For anyone looking for actual action in terms of mobile suit combat from this story, here's some. Well, kind of. [smiles sheepishly] Yes, I know, this story is building fairly slowly. I'm afraid that's not going to get any better any time soon. But please bear with me. Char et al. aren't going to be sneaking around doing nothing forever.

Pointless Disclaimer: I OWN GUNDAM! April Fools.

/**/

"…and it is with great sorrow, but equal necessity, that the Earth Federation Assembly has voted in favor of surrender…"

Bright struggled to keep his eyes dry, but Fraw Bow didn't bother; the commander could hear her weeping at the communications console. He could not see Mirai's expression, but her shaking head was enough to tell him that she couldn't believe what she was hearing. Marker's muttering could be heard cursing the Federation Assembly from Dakar to Beijing; glancing back, Bright caught sight of Job John praying. Perhaps, he thought bitterly, that was the wisest action of all; it was likely to be the most helpful.

Bright glanced back up at the screen, where the politician droned on about the Federation's history of service to mankind; most likely he was protesting to Gihren that the Federation government could be useful to him if he allowed its members to live, although Bright didn't doubt that many of those members had already bargained their way into Zeon society. "Someone turn that thing off," he grumbled, reaching up to hold his head in his hands. "I don't think I can take much more." Marker must have done it from his station, because the muttering grew in intensity as the required button was pressed (no doubt with a good deal of violence).

"So it's… over, then?"

Bright turned his attention to Fraw, who had calmed down enough to speak coherently. "Over?" he repeated. "Of course not. Nothing's over until you stop trying or get killed. Neither of those things has happened yet, Fraw. We can't give up now." The commander had a terrible feeling that his voice betrayed his lack of faith in his words.

Mirai took Bright's encouragement as orders, however. "Setting a course for Side 6," she intoned, drawing a sharp glance from Bright, who had yet to actually give any such command. At length, though, he sighed.

"We won't get far alone," he muttered. "Fraw, contact the flagship for support. Be sure to keep them from learning where we're headed, in case they—"

"I'm sorry, sir, but we just received orders from Dakar to await Zeon technical officers at Luna II," the girl interrupted. "We're being ordered to fall back into line. I don't think they'll listen to us."

The commander sighed again. "Try anyway. Use a fleet-wide frequency, in case someone else chooses to follow us on their own."

Fraw nodded. "Yes, sir."

Bright leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes against the inevitable. After a moment, though, he steeled himself and activated the ship-wide public address system. "All pilots, stand by. The White Base is currently leaving the fleet."

Mirai turned toward Bright sharply at this. "You're ordering them to fight the fleet?"

Bright eyed the woman. "I hope they don't have to fight at all." Moving his gaze to the space outside the bridge windows, he murmured, "It will all depend on the fleet's reaction."

/**/

'They turned their backs on them,' Amuro thought darkly as he strapped himself into the Gundam once more. 'Ryu, Miss Matilda, Lieutenant Woody… Captain Paolo, Admiral Wakkein, General Revil—the Federation has betrayed them all.' Closing the cockpit hatch, the pilot announced, "Gundam, standing by."

"C-108, standing by," came the voice of Kai Shiden soon after. He sounded almost as angry as Amuro felt; of course, Miharu's loss still weighed on him. Sayla called out next, with Hayato close behind. After that… silence. Amuro reminded himself for the hundredth time that Sleggar Law wouldn't be with them for any more sorties—another life lost, another disrespected memory.

"Confirmed. Relax while you can." Fraw's voice was tired, pained; it was a verbal echo of the depression Amuro could feel flooding the ship, spiking sometimes in anger like his own, but more generally festering in the minds of the crew who had no opportunity to lash out.

Closing his eyes for a moment, the pilot cast his mind into the past, remembering the lives lost even as he wondered why. It was the question that formed the basis of the war: Was it worth all of those lives, on both sides, to attain independence? Most patriotic Zeon citizens would immediately answer yes, of course; their leader, who was less interested in independence than he was in the dominance of humanity, was hardly worthy of answering the question at all. But General Revil, and due to his efforts the rest of the Earth Federation, had answered firmly no, that lives were not a price worth paying for something that could be gained without spending them. Under General Revil, that argument had guided the entire Federation through a year of unrelenting warfare; the moment that the guiding force of the war disappeared, therefore, it was almost a given that the remainder of high command would quickly lose its way. And, like sheep to the slaughter, there was little doubt that the majority of high command's subordinates—including the fleet currently surrounding the White Base—would follow their incompetent commanders to the end.

