Author's Note: I've tried my hand at something a touch more serious in this fic. Hope you'll find it to your liking! For those who reviewed my other story, thanks heaps!

Disclaimer: Gundam Seed and all its characters belong to their respective owners.

An Issue of Humanity

The Vesalius was a famous ship, and not just among ZAFT. Engela Steinberg watched it with narrowed eyes as it drifted purposefully into the space port. A famous ship under a legendary commander… The masked man, Commander Raww Le Klueze, was practically a legend. The Vesalius docked with the leisurely grace of a leopard. No doubt it was carrying a bellyful of Mobile Suits and superhuman Coordinator pilots. She smiled at the forged ID card she clenched in her palm. Her own dark-haired, blue-eyed complexion smiled up at her. A meaningless smile. She straightened her back proudly, careful to keep the disgust from showing on her face as she smoothed the clinging ZAFT uniform over her hips. With a sense of retribution she boarded the Nazca-class spaceship.

For a blue and pure world… she told herself.

---

Yzak had always been short on self control, Athrun reflected as he once again met the silver-haired youth stare for stare. He would have done well to chip the edges off rocks with the sharpness of those ice blue eyes of his. Athrun silently counted to ten before speaking.

"Are you angry with me?" he asked finally, when he was sure he had all emotion completely banished from his tone. The hot-tempered MS pilot seemed to bristle at Athrun's cool reaction.

"Of course I am!" Yzak growled. "How dare you be so smug about the Commander leaving you in charge!?"

Athrun could not imagine what he had done to appear smug, but he managed to keep silent and merely raise a questioning eyebrow in reply. He had no desire to get caught up in a shouting match with Yzak Jule. This seemed only to further aggravate his angered comrade.

"Answer me, you—"

"Come on, Yzak, you're wasting your breath," Dearka cautioned at Yzak's shoulder. "Besides, it's only until the Commander comes back." Yzak spun around to face Dearka, who shrank back at his friend's hostile frown. "Wh-What I mean is, uh… It's not like he chose Athrun because he thought he'd make a better leader than you— That is to say… um… He probably just picked the guy with the best marks, that's all!"

"That's the same thing, you idiot!!!" Yzak screamed. "And how would you know if it's only until the Commander comes back!?"

Dearka's reply was a weak laugh that sounded forced. Athrun was infinitely relieved that he seemed to have been excluded from the conversation. With a sigh, he turned his back and walked away from the foolish bickering. He was just safely around the corner when he heard Yzak demand where Athrun had run off to, followed by an empty threat to watch Athrun's every move. Athrun shook his head at that. At least he had won this round by keeping his dignity. Yzak was a tiring rival. Idly he wondered if Yzak ever got tired of competing with him.

He wandered a little further down the hall, submerged in his own thoughts. He could still hear snatches of Yzak's tirade when his eyes suddenly fell upon an unfamiliar face disappearing into one of the side-corridors. Strange… He had been sure to memorize the crew's faces. There was nothing more embarrassing than mistaking one green uniform for another. Besides, a reputable captain made sure to notice the movements and accomplishments of the people working under him, and while Commander Klueze had merely assigned Athrun as head of the reds, it was still good practice for the future.

So why did he not recognize her? He was certain he would have remembered a face like that – bright blue eyes set in a pleasantly pale face, framed by luscious coils of dark hair – for he would surely have asked himself what someone so feminine and delicate would be doing in the military. Part of him wanted to follow her and ask her plainly who she was and why he could not put a name to her face. The logical part of him decided against it before the notion could take root. He was not at liberty to boss around the crew of the Vesalius, no matter the colour of their uniforms. Perhaps she reallyhad just slipped his mind. If that was the case, it would be terribly rude of him to question her openly. And besides, he did not want to give Yzak ammunition to use on him.

That did not mean Athrun would leave the matter like this, however. Resolutely he quickened his stride. The ship's databanks would have the answers he needed.

