I don't own anything except Kevin Walker and Invictus
At the base camp of the Desert Dawn, Kevin Walker had re-donned his black-and-red flight suit, and stood before his hybrid machine known as Punisher, helmet cradled under one arm.
"Don't be surprised if I turn up sometime to pull your bacon out of the fire."
"I'll look forward to it."
That exchange with Murrue Ramius -had it really been only two days before?- just before he left the Archangel now struck him as most ironic. "Sometime", huh? Guess I got that right... but I never expected it to be this soon.
"You okay?" Cagalli asked, coming up behind him.
"Yeah, tovarisch. Just thinking."
The resistance fighters had returned to their camp after learning of Andrew Waltfeld's incoming strike force. Sahib Ashman's people were gathering their equipment in preparation for a surprise attack of their own, while Kevin had come to retrieve his mobile suit. Whatever the Archangel was doing in the Libyan desert, they were about to be in trouble, and he was, once again, in a position to do something about it... even if it meant fighting against his own mentor.
"Natarle Badgiruel's gonna have a fit," he predicted. "We never got along; on the other hand, though, maybe this'll change her mind." Kevin shook himself. "I'd better get going," he said, glancing over his shoulder at his friend. "Can't afford to be late to this party."
"You always hated parties, remember?" Cagalli smiled at him, then sobered. "Be careful out there, okay? Don't die on me again."
"No worries." With a half-smile, he settled his helmet over his head and grabbed the line that would haul him up into his machine. "We Destroyers don't make mistakes, you know; it says so right in our reputations." He waved a hand. "Just make sure you're not late, either."
She watched the hatch close behind him, a slight smile on her face. You haven't changed that much, have you, Kevin? Always cracking jokes in danger. Her best friend was obviously one of those rare, strange individuals who simply did not get tense.
All the same, Cagalli was a little worried. She knew she shouldn't be, after seeing him in action on Heliopolis, but she'd never seen him fight in a mobile suit before.
Her worries would soon be dispelled.
On the Archangel's Bridge, things remained quite peaceful. The crew was blissfully unaware of both their incoming friend and the reason for his haste; in fact, the Bridge crew found themselves quite, quite bored.
Newly-promoted Lieutenant Natarle Badgiruel held the watch, while her overworked Captain got some much-needed and deserved rest; of the other crew, only newly-minted Ensign Arnold Neumann and Romero Pal were on duty for this, the graveyard shift, and even they were feeling sleepy.
Too few people on this ship, Neumann thought, sipping from a zero-g drink container. I wish the replacements from the Eighth Fleet had made it; maybe then we'd have enough crew to set up a more civilized watch schedule.
Idly, he released his drink, expecting it -if he thought about it at all- to simply stay where he left it, as it had the whole time since Heliopolis. Instead, it dropped straight to the floor, obeying the laws of gravity.
"Ensign Neumann," Badgiruel said tiredly, retrieving the drink and handing it to the sheepish Ensign, "try to remember that we're in a gravity field now, will you? I'd really rather not have to explain to the Captain why the Bridge is sopping wet."
She sounded more amused than angry, though. "Yes, Ma'am," Neumann replied, still feeling sheepish. "I'll, uh, keep that in mind."
"Please do. Besides, we could find ourselves in combat at any moment; this is ZAFT territory, after all."
For the first time, Badgiruel found herself almost wishing Kevin Walker was still with them. Weird guy, and a little too quick to draw his guns, but I'll admit I felt safer with him aboard. Something tells me that even if we were invaded by an entire army, he could fend them off all by himself. Of course, that's one reason he made me so nervous...
She shrugged it off. Walker wasn't here anymore, and the ship seemed safe enough for now. That was really all that mattered. Besides, even if they were attacked, the Archangel's weapons would suffice against almost any ship in ZAFT's inventory, and they still had the Strike; in Kira Yamato's hands, it was a powerful deterrent.
Though he's still in no condition to fly, either... Well, we'll make do.
All through the mobile assault ship, things were peaceful. Murrue Ramius slept easily for the first time in weeks, Mu La Flaga had dozed off in his Skygrasper, and Kira Yamato had finally found some peace... with the help of one Flay Allster, who remained nearby.
But the relaxation of the off-shift crew and the Bridge watch was about to be shattered. From one direction came a ZAFT assault force, commanded by Andrew "Desert Tiger" Waltfeld and completely undetected by the Archangel. From another, Kevin Walker's bizarre mobile suit was rushing toward them, barely out-speeding the enemy.
The first clue the ship had that anything was approaching was when Pal noticed something strange on his displays. "Incoming heat source, Ma'am! Mobile suit approaching!"
Badgiruel spun in her chair. "Identify!"
A moment later, the order became unnecessary. "Archangel!" came the call over the radio. "This is Walker! I strongly suggest you go to Battlestations immediately!"
She frowned, unsure whether to be angry, surprised at the soldier's very sudden reappearance, or very nervous. Whatever else he was, Kevin was a very sharp individual; he wouldn't say something like that for no reason. "Care to clarify, Mr. Walker?"
"No, I thought I'd just send you an anonymous note and go back to live the high life in Vegas," Kevin said sarcastically. "If you'll check your detection gear in a few moments, you'll notice you have a half-dozen ZAFT BuCUEs coming straight at you. Is that cause for alarm, Ensign?"
"It's Lieutenant, now," Badgiruel replied absently. "I'll get back to you, Mr. Walker." In truth, she didn't doubt his words; he might be reticent about his identity, but he was not in the habit of lying about a tactical situation. "This is the Bridge," she said, punching an intercom button. "All hands to Level One Battlestations. Repeat, all hands to Level One Battlestations! Captain Ramius to the Bridge!" Without waiting for any kind of reply, the Lieutenant switched back to the external line. "Mr. Walker, are you in a position to provide support?"
"Affirmative, Lieutenant." Even as he spoke, the Punisher had come into view and began hovering directly in front of the ship. "But I hope you've got the Strike around, because I can't stop six BuCUEs all by myself; and they appear to be bringing in combat choppers, too." A quick curse in Russian. "Watch it, Archangel. We've got a laser designator from over the horizon someplace. If that's who I think it is, expect vampires to be on their way at any moment." Kevin abruptly signed off, leaving the crew to their own devices.
"What's going on?" Ramius demanded, entering the Bridge. "Was that Blade?"
"Yes, Captain." Badgiruel vacated the chair, moving down into CIC; the rest of the Bridge crew had already begun to arrive. "He says we have six BuCUEs and an undetermined number of combat helicopters incoming."
