That awkward moment when you rewrite a damn story five or six times and still aren't satisfied. One day maybe I won't be such a nit-picky perfectionist, but for now, it is what it is.
Kiseki has been a project I've worked on (and reworked and reworked and reworked...) for the past six or seven years now, after being wholly dissatisfied with Destiny's... well, everything, really. I felt that many things were handled very poorly, many plot threads dropped, things left unexplained... To that end, Kiseki is something of a personal experiment - how would the story have played out if things that are almost universally considered to be absurd, unlikely or just plain stupid about Destiny were fixed or happened differently?
Yes, there are original characters, but the story doesn't really focus on any one particular character. I've integrated them as best I could into the story without too many hiccups, but should anyone have any comments on them and how I'm handling them, please feel free to drop me a PM. I'm always open to suggestions, and would LOVE some feedback, as this is my first time integrating a cast of OCs into an established canon. Once I finish them, character sheets and maybe some other sketches for the Kiseki Project can be found on my deviantART page.
Pairings are not the primary focus of this story - fixing the rampant stupid is - but they do exist. There's a few OC x Canon, a couple key Canon x Canons, and a few OC x OCs thrown in there for good measure. I do not believe ShinnLuna is a thing. It's pretty high up there on my list of "Stuff That Makes No Sense in Destiny", which doubles as my list of "Stuff to Not Make Happen in Kiseki". Because in no universe should "Hi, I just killed your sister. Wanna make out?" ever work as a pick-up line.
Kidou Senshi Gundam SEED Destiny © Sotsu, Sunrise, MBS, and anybody else I'm neglecting to mention. I own nothing, and gain nothing from writing this story other than my own satisfaction. I love Destiny; in fact, despite all its shortcomings, I can safely and proudly call it my favourite Gundam series. This is all purely a labour of love.
［機動戦士ガンダムＳＥＥＤ・ＤＥＳＴＩＮＹ：奇跡］
Hey, Mom. I guess it's been a while since I last wrote to you, huh? How have you been?
I'm sure Dad's already told you, but I've been deployed. Before you freak out or anything, don't worry. I'm assigned to a cargo vessel, so it's not like I'm in any kind of danger, even if things do get tense between Earth and the PLANTs again. But it's peace time, right? So for now, we're pretty much just running supplies from Carpentaria, Diocuia, Gibraltar and the like to the PLANTs. It's mindless, but it keeps us busy, at least. Still, I do wish that we had something more important to do.
Well, not that it matters now, anyway. I'm not studying at Copernicus anymore, but that's all right. Even if it's just a little… I want to be able to help. In my own way.
Please don't worry about me. I've got other pilots here to watch my back for me if things DO get rough, and so far, the crew's treated me so kindly. I promise you, I'll be home for New Year's.
I miss you.
Phase 01: Embers Alight
October 3rd, CE 73
Historians tell us that many centuries ago, people viewed the blessing of the world they called home through closed eyes. Long before we could glide effortlessly through space, and even before we could soar through the skies in rudimentary aircraft, we sailed the oceans on ships of wood and iron. Today, those in service to the military often look back on those simpler times with a sort of romantic nostalgia; like fond memories of one's early childhood. In many of the greatest 'high-seas' tales that have filtered down through the countless generations since the days of their birth, the binding force that keeps the crew together through thick and thin is the captain. Often a battle-hardened, salty old man with a cherished chip on his shoulder, he is the backbone of his beloved vessel, guiding his crew with a firm hand.
Captain Harald Amsel of the derelict ZAFT cargo freighter Galilei brought all of those ancient mariners to mind. He was an older man, probably in his late sixties, with shaggy, silvery-white hair and the tanned, weather-beaten complexion of a man who had spent more than his fair share of time in the sun. A jagged scar crossed the bridge of his nose, and several others marred his strong, dense arms; each with its own tale that he would gladly tell to any who would listen. On most days, his expression would be one of warm admiration and pride as he overlooked his vessel's menial, but fulfilling, operations.
But today was not most days.
