Inspired by a bowl of Ipoh Assam Laksa and home-cooked soup. Just hope Elijah and Goud are still OK...

Disclaimer: GS,GS Astray and all of the C.E era belonged to their respective owners,not me.

Assam Laksa

"Do we have all the ingredients we need?"

"Um…Lemongrass, Ginger buds, 'lengkuas', mint, onion, tamarind slices, cucumber…I think we'd them all!"

At 1st glance, anyone would have mistaken the room as a small kitchen, with the chef at the main stove and his 3 assistants running around to prepare the ingredients. That was, until they saw the neatly-stacked pile of mattress and pillows on top of the wardrobe.

"And don't forget the air freshener"

Heine reminded the guys while he boiled some thick rice noodles. At the main stove (a mini portable electric stove on the floor) was Miguel, stirring a pot of soup, while Goud helped him prepare the herbs and spices and Elijah mashed the poached mackerel meat into flakes.

For every cadet in the ZAFT Military Academy, Graduation Day was the most glorious and special occasion. Therefore, it was only right that they celebrate it in the most special way.

"…are you sure it'll turn out fine…?"

Miguel gave the younger Coordinator a wide (slightly mischievous) grin, confidently pouring in the spices as he simmered the soup.

"Elijah, have faith in me, the protégé of the 'Laksa Master'."

"Yea, you only had a 1-hour crash-course lesson with him yesterday, Mr. Protege. And not to mention, the 'master' himself is still an apprentice under his mom."

"Hey, the genius protégé will surpass his master, y'know."

"Certainly not you. Or you'd been a Red."

"Man, can you 2 stop attacking my creds?"

Miguel gave the 2 Redcoats a dirty look, which Goud promptly ignored; Heine about to slap more remarks on him when Elijah interrupted.

"Guys! Sources from Block A saw Steelface walking towards our block!"

"What?! I thought he was on leave!"

"He haunts the Academy grounds, Heine."

"Just a lil' more… Set! Throw in the fish meat flakes, add a peppermint leaf—ta –da- our very own homemade Assam Laksa ready to be served!"

"And I as their Instructor should be proud of my trainees for such a warm welcome!"

Immediately, four ghostly faces, paled with fear, greeted the tall, burly, sinister man, in an instructor's uniform.

"From the looks of the situation, you 4 have broken almost every dormitory regulation from A to Z, Code 1 to 0, and I hereby shall have the authority to confiscate everything within this area that is deemed as contraband within the Academy premises."

Seeing that the 4 were finally wordless, the instructor smirked.

"Any last words, troublemakers?"

"Sir…"

The instructor turned towards the youngest cadet. Suddenly, in front of his nose, was a bowl of warm noodles with soup.

"This is our very own homemade Assam Laksa. We hope that you will like it sir."

"Please accept it, sir. As a gift of gratitude from us cadets, for all your guidance and teachings,"

"And also your training that made us men with confidence and knowledge."

In unison, all four yelled.

"PLEASE ACCEPT OUR MOST SINCERE GIFT SIR!"

Almost in an instance, the whole block's residents were all wide awake and crowded around their room, curious about the yell that jolted them from sleep. And almost immediately, all froze at the sight of the fiercest instructor, looking quite lost with a bowl of noodles in his hands in front of 4 starry-eye cadets.

"Ka-chak"

All eyes turned to a cadet holding a 3-G cellphone, the image already saved to his folder.

"Oh no, the Instructor is accepting bribe!"

With that, the cadet turned and disappeared in a puff of dust.

"!!"

Before the instructor could even muster a word, someone pushed him out of the room as the electronic door slide shut, nearly scraping his nose. Suddenly, the whole place was silent as a ghost town. Indeed, there was not even a single trace of the crowd present just a few seconds ago. The instructor looked at the empty corridor, then back at the bowl of warm noodles in his hand. Oh well, might as well take it as supper. Surely those 4 won't plan to poison him, or he can still skin them alive tomorrow as live entertainment. And that cheeky fellow with the cell phone better NOT post his picture online, or he'll roast him golden brown. Red Coat or not.

The instructor took a mouthful. Surprisingly, it IS delicious. If only he could fail them all and force them into food biz. But failing 2 of the top 3 cadets meant failing the whole batch, and his superiors will NOT be happy. The instructor, nicknamed 'Steelface', sighed. This war is definitely wasting off lots of potential talents who could benefit the nations' other sectors. Especially the food and beverage sector.