"Wonderful," Ramius muttered. "But at least we have some warning. Activate the Gottfrieds and Valiants; load all stern missile tubes. Prepare to intercept enemy fire."
Sai glanced up from his scanner displays. "Uh, Lieutenant," he asked, frowning, "what did Blade mean by 'vampires'?"
"Missiles, Crewman Argyle," Badgiruel said grimly. "He means there's a ZAFT land battleship out there somewhere, and it's preparing to fire missiles at us." She nodded at CIC's visual displays. "And right now, our only mobile defense is your old classmate."
"In that case, we should be fine," Tolle said from the bow, sounding more confident than he felt. "Blade's stopped everything he's met so far."
"Don't be looking for a miracle, Tolle," Kevin cautioned; apparently he'd been listening in. "I'm unrivaled on the ground, but I'm merely good in a mobile suit. I can delay them, but I need some help if we're going to live." He paused. "Those bastards have a surprise coming, but I can't hold them off long enough." His gaze switched to Ramius. "Captain, you need to launch the Strike."
She shook her head. "No, Blade. I'm sorry, but Kira's still recovering from reentry; he's in no condition to sortie, whatever he may think."
He hissed. "Well, you'd better do something, Captain, 'cause they'll be on top of us in under five minutes!" His image winked out again.
"As insubordinate as ever," Badgiruel murmured, but she didn't sound the least bit irritated. "Yet somehow, I just don't care anymore."
"Probably because we can't move," Ramius commented, "which means we're effectively helpless for now." She pushed an intercom button. "Commander La Flaga, is your Skygrasper ready yet?"
"Negative, Captain," La Flaga replied from the hanger. "There's still a couple of bugs I need to work out before I'm sure it won't crash on takeoff. I'll lift ASAP, Ma'am."
"Understood; but please hurry, Commander."
"Captain," Mir said, looked up at her, "Kira is requesting permission to launch at once."
"Denied," Ramius said instantly. "He may think he's ready, but the Doctor says he needs more rest. Tell him that, Crewman Haw."
"Yes, Ma'am." She winced, knowing how Kira was likely to react; but she also knew the Captain was right. Even Coordinators only healed so quickly.
Another transmission came through from Blade. "I have met the enemy, Captain Ramius," he reported, voice signally the detached calm of his battle instincts, "and he is us. Now engaging."
Sai glanced over at Mir. "That's Blade, all right. No mistaking the sense of humor."
There was the sound of energy fire from the mobile suit guarding their bow, and the battle was joined.
"I have got to be out of my mind," Kevin muttered, watching the helicopters approach. "Here I am, in the middle of a desert, facing off against attack choppers and a half-dozen BuCUEs, while flying a hybrid monstrosity that may come apart at any moment, and completely without backup. I have got to be out of my mind."
Nonetheless, he was there, and he had a job to do. So when the first chopper came into view, he raised his rifle and blasted it to bits. At least I've got some lead time before those BuCUEs get here, he thought, watching his displays. But if that's really Andy, I'm in trouble. The Desert Tiger was a foe no one took lightly.
Kevin gazed calmly at the incoming aircraft, gauging tactics as his mentor had taught him. Let's see... he mused, accessing his augmentation's database. Standard ZAFT land battleship-based combat helicopters. Lightly armed, with Zuni Mk. 40 rocket launchers and chin-mounted 30mm Gatlings. In other words... He smiled slowly. They can't do squat against PSA. So...
Punisher's beam rifle went back onto its mountings, and one hand yanked out the massive katana sheathed at its side. Raising the weapon in a steady, two-handed grip, the machine leapt into the air.
The ZAFT pilot flying Punisher's first target couldn't quite grasp what was occurring. Having a bizarrely-modified GINN with a Samurai sword leap at him was completely outside his experience; and, for that matter, standard GINN capabilities. Wait a minute, the pilot's mind gibbered, GINNs can't fly in atmosphere. This can't be happ-
Shining metal came down, and the pilot knew no more.
"Anybody else care to try me?" Kevin whispered, still calm, very calm.
"Well..."
ZAFT Commander Andrew "Desert Tiger" Waltfeld watched the battle with interest. He was not himself piloting in this mission, but he had refused to stay with the Lesseps. He'd heard of this so-called "legged ship", the vessel which had eluded the Le Creuset team with seeming ease all the way to Earth. Having little use for Rau Le Creuset, Waltfeld was interested in seeing the ship which had so stymied the man.
He found himself rather impressed by the pilot that had come to the Archangel's rescue before the attack force had even arrived. All alone, even with his PSA-equipped machine, and yet he stood his ground, even though he had to know the BuCUEs were on their way.
His aide, Martin DaCosta, frowned in confusion. "But what is that thing, and where did it come from? The legged ship obviously didn't launch it, and the resistance fighters certainly have nothing like it."
"I'm not sure exactly what it is, DaCosta," Waltfeld replied, never taking his eyes off the battle, "though it clearly started life as a GINN. But where, now... that's a different story. Athrun Zala, of the Le Creuset team, reported fighting this machine in orbit. It was observed launching from the legged ship several hours prior to the battle, but returned after the Eighth Fleet started getting hammered, so I'd assume it was originally the GINN that was captured at Heliopolis. Following Zala's engagement with it, the pilot apparently made atmospheric reentry independently; probably one of the shooting stars we saw the other night. If I had to guess, he made contact and joined up with the resistance fighters, who must have gotten word of our attack. He heard that, and headed off to protect his old ship." He shook his head in admiration. "Whoever that guy is, he's good. If I didn't know better, I'd say I trained him..."
For several minutes, the battle had been an effective stalemate. The helicopters knew their weapons couldn't hurt the mobile suit, and that to try was to die, but Kevin couldn't afford to go hunting for the enemy mobile suits, lest he leave the Archangel open to fire from the helicopters.
"Not quite a Catch-22," he murmured, "but close enough for government work."
Then the BuCUEs burst into sight over the sand dunes.
"Uh-oh." Kevin keyed his radio. "Archangel, if you can possibly launch anything to assist, now would be a really good time. Even Phase-shift runs out eventually, especially when you consider that it took me a little while, and a good amount of power, to get here in the first place; and six-to-one odds are never great."
On the screen, Ramius seemed to be consulting with someone. Finally, she said, "We're launching Commander La Flaga's Skygrasper. He can't do much good against the BuCUEs, but he can find that battleship; and if he can distract them, they might recall the BuCUEs."