As if on cue, Fraw's voice interrupted Amuro's thoughts. "Five GMs approaching from starboard-aft. Amuro, Kai, try to delay them without actually shooting at them, if you can. They aren't technically the enemy, after all."

Amuro nodded. "Will do," he said, forcing more confidence into his voice than he felt. "Gundam, launching!"

/**/

Despite his anger, Kai felt almost giddy as his Guncannon raced to intercept the incoming GMs, and he was hardly ashamed to admit it. His mischievous nature had been partially stifled by military discipline over the previous few months, but it was returning to the fore now that his entire crew was attempting to reject authority. Although the pilot knew the seriousness of the stakes and the solemnity of the White Base's new predicament, he could not help but smile as he approached the speeding GM suits that were attempting to overtake his ship.

"C-108 Gu—annon, stand—side or retur—your vessel. C-108, d—you read? Get out of—"

"You know this suit outperforms yours two-to-one, right?" Kai interrupted. "You're not in the right equipment to be bossing me around."

The lead GM visibly jerked at this rebuttal, before raising his rifle. "Are y—part of the mutiny—that Pegasus-class?"

Kai shook his head in disgust. 'If I wasn't, would I be out here?' he thought to himself. Aloud he said, "If you consider using common sense to be a mutiny, then… yeah, I'm part of the mutiny."

The GMs were slowing down now, preparing to surround Kai's Guncannon. This meant that Kai was doing his job perfectly, but he couldn't help but be nervous at the firepower being leveled at him. He also noticed, to his dismay, that several nearby Salamis-class vessels were making their way toward the White Base; a lone mobile suit could not expect to deflect even one warship without actually sinking it, and Kai really didn't want to start firing at Federation forces. "Come on, now, is this really—"

"You—ll come wi—us, C-108. Your violation—regulations cannot be—"

Although Kai hadn't been paying attention from the start of the leader's speech (being more interested in, and nervous about, the rapidly-retreating White Base), he was just as quick as the GM leader to react to a proximity sensor alarm, moving forward to engage the leader in a grappling match as Amuro's Gundam appeared from seemingly nowhere to crash shield-first into one of the other GMs, sending it sprawling. It quickly recovered, but its main camera and targeting systems were destroyed, and apparently the pilot didn't dare to fire a shot at a target that was surrounded by friendlies with only the auxiliary video data. Meanwhile, Amuro had knocked another GM out of the way with a well-placed kick to the cockpit, possibly knocking the pilot unconscious for the moment. Kai, on the other hand, was fighting a veteran pilot with a machine that was not built for maneuverability, and he could only hold his own as long as he kept a hold on his opponent's GM. Desperate to keep the advantage, Kai ignored Fraw's request to keep the guns silent and brought one of his shoulder-mounted cannons to bear on the GM's faceplate and main camera. The concussion from the blast knocked the GM away from the Guncannon's grasp, and Kai immediately turned his attention to the remaining two GMs. Both of these had already turned around to run; Amuro caught one of the two in the booster pack with his thrown shield, however, damaging enough of the equipment to minimize the suit's propulsion. The Gundam quickly caught up, wrapping its arm around the GM's head as Amuro aimed a punch at the booster pack, severing a critical connection—as far as Kai could tell, anyway. Whatever had been done, the GM's propulsion system was rendered inoperable, and the suit's thrashing ended when Kai came up to assist Amuro in restraining it. "What do you want to do, drag it back to the White Base?"

As the Gundam briefly took off to retrieve its shield (prompting some more futile thrashing from the GM), Amuro replied, "I s—pose we might as well. I don't real—know what I was plan—to do, other than immobilize—"

"Whatever we do, it's got to be fast. The White Base is leaving us behind, and there are bound to be more suits after us while we're out here." Even as he spoke, Kai was adding as much boost as he could to his thrusters, trying to go as fast as possible toward his vessel while dragging a protesting suit along.

"We'll get back, don't worry about that," said Amuro as the Gundam latched onto the GM once again. "The problem is going to be after that, getting away from these ships before we get to… where we're going," he finished vaguely, for the benefit of the captured (and eavesdropping) GM pilot.