The Galilei was grounded. She was an older ship, and prone to breakdowns, but today, she sat in dry-dock at Carpentaria, undergoing a complete overhaul. You know how it is – your ship starts making funny clunking sounds once in a while when it re-enters the atmosphere, and somehow that translates into a couple hundred thousand dollar repair bill thrown in your face by your mechanic. Of course, Amsel didn't have to eat the cost himself – it was ZAFT's problem, after all – but the longer his ship sat around doing nothing, the longer it would take them to get her flying and doing delivery runs again. He had a reputation to uphold – he and his crew were among the most prompt and timely of any of ZAFT's delivery teams. But that shipment from Gibraltar wasn't going to deliver itself to Aprilius. That was his job, and he couldn't get it done – not like this, anyway. And that pissed him off.
To make matters worse, word had been filtering in all day about a raid that had taken place up at Armory One the day before. Several of ZAFT's new models had apparently been stolen, the colony was heavily damaged, and their new warship, the Minerva, had been kicked out into space in all the commotion. It sounded like a comedy of errors, really. Had no one really been competent enough to stop things from spiraling out of control? And they called themselves an army. Pathetic.
So Amsel continued to scowl down at the work crews from an air-conditioned viewing lounge, high above the Galilei's deck, silently cursing the sweltering Australian heat. In that sun, there was no way the crews were working as fast as they could. And time was of the essence.
［奇跡］
The Galilei's young Deputy Captain, however, wasn't nearly so concerned. The black-coated Kazuki Sunahara, with his deep violet hair strewn across his face, rested his head casually on a table in Carpentaria's merchant district, his lunch tray scraped clean and left abandoned next to him.
He was having a lazy day. Normally it would be his and his subordinate's jobs to load up the Galilei with new cargo using their ZAKUs, but with the ship down once again for repairs, he found he had little to occupy his time. He pulled his phone from inside his unlatched coat and absent-mindedly played any one of the games he had.
"You know," came a soft voice from behind him, "I'm not so sure that Captain Amsel would be okay with seeing you slacking off like this. He didn't seem like he was in the best mood earlier."
Kazuki rolled his gaze lazily over his shoulder to lock eyes with his red-coated lackey, Amane Kurokawa. A slight girl with long inky-black hair and pale, grey eyes, she looked fairly normal - for a Coordinator, anyway. Especially when compared with Kazuki's outlandish appearance – his violet hair and gold eyes made him stand out wherever he went. Still, she had a sort of uncanny beauty to her. He broke into a wolfish grin.
"Well, good thing that he's not here, then, mm?" he replied languidly, pulling himself up off of the table and stretching tall. And he was quite tall – an easy six-one to Amane's five-foot-six. She looked up at him disapprovingly.
"That's not really my point, Commander… but then again, I suppose it's not really my place to call you out on things like that," she murmured, looking defeated. Only at times like this could Kazuki pick up the traces of the Japanese accent in her voice – when she was angry, sad, or frustrated by something. He found it quite charming that she tried so hard to hide her inflections; so naturally, he often tried to rile her up to make her slip. He chuckled darkly.
"Haa… honestly, even when we're super busy, working on the Galilei ain't nothin' like my previous assignment," Kazuki quipped, "so I can't really help it if I've gotten rusty."
"Lazy's more like it," she shot back out of the corner of her mouth. He pouted, slouching back down onto the tabletop, folding his arms in front of him and resting his head on them.
"Well, hey. I can't imagine this is anything like what you were expecting when you graduated as a Red, hmm? You can't tell me that you haven't lost your edge, even if you are a fresh face."
She sighed heavily and threw herself down in the seat opposite him. He had a good point, as loath as she was to admit it. When she'd graduated, she'd expected to be doing something a little more influential than delivering packages. That being said, she knew full well why she'd been assigned to the Galilei and not some battleship somewhere, but Kazuki didn't need to know her problems. Not yet, anyway. She really had no idea that he'd already figured out a great deal about her from her personnel file. For now, she just looked away absently, avoiding his sagacious, scrutinous gaze.
"Well... no..." she trailed off. She knew full well she'd probably lost her touch. But these days, things were so quiet anyway. Since the Great War ended, hadn't just about everyone?
Kazuki himself had more than his fair share of stories to tell. Prior to becoming an accomplished pilot and Deputy Captain of the Galilei, he'd been a mechanic aboard a Nazca-class in the days of the Bloody Valentine War, and he was involved in a pretty intense flight from the front lines, which "may or may not have involved theft of a Mobile Suit or two", at the very end. That was as much as he'd told Amane, and she wasn't privy to most of the intense details, but then again, she hadn't been around for long. She'd only been with the ship for around three months. One day, he'd get around to telling her all of his "epic adventures" from the Great War.