"Possible," Kevin granted, "but unlikely. I have a pretty good idea of who's in charge over there, and he doesn't spook easy. But even if all the Commander can do is hold off potential missile attacks, it'll help. But please, if there is any possible way to get the Strike out here, please do so ASAP."
Ramius sighed. "I'd love to, Blade, but Kira really isn't in any condition-"
"All right, all right." He grimaced. "I'll make do. But tell Kira he can have my gun collection; these really aren't good odds."
But they're the only odds I've got, so I'll just deal with it.
The first BuCUE was now in range, and Kevin discovered he wasn't quite as ready for desert warfare as he'd assumed when it bowled him right over.
"Uh-oh." He kicked in his verniers at the last second, recovering from would have been a very disadvantageous position. He'd already realized his primary errors: he wasn't accustomed to the BuCUEs' rough-and-tumble full-contact tactics, and his only mobile suit experience prior to Heliopolis had been in simulators... none of them designed to simulate the conditions of a battle in a desert against six BuCUEs while piloting a hybrid monstrosity of a mobile suit which no one had ever heard of.
So he was still attempting to compensate when the BuCUEs began to surround him, firing a mixture of back-mounted missiles and double-barreled linear cannons.
They were not sufficient to damage Phase-shift, of course; but even PSA could be knocked out eventually, by simple lack of power. Each hit and each use of a beam weapon drained the machine's battery a little more, until it was empty and the mobile suit was vulnerable.
It didn't help that the shots kept Kevin off-balance. And this time, his usual consummate skill and cool head worked against him, for he was highly unaccustomed to being off-balance. That, therefore, kept him off-balance for far longer than would usually have been the case.
"Is this all he's got?" one BuCUE pilot wondered. "Hah! He should never have left space for Earth; we rule the des-"
A beam shot blew off his right foreleg, and the descending sword bisected him in a flash. "You talk too much," Kevin hissed, launching himself into the sky, beam rifle in one hand, katana in the other. "Talk is cheap, victory expensive."
Below, Andrew Waltfeld nodded to himself, impressed. "He's good," he conceded. "I still don't know why they haven't launched the Strike, but this guy might actually give them time to do so. Well, can't have that. DaCosta," he said, turning. "Correct if I'm wrong, but didn't we get a hotshot DINN pilot transferred over last week?"
DaCosta blinked. "Uh, yes sir, we did; some guy Carpentaria didn't want. Good in a mobile suit, but the Carpentaria brass didn't like his attitude."
"I don't care about his attitude," the Tiger said with a shrug. "I just want somebody to distract that thing, and the BuCUEs can't fly. Tell the Lesseps to launch him, immediately."
"Yes, Commander!" The aide lifted a radio, speaking rapidly.
"Let's see you handle somebody your own altitude, hotshot," Waltfeld murmured.
Kevin watched the now-circling BuCUEs warily. La Flaga had launched a few minutes before, searching for the enemy mothership, but since then, not much had happened. Something's not right here...
He keyed his radio. "Archangel, keep your eyes peeled. They're up to something."
"How can you tell?" Ramius asked. "They look to me like they're reevaluating the situation, in light of your arrival."
"That may be what it looks like, Captain," he replied, eyes narrow, "but I don't think that's what it is. Andy's smarter than that... which means they're up to something."
On the screen, she frowned. "'Andy'?" A pause. "You don't mean Andrew Waltfeld, do you? ZAFT's Desert Tiger?"
"That's exactly who I mean, Captain." Kevin chuckled. "My mentor."
Another pause; this time, the response was from Badgiruel. "Your what?"
He actually laughed, despite the battle; though his eyes never left the circling enemies. "I came through here about two years ago, Lieutenant; a wet-behind-the-ears combat rookie, out on my own in the great wide world for the first time. I had a tussle with Blue Cosmos in Banadiya -my first, it would have been- and a certain member of ZAFT happened to be watching when I cleaned their clocks. Afterwards, he walked up to me, and he said, 'Mr. Tiger, your technique is good, but you couldn't outfox a lemming.' I asked him what I could have done better, and he told me. And that, Lieutenant, is what led to my being just as good at outmaneuvering my enemy as at simply blasting him to bits."
"Oh, great," Badgiruel muttered. "You're sure it's him out there?"
"Oh, yeah. I'm sure."
Below, Andy Waltfeld glanced at his watch. "Right... about... now, I think."
The thermal detection unit beeped, and Kevin's eyes snapped down to his displays. "AMF-101 DINN," he murmured, feeling the first tightening of tension. "I thought they weren't deploying those outside the ocean theaters." He hit his radio again. "Archangel, we may have a problem. There's a DINN incoming."
"Just one?" Ramius tilted her head. "That shouldn't be much of a problem, right?"
"Don't be naive, Captain," he snapped. "Think. This is the Desert Tiger we're talking about; would he really have sent in a single DINN, after seeing what I can do, if the pilot wasn't very, very good?"
"Point taken," she conceded with a sigh. "Do your best, Blade; we'll just have to hope Commander La Flaga manages to-"
She broke off abruptly, and Kevin tweaked his hearing to catch what was being said in CIC. That sounds like Kira. What is he...?
"No more lives will be sacrificed," Kira was saying angrily, "so let me go out there and fight!"
Evidently, he'd gone to the Strike as soon as the battle began, even though Ramius refused to let him launch. Now he sounded very insistent, and his tone and words set off warning bells in Kevin's mind. That sounds like something Flay would say... or Kira, if someone had been filling his head with nonsense. Someone like Flay Allster. Kira, don't tell me you fell for her act. Please don't be stupid...
No use; especially when combined with the tactical situation. "All right," Ramius said finally. "Tell him he can launch. I don't like his attitude, but I don't see that we have much of a choice. Blade, you have help coming."
"About time," he muttered; but having heard Kira's words, Kevin now thought he'd probably do better to simply fight by himself. Kira Yamato under the influence of Flay Allster might conceivably be more of a loose cannon than... ...than me, he conceded. I'll admit I get a little reckless sometimes; but I can survive just about anything. And I don't go in for genocide, which is what I'm pretty sure Flay wants. Man, oh man... this could be bad.
Kevin, however, now had other things on his mind. Like the DINN that was coming straight at him. "So you're the hotshot Commander Waltfeld wants me to take care of?" a mocking voice called over the radio.
"Who wants to know?" The winged DINN had both guns, rifle and shotgun, pointed directly at him, but he hadn't attacked yet. Arrogance, his mind whispered. Exploit that weakness, and you've won the battle.
"The name's Bitter," the DINN pilot replied. "Evan Bitter; and I'm the guy who's gonna kill you."
