It was the kind of letter no parent ever wanted to get. The official, heavy military paper folded precisely into an envelope, the ZAFT seal placed meticulously on the fold, and the address hand-written to not just him, but his wife.
For minutes Tad Elsman held the envelope in his hands, staring at it with a sense of foreboding and dread as his heart pounded nervously in his chest. He'd wanted news of Dearka- he'd heard nothing of him since young Athrun Zala and Rau Le Creuset made their presentation months ago- but he knew, somehow, this wasn't the kind of news he wanted to hear.
Eventually, he slipped his fingers beneath the envelope's flap, breaking the seal in the process. His fingers began to shake as he retrieved the letter, but for once he didn't grab the pen that was usually in his hand. No amount of clicking of the writing tool would be able to calm his nerves, he knew, of what he was about to read.
To the Honourable Tad Elsman, Representative of Februarius, PLANT Supreme Council, and Mrs. Elsman:
We sincerely regret to inform you that your son, Dearka Tad Elsman, 835752-3559, Red uniform, Le Creuset Team, has been reported missing in action.
Sometime between April 15-17, the Le Creuset team was part of two separate attacks against an Earth Alliance vessel near Orb and the Marshall Islands. During the second attack, the heavy assault unit GATX-103 Buster piloted by your son was reportedly shot down, and communications were lost. He did not make it back to the ship, and we have received no further contact from him.
Unfortunately, while investigation crews intend to look into the battles that happened and retrieve more information, Orb has been active in the area and we've been unable to send them to look for your son.
The term "missing in action" is used only to indicate the whereabouts and status of your son are not currently known. We wish to emphasize that every effort is exerted continuously to clear up the status of your son. Under war conditions this is a difficult task, as you readily realize. Experience has shown that many persons reported missing in action are subsequently reported as prisoners of war, but as that information is furnished by those with which we are at war, ZAFT is helpless to expedite such reports.
We extend our heartfelt sympathies to you during this period of uncertainty.
- Z.A.F.T.
Tad gripped the paper tightly, only glossing over the final paragraph. His ears felt warm, and he was sure if he spoke his voice would be hoarse. Dearka...his only son...was missing, quite possibly dead.
He sat there for a few moments more in shock, until he gripped the letter so tightly he tore off the corner. He'd tell his wife that it didn't mean Dearka was dead, but word had already circulated earlier that the son of Yuri Amalfi- someone he knew to be a teammate of Dearka's- had been killed. It was very likely the same fate had befallen his son.
Tad got up from his desk. It was probably best he went home for the day.
As he collected his things, he caught sight of the pictures he had on his desk- one of his family when Dearka was just a baby, and one before one of his dance performances when he was older. Finally, Tad's eyes came to rest on his ZAFT Academy graduation picture. Tears formed at the corner of the committee member's eyes. Soon, they slid down his cheeks, and fell with soft splats on his desk.
He'd pushed his son away, gotten angry with him for joining ZAFT. By the time Dearka had finished the academy, they weren't on speaking terms. He thought maybe it would've changed with time, but while Yuri and Ezalia Joule received letters from their children as they learned first-hand the horrors of war, Tad never heard anything from his son. Why would he? The last thing he'd ever said to him hadn't been that he loved him, or that he was proud of him- he'd told Dearka that he was a disappointment.
He wasn't.
It was clear to him now that he never had been disappointed in Dearka. He'd been immensely proud of his son, but now he would never have the chance to tell him. It was only a matter of time before they got confirmation that he really was gone.
Tad's sadness and guilt, however, soon led to anger. Anger at himself, anger at the war, anger at those blasted, disgusting Naturals. They were to blame. They'd started this war and created those damned machines. Now, they'd taken his own son, and done so in neutral territory.
On Earth.
That damned, wretched place Coordinators had been chased from, where Blue Cosmos and the Earth Alliance reigned supreme. No matter how the war went, the people who lived there would never accept Coordinators.
The council members alone had already lost three of their children to them- how many more lives would be lost in pointless battle? Something had to be done before others had to experience what he was now. Tad reached for his phone, running a finger over one of the pictures of Dearka.
A voice picked up on the other end. "What is it?"
"Chairman Zala, it's Tad," the man from Februarius paused for a moment to collect himself before his voice shook.
"You have my full support going forward. Let's put an end to this war once and for all."