Author Note: This is a shorter first chapter than I expected it to be. O_o


Yzak Joule grappled with the top clasp on his ZAFT uniform, cursing when he missed it for the third time. This wasn't good. He needed his head; he couldn't afford to get tired or distracted. He had collapsed immediately and slept for three hours and now it was time to act. He should have known they would never get past the first level of security….

He clicked the clasp into place.

He and Dearka had flown unnoticed for half the journey back, their ragged mobile suits drifting undetected past the wreckage of Jachin Due. But that was as far as their luck had extended.

Yzak buckled on his stiff white belt as he thought back over the incident, and then gritted his teeth at the clock on the bedside table. He had managed to get Dearka inside the PLANTs, at least. He hadn't been stupid enough to take even that accomplishment for granted. He had five minutes left by the digital clock face, and then he could go see what it all had come to.

They'd been surrounded almost immediately upon nearing PLANT territory — by a rugged band of ZAFT mobile suits and a partial fleet of warships. The commander of the fleet had been jumpy and tired sounding. Now, in the privacy of his room, Yzak released an ironic laugh at the depleted show of force the incomplete fleet had presented. It was the wrong time for ZAFT to be showing weakness — after such a battle they ought to remain strong — but Yzak had known enough to refrain from saying so when he was still inside the Duel. Instead, he'd offered up identification when it was demanded. They'd confirmed him, but been less than happy to see he'd brought back some sort of refugee in the Buster's battered cockpit….

Yzak had lied his ass off to the ZAFT military. He'd needed to get back inside the PLANTs and see what was happening; he'd needed to get Dearka somewhere safe before Dearka was recognized, and yet… fate had still been unwilling to make the task easy. Yzak reached to the footwear sprawled on his floor. He tugged on one white boot, then the other, glancing again at the bedside clock.

"Of the Le Creuset team, was it?"

"Yes, sir."

"And in the other machine?"

"The member of the legged ship's crew that was piloting it. I thought it might be prudent to recapture this machine for ZAFT, even if at the moment it's no longer fit for operation."

"So you've taken the pilot as well."

"I will claim full responsibility for the situation, sir."

"Taking the mobile suit was a shrewd move, but considering the standstill that we've been forced into, taking hostages may not be the best idea. The Earth Forces have not formally retreated."

"I'm aware of that. I had no intentions of holding the pilot hostage or filing him as a POW when I captured his mobile suit. We can treat him like a refugee."

"You don't have the authority to make that kind of distinction, and neither do we. We'll run it by headquarters. For now, we'll have to hold that suit's pilot at the docks."

And so Dearka had been detained, while Yzak himself was given full clearance, and provided immediately with access to a barracks room in which to rest, shower, and don a clean red uniform. After some argument, he'd been granted permission to re-enter the docking bay after four hours had elapsed; the Buster was being detained there, and protocol required at least a few hours of inspection before access was allowed to outsiders.

Yzak stared at the clock until his eyes began to water. Two more minutes, and then he could make his way down….

But Yzak was no fool. By then it might be too late. If any official discovered that it was Dearka Elsman they held in check, when last anyone knew Elsman was supposed to be a prisoner of the Earth Forces, or dead…. Yzak would be punished for lying, but Dearka's fate would be worse. Dearka had turned traitor, and no one did that without facing severe consequences. Yzak's only hope was that ZAFT was in such a state of chaos after the GENESIS mess that personnel with real authority and knowledge would be too busy to investigate the Buster's pilot. Still, this was the Coordinator military, and not a force to be underestimated….

To hell with it.

Yzak barreled out of the barracks room a minute early, readjusting his sleeve cuffs as he strode briskly through the halls. He needed to have faith in Dearka, that was all. Hopefully, the blond had learned something in all his time away from ZAFT forces; Yzak liked to believe the blond had become shrewder, better at keeping secrets. But of course, he hadn't clapped eyes on Dearka for months. Not until they'd faced off at the Mendel Colony. He had given Dearka Elsman up for dead. Who could guess what the blond would do after so much had changed?

Yzak slowed his pace in the hall, as once again reality threatened to hit him and his torrent of determination showed signs of abating. No — he couldn't let that happen. It wasn't over, it was nowhere near over, and there was no room for doubt or anxiety. He'd only just made it back to Aprilius One, and there was so much he didn't know yet…. What of the Council, of Canaver and her cohorts? Where was his mother, Ezalia Joule, and what penalty did she face for her allegiance to the Chairman that had tried to destroy every Natural that lived? Yzak needed to check on Dearka, do what he could… then he needed to leave the military port and head for the center of the PLANT, where the higher officials would be making new arrangements and trying to compensate for war losses. He'd get his answers there.

But for now… Dearka….

"Yzak. Yzak Joule." A female voice called his name; there were suddenly footsteps behind him.

Yzak whirled to take in the appearance of the interruption. He saw first the standard red uniform of the elites, ironed to a crisp and worn conventionally. She was expressionless, nondescript, formal, and she possessed an attitude and approach unlikely to induce headaches or provoke disorder after long periods of exposure. Yzak gave her a quick salute. At least it was no one too irritable.