"Bitter, eh?" Kevin snorted. "I'd say that name fits... since you'll have plenty of time to be bitter, in the afterlife." He inclined his head. "You can call me Walker, hotshot." He added power to his verniers, bringing himself level with Bitter's machine; his katana was in his hand. "Kevin Walker, that is. I don't know if you know the name -though Elsman, at least, should have mentioned it- but I know yours. A reckless pilot from Martius Three, right?"
"Yeah," Bitter answered. "And Elsman did mention you in his report; I assume the deleted words weren't very complementary." He loudly cracked his knuckles. "Enough talk, Walker! Let's get down to business!"
Blade shrugged. He had a hole card, if things went against him. But that presumed it functioned like the specs said... and that he'd constructed it properly. To his knowledge, not even a prototype had been made of the vehicular neurolink, before he explosively terminated the Project; like many other devices the Destroyers had in the works near the end, it was only on the drawing board... and his own stint as an engineer had been enough years and deaths ago to make him uncertain of his own ability.
None of which mattered much, really; if it didn't work, he'd probably never know it.
"Okay, then," Kevin murmured. "Archangel, you'd better hurry up and get that machine out here." He raised his voice, simultaneously raising his sword in salute to the DINN. "Let's dance!"
In the Archangel's starboard catapult, Kira Yamato sat in the Strike's cockpit, preparing to take off. Finally, he thought, disgusted. This could be over by now if they'd just let me launch earlier. He'd taken Flay's words to heart, and believed now that the only way to quickly end the war was to destroy his enemies as soon as possible. That way, fewer innocents would die, and those he was sworn to protect would be safe. So let's do it.
Overhearing some of Kevin's radio chatter, Kira smiled. He'd been very happy when he heard his friend had returned to defend the Archangel once again, just like he had on the way from Heliopolis to Earth orbit. With Kevin at his side, life was about as good as it could get at the moment... once they'd won this battle, at least. And Kevin's assistance would help immeasurably.
I knew he'd be back, he thought, smiling grimly. I knew it! Now, if he'll just stick around this time...
Various mechanical thumping and hissing noises heralded the connection of a Striker pack to his machine. "Okay, Kira," Mir said from the Bridge. "We've attached the Launcher Striker; you're cleared to launch." She paused. "Be careful."
"Roger that." Smile banished, Kira hit the appropriate controls, and the Strike shot forward with the speed induced by magnetic repulsion.
Immediately, he glanced around, checking the situation. Of the original attack force, about a dozen helicopters and five BuCUEs remained; the casualties, he knew, were Kevin's work.
The DINN, Kira figured, was also Kevin's work, after a fashion: the ZAFT ground commander had obviously decided he needed something a bit more maneuverable to deal with the bizarre Punisher. Now the pair were wheeling about the sky, firing at each other and attempting to cut each other to ribbons; they looked like nothing so much as a pair of birds of prey, battling each other for territory.
Kira knew there was little he could do to affect the outcome of that battle; even if the Launcher package had permitted him to fly in atmosphere, the Agni was overpowering enough that he risked hitting Kevin, instead. That left the BuCUEs; the helicopters, as he saw it, were little threat to anything.
But now Andrew Waltfeld's trap was sprung.
"Perfect," Waltfeld murmured. "They've finally launched the Strike, and that crazy GINN-thing is occupied with Mr. Bitter." He smiled. "Let's see how the Le Creuset team's Bane does against BuCUEs, in a desert..."
DaCosta, as usual, had not the slightest idea what his boss was talking about. He was good, of course; else he would not be Andrew Waltfeld's second-in-command, and, some said, protégé; but he was not in Waltfeld's league, at least not yet. "What do you mean, sir?"
The Tiger glanced at him. Unlike some commanders, he encouraged questions; questioning things was the mark of someone who knew enough to know he didn't know enough. As he himself said, "The only stupid question is the one you don't ask." What seemed obvious to one person might be less so to another.
So now he replied to his aide's question. "That's a space model," Waltfeld pointed out, nodding at the newly-emerged machine. "Those 'Striker packs' give it a decent weapons loadout, but they obviously don't know a thing about desert warfare. If they did, they would have sent him out with the same equipment that GINN is using." He smiled slightly. "You'll see what I mean in a few moments, DaCosta."
Puzzled, but sure the answer would be interesting, DaCosta settled back to watch.
Kira knew something was wrong the moment the first BuCUE leapt for him; but he didn't have time to think about it. Instead, he flinched, firing a wild shot from his hyper-impulse cannon which missed completely.
The BuCUE didn't. Its legs clipped the Strike's right shoulder; a move which, combined with Kira's instinctive reaction, caused the Strike to lose its footing in the loose sand and topple over backwards. "Ugh!"
Kevin spared a moment's attention from his own aerial battle to glance at the Strike, and he felt the first icy touch of fear he'd had in a very long time. Kira hadn't had that much trouble maneuvering a mobile suit since his first battle off Heliopolis, with the Duel, Buster, and Blitz; to see a handful of BuCUEs going at him like this made Blade distinctly nervous. C'mon, Kira... If you die on me, I'll never forgive you. And besides; I'd very much like to introduce you to my old friend, now that I finally remember her...
He paid a small price for his distraction: Bitter's DINN opened up on him, blasting Punisher at point-blank range with his shotgun. "Tut, tut, Mr. Walker! Never let yourself be distracted!" Bitter chided.
He's got me there, Kevin conceded. The DINN was not equipped with energy weapons, which meant Punisher couldn't actually be harmed; but when added to use of verniers and beam weapons, the energy consumed with each hit was ruinous. He estimated he had no more than a few minutes now before he ran out of power completely. Still, however good this guy may be, he's never faced anything like me before. He barked a laugh. Not in his worst nightmares has he met someone like me.
To be sure, Bitter was good; good enough that Waltfeld had accepted the man, despite the attitude problems that had gotten him ousted from Carpentaria. This was why the aerial ballet had lasted so long: for all his formidable skills on the ground, Kevin was just as new to actual -as opposed to simulated- mobile suit flying as Kira, and Bitter's skills were quite impressive.
"What are you laughing at?" Bitter questioned, sideslipping to avoid a sword attack. "Or are you just as crazy as Elsman said?"
"Does it matter?" The katana swept back, cutting the barrel off the DINN's rifle; Punisher immediately pulled back, waiting for the next move like a chess player... or a fencer.
