Somewhere over the Pacific, July 5, C.E. 71, 2330 hours.
The Archangel drifted through the air over the vast waters of the Pacific. The moonlight's tinted glow on the water made the surrounding landscape surpringly peaceful in the light of the recent events in the war. Winds were light and the sky was clear. On any other day, the crew would have been relaxing in their staterooms or around the ship wherever they could find some quiet. Sadly, today was not that day.
Captain Murrue Ramius lay asleep in her quarters. By her side, on the endtable rested the pendant she had found after the death of her old boyfriend at the beginning of the war. He had been the love of her life...that damn mobile armor pilot...who had gone and died on her. A small rose that he had given her rested inside the pendant like a body inside of a casket. It was the only thing left of him that Murrue had to remember him by. Unlike another dear friend of hers, Admiral Halberton, who she had nothing to remember by. When his ship had exploded right in front of her eyes, her heart had crumbled inside of her yet again. Even today, months after it had happened, in her dreams, she could still see his ship exploded in Earth's atmosphere, thinking that she could somehow save him if she reached out, but every time she came up short and he died. So many people in her life had died. She couldn't stop thinking about them. She dreamed about them constantly and each time they died. There was nothing she could do to stop it.
Somehow, on this evening, she did not have that dream. Next to the pendant, sat the picture she had placed there just before the Battle of Alaska. The one she had had taken of the senior officers, meaning herself, Natarle, and Mwu, shortly before Mwu left the ship. The smile on her face did not reflect the mood of the day. Mwu had been with her every step of the way since she became the ship's captain during the Heliopolis incident. He had become one of her best officers and a trusted friend who always believed everything she said about never surrendering the ship or the prized Strike Gundam to the le Creuset Team. When it was announced that he would be transferred away from the ship, she broke down in tears, once out of sight from everyone else of course. On his final day, they'd said goodbye and as he walked off the ship, she had barely been able to hold back her tears. Another friend was gone, possibly forever.
After the battle, she'd broken down in tears, at that time not knowing if Mwu had made it out in time or not when the base had been destroyed by ZAFT. When she learned he was alive, she had been relieved, but that hadn't lightened her mood. Night after night she prayed he would one day come back to her and every night she dreamed of him.
This was one of those night. Tonight, she saw herself sitting on the front porch of a beautiful home on a vast prairie overlooking a magnificent valley. In her arms, she held a baby boy, she didn't know who he was, but she assumed her was hers. He had her nose and ears, as well as her auburn colored hair. But his eyes were a shade of midnight blue. Nobody in her family had blue eyes. Standing behind her, with his arms massaging her shoulders, was a man who she couldn't see. Together, they watched the sun set over the mountains relishing in the beauty of the scene. This was what she had wanted for all her life. There was only one man now that she wanted to share it with.
Mwu...please come back to me. I can't go on living without you.
Murrue was about to progress futher into the dream, when something jarred her out of her sleep.
"Captain Ramius to the bridge please! Captain Ramius to the bridge!"
She moaned at the voice on the intercom that seemed to continuously interrupt her when she tried to relax, but got out of bed anyway. She quickly dressed in her Alliance uniform, grabbed her officer's cap, and hustled out of her room, making sure to lock it before she left. As she made her way toward the bridge, she passed the room that had served as her office aboard ship. This was where she was contacted and given orders by her superiors in the Inner Council. For the past three months, the Archangel had been running supplies across the Pacific from the California coast to the Far East bases in China, where heavy fighting continued in Taiwan and Hong Kong.
Murrue didn't pass many crewmembers along her way. As she well knew, many of them were asleep in their quarters just as she had been minutes before. At the time, the only officers aboard the bridge that should be on duty were Lt. Natarle Badgiruel and Chief Petty Officer Arnold Neumann. Of course, the helmsman Joseph Crew would also be on station because without him, the ship would only be drifting along the ocean currents.
Murrue finally reached the bridge. She slid her identification card through the slot designated and had her eye scanned by the sensor above it. Since security had been a top priority when the ship was constructed, the only automatic mechanism to open the steel door was inside the bridge itself. The system sounded a tone that meant it had accepted her identification and the door slowly retracted itself into the walls that surrounded the bridge.
The bridge of the battleship was something to behold. In the middle rested the Captain's chair that Murrue often occupied. It contained the usual requirements including a phone built into the arm-rest which she could use to communicate with anyone on the ship. It had taken a while, but she had finally gotten used to the high set-up command post.
Behind the Captain's chair sat the counsel's for the ship's weapons. Petty Officer Romero Pal was in charge there and they were still awaiting the replacement crewmember for Kuzzey Buskirk, who had left the Archangel after Alaska. At the moment, Kojiro Murdoch, the Chief Machinest's Mate, manned that post.
