AN: This chapter gave me the worst case of writers' block I've possibly ever had. I wrote it and re-wrote it and changed perspective, then switched it back...all in all there are three versions of this chapter that I've written, but only this one really covered what I was looking for. I was really excited to write about the Memento Mori's destruction, but I have too much to cover to go with the chapter I originally planned, so this is *kind of* filler (to me anyways). I'm excited for the timeskip as I do have several chapters planned out for is utterly, utterly hectic right now, so no promises on an update again before next week (although somehow I had enough time to procrastinate and write a Dylandy-family one-shot...go figure).

I have to apologize for the capitalization carelessness/mistakes I've been making. I didn't realize that I was doing it, and I didn't realize that I was making an error! I'll try my best to break my habit now. If there's anything else that I repeatedly do that annoys any of you, please let me know and I'll try to fix it (also, I'm still in the market for a Beta...pwease?). I'm also trying to make my AN's shorter as they kind of tick me off, so if I have a message conversation going on with you already, I'll reply there from now on.

I listened to anything and everything to try to write this chapter.

Memento Mori

"Remember you are mortal, remember you will die."

Gallagher rubbed his temples in annoyance as the elevator of Ribbons' mansion shot up to the top floor. There hadbeen a dull tone ringing in his head ever since the mission to take out Celestial Being's base. Nothing got rid of it. Not pills, not alcohol, not even his sedative-induced sleep cycle. It was irritating and it was throwing him severely off of his usually impeccable game.

He knew what had caused it, too.

Cherudim's pilot, Lyle Dylandy.

The name had been stuck in his head along with the noise and it refused to leave. It was knawing away at his mind continually, like he was searching for something buried deeper than he was allowed to reach. He knew the man from somewhere, and he knew him very very well. There was one person he knew that could explain what was happening, and he was on his way to see him. Regene Regetta. He had been the one to oversee his recovery, after all. He'd gotten the distinct impression from watching the interactions between Ribbons and Regene that the purple-haired Innovator wasn't particularly interested in obeying Ribbons. After spending the better part of the last six months working with and for both of them, he'd decided that Regene was more appreciative of his style of business. Simpler than that though, Ribbons pissed him off. He'd gone a step above dismissing belief in god and had decided that he was god himself. It irked Gallagher to no end. If Ribbons was god, then he'd gladly follow the purple-haired Satan-Regene instead.

He barely heard the ding of the elevator over the ringing between his ears, and he lowered his hands as he stepped out. Any sign of weakness was picked up on and ripped apart by the group of not-humans, and he wouldn't give them any playing room.

Regene stood by the window, looking at nothing in particular. There was no sign of Ribbons. To be honest, Gallagher was relieved. The man held no interest to him at all.

"Ailin Gallagher. What are you doing here?"

He knew the question was a formality more than anything else. "I can't just come to visit, Regene? That hurts." he pouted. He sat in the center of the long sofa that stretched across the room, making himself comfortable.

"If you weren't supposed to be in space preparing for a mission, you'd be able to do whatever you wanted. You are supposed to be with the Memento Mori defence forces, aren't you?" Regene asked, almost coyly. Of course he already knew the answer. He'd been the one to assign the masked man to the team.

Gallagher chuckled. "You're chastising me as though this mansion isn't equipped with launch capabilities that can place me where I need to be after our conversation."

"And what conversation is that?"

"Who is Lyle Dylandy?"

Just bringing up the name made the tone in his head ring louder. He watched carefully as Regene's expressions changed. First shock, then frustration, then gleeful interest. They didn't linger, but flashed away as quickly as they'd appeared. Being able to hear thoughts had made Gallagher painfully aware of the amount that he didn't get to hear from Innovators. Those blanks had to be filled in with their strange brand of emotional expression. "Who do you think he is?" Regene asked, attempting to deflect his interest.

