit different, huh?" he said, grinning.
She laughed. "Yeah, just a bit."
One of the medics walked up to Howard and they began a hushed conversation. When the medic left, Howard turned to her. "He’s been beat all to hell, but they think he’s gonna be okay. With some serious rest and nourishment, he’ll be recovering in no time." He paused, and then added, "You probably saved his life."
"I couldn’t just let them keep torturing him," Regina said quietly. "He would’ve died, I’m sure of that, and he can’t be more than what, fifteen?"
"‘Bout that."
"Not any older than me," she said.
"You’re welcome to stay aboard, if you want. I can get you a cabin and maybe rustle up some clothes if you don’t wanna wear that uniform anymore."
She looked down at her clothes. "Yeah, it would probably make it a lot easier to fit in with your crew if I didn’t, huh?"
"Yep. I’ll show you where you can stay, and then I’ll see what I can find, okay?"
"Yeah, thanks."
* * * * *
Duo woke up, and slowly opened his eyes. God, he hurt. He groaned, and the man checking the machines beside his bed turned and looked at him. "Mr. Maxwell?"
Duo groaned again.
"Welcome back, Mr. Maxwell. How are you feeling?"
"Terrible," Duo muttered.
"Well, hopefully we’ll be able to fix that soon. I can get you something that should take away the pain, if you’d like."
"Yeah...thanks."
As the medic left the room, Howard walked in. He grinned when he saw Duo looking at him. "Hey Duo, how’re you doing?"
"I’ve been better." Duo glanced around the room. "How’d I get here?"
"That girl brought you in the Deathscythe. You don’t remember any of that?"
"Girl?" Duo said. "I thought she was older...she piloted Deathscythe?"
"Yeah," Howard said. "She wasn’t too shabby, either, for not knowin’ how to fly a gundam."
"How long have I been here?"
"A couple of weeks. Some of us didn’t think you’d ever wake up. What did they do to you?"
"Beat me, whipped me...the guy dislocated my left knee and kept stomping on it..."
"Jeeze, what were they doin’ that for?"
Duo laughed a little. "They wanted to know where the others were. Like I’d tell them. I’ve got more honor than that." He paused and then went on. "Anyway, I think the reason I was so out of it was because they electrocuted me."
"They what?"
"They had these...electrode things...and they kept touching me with them..." He closed his eyes and shivered, back in that room for a moment, waiting in agony for the next jolt...
The sound of the door opening broke the vision and he opened his eyes to see the medic coming back in the room. He injected a syringe of clear liquid into the IV in Duo’s arm. "That should take care of the pain for a while once it gets working. It may make you a little groggy, so don’t be afraid to fall asleep if you feel tired. You should be resting rather than talking, anyway."
The door opened again, and this time a girl stepped into the room. She smiled shyly as she walked toward the bed. "You must be my guardian angel," Duo said.
She blushed. "If I was your guardian angel, I would’ve helped you escape long before you needed to be in this bed."
"Hey, I’m alive, so I can’t complain about that." He held out a hand, ignoring his body’s complaint at the movement. "Duo Maxwell, God of Death, at your service."
"Regina Torres, former OZ pilot," she replied, shaking his hand.
"I heard you flew Deathscythe."
She shrugged. "A little talent and a lot of luck. I don’t think I’d try it again without training."
"How about I teach you as soon as I’m well enough to move around?"
"Is this a ploy to get me to stay around longer?"
He grinned. "Sorta."
"I wasn’t planning on going anywhere very soon. I’m sure my father would turn me in if I showed up at home, and I have nowhere else to go."
"He’d turn you in? Some father."
"He owns for a company that produces mobile suits. He’s a real loyalist. Both my brother and I were indoctrinated with tales of the glory of the Alliance and OZ from as far back as I can remember." Regina looked down, vaguely embarrassed by the fact.
Duo yawned, suddenly sleepy. The painkiller was taking effect, and he could feel the aches in his back and knee fading away. "All right, I think that’s enough talk for today," the medic said sternly. "You two leave," he said as he shooed Regina and Howard toward the door, "and you get some rest," he finished, looking at Duo.
"Yeah, yeah," Duo muttered, half-asleep. He lifted a hand and waved at Regina and Howard. "See you guys later."
"See ya, Duo," Howard said as they left. When the door shut behind the medic, Duo let himself fall into a deep, drug-induced sleep.
* * * * *
Regina wandered thoughtfully across the ship’s deck. Everything she’d been taught so far about the gundam pilots was vastly wrong. It had always been assumed that they were older, probably men in their thirties, and ugly with vicious, hateful dispositions. Duo was young, friendly...and so cute! She giggled to herself. Those big violet eyes certainly didn’t hurt his looks any. She wondered if the other pilots were like him at all.
She leaned against the railing and gazed out across the water. For the first time in her life, she realized, she felt relaxed. Even her childhood had been a competition with her spoiled older brother for her father’s attention, and certainly in OZ she had been in a competition with the other pilots for promotions, kills in battle, and endless myriad stupid things. There was no competition here. They accepted her for what she was and didn’t judge her for what she had been.
"Yo, Reggie!" someone called, and she turned. It was Mike, one of the mechanic/technicians aboard. "You wanna help us tune up the ‘Scythe?"
She jogged toward him, a smile flickering across her face. The mechanics had been more than willing to take her under their collective wing as an apprentice of sorts, and she was learning more about the operation of mobile suits than she ever had before. All of the fifteen suits on the ship, with the exception of the Deathscythe, were Leos and Aries that they cannibalized for parts. She’d helped them take the other suits apart, but this was the first time since she arrived that she’d be touching the gundam.