"Well, now. Enjoying your down time, you two?" came a warm voice from Kazuki's left. He looked lazily up from the table to lock eyes with Harald Amsel. The nineteen-year-old Deputy Captain sat there for a second, looking completely poleaxed, then leapt to his feet in a formal salute. Amane stifled a laugh, then also rose and saluted, smoothing out the wrinkles in her red pencil skirt.
"S-Sir," Kazuki blustered awkwardly. Amsel chuckled.
"Please, sit back down. I didn't mean to disturb you," he offered, taking a third seat beside his crew members. Both Kazuki and Amane sat again, but a fair bit more formally than had a moment before.
Amsel really genuinely liked Kazuki. It was why he'd chosen him as his Deputy Captain so fresh out of training. He was an "honest lad", but a bit of a scoundrel at times. But he seemed dependable, and had this amazing ability to bring some humour to an otherwise humourless job. As for Amane... he hadn't had too many opportunities to speak with her one on one yet, but she seemed polite, reserved, quiet, and honourable. A bit submissive and meek, maybe, but it was plain to him that she had some kind of inner steel to her. He studied the two young pilots intently for a few seconds; they reminded him of his grandchildren back in Berlin. Folding his hands together, he drew a heavy sigh.
"Have either of you heard the news from orbit?" he asked plainly. Both pilots shook their head. He nodded. "I figured as much. Seems like they're only letting commanders in on it for now."
"What happened, sir?" Kazuki piped up. He was kind of a commander, right? He should be allowed to know. Amsel's brow furrowed, casting his gaze to Amane.
"...I'm sorry, Kurokawa, but could you leave us for a minute?" He really wanted to let her know, too – he didn't like leaving her in the dark like that – but it really wouldn't affect her much either way. Then, she really didn't seem to mind. Or at least, if she did, she understood why. She rose from her seat, gave a curt bow (a force of habit from her Japanese upbringing that Kazuki found adorable), saluted, then disappeared into the crowded base.
"Alright, so what's going on?"
Amsel looked around, then leaned forward towards Kazuki, speaking in a low, grave voice.
"Armory One has fallen. It was raided early yesterday, and the units our guys were developing out there were stolen by an unknown team. The entire fleet's been put on high alert to keep an eye out for 'em. The Minerva's taken to calling 'em 'Bogey One'," he explained. Kazuki looked completely poleaxed. "Of course, there's almost nothing we little people can do about it. The Galilei can't even defend herself, let alone try and do what the Minerva couldn't, haha..."
"...An unknown team? So we don't know if it was the Earth Forces yet?" Kazuki asked. Amsel sighed and smiled. He may not look too bright, nor act it most of the time, but the kid was sharp.
"Not yet. I mean, we all know that they're really the only ones capable of pulling off this kind of stunt. Aside from Orb, maybe, but their own Chief Representative was at Armory One when the whole thing went down, so it seems a bit unlikely that they were behind it. Wouldn't want to risk Uzumi Nara Attha's precious daughter, mm? She's like the Lacus Clyne of Orb."
"So it's safe to assume that this'll raise tensions between the Earth and the PLANTs again?"
"Safe to assume, yeah," the old captain parroted back, stretching and cracking his neck.
"Think we'll be going to war?" Kazuki hesitated.
"Over something like this? I sure as hell hope not," Amsel growled. "But I don't think Chairman Durandal'd send us to war at the drop of a hat or anything. He wants lasting peace between Earth and the PLANTs as much as the next guy."
"Still, it'll change how we do things," Kazuki said quietly. Amsel chuckled.
"What, you mean you pilots'll actually have to do the jobs you're hired for? Say it ain't so." His voice oozed sarcasm. Kazuki and Amane had been assigned to the Galilei to give it some means of protecting itself, should it find itself in a combat situation; the ship had no weapons of its own, as it predated the Great War. In the wake of Bloody Valentine, ZAFT had begun stocking each of its unarmed carriers with one or two pilots, usually at the ends of their careers, just in case they came under fire. But after the end of the war, so many young Coordinators had signed up to join ZAFT as pilots that they had no choice but to put perfectly good soldiers, who, by all rights, probably belonged on the front lines, on ships where they'd likely never see action. Of course, the best of the best got placed on Nazca-classes or new ships like the Minerva. The ones that got shuffled to the back... well, they were more average. Kazuki'd read in Amane's personnel file that she'd been pushed aside to the Galilei on account of some trouble with her eyesight – someone'd screwed up her genes when she was made into a Coordinator. She was an average shot, really, but just couldn't see well enough to feel confident about pulling the trigger. That didn't matter much to him, though. Frankly, he was just impressed that she was a First-Gen. Didn't see too many of them around nowadays, given the world's current opinion of Coordinators. Not many Naturals were lining up to throw their kid into a lifetime of ostracism, loathing and prejudice anymore, despite the obvious advantages. Too bad it didn't pan out quite as well as it could have for Amane.