The only reply was a snort, and Bitter did something unexpected. He charged directly at the Punisher, remaining weapon holstered. His empty hands reached out, and before Kevin realized the pilot's intentions, the DINN had snatched the huge Samurai blade from Punisher's hands and retreated, purloined weapon held high.
"Bastard," he muttered, and darted a hand toward his beam rifle.
Below, Kira was finally getting a handle on his problems. It's the sand, he realized. I need to adjust for the granularity; if I can do that, I'll be able to keep my footing... But how? Thinking fast, he leapt backwards, gaining a little breathing space while he brought up the Strike's OS. Of course! Tweak the contact pressures for the Strike's feet, distribute the weight... That should work. He began typing furiously.
Kevin, having an inkling of what his friend was up to, spared a moment from fruitlessly blasting at Bitter to snatch one of his beam sabers and throw it to the ground at the Strike's feet: a warning that was not lost on the BuCUE pilots, though it would doubtless stymie them only for a moment.
Bitter, who did not understand what was going on, laughed. "Dropping ballast, Walker? Or are you just daydreaming?" He followed up on his comment by darting in and slashing the Punisher's beam rifle.
Kevin did not even think of counterattacking at that particular moment. "Um," he murmured with some concern, eyeing the sparking rifle barrel. "I daresay that's what's known as a 'smoking gun'." Hurriedly, he tossed away the now-useless weapon. He was down to just one effective weapon: his remaining beam saber, which he swiftly drew. "You're a dead man, Bitter."
"Have to catch me first, Walker."
Kira finished his OS modifications just as one of the BuCUEs made a move; it was attempting the same strike that had thrown him off-balance earlier, but this time Kira kept his footing.
This time, it was instead the BuCUE that went flying, whacked by the Agni's stock. "I don't think so!" Kira yelled. He hefted his weapon... and above, Kevin's hybrid machine was knocked from the sky by Bitter's DINN.
"You lose, Walker," Bitter murmured, watching Punisher's Phase-shift go done. An anticipatory grin on his face, he raised the captured katana.
At that moment, seeing that, Kira's eyes went wide, and an amethyst seed burst behind them... an effect which once again echoed across to Kevin's mind, opening the jade seed.
The Punisher's left shoulder opened up, revealing the cut-down Scylla hyper-impulse cannon Kojiro Murdoch's mechanics had installed when the machine was in their clutches. Bitter had time to recognize the weapon's aperture, widen his eyes, and begin to speak, "Oh, no-"
The multi-phase energy cannon discharged in a burst of blinding light; when it cleared, the DINN existed only as scattered chunks of twisted metal, dominated by a miraculously-intact katana that stood upright in the sand.
Meanwhile, the tables had turned on the BuCUEs. Kira's machine was properly adapted to the desert sand now, and the Berserker state was working its magic upon his mental processes.
The next four-legged machine to rush the Strike was promptly knocked flat on it back by a powerful punch, and Kira planted the Strike's foot on it. "Here, have some of this!" he said savagely, and pulled the trigger.
Agni erupted, annihilating the BuCUE even more thoroughly than the Scylla had wiped the DINN... all without damaging the Strike, which had jumped away again.
"Incredible..." Waltfeld murmured, watching. "That pilot has already adjusted to the sand... and he just blew up one of my best people. He'll pay for that," he added conversationally.
"What about the DINN, Sir?" DaCosta questioned, once again bemused by his Commander's calm disposition. "That was our only airborne mobile suit, after all."
"Hmm? Oh, Bitter?" The Tiger waved a hand. "He did the job, DaCosta; that GINN-thing was kept occupied... not that it did any good. In any case, I'll write up the appropriate paperwork when all this is over, and add that Bitter was too reckless for his own good." He shrugged, sipping a mug of coffee. "Fortunes of war, DaCosta. You live with it and keep on; vengeance doesn't get you anywhere... Unless you're Racher," he added to himself.
I wonder where that guy is, anyway? Whoever he was, he sure didn't like ZAFT very much; wonder why he tolerated me.Waltfeld tilted his head, thinking. Too bad he didn't take me up on my offer; I'd love to see what he could have done to the legged ship. Oh, well.
He glanced at his watch. "In any case, the Lesseps should be firing her missiles right about now."
It was Kevin, still hyper-sensitive, who first noticed the incoming warheads. "Archangel!" he shouted over his radio. "Vampire vampire vampire!"
Ramius and Badgiruel had both been semi-anticipating the call, and reacted instantly. "Set Igelstellungs to missile-intercept!" Badgiruel snapped. "Don't let those missiles close!"
"Activate engines!" Ramius ordered, nerves tense. "We're a sitting duck if we don't get airborne!" She glanced down into CIC. "Where's Commander La Flaga?"
"Still closing with the enemy battleship, Ma'am," Mir reported uneasily. "He can't assist."
Kevin overheard the exchange. Then it's up to us, he thought grimly. Like old times. And I think it's time to try out my little gadget.
He flipped open the cover over the neurolink interface, pressed his palm against it, and made connection. Instantly, he was seeing through the Punisher's eyes, and the neural impulses which normally controlled his body were rerouted to the machine.
For all intents and purposes, he was Punisher.
First, Kevin flipped the machine back onto its feet, then snatched up the fallen katana and sheathed it; that done, he hit his verniers again and reopened the shoulder plate. With his energy levels as they were, he'd only get one shot; he had to make it count.
Kira, watching with oddly-detached horror, had a similar idea. First, though, he snatched up one of the remaining BuCUEs, startling its pilot, and hurled it into the path of one of the missiles, obliterating warhead and mobile suit in one massive explosion. Then he raised the Agni hyper-impulse cannon. This had better work...
On the Bridge, Ramius clutched the armrests of her chair, willing the ship to lift in time. But she knew it wouldn't, and icy fear gripped her. It can't end like this! Not after we've come so far, sacrificed so much!
Then two trigger fingers tightened, and the Archangel's Bridge crew was blinded by a pair of massive streaks of light, tearing across the night sky.
Andrew Waltfeld lowered his binoculars, genuinely surprised... and a tad dazzled himself. "Incredible..."
DaCosta blinked furiously, trying to clear his eyes. "What in the world just happened?"
There were no more missiles heading for the Archangel. The combined fury of a 320 millimeter Agni and a 580 millimeter Scylla hyper-impulse cannon had seen to that. Now all that remained were a trio of BuCUEs.
Mir spoke into the silence on the Bridge. "Commander La Flaga is returning, Captain. He says there's nothing more he can out there... and he confirms that the enemy ship is the Lesseps."
"So Blade was right," Ramius murmured. "It was the Desert Tiger." But it looks like we're finally winning.