It took longer than she expected, and dusk was touching the sky by the time they finished with the last adjustment. "Just a couple more things, but that’s stuff Duo’s gotta do to suit him," Mike said. "It wasn’t too bad, but I could tell that OZ did some careless probing."
Regina snorted. "More than likely."
"No unexpected surprises?" Howard asked as he walked over to them.
"Nothin’ out of place," Mike replied. "I guess they didn’t think he’d ever be usin’ it again, so why bug or rig it?"
A touch of guilt plagued Regina as Howard nodded. "I wish I’d done something sooner," she said softly.
"Hey, don’t worry about it," Howard said, putting a hand on her shoulder and peering at her over his glasses, a gesture that she’d come to realize was one of his distinct characteristics. "There might have been more trouble if you tried while he was still able to get around on his own. I bet ya anything that his condition made them lazy."
"Yeah, you’re probably right."
* * * * *
Duo let the medic keep him in bed for a week, but he got too restless and was up and around sooner than the man would have liked. "Hey, buddy!" he greeted Deathscythe cheerfully as he walked into the hangar. He still limped slightly, but the pain in his knee was almost gone and his back was nearly healed, although he knew he’d bear scars for the rest of his life. "Didja miss me?" There was no reply on the part of the mobile suit, not that he expected one.
Mike walked over. "Good to see you up and around, Duo. It’s all ready for ya, just needs your usual nitpicky adjustments."
"I’m not nitpicky," Duo protested.
Mike just shook his head, grinning. "There won’t be much to adjust, though. That Reggie girl has a feel for this job. We’ve got that thing runnin’ sweeter than my papa’s Ferrari."
"Where is, she, anyway?" Duo asked. "I haven’t seen her around much."
"Messin’ around with the Aries over there," Mike said, gesturing to the suit. A group of mechanics was gathered around and on it. As Duo and Mike walked toward the suit, one of the arms lifted a couple feet and then stopped as the hand fell off and hit the deck with a thud. The mechanics laughed as Regina popped up from the cockpit.
"Genuine OZ construction right there!" she yelled, laughing. The others went into new fits of laughter.
"Jeeze, I take a couple-week break and you guys turn a perfectly good pilot into a grease monkey," Duo said in mock disgust, his hands on his waist.
Regina got out of the cockpit and slid down the side of the Aries, landing expertly on her feet. "How are you feeling?" she asked as she walked over to him.
"A lot better than before," Duo replied, looking at her. She had her hair back in a braid like his and also wore a cap, although hers was on backward. "C’mon, I’ll show you around the cockpit while I’m making necessary adjustments."
"Nitpicky," Mike said as they started to walk away. Duo glared at him but kept walking, Regina beside him.
* * * * *
They spent the better part of an hour in and near the cockpit as Duo adjusted controls with finicky precision and Regina sat on the body next to the open door, watching him. "You really are nitpicky," she said, laughing softly.
He looked at her, then sighed and grinned. "Yeah, maybe, but this has to be perfect. I can’t have something not responding the way I need it to in battle."
"True."
His smile slowly dissolved into a contemplative expression as he looked at her. "You know, I never really thanked you for saving my life."
"You don’t have to say the words for me to know you’re grateful," Regina said, embarrassed.
"Yeah, I know, but..." he trailed off and simply stared at her, violet eyes serious.
"But?" she asked, trying to keep the tone light. He startled her by getting to his feet, standing on the back of the chair. He cupped one hand under her chin and leaned forward, his lips meeting hers in a tentative, tender kiss.
He broke the kiss, leaning back against the other side of the opening and watching her. She knew he was waiting for a response of some kind, but all she could do was stare at him in bewilderment. He sighed and looked down, running a hand over his hair. "Sorry."
"No," she said softly. "It’s okay, it’s just I...the situation got so intense so fast, and my mind is having a hard time catching up."
He looked at her, a hint of a grin on his face. "So you don’t hate me or anything?"
"What? No, of course not. I was just surprised."
Duo glanced down into the cockpit and then looked back at her. "I think I’m done here. You wanna go see if it’s lunchtime yet?"
Regina laughed. "Okay." Duo boosted himself out of the cockpit and they made their way to the hangar floor. They raced to the doorway like kids, shoving each other out of the way to get through the door first.
* * * * *
A knock on her door brought Regina out of a sound sleep. She glanced at the clock. Five a.m.? What was somebody waking her this early for? She got up and opened the door. Duo stood there, looking kind of sheepish. "Sorry for waking you," he said, "but I got a mission and I...wanted to say goodbye."
"Oh...that’s okay."
"Howard said you’re welcome to stay here as long as you want, I mean, it seems like you really fit in."
Regina nodded. "Yeah, I like it here."
"And I’ll probably be back sooner or later," Duo said, shrugging. "So you’ll more than likely see me around."
Regina nodded again, and they stood in awkward silence for a moment. Then she stepped forward and hugged him. He hugged her back, arms tight around her waist. "Good luck, Duo," she said. "Be careful out there."
"I will." They stepped back from one another and he smiled. "Take care of yourself, Reggie. Don’t believe anything Mike tells you about me."
She giggled. "Why not? It’s probably true."
"Hey," Duo said in protest, and made a mock jab at her stomach.
She flinched anyway, giggling again. "Go on, gundam pilot, get out of here. Go do your mission."
"Yeah, yeah," he said, turning and walking away. He waved without looking back. "Catch ya round, guardian angel."
"See ya," she replied softly, watching until he turned the corner at the end of the hallway. Then she shut the door and went back to bed.
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