"Shiho Hahnenfuss," he said. He turned again to proceed down the hall, knowing that she would follow him. He had fought beside her during a brief period on the Vesalius. The Le Creuset Team had found its members much depleted after Nicol's death, Dearka's disappearance, and Athrun Zala's transfer, and so Shiho had been sent to the front lines to make up for lost talent. When Yzak had been given command of his own squad for a brief period toward the end of the fighting, he had hand picked Shiho as a member. But he'd never taken the time to learn anything other than the statistics that highlighted her abilities with a mobile suit. They walked a few steps in silence. Shiho's chestnut hair trailed out behind her as she hurried to keep up.

"Eileen Canaver and the other council members request your immediate presence," she said after a moment. Yzak considered the information, glad that Shiho knew how to get to the point, but he said nothing. The Council could wait. They rounded a corner and followed the signs that pointed toward the docking bay.

Shiho was silent a moment longer, but after a few more steps, she piped up a second time. "This isn't the way to the Council meeting room, you know." Her flat tone said she had already determined his intention to disobey orders and did not approve.

Yzak scoffed at her frown. "I wasn't aware they had ZAFT reds running errands for the higher ups. There's something else that requires my immediate attention, Hahnenfuss. You can run back and relate that message or you can make yourself useful by telling me what's happened to Ezalia Joule."

Shiho's disparaging frown lifted somewhat, replaced by a lesser frown of puzzlement. Whatever piqued her curiosity, she refrained from asking about — out of respect, Yzak liked to think. Any decent ZAFT soldier was expected to avoid nosiness regarding their fellows and commanders. One didn't ask questions unless they were constructive, or relevant to an objective. Let Shiho analyze him; Yzak would offer her no further explanation of his intentions. He smirked inwardly and waited for her information.

"Ezalia Joule has been put under house arrest."

He mastered his discomfort upon hearing the news. "Is that all?"

"No. It's been declared that you are not allowed to see her under any circumstances until you report to the Council." Shiho kept her eyes straight ahead.

Yzak cursed aloud, unable to help himself. It seemed the Council had already predicted his main course of action upon reaching the PLANTs. So be it, and damn them all. He'd simply readjust. It didn't matter when he saw his mother, as long as she was safe. Ezalia Joule was strong, and house arrest would not hold a woman of his mother's caliber back for long. This gave Yzak more leave to take care of Dearka, so it was by no means a reason to lose his composure. He rounded another corner with Shiho and fixed his eyes on the guarded doors at the end of the next hallway.

"Am I to accompany you to the docking bay?" Shiho asked, slowing her pace and respectfully stepping behind him.

"Unnecessary," he responded. Shiho stopped walking and Yzak continued on.

The girl called hesitantly from behind him. "I suppose you don't want me to tell the Council where you went instead of reporting to them?"

Yzak answered without turning back. "You're clever, Hahnenfuss." Her heard her boots clicking off in retreat as he neared the guards at the door. "Yzak Joule, requesting to see the detainee that came in with me earlier."

They let him in without much questioning. Yzak entered the sliding doors and emerged into a world of bustling mechanical activity. He strode down the pedestrian path at the edge of the docking arena, past long, iron extensions where incoming ships were secured while minor repairs and resupplying took place. Crew disembarked for meetings with the Council, or lounged about in the few areas blocked off for recreational purposes. Small work vehicles zipped to and fro on the ground between vessels, carrying mechanics or military officials, but more often than not they drove laden with spare parts and rations. Yzak watched a last-minute inspection taking place on Dock Twelve, where a Laurasia class ship was preparing for take-off.

Everyone moved with purpose, with confidence. Yzak knew that all men and women with duties on Aprilius One's docking bay worked at a high efficiency rate; the home PLANT of the Supreme Council would accept nothing less. Yzak scanned the area, squinting at the sparks that flew where a team of welders crouched, repairing the side of a dropship, and then he found what he was looking for.

The mobile suits were docked in the far distance, row upon row of them, lined up before a series of garages where they could be taken in one at a time for repairs or custom jobs. For an instant, Yzak was surprised to see mostly GINNs. Then he remembered that he was on the PLANTs, in space, and the machines he'd grown accustomed to docking with in places like Carpentaria and Gibraltar would be useless in space combat. It was strange to be home after so long, but he was grateful. He scanned a stretch of GINNs as he walked — Tactical Air Reconnaissance types equipped with Mirage Colloid systems, Long Range Reconnaissance types, High Maneuver types and Trainers. But where was the Duel? The Buster? Yzak frowned, reassuring himself that their mobile suits would be taken care of. Perhaps they were already being worked on inside one of the garages, or had been transported to a separate hangar for more intense repairs….

Yzak neared the opposite end of the pedestrian walkway. Two iron arches marked the entrance to a series of rooms and temporary holding facilities that honeycombed themselves in their own corner of the docking area. Sometimes ZAFT used them to house refugees, or to put up soldiers on nights when the barracks experienced an overflow of personnel. Occasionally they were made into makeshift emergency rooms, when casualties were severe enough that making it to a real hospital was impossible. More rarely, the rooms had been used to detain prisoners of war or ill-behaved ZAFT soldiers while the Council figured out what to do with them. Yzak passed beneath one of the arches and to a window where an attendant waited with an electronic directory to assist visitors. As he reached her, he heard his name called.