But Kevin and Kira both noticed a problem: they were both effectively out of energy. Which meant that the BuCUEs once again held more than just the advantage of numbers. Even with helicopter support -which had been effectively eliminated during the fighting, leaving only one still airborne- they could probably take the two effectively-disarmed machines with relative ease.
Indeed, that was exactly what they were about to do when the last chopper suddenly exploded, struck by a rocket-propelled grenade.
Kira, no longer Berserk, looked to one side, to see several jeeps approaching, with RPG-wielding resistance fighters aboard. One of them skidded to a stop right next to the Strike, and one of its occupants fired a communications cable at the mobile suit.
"Attention, pilot of this mobile suit," Cagalli's voice (though Kira didn't recognize it) said in his ears. "If you feel like living, doing exactly as I say."
Kevin immediately keyed his radio. "Do it, Kira," he advised. "Trust me."
Kira almost asked "Do what?", but then a map appeared on his display, with an "X" marked on it; obviously he was supposed to head there. "Okay," he responded, puzzled but trusting his friend. "I'm on my way."
The Strike leapt into the air, using what power remained for short, boosted hops across the sandy ground; the Punisher followed closely, loping along with its own basic thrusters.
The BuCUEs obligingly followed along, not realizing they were walking directly into a trap.
It was a matter of only a few moments before the two Archangel mobile suits and three BuCUEs reached the marked location; at which point Kira and Kevin boosted high into the air above.
The BuCUE pilots were still looking up, confused, when Cagalli held up a control device. "Perfect." Smiling savagely, she hit the first switch, blasting a section of desert out from under the trio of enemies. Then, once they were in the hole, she pushed the second red button.
Three BuCUEs very suddenly ceased to exist as anything more than very, very tiny pieces of scrap metal.
Dawn had come to the desert, and with it the time for the Archangel's crew to make some decisions. The resistance fighters that had come to their aid were still a largely unknown quantity, though Kevin appeared to have some connection with them.
On the Bridge, Badgiruel stroked her chin, uncertain. "Do they look friendly to you, Captain?"
Ramius shrugged, just as perplexed. "Hard to say, Natarle. They certainly didn't have to do what they just did; but on the other hand, Blade seems to know them. Of course," she added with a smile, "that probably makes them less trustworthy in your eyes."
The Lieutenant shook her head. "Don't be so sure, Captain. I may have misjudged Mr. Walker; I think we'll know in a few minutes."
Down in the hanger, La Flaga's Skygrasper taxied to a halt. Murdoch approached it as its canopy opened, and reached into the cockpit to help the Commander with his restraints. "Resistance fighters?" the pilot queried, eyebrows raised.
"Looks like it," Murdoch confirmed. "Beats me what's up, though."
"I guess I'd better go out there," Ramius said finally, on the Bridge. "They're not pointing any weapons, anyway, so let's at least show some courtesy and talk with them." Feeling a twinge of unease, she turned to the Bridge elevator. "You have the Bridge, Natarle; and have Commander La Flaga join me, will you?"
"Of course, Captain."
Ramius soon arrived at the lowest level of the Archangel, where La Flaga awaited at the hatch. "I guess I should warn you," he began with a sly smile, hand on his sidearm, "that I'm not too good in these 'sticky situations'."
She smiled, knowing exactly what he meant. I'm sure, Commander, she thought warmly. And if things get too sticky, you'll start shooting people, right?
"We'd better go," she said aloud.
Outside, they found Kevin Walker already waiting for them, alone; he still wore his flight suit, though he'd doffed the helmet. "Hello, Captain, Commander," he greeted. "It's good to see you again."
"Likewise, Blade," Ramius replied, genuinely glad to see him. Cold-blooded though he might be at times, she was really quite fond of the youth.
It was La Flaga who noticed the insignia pinned to Blade's collar. "Hey, Blade," he began, curious, "what's with the insignia?"
Kevin shrugged. "A parting gift from Admiral Halberton, Commander. He said it might come in handy, if I got into anything sticky with the Earth Forces." His eyes sharpened behind his perpetual sunglasses. "But understand something, please: I hold honorary rank, but I am not, in fact, part of the Earth Forces. Is that understood?"
Ramius nodded, not particularly surprised. "Of course, Blade; we'll just treat you the same as ever." She raised an eyebrow. "Does this mean you're planning to stay with us now?"
His eyes narrowed. "Depends on how things go here in the desert, Captain. Let's just say that it is a distinct possibility." Kevin waved a hand. "Now, may I suggest we go see what our guerrilla friends want? Sahib wouldn't give me a straight answer."
La Flaga grinned. "Nice to know somebody can keep secrets from you," he said, amused. "After you, Blade."
Ramius found herself pleased she didn't understand Russian; the super-soldier's reply sounded quite, quite unprintable.
The three officers -well, two officers and one who-knew-what sort of officer- strode out to meet the resistance fighters who had appeared at such an opportune time, two of them wondering just what was going on. Their lethal young friend obviously knew them, but that told them little; Kevin Walker seemed to know everyone on the planet and beyond.
Sahib Ashman watched them approach, one eyebrow raised when he noticed that Kevin stayed with the Archangel contingent; a subtle but distinct sign of where his loyalties currently lay. "So," he said simply, observing the trio, gauging their expressions, "we meet at last."
Ramius nodded. "It's only proper that we should thank you," she explained. "You did save our ship and mobile suits, after all." She wondered how much she should say, then mentally shrugged. ZAFT already knows about us; it's hardly as if we could be giving away classified information to the enemy. "I'm Murrue Ramius," she introduced herself, "Lieutenant Commander, Earth Alliance Forces Eighth Fleet. I'm the acting-Captain of this ship."
Sahib tilted his head. "We are known as the Desert Dawn. I go by the name Sahib Ashman. You need not bother thanking us," he added. "We weren't fighting merely to help you; ZAFT happens to be our enemy, as well, that's all." He paused. "And, of course, I think our mutual acquaintance might have been a little annoyed if we hadn't come to help out."
"True enough," La Flaga agreed, amused that they had already found something in common with these tough guerrillas: a disinclination to get Kevin mad. "So it's you guys against the Desert Tiger, huh? Fighting for awhile?"
Sahib looked at him strangely. "I recognize you, but I cannot say how, or from where."
"My name is Mu La Flaga," the pilot replied, shrugging. "Don't know a living soul in these parts."
The guerrilla leader nodded. Ah, I see. "I never expected to meet the Hawk of Endymion in a place such as this," he admitted.