Kazuki laughed. "Well, at least I can say I've done something for you guys," he said, looking down at his long, black coat, plucking at his collar. "Why'd you pick me, anyway?"
"'Cause I like your attitude. You can be a bit of a dumbass sometimes, but you're nineteen. You've got a good head on your shoulders for someone your age. I wanted to give you what little leg-up I could, given my own current position," Amsel replied. "Now come on. We should head back to the Galilei. If they're not done by now, I'm gonna go nuclear on 'em. Tell Kurokawa to meet us there."
"Sir." Kazuki beamed, pulling his phone from his pocket and relaying the captain's message. He then followed in Amsel's footsteps back to the dry dock.
［奇跡］
"Yeah, so just keep an eye on your ZAKU's CPU when you're fighting, okay kid? I'm not entirely sure it's fast enough to keep up with your fighting style," came a booming voice from the cockpit of an old, outdated ZAKU Trial-Type. "Wouldn't want it seizing up on you mid-fight."
"Thank you, Reno-san," Amane called up to him in response, "but I really can't see myself having to use it anytime soon."
She surveyed her machine with a scrutinous eye - a ZGMF-X999A ZAKU Trial-Type. It was outdated, to say the least; nothing like ZAFT's current ZAKU Warriors and Phantoms. But it packed something that most of them did not. She'd taken to calling it a Blader-type, like the Blaze, Gunner and Slash that evolved from it – its main weapon was one long Excalibur Anti-Ship beam-sword, like the ones used by the now-fielded Sword Impulse, instead of the tomahawk common to its derivatives. It had been the test bed for the weapon itself – to see if a standard Mobile Suit had enough power to wield it for extended periods of time.
Shame about the colour, though, she thought as she squinted through the glare off the unit's bright yellow paint.
The Australian sun was blistering. It had to be above thirty-five Celsius out here on the dock. Amane's coat was a dark crimson, but unlike her commanding officers, she wasn't wearing heavy pants or tall boots. Uncomfortable? Yes. Unbearable? No. The air seemed to shimmer and ripple in the heat, distorting the engineer as he descended from the ZAKU's controls.
Reno was a rough-looking man in his forties, with a mop of frizzy, rust-coloured hair and a thick beard of much the same. He was the chief engineer of Carpentaria Base, and thus managed the hundreds of ships and teams that went through the facility weekly. That being said, he was a long-time friend of Harald Amsel, and so he had a bit of a soft spot for the Galilei and her crew.
"Well, better safe than sorry, you know? Things may heat up soon, and I'd hate to see you kids get hurt out there fighting for us doddering old men," Reno said offhandedly. Amane's laser-guided expression told him instantly that he'd said too much.
"What do you mean, things may heat up? You know what happened, didn't you? What Captain Amsel wouldn't tell me?"
"Euuuh... N-Nothing that I can fill you in on, Kurokawa. Black-coats and above only, I'm 'fraid," he stammered. She could tell it was a total ass-pull, but she let it slide with a knowing scowl.
"Yoooo, Amane!" Kazuki bellowed from behind her. She spun around on her heels to face him and Amsel, to whom she gave another bow and salute. A warm smile spread across her delicate features. "An' old man Reno! You're still kicking around here, you gear junkie?"
"Kazuki!" Amane hissed, the smile evaporated. Kazuki had this amazing knack for being completely inappropriate to the wrong people. It seemed to bother her more than it did others, though.
"Of course I am, you ungrateful little snot!" Reno barked back, but the grin on his face made it obvious that he wasn't actually mad. "I've been doin' this since before you were born, son! You didn't think a little dry Aussie heat would make me kick the bucket, did ya?" The two men burst into hearty laughter, then caught one another in a firm handshake. "Sunahara, we did some tunin' up on yours and the girl's ZAKUs. Would both of yeh mind givin' 'em a once-over? Make sure they're workin' alright for ya?"