"Someone who was important to my – distorted – past. Correct me if I'm wrong…" He watched the innovator curiously. Having his eyes hidden really was an advantage when it came to emotion. All anyone had to go by was his characteristic smirk, or lack thereof.

Regene stayed silent until it became deathly irritating.

"Are you going to respond to me?" Gallagher asked, tilting his head. He didn't try to mask his impatience at all.

Regene laughed. "You said to correct you if you were wrong."

"So I'm not, then?"

"Not at all. In fact, you're right on target." Regene slowly said the last three words, then smiled as though he were privy to a secret that Gallagher didn't understand.

Gallagher sighed. "Can we skip the twenty-minutes of mindless banter that we usually go through before you tell me something useful, Regene?" the ringing between his ears was taking all the joy out of their normally chess-like conversations.

"KPSA. Ireland." Regene said, turning to face him with annoyance. "Now go. After you've made yourself useful with Memento Mori, you can hear more."

Gallagher bit back a remark. Being ordered around made him livid, no matter who it was that was doing the ordering. Regardless, he knew that Regene would keep his word. Lyle Dylandy was connected to his past. Regene knew how. That was enough to make Gallagher devour the information-food that was in the Innovator's palm. Eating out of someone's hand was better than starving, wasn't it?

He liked to think so.

Memento Mori. Who could create such a thing? A high-powered weapon that was being used to silence revolution? It was disgusting. It made Reverie's skin crawl, and if she'd ever had doubts about joining Celestial Being, they were gone now. How could the A-Laws destroy entire cities, entire networks of innocent people, just because their political leader had a difference of opinion with the Federation? Her jaw clenched in anger. She had to calm down.

They were on their way to take the weapon down. This meant that she was running her first trial of the NILE system, as she'd named it. Tieria had been mildly impressed, something that made her grin like a kid on Christmas.

"Nile? What does it stand for?"

"Well, the river in former Egypt where the Ptolemy family was in power for centuries."

"And this is accurate to its function how?"

"Neuro-Interpretive Link-Emulating System. That's how."

"Interesting."

Reverie looked down at her space-suit. It was like the Meisters, but it had been altered to accommodate the many biometric measuring devices that she was hooked up to. Cables were plugged in here and there across the surface of the suit and they snaked along the floor to their place in a switchbox. It was one of the suits that Setsuna had outgrown, and as such it was deep blue and white. The colors were somehow calming despite the scene around her. Her hands were secured to her chair arms and although gloved, they were slick inside and out with conductive gel that would make the GN current easier for her body to accept. The suit would stop her from burning, or so she'd been told. She hoped Tieria was right.

Haro bounced excitedly on the other side of the glass, a cable plugged into his mouth. She couldn't hear what he was chirping but she was sure it was strange. She was starting to realize that Tieria had given her one of the less-predictable bots. She was alright with it. The robot's incessant chatter had kept her occupied while in solitary.

A sharp screeching noise shot through her helmet and she yelped as Haro activated their two-way interface. "Sorry! Sorry!" it chirped, dialing back the volume on her headset.

"You'd better be you little gremlin…" she muttered under her breath.

"Do not understand! Do not understand!"

Of course he didn't. Her Haro apparently didn't understand sarcasm.

"Commencing mission! Commencing mission!" he chirped excitedly, obviously not bothered by his lack of information on gremlins. Regardless, the mission was straightforward. All she had to do was collect as much information as she could, and if at all possible cut back the power of the defensive force. Everyone else had much harder jobs, and she was worried about them all. She couldn't stop the pit of worry in her stomach from churning. It had been almost three days and she still couldn't hear what anyone was thinking…she could hear nothing but the same static-y white noise that had been knawing at her since she'd shocked herself.