---

Engela was going about her mission with extreme care. The security aboard the Vesalius was tougher than she had expected, but her training had served her well thus far. The hardest part of it was to keep her lips from curling into a snarl. The more she saw of these Coordinators, the more it appalled her that these arrogant beings could consider themselves the victims of the war. If only Coordinators had never existed, her mother and Gina would still be— Savagely she cut off that train of thought. If she were to lose herself here, in a ship full of Coordinators, she would surely be caught, and all of her efforts have been for nothing. Patient. Inconspicuous. That was what she needed to be right now.

"Yeah, right, Nicol! Haven't you ever wished that we could have more vacation leave sometimes?" a flame-haired Coordinator was asking as he elbowed his buddy next to him. They seemed deceptively human as she watched the two red-uniformed soldiers talking casually while they worked. But that was all they were – a deception. They were put together to seem so, but they were unnatural miscreations. "I can think of a dozen other things I would be doing right this minute."

"I know…" the green-haired boy in red replied, his hazelnut eyes taking on a dreamy look. "I'd have a lot more time for my piano…" Engela found herself feeling surprised that a Coordinator would care for things like playing the piano. Deceptively human, she reminded herself sternly. Coordinators only had talents like that because they were biologically implanted before birth. Talents stolen from mother nature, talents they had no right to. It was hard not to glare at the young soldier as he went on about which pieces he would have liked to play and why.

"Uh huh," the orange-haired soldier mumbled, a bored expression on his face as he nodded in all the right places.

Patient, she implored herself. When this mission was through, she would make her vengeance swift.

---

Athrun tapped his forefinger to his chin thoughtfully. As he had suspected, she had not been listed as a crew member. At least, not at the time he had been studying the data. She was on the database now. The disconcerting thing was that she had been added around nine o' clock that morning, the exact time the Vesalius had docked. That would have been normal, had they stopped at this port to take on new personnel. But they had not. Most disturbing, though, was the way the records danced in a subtle loop when he tried to open files on the girl's background and training. 'Engela Sternbury' – he doubted that was even her real name – had no records other than that she was a member of the ship's crew. Something was amiss here.

At the mechanical hiss of the door sliding open, Athrun hurriedly switched to a different record and closed the program. It was not like he was planning on hiding the suspicious information, just that he wanted to think on it some more before he got others involved.

"What are you doing, Athrun?" Nicol asked, gliding into the room gracefully.

"Not much," he replied. "I was looking over some files." The unspoken truth felt heavy on his tongue. He would tell the others about this soon enough, he promised himself. All he needed to do was find a way to get her alone, get the truth out of her and report her. He did not want to cause an uproar if this was all a glitch on the computer's part.

"…and Miguel asked me to check some of these reports for him," Nicol was saying. He paused to eye Athrun sheepishly. "If you don't mind, that is. You were here first, after all…"

"Huh? Oh, sure," Athrun startled, "go ahead. I'm done here anyway."

Nicol gave him an odd look as he moved aside to make room in front of the controls, but as soon as his hands touched the panel, he seemed to dismiss Athrun from his mind completely. Nicol was a hard worker, Athrun thought as he slipped out of the room. Small and slight, even for his age, Nicol had had to work twice as hard as the others who had graduated alongside him to get where he was. Athrun had respect for that.

Putting thoughts of Nicol and his fellow graduates aside, Athrun focussed on the thorny matter at hand. First, he would track down the intruder – he was more than sure now that that was what she was – and demand she explain herself. Whatever came next, he would handle as best he could.

---

Dearka stared at the turmoil of Yzak's part of the room. A feeling of hopelessness sweeped through him as his eyes took in crumpled magazines and once-treasured books sprawled open, floating abandoned among other stuff he could no longer identify. Yzak had been in a rage ever since Athrun had been promoted. Now he sat on the edge of his bed with a dangerous glint in his eyes. Dearka was almost afraid to ask.

"Yzak…" he plunged ahead. "What are you thinking?"