To the left of the Captain's chair, was the chamber where Natarle served as first mate on the ship. Natarle had been aboard the ship with Murrue every step of the way since Heliopolis. She had often questioned Murrue's orders when the ship was in battle and Murrue had to admit to herself that Natarle was often right. But ever since Alaska, Natarle had been more supportive of Murrue, probably because Murrue had gotten the ship and crew out alive before the base went up. Ever since then, the two of them had become good friends.
Surrounding Natarle's post were the tactical supervisor counsel's which controlled the mobile suits and the other mobile fighters the ship carried, and also the ship's radar and radio equipment were manned there. The mobile suit controller was Miriallia Haw and Sai Argyle had manned the power station before he had been called away to the mainland two months earlier. Petty Officer's Albert Chandra and Jackie Tonomura manned the two remaining counsel's, Chandra the radar, and Tonomura the radio.
The last remaining bridge counsel was right in front of the Captain's chair was the ship's helm and battle frequency reader. Chief Petty Officer Neumann was the one who ran the show aboard the bridge whenever Murrue or Natarle were unavailable with other business. Neumann was a by-the book type officer, but he also knew when a fight was won or lost and didn't like to take stupid risks. The ship's helm had been once manned by Tolle Koening, but he had been killed in action when the skygrasper he was piloting was destroyed by the X-303 Aegis some months earlier. Joseph Crew had come aboard the ship before Alaska, when the Archangel had been running on a skeleton crew. Crew didn't like to use his language skills very much and was often viewed as the silent, shy type.
Murrue forced back a yawn with her palm as she entered the bridge. As she had expected, Natarle stood at the foot of the Captain's chair staring out into space, while Neumann and Crew manned their stations at the front of the bridge near the front viewport. Natarle turned her head to face Murrue as she approached.
"What's the matter, Lieutenant?"
"Message from New York. Direct line. It's Admiral Sutherland. Asked specifically for you." Natarle replied.
Murrue narrowly avoided groaning as she sat down in her chair and awaited Sutherland's call.
"Mr. Neumann."
"Line 2 Captain."
Murrue pressed a button on her left-arm rest and a field of static appeared at the front of the viewport. It slowly dissolved into the form of Admiral William Sutherland of the 7th Orbital Fleet, her immediate superior. Sutherland, at about 40, was one of the youngest Admirals in the Fleet, but was one of the best strategists. Although his age showed in the lines on his face, below his eyes, he still had the vigor and strength of a man 15 years his junior.
Murrue saluted Sutherland's image. "Admiral."
"Captain Ramius," Sutherland returned the salute and scanned the bridge surroundings, "Where's the rest of the bridge crew?"
"Asleep sir. It's almost midnight out here."
"Captain. It's customary to have the entire crew awake as much as possible. We're in the middle of a war here. ZAFT could strike at any moment. Having only two people manning the bridge puts yourself and the Alliance in great danger with the mobile suits you have on board."
Murrue bit back a rebuke and spoke back to Sutherland. "Sir, the crew has been working into the late hours for days on end. They needed a rest and I gave it to them. It feels safer to have a crew full of energy than a dead tired one."
"Yes, whatever Captain." Sutherland wasn't one of Murrue's favorite people. "The reason I called is this. This ship is being redirected. You're to have her at Nova Scotia by 1000 tomorrow. Get there as fast as you can."
"Admiral, sir. May I ask why we're being reassigned?" Murrue asked.
"I can't give you the aspects of the mission myself, because it's top secret. I'm sending you the data through your data transmitter. I expect you to be in Nova Scotia by 1000 tomorrow Captain. No later, or there will be consequences." Sutherland's image disappeared.
Murrue stared at the viewport with a stern look on her face, trying desperately to bite back the curses she would have directed at Sutherland. That stupid bastard! she thought How dare he treat this ship and crew as if we're his slaves!
"It's apparent Sutherland hasn't changed..." That was Natarle.
"No, he hasn't." Murrue replied.
"Considering his language, that was very good acting Captain. I'm surprised you were able to hold all the emotion back."
"It wasn't easy. Mr. Neumann, has the data been received?"
"Coming in now Captain," Neumann replied.
Murrue got up from her chair to stand before the viewport. Natarle moved beside her as Neumann brought the data up on his counsel. It finally came through and Neumann spoke. "Uhhh...according to this we're supposed to head directly to Nova Scotia and to arrive there at 1000 tomorrow-"
"Yes, we know that already Arnold," Natarle hissed, "Get to the new stuff we haven't heard yet."
"Yes, ma'am." Neumann scrolled down the data looking for specific information. Finally he found it. "We're supposed to be receiving a squadron of J-type bombers...for an aerial bombardment of Cuba!"
"What!" Murrue asked. Are they crazy! Cuba's the most heavily defended base ZAFT has on the planet! Not even a mobile suit can infiltrate it.