Hopefully the current she was about to feel would fix her. She needed to be fixed badly…not being able to hear thoughts would severely impact her usefulness for information gathering, and by association could end up getting someone killed if she wasn't fast enough. She didn't want that. She'd spent her time in solitary seriously considering what Sumeragi had said to her, and she was ready to turn over a new leaf, and to try to let go of her forecaster instincts. She didn't want her pride to be the reason any of her friends died. Lyle, Setsuna, Allelujah, the Ptolemy crew, even Tieria. She didn't want to be the reason that any of them lost their lives, and if following orders to the letter was the way to avoid it she would.

"Activating link! Activating link!" Haro chirped. This was it. She took a deep breath and looked up at the screen that counted down until the circuit would be opened. 00:05, 00:04, 00:03, 00:02, 00:01. "Connecting! Connec-!"

She didn't hear him finish. Bright green particle light radiated from the capsules that were wrapped around her hands, and she felt like she'd been ripped underwater! Her body was thick and sluggish, like she was stuck in thick mud or quicksand. The heaviness of her limbs slowly fell away, and she was burning hot and tingling. She tried to suck air into her lungs, slowly at first, then with strained deep breaths as the white noise in her head disappeared. Time seemed to move very, very slowly. Her breathing returned to normal and there was silence. The burning ebbed away, leaving her muscles humming with energy. She felt like she'd be tingly to the touch.

Complete! Complete!

She couldn't hear Haro anymore, but his robo-words spilled across the screen to her left. Haro's words didn't reach her, but the thoughts of Ptolemy's crew certainly did. They didn't compete for space in her head like usual. Instead, they were all clear. It was nothing like the experiments the AEU had done. Those had left her in a foggy haze of mental confusion and painkillers. She wasn't in any pain at all this time. She was humming with energy and was deaf to anything but thoughts, but she wasn't in pain. Suddenly she realized that she couldn't feel the pain of the pseudo GN-Drives.

That realization made her smile.

Memento Mori. Remember your mortality. She hoped the Gundam Meisters would remind the A-Laws of exactly how mortal they were.

Lyle gripped Cherudim's controls with trembling fingers as he saw the after-image of what had been Katharon's second fleet. He knew the footage was already a minute old by the time it had reached him, and he felt his jaw twitch in protest as his teeth clamped together in anger.

Sergio. Arthur. Harrington. Rath.

They were all in the second fleet. They'd all just been vaporized. He cursed at the plan through his teeth as he stood behind Tieria and Seravee. He should have been out there with Setsuna, helping to protect those who'd protected him time and again. He should have been watching their backs just as they'd watched his during their numerous skirmishes with the A-Laws in years past. He knew that that was a lie though. He was exactly where he needed to be, and the plan was exactly what he needed to follow. His fingers trembled with anger and destructive sorrow as he calibrated the windage of his aiming system in preparation for his shot.

Click. Click. Click.

Windage was a funny term. It implied wind just as much as it implied bullets. He had neither. All he had was an energy beam that was going to send that damned A-Laws fleet and its satellite weapon to the hell they all deserved.

"Lockon, now!" Sumeragi said. It was time for the first part of her plan. He didn't respond, but listened as Haro chirped excitedly.

"Deploy shield bits! Deploy shield bits!"

They had to last 200 seconds until his shot. He could see the glowing swirls of Trans-Am as the pieces shot off Cherudim and around Seravee, their pattern of flight whipping across his monitoring screen. He didn't have to worry about their motion though, Haro was more than capable of maneuvering them as he finished calibrating one of the most important shots of his life.

Click. Click.

There. That was the sweet spot. The crosshairs of the sight sat neatly, lined up with the projection of what his target would look like and where it would sit based on Ptolemy's predictions.

Gina. Treig. Ken. Michio.

He wished he could make this shot with bullets. The A-Laws deserved bullets. A beam was too clean and it was over too fast. He wanted each and every one of them to feel the impartial judge of hot iron ripping through them. He wanted them to feel the cold set in as their blood ran out, just as all the men, women, and children had at Katharon's desert base. A beam was too quick.

"Shield bits running out! Shield bits running out!"