"Sure thing, boss," Kazuki replied with a nod. "C'mon, Amane."
She smiled quickly, giving a grateful bow and respectful salute to Reno, then took off after her Deputy Captain. The exhausted engineer and the old captain watched and listened to the two of them banter back and forth as they went to their Mobile Suits.
"Amane, why do you do that bow thing all the time?"
"I can't help it, it's how I was raised..."
Their voices faded into the background cacophony of the base's operations as Amsel and Reno looked on.
"You told the boy about Armory One yet?" Reno asked. Amsel nodded solemnly.
"I'm not sure whether or not I should trouble the rest of the crew with that information. It really won't affect how we do things much, but still... I just don't feel right keeping it from them," he murmured. Reno clapped him squarely on the shoulder with a broad, calloused hand.
"Well, your girl-pilot's already got a pretty good feeling something's up. May or may not have inadvertently been my big mouth," Reno shrugged, turning his back on Amsel and staring up at the Galilei. "If I were you, I'd be inclined to tell 'em. Your whole crew, not just the kids. Then again, I ain't a Captain. It ain't my place to make your decisions for you." Amsel's brow furrowed as he weighed his options. Reno glanced over his shoulder at his friend. "While I have your attention, though, Harald... I should go over the changes we made to your bucket of bolts."
"Sure. How much duct tape's holding it together this time?"
"Hah. You're funny," Reno replied flatly. "Anyway, the big change is to your engines. We've retrofitted them, and providing you're not completely overloaded with cargo, you should be able to propel yourselves into orbit directly. No more need to run to a Mass Driver every time you need to get to the PLANTs. Should help you make up for lost time," Reno said proudly. His smile was infectious, and Amsel couldn't fight back a grin of his own. "Everything else is just Band-Aid fixes. You should be ready to leave within the hour. I'd get your brats to load the hold now, so you can get on your way as soon as possible."
"Thank you, old friend," Amsel said quietly.
"Old?! Look who's talkin', you old coot!" Reno roared, once again clapping Amsel on the back with a strong hand, nearly knocking the wind from the Captain's lungs. "Oi! Kid!"
"Yeah?!" Kazuki shouted down from the seat of his Slash ZAKU Phantom, painted a rich, deep purple – his custom colours.
"Get your shit together! You guys're leavin'!"
"Aye, sir! Kurokawa, give me a hand with the freight containers, would ya?"
"Y-Yeah! A-Alright!" Amane stammered, firing up her ZAKU and walking over to a heavy cargo crate. The two of them started loading the Galilei, container by painful container.
"...You've got good pilots, Harald," Reno said with odd finality as he watched them work. "Make sure you can bring 'em home if things get rough."
"I know, I know. I will. And besides, even if we do get into trouble up there, you'll be here to patch us up afterward, am I right?" Amsel boomed, his deep, hearty laugh echoing out across the dock. "Take care of yourself."
Once the two ZAKUs were loaded into the cargo hold, Amsel himself boarded his decrepit old vessel, and the hatch sealed shut behind him. For better or worse, the Galilei was soon back on its way into space, just as it had been countless times before.
［機動戦士ガンダムＳＥＥＤ・ＤＥＳＴＩＮＹ：奇跡］
'To every beginning, there is always a conclusion. Nothing can go on without end. Not hatred, not war, and most certainly not life. In fact, life is the most ephemeral of all things. I suppose I should have realized it sooner.'
'Ass-pull'? Why yes, I AM addicted to TV Tropes. Why do you ask?
In all honesty, though, TV Tropes has been invaluable in helping me write this story – or rather in helping me procrastinate on a few hundred different tabs while I TRIED to write this story. Not sure if helping or being an awesome distraction. Really, though, I'm pretty sure I have all of my characters classified based on tropes by now. It's unhealthy. ; A;
Kiseki will eventually pick up with more of the main cast, starting probably in the next chapter, if I haven't gotten myself ass-backwards with my planning. I feel like I should be using Celsius, since that's what I'm most familiar with (and, if I'm not mistaken, what they use in the Cosmic Era for whatever convoluted reason), but if you're more familiar with Fahrenheit... 35°C is around 95°F. Is hawt.
Do let me know what you thought of this first chapter. I could really use the feedback. Might help stop me from deleting it again and starting over for an eighth time. FML.
- 朱隠し