"Are you sure that's what it says Neumann?" Natarle questioned.
"Positive. It's what the report says, though I can hardly believe it myself. How do they think they're going to get them to take off from the ship!"
Unexpectedly, Crew spoke up. "I thought the J's couldn't take off from ships?"
"They aren't designed to," Murrue replied. "The tires they were built with can't withstand the force of a catapault launch. They'll shred once it launches. Frankly, I've always believed the J was too heavy to get off the ship before it crashed anyway."
"Mr. Neumann, may I ask who's in command of the group?" That was Natarle.
"Just a second..." Neumann read more of the data. "Uh...", finally, he found it "Squadron commander...Colonel John Namora."
Murrue's expression lightened a little. Of course...the only one crazy enough to try it. Namora was the best pilot of the last 20 years the Naturals had with them. But, I wouldn't doubt he'd be able to pull it off.
"Well, that's no surprise," Natarle said, "I have to admit that with Namora commanding the unit, they stand the best chance. Don't you agree Captain?"
"Yes...but it still seems impossible to me," Then she heard a new sound. Neumann was laughing. "What's so funny Mr. Neumann?"
Neumann put his arms behind his head and smiled. "You know how Namora's commander of the unit? Well, he's got four other officers in the unit to support him."
"So, what's your point?" Natarle questioned.
"Well...guess who one of them is..." after receiving blank stares from everyone he answered his own question. "Commander...Mwu la Flaga."
Murrue's heart jumped. Her breath escaped her. Mwu's coming back. My prayers have been answered. "When did Mwu become a commander?" she asked. Ever since he had come aboard the ship, Mwu had just been a Lieutenant. Now that he was a Commander, that made him senior to her.
"Must have been just after he left. Otherwise, I haven't known anything," that was Natarle.
"Who are the other officers Mr. Neumann?"
"Let me see," he punched up more data, "Seargent Jack Richards, Commander Hugh Swanson, and Lieutenant Commander Frank Barkhesh."
Frank...Murrue thought. After a period of awkward silence, she realized Natarle was staring at her. She regained her focus and saluted Neumann. "Thank you Mr. Neumann, I'll be retiring to my quarters."
"Captain, a word with you?" asked Natarle.
"On the way, Lieutenant."
"Lieutenant Badgiruel, wait. You haven't yelled at me for messing up yet!" Neumann tried not to laugh.
Natarle just glared at him. "Get back to work, Chief Petty Officer Neumann," and with that she raced of after Murrue.
After the blast doors shut, Crew spoke irritantly to Neumann. "Arnie, do you enjoy always saying something to make the Lieutenant mad at us?"
"What can I say," Neumann replied, "I got a gift."
Meanwhile, Murrue walked back to her quarters. Natarle finally caught up with her in the hallway and spoke to her. "Captain, I can see you're excited that Commander la Flaga's coming back."
"Yes, I am Lieutenant. Why shouldn't I be?" Murrue replied as she resumed her walk.
Natarle moved up beside her as they walked down the hallway. "No reason, I just noticed that you seemed a lot happier up there once you knew Mwu was coming back."
They reached Murrue's quarters and stopped still. Murrue replied, "I haven't seen him in almost four months Natarle. He is still a good friend to the both of us. That's why I was happy, and I still am." She saluted and Natarle returned it. "Get some sleep Natarle. I'll see you in the morning,"
"Captain wait!"
Murrue stopped halfway into her quarters. "Yes, Natarle?" Oops, I said that to irritated.
"One more thing. Who was that one officer Neumann spoke of that made you stop talking back there?" Natarle asked.
"Frank Barkhesh?"
"Yes that's him. Do you know him too?" she asked.
Murrue punched the door release and said, "I should...he's my older brother."
Then the door closed, drowning out Natarle's "Good night, Captain", and Murrue was alone once again. She yawned and looked over at the clock on her bedside. It read 12:04. I'd better get some sleep, she thought, but I'll probably just have to wake up in another hour because someone's attacking us or there's been something spilled in the mess hall. I hate my job...
She quickly stripped off her uniform and slipped on her pale blue nightgown. As she lay down on her bed and pulled the sheets over her, she thought, Tomorrow should be fun. Mwu's coming back to me, and Frank will be there too. Nobody's going to hurt me on this voyage.
Nova Scotia, 0030 hours.
"Jesus Christ, it's freezing out here..." Hugh managed to blurt out through his shivering. He wasn't the only one who was cold. Mwu felt himself shivering as well and could see Frank's teeth chattering as he tried to warm his hands inside his jacket. "W-why'd they have to make the loading zone Nova Scotia?" Hugh pondered.
"P-p-probably because no one else would take us." Frank answered.
Out of the corner of his eye, Mwu saw Col. Namora waving to them. "Come on you guys, get in the building behind before you freeze your asses off." The three friends obliged without hesitation.