Ice blue eyes regarded him with a sense of purpose. All the anger had been washed out of them with the exertion of destroying his half of the room. All that remained was that determined stare. Dearka did his best to ignore the wave of apprehension rising inside of him.

"I'll just have to out-captain that brat," Yzak confided conspiritually. He was really scary when he got like this.

"Sure," Dearka agreed, bobbing his head eagerly, as if he knew exactly what Yzak was planning. "How are you gonna do that?"

"I DON'T KNOW YET!!!" Yzak roared, leaping to his feet. Dearka ducked instinctively and a discarded shoe flew over his head.

Gee, sorry for asking… he thought sourly at Yzak.

---

She was gathering intelligence for the Earth Military. She was a spy. Because Athrun had to stay out of sight as he trailed her thoughout the ship, he could not always make out what she was doing. For all he knew she could be setting up explosives wherever she went. He was not sure whether or not she was armed either. Which was all the more reason not to confront her in public, where people could get hurt.

Finally, she stopped at the locker room. He could not imagine what she expected to find there, except maybe used pilot suits, but this was the perfect opportunity to isolate her from the rest of the crew. She slipped inside. Athrun waited five counts, drew his gun and flung open the door. Once inside, he kicked the door shut behind him and trained the gun on her. It was only then that he realized with a start that she was using the locker room for its true purpose – undressing! Luckily, she had not gotten very far, he assured himself as he fought to get the blush out of his cheeks. Her jacket, arranged on a nearby bench, was the only piece of clothing she had removed before he burst through the door.

The glare she shot him held so much hatred that he felt stunned for a moment. He remembered the gun in his hands and kept its aim true. He was sure the look on her face was not the look of a woman intruded upon, and it was definitely not the look of an innocent officer being falsely accused. Athrun's suspicions had been on the mark.

"Engela Sternbury, you've been discovered," he said in a clear, commanding voice. "Put your hands on your head and get down on your knees."

"It's Engela Steinberg," she hissed as she complied. She did not seem to care about her life at all, flaunting her real name like that. "Are you going to shoot me, Coordinator?" Her lips were stretching into a sickening sneer as she spoke. "Go ahead! I won't feel a thing! You and your kind have already taken everything from me!"

"I'm only going to report you to my superiors…" Athrun said reasonably. "If you don't resist, you will not get hurt." She did not seem to be listening to him as she looked up at him from her kneeling position on the floor.

"This is how they died too, you know…" she whispered. Her eyes glittered with hatred. "On their knees."

"What…?" he asked, unable to stop himself.

"My mother and sister," she spat. The look in her eyes was one of heart-wrenching sorrow. "Shot dead before my eyes." He knew he should be slapping the handcuffs on her. "They were on their knees, begging for mercy!" He knew he should be arresting her. "They were slaughtered, by Coordinators like YOU!"

He could not say why it shocked him so.

Why would she compare him to a bunch of murderers who shot a woman and a girl in cold blood? Because those murderers happened to have been Coordinators. And he happened to be a Coordinator. Why had she joined the army? For what reason? To fight the murderers, the Coordinators who had killed her family who had been harmless. An overwhelming feeling of empathy welled up inside of him. For a moment it was like he was looking down at himself instead of the girl who was glaring defiantly at him. Wasn't that the reason he had joined the army? Because somewhere, an indifferent man had pushed a button, sending nuclear missiles down on the harmless PLANT where his mother had been. Athrun had been powerless to do anything but watch, just as this girl had been.

All he wanted was justice. She, too, was fighting for justice. They were the same.

So why was he aiming a gun at her?

"Come on," he said, lowering the weapon, "let's get you out of here…" When she just blinked and stared at him blankly, he helped her to her feet. "We shouldn't be fighting. We have no reason to." They were too alike to be fighting. How could he explain that to her? "I'll help you escape. I'll need to confiscate your notes, but I don't see any reason why I can't let you go free."

She stared at him like he was out of his mind. Maybe he was. But he could not help feeling sorry for her.

"Why would you want to help me?" she asked.

"All Coordinators aren't murderers," he answered simply.