Kai glanced around. "Yeah," he muttered, "good luck with that."

/**/

Luck, it seemed, sided with the White Base. Less than an hour after pursuit began, during which time none of the Salamis-class vessels had bothered to fire a shot, a laser signal from Luna II cut off the chase. As Fraw said when she intercepted the message, "They're more willing to explain a mutiny of one ship to Zeon than try to explain why seven other ships had to follow us far enough to be absent from their 'inspection.'"

Bright merely nodded at this, but he was taking no chances. "Mirai, we will make certain that they have really given up pursuit before making our way to Side 6. Correct our course toward L1, for now." As Mirai did as she was told, the commander glanced at Fraw. "Recall Kai and Hayato"—Amuro had returned after his 'battle'—"and launch Sayla to keep an eye out. Have Amuro on standby in case she finds anything."

"Yes, sir," Fraw replied over her shoulder. "C-108, C-109…"

Bright turned toward the bridge window, which showed Earth coming closer and closer; a day or so, and they would be gliding by. It was still a beautiful sight, but the commander was filled with bitterness upon viewing his home. 'To think that we're turning our backs on each other…' he thought to himself. Then he shook his head grimly. 'No, we're still fighting for Earth, and its people. If anyone turned their backs on Earth, the first to blame are the politicians and commanders at Dakar.'

Gritting his teeth, Bright forced his eyes away from the blue globe and turned toward the map of the Earth Sphere to his left. The White Base's current course, adjusted toward L1, was clearly shown, but the commander eyed L4 more steadily. Side 6 would probably see very little reason to welcome them; indeed, after the White Base's last visit, Bright had the feeling that the Side 6 government would prefer to see the ship sunk. But there was little other option. Hiding anywhere else would put them directly under the control of one or the other faction, making stealth that much more difficult. And Side 6 also contained a fairly high-ranking ally: Cameron Bloom. Although Bright had hoped never to see the man again, he knew that the White Base could use all the help it could get at this point, and would therefore refuse no offer of aid.

"Sir, the visual scanners are picking up lights ahead," came Job's voice from above. "Ships launching from Earth, most likely."

"They're probably making their way to Luna II for the Zeon inspection," Bright muttered. "Can we avoid them?"

"Yes, sir, if they continue on their present course. It should take at least six hours to reach them as it is."

The commander nodded to himself. "Calculate the needed course corrections," he ordered. "We'll need to be far enough out of their range to avoid Minovsky particle detection."

"Yes, s— IFF laser signal detected, seven o'clock!"

Bright turned sharply. "What is it?" he demanded.

"Federation, Salamis-class, sir." Job's voice sounded confused. "The distance is too great to commence ship-to-ship combat, even with the minimum Minovsky particle interference. They can't be here to attack us, or they wouldn't have given away their location."

"They could be acting as a decoy," Bright speculated. "Keep a lookout for incoming contacts from any direction! Fraw Bow, tell Sayla to watch out for a sneak attack from any other angle." The commander glanced at the data being sent to the bridge floor. "If they report our position to the incoming ships from Earth, we'll need to make a break for it. Be prepared."

A tense moment passed in silence. Then Fraw Bow turned sharply. "Sir, incoming laser transmission from the Salamis!"

Bright blinked. "Laser transmission? What do they want to keep encrypted?" The commander shook his head. "Read it, please."

Fraw brought the decoded message to eye level. "'Pegasus-class White Base, this is Salamis-class Argos. Requesting to cooperate with you. Please respond.' Nothing else, sir."

The bridge crew glanced at Bright, waiting for his decision. Finally he ordered, "Ask them what they want."

The reply was quick in coming. "They say they want to kill Zekes, sir."

Bright scoffed. "They sound a bit brash to me. But if they want to help… I suppose it can't hurt. Tell them to follow us. Don't tell them where we're going." The commander paused. Then he added, "Tell them to come alongside, to make communications easier. And make them turn that IFF signal off, or they'll tell everyone from here to the moon where we are."

As Fraw did as she was ordered, Mirai turned to Bright. "You don't trust them, do you?"

"Not really," Bright admitted, his eyes narrowed in thought. "After all, we're running for our lives. 'Killing Zekes' isn't on our list of priorities at the moment." The commander shook his head. "Hasn't there been enough killing already?"

