Waltfeld rose from his chair with a quick, sudden movement that startled the four ZAFT boys waiting in the corner.

"All right, it looks like it's time for some action around here."

Athrun Zala lifted his head. "Sir?"

"Don't 'sir' me like you aren't just as bored as I am," the sandy-haired man scoffed. "The State is going to move against us soon. I can feel it. Let's take care of making the first move ourselves. That way we won't just be sitting ducks while we wait for them to attack us."

"But Commander, Sir…" The azure-eyed youth was dumbstruck.

The Desert Tiger raised an eyebrow. "Now there you go again, calling me 'sir' like that." He drained his mug in one sweep. "Can't you say anything useful once in a while?"

"Of course not," Yzak cut in, getting slowly to his feet in an attempt to stem his drowsiness by moving about. "You'll have to forgive our team's leader, Commander Waltfeld, Sir, for Zala's muddled state of mind. He's a bit caught up with thoughts of his fiancé." The silver-haired youth spat the word like it was poison.

"Yzak…" Nicol warned, but Athrun took the opportunity to speak, watching in satisfaction as Yzak promptly clamped his mouth shut.

"Forgive me, Commander," he said, throwing in a salute for good measure. "It's just that our current situation has gotten me thinking a little too much."

"Oh, been thinking, have you?"

Athrun couldn't tell if the remark was a mockery or not, but he ploughed on. "I'm wondering if the motives we have for being at Central are actually solid."

Dearka's eyes widened, and he stared at the blue-haired pilot with wonder, convinced until that moment that Athrun had never had the guts to say such a thing. Yzak allowed a satisfied smirk to curve its way onto his face, knowing full well that his superior had just spoken out of turn. Nicol looked as if the sky was on the verge of crashing down.

The Tiger's face darkened. "Are you implying," he responded in a dangerously low voice, "That I don't know what I'm doing? Or that your own commander Le Creuset isn't justified in his actions?"

"Yes." The slender mobile suit pilot didn't blink.

Dearka whistled in disbelief. Yzak looked positively giddy with joy. Nicol squinted his eyes shut and waited for the end of the world.

"Well, that livens things up a bit."

Athrun had been standing stiffly, awaiting his fate like the bravest of men. As the room-temperature remark left the Tiger's mouth, the azure-eyed youth nearly staggered from the result the comment had on him. "Wh-what?" he sputtered, trying hard to keep his balance as Andrew Waltfeld bestowed him with a hearty clap on the shoulder.

Yzak's expression was akin to that of a kettle blowing steam as he echoed the word. "What!" the bad-tempered Coordinator hissed, clearly disappointed that he had not gotten to witness his superior's demise. Dearka burst into a fit of laughter.

"I'll tell you something, kid," Waltfeld grinned, "At least you've got a head on those shoulders of yours. Fine," he surrendered. "Let me try to straighten things out."

"Why don't you buy us all a banana split when you're through, too?" Dearka managed to choke out through his attack of hysteria. Yzak rolled his eyes and kicked him in the shins.

Athrun did not allow himself to be thrown off his guard by the antics of his teammates. He set his jaw firmly and met the eye of the elder man before him. The Tiger gazed back, matching him stare for intent stare, and even among the chaos inside the bridge of the Lesseps, Athrun knew the man was a perilous one to be reckoning with. He proceeded carefully.

"You said that we wouldn't hurt Central or its people," Athrun reminded firmly, hearing Nicol shush the other two boys behind him.

"I did, didn't I?" The Desert Tiger rubbed his chin in thought. "But it just so happens that things have changed."

The pilot of the Aegis tried hard to keep his temper. "What things?"

"Oh, statistics, motives, and all that technical stuff." Waltfeld waved a hand about airily.

Dearka interrupted before Athrun could respond. "We want to know what's going on too, Commander," the blonde said, "So quit messing around."

The Tiger regarded him with a distant stare. "What was Rau Le Creuset thinking, sending me four feisty soldiers like you?" he mumbled. "Aren't you kids just supposed to follow orders?"

Yzak sneered. "We're part of Commander Le Creuset's elite mobile suit team," he informed the older man haughtily. "We don't just mindlessly follow orders." For once the azure-eyed youth was glad his teammate had spoken.

"I guess there's no way around you four," the Tiger decided, hands on his hips. "You all had better get one thing straight." Any previous humor had completely disintegrated. "We are here to do one thing, and one thing only. That is to win a war. To do that, certain measures need to be taken, and if you don't like those measures, well then, you'd better seriously consider just what it is you're fighting for."

The four mobile suit pilots held their silence, attentive and alert. Waltfeld motioned to the video screen, which still had the image of Central Library adorning its plasma surface.

"Lacus Clyne is in there for a reason. She is going to bring us the tool we need to end this thing. Why should it matter to you how we do it, as long as we win? Or are you so unsure of yourselves that you would question ZAFTs military tactics?"

"That's not the case, Sir," Dearka responded, his face dark. "I believe what Zala wanted to know was why there's a need to fight with the State if we're only using them to get to the Earth Forces."

Athrun threw the blonde an incredulous look before nodding his confirmation. Maybe his teammates really were on his side after all.

"Did you forget," Waltfeld asked them, "That the State threatened to attack us first? That's the way it is in a war. Attack first or become a target. Now, it doesn't matter how we arranged it so that the pink princess was taken hostage," he ignored the look on Athrun's face, "The important thing is that she's now the bait. The fish comes to the bait, we spear the fish, poison it, then serve it to the people we want to kill. Understand?"

Nicol's brow furrowed. "Then ZAFT planted Lacus in the hands of the State intentionally," he reworded, both for his benefit and that of Dearka, who looked somewhat lost. "But the official story is that during the negotiations when ZAFT asked to use Central as a base, Lacus was taken in a strategical move by the State. ZAFT wants the public to believe that the State is taking hostile actions toward the Coordinators, so that if a fight breaks out, it'll be justified." The Tiger nodded, and Nicol went on. "And the reason there might be a battle is because the tool we're using Lacus to get is somewhere in Central, and in Central is where we need to take down the Earth Forces. It'd be hard to cover up for something like that any other way."

Waltfeld grinned. "Bingo. You're one smart soldier."

"But why hasn't the State realized that we allowed them to take Clyne hostage?" Dearka grumbled, lifting a hand to his reeling head.

The older man shrugged. "That's something your Le Creuset cooked up, not me. To tell you the truth, I don't know what's gonna happen when the State finds out this is all just a ruse. That's why I said we'd hit them before they could hit us, since a battle seems unavoidable anyway if we want to keep our real motives a secret."

"And Lacus?" Athrun pressed, remembering suddenly what happens to the bait once the fish decides to take the hook. "She won't come to any harm?"

"Don't fret your pretty head, kid," the older man reassured him.

"What exactly is this tool you keep mentioning that we're going to use to destroy the legged ship?" Yzak demanded, fed up with the obvious lack of information he was receiving.

"The Philosopher's Stone, of course," Andrew stated smoothly.

"We knew that already," Yzak spat immediately, and Athrun felt a twinge of panic shoot through his limbs. The azure-eyed boy wasn't sure if it was wise to place all their cards on the table at once.

The Desert Tiger watched the silver-haired Duel pilot closely. "Oh? And when did you discover that?"

"That isn't your concern," Yzak replied snidely, and Athrun felt a wave of relief wash over him. "But how do you expect us to use some useless piece of rock to make an alchemic reaction large enough to blow up the legged ship when none of us knows how to use alchemy?" The nagging question had at last been posed.

Waltfeld grinned. "Well that," he said, "Is something you'll have to wait to find out, isn't it?"