He wasn't worried. The still calm of his anticipated shot had settled over him. He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing, not wanting his anger over his friends' sudden deaths to make his fingers shake and steal his revenge. He thought about the first time he'd shot something. A Red Deer.

Cold air tugged at his memories and the sound of a transitioning fall-winter wind filled his mind, drowning out his blaring control panels and the swirling pink-fire red of Trans-Am. He was twelve again on his uncle's property. The sun was setting in the grey sky, the leaves all around him were frosted and his breath came out in slow, foggy clouds. He couldn't let this deer escape. He'd chased it silently all day long. He'd seen other deer pass by as he followed silently, but it had to be this one. This was the one that Neil had missed. His brother had sent it bounding into the woods. His brother had missed, but Lyle wouldn't.

"Ten seconds! Ten seconds!"

He opened his eyes, watching as Seravee bent to make a sturdy support for his GN rifle. He laid the weapon across the other Gundam's back and activated the advanced aiming system made available through Trans-Am.

"Lockon" Sumeragi's voice acknowledged.

"Lockon Stratos." Allelujah agreed.

"You are Lockon Stratos!" Tieria. Somehow, that voice was the most important. He had to make this shot.

The GN rifle was the one his uncle had lent him.

Seravee was the fallen tree that he'd rested his muzzle on.

The electromagnetic resonator was the red deer.

He was Lockon Stratos.

"Just like the name says, targeted and firing!"

He pulled the trigger slowly and steadily, his eye never leaving his target. He imagined that he could feel the recoil of the rifle, but he stayed put, following through. The searing bright light of the GN Particle shot lit up his irises and he still stayed completely still, his finger holding the trigger until Ptolemy swerved to the side and shot past his target.

He lifted his finger off the trigger and felt like he was hanging in empty air.

Marc. Raj. Abdeela. Maxwell.

He felt the vibrations of the first explosion ripple through his body. He'd hit his target. He'd destroyed the satellite weapon. He'd made the shot. Trans-Am powered down as a chorus of cheers rang through the ship. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back.

The deer disappeared into the woods.

Bright yellow paint was splattered over its heart.

Sumeragi's eyes ripped through the information that was flowing in from the NILE system. Having White Haro be the one to man the system had turned out to be the best idea that Tieria had possibly had in the last few weeks. The information was separated neatly and was color coded according to urgency. Blue was information that could be processed after the mission, green was information that could help her adjust her plans if necessary, and red was information that was at the highest level of urgency. So far she'd only seen one red update.

She rechecked all of her information on the attack that had just been completed, then turned her attention back to the NILE screen.

Red.

NU 84: Enemy approaching, four mobile suits. Gadessa, Garazzo, Empress, Proculeza.

"Dammit!" she cursed, causing Lasse and Anew to turn curiously. "A-Laws are launching a surprise attack. Anew, set Ptolemy's course for Earth, we can try to weed some of them out through the atmosphere!"

"Ma'am." She said, turning back to her controls.

"Lasse, open gun ports 8 through 12. Load smokescreen." she half-barked. He didn't bother to nod in return. His hands flew over the keyboard to his left as he instructed the ship. Sumeragi turned. "Feldt, have Setsuna distract them as long as possible. Instruct him to return before he's sucked in by the atmosphere. What is Arios' recharge rate?"

"89% and climbing!"

"Have Allelujah launch as soon as we're through atmospheric re-entry phases one and two. Have Lockon and Tieria prepared to launch as soon as they recharge."

"Got it." Feldt confirmed.

They'd just destroyed the satellite weapon, something that had taken an intense amount of planning and attention to detail. She couldn't let them all go down now. All she had was her tactics, but that was all she needed, or so she hoped. She'd devoted so much of their energy towards the satellite weapon that she'd barely left anything in case of a surprise attack.

A-Laws seemingly had predicted her carelessness.

The thought made her blood boil.

"Now entering phase one of atmospheric re-entry, but Double-Oh isn't with us!"