/**/

Jenna Heidfeld sighed for the millionth time, and reminded herself once again that it could have been worse.

It was true, to be sure: She could have been killed, either during her run-in with the Gundam or during her sortie at the Battle of Solomon. Really, she was luckier than most soldiers in her predicament. Even if destiny or whatever had demanded that she spend time as a prisoner, it had been very kind to make her a prisoner of a Federation ship; after all, she was at war with Zeon, so her current captors had little reason to treat her harshly. And even with all the excitement, the crew hadn't forgotten about her, either. She was still being fed, at least.

It really could have been worse. But that statement alone didn't change the fact that Jenna had been confined to a cell smaller than her cabin aboard the Rio Grande, with no apparent date of release. She was fairly certain that the crew of the White Base had no idea what to do with her, either. Basically, she was stuck, and would remain that way for the foreseeable future.

Needless to say, this left Jenna with a lot of time on her hands, and no idea on how to spend it.

'This is not what I expected when the recruiter told me that I'd get alone-time as often as I needed it,' she thought as she turned over on her cot once more. 'Of course, up until now that had been an outright lie, so… does that make me getting captured an improvement?'

Unsurprisingly, the recruiter had been lacking in details and overflowing with big fat lies, but considering the climate at the time—Zeon had taken more than half the planet's landmass for itself, and Operation Odessa had been a fantastic dream—there was little reason to be honest. The Federation was desperate for anyone that could carry a gun; Jenna had been extremely lucky that her uncle had pulled some strings to make her a pilot, rather than infantry, or she would have been killed for sure during the Odessa campaign. Even more luckily, the training had been long enough to keep her from participating, and she was transferred to a space-bound assignment before the African front could grab her. Assigned to the Salamis-class Dublin, Jenna had been allowed one more meeting with her family (her mother and older sister; her father had been killed during the Zeon drop operations) before the vessel launched to join the Tianem fleet. She had been given a few weeks to grow acclimated to the weightless environment before taking part in Operation Cembalo, in which she was among only a handful of Earth-born pilots to survive (unsurprisingly, the Spacenoids had better luck). It was an achievement, but not one of which Jenna was particularly proud. Even though she'd survived, the Dublin had been sunk; from what she had been told later, it had drifted into the path of Dozle Zabi's monstrous mobile armor, and had been dealt with accordingly.

So Jenna had made herself at home on board the Salamis-class Rio Grande, on which she had landed after the Battle of Solomon as a matter of random chance. It was a ship filled mostly with Spacenoids, and Jenna was out of place among them, but they took her in nonetheless. During the race from Solomon to Luna II, Jenna had made a number of friends on board. Considering her current situation, she doubted she'd see them, or even her family, again.

For the million-and-first time, Jenna tried to dispel her growing depression. 'Quit brooding,' she admonished herself. 'It could be worse.'

Sigh.

/**/

Yes, I put in an OC, and she will be fairly prominent. Based on my reply to your review, animefan29, I indicated that I was not pleased with most side stories' uses of their own original characters and plotlines, and would not use them; using an OC here seems a bit hypocritical, I know. Please allow me to defend myself. My main complaints with the Gundam side stories revolve around plot holes and retcons, but I am often displeased with their use of new characters as well. However, most of my displeasure falls on the Zeon side of the war. This is because the good guys (in all cases except MS IGLOO and 0080, anyway) are practically all wearing Federation uniforms, and because of that they all have to have personal rivals on the Zeon side in order to make the story interesting from the viewers' standpoint. To make the Federation main characters into underdogs, of course, the Zeon rivals have to be aces, leading to the implausible situation that Zeon appears to have master pilots on every front. Again, it becomes an issue of continuity: 'If Solomon had a defender that was as feared as Anavel Gato was said to be in 0083, wouldn't we have heard about him in the original storyline?' etc. Faceless regular soldiers, on the other hand, are found everywhere on both sides, in the original series and elsewhere. Jenna Heidfeld, and the other OCs that will make their appearance in upcoming chapters, can best be described under this label; their place in this fic is dependent on their proximity to the main characters, rather than any inherent "specialness" in their own right.

Of course, if you didn't really care that there's an OC here, I'm sorry to have bored you with the above.

Please review! I know I said earlier that I wasn't a stickler for that kind of stuff, but at the same time, I am slowly coming to learn just why other authors like feedback so much. So please feed me (at least a little)!