La Flaga and Ramius exchanged surprised looks, but the Captain quickly recovered. "You seem to be very well informed," she said curiously. "Do you also know about us?"
"You are the crew of the Earth Forces new mobile assault ship, yes? You descended to Earth to escape the Le Creuset team." At that, Kevin's eyes narrowed. He had no idea how Sahib knew that. He'd told Cagalli, but he didn't think she'd told anyone else yet. "And that machine of yours is..."
"X105 Strike," Cagalli supplied from behind him. "That's what they call this thing; it's one of the Earth Forces' new prototype mobile suits, from Heliopolis."
Sahib glanced at her sharply, as if to warn her not to say too much; but he knew there wasn't much point. She was bad enough on her own; with Kevin Walker at her side, there was no limit to the kind of trouble the pair could get into. He remembered their old exploits too well. "So," he said finally. "How good it is that you know who we are, and we know who you are. I must say, though, that I was surprised to see you land in such an unfortunate location; I can only assume you came here by accident." He paused, thinking about the possibilities this provided. "But now that you're here..."
Ramius glanced at Kevin, wondering what he might add, but he said nothing. Figures. "Can we count on your complete cooperation?" she asked hopefully.
Sahib smiled knowingly. "If you're serious about talking, you should lower your guns first." He looked up at the now-motionless and power-down Strike. "He should disarm as well."
On the Archangel's Bridge, Badgiruel listened in. Come on, Captain, she thought. Are you sure that's such a good idea?
Ramius considered that. Oh, what's the harm? she finally decided. Besides, if things get rough, Blade could probably take care of all of them himself. She realized then how much she'd missed having the super-soldier aboard; given that he was clearly on their side, his lethality was very comforting.
"Very well, then," she said aloud. "Ensign Yamato," she called, "come down here."
In the Strike, Kira readily unstrapped. He'd caught sight of a face down there that seemed somehow familiar; and besides, Kevin was back, a fact that pleased him enormously.
Cagalli watched with detached interest as the pilot in black, blue, and white lowered himself to the ground. Judging from what she could see of him... He's just a teenager, she realized. About Kevin's age, she thought, though it was difficult to tell without seeing his face.
Then he removed his helmet, and she gasped. But that... that's the guy from Heliopolis, the one who shoved me into that shelter.
Without thinking, Cagalli broke away from the resistance fighters and ran up to the pilot. "So it is you," she said flatly, stopping less than a meter away.
Kira blinked, confused. Huh? Who's she?
She was still glaring at him. "Why-? What is someone like you doing here, huh?" Without warning, she threw a punch at him.
Kira easily caught her fist; and he finally realized where he'd seen her before. "That's right; you're that person I met back at Morgenroete!"
Cagalli was not at all mollified by his recognition. "Let go of me, you jerk!" She jerked her hand free, and smacked him in the face.
"Cagalli!" Sahib called; clearly an order.
Without another word, she stalked away, now just as puzzled by her actions as everyone else was. Why did I do that? He hasn't done anything to me, after all.
There was a moment of quite discussion between Sahib and Cagalli, and then the guerrilla leader turned back to the Archangel officers. "I think we have much to discuss, Captain Ramius. If you'll return to your ship, we'll take you to our base."
Ramius nodded. "Very well. I look forward to it, Mr. Ashman."
She and La Flaga turned and began walking back toward the Archangel; they were accompanied part of the way by Kevin. "I'll be going with the resistance fighters, if you don't mind, Captain," he said quietly. "I'll see you when we arrive."
"Of course," Ramius replied. Then curiosity got the better of her. "By the way, Blade, did you find your friend? The one you couldn't remember?"
For the first time since she'd known him, he smiled broadly. "I certainly did, Captain. She's the girl who just tried to deck Kira."
Before the startled Captain could think of a coherent response, the super-soldier had slipped away, as abruptly as he usually appeared.
Beside her, La Flaga chuckled. "Now there goes a guy who hasn't been this happy in years."
A hundred meters away, Kevin was climbing into a jeep with Cagalli. "By the way, tovarisch," he began quietly, "you remember you once said you wanted to meet my friends from Copernicus?"
She frowned, puzzled by the non sequitur. "Yeah, why?"
He jerked his head toward Kira. "You just whacked one of them."
Cagalli felt herself color. "Oops."
Some hours later, after the Archangel had arrived at the Desert Dawn's encampment, the officers had gone to meet with Sahib and his people, and their two mobile suits had covered the ship with cammo netting, Kira stood on a hill overlooking the site.
So here we are, he thought. Right in the middle of a resistance fighters' base, in the middle of a desert. Never thought I'd end up in a place like this. But it could be worse. At least Blade's back with us.
Sai walked by, carrying rope that was no doubt bound for somewhere-or-other. "Excellent job," he said as he went by.
Presuming he meant the cammo netting, Kira shrugged. "Yeah, sure. I guess." It wasn't really that big a deal, or so he thought.
Then he saw something coming that did get his attention: Cagalli was coming up the slope toward him, an odd expression on her face; to Kira's surprise, Kevin was, for once, nowhere to be seen. "Huh?"
She stopped about a meter away, and looked at the ground. "I apologize for earlier, 'kay?" she said without preamble. "I didn't actually mean to hit you." Then, realizing how ridiculous that sounded, and remembering that this was a friend of Kevin's she amended, "Well... I suppose I did. But it was spur of the moment; forgive me."
Kira was a little surprised, but then decided it was amusing, and chuckled.
"What are you laughing at?" Cagalli demanded, irritated.
He sat on the ground, smiling a little. Maybe she's not so bad, after all. "Well, now think about it."
She got his point, and finally relaxed herself. "You've been on my mind since," then admitted, remembering Heliopolis. "Worried, I guess; asking myself what might have happened to you." The blond-haired girl looked up at the Strike. "But then you turn up out of nowhere, flying one of those things. And worse yet, you're now with the Earth Forces?"
Kira was silent for a long moment. You've got a point, he thought. I don't really know what I'm doing here, either. "A lot of things have happened along the way," he said finally. "A great many things." He looked up, a question on his mind. "So, what's someone like you doing in a place like this? I mean, I assumed you were from Orb..."
Cagalli hesitated. How much can I really tell him? she wondered. He is Kevin's friend, so he must be an all right guy, but Kisaka wouldn't like it if I told him...
Kira realized the question had made her uncomfortable, so he changed the subject. "So, you know Kevin, huh?"
