Dearka lay on the infirmary bed taking in the interior of the ship that he had been trying to destroy for the last few months. It felt just a little strange. When in battle, often you forgot that the thing you were trying to destroy wasn't just a hollow shell, but that everything had something more. Every mobile suit had a person piloting it, every person had a life story, and every person's life story could fill a dozen books. But the whole thing could be completely wiped out with a single, thoughtless, pull of the trigger. He had always thought of the Archangel as an empty hull, just like the enemies in the games he loved to play. But now, lying on the bed with his hands tied tightly behind his back, he saw things a little differently. This, like every one of ZAFT's ships, had a crew, an inside. He thought back to the girl he had passed in the hallway earlier and found himself wondering what she was doing on board a ship at such a young age. She hardly seemed the soldier type.

He sighed, and threw his thoughts aside. Isn't that how they teach you to look at the enemies? They were fighting for their lives and for the lives of others; they couldn't afford to let dumb, sentimental thoughts get in the way. He stared boorishly at the ceiling, and was about to start counting tiles when the door slid open and two men carrying a stretcher between them entered.

Dearka propped himself onto his elbow, and watched them with unmasked curiously. He was about to ask what was going on, but then noticed the forbidding looks on the two soldier's faces and wisely decided it could wait. He watched as they unceremoniously dropped the limp figure on the bed opposite him. Dearka shifted so he might get a better view of the patient, and felt his eyes grow wide with shock.

"Athrun?"

One of the guards turned to glare at him, but remained silent as his partner pulled out a thick looking pare of handcuffs and attached one end to Athrun's right wrist and the other to the bed. At first it confused Dearka considering his own hands had been tied together behind his back without a second thought given to how uncomfortable it would be to lay down. But upon further inspection he discovered their reasons. Athrun's left arm was at an odd angle, obviously broken, and in more places than one. If they intended to restrain him, that was the only humane way to do it.

Once they had finished, the two men turned to leave.

"Hey, wait!" Dearka yelled, coming back to his senses. "What happened?"

The younger of the two turned and looked uncertainly at his older companion. The older one's face hardened.

"Ask your friend." He said icily, motioning to the motionless Athrun. He then left, followed closely by his friend.


AN: Yeah, I know I'm no writer, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway. :P Despite how it may seem, this story is NOT about Dearka! (Just in case you didn't read the description ;) ) I already have the next few chapters written out, but I'm kinda stuck at the moment, so I decided to go ahead and post the intro for you guys.