Disclaimer: The characters and situations of Galaxy Angel are the creation of and property of Kanan and are used here without permission. This story may be freely distributed, but it should not be altered or used for profit.

Of Ends and Means

By Megami no Senshi Yami

"The end excuses any evil"

Sophocles

Ever since its appearance on the orbit of planet Transbaal, the White Moon has been regarded as many things. From a miracle and a gift of the Heavens to a symbol of peace and a beacon of hope.

Those who know better would say something different. That the White Moon's true nature is far more related to science than religion—to facts than faith. They would say it is a defensive satellite and a weapon's factory.

Finally, there are those who chose to remain in silence knowing that the truth is somewhere between the two.

The bespectacled man lifted up the bloodstained gloves and discarded them in the waste bin with a loud noise. Then, he adjusted his pure-white coat and cleaned the sweat from his forehead; all with the calmness of a professional for whom this kind of task was as natural as breathing.

Next to him a lifeless body was resting in silence on a metal slab. It had an open and empty chest cavity with the flaps open at both sides; the top of the skull was missing and both arms and legs were slit open. Nonetheless, the abnormally pale skin along with the "peaceful" expression of the face made it look more like a bisque doll rather than the remains of a once living being.

Another man, dressed with a--rather pompous--military uniform leaned forward from the opposite side of the examination table and carefully scanned the body. His lips curved in a gesture that denoted disappointment, effectively breaking his callous expression for a moment. Then, he gave a short sigh and shook his head. "What was the employed disposal method, Doctor?"

"A Lethal Injection, Sir" the Doctor replied swiftly.

The man nodded slightly. "I suppose that having reached this point it doesn't truly have any significance" he shrugged nonchalantly before demanding. "Your report, please"

Burying his hands into his pockets the Doctor started. "After the armed conflict against the so-called "Legitimate Transbaal Empire Armed Forces" the Subject 017TCY417 started to display symptoms commonly associated with Posttraumatic Stress Disorder—such as lack of sleep, food and--most importantly--isolation" he paused for a second before finishing.

"Therefore we concluded that the best course of action would be to dispose of the Subject 017TCY417 and re-initiate the Process"

"I see…" the man scratched his chin thoughtfully. "And wasn't there any other way to deal with it?" he waved his hand casually before pointing an accusing finger. "As you already know, Doctor, this termination was executed quite before the originally scheduled date"

Unfazed, the Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Psychotherapy is an overly long process, without mentioning the fact the success is not guaranteed" he replied firmly. "Moreover the body was already showing signs of deterioration" he motioned with his head towards a large shelf behind him filled with several small glass vessels. "It was only a matter of time, General"

The General looked at the vessels. They all contained body organs and it seemed that up to the last one was present. From the heart and the stomach to the liver and the brain; each one was submerged in a luminescent blue liquid that surely provided the doctors with a better view of them. Needless to say—and with his lack of experience in the area--the General found this detail to add to his disgust.

"I understand" he nodded slowly. "Still, I hope you would also understand, Doctor, that our current situation is critical—to say the least—and we need the Subject to be ready as soon as possible" he informed stiffly.

The Doctor took out his glasses and started to clean them. "Ten days, Sir" he informed plainly.

"That is too long" swiftly objected the General.

"I'm afraid--" the Doctor put back his glasses. "That it is the minimum lapse of time in order to ensure the complete success of the Process"

Beats of silence followed and with no other objection than a soft grunt, the General accepted the circumstances with dignity, taking a step back which the Doctor—correctly—interpreted as an invitation to finish his job.

And so, the General watched in silence as the Doctor quickly and precisely closed and stitched all the cavities he had opened before. He then proceeded to move the metal slab and introduce it inside of a medium-sized, container-like structure.

A cremator furnace.

"I believe you have requested to do this yourself" the Doctor motioned a hand towards the furnace.

"That is correct" affirmed the General and without any delays he pressed a small red button causing the body inside to be instantly engulfed in a burst of flames. "This is nothing more than a transition from a stage to another; like a phoenix which must first be reduced to ashes before rebirthing into a new and far more splendorous form" he quoted solemnly.

Thru a small window the two men watched in silence as the remaining ashes were cleaned until not even the smallest particle of dust remained. Failure isn't something people like to recognize and much less admit—and when you've reached the point it is no longer an option, no means seem to be sufficient to achieve success.

"Have you ever felt anything remotely similar to regret in your actions, Doctor?" inquired the General out of mere curiosity.

"I believe that the consequences of our actions are far more important than the means we employ, Sir" the Doctor replied coolly.

Impressed, the General curled his lower lip and noted. "A fine posture of consequentialism"

Deeming their task as finished, the two men left the room making their way thru the perpetually silent halls of the White Moon.

END