Title: Earth's Honor

Disclaimer: All characters are copyright Bandai- I'm just hijacking them for a while.

Rating: This chapter is PG-13

Author: Try/themethotaku

Pairings: None, so far

Warning: Characters in this fic may be racists, sexists, and homophobes, and talk like it. This in no way implies that I approve of racism, sexism, or homophobia.

Ch. 1: What Makes A Man A Man

"Roanoke, I just don't understand you sometimes" said Captain Ian Lee. Neo sipped his coffee, and relaxed in his chair. They were talking in the Girty Lou's mess, where Captain Lee had buttonholed the mysterious Blue Cosmos operative. "Haven't you noticed that that Stella chick of yours would let you have your way with her in a heartbeat?"

Neo narrowed his eyes, and replied "I have, but I prefer to think of her as a daughter. After all, I am the reason she's alive today."

Lee laughed and said, "You're a man, aren't you Roanoke- You must have a man's needs."

Neo glared at this, and thundered, "I've had enough of your prying Lee! I do indeed have a man's needs, but how I go about satisfying them is none of your business!" And with that he strode off.

"Achoo!" The object of Captain Lee's voyeuristic lust was awakened by a sneeze. She had managed to nap for a few minutes despite the incredibly cramped coach seating, but her sudden sneezing fit woke her up rather quickly.

Auel whispered to Sting, "Oh boy, Miss Insane CE 73 is up again".

"Shut it!" snapped Sting. "It's not like we're on some pleasure cruise."

"But it's been four HOURS already and my legs are cramped and I really, really need a piss!" the blue-haired pilot whined.

"Well, head to the back of the shuttle and use the head" suggested Sting, in a tone of voice that said that he was surrounded by fools, and he suited his actions to his words by getting up, so that the blue haired pilot could make his way to the back of the shuttle.

Suddenly, Stella, whose forehead has been flush with the window ever since she has woken up, grabbed at the hem of his tunic. "Look at the stars, each one so pret…", she started to say."

"Shut up" Auel said, in a pained tone of voice that suggested that if he didn't get to the head, wet underwear would be immanent.

"Aww", pouted Stella.

"All passengers please fasten your seatbelts and return your chairs and seats to the upright position" said the intercom.

"Fuck", said Auel.

Meanwhile, aboard the Girty Lou, Neo issued the order to activate the mirage colloid, and the ship slowed to a crawl. In their quarters, the Girty Lou's normal pilots held a bitch session over the last of the ale Jon Izawa had smuggled aboard. "I wonder who th' hell that Roanoke fag thinks he is. He minces onto our ship and starts giving orders like he owns th' place." snarled a Dagger pilot named John.

"Fuuuck yeah- Fucking faggot. Where the hell do those vat-grown freaks get off, acting like they're better then us real men. After all, what are we fighting for, if not to keep the real men on top." This comment was courtesy of a fortyish lieutenant with a handlebar moustache.

"Vat-grown, you serious, Ted?" The other pilot was younger and clean-shaven, a mere flying sergeant.

"Yeah, John, I am. The Blue Cosmos highups have this huge lab, where they mass-produce identical pilots to protect the earth. They've got 3 or 4 models out, and they wear masks so that…"

"Aww, stuff that, Pops. Everyone knows that Roanoke was a ZAFT commander who died during the last war. He's lost his memory, and he's actually a Coordinator, but he doesn't know it," said John with the confidence of the young and fearless.

"Oh yeah, and if he died, how-come he's up and walking around now," scoffed Ted, with a dismissive flip of his wrist. "And don't call me Pops" he added

"Well…" The young pilot blushed.

"Thought so", Ted snorted.

AN. I prefer Stella to Stellar because it's a real English name. Also, if anyone knows how many cannon-fodder pilots the Girty Lou carried, please tell me.