She was silent while she gathered her jacket and shrugged into it as he waited for her by the door. Athrun thought seriously about what he was doing. He could get into deep trouble for this. But his thoughts went beyond just that. He would never be able to change the feelings of the millions of people whose hearts have been broken by war. He could not even dream of changing the feelings of a handful of people. But maybe he could make a difference in this one life. Maybe he could at least soften this girl's cold, hard hatred.

"You're a nice guy…" she said quietly.

Athrun gave her a small smile. He turned to open the door for her when something hard struck the side of his head. The force of the blow sent him crashing into one of the lockers. Silver spots danced in front of his eyes. The splitting headache that leaped through to his eyes made him wonder if his skull was still intact. He was dimly aware of the gun slipping from his grip and drifting in the minimal gravity. He blinked, trying to clear his vision. The numbing pain from his throbbing temple was gradually seeping through his entire body, paralysing him, but the stab of betrayal lodging in his chest was even more painful. He found himself wondering at the thought that, for someone who seemed so delicate, she sure did not kick delicately. He discarded the useless thought and tried to stand. The cold metal of the gun being pressed to his cheek made his skin tingle. His eyes shot open wide.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you that nice guys die first?" she asked in a breathy whisper close to his ear. "Hold still and you might have the mercy of a swift and painless death."

"I was trying to… help you…" he said, desperately trying to meet her eyes without turning his head.

"I don't need a Coordinator's charity!" she screeched, her voice thick with tears. Distantly, as if someone was not holding a gun on him, he wondered if she was reliving the deaths of her loved ones.

Athrun heard a click and held his breath. A deafening noise filled his ears, the sound of several shots fired. When he opened his eyes, he realized that none of them had been directed at him. Two dazed blinks, and his mind finally registered what he was seeing. The girl was floating in mid-air. She was very still. Her eyes were fixed on something far beyond, something only she could see. Teardrops still floated away from them lazily in the weak gravity. Three gunshot wounds riddled her body. Somehow, he was more horrified at seeing her tears than her blood. He managed to tear his eyes away from her, to see Yzak standing in the doorway holding a pistol.

"Yzak…! Y-You… You killed her!" he cried out the moment he had his voice back.

"She was an enemy soldier. And she was about to kill you," Yzak retorted matter-of-factly. "The least you can do is thank me for saving your life."

He opened his mouth to argue, but when the tall, intimidating shape of Commander Klueze suddenly strode through the doorway, Athrun's tongue tied.

"This could have turned into a very unfortunate situation, Athrun," the Commander remarked. His tone was slow, considering.

"Sir, I—"

He meant to get up, but his legs were none too steady under him, and he sank back against the lockers lining the wall. The Commander held up a silencing palm.

"In the light of today's events, I have decided to make Yzak captain of the squad in your stead," he continued as if he had not even seen Athrun's pathetic movements through the glassy eyeholes of his sinister-looking mask. Yzak's eyes lit up eagerly as the meaning of the superior officer's words took hold on him. "We will now put this mishap behind us. Yzak, see to it that Athrun finds his way to sick bay to have that bump examined." He turned his masked eyes on Athrun. "When you're feeling better, report to the brig, where you will spend time thinking about your errors, to ensure that nothing like this happens again. Understood?"

"Yes, sir…"

"Get someone to clean this up," the masked man said to a soldier behind him, who darted off to obey.

Yzak saluted smartly as the Commander disappeared through the doorway. Once the figure of authority was safely out of earshot, Yzak rounded on Athrun, grasped him by the shoulders and shook him so hard his teeth clicked.

"What's the matter with you, you crazy moron!?" he demanded. "You could have been killed! Are you suicidal or just stupid!?"

Athrun barely heard him. His eyes lingered on the motionless girl who would have lived if he had just plainly arrested her instead of… What had he been trying to do? Prove that he was not a murderer? A fine demonstration that had turned out to be. Yzak led him out into the hall and in the direction of the infirmary, all the while complaining about being appointed Athrun's babysitter, scolding him and calling him a colourful range of names. Athrun did not pay it much attention. He could think of only one thing – he had Engela Steinberg's blood on his hands, and all because of an impulsive act on his part. One he had considered to be an act of kindness.