"You must be Yzak Joule? I believe you're looking for the pilot you brought back with you? Please allow me to be of immediate assistance."

Yzak looked the man over once, and his insides went cold. The silver head had never seen the speaker before; he was tall and fair-haired with glasses and a thin mustache, but he was unmistakably dressed in the navy blue uniform of the Supreme Council.

Yzak wiped his face clean of emotion and saluted. "Sir, assistance would be greatly appreciated. With whom do I have the honor of speaking?"

"I'm Jack Andres, and I've worked alongside your mother on the Council more than once. It's a pleasure, Yzak." Andres began walking, and Yzak followed him through the maze of whitewashed halls and rooms. "You've heard about Ezalia's house arrest, I would assume? It's… regrettable, but until we reach a state of stability here in the PLANTs, I'm afraid there's not much hope of changing the situation. They think your mother may still want to uphold Patrick Zala's ideals, you see." Andres peered at him, but Yzak refrained from offering a reply. Did Andres mean to separate himself from those that believed his mother had ill intentions?

Within moments, Andres was knocking at a door fit with iron bars across its window. Yzak blinked. Not here, surely…?

The door swung open, and they were greeted by a petty officer in a green coat. "Councilman Andres, Mr. Joule. We've spent the past four hours attempting to debrief the detainee."

"And?" Andres inquired.

"He refused to cooperate in giving us details, but in the end it made no difference. The one piece of information he did provide us with was his name, which is quite enough to go by, and I trust that you two will want to take over after you discovery his identity."

Yzak stood frozen in the hallway. No, it couldn't be possible that Dearka had given up his true identity….

"His name is?" Jack Andres demanded impatiently.

"He's Dearka Elsman, sir — son of Councilman Tad Elsman and former member of the Le Creuset team, recorded as MIA after a battle with the Earth Alliance Forces on an island outside the Tropic of Cancer."

"Good grief," Andres said. "Is that—? Then, he piloted his mobile suit for the enemy? Councilman Lambert is not going to like this…." But Yzak Joule was no longer listening to Andres or the green-clad soldier. He pushed his way inside the holding room.

"Dearka!"

The blond looked up from the chair he was bound to, finding Yzak from beneath matted bangs and grinning around a bruise that bloomed from his lip to his jaw. "Yzak, about time."

Yzak glanced hurriedly at the doorway, where the green-coat had begun to speak again. "What's going on here? Your name, why did you—?" But too soon Andres was coming in the door himself, to see the detainee. Yzak clapped his mouth shut and stood at attention, heart beating a tattoo that he feared would echo through the empty holding chamber.

"Well, this is certainly unexpected," Andres began slowly, nearing Dearka and squinting down at him in disbelief. Yzak risked a glance at Dearka as well. The blond still sported his flight suit; it was caked with blood and sweat. The bandages on his head that had been put there by the Archangel's medical team boasted a red tint now, and needed to be changed, badly. Dark circles ringed his eyes…. When was the last time Dearka had slept? The blond Buster pilot had come in directly from the aftermath of battle, exhausted and uninformed, but they had neither let him shower nor allowed him to sleep….

"ZAFT was under the impression that the Earth Forces had captured your machine from you," Andres addressed the blond, and Yzak bit his lip to keep silent. "Now it's become clear that they captured you as well… alive… and you went turncoat? You piloted your machine for the enemy forces? You fought against ZAFT."

Yzak looked away, his hands closing into fists. He sensed Dearka flinch.

"How did they manage to sway you, Mr. Elsman? Or did you not have a choice in the matter? After all, the Buster was originally their machine…. Perhaps they forced you to pilot it? Took advantage of your Coordinator abilities? For your sake, I would hope that was the case."

Andres waited patiently, but when Dearka offered nothing, the officer in green stepped forward to land him a blow to the face. "Even if you're no longer loyal to us, you ought to show some respect and answer the Councilman."

"Stop!" Yzak cried, moving half a step in Dearka's direction before he could help himself. It was all his fault, for bringing Dearka here without a plan….

"Yes — physical violence is unnecessary," Andres said with a frown. "Now, Yzak — Elsman was a teammate of yours, and I would imagine a friend. You must be relieved to find him alive, whatever the circumstances."

Yzak could not meet the man's spectacled gaze. He averted his eyes and his response left him a whisper. "Yes."

"Well then, the situation is settled for now." Andres waved a hand to dismiss the green-coated officer. "Yzak Joule, you are in charge of the detainee until I can alert the Council of these proceedings. See to his care." Yzak nodded, and Jack Andres moved to the door. "And for the love of ZAFT, please remember to report to Eileen Canaver." He left.

Yzak released the breath he had been holding.

Dearka stirred. "Yzak…."

Yzak moved to free the blond from his bonds. "Shut up," he said, as he took the knotted ropes in his hands with his whole body trembling. "Just shut up for now, Dearka."