She brightened. "Yeah, I do. We grew up together; best friends all our lives." Cagalli glanced at the nearby Punisher, upon whose Striker pack Kevin could be seen standing, hair blowing in the wind; how he'd gotten up there was a mystery. "A lot of things have happened to him since I last saw him. But he's still my friend."
He scratched his head. "I see. Are you two... uh...?"
Cagalli whirled, glaring. "Absolutely not!"
"Uh, sorry," Kira said hastily, startled by the vehemence of her reaction. "I didn't mean..."
"No, it's okay," she said, relaxing. "You couldn't have known." She grimaced, remembering. "Back home, people always assumed we were together, and it drove us both crazy."
"Yeah," Kira said quietly, knowing how scary Kevin could be when angry. "Yeah, I can see that..."
That night, after the Earth Forces crew and the resistance fighters began to get comfortable with one another, Kevin and Cagalli walked toward the Archangel; she'd realized suddenly that she hadn't caught the Strike pilot's name, and asked Kevin to introduce her properly.
Along the way, they heard voices ahead, coming closer. "Wait a minute, Flay!" they heard Sai call.
"Will you shut up?" Flay replied angrily. "Keep your distance from me!"
A moment later, she came into view, and Kevin noted something didn't seem quite right. Something's wrong, he thought, stretching out with his empathic sense; it had gotten to the point where he could begin to make out emotions. There's something going on that doesn't feel right...
After casting a venomous glance at the girl from Orb and an oddly nervous look at Kevin, Flay brushed past, picking up the pace. When Kira came down the stairs out of the ship, she began running. "Kira!" she called.
Kira blinked in surprise as Flay grabbed his arm and seemed to hide behind him. "What?" he asked Sai, who had just stopped.
Sai's eyes narrowed. "I need to talk to Flay," he said, voice quietly grim. "It's not your business, Kira."
"He's involved in this too!" Flay retorted, gripping Kira's shoulder. "Don't you- Don't you understand that he and I are together now?"
Sai wasn't the only one surprised by that statement; Cagalli ducked behind an outcropping, and Kevin blinked as he did the same. For him, that was akin to fainting in shock. He'd thought something was up, something not quite right, when Flay had abruptly started being far friendlier and more supportive of the two Coordinators, but it had not occurred to him that Kira and Flay had become so close.
He also wasn't sure he trusted it. Actually, I know I don't trust it.
After exchanging startled expressions with Kira, Sai became angry. "Well, Kira?" he said. "Explain this to me, Flay. You... you're..."
"Why should I explain myself?" Flay replied hotly. "It has nothing to do with you, Sai."
"Just forget it, Sai," Kira said quietly, looking away.
Sai's expression turned to one of despair. "What's that?"
The Coordinator looked up. "Anyone can see you're chasing after someone who has no desire to be with you," he said, raising his voice.
"Who do you think you are?" Sai snarled.
"I'm tired from the last battle," Kira said, turning with Flay toward the hatch. "Just do me a favor... Just stop all this."
Sai stared at him as he climbed the steps into the ship, hands clenching. Then he rushed forward.
Kevin made no move to intervene; he was rather looking forward to seeing how Kira dealt with the attack. "He's lucky it's not me he's going after," he murmured to Cagalli. "I'd probably kill him before my brain caught up with my reflexes."
"Kira!" Sai shouted, reaching for his shoulder... and Kira sensed him coming. The pilot suddenly turned, grabbed Sai's arm, and pinned it behind him.
"That's enough," Kira said, glaring down at his classmate. "If I took this seriously, you wouldn't stand a chance in a fight against me." He released Sai's arm, letting him fall to the dirt.
Flay gasped, startled; she'd never seen Kira do something like that before. She hadn't realized he was capable of it.
Sai lay on the ground, staring up at Kira with a frightened look on his face, and tears in his eyes. "Kira...?"
"Flay has been... kind and considerate to me," Kira said, facing away and looking at the deck. "She stayed with me the whole time. She held me in her arms, and she said she'd look after me!" He turned suddenly, eyes bright and fierce. "No one even stops to think about what I must be feeling!" he shouted. "What goes through my mind during a battle!"
"Kira...?"
Flay's eyes reflected her surprise, but then she wrapped her arms around the distraught Kira. "Hey, Kira..."
Both Kevin and Cagalli turned quickly at the sound of the alarms; Kevin understood it first. "ZAFT's attacking..." he murmured. "Tassil's under attack." He sprang into motion.
Author's note: Kevin Walker has returned to the ship, Andrew Waltfeld has noticed something oddly familiar about his tactics, and Kevin has realized something isn't quite right between Flay and Kira. Before long, he'll run into his mentor once again… this time, on the field of battle.
Moi, I'm glad Kevin Walker meets with your approval; and he will certainly put a "spin" in the character interaction later on.
Red Eyed Divine Dragoon77415, it shouldn't be much longer before I can spare the time to write up a chapter for the Second Story; bear with me.
Arekuruu-inabikari-no-She, I have every intention of continuing this arc into Destiny, but it will be some time yet. I am not an importer, and I'm afraid my Japanese may as well be nonexistent (I use a dictionary for the Japanese I use in my writing, and I suspect a real Japanese would either laugh out loud at the syntax, or drop dead of apoplexy). Thus, a sequel will be forthcoming, it will just take awhile. In the meantime, this story is far from complete.
As to your second question, I must say this: keep reading. Sequence and order, time and stress; all will be revealed at the proper time. I will say this, however: I never could quite see the Cagalli/Athrun pairing.
Shinji Ikari, as regards to Kevin's survival, my stance is that there are more things in heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in our philosophy. There are some mysteries that are simply never solved.
And no, he's not related to Kira and Cagalli; but "good old Colony Mendel" does have a role in all this. You're right in that the remaining questions will go unanswered for some time to come… and you shouldn't necessarily believe the first version of events that is told.
It actually hadn't occurred to me to wonder about Lacus' possession of the "SEED factor". I always thought the explanation provided in the official website's glossary sufficed; an explanation I make reference to earlier in the story.
You were right about what was the added scene, though the line about "utter lack of sympathy" was written before you reviewed.
I should mention, by the way, that he doesn't necessarily need to read someone's thoughts to make educated guesses about them; emotions can tell you a great deal about someone's intentions. And believe me, Kevin will have an… altercation… with Flay, later in the story.
Daniel Lynx, Kevin's proper meeting with his old mentor is only a couple of chapters away; stay tuned.
One last thing I should mention: repetitions of reviews really aren't necessary. Not a complaint, just an observation that saying the same thing ten times is a little redundant.
That seems to cover everything; let me know what you think. -Solid Shark