---

The door to the dark chamber swooshed open quietly, admitting a broad streak of light and two silhouettes. Athrun looked up, glad for the short break in silence. It provided a temporary stop to the perpetual cycle of morbid thoughts churning inside of him. It was the second day of his punishment, and the admonishing words of the Commander were still replaying themselves in his head. He had made it clear to Athrun that, having seen the security camera's footage of what had happened in the locker room, he was not at all impressed. Still, he had added, that he recognized Athrun as a valuable asset to his team and he did not wish to lose him, but rather hoped that Athrun would learn from this foolish blunder. "I shudder to think what your honourable father would say…" had been his closing words. That last had left a lump of dread festering in his middle. Would Commander Klueze report every detail of the incident to his father? Athrun knew he did not deserve a week in the brig for his misjudgement – he deserved expulsion or worse…

So Athrun was surprised to find Nicol and Rusty standing in the doorway instead of the crew member who usually delivered his meals – a glass of water and a slice of bread that was about as appetizing as the metal floor beneath his feet.

"I'm allowed visitors today?" he asked wearily.

"A special exception from the Commander," Nicol explained as his coffee brown eyes surveyed the dark room. Athrun could feel those eyes travel to the bandage wrapped securely around his temples before they finally settled on his face. "They found more information about that woman who attacked you." Athrun winced at that. Now she had become 'the woman who had attacked him', while she had really been the victim of his own ignorance.

"What about her…?"

His response was reluctant. Did he need to know more than that he had caused her death, really?

"They searched her body," Rusty spoke up from behind Nicol, frowning awkwardly as he did, "and they found this…"

He flipped a large coin at Athrun. It sailed through the air sluggishly and he caught it by reflex. He turned the flat, blue disc over in his palm slowly. His eyes widened as his they took in the symbol engraved on the dull metal. A cosmos flower. Suddenly, his heart felt covered in ice.

"Since she gave you her real name, they were able to trace her identity," Nicol elaborated. "She wasn't from the Earth Military as we first suspected. She was part of an independent faction, a Blue Cosmos fanatic."

Athrun felt sick. He wanted to throw the coin as far away as possible, as if it had abruptly changed into a poisonous snake, but he forced himself to rise calmly. He handed it back to Rusty without looking at it again. Suddenly it was harder for Athrun to meet their eyes. Did they consider him a traitor for trying to help a terrorist escape? If they did, he rightfully deserved it – for acting without thinking.

"Still, isn't it kind of harsh of Commander Klueze to put you in here for a whole week?" Rusty remarked with a low whistle.

"Rusty…!" Nicol exclaimed, aghast at their flame-haired fellow for bringing up a subject he obviously thought was tactless to discuss at the moment. Athrun carefully kept his face blank of expression.

"Yzak's in a real tizzy about not being able to rub your face in it," Rusty went on, unfazed by Nicol's protests, "you being confined to the brig and all…" He added a crooked smile to soften the comment. "Dearka's got his hands full, as usual. But seriously, just for going after an enemy spy on your own! You were trying to neutralize the threat as quickly as possible, right?" He shifted his shoulders in a noncommittal shrug. "Heck, I'd probably have done the same!"

So. The Commander had decided to keep Athrun's mistake a secret. He did not know whether he felt relieved or disappointed. The lump inside his stomach was strangely heavier as Nicol and Rusty left the chamber. Just as the door sliding shut behind them was a barrier between him and his comrades, this secret would act as an invisible barrier between them. Though they would still serve on the same team, Athrun felt farther from them than ever before. Lowering himself back onto the cool metallic surface of the floor, he pressed his face to his knees and closed his eyes.

He felt completely alone.

Author's Note: I've taken some liberties concerning the Blue Cosmos, but I figured it was more interesting that way.