Once inside, Mwu let out a sigh of relief when the flash of heat hit him. The bulding they had entered had the look of an officer's domain, but it was actually just a bar and the only person in there besides the four officers was the old barkeep, but he was busy reading the newspaper to notice them.
The four men found themselves a corner table where they could look outside to see the progress the crews on station were making. Since they had landed in Nova Scotia an hour earlier, Mwu, Hugh, and Frank had been supervising the unloading of the bombers from the transport carriers, while John had taken part in...intense, negotiations with the base commander concering where the pilots and crews could sleep. John had finally gotten them into some decent facilities which actually had there own showers and toilets.
"Anybody want something?" John asked, though he already knew the answer. He whistled to the bartender to get his attention, "Hey, barkeep, four MGD's please, bottles if you got 'em."
After they had gotten their drinks, John told his three companions what they had been waiting to here. "Guys, I got the name of the ship that's taking us to Cuba." When they had set their bottles down and had their attention on him, he continued. "It's the Archangel-" he heard Mwu gasp when he heard it, as he guessed he would and finished what he was going to say, "she'll be in tomorrow morning at 1000, sharp. It's full military dress for everyone, got that? No school uniforms or civilian clothes. Full Alliance Uniform. I don't like the uniform myself, but I've got to go with what's been set." He stopped there, took another sip from his beer, and waited for his student's responses.
For a while, no one said anything, but then Hugh broke the silence by casually glancing over at Mwu, "Excited, are we Mwu?"
"What do you think? I mean, that's the ship I spent a good five months on, I've got a lot of friends there, and plus that's where my mobile armor is."
"Oh, since when is the 'zero' your mobile armor?" Hugh asked with a smile.
"Since, I started flyin' the thing, genius." Mwu snapped back.
"Guys, stop it. Geez...sometimes I wonder how you two are commanders when you act like your still ten."
John said sarcastically.
"Hey, that's not funny!" The two said in unison. But then they both laughed. John did too.
After another round of MGD, John glanced over at Frank who had been surprisingly quiet since he had said they would be on the Archangel tomorrow. "Frank, what's wrong? You seem quiet all of a sudden."
"Sooo unlike you as a matter of fact," said Hugh.
"Yeah, yeah, I know guys," Frank said. "John, is the Archangel commanded by Murrue Ramius?"
"Yes, it is...isn't it Mwu?"
"As far as I know, it still is. Why do you ask Frank. Do you personally know the Captain?"
Frank leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. Then he said, "Yeah I do...she's my baby sister."
Mwu's eyes widened. Frank never told me he had a sister...much less that it's Murrue. Before he could ask further, Hugh jumped in, "Wait, wait, wait a second Frank...you have a sister? You never told us you had a sister."
"I know I didn't," Frank replied, sitting up straight in his chair and taking hold of his bottle, "I haven't talked to her in almost half a year."
"Murrue never said anything about having a brother when I was aboard the Archangel," Mwu said. "There a reason why you each never told us about each other Frank?"
"No, no," Frank answered, "I mean, our parents divorced when we were kids, hence the different last names, but otherwise we've always been close. It's just that she's been on that ship almost a year now and I've been stuck here on Earth while she's been up at Heliopolis and Artemis, so we haven't been able to get in touch lately."
John picked up the conversation from there, "You're the oldest one aren't you Frank...?"
"Yeah," he stated, "I'm three years older than her. We lived together until I was 13 and she was 10, that's when our parents divorced. I went with my dad, she stayed with my mom..." Frank trailed off from there, but regained his composure and continued, "Anyway, I went to the academy when I was 18, she went to a different one. We kept in touch over a period of months, but when she got called away on that secret mission to Heliopolis, I never herad from her."
"Well, we'll both have a lot of catching up to do tomorrow, won't we." Mwu said.
"Yeah, but that will have to wait Mwu," John said as he stood up, "You guys better go get some sleep, it's going to be a busy day tomorrow. Be at the dock by 0930 tomorrow morning, full military dress, and your stuff. I'll see you in the morning." John saluted and the three returned it.
Mwu, Hugh, and Frank raced to the designated building in which they were staying, trying to keep themselves warm in the cold weather. They finally reached their bunk, and Hugh and Frank went right to sleep. Mwu remained awake, for a little while though. He removed his uniform jacket, hanging it on the coat stand with his hat and went into the bathroom. He took his razor out from it's carrying case and began shaving off his beard. If I'm heading back to the Archangel, I'd better look the part. Don't want Natarle angry at me first thing I get on there.
After about 15 minutes, Mwu's chin was smooth and clean again. He brushed his teeth, and layed down on his bunk, never bothering to set his alarm. Before he went to sleep, he thought of what he would say to Murrue when they were reunited again the next day. I hope...she hasn't changed, he thought. Then he was asleep.