"What!?" Sumeragi demanded. They needed Setsuna more than ever. There was no way Allelujah could hold off more than one innovator-operated suit on his own. She believed in him, but that feat would even be difficult for the Double-Oh Raiser. "Send him our descent coordinates if possible. What is his trajectory?"

"Communication is being disrupted by solar interference. It's impossible to tell, he's fighting his descent path. There's no way to calculate where he'll land!" Feldt said in alarm. The worry was clearly evident in her voice and Sumeragi couldn't blame her. She could feel her imminent guilt twisting at her stomach. She pushed it away. She could feel guilty later. Right now she had to think clearly.

"He'll have to make it to the surface on his own then. Lasse, fire smokescreen in 00:15."

"Got it."

She watched as the radar finally picked up the mobile suits. As predicted, there were four of them. The mobile armour likely couldn't make the trip to the surface. That left three. Two innovator models and the pseudo-Gundam. Sumeragi smirked. They were ready for the attack. Even if they weren't as ready as she would have liked, they were already a few steps ahead. Now they just had to stay that way.

Three hours later.

"Are you ever gonna wake up?"

Allelujah felt like he was floating. He had no idea where he was, what had happened, or why he couldn't seem to move his limbs. He tried, he really did, but he couldn't manage to so much as twitch his numb fingers.

"Of course you can't. Have you forgotten all about being pushed to the back of your mind?"

To the back of his mind? He wasn't really sure where his mind was at the moment. All he knew was that he was slowly starting to panic as his body wouldn't move. Had he died? Was he in a coma? Was he drowning?

"Idiot. Can't you remember what happened when we fell to Earth?"

Earth. Right. Ptolemy had been under attack from three mobile suits. Tieria had destroyed one, one had taken off shortly after that, and the last one, the pseudo-Gundam…

That's right.

Arios' cockpit had been slashed.

So he was dead.

"You insufferable moron. We're not dead. We're the opposite of dead…at least I am. I'm very much alive."

Wait.

We? He'd been listening to someone talking…someone that he wasn't surprised to hear in his head. That could only mean…Hallelujah?

"It's about damned time. I'd started to think you'd forgotten me, Allelujah."

Hallelujah was back? But how? There was a barrier of scar tissue between the two of them that stopped either one from talking to the other. He'd originally thought Hallelujah had died, but Reverie had disproven that idea. He had been silenced for so long…there was no way that the scarring had disappeared. It was inoperable, or so he'd overheard during one of his beatings at the federal detention center. There was no way. He was imagining Hallelujah.

"That would be a good explanation, if we weren't being operated on as we speak, Allelujah."

Operation? What!?

"That's right. Of course the doctors at the prison couldn't fix us. The world is so behind the times with technology…Celestial Being on the other hand…"

Wouldn't they have fixed him ages ago if they could have? His performance had been obviously altered since Hallelujah had left, and he couldn't use quantum brainwaves anymore. That alone should have been enough for them to try to fix him. Why now?

"Allelujah, stop over-thinking things." He heard what could have been a frustrated snarl. "I was trying not to tell you this…we're barely alive. That man nearly killed us, and we're lying under Shia Mazarenco's knife right now as he tries to pull a piece of Arios' console out of our brain. The scar tissue is gone. He took that away half an hour ago…now he's steadily, steadily slicing away at that damned console shard."

If there had been air in Allelujah's mental lungs, it was gone in a startled gasp over his situation. How could the same type of injury hit them twice, in the same spot?

"Not the same spot Allelujah, just close enough to make a difference. You're a Gundam Meister; consoles exploding are part of the job"

He'd forgotten how condescending Hallelujah could be.

"That's right. If you keep up your moping I'll get worse."

Allelujah chose to remain silent. He knew exactly how bad Hallelujah could get, and he hoped, prayed, that when he woke up he'd still be alone in his head.

